Screaming into his mind, the wail of the blizzard put Tor in a trance for millennia. The stone of the mountain flowing within him, frozen in time past his own bloodline, a man wakes buried in snow. The shocking cold threw him into a panic, and he took off into the blurry white.
Unbeknownst to this man, his soul belonged to a reaper of the underworld, and the memories of his eternity torturing innocent souls rest inside the heart of the dragon he once attempted to slay.
Pushing forward he finds himself upon the mouth of a small cave, hearing many thuds yuh yuh. Moving toward the thuds he begins to hear voices, probably some people tryna get it on before they die at the hands of whatever's thudding. Toren takes a long toke of his cursed pipe, Goreng, quietly listening in upon the conversation until nightfall. Kinda creepy, he thinks of himself.
While hearing every, single, word of the conversation, Tor didn't comprehend much, because he was pretty dumb. He had to know why they were going on though, and decided to come upon them.
To his shock, there was a man in a suit seducing a rather intense lizard, and Tor felt his hand habitually reach for his axe. Feeling the power in his mighty beard, he began to approach them, when he heard the word Asmodeus. Instant fury wracked his head, and he glared deeply into the man's soul, the moment the man noticed him.