Knight Harsher Tales: Arctic Feral

Arctic Feral

Arctic Feral

Straining his ears, he can hear the howling of the snowstorm over the roaring jet engines of the small aircraft he’s been ordered to jump out of. Codename: Feral – one of the KnightHarsher’s elite operatives. The scientists in R&D are hanging all hopes of getting Specimen 18 home on Feral’s abilities. His detective skills paired with the wolf-like magical enhancements make him an ideal tracker for this mission. Most days he would be thrilled to get out of the city for a few hours, but tracking a miniature dragon over miles of frozen tundra isn’t his ideal excursion.

Tugging on the new arctic gloves his climate change costume is complete. Another group of scientists in R&D decided this mishap would provide a perfect opportunity to stage a trial run of their new extreme weather gear.  Feral’s highly recognizable red and blue look was recreated in semi metallic ‘frost’ and ‘snowcap’ white, complete with a faux-fur hood attached around his collar bone and connected to his planchet-style backpack.  He noticed his pilot shivering behind the console.  Obviously his standard-issue flight suit wasn’t comparable to the Knight’s gear.

“How close are we to the drop Mac?” Feral spoke as warmly as he could.

“About 3 minutes Feral. You ready for this?” Mac, the pilot asked.   “I’ve got orders to speed up just before you jump.  It’s going to be a harsh entry.”

Feral just smiles as he unbuckles and moves to the back of the craft. Mac gives him a thumbs up as he pushed the control up and the craft begins to lose altitude. Feral presses a hidden plate on his mask.  He feels an electric buzz in his temple an instant before Specimen 18’s stats flood his field of vision. A 3D representation of the dragon rotates slowly before him as a series of programed ‘thoughts’ begin to register in his mind.

-5’4” long,

– 7”  wingspan

-approximately 120 lbs.

– Bright orange skin with purple warts along his back and underside.

He taps his mask again a wash of focus cascades over him. He presses a stud on one of his wristbands and holds it for 6 seconds.  His suit begins to heat up and the soles of his boots grow chunky cleats. Mac holds his hand up, signs with 3 fingers. A cloud rips open as the aircraft drops another 20 feet to the ground. Mac signs with 2 fingers and the wall behind Feral begins to split. He closes his eyes and embraces the weightless feeling consuming his form as he plummets into the harsh climate below.  TBC

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