Redking6
Star
- Joined
- Nov 28, 2011
"By the Maker... Why did it have to be climbing?" Said the man as he grasped onto a nearby rock, his hands trembling as he attempted his ascent into the Mountains. He wasn't overly muscular. Years spent living within the confines of the Circle tower hadn't left him much of an appetite for physical activity. Though to his credit he hadn't managed to let himself go like a few of his fellow mages, rather having a sleeker frame than most individuals. The man was tall, being around six feet plus a few inches. A height that wasn't overly exaggerated, but yet wouldn't exactly allow him the opportunity to hid amongst most Ferelden crowds. His dirty blond hair was about neck length, and in his current extended defiance of the wishes of most of his masters at the circle, it was allowed to blow about in the wind. Just one more thing it seemed to slate his personal sense of pride.
The young man took a breath as he began his slow and somewhat painful ascent up a small trail along the Frostback Mountains. He had read of this trail before, as well as a few other trails at that. However, just because he knew them, it didn't mean he was overly "prepared" for the continued journey. As he considered Homs. Elf for a moment, one word played in his head over, and over, and over: Apostate. He had to remind himself that he was in fact an apostate. The notion scared him just a little more than he hoped it did, and yet he felt as if it was all worth it. He had managed to escape the tower as if by sheer and utter fluke, even more surprising was the notion that he had managed to be several days ahead of what he could only assume were his Templar pursuer, or pursuers if he was one of the unlucky ones. Though something told him he was too much of a small fish for them to send more than they needed, and if he were to be caught, he knew his penalty would be nothing less than his death or worse...
The man didn't want to think about it. Instead focusing on two things: hi task at hand, and his own name. The task itself was simple enough. Travel through the Frostback mountains without getting too close to the gates of Orzimmar, or any other "main" passageway. The second focus was certainly odd enough... Rodrick. It was almost as if he had to speak it over and over again to even remember it. Hear what it was like in the free space of the world. "Ah... Bloody jagged rocks." he grumbled, pulling his snagged mages robes from a few of the rocks. Only a minor series if scratches, luckily and as such he thought little of it and once again began his climb his clothes and staff feeling heavy with each movement. Though he knew that he would suffer it all a dozen times over if he could just be free.
The young man took a breath as he began his slow and somewhat painful ascent up a small trail along the Frostback Mountains. He had read of this trail before, as well as a few other trails at that. However, just because he knew them, it didn't mean he was overly "prepared" for the continued journey. As he considered Homs. Elf for a moment, one word played in his head over, and over, and over: Apostate. He had to remind himself that he was in fact an apostate. The notion scared him just a little more than he hoped it did, and yet he felt as if it was all worth it. He had managed to escape the tower as if by sheer and utter fluke, even more surprising was the notion that he had managed to be several days ahead of what he could only assume were his Templar pursuer, or pursuers if he was one of the unlucky ones. Though something told him he was too much of a small fish for them to send more than they needed, and if he were to be caught, he knew his penalty would be nothing less than his death or worse...
The man didn't want to think about it. Instead focusing on two things: hi task at hand, and his own name. The task itself was simple enough. Travel through the Frostback mountains without getting too close to the gates of Orzimmar, or any other "main" passageway. The second focus was certainly odd enough... Rodrick. It was almost as if he had to speak it over and over again to even remember it. Hear what it was like in the free space of the world. "Ah... Bloody jagged rocks." he grumbled, pulling his snagged mages robes from a few of the rocks. Only a minor series if scratches, luckily and as such he thought little of it and once again began his climb his clothes and staff feeling heavy with each movement. Though he knew that he would suffer it all a dozen times over if he could just be free.