Frostbound

Miles

"Wouldn't be that bad", his ass.

Miles remembered his first introduction to the city, and everyone kept saying the Winter, 'Wouldn't be that bad.' All of them were liars.

It was that bad. He couldn't see how anyone could admit otherwise, yet multiple people had. The giant furs helped, but it still wasn't enough to ward away the cold for long.

Being out in it for as long as he was didn't help matters, but there was nothing he could do to help it. It was what his job required and he'd already blown through his savings that he brought with him.

Scraping together what he could from the few Dungeon runs he signed up for had held him afloat, but that wasn't sustainable anymore. The wait between runs was longer than he could live off of what he made from one.

If Miles was stronger, and could go deeper than only the sixth floor, he wouldn't have that issue, but he wasn't.

Especially alone.

There was no one he trusted enough to go in with him. He was trying to get over his trust issues but it was hard after remembering where he came from.

People backstabbed and betrayed for the mere thought of getting something out of it. Let alone if he pulled something rare out of a Dungeon drop.

No, he'd continue alone, even if he would get further in a team.

His new job wasn't related to his Profession which didn't net him any essence or levels for it, but it paid enough to keep him fed and clothed. His wardrobe saw a massive overhaul since his first day in the city.