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Gavlvich Fellfrost slow crossed the bridge, his every steel clad foot step thudded across the gaping chasm. Gavlvich sighed as his attempt to remain silent was drowned out by the icy howl creaking forth from the bridge, "Why cant Wulf do this " muttered Gavlvich to himself "This ruins are as cold as Atamora it self! if I don't die of the cold I'll be butchered by these bandits, and why is it every time I settle down for a nice hot bowl of horker stew Jorim co-" Gavlvich stopped in mid sentence when he noticed movement ahead. Slow he reached back for his greatsword and felt the cold steel segments of his gauntlets wrap around the familiar grip of the swords handle, with the sound of grinding iron he drew the blade and quietly strode after the vanishing figure.