Nova Peak frostfall

1/5

Wavering moonlight struggles to be seen through the heavy brushstroked clouds overhead.  The air is thick, muggy, and clouded with smoke from a far-away fire.  The night before had found the ironclad vagrant bound to the foot of the mountain seeking refuge from the smoke, but the wind had shifted and for now it had cleared enough for him to try his hand at clearing the mountain.  He had approached from the north among the long-scorched foothills as soon as the temperatures began their evening plummet.  His travels had led him past the burned sentinels that had once been a buffer for the frigid mountain winds and into a division of lush evergreen.

The vagabond stopped before a slow-moving trickle of icemelt to refresh himself.  Soon he would think about finding a more shielded place to rest for the night, but for now this would do.