![]() ![]() Though he defeated the evil that wronged him, it still haunted his unconscious mind when awake and his dreams as he slumbered. ![]() The man, known to all as Siegfried Schtauffen, was a hero to many and laid waste to evildoers in his many journeys, yet chose the life of isolation. If not for the grip peeking over the man's shoulder, the blade with its broad, pendulum-like tip, might have resembled a slab of metal rather than a true sword. The blade he carried in question was a titan among swords-its length being comparable to his own height and its width almost matching the span of his shoulders. He sported his experience further, by bearing a zweihander that he slung over his back. This man had witnessed battle, and bloody, brutal war at that. The armor in question belonged to a man with a handsome, youthful face, straw-colored hair that cascaded down past his shoulders, and bore a scar over the rightmost of his bright, azure eyes. The grating of metal against metal could be heard on the cold wind-the sound of a man, fully garbed in steel plate-mail wandering the near-arctic forest. Wolves and deer were common, but the imprints that dotted the otherwise-untouched frost were not from paw or hoof.įurther evidence of man's presence could be heard by sharp ears. Yet, despite the reputation of the north being inhospitable, there were signs of life in this icy tundra. Pure-white snow blanketed the landscape of a deep forest, laden with evergreens, as a biting cold winter gripped the land in frost. Let's settle this debate once and for all.
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