Nevermind All That

Climbing up mountains is not an easy thing to do. Even more so when you are completely inexperienced at climbing (I mean I've killed people with necromancy who have climbed things, but there are certain things like muscle memory and other facets of mountain climbing that memories just don't cover). So why was I climbing a mountain? Was it related to the war I talked of in my last entry? No not in the slightest. See when we had killed the rulers of Lork I had discovered a map that supposedly lead to a long forgotten treasure, and ever being the treasure seeker I am (look if a man is going to live forever he wants to be able to live in comfort, treasure helps that). But what of that War Trezlan? Wars some and go my dear readers, it resolved itself without my assistance. What about Alontor's ability to see the future how did you find that out? Hanlon told me in an insulting way implying I'm not very good at observation (guilty as charged). Ok those things out of the way, back to my original point, mountain climbing is a real bitch.

I have to admit as I was using a pick axe to get a hold on an icey rock face that seemed unending I worried that I had read the map wrong and I was in fact just climbing for the fun of it, which is not true there is no fun in mountain climbing. But like is true in every other facet of my life I continued on because at the very least there had to be something at the top of a mountain, I mean why else be there (this philosophy I'll admit is more flawed than others that I have, its not like the Gods put mountains in places just to shower them in gifts, but when you're cold possibly lost, and haven't eaten in a day you find yourself believing in crazy logic).

As my pick axe reached the top of the rock face I was climbing I felt a strong urgency to throw myself up there immeadiately (because you are always closest to failure right before victory). Good thing to because no sooner had I reached the top then the rock face which had previously been steady and stable (well as much as a rock face could be) suddenly dislodged and fell all the way to wherever rock faces go when they cachunk off the sides of mountains (probably crushed an orphange for war orphans, because that seems like the kind of thing one of my careless actions would result in).

The top of the mountain was cold, really damn cold. Like I had actually prepared a bit (hence the pick axe) and was wearing a fairly think animal hide jacket, and the cold wind and atmosphere was almost painful. I could feel my beard freezing, I didn't know a beard could freeze, but there it was freezing (I also realized I should have bought a hat or let my hair grow out because being bald made the cold all the worse. It was so cold I didn't notice at first that there were people up there with me. Completely frozen solid people.

Which was reassuring because if people got frozen up there it clearly meant something up there was worth having (again bad logic, again see reasons). So I was hopeful as I was quickly on my way to joining the assembled frozen masses. Well as hopeful as someone can be while they feel their face freezing off. So like half hopeful.