White-Wolf stood before the storming snow that slammed into his face like a frost giant's breath. Icicles formed on his red beard and underneath his nose. His deep hazel eyes glazing over from the cold. He knew standing here any longer meant that his life would be torn from his muscled body. He was the greatest warrior of his clan. He couldn't help but wonder what would happen to the Great Elk tribe if he had died right here in this god forsaken chasm of icebergs and desolate tundra. |
Perhaps his younger brother would take his place because he couldn't imagine anyone else but him. Though he didn't much care if he died here and now. At least he fought many battles across the narrow seas, and peddled his way through tying bonds between other tribes. Sooner or later the winter was here to take him, and when it did, he would be roaring like the blizzard before him.
Off in the distance a small orange flicker gleamed. White-Wolf squinted to make out what it was, but figured it were nothing. Who else would be crazy enough to come out here in the Frozen Wastes? Certainly nobody else from the Great Elks. This was his test and burden. This was his moment to see if he could be the leader that brought his people home once and for all. See, a leader isn't tested by his might or his good looks. Nothing that feeble can make a good leader. A good leader is measured by his trials and abilities to withstand even the harshest of troubles. A good leader lead by example. If he could cross the Frozen Wastes, then so could his people. They would follow him wherever he went once he returned. If he returned.
White-Wolf saw another orange flicker out of the corner of his eye. He turned to squint off in that direction again, but figured it was just the blizzard playing tricks on his eyes. Just as he went to walk forth again the flickering light came forth again. This time White-Wolf knew for sure that his mind wasn't playing tricks. He rushed towards the direction of the light, and when he finally made it there he couldn't believe what he saw. A giant machine made of glass and iron. What was this contraption? He had never seen anything like it before. Steam came loose from a iron tube atop of the device. A howl and a whistle followed shortly after.
Nobody appeared to be around. It was a good thing too because surely White-Wolf would have ended their life in once stroke of his great ax. He removed his glove from his hand and touched the surface of the machine. It was hotter than a campfire. Didn't make any sense to White-Wolf though. How could something like this exist, and how could it resist the subzero temperatures of the Wastes' blizzards? He marched around the other side of the machine and saw a oddly shaped metal box protruding from the machine's surface. The box had its door wide open and flapping in the harsh winds. White-Wolf grabbed the flapping door and took a look at the box. There was a mess of levers and buttons about its insides. He twisted a green one and the machine made a loud whistle followed by a cracking noise.
Startled by the noise White-Wolf let go and took a step back. The machine began to rumble and suddenly in a loud pop it disappeared. White-Wolf rubbed his eyes and blinked out of confusion. What just happened? Was he hallucinating after all? He stepped forward to where the big machine once stood and below his feet was a small round shaped piece of metal with an orange glowing resonance coming from it. Perhaps this was the orange flickering light that he had saw earlier. White-Wolf picked up the glowing metal and stared at it for a moment before placing it in his pocket. Almost instantly he felt warmth rush through his body as if it were Spring. Both astounded and confused he turned towards the direction of his village and rushed away as fast as he could.
White-Wolf had finally found what the Great Elks needed in order to make it across the Frozen Wastes. With this odd device he hoped that the shaman could conjure up some kind of magic to protect his people in the never ending blizzard, and within a few days they could finally make it back home to Atmora. Little did he know that the Dwemer artifact the he held in his pocket had more power, and more secrets than the world could ever know. Power and secrets that once destroyed an entire civilization.
Off in the distance a small orange flicker gleamed. White-Wolf squinted to make out what it was, but figured it were nothing. Who else would be crazy enough to come out here in the Frozen Wastes? Certainly nobody else from the Great Elks. This was his test and burden. This was his moment to see if he could be the leader that brought his people home once and for all. See, a leader isn't tested by his might or his good looks. Nothing that feeble can make a good leader. A good leader is measured by his trials and abilities to withstand even the harshest of troubles. A good leader lead by example. If he could cross the Frozen Wastes, then so could his people. They would follow him wherever he went once he returned. If he returned.
White-Wolf saw another orange flicker out of the corner of his eye. He turned to squint off in that direction again, but figured it was just the blizzard playing tricks on his eyes. Just as he went to walk forth again the flickering light came forth again. This time White-Wolf knew for sure that his mind wasn't playing tricks. He rushed towards the direction of the light, and when he finally made it there he couldn't believe what he saw. A giant machine made of glass and iron. What was this contraption? He had never seen anything like it before. Steam came loose from a iron tube atop of the device. A howl and a whistle followed shortly after.
Nobody appeared to be around. It was a good thing too because surely White-Wolf would have ended their life in once stroke of his great ax. He removed his glove from his hand and touched the surface of the machine. It was hotter than a campfire. Didn't make any sense to White-Wolf though. How could something like this exist, and how could it resist the subzero temperatures of the Wastes' blizzards? He marched around the other side of the machine and saw a oddly shaped metal box protruding from the machine's surface. The box had its door wide open and flapping in the harsh winds. White-Wolf grabbed the flapping door and took a look at the box. There was a mess of levers and buttons about its insides. He twisted a green one and the machine made a loud whistle followed by a cracking noise.
Startled by the noise White-Wolf let go and took a step back. The machine began to rumble and suddenly in a loud pop it disappeared. White-Wolf rubbed his eyes and blinked out of confusion. What just happened? Was he hallucinating after all? He stepped forward to where the big machine once stood and below his feet was a small round shaped piece of metal with an orange glowing resonance coming from it. Perhaps this was the orange flickering light that he had saw earlier. White-Wolf picked up the glowing metal and stared at it for a moment before placing it in his pocket. Almost instantly he felt warmth rush through his body as if it were Spring. Both astounded and confused he turned towards the direction of his village and rushed away as fast as he could.
White-Wolf had finally found what the Great Elks needed in order to make it across the Frozen Wastes. With this odd device he hoped that the shaman could conjure up some kind of magic to protect his people in the never ending blizzard, and within a few days they could finally make it back home to Atmora. Little did he know that the Dwemer artifact the he held in his pocket had more power, and more secrets than the world could ever know. Power and secrets that once destroyed an entire civilization.