23rd of Winter, 511 AV
'Cold, cold, cold.' Was all that Zygaud could think as he trudged through the frigid streets of Avanthal, his gargantuan shape barely covered by the massive black cloak he kept draped over himself. Zygaud had come to Avanthal just shortly before the Winter began, a big mistake. He had been traveling for what seemed like ages, and was surprised that he had managed to survive this long. If it weren't for his thick fur and cloak, he'd likely have died due to loss of heat long ago. 'At least it's nice to look at' he thought as he took in all the new sights, such a large and populated place was very new to him. In the 28 years since he had begun his travels, he had mostly kept away from settlements any larger than tiny villages.
Turning a corner, he took note of a rather comfortable looking spot on the side of a rather plain-looking building. Taking a seat, he folded his sturdy traveling staff across his lap and took in a deep breath of the chilly Avanthal air. Watching the inhabitants of the city pass by interested him, they each seemed to be in such a hurry, as though every second were their last. "I guess you've got to be quick when you don't live as long as we do... poor things" he said to himself in the Common tongue, his voice low and rumbling. He shrugged mentally, leaning against the wall behind him to rest and clear his mind.