An armored man stands at the rugged peak of a mountain. He looks rather out of place donning what looks like something both very old as well as exceedingly new. Steam seemed to roll off his shoulders keeping the snow at bay that twisted and swirled about the strange and aberrant figure. Water ran down his back and left a puddle of water around his feet that would quickly freeze, leaving a strange and soon to be covered over path that depicted where he would travel. Science, as this man well knew was simply another man's sorcery. In both cases there were rules and laws as well as a natural order that must be maintained. The runic symbols embossed on his breastplate started to glow. The runes said something strange in Runic قوة, it was odd that the armor would have such a thing but as some would know while most have forgotten 'words have power.'
A low whine would crescendo and as it did so the winding gears within the suit would activate. His knees would bend low, then everything would snap and recoil. The armored man would sail several hundred feet and land with a clamoring bang. He would find himself on anther ridge, his goggles had already assessed the relative stability of his landing site but his calculations were slightly off. He did not account for the brittle environment the chill provided. The earth would groan and creak just before it started to give way. He would extend his hand and from a compartment in his wrist a grappling hook would shoot would and attempt to wrap around a stone. It would not, the stone it crashed into was unstable and would come crashing down. The hook would scrape as it started to descend, then by luck more than calculation the hook would catch a crack, or rather a narrow crevasse just wide enough to cradle the hook. The man would fall, there was no avoiding that but the wire would become taut when it reached a terminal length. The hook would wiggle and slide forward a few inches before it caught something sturdier and the man would swing face first into a wall.
*Crack!*
His armor was dented but he was not dead although he was dazed and hanging precariously a thousand feet above the distant frozen floor. He would look down knowing that it was a close call. It was not his first close call, it was thanks to this technology that he has survived. Well, 'technology' again is a strong word. People often rely wholly on one thing or another - be it their inherent powers as many shinobis often do or on the mechanization they create as many tinkerers often do. Many scoff at the other, considering their efforts heathen but there are exceptions to this rule. This man being one of them. The seals on his arms started to glow, again in runic they would say something else. قوي The arm would come to 'life' one could say and he would wrap his gloved hand around the wire and start to climb.
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Run Time: 1 Hour
A low whine would crescendo and as it did so the winding gears within the suit would activate. His knees would bend low, then everything would snap and recoil. The armored man would sail several hundred feet and land with a clamoring bang. He would find himself on anther ridge, his goggles had already assessed the relative stability of his landing site but his calculations were slightly off. He did not account for the brittle environment the chill provided. The earth would groan and creak just before it started to give way. He would extend his hand and from a compartment in his wrist a grappling hook would shoot would and attempt to wrap around a stone. It would not, the stone it crashed into was unstable and would come crashing down. The hook would scrape as it started to descend, then by luck more than calculation the hook would catch a crack, or rather a narrow crevasse just wide enough to cradle the hook. The man would fall, there was no avoiding that but the wire would become taut when it reached a terminal length. The hook would wiggle and slide forward a few inches before it caught something sturdier and the man would swing face first into a wall.
*Crack!*
His armor was dented but he was not dead although he was dazed and hanging precariously a thousand feet above the distant frozen floor. He would look down knowing that it was a close call. It was not his first close call, it was thanks to this technology that he has survived. Well, 'technology' again is a strong word. People often rely wholly on one thing or another - be it their inherent powers as many shinobis often do or on the mechanization they create as many tinkerers often do. Many scoff at the other, considering their efforts heathen but there are exceptions to this rule. This man being one of them. The seals on his arms started to glow, again in runic they would say something else. قوي The arm would come to 'life' one could say and he would wrap his gloved hand around the wire and start to climb.
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Run Time: 1 Hour