[centre][img]http://orig01.deviantart.net/e4a6/f/2016/083/1/2/ardos_by_fenixking13-d9w8yq4.png[/img][/centre]
[centre][color=6ecff6][b]Artos Bane[/b][/color][/centre]


Artos stared off into nothing as he processed the sheer power one would need to accomplish such a feat of destruction. To obliterate an entire city, even one as small as his own homeland, would take tremendous power and an unimaginable amount of hatred. For Artos the concept of death was one embraced years ago at the hands of the snow and the stalkers there in. Men and women fell to the blades of their neighbors when the time came to survive. Granted that was rare but it was not unheard of. In the north you fought off the grinning specter of finality every day. 

[color=6ecff6]"In the north, death is common. Welcome, almost. Every man, woman, even children, are taught that it is an accepted part of life. To face it and fight is what makes you stronger.. That someone would do such a thing to these people, with no chance of defending themselves, is an evil that should never have been committed. My resolve to join you on your quest, Master Felix, is only made stronger with this knowledge."[/color]

His hand grasped his hilt tight as he imagined the lost souls harvested by such monsters. At least when you died in the snowlands it was fighting with every breath to continue, be your end by tooth and claw, spear or sword, or the tundra itself.