Raphael travelled without stopping towards the silver peaks. Over the past months, he had been so physically active that such tasks were hardly of difficulty to him.
As he reached closer, he was given a sight of just how big the mountains were.
There were tens of them, all scattered around a snowy field, though at the centre stood one taller than the other.
Its heights stretched into the clouds, and even with Raphael's prowess, he knew it would be a difficult climb.
But then, a sound suddenly came from nearby.
"Who goes there!" A rough male voice spoke.
It seems like he would not have to climb yet.
Raphael turned towards the voice to see a group of five men standing there, clad in clothing for the north. They seemed to be made from wolf pelts, and on their heads, they were hats of the same material.
The men were armed with all types of crude weapons. Axes and swords mainly, but one of them even wielded a spear.
Raphael turned towards the group with a raised eyebrow.
