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The expedition was dreadful and cold. Their legs had been chained together and he was forced to bear the cold, frigid air of the north the entire trip, his cloak the only thing keeping him warm. Never during his travels had he been to a place so fucking cold, and trying to get used to it on the sea as they were was futile. The water would often crash into them, making whatever efforts they’d managed in keeping warm all that much more useless. It was only small comfort that he had a gambeson underneath his armour to keep him somewhat protected from the cold, not nearly enough however.

Still, he was brought up onto the deck as they arrived in the north. A dreary place, harsh and unkind to its people. Almost the exact opposite of where he grew up. Oh, this was just going to be fun wasn’t it? The smell of spices that constantly filled the air back home was gone, replaced with the brine of the sea and the scent of cold, hard stone spent too long in ice. The place looked, and even smelled cold. Everywhere was white, the few places that weren’t was where the mud had turned it brown and into some sort of slosh. 

And everywhere Itkovian looked, people were looking back at them, huddled underneath layers of clothing and fur, their eyes cold and hard. Mistrusting. 

Where the hell had they brought him? They told him he was to be seeking redemption and a part of him thought since he was given his weapons and armour that he was going to be fighting in some protracted war where the Order were desperate for recruits. Alas, that wasn’t the case. This was a freezing landscape and he had no idea what he was meant to do.

They were ushered out of the ship, Itkovian’s helm under an arm as they walked through the city. He heard the curses flung at him and tried to mostly ignored them, his mind wondering how he’d manage to turn [i]this[/i] to his favour. It was certainly a dreary place, but something could be made of it, he just had to look for opportunities. At least for the moment they were going to be staying in a town, which was honestly better than what he’d initially imagined.

It seemed he spoke too soon however. The town wasn’t meant for them, but rather the city of tents was… and although it looked back, truth be told it wasn’t [i]that[/i] bad. He’d lived in tents before while out with his mercenary band, but the cold was something he was going to have to get used to by himself. Which was going to take a while, and he was loathe to strip down to his small clothes for sleep during the night. How the hell were they going to manage that. Fuck.

They were ushered to meet the Captain, young looking fellow, and not nearly as charismatic as Brush Tath, but who would be under these circumstances. He listened to the Captain speak and his words were reasonable. Beyond reasonable actually, he’d never thought he’d come here and be told he was free, to do as he wished and only answer to one man. It seemed too good to be true. But he thought about it for a moment. The people here looked like they hated them, so what good that would bring he had no idea, and if he was in any way dishonourable, he’d try to escape. Which, undoubtedly, would lead to a slow death in the wilds. 

He was in truth a prisoner here. He’d just have to find a way to make the best of it. [color=lightgray][b]“Aye, I agree to your terms, Captain,”[/b][/color] he said, [color=lightgray][b]“seems reasonable enough.”[/b][/color]