Stavanger Bay Running Towards a Place

Tahoe needn't meander the lands any longer. Ironclan had now taken him, and he would devote his efforts to aid in its rise. He was mildly surprised by how easy of a feat it was. Then again, Ironclan did not seem to be in a position of being picky with its recruits. To grow, numbers were an essential foundation. In the end, those who did not meet the requirements would be weeded out naturally. It was a tough reality, one which Tahoe was well-acquainted with. He was desensitized to the severity of the elements throughout his years: starvation, storms and battles had done nothing but thicken his skin. Whatever life would throw at him, he would take it on with every fiber of his being or die trying. 

Thank you. He spoke in appreciation—two words he hadn't uttered in a long time. Tahoe heeds his counterpart's words, prepared to follow. I didn't catch your name.