Frustration

The Cleric bellowed with a mixture of rage and frustration, he leapt onto a large boulder and sprung down again surprisingly light footed in heavy chainmail shoes. The Clerics cloak billowed behind him as he dashed between another set of large boulders that had fallen from the cliffs above. Diving around a stumpy weathered tree just in time to see the red glow he had be chasing slip away further up the mountain pass unreachable. Sighing with frustration and exhaustion the Cleric slumped down on the tufty grass with his back against a gnarled tree to compose himself.

Refreshed from his pilgrimage the Cleric had visited Branishor and had a set of plate leggings made up. The training to use these had been hard but that had added to his sense of accomplishment. The Cleric ad expected to return to the western mountains and resume his hunt just as before, however this was not the case. Many marcs have passed without success for the Cleric, the distant clatter of hoofs seemed to taunt the Cleric, he could not even hunt these creatures now for the plentiful gold they provided.

The Cleric sat and fiddled with his sword, although Radient Slayer was close to his heart the Cleric had hoped to soon have enough weapon primitives for his ultimate weapon. It seemed he would now have to rely on the sporadic supply at the local market and the generosity of friends. Despite the setback the Clerics mind was now clear, the parts were only one part of the ultimate quest, the forge guardian would have to be fought and defeated he would need to do much training.

The Cleric raised himself to his feet drew himself up and focused his mind, he would work out his frustration in the anthill.