The snow clung to Armada like ants to a drop of honey. The devouring winds tore at him, barely kept at bay by his apparel. His body shivered, the earth ponies drive kept barely on by his natural instincts.
Hoofprint after hoofprint was beat into the snow as he headed forward, soon covered up by the massive amount of snow falling from the sky. Armada coughed, causing his whole body to shudder. Yet he pressed on, determined not to fail just moments after he started.
His legs weakened, and he fell into the cold blanket beneath him momentarily. There was a good foot of snow to cushion him, and he would soon be covered up. Armada pushed against the ground, forcing himself back to his hooves. The cold was out to steal his life, and he mustn’t let it win.
With a deep breath, he forced himself on forward. Pausing for a brief moment to check his compass to make sure he was still heading north, something hard smashing into his face. His cry of pain was lost to the freezing winds.
Blinking stars from his eyes, he looked down to see the indent in the snow where the object had landed. Digging through the snow, he pulled up what appeared to be a very cold and very soggy journal.
He peered down at it, observing the black book which had been very weather damaged. Careful putting it into his saddlebag where it could come to no more harm, the earth pony set off further into the blizzard, ever northwards.
As he trudged along through the snow, Armada’s mind began to wander. He thought of his nice, clean, warm apartment back in Manehattan. He had such a lovely life their... why he had ever agreed to do this absurd mission was beyond his comprehension.
“Of course I was bound to regret this nearly immediately...” he snarked out loud, his words once again being kidnapped by the wind. The chills that had plagued him ever since the beginning of his journey worsened, and yet he pushed on. North was the only hint he had about his destination. He had not been described the appearance of the building he was supposed to be finding, only that it was somewhere north, and that it contained a very important book.
Armada wondered silently to himself if he was close to the Crystal Empire. Immediately, the idea of abandoning this mission, and running as quickly as he could to the fabled city that had just been recently resurrected rooted in his mind. He dismissed this therory for two reasons: One, he had no idea where it was in relation to him; and two, his employer would be very displeased with him.
Armada was not an earth pony that would break his word. He wasn’t the most honest equine around, but after arising to a challenge, he’d be damned if he didn’t complete it. He was more stubborn than honest, he supposed.
Pausing a moment, he looked around at his white surroundings. Vague shadows danced in the distant north-east, and what he assumed to be north-east. His sense of direction was terrible, so his most valuable companion on this adventure would be his compass. Everywhere else was a never ending show of white.
He took of his saddlebag, and extracted the radio. He popped in two batteries, and used his muzzle to press the button on the front. The panel buzzed to life, the green frequency flatlining.
“No signal...” he groaned. This radio would be the only chance he would ever get to talk to his employer. With a sigh, he put the radio back in his saddlebag, fastened the whole thing up, and slugged it onto his back. A thin coat of snow had covered him from his lack of moving, and he shook it off. Trotting as fast as he could to get the blood moving again, he headed off towards the shadows.
The winds died down a bit as he approached them, and as it turned out, they were pine trees. Tall, at least a hundred feet, and covered in frost and snow. Several icicles of varying sizes hung from the branches, breaking off now and then from the wind.
The earth pony adventurer gazed at the trees, wondering how they could still grow in this weather. He knew that the Frozen North was not always this bad, and that it was the middle of winter... but the shrieking winds, those that threatened to suck the life force out of any living thing that dared to be foolish or crazy enough to brave it...
Armada moved on, passing through the trees. It was a small grove, and offered little shelter from the snows. Icicles impaled the snow every few feet, daggers of frozen water to warn any from passing through.
As he wandered through the trees, he spared another glance at his compass. He had been traveling in a western direction. Sighed, and correcting his path, he exited the grove, and went on northwards.
The grove had been somewhat peaceful. It still had been dark as night, and cold as ever, but it was somewhat less windy. The shrieking, destructive winds had not dared to spread their tendrils on through the trees. Armada wished that he could have kept on his westward direction, but he had a destination to reach.
He plunged on forward into the white expanse, the ground gradually sloping upward as he went.