04-07-2015, 02:19 PM
The way up was slow, but steady....and also dangerous. The slopes were slick with ice, and the mountains became narrower and rougher the higher up one went. There were more sheer walls of rock, and steeper slopes and when one went high, one eventually had to go down. Going down was even worse than going up it seemed like, it was harder to see where you were going, it was easier to slip and take a long, dangerous tumble. Yet, that just made it a challenge, a proper task, and the Chosen was no stranger to difficult tasks, he would persevere as he always did...and if he fell? Well, he would simply have to come back afterwards and try again, just as he always had. So he climbed, he scaled cliffs carefully, moving from handhold to handhold, his sword functioned as pick and stick, helping him with support and movement on slick surfaces. He made it to the top of the first mountain, and alas, there was neither signs of his two types of prey, nor of the bluish pigment that indicated cobalt, or the large chunks of meteoric iron that could also indicate it. Still that did not change the fact that the view was absolutely phenomenal! Here on top of the mountain, he could see for miles, the clouds seemed so close, as though he was just a short stretch from touching them...and he could see other mountains, that did in fact soar high enough to pierce the heavens. Ah, but what would the land look like from atop those leviathans? It was said that Cobalt could be found on high mountainpeaks, or in low valley craters, so, why not set one of those taller mountains as his goal?
His mind made up, the Chosen waited a few moments to appreciate the view further, a few entries made into his mobile dataverse device, a few warnings, a few comments. He was glad he had found that little device for sure, it was good to be able to leave messages for other wanderers. So he set off, and as promised, the way down was far more difficult than the way up, but that just meant one needed to go slower, to take their time, and that was exactly what the Chosen Undead did. The swordsman moved down carefully, traversing cliffs, sidling along ledges until he eventually got to the more gradual slopes, where trees actually thrust up through the snow, a sign of one being able to take things more easily. It made the journey a bit easier, but it was just the first step, there was no telling how long the Chosen would be wandering this frozen, windy landscape. In fact, he climbed another mountain, surveyed the landscape from there as well, and climbed all the way down, before he found something to indicate his quarry. A heavy, thick footprint in the snow, well a series of them, moving in a meandering line through the snow. They weren't big enough to be giants, and were too large to be the trolls, and they were not boots, that was for sure...so, could it be one of those Wampa, of whose hide he was to fetch? It very well could be.
With a possible lead in hand he began moving. The snows would obscure these tracks soon enough, so he could not waste too much time dallying about on a decision. So he moved, walking across the snows, following the large tracks of the beast, of what he could hope was a Wampa. He didn't blindly rush forward though, sword was drawn, the straight blade held firmly in his hand, and the shield of the silver knights engulfed his left arm from the elbow down, the elegant, ridged shield ready to block and defend. Although it would perhaps be less than useful if this beast was as large and fearsome as the dwarves had led him to believe. The tracks definitely gave an impression of big feet, but whether the beast itself was as large? He paused, his thoughts stopping as he halted next to a tree, helmet staring straight ahead to where the tracks led, a great, black hole in the face of the mountain. The tracks seemed to lead right into that, and Wampa were supposed to live in caves. The Chosen Undead rubbed the chin of his helmet slowly, producing a grating metallic sound. His eyes drifted above the cave to the face it was set into...and he wondered how sheer was that cliff...was there a decent ledge? It didn't look like the cliff face went that high before evening out to the more usual slope. So, he moved around, circling around the cave mouth and the cliff it was built into. He didn't want to just approach the cave, so he went to the left of it, giving it a wide berth as he approached the rocky wall. Then, he started to climb, gauntlet covered hands going up to it as he scaled it slowly and nimbly, moving up...and just as he thought, it wasn't too tall. He found himself on a good, snow covered slope after climbing for a few minutes, trees stretching around again. It was maybe...thirty, forty meters tall? Either way, it was perfect.
He moved back, walking along the slope next to the ledge, and from there his hand went behind him. On his back was a simple item, an essential tool, and not very obtrusive. The Bottomless Box, capable of holding anything. From it he pulled forth his bow, visually it looked as if it just appeared in his hand, springing full form seemingly from nothing. The Dragon Slayer's Greatbow, a massive weapon, taller than the Chosen himself was! He planted it into the ice and rock, here at the edge of the cliff, one hand around the stave, as he settled down to wait, a quiver of the massive, short lance arrows resting on his right thigh now as he relaxed. It was time to play the hunter's game, which was largely a game of patience, of waiting. Once the wampa emerged from the cave, when it moved into the forest, the Chosen Undead would be in a perfect vantage to slay the beast with one well placed, dragon slaying arrow. First though...the beast had to emerge. So, the knight waited....and waited. Minutes ticked by, ticking on into an hour....two hours, the Chosen remained patient. He had a target, he had his quarry, he just needed to wait, wait as the winds swept against him, snow pattering into the steel of his knightly plate, bow held firmly as he continued to demonstrate his patience. Then, finally, halfway through the third hour...the beast emerged.
It was tall, it must be nearly three meters in height! It was covered in shaggy white fur, spots of it splotched with dried blood and viscera. Curved black horns emerged from its head, curling towards the head, and he could only imagine what a nightmare of fangs the face must be. If all went to plan though, he wouldn't be seeing the face until he was peeling the hide off this brutish beast. Thanks to the height of the cliff, the creature was already a ways away from the cave, this would be something of a tricky shot, fortunately, the Chosen Undead was no slouch when it came to technique. His right hand lowered, drawing forth one of those bulky 'arrows' the greatbow fired. Nearly three feet long, with a conical, lance like head, the arrow was placed against the stave, the shaft pulled back against the bowstring, which was drawn slowly. It took a great effort to draw this bow, the weight of the arrow, and the taught tension of the metal string both worked against the archer, but the Chosen persevered, drawing it back slowly, and with a great effort of will. The bow was drawn, he could feel the tension, ready to release and unleash hell upon whoever he aimed at, and right now he was aiming at the Wampa, watching it move between the trees. It was in no hurry at least, stopping to sniff and search, likely hoping to find a trail of some sort. It would find something else instead.
Satisfied with his aim, the Chosen Undead released the arrow, the string thudded with a hard snap, slapping into his metal bracer, it would have sheered his skin off if he wasn't armored so. The sheer force of the arrow departing the bow had an effect on him nonetheless, his body actually sliding backwards through the snow, the greatbow was no trifle or toy, that was for certain. The arrow itself hummed through the trees, a branch smashed aside as it rushed to its target, and slammed into the Wampa, currently on all fours. It slammed into its back, above the buttocks and sadly a few inches short of hitting the spine. The impact floored the great beast though, slamming it into the snow as the arrow embedded itself in the beast. There was a massive bellow of pain as the Wampa thrashed, showing its vigor and strength, not dead yet as it lifted itself up and thrashed around, doing nothing more than smashing its claws into the trunk of a tree, for there was nothing near it to attack! The Chosen Undead though, was simply drawing another arrow, beginning the painstaking process of drawing another arrow, and pulling the string back all the way. The Wampa roared, searching about for the creature that had dared attack it, and not seeing it, for it was looking in the wrong place. He aimed once again, and released, letting the arrow thunder through the landscape once again! It hurtled towards the beast, the thick twang echoing in the air as the Chosen was pushed back along the ledge once again. The arrow this time soared straight ahead...and slammed into the beast's skull. The Chosen didn't realize it, but if his aim had been off, if it had survived another shot, it likely would have realized a ranged assault was the culprit...but alas, a straight greatbow shot to the skull...few things could withstand that. Its head caved in, the arrow embedding itself, practically obliterating its skull outright as it crumpled lifelessly.
The knight stared down at it for a few moments, making sure it wasn't going to move, before he put his bow away, and began the climb down, scaling down the cliff quickly, eager to get to the creature, collect his hide, and get moving. The beast was indeed dead, and it was even more intimidating up close. The creature was massive! It made him all the more thankful that he had caught the beast unawares, fighting this beast in melee, having it know about your presence beforehand...that would be nightmarish. Such a creature could likely rip a man apart in moments. Fortunately he had caught it by surprise, and the sheer power of the Dragon Slayer had proved too much for it. Not for the first time, he was thankful that he had decided upon that bow, and not a lighter, quicker relative, such as the long bow, normal arrows would probably have been mere pin pricks to such a beast. Well, no time to lose, he needed a sturdy knife for cleaning this creature, and so he got to summoning, drawing forth the Omnillium for this purpose. One task was accomplished at least, and once he was done here, he could return to searching for cobalt and trolls.
His mind made up, the Chosen waited a few moments to appreciate the view further, a few entries made into his mobile dataverse device, a few warnings, a few comments. He was glad he had found that little device for sure, it was good to be able to leave messages for other wanderers. So he set off, and as promised, the way down was far more difficult than the way up, but that just meant one needed to go slower, to take their time, and that was exactly what the Chosen Undead did. The swordsman moved down carefully, traversing cliffs, sidling along ledges until he eventually got to the more gradual slopes, where trees actually thrust up through the snow, a sign of one being able to take things more easily. It made the journey a bit easier, but it was just the first step, there was no telling how long the Chosen would be wandering this frozen, windy landscape. In fact, he climbed another mountain, surveyed the landscape from there as well, and climbed all the way down, before he found something to indicate his quarry. A heavy, thick footprint in the snow, well a series of them, moving in a meandering line through the snow. They weren't big enough to be giants, and were too large to be the trolls, and they were not boots, that was for sure...so, could it be one of those Wampa, of whose hide he was to fetch? It very well could be.
With a possible lead in hand he began moving. The snows would obscure these tracks soon enough, so he could not waste too much time dallying about on a decision. So he moved, walking across the snows, following the large tracks of the beast, of what he could hope was a Wampa. He didn't blindly rush forward though, sword was drawn, the straight blade held firmly in his hand, and the shield of the silver knights engulfed his left arm from the elbow down, the elegant, ridged shield ready to block and defend. Although it would perhaps be less than useful if this beast was as large and fearsome as the dwarves had led him to believe. The tracks definitely gave an impression of big feet, but whether the beast itself was as large? He paused, his thoughts stopping as he halted next to a tree, helmet staring straight ahead to where the tracks led, a great, black hole in the face of the mountain. The tracks seemed to lead right into that, and Wampa were supposed to live in caves. The Chosen Undead rubbed the chin of his helmet slowly, producing a grating metallic sound. His eyes drifted above the cave to the face it was set into...and he wondered how sheer was that cliff...was there a decent ledge? It didn't look like the cliff face went that high before evening out to the more usual slope. So, he moved around, circling around the cave mouth and the cliff it was built into. He didn't want to just approach the cave, so he went to the left of it, giving it a wide berth as he approached the rocky wall. Then, he started to climb, gauntlet covered hands going up to it as he scaled it slowly and nimbly, moving up...and just as he thought, it wasn't too tall. He found himself on a good, snow covered slope after climbing for a few minutes, trees stretching around again. It was maybe...thirty, forty meters tall? Either way, it was perfect.
He moved back, walking along the slope next to the ledge, and from there his hand went behind him. On his back was a simple item, an essential tool, and not very obtrusive. The Bottomless Box, capable of holding anything. From it he pulled forth his bow, visually it looked as if it just appeared in his hand, springing full form seemingly from nothing. The Dragon Slayer's Greatbow, a massive weapon, taller than the Chosen himself was! He planted it into the ice and rock, here at the edge of the cliff, one hand around the stave, as he settled down to wait, a quiver of the massive, short lance arrows resting on his right thigh now as he relaxed. It was time to play the hunter's game, which was largely a game of patience, of waiting. Once the wampa emerged from the cave, when it moved into the forest, the Chosen Undead would be in a perfect vantage to slay the beast with one well placed, dragon slaying arrow. First though...the beast had to emerge. So, the knight waited....and waited. Minutes ticked by, ticking on into an hour....two hours, the Chosen remained patient. He had a target, he had his quarry, he just needed to wait, wait as the winds swept against him, snow pattering into the steel of his knightly plate, bow held firmly as he continued to demonstrate his patience. Then, finally, halfway through the third hour...the beast emerged.
It was tall, it must be nearly three meters in height! It was covered in shaggy white fur, spots of it splotched with dried blood and viscera. Curved black horns emerged from its head, curling towards the head, and he could only imagine what a nightmare of fangs the face must be. If all went to plan though, he wouldn't be seeing the face until he was peeling the hide off this brutish beast. Thanks to the height of the cliff, the creature was already a ways away from the cave, this would be something of a tricky shot, fortunately, the Chosen Undead was no slouch when it came to technique. His right hand lowered, drawing forth one of those bulky 'arrows' the greatbow fired. Nearly three feet long, with a conical, lance like head, the arrow was placed against the stave, the shaft pulled back against the bowstring, which was drawn slowly. It took a great effort to draw this bow, the weight of the arrow, and the taught tension of the metal string both worked against the archer, but the Chosen persevered, drawing it back slowly, and with a great effort of will. The bow was drawn, he could feel the tension, ready to release and unleash hell upon whoever he aimed at, and right now he was aiming at the Wampa, watching it move between the trees. It was in no hurry at least, stopping to sniff and search, likely hoping to find a trail of some sort. It would find something else instead.
Satisfied with his aim, the Chosen Undead released the arrow, the string thudded with a hard snap, slapping into his metal bracer, it would have sheered his skin off if he wasn't armored so. The sheer force of the arrow departing the bow had an effect on him nonetheless, his body actually sliding backwards through the snow, the greatbow was no trifle or toy, that was for certain. The arrow itself hummed through the trees, a branch smashed aside as it rushed to its target, and slammed into the Wampa, currently on all fours. It slammed into its back, above the buttocks and sadly a few inches short of hitting the spine. The impact floored the great beast though, slamming it into the snow as the arrow embedded itself in the beast. There was a massive bellow of pain as the Wampa thrashed, showing its vigor and strength, not dead yet as it lifted itself up and thrashed around, doing nothing more than smashing its claws into the trunk of a tree, for there was nothing near it to attack! The Chosen Undead though, was simply drawing another arrow, beginning the painstaking process of drawing another arrow, and pulling the string back all the way. The Wampa roared, searching about for the creature that had dared attack it, and not seeing it, for it was looking in the wrong place. He aimed once again, and released, letting the arrow thunder through the landscape once again! It hurtled towards the beast, the thick twang echoing in the air as the Chosen was pushed back along the ledge once again. The arrow this time soared straight ahead...and slammed into the beast's skull. The Chosen didn't realize it, but if his aim had been off, if it had survived another shot, it likely would have realized a ranged assault was the culprit...but alas, a straight greatbow shot to the skull...few things could withstand that. Its head caved in, the arrow embedding itself, practically obliterating its skull outright as it crumpled lifelessly.
The knight stared down at it for a few moments, making sure it wasn't going to move, before he put his bow away, and began the climb down, scaling down the cliff quickly, eager to get to the creature, collect his hide, and get moving. The beast was indeed dead, and it was even more intimidating up close. The creature was massive! It made him all the more thankful that he had caught the beast unawares, fighting this beast in melee, having it know about your presence beforehand...that would be nightmarish. Such a creature could likely rip a man apart in moments. Fortunately he had caught it by surprise, and the sheer power of the Dragon Slayer had proved too much for it. Not for the first time, he was thankful that he had decided upon that bow, and not a lighter, quicker relative, such as the long bow, normal arrows would probably have been mere pin pricks to such a beast. Well, no time to lose, he needed a sturdy knife for cleaning this creature, and so he got to summoning, drawing forth the Omnillium for this purpose. One task was accomplished at least, and once he was done here, he could return to searching for cobalt and trolls.