The woods that reach for miles behind his home are a solitary place. A place where he goes when he needs to think or to simply stretch his legs. Or when itâs been so long since heâs tasted real combat that he needs a refresher.
Heâs cleared a moderate area, using the logs to create a lean-to shed and a fire. Heâs stripped himself of his robes, leaving only the underlying garments to adorn him. A simple button up shirt and the decorated pants are the only shield from the elements as he stands in the middle of the clearing. Clasping his hands together, his horn shines with a bright light. Thereâs a shock-wave that blows the snow away as he slams them into the ground, followed by a rumbling as golems of various sizes and shapes dig their way out of the dirt.
Somebody was going to have a fun time.
















