Hypothermia isn't a concern when you're made of metal.[Completed]

[Rasteva]

It was very cold.


Is something Rasteva might have said or thought if they had any nerve endings. To be fair it certainly LOOKED cold. The Daemon had entered the strange Portal leading from the white expanse and found themselves standing on an ice floe in the midst of howling wind and snow, sure indicators that is was in fact cold.


But that was besides the point.


Rasteva peered over the edge of the ice floe and beheld only dark waters rushing past their field of view. Water was a problem for the Daemon as their chosen form wasn’t particularly buoyant, and even for all their knowledge they had not a single clue how to swim. The armored figure took a moment to pause and consider their options for a moment. Turning back through the Gateway seemed the most viable option, but the Daemon had not long ago established that finding another any time soon may be out of the question. Much less did they know if what lie on the other side was hospitable at all should they come across another Portal. On the other hand, Rasteva knew that crossing the field of ice would be difficult if not impossible for them. Most of the ice did not look capable of supporting the large Daemon’s weight, and Creation only knew how deep the black waters ran. Gripping Raumspalter tightly in one hand, Rasteva lowered their bulk as close to the surface of the ice as they could and carefully sidled closer to the edge of the ice floe. Easing their Glaive over the edge, the Daemon began to slowly ease the massive weapon into the dark waters. Foot after foot of the pole weapon disappeared beneath the surface, and Rasteva was nearly elbow deep in the water before the Rasteva decided to halt Glaive’s descent halted altogether. The armored figure balanced themselves at the edge of the ice floe rather precariously as they hauled Raumspalter out of the waters, the gears already turning in their mind.


The water was deep, this much was certain, but Rasteva had the advantage of being much taller than most beings. Raumspalter’s blade stretched a few feet over the Daemon’s head and even still it could not reach the bottom of the waters. All the same Rasteva did not consider the water too deep, The shore could be seen not far off from where they were situated and as the metal figure had no lungs they had no reason to worry over the need for air. Provided that they could keep moving in the right direction, the Daemon surmised that they could walk to shore in a reasonable amount of time. The waters could however pose other dangers to the Daemon and they still worried about the strong currents beneath the waves and potentially hungry beasts lurking beneath the waves. Rasteva continued to stare at the waters as they collected their resolve. The dark waters were certainly threatening, but they assured themselves that it was not a challenge beyond their own capabilities. Nodding firmly, the Daemon slid their legs over the edge of ice and tried to slip into the water as carefully as they could.


Of course it did not go as gracefully as they wanted.


When nearly a ton of metal shifts to the edge of an already precariously balanced platform, there was really only so much nonsense it would allow before giving up and allowing physics to take over completely. And so it was with a great deal of fanfare, and an even greater deal of embarrassment that Rasteva was bucked off the rocking ice floe and into the dark waters it below. The Daemon did not sink gracefully at all, and rather like a meteor hurled from space. Touching down on the seabed heavily, a cloud of dirt erupted on the bottom and obscured the Daemon from view for a great while. Rasteva took this time to regret every decision they had made thus far, it wasn’t as if the murky waters provided any other entertainment after all.


Once they had surmised that enough time was spent wallowing in their own pity, the Daemon began their slow march forward. The going was a bt difficult, as the muck of the seabed sucked at the Daemon’s metal boots with each step, and they prepared themselves for an excruciatingly long walk to the shore. Glancing upwards the Daemon could see beams of light filtering through the cracks in the ice. So long as they moved diligently in the direction the assumed the shore was, Rasteva did not foresee anything worse happening to them than what they had already endured thus far.


Rasteva was a Daemon of many talents, and not a single one of them included being able to see into the future.


The darkness of the waters did not provide much in the way of scenery. A rock here, some kelp there, and mud as far as one could see. The Daemon could not even recall seeing fish of any sort and began to wonder if they might come across any at all. It seemed that they did not have to wait long, for no sooner did the thought cross their mind did a small silver fish zip by the Daemon’s visor. It was not alone for another was close on its tail. Rasteva would have taken a moment to muse over the sight but they never got the chance because they were soon gifted with more fish to look at then they had actually wished for. An entire school of fish rushed past the Daemon, many of them parting round them to make way for the metal figure’s bulk. Rasteva watched the school’s passing with some interest, practically entranced by the sight.


This enjoyment was immediately cut short as one of the fish decided that this exact moment would be a good a time as any to get itself stuck in the visor of Rasteva’s helm.


Grabbing at the slippery creature with metal claws, the Daemon attempted to wrest the struggling fish out of their helm. Rasteva’s irritation was growing by the second, but as with all things that too would pass.


Only to become replaced with an immediate sense of dread.


As they finally managed to pry the poor fish out of their helm, Rasteva became very aware of a dark shadow slowly passing over them. Gazing up frantically the Daemon was gifted with the knowledge of WHAT exactly the school of fish was fleeing from. From nose to fluke the beast was well over twenty feet long, its pale belly contrasting sharply against the relative darkness of the waters. High pitched clicks and whistles emanated from the creature’s bulk as it passed over Rasteva, and the Daemon had enough foresight to still their movements completely.


Naturally it did not travel alone.


The armored figure remained stock still as more of the beasts swam past, all clicking and squealing shrilly. For a moment the Daemon swore that they could feel the sounds rattling around in their armor. It was a rather intrusive sensation, and they felt as if they were being closely examined even though the group of sea beasts ignored them completely. Or most of them did, one drifted uncomfortably close to the Daemon and it took a great deal of willpower to not draw Raumspalter. This one significantly smaller than its kin, not much longer than Rasteva was tall. Its whistles increased in pitch as it drew closer to the hapless Daemon and nudged them with its nose in apparent curiosity. Panic gripped Rasteva for the first time in eons, and the Daemon could do nothing but allow the beast to prod at them lest it alert the rest of its kin to their presence.The smaller creature continued to click loudly, seemingly pleased to have found a new plaything and nudged at Rasteva a bit harder. The Daemon cursed internally as they toppled over onto the seabed, wondering what they had done to deserve such mistreatment. And yet they continued to remain still, terrified that any movement would send the creature into panic. Metal would more than likely be unpalatable to the beast, but that would not keep it from tearing the Daemon apart in its jaws should it feel threatened.


Though as the creature’s mistreatment of them continued, Rasteva began to entertain the thought of just ending it all.


Finally, and mercifully the small beast grew bored with Rasteva, its new toy not nearly stimulating enough to keep its attention. Whistling loudly it floated off on the tail of its kin, not wanting to be left behind. Rasteva lay there on the seabed for a long while, indignation furiously coursing through their physical form. Never in all their millennia of existence had they EVER thought they wind up as some ugly fish beast’s plaything. And yet here they were, sitting at the bottom of some unknown ocean in some unknown universe where its God was surely high above laughing at the Daemon’s misfortune.


And so it was at that moment that Rasteva decided with a terrifying level of finality, to wage war on every whale in existence.


But that would have to wait for the time being.


Using Raumspalter as a crutch, the Daemon hauled themselves to their feet. They were uninjured, or at least whatever it was that passed for uninjured for a walking suit of armor. They could feel no new dents in their form, and all of their body parts were accounted for. Aside from their wounded pride, the Daemon was whole and unharmed. And that was of greater importance than even Rasteva’s own ego. So long as they existed, all was well.Though Omni had stated death to be only a temporary inconvinience, the Daemon knew that hinged solely on the God’s mood. There was not a single doubt in the metal figure’s metaphorical mind that Omni would cast them and anyone else into oblivion should he deem them unworthy. But that was a concern for when Rasteva’s existence came to its permanent end. For now their sole focus was getting to shore. Once there, they would begin their next course of action.


All things came with time, and Rasteva had much to spare as they slogged blindly through the darkened waters.

---

A lone Gull waddled across the surface of the ice, going about whatever it is that Gulls considered business. That normally amounted to nothing more than flying, hunting for fish, and making an unseemly amount of noise. But this particular Gull felt that it deserved a rest after a full day of doing every one of the above mentioned activities.


Truly an upstanding model of Gull Society.


Choosing a spot on the ice, the Gull settled itself down comfortably on the surface. The small bird let out a chirping sound of contentment, its friends and family circling overhead as they had not yet grown tired of fishing and squawking. As far as birds went, this could be considered the perfect end to a perfect day. And it truly would have been as such had a metal helm not decided to burst through the ice not even a foot from where the bird was resting.


Screeching madly, the Gull flapped off in equal parts indignation and fear. Some things were not meant to be it seemed, even something as simple as a spot on the ice.


Hauling their bulk out of the waters beneath the ice, Rasteva managed to clamber onto a more solid surface than what had greeted them. It had taken hours marching through the dark waters to get to shore, if the sun’s current position close to the horizon was any indication. The Daemon kept a firm grip on Raumspalter as they slowly moved to stand. The water coursing out through the gaps in the Daemon’s form was less of a concern to them, than the strands of kelp draped over their body. It also seemed that somewhere along the way Rasteva had obtained a travelling companion as another fish had somehow managed to wedge itself into the Daemon’s visor. Plucking the poor animal out of their helm, Rasteva tossed the fish aside on the ice only for it to be snatched up mere moments later by a passing Gull.


A rather poor end to the day if you were a fish.


Completely ignoring the timeless display of the circle of life, Rasteva trudged across the ice towards solid ground, water sloshing out of their body at every step. While they weren’t what could be considered tired in the traditional sense, the Daemon’s ‘swim’ had taken its toll all the same. It had been mentally taxing walking across the seabed, and the armored figure had never thought they’d be so happy to see dry land. Coming to a large boulder the Daemon moved around to the other side and leaned against it. Back pressed to the stone, Rasteva moved to sit on the cold hard ground, setting Raumspalter over their lap. In the distance past the field of snow and ice, Rasteva could see dark mountains jutting against the sky like a mass of sharpened teeth. The land looked harsh and completely inhospitable, but Rasteva knew for a fact that such things had never deterred other beings from settling in a place like this. If anyone at all made their home here, the Daemon knew that they would be a harsh people and well suited to their home.


The perfect allies really, one could afford not an ounce of weakness here.


The Daemon’s thoughts were cut short as a roar echoed across the frozen plains a long way off. Peering into the distance, Rasteva spied a large silhouette coasting through the air, one that they had come to recognize long ago. The Daemon supposed that if any creature were to make its home here among the ice and snow it would be Dragons. Rasteva continued to watch the Dragon soar against the backdrop of mountains illuminated by the setting sun. Here would be a suitable place to rest for the time being. The Daemon was sure they would not find anyone wandering the plains in the dead of night, and so resolved to begin their search come morning.


But they could at least enjoy the scenery while the light still remained.

[Rasteva]

Exploring the depths of one’s own mind wasn’t as perilous as wandering a frozen wasteland. That was of course, provided you weren’t suffering from serious mental trauma. Rasteva was fortunate enough to say that they weren’t, but all the same their mind posed a whole host of other issues. Namely that it was woefully cluttered. In all their years of existence, Rasteva had spent all of them wandering from place to place and absorbing as much knowledge as they could.

And yet for all that they could not find a scrap of information that would possibly help them in their current situation.

Rumbling in mild irritation, the Daemon pulled their thoughts from plumbing the recesses of their own consciousness and turned their attention back to the outside world. Their night had passed in relative peace, with nothing of considerable note happening in their vicinity. As was custom the Daemon used this time to meditate as they did not sleep. A few times they had broken their contemplation to gaze up at the starry night sky. The burning pinpoints of light did help settle the Daemon’s mood somewhat, even though they could recognize none of the celestial bodies overhead. The sound of crying birds broke the Daemon’s reverie and the looked to the Horizon, the first beginnings of sunlight could be seen breaking over the land, signaling the start of a new day.

Rasteva let out another metallic rumble, startling several Gulls that had been using them as a perch into flight. Their cries pierced the air and the Daemon knew that it was time to move on. Standing proved to be somewhat difficult however. Their little ‘swim’ the day before had left the armored figure soaking wet. And while Rasteva did not mind the cold, it still had the expected effect on their wet form, and the Daemon found parts of their body to be covered in ice. Most of it was thin enough to be considered a non issue, but the thickest formations were in many of the metal figure’s joints. Rasteva cursed internally, mentally kicking themselves for allowing such an oversight. The Daemon let out a loud creaking sound as they jerked forward, shards of ice exploding off of their form. Most of it was easily removed, but it still remained in the harder to reach places. Dusting themselves off, Rasteva surmised that the rest would eventually work its way out of their body while they walked, but getting somewhere warmer might help speed the process along. Hobbling away from the shore, the Daemon gazed about idly, hoping to spot a structure that would hint at sapient life. Other beings meant help, and perhaps better knowledge on this strange place. At the very least they would offer conversation and a means of staving off the Daemon’s growing boredom. Only grey skies and howling wind greeted them. Rasteva could only see snow stretching off into the distance, and beyond that dark mountains jutting into the skies like rows of teeth.

Rasteva halted and thought, settling themselves into contemplation before moving in the direction of the peaks.

Truth be told Rasteva did not think that anyone made their home there, but they knew that at least one creature would likely choose to live there. It was a gamble, but provided all went well the Daemon would likely find the answers they so desperately needed.
At the worst, they would be scattered about the mountains in many pieces.


Trudging forward silently, the Daemon drew upon all the knowledge they held on Dragons. Most of them were at least sentient if not close to it. Though prideful and not inclined to help what they deemed lesser creatures, they could at least be reasoned with in some form. Rasteva knew a fair bit of the Dragon language, but the dialects varied greatly from place to place. If the Dragons of this land were sapient, and Rasteva greatly hoped that they were, they would at least know how to speak whatever it was that passed for the Common Language here. But it would better their mood if Rasteva addressed them in their native tongue, to do so was a great sign of respect. Better still it would keep them in a good mood. The Daemon sincerely hoped that if the Dragons here had a language it was one that they already knew, but it was highly doubtful.

The armored figure continued to mull over their thoughts as the walked onward coming to the bottom of a large hill. Crows circled overhead at its crest, and the Daemon began their climb upwards. The going was slow, and several times Rasteva had to use Raumspalter as a walking stick to avoid tumbling back down the hill. Cresting the top, the Daemon could see what had the Crow’s interest so. Lumbering forward, several of the birds cawed loudly and flapped away at their approach, leaving behind a half frozen animal carcass in their haste to escape. The metal figure kneeled before the dead creature, eyeing it intently. The could not tell what manner of creature it was, but it did supply the Daemon with another thought.

When looking to gain a Dragon’s audience it was best to bring a gift. After all one did not waste a Dragon’s time, they were allowed to speak with a Dragon and then possibly allowed to live afterwards.

Dragons were incredibly fickle creatures.

This would prove difficult for them. Rasteva hadn’t the first clue how to capture a live animal for later consumption. Not needing to eat meant never having to hunt. But a freshly slain beast was sure to get the Daemon into the good graces of a Dragon. They did like eating quite a bit, as did any other organic creature. The armored figure really didn’t see the appeal of it really. Eating seemed rather messy, and sometimes organic creatures would go as far as to complain about the taste but continue eating anyway as there wasn’t anything better for them to consume. Other times they would even get sick from eating, an action that they were REQUIRED to do or else they would die.

Rasteva really did not understand why anyone would actively choose to be organic. The negative aspects of it really outweighed any of the good ones in their opinion.

The Daemon slowly got to their feet and gazed out over the plains. There wasn’t much different in the way of scenery, though they could see some movement about a mile off. A herd of antlered beasts meandered across the plains at an even pace. They did not seem to be in a particular hurry, but Rasteva knew that they could bound away faster than the Daemon could ever hope to move. Lumbering forward the Daemon began to make their way down the hill, not climbing so much as sliding to the bottom. The armored figure landed heavily at the base of the hill, the weight of their landing kicking up a cloud of snow. A sudden howl pierced the air, and the Daemon’s helm snapped up at the sound. Training their eyes across the plains, Rasteva could make out a group of small swift forms bolting towards the herd they’d spotted earlier, bodies low to the ground. The howling cry sounded again, and the herd began to move faster obviously fearful of the beasts that pursued them.

Another thought struck Rasteva.

While they could not hunt the beasts they’d spotted, a wolf was more than capable. All the Daemon needed to do was allow the predators to make their kill, and then steal it right from under them.

This was of course provided they could dispose of the wolves and keep themselves in one piece.

All the same, this was the surest way of obtaining a gift for a Dragon.

A Dragon that may or may not be capable of understanding speech.

Who in turn may or may not be completely amicable to a stranger.

For all Rasteva knew it could be rare breed of Vegan Dragon and didn’t eat meat at all.


But that was a bridge the Daemon would have to obliterate when they got to it. All plans were seen out one step at a time and for now they would focus on the first step. Moving towards the noise and commotion at a steady pace, Rasteva hoped that the wolves in this strange place didn’t also have a taste for metal.

[Rasteva]

The herd had long since fled before Rasteva had arrived. The tracks were so obvious that even an inexperienced tracker could not miss them. A multitude of hoof and paw prints marring the otherwise pristine snow, the story of what had transpired here more than clear. Rasteva tilted their head up to gaze over the open plains before the sighted movement a ways off. The Daemon trundled through the snow as fast as they were able, hoping to rid the Wolf Pack of their meal before too much of it had been consumed. They would of course be unwilling to part with their hard earned catch, but that was of no concern to Rasteva as the continued to lumber forward. The Daemon could see no less than ten of the beasts, all huddled around their fallen prey. The poor creature’s blood stained the snow bright red, an almost jarring contrast against the paleness of the snow and sky. At the figure’s a approach, several of the Wolves perked up, immediately alerting the rest of the pack to Rasteva’s looming presence.

A Pack of irritable Wolves against one lone traveller was nothing short of suicide, and under normal circumstances things would have ended in favor of the Wolves. A group of Ravens circled warily overhead, interested in the result of the coming carnage but not wanting to be caught in the middle of it. The Wolves paced around their kill warily, unable to catch a scent from the intruder but they made no move to leave their meal behind.Many of them snarled loudly with bared teeth and gums, their fur beginning to bristle along their backs. Rasteva could tell that the Pack was testing the waters, not wanting to relinquish their hard earned meal but no more eager to get embroiled in a costly fight. Rasteva stared at the wolves silently for a moment before taking a step forward.

In the blink of an eye, chaos erupted.

The Wolves bolted forward, snapping audibly at Rasteva with powerful jaws.One of the Wolves danced too close, hackles raised as it snarled at the intruder. The back of a large metal hand caught the predator square in the face and it crumpled onto the ground, its teeth scattering across the snow in a spray of blood. Quicker than they could react another Wolf leapt forward, its frothing jaws clamping tightly around a metal wrist. Rasteva studied the furious creature for a moment, somewhat intrigued by its insistence on biting them even though its teeth could barely find purchase on the Daemon’s metal form. Rasteva was vaguely aware of another Wolf attempting to bite their ankle and lifted a leg to shake it off onto the ground. As the beast sprang to its feet a large metal boot came down on its head, snuffing out its life with nothing but a sharp yelping cry to mark its passing. The Wolf attached to Rasteva’s wrist began to lose its purchase as the Daemon lifted their arm so as to better examine the struggling creature. Once they had gotten their fill of looking at it, the Daemon grabbed the still snarling Wolf by the scruff of its neck with their free hand before prying it off their wrist and tossing it aside. The beast let out an undignified yelp as it it hit the ground, kicking up a spray of snow as it landed. Had Rasteva possessed the capacity, they might have laughed.

“Pitiful.”

Marching forward even as the Pack threw itself against them, Rasteva recalled a memory from long ago. It was not unlike their present situation, though Humans wielding spells and weapons proved to be far better sport. A large Wolf cut off the Daemon’s train of thought as it jumped at them with eager jaws. All that it received for its effort was a metal boot and was promptly sent tumbling into one of its kin. Whales in their home environment were one thing. An irate Dragon was of course something to be fearful of.

All that a pack of Wolves were proving to be was a mild inconvenience.

Kneeling in front of the Pack’s fresh kill, Rasteva examined the creature. As expected it was covered in a mass of bite marks, but it was still whole and recognizable. The Daemon hoped that it would suffice for whatever Dragon they ran into down the road. Rasteva halted their musing for moment, noticing a sudden weight upon their back and shoulders. Canting their head to the side, the Daemon beheld a Wolf that had sprung upon them while they were lost in thought. The creature growled furiously, trying to sink its teeth into the Daemon’s metal neck. Rasteva took a moment to pause and consider this. The Wolf was larger than most, its well muscled form covered in dappled grey fur. This too, could possibly make a fine gift for a Dragon. While the Daemon doubted it would care for the Wolf’s pelt in any regard, it might still find it to be something good to eat. Lifting an arm to reach around and haul the snarling beast off of them, Rasteva’s clawed gauntlet quickly found purchase around the Wolf’s neck and they squeezed tightly. Almost immediately the beast’s struggles halted, its neck snapping audibly.

Nodding to themselves seemingly pleased, the Daemon tossed the now dead wolf over a broad shoulder. Scooping up the dwindling Pack’s kill, Rasteva tucked it securely under and arm before standing. The Wolves were pacing around the Daemon warily, seeming unsure about continuing to fight after almost losing half their numbers. Rasteva cared little for this, having obtained what they came for. As they strode forward the remaining Wolves decided to cut their losses and fled, leaving their fallen kin behind.

All things considered, things were going better than Rasteva had thought they would. They now had two mostly intact corpses to present to one of the local Dragons, something that would at least allow them a bit of the great beast’s time. Several of the Ravens had broken their circling to land, beaks pecking at the newly laid out bodies on the ground. More food than they would have gotten scavenging from the Wolves. Rasteva slowly lumbered away from the scene of the confrontation, already planning their next course of action. It would take a few days of marching to reach the mountains though it could be lessened as the Daemon fully planned on travelling through the night as well. While Dragons tended to nest high in the peaks, they often wandered far afield to hunt and forage. It was Rasteva’s hope that they would come across one of them during such an excursion. The Daemon could see another blizzard brewing on the Horizon, dark clouds were beginning to roll across the sky. The frigid cold would help preserve the corpses until Rasteva could present them fully, a good thing as Dragon’s tended to enjoy their meals fresh.

Anything to keep Rasteva from being torn to pieces was more than enough for them.

It wasn’t until they were several miles from the scene of their battle, that Rasteva heard the cries. Craning their head upwards, the Daemon saw a small group of Ravens lofting over them. Ever the opportunists several of the birds had splintered off from the flock, possibly interested in seeing if the armored figure would lead them to more food. The Daemon brought their gaze back towards the ground, gaze trained on the mountains looming in the distance. Reaching the jagged peaks was of greater interest to them than a few hungry birds.

But in truth, they didn't really mind a little company.

[Strazio Rockwell]

Miserable was never more an apt word to describe Valerie. He trundled through shin-high snow at a pace that would have put glaciers to shame. Overhead clouds roiled and fumed, ready to unleash their payload of ice and sleet at a moment’s notice. A groan escaped from the mage’s lips and he pulled his cloak tighter to his body. He cursed himself for leaving the safety, and more importantly the warmth, of Jade’s tower. It was with a childlike hope that he left with the assumption that he could brave the frozen wastes alone. A tongue of wind lapped at his bare cheeks and he shivered. Arctic survival was a weak point of his. Having spent most of his life in forests and jungles Valerie was no more equipped to deal with the cold than a deep sea diver was equipped to deal with the Sahara.

“Oh melancholy,” Val muttered after a particularly violent whip of wind.

Something growled. At first Valerie assumed it was a shifting of distance snow, a deep rumbling created by the earth adjusting itself. This was not the case. Another growl, this time closer. The verdant mage twirled around and came face-to-face with a drooling maw. A beast towered above him, vaguely humanoid and covered in snow-packed grey fur. Its arms and legs were thick with muscle and their digits ended in sharp black talons. A set of chompers, stained yellow and sharpened to needle points, snarled at the mage. Valerie held up his hands, shook his head, and shuffled backwards. The beast lumbered towards him, still growling

“Salutations,” Valerie said, “sorry to intrude upon your territory, I’m merely pass-”

Valerie had no chance to finish his sentence. The beast lunged towards him. Its body was a massive bulk of fur and sharp bits. A massive paw slammed into Val’s side, tossing him onto his ass and carving a line of blood into his arm. He yelped. Green blood trickled from his wounds and stained the powdery snow. The abominable creature roared and stomped towards its prey. Val raised his hand as if asking the creature to stop. His skin twisted and writhed as if large earth worms were burrowing through his flesh. With a sound like spooling cables thorn-covered vines erupted from beneath the skin on Valerie’s arm. The wriggling trailers wrapped tight around the beast, snaring it in their ropey embrace. Thick muscles strained against the vine’s grip, but the yeti’s strength was no match for the squiggling huggers.  Once he was certain that his new friend was properly subdued, Valerie stood.

“My apologies ferocious one,” he mused, “while I am certain it is with hunger, not malice, that you attack me today, I’ve no intention on becoming your feast.”

The furbeast roared.

“Do not fret,” Valerie continued, wagging a finger at the animal, “with nothing to sustain them, your temporary prison will wither and die within the hour, then you will be free to prowl and feast upon another traveler.”

Once again the animal roared.

“At any rate I must abscond from this dreadfully frozen place,” the mage said and waved to the furry creature, “farewell, and the best of luck in your future endeavors.”

The beast roared.

Valerie smiled -- it was a good talk.

With a flourish of his hand the mage performed a pirouette and trudged away from his assailant. His arm pulsed and ached as droplets of emerald blood dripped from his wound. The oncoming bruise was more a concern than the shallow lacerations, and the oncoming blizzard superseded both of them. Gentle flecks of snow drifted downwards and melted on contact with Val’s skin. It wouldn’t be much longer before the Frozen Fields unleashed its proper fury. Valerie cursed his absent sense of direction, how far away from the gate had he traveled? For all he knew it could be over the next hill. Not that it necessarily mattered, every hill and snowdrift looks alike. A desert of white, accented by towering mountains and a black figure on the horizon. Val froze, not literally, but he froze in the sense that he stopped moving and focused his gaze towards the bulky figure on the horizon. A thin smile slipped across Valerie’s lips as he caught sight of another warm body in this field of frost. With little trepidation the mage picked up his pace, hoping to catch up to the lumbering figure.

As Valerie closed upon the traveler he noticed that he was clad from head to toe in iron. He looked reminiscent of the golems from Val’s own world, but the being lacked any sort of wrangler so that thought was quickly discarded. On his shoulders the armored man carried two carcasses, one of a wolf and the other too mangled to identify. Congealed clumps of blood clung frozen to the man’s pauldrons, a fact that he seemed none too bothered by. The metallic traveler moved at a machine-like pace not even pausing to catch its breath. Something about his gait was off, he seemed no more encumbered by the armor than Valerie was by his own skin. This wasn’t entirely unexpected. Magick seemed to be prolific in this Omniverse and it wouldn’t have been surprising if the traveler’s armor was enchanted to make it as light as a feather. Valerie grinned and rushed towards the man, stopping several yards behind the armored centurion.

“Salutations!” Valerie shouted, provoking the man to stop and turn around.

Once Val was sure he held the man’s attention he bowed. If one word was used to describe Valerie’s ensemble, asides from “ill-prepared-for-the-fucking-cold”, it would have to be “green”. Everything he wore was bathed in spring colors, mostly different hues of green, but the occasional yellow or orange made an appearance. His dress-like cloak was an explosion of verdant shades and flowery designs, still present despite several rips and tears in the cloth. Even his hair was a pale tinge of green, along with his very flesh. As he spoke his hands moved of their own accord, dancing to the beat of an invisible drum. It was a sort of nonverbal tic of his, the constant motion of his hands during speech. There was no rhyme or reason to the movements and they seemed to happen involuntarily, something about his words forced his fingers to become dancers.

“I’m sure it is a great pleasure to meet you metal-clad traveler, my name is Valerie LaMolla, you may call me Val if you wish,” Valerie paused for a moment and offered a feminine hand to shake with. His fingernails were well-manicured and painted with a green polish that was now cracked in several places. It took him a moment to realize that the man couldn’t shake hands, as his were busy carrying the two carcasses perched upon his shoulders. Valerie pulled back his hand and continued in enthusiastic tones, “I seem to have become quite lost in this dreaded tundra, and I was hoping that you would allow me to accompany you in your journey, well, at least until I retrieve my bearings.”

[Rasteva]

The wind had begun to pick up.



The howling snow and cold that would soon follow it was of little concern to Rasteva, though the Ravens that accompanied the Daemon felt differently on the matter altogether. The birds had perched themselves comfortably on the great curling horns adorning Rasteva’s head, clustering together to keep warm as they all prepared to ride out the incoming blizzard. Rasteva rumbled softly and considered shooing the birds away, the Daemon wasn't very keen on the idea of keeping pets much less seven of them even as small as they were. Long ago in a different reality, it would have been a non-issue and the Daemon simply would not have cared. There was a time when great flocks of the carrion birds would follow them, some even nesting in the Rasteva’s body. Speaking of which, Rasteva was positive that one of the Ravens had already begun building a nest somewhere at the back of their neck. The Daemon let out another rumble, signaling their irritation. The Ravens cawed softly in reply.Resigning themselves to a journey with only a group of birds for company, the Daemon continued to march forward.



One of the Ravens let out a sharp cry and took flight, its kin quickly following suit. Rasteva halted their march and scanned the horizon with renewed interest. Had the birds seen something they had yet to notice? The armored figure prepared themselves for a coming danger, the call of the Ravens piercing the cold air shrilly. A shout came suddenly from behind the Daemon, and they turned slowly to observe the sudden stranger’s approach.



As the beheld the other being Rasteva was filled with the certainty that if they had eyes, both of them would be bleeding right now.



The stranger was dressed head to toe in bright green with occasional splashes of pastels seen here and there. The Daemon had never worn clothes a day in their life and yet somehow intrinsically knew that what the man in front of him was wearing HAD to be against the law in some places. Rasteva briefly pondered how someone dressed so garishly could approach them without notice in the first place as the man stood out among the whites and greys of the plains like a flower sprouting from between stones.



A talkative flower.



In their silent judgement of the man's state of dress, had scarcely noticed that he'd begun speaking to them. Not wanting to be seen as rude, the Daemon quickly got a handle on their shock and shrugged both of the corpses slung over their shoulders and onto the ground with a heavy thump. Kneeling slowly so as to close their gap in height while they spoke, Rasteva inspected the man a little closer. To all appearances, he looked Human, and for all the Daemon knew he was. Though his skin seemed to be tinted an odd shade of green which wasn’t exactly common among Humans. 



Then again the Daemon could never recall Humans making any kind of sense.



The man held out a hand in greeting, introducing himself as Valerie. Rasteva regarded the limb quietly before lifting a large clawed gauntlet to VERY gently clasp the man’s offered hand, their own metal fingers enveloping it completely. The last thing Rasteva desired was to break someone’s hand mere moments after being introduced and knew that it would certainly be more than a little embarrassing. Giving the man's arm the barest of shakes so as not to injure him, Rasteva dipped their helm in greeting. The Ravens stopped their nervous circling once it became obvious that there was no danger and flutterd down towards the Daemon. Alighting on the armored figure’s horns, they regarded the newcomer with beady black eyes and chattered among themselves as if speaking of him. The Daemon released Valerie’s hand before lifting their own and tapping at their metal chest with a claw. “I am called Rasteva. Well met fellow traveller” The Daemon’s darkened visor sparked to life suddenly, a ball of light blooming to life and swirling like a small galaxy in the void of space. “You will have to excuse my travelling companions, like myself they were taken by surprise. We have not met another being in these frozen wastes for a great while.” Rasteva’s single eye drifted upwards as if to regard the birds perched on their metal horns before drifting back to stare directly at Valerie. “I am not from here, and truth be told I was starting to wonder if anyone at called this place their home. The one that brought me hair claimed as such, but I am not sure how much of what he says can be called truth” Rasteva’s rumbling voice echoed calmly over the man, seeming to come from both the armor they called a body and all around them at once. The Daemon's single burning eye took silent note of the man's apparent discomfort, no doubt the cold was treating him poorly “But I can see that you did not brave an oncoming storm to simply chat with a walking  heap of scrap like I. Come, if you wish to travel with me I will certainly not deny your company. Though I must confess the way may not be safe for you.”



Rasteva reached over to grab hold of the animal corpses they’d previously dropped and slung them back over their plated shoulders. The Ravens squawked loudly in indignation, the Daemon's movements jostling them on their perch. Rasteva paid the birds no mind, gaze turning back to Valerie and beckoning them to follow.
 “I have no fear of the storm, but even one such as I can tell that standing out here in the cold will do you no good. Come along, we will see about finding you proper shelter. Once you have been made comfortable, we may speak at length."


The Daemon was quite pleased, to say the least. Another soul to converse with was always a welcome thing to them. More so now than ever in this frozen wasteland. Rasteva hoped that the man knew something about the lands they were traveling, but given that he claimed to be lost it was doubtful. All the same, another person would pass the time as they traveled onwards and Rasteva was eager to hear what the man had to say regardless. But of course he would be of no help to the Daemon if he was allowed to freeze to death.

And while the Ravens loved to talk, not a word of what they said made any sense.

[Strazio Rockwell]

“Thank you kindly,” Valerie chirped and smiled. He was glad to have found a companion in such a place. Most people would have been at least a bit wary of an armor-clad marauder carrying corpses in the middle of a blizzard, but Val was not most people. His naivety wasn’t so much an absence of self-preservation as it was a willful belief that everyone could be made into a friend. His own student was a prime example of that. The boy had been or rather was a roiling furnace of hatred, but Val had tempered him into, well, less of a hate furnace. So it was without worry that he accompanied Rasteva.


“There,” Rasteva said and pointed off into the distance. Valerie squinted his eyes and follow the path of his companion’s finger. Ahead of them sat a series of mountains, grey leviathans scratching at the sky. But that was not what Rasteva meant to call attention to. Instead the being’s cyclopean eye had spotted a trail of smoke drifting upwards from what appeared to be a small cavern carved into the base of the mountains. Light spilled forth from the cavern, offering a shimmering beacon to all that would witness it. “We will head there to protect you from the storm,” Rasteva said.


“Splendid!” Valerie exclaimed.


Overhead snow began to fall in chilling sheets of white. Valerie shuddered as the wind and ice enveloped his vulnerable body. He found himself inadvertently edging behind Rasteva using them as a shield against the oncoming torrent of wind. The armored being trudged ever forth through deeper and deeper swathes of snow, seemingly oblivious to the worsening condition. Through the driving snow and ice the duo could still see their destination, now not much more than an ember behind a curtain of frost. Although they were not much farther than a stone’s throw the distance seemed insurmountable. The weather threatened to bury them beneath a mile of permafrost.


Valerie held out a shivering hand, it had picked up an alarming blue hue. From beneath his skin vines slithered and took form, poking their lethargic heads out through Val’s fingertips. They began to form a half-shell around the mage. His new safeguard protected him from the worst of the elements, blocking the chilling wind from attacking him. This took considerable energy to maintain, but it was more efficient than freezing to death. Val trundled behind Rasteva, stepping through the trench that the sentinel's large frame had left in its wake. After what seemed like an eternity the duo reached the mouth of the cavern.


Once inside they noticed that the light they had seen had been snuffed out. Wispy trails of smoke slithered from a dead campfire. Half-burned logs and bits of charcoal sat silent, no longer ablaze. Valerie stepped towards the arrangement of wood and crouched near it, his body still spasming from the cold. He held his hand close to the remains and found them to be cold. Something had extinguished the fire before they arrived. The cavern stretched onward into the darkness, it was hard to tell just how expansive it truly was. Val’s thoughts drifted back to the eldritch abomination that his friends and he had encountered whilst spelunking in a similar mountain range. Were there more monsters hiding beneath these mountains. If he wasn’t already shivering the thought would have made him shudder. At this point it didn’t matter, he was getting hypothermia and needed warmth. Rasteva unloaded its load and said to the crouched mage, “unfortunately I have no means by which to start a fire.”


“Not to worry,” Valerie said and once again held out his hand.


From the tip of his finger a small bulb, similar in size and shape to an acorn, sprouted. It was colored a bright orange with yellow splotches along its body. Valerie plucked the acorn from its stem and held it up between two fingers for Rasteva to see. “This is a seed from a Delugian Saltwood Tree, known colloquially as a ‘firesnap’” he said, standing up and taking a few steps back. Valerie threw the acorn at the clump of firewood. Upon impact that nut broke open and exploded, leaking an orange sap onto the wood. After a few moments the sap sizzled with the open air and caught fire. Valerie set to work using it to kindle a proper campfire. As he worked he spoke over his shoulder to Rasteva, “ingenious design to be honest with you, the Delugian Saltwood’s bark is all but impervious to flames and its sap uses minerals from the earth to form an incendiary compound that reacts with oxygen, it starts a fire that only its kin can survive, thus allowing it to propagate and thrive unopposed.”


“Interesting,” Rasteva answered, still keeping an eye upon Valerie.


The fire illuminated the cavern and it turned out to be quite small. Much to Valerie’s relief there were no tunnels that were potentially leading towards unimaginable horrors. Instead there were hundreds of pictograms and symbols carved into the cave walls, all of them written in a language that Valerie could not decipher. He payed the sigils little mind, he was just too damned tired at this point. Rasteva however seemed quite interested in them, pawing a hand across the walls. After a bit of investigation Rasteva turned their gaze back upon the mage and asked, “this one is curious, how are you able to summon plants like that?”


Valerie laughed, “as well, it’s in my blood I suppose you could say.” The mage bit the pad of his thumb until a bright green liquid dripped out. He held out his hand and let the blood drip onto the cold floor of the cavern. After a moment small shoots sprouted from the drops of blood, struggling to grow in such an inhospitable climate. The sprouts grew into something that looked similar to small stalks of wheat, they were connected at the base. Instead of yellow their kernels were a gunmetal grey and they sagged against their own weight. Valerie delicately plucked the plant from the ground and offered it towards Rasteva. “A token of our newfound companionship, a Silverthistle, I believe them to be largely extinct in my home realm, harvested by many civilizations as an easy source of metal,” he said, waited for Rasteva to accept the flower and then asked, “why don’t you remove your armor and make yourself comfortable, I’m sure we’ll be here for a while?”

[Rasteva]

Rasteva studied the markings on the cave walls with some level of interest. They clearly weren’t natural, a sure indicator of indigenous life in the area. And the once empty fire pit that Valerie was busy stoking to life only reaffirmed that. The Daemon let a soft rumble, having more questions than answers. They could only hope that their companion was capable of answering them.Valerie’s chatter was somewhat soothing, much preferable to the dead silence interspersed with howling winds out on the plains. Even the Ravens as pleasant as their company was, weren’t quite the same as a companion that could actually speak. A sudden gesture from the Mage caught Rasteva’s attention, and the metal behemoth turned from the cave wall to stare down at them.

Flowers were not a gift that Rasteva was used to receiving, but they graciously accepted the small plant all the same. “Ah, a small gift for me? How kind of you. I shall do my very best to keep it safe.” The metal figure rumbled thoughtfully, not sure of what quite to do with the strange plant as they certainly didn’t have pockets to place it in, and setting aside after just receiving it seemed quite rude. Settling on a decision, the Daemon paced the plant’s stem in a small gap between the metal plate on their left pauldron. One of the Raven’s hopped from Rasteva’s horns to inspect it closely, warbling softly. Shooing the bird away, the Daemon was only barely aware of what Valerie said next.

Rasteva was taken slightly aback at the man’s question, though not quite as much watching him bleed green. That was certainly a new one. Having long since set the animal corpses on the cave floor, the Daemon settled themselves heavily on the ground near the fire. They could gain no benefit from it personally, but the Ravens were pleased by the new source of warmth and quickly flapped down from Rasteva’s horns to settle themselves closer to the small fire. Once they had made themselves comfortable, Rasteva addressed their travelling companion. “Remove my armor? Little one I AM my armor. And in turn it is me. What you see here is not protection, it is my own body.” The Daemon lifted a large metal hand, and with the other pried it off completely. A cloud of smoke, so black that it absorbed all light and reflected none erupted from the armored figure’s metal wrist. “This body is only real in the vaguest sense.” Screwing their hand back onto their wrist, the Daemon moved each clawed finger one by one as if testing them. “Do not ask me to do that again if you would. Losing parts tends to end as poorly for me as it would for you.”

Rasteva’s burning eye moved around their visor of its own accord, both seeing and blind at once. “I must ask, what would bring you out into such a harsh land friend, might you be lost as well?” The Daemon let out a low metallic rumble, the sound oddly thoughtful somehow. “I am...Not from here I will confess. Or anywhere for that matter, but that is a story best saved for another time.” Rasteva’s eye suddenly halted its orbit around their visor, snapping to focus on the small man at the other side of the fire. “Are you warm enough? Do you require food? I know that to be something your kind have a particular need for.” Rasteva was surprised that Valerie had managed to make the trip without complaint, if the man’s coloration and violent shivering had been any indication the short journey to the cave hadn’t been easy on them.The Daemon pointed a large metal claw towards the animal corpses resting nearby. “I suppose you may take what you need from those. They were to be gifted to one of the Dragons of this land, but only one of them may be enough.” Granted Rasteva wasn’t sure of that, but when dealing with Dragons one could never be sure what would set them off. All the same, the Daemon did not want to appear rude, especially after being given a gift earlier before.

“Now then. Do you reside here in this place? Or were you pulled here like I was? I recall the God of this world saying that there were others like me, but it has left me at a bit of a loss. I am not sure what he meant or even who. Did he mean that this world is filled with countless souls as lost as I am?” Rasteva’s burning eye blinked out of existence briefly as if they were mulling over their thoughts before it reappeared once more. “That does not strike me as an efficient way of running a reality.” The Daemon lifted a metal gauntlet, waving it in the air as if to brush of their previous thoughts. “Ah, I apologize for rambling on. I have many questions and here I’ve not given you the chance to answer any of them. Please, tell me how it is that you came to be here.”

[Strazio Rockwell]

As Valerie watched Rasteva remove their hand he let loose a surprised sigh. This was certainly a new one. A sentient shadow inhabiting a suit of armor, strange things indeed. But, Valerie supposed, that was why he preferred the Omniverse over his home. There was always something new to be discovered, some eldritch secret hiding beneath rocks or a foreign being inhabiting a suit of armor as though it were skin. That raised the question, did the armor act as a true skin, or was Rasteva unable to feel anything physical? Could he not feel the chill in the air, or the warmth of the fire? What about the scent of flowers or the delights of a sumptuous meal? These questions swirled through Valerie’s brain at a breakneck speed, but he chose not to ask them. He seemed it rude to ask such personal questions, not that he figured Rasteva would necessarily mind, but the armored sentinel was keen on asking its own questions and Valerie was more than happy to answer.

“I appreciate your concern for my well-being Rasteva,” he offered a smile and waved his hand, “I’m plenty warm, and sunlight is the only sustenance I require, though I can choose to consume physical food if I wish, it is largely for pleasure.” Valerie paused, but before Rasteva could continue their line of questions the mage added, “before you ask, I am human, but I do believe our definitions of ‘human’ will probably vary by a reasonable amount, but that is an explanation for another time as the answer becomes quite convoluted.”

As he listened to Rasteva’s line of questioning it occurred to Val that his metal friend was “fresh-off-the-boat.” It also occurred to him that in all likelihood Rasteva was prime, his mentioning of Omni was decent proof of that. Val was no prime. His arrival was not greeted by the omnipotent creator of this world, but rather by the chirps of forest birds. He had simply fallen asleep in his own world and upon waking he found himself in the Omniverse. Not that this necessarily bothered him, he had mastered the art of going with the flow to such a degree that even a river would be hard pressed to beat him. The mage wasn’t completely sure who had summoned him, but he had a decent idea.

“Well I wouldn’t say countless like you, see this world is separated into two distinct classes, primes, like yourself, and secondaries like me,” he paused, his fingers performing their ballerina routine. He thought of how to word his next sentence properly. “You see in this world primes are not tethered by a mortal coil, yes you may die, but your death is like the smoke from this fire, ephemeral,” he said, “secondaries on the other hand do not come back from the dead unless a prime wills it, and even then I doubt those resurrected are truly the same.” Valerie looked into Rasteva’s burning eye, trying to get a sense of his reaction to this knowledge. It was like trying to read the body language of a stone wall. The mage sighed and poked at the fire, “as far as my residency, well, one could refer to me as a nomad, I yearn for a world beyond the cozy confines of a city and as such I have no permanent dwelling, though I will admit my foray into this frozen hell has not necessarily been a pleasant one, though it has had its moments."

[Rasteva]

It was a few hours after that they’d parted ways with the strange plant man, that Rasteva began to miss him. He’d been talkative, though that was something that the Daemon hadn’t minded. In fact, they enjoyed the man’s company immensely. Valerie had been a veritable font of knowledge and their help, though brief had been immense.

They had whiled away the passing Blizzard inside the cave, talking about nothing in particular and for a moment the Daemon had been able to forget their troubles. Good company tended to do that, but as with most things pleasant, it had come to an end. As much as they’d have liked to Rasteva could not lurk around a cave forever and nor could Valerie. The man apparently had some unattended business to take care of, and while the Daemon had wanted to go with him he knew that it would do neither of them any good in the end. Rasteva’s business was already dangerous as it was and they had little reason to fear anything. The fact that they could not die permanently within this realm had somewhat lessened their concerns, but the small man did not have such a luxury. 

Loathe as they were to leave a potential guide in this strange realm behind, Rasteva had no desire to see Valerie get eaten by an irate Dragon.

Their parting of ways was not overly long or sentimental. Sentiment was not something the Daemon considered worthwhile in any form. But it was amicable enough, and both travelers agreed to speak again should they ever cross path on their respective journeys. Rasteva could not say where when or how they would meet again or if they’d even meet at all, but the thought of having even ONE ally in this frozen Hellscape was comforting, even if they were not one they saw on a constant basis.

Rasteva continued their trek across the Snowy plains in earnest, cutting a trail through the freshly fallen snow left in the wake of the Blizzard. The Mountains were still a long ways off and did not seem to be much closer than they had been when their journey started but it did little to bother the Daemon. They could easily walk through the night and did not need to stop for food or rest. The Ravens flapped overhead, cawing loudly every now and again, perching on the Daemon’s horns whenever they became tired. Rasteva was not sure what they’d done to attract the attention of the birds to the degree that they’d stay with the Daemon, but the armored behemoth didn’t have it in them to complain. Since parting ways with Valerie, the birds had once more become the Daemon’s only company and they had no desire to lose them either.

Whether the hours passed quickly or slowly, the Daemon could not be sure. Time was not something they often kept track of and they had no reason to start now. But if the sun dipping below the horizon was any indication, they’d been walking for a long time. The Ravens perched together on Rasteva’s horns, huddling close to keep warm in the cold winds. Rasteva continued to trudge onward, even as the darkness became deeper around them. The stars were soon the only thing they had to light their way and he Daemon could not help but let out a deep rumbling sigh. They were cold stars, unforgiving and unfamiliar and Rasteva briefly wondered if there was any point to what they were doing at all. The one called Omni said that they could not leave, would NEVER leave and the Daemon fought back a surge of irritation at the thought of him. Was this their fate? Left to wander across infinite planes for the amusement of some God? What then, was the point of their quest? In the end, it would change nothing. Rasteva knew that they were locked into this existence until the end of time itself and that they might as well lay down in the snow and stay there for all eternity as things would all end in the same way.

But still, the Daemon trudged on through the snow. Rasteva had never been a creature known for putting forth effort when they knew it would do them no good in the end. Why waste time and energy when the future was laid out clearly before you? Why bother when all effort put forth would leave you with nothing to show for it? Rasteva had no answer to any of those questions. They could foresee no solution to their predicament any better than the Ravens sitting astride their horns could. And yet even still they urged themselves forward through the snow. Even without saying, without even knowing Rasteva’s mind had already been made up. So long as they could move, they could fight. So long as the Daemon lived they could do something. And so long as something could be done, the Daemon knew that they possessed in their hands a chance at escape. It was small, and it was frail. Barely a whisper of a thought, but it existed as much as they did. And so long as this sliver of hope remained, Rasteva would pursue it, even to the end of existence.

The Daemon trudged through the snow, and the stars watched their passing in silence.