Frigid's Forgeborn Edge    

Horizon moved to his workstation, gathering the materials he needed to begin crafting the team's upgraded equipment.

His eyes briefly flickered to Frigid, the frost giant who stood silently off to the side, arms crossed, his icy form as still as stone.

While the others would soon receive powerful new gear, Frigid remained unchanged—bare and untouched by the forge's creations.

A pang of guilt hit Horizon. The others would be stronger, but Frigid . . . well, he'd still be 'naked.'

"Frigid, do you want me to craft something for you?" Horizon asked, his voice cutting through the cold air. "Like a sword maybe?"

Frigid blinked and scratched his frosted head, pondering the question. "A sword? Nah, that wouldn't be much use to me. I'm too slow to swing it. By the time I raised the blade, the enemy would've already sliced me up."