AGodofIrony

The young man blew into his hands, the hot air from his lungs temporarily warming his fingers as he rubbed them together to fight off the chill. The fire in front of him was small, but it was starting to grow, the cold wind making it grow faster. “Usually doesn’t get this cold this time of the year,” the young man muttered to himself. He was tall, with blond hair that was just on the side of shaggy. Pale with green eyes, he had an athletic build that was hidden under the warm cloak currently draped around him. An eagle eyed observer might notice the armor beneath the cloak, an unusual green color. He sat on a strange looking chair by the campfire he had started, warming himself. Next to the chair was a simple looking bag that looked too small to have produced the chair, along with two different longswords. One looked ornate, it’s hilt designed almost like a grasping claw around the sheath. The other looked plain and ordinary, nothing fancy about it at all. As the fire grew, the blond