Darath grunted and dragged himself over the final ledge, collapsing onto the rocky outcropping. His breaths were short and shallow, each intake of freezing air searing his lungs raw. Around him, the wind whipped and swirled with ferocious force, quickly dragging the heat from his tired flesh. His battered fur cloak snapped and danced, tugging at his shoulders as if trying to escape the winds chill grasp.
Finding his breath once more, the aging guardsman dragged himself to his knees and to the edge of the outcropping. He peered out over the landscape spread out bellow him. A thin veil of low clouds shrouded the Covian lands in an eerie grey mist. The winter frosts had yet to dissipate. To Darath it seemed that he only felt away from Cove, truly disconnected from his responsibilities there, when he regarded it from this high vantage point. It was only here that he could confront the struggles of his life past. The mountain offered nothing but brutal, unjudging solace. Many times since he had first made the trek to the peaks of Glenmore he had wrestled with the inner strife that often threaten to manifest its self. But he was the better for it. Feeling the unyielding strength of the stone beneath his feet had given him strength, and allowed him to forget. The Glenmore Mountains were indeed Daraths sanctuary.
A distant rumbling and shaking that reverberated through the mountains jolted him from his thinking. He grimaced, a failed experiment of the Glenmore Dwarfs no doubt. Taking a final look out across Cove, Darath began his decent home.------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
[OOC:] Just an introduction about Darath joining the Highlanders. More to come!
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