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[sub]Location: Blighted Lands → Nearby Town[/sub]
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Amongst the field of dead trees, a lone redwood stood out amongst them, trudging through the snowy wasteland. As soon as the expedition arrived and started setting up camp, Ivor pressed onward, volunteering himself to verify the safety of the surrounding woodlands. For all his years of expertise, hunting, tracking, and environmental awareness, even he felt outside of his scope entering the blighted area. The air felt heavy, almost thick, even the ground felt more akin to ash than snow. The vibrant sounds of nature had long fallen behind their troupe some miles ago, but here the silence felt more stark and present amongst the barren wastes. Ancient husks, erect from the earth were the only evidence of nature, now monuments to the once verdant growth that dotted the landscape. Ivor’s hand traced over wood, thick ridges leading to deep gaps between the dry, brittle bark. The tree almost appeared shriveled, as if the very life force within it had been sucked away. Ivor winced at the thought, before pressing onward to the town proper.

Like the surrounding wastes, the town itself was quiet and devoid of life. Buildings creaked as Ivor walked through the streets, corpses littered the ground, some in tattered clothes, others in rusted armor. The giant knelt down to examine one of the bodies, the sigil of the moon present on all Lunarian soldiers was covered in a thick patina; the darkened armor of night rife with rust. Ivor stood and continued closer to the town center, but stopped short to examine markings on a nearby building. Claw marks, meters long, were deeply embedded into a storefront, stopping short of a hole where a door used to be. He briefly stood at the entrance, scanning inside, furniture overturned or smashed completely, more claw marks, no blood, no bodies.

Ivor, deciding he had seen enough, opted to turn back and go towards the camp, not wanting to stay longer than he should. The town itself did not seem to present an immediate threat and whatever had happened here, whether there was an attack or not, happened long before they got there, and perhaps long after the blight itself had arrived. Just as he was about to leave something in the air caught his attention, raising his head he sniffed. A faint smell was coming from the town center, had he not lingered he might have missed it entirely. Taking in the scent, it smelt almost earthy, wet, distinct, yet being unfamiliar with it, he could not entirely place what it might have been.

The sound of wood cracking, pulled Ivor from his stupor. Alert he drew his bearded axe, ready to strike down whatever creature may come; but nothing came. Adrenaline high, he breathed deeply to calm his nerves, gripping the axe handle tightly he raised it to gaze at the worn, etched metal. A single, carved in the old tongue, was writ upon the axe head, “Unyielding”. The giant brought the metal to his head, cold steel to pallid flesh, [color=9a45dc]“Pater, give me strength,”[/color] he spoke fluidly, invoking the will of his ancestors as he journeyed back to the forward camp and report back to Orion.