Dragn

Massafer

He didn't want to go out on such a night, with wind billowing through the hold so hard people had to be shaking in their tents. And yet there's a burning on the horizon that's not meant to be there. Pitch black from the clouds is splattered instead with blazing orange and red centered on a sliver of green. He knows what that means, knows what he has to do, but that doesn't make it any easier. Maker give him just one night of full sleep.

Massafer buckles himself into his armor piece by piece, trying hard to take his time. Every time the glow catches in the corner of his vision he's urged to speed his movements and then halted just as quickly when metal and leather pinch his skin. Almost more than having to put on armor while the sun is far from the sky, he hates having to wake the others of the circle. He can't go out alone of course, tempting as it may be, but choosing who to bring with him for nights like these is never easy.

Strapping his sword to his back he takes a steadying breath. He's checked and rechecked and sorted through their supplies, he's gathered everyone and assured they're awake and ready for action, he's called upon their mounts. Truly, they're ready to go.

But as the flames climb high into the night over snow covered tops it seems every step forward is harder than the last.