Muffled wind roared across the jagged edges of blackened stone.
Thousands of raindrops reverberated across the rocky terrain. The drops, sounded heavy and destructive.
A dense black fog swirled around the mountain's inclined slope. It was moving very quickly. It almost seemed as if it were flowing down the mountain. Behaving more like a liquid than a gas.
Looking down from far above, a single speck of dim light stood out along the black expanse. It seemed like a single star in the night sky. A small, dim, lonely star.
A silver light reflected on small streams of flowing water, as well on the polished black stone.
A black boot clumped into a shallow stream, droplets of water returned back into the air, for a mere moment or two.
A black figure was walking up the slope, holding a black lantern that shined with pure white light.
The figure was wearing a large black cloak, with a hood obscuring the details along his face. He seemed to have cloth covering every bit of skin.
The lantern's light only reached so far, illuminating mere meters of the treacherous region.
The wind was strong enough to send the figure flying away, and this wasn't even the worst of it. In fact, this was only the beginning of the storm.
As the figure slowly walked forward he came across a large black obsidian wall. There was a small brown rope dancing chaotically in the wind. With a large nail holding a small section of it in place.
The figure came to an abrupt stop, the torrential wind picked up, his cloak fluttered chaotically.
The man placed the small lantern along his belt. The dark fog obscured even more of the forsaken world. The figure walked forward, extending his hand towards the rope.
Attaching a small clip protruding from his waist along the rope, he began to climb.
The rain felt like small pellets of frozen ice. The force transferred through the cloak.
The rope was also wet, and moving around frantically. However the cliff was like a flat piece of stone, there were no ledges to grab on too.
The man gritted his teeth and began climbing faster.
A large gust blew a pocket of very dense black fog, covering the remaining world in its obscured grasp.
A small change occurred across the world. A small ominous feeling traveled along the peaks, the feeling manifested itself and to several dark hands and grabbed the man's icy heart.
It was the same feeling some people would get, right before disaster shook the heart of the world.
The treacherous wind picked up even more, the rain drops grew in size. Resembling pieces of gravel far more than droplets of rain.
As the man looked up, the rope was suddenly gone.
Well not gone, hidden behind the ledge of the small cliff.
The man pulled himself over the ledge, being bombarded by the wind, he slowly walked with his fluttering cloak forward. The ground within view was flat and slick. With small black puddles resting along the shimmering black stone.
The man followed the rope forward, as the wind suddenly picked up even more. While standing he slid a couple of feet to the slide, leaning forward he tried his hardest to resist.
Pushing against the wind he continued to follow the rope.
A rock as large as the man's head suddenly flew mere inches away from the man's head. The rain was blinding him, so he barely even noticed it.
The storm was getting worse, it felt as if the world itself was trying to kill him. Targeting him for some unimportant reason. He had always been unlucky, feeling as though the world had an outing for him.
Yet it was merely a storm. A storm that he may or may not survive.
The lantern light suddenly reflected back to him, from a short black wall. The man placed a hand along the wall and began to walk along with it.
A smaller rock blew somewhere near him, crashing into the wall and producing a large boom. It echoed a few times, but was quickly drowned out by other similar sounds. The rope traveled into a small slit along the side of the wall, right next to it, there was a cave.
The man walked inside and his senses slowly returned, he felt a chill along his hands, he felt soaking wet, the wind was loud and the rain was louder. It sounded like bombs exploding just outside the small cave.
The man placed the lantern on the ground and walked slightly further into the cave. He leaned along the wall and slid down it. Sitting down, he placed his hands on his head. They were cold.
His clothes were damp, he was cold. Yet, there was no way to warm up.
Slowly his hands slid from his head and were placed along the ground. Looking up, he stared at the blackened glass like ceiling.
The small lantern barely illuminated it, it had a black cap that looked similar to a witches hat. It was impractical, to say the least.
All the light reaching the ceiling was simply bouncing off the reflective black surface of the walls and floor.
The sounds echoing through the cave became louder and louder.
The man turned his head slightly down, grabbing his hood with one of his frozen hands, he slowly removed it from the top of his head.
His hair was like black silk, his irises were, very dark brown. If one took a quick glance they may have assumed that he just had really big pupils.
He looked young, not truly like a kid, more like an adult with some features still showing resemblance to a youth. Most likely around twenty years old.
His skin was white and pale.
The sounds outside grew louder, the echoes of explosions resonated along the walls of the small cave. The wind picked up, it sounded as though nature was screaming, maybe it was simply angry with the trespasser.
The wind, howling along the sides of the cliff grew louder, it continued to echo along the cave walls. It became deafening as it grew louder and louder.