Skeg Bog [POST HERE FIRST]

The growls and sounds of wildlife would be joined by a new sound as it made its way through the dark bog. The sound of armor clanking, the metallic sound soft yet still noticeable as its wearer moved. A constant and steady rhythm of heavy footfalls could also be heard.

Under that darkened canopy only a dull light, barely enough to make out the surrounding landscape penetrated yet every now and then it would glint as it caught the bare metal armor that Damtion wore always or the greatsword as long as he was tall rested on his shoulder. The metal surface was scratched and worn in many places, yet still seemed sturdy and strong. His whole form was obscured by this metallic plate armor, and he stood well over seven feet tall.

Damtion walked through the bog at a steady pace, seemingly paying no mind to the creatures in the bog as they made their various sounds, and he would continue to pay them no mind unless they came to stand in his path. 

Damtion stopped in his tracks for the first time in perhaps days as the creature revealed itself to him. The armored monolith of a figure did not so much as make a peep in response to the creatures snarling, however. No... the only sound that could be heard was the ever familiar sound of metal armor lightly clinking as its wearer moved. Damtion grasped the gigantic greatsword on his shoulder with two hands now and slightly turned his body to get into a stance that showed he was ready for a fight should the creature charge. 

Damtion braced for the impact, but his movements weren't quick enough. He was sent flying back a few feet with a loud CLANG as the horns connected with his breastplate. 

The huge armored form landed hard on the ground, the sound of the metal armor impacting with the ground akin to the sound heard when two knights clash in a joust. The monlithic knight did not let go of his greatsword in this fall however, and he rose again with seemingly renewed strength and vigor, holding up his greatsword again to face the beast. 

Damtion's breastplate was somewhat dented and a bit scratched from the impact, but otherwise there were no punctures or other such damage. 

Immortal Legat marches through the bogs of Skeg, the damp peat crumbling under its heavy footsteps. It has come from a distant realm hundreds of miles away to reach the Helmfirth Aristocracy, and continues its trek apparently without regard for the wildlife of the Skeg Bog or the dangerous political atmosphere.

The Immortal continued its march out of the bog.

Hands in his pockets Rickard marches through the forest, a constant litany of complaints muttered under his breath the entire time. He despised traveling by foot, hated the forest, and he wasn't fond of bugs either. On a ship you could, if you were the surgeon, relax in your cabin rather than walk. The sea didn't have rocks, dirt, or other unpleasant things to get into your clothing. And as long as you ran a good tidy ship, the amount of vermin and bugs was practically nill.

Then things got even worse when he arrived in the middle of a bog. If he didn't find a blasted witch able to help out here, he'd... Well, probably be very upset.