Kharveth stared down at the cowering man, studying him for a long moment to discern if he had even landed on the correct planet.
"*Woodcutter, where am I? What is the name of this place? Of this world?*" he signed with his massive, armored hands.
The older man just stared back, his expression a chaotic mix of utter confusion and raw terror, completely incapable of understanding the rapid hand gestures.
"Please don't hurt me! I-I wasn't going to do anything!" the older man pleaded, frantically kicking his boots in the mud to back away.
Kharveth easily understood the words, though he immediately noted the thick, unfamiliar dialect. *Did I land on the right world?* he wondered. He shifted his gaze outward, scanning the endless, freezing expanse of snow and dense gray clouds. It looked absolutely nothing like the base of the mountain he had been blasted into space from.
*Maybe somewhere else on Aetheria?* he hypothesized.
He turned his imposing helmet back toward the older man, who had managed to back himself flush against the muddy crater wall. Kharveth closed the distance in a single, heavy stride and effortlessly grabbed the man by the thick fabric of his winter coat. The woodcutter let out a pathetic yelp.
"Wha-what do you want!? I don't have anything! I'm just trying to get wood for my family!"
Ignoring the frantic begging, Kharveth easily stepped up and out of the steep crater, carrying the man along with him. Once they were back on the solid, freezing permafrost, he dropped the woodcutter surprisingly gently into the deep snow. The older man frantically scrambled to his feet, trembling as he watched the ten-foot-tall Demon Commander slowly crouch down. Reaching out with a massive, gauntleted index finger, Kharveth dragged his heavy metal digit through the fresh powder, carving out large, deliberate letters:
'What is the name of this place and world?'
The older man stared down at the writing. Though he was still terrified beyond belief, the sharp realization that the giant was attempting to communicate rather than kill him allowed his racing heart to slow just a fraction.
"Y-you're in Haldoria," the old man stammered, easing his defensive posture slightly. "And... in Aetheria."
Kharveth processed the geography. *Haldoria? Then the city the invasion began in should be southeast of here,* he calculated internally.
Satisfied, the Demon Commander stood back up to his full, towering height. He looked past the woodcutter, his dark visor locking onto the bottom of the steep snowy incline where the loaded wooden sled had violently slid to a halt. Without a single sound, Kharveth began marching heavily through the snow, heading directly toward it.
The older man watched in brief confusion before a horrifying thought suddenly struck his panicked mind.
"Ple-please! I beg of you! Do not take those logs!" he cried out, actively forcing his shaking legs to propel him forward through the deep drifts. "We—my family needs them to get through this cold! Please!"
Kharveth did not stop. He reached the bottom of the incline and loomed over the heavy wooden sled. Ignoring the frantic woodcutter entirely, he raised a massive, clawed gauntlet and drove his metal fingertips directly into the thick timber.
"What a-are you doing? Please stop!" the older man begged, finally catching up, his chest heaving as he slid to a halt near the Demon Commander.
Kharveth didn't even look at him. With precise, grinding motions, he quickly carved a series of sharp, odd markings into the bark of every single log. The second he finished, he placed a single hand against the front of the sled and shoved. The heavy rig slid smoothly across the snow directly toward the woodcutter, gliding as if the massive logs weighed absolutely nothing at all.
As the sled slid to a halt near the old man's boots, Kharveth crouched back down and dragged his metal index finger through the fresh powder once more.
'They will now weigh less and burn longer.'
The older man stared blankly at the carved letters. Slowly, hesitantly, he reached out and gripped the sled's pulling rope. Bracing himself for the usual back-breaking strain, he gave it a hard yank. He nearly fell flat on his back. The sled glided forward effortlessly, impossibly light.
His eyes widened in pure shock. He looked up at the towering, obsidian-clad behemoth, the raw terror finally giving way to a stunned, profound awe. He gave a small, trembling nod. "Thank y-you."
Kharveth offered a single, slow nod in return. He turned back to the snow and carved one final question.
'Which direction is south?'
The older man read the writing, taking a quick second to look around and orient himself based on the deep trench he had left coming from the forest. "That way was west, so... that'll be south," he said, pointing a shaking, thick-gloved finger toward a bleak expanse of endless white snow.
Kharveth stood up to his full height. Without another gesture, he turned and began marching heavily in that exact direction, his massive boots crushing steadily through the deep drifts.
The older man stood in silence, watching the dark, towering figure slowly disappear into the freezing wasteland. As the distance grew, his lingering panic finally began to recede, leaving his heart to settle back into a normal rhythm. He looked down at the miraculously light sled, his mind struggling to process exactly what had just transpired. He didn't know who or what that giant was, but he was intensely thankful to simply be alive. Not only that, he had gained a fleeting moment of warmth from the crash site and a literal, magical lighter load to carry home.
"Goddess," he muttered under his breath, giving the rope a gentle pull. "No one's gonna believe this happened when I tell them."