He sway to and fro, his outline against the sky. his hand clutched staff like a desperate man would cling to a rope, his outline against the sky bold. The mixed red and yellow dyes of his robe contrasting the white and grey of the cold hills.

Too long had he walked the unforgiving hills and mountains of High Pass, he removed his mask, and rubbed his eyes. staring with blurred vision upon the white sheet that seemed to never end. replacing his mask he drove himself up the hillside. snowflakes would melt if they fluttered down too close to his flesh. the snow about his boots seemed softer than anywhere else. the temperature was no concern for him, but no man can walk forever and his journey had been a long one.

The winds of magic were strong here, he felt the red wind surge and burn in his heart and it sent a shiver down his spine. sure enough there was chaos here, he could see them in the distance. zealots and magi, twisting the winds as they worked. curse their dark gods. they appeared to be summoning something, as they tend to do when large groups of the buggers get together. however today, that was not his concern and there was nothing he could do alone.

his attention drew further north, in a clearing of trees, a chosen. a knight of the raven god. Sol stood tall now, rage filling his soul with the power of aqshy, he felt the wind surge and his strides grew longer, purpose carried his steps and the air around him began to warm.

this warriors name..it began with an I maybe? or a B....he had been told this...but in the end no one is left to name the ashes...with the legions before him he shall not be given the honor of a memory...he is chaos. he is below all forms of scum and dirt. Sol was only told he'd know he had the right target when he saw that sword, and what a sword. It was the length of a man and as stout as a dwarf, blood was frozen to the spikes that coveted the blade. there were symbols and etchings near the hilt, some carrying along up throughout the length of the weapon.

He was definitely the one Sol was told about. This last deed and he would be done here. He remembered his senior bright wizard's command. after this last kill he could find his allies again, the men, the elves and the dwarfs of Precept. long times had past since he fought by their side, too long, but if ever there was a time they needed to fight as one again. this was it.

Sol let loose with all the fury and rage he had for the despicable warrior, the weak minded slave of the raven god, funneling himself through the red wind. this battle would not be simple, but in Sigmars name he would prevail.