A Sound Of Thunder

[Treshure 5817]

 

 

 

~~~~

 

It was a pleasure to burn.

The two men accompanying in this trek had knew nothing else. These men from the high seas pleasured in burning ships, burning men, burning wealth and knowledge and anything that could satisfy the flame. Here they were, in the far reach of the North, comforting the embers of the hearth with more lumber. The fire comforted them and warmed them to the bone in the chill of dusk, where wild winds whipped at their cloaks.

 

“What are you here for?” said one of the men, gazing across the fire to a grizzled warrior.

The larger man looked to back to him, grunting out his response, “Silver, fame, women. You don’t find any of that out here. That farfolk man is crazy, sending us this far North.”

 

The younger man, quite a boy, shrugged lightly. Glancing warily around, he muttered out his response, “Strange occurrences, he said. That's why we’re here. We’d be heroes if we came back with some wildling corpses! Then you’d get your fill. See? Easy as that!”

“That’s the issue. These woods are old and untamed, and I don’t want to stick around to wait for whatever lies in here. We find something, a smoldering fire, and report back. Come on, let's go.”

 

The boy remained seated, packing up their belongings and preparing for the journey ahead. The older ranger went along the woods, tracing for any details. Beyond him stood proudly an ancient structure, devoid of any life. The snow had freshly laid around it, coating the enigma with an other-worldly beauty.

“Granger! Get over here, I’ve found something!”

The younger man, Granger, hobbled along to meet with his supervisor. “Sir Rodney? What is this place?”

Rodney grunted. “Nothing I would ever find here. Come on now, light your torch.” They entered the structure together. It was once an elegant piece, with light piercing through porcelain panes in days not laced with sinister intent. Now, the ancient stone was fatigued and worn. The spiraling staircase that breached the top was decaying and breaking. The books, littered in the numerously faded bookcases, were coated in a fine layer of dust.

The wind warned.

Granger and Rodney traced their hands over the archaic pillars that held up the library. Strange ruins were inscripted through them in languages they could not behold. The books were laced in gold and ivory, tantalizing the men with knowledge they had not obtained. The air carried a delicate scent of myrrh, emanating from the books. Rodney snorted and grumbled, “Eastern heresy.”

 

The wind howled and groaned. The very stones of the library creaked and shuddered like brittle wood. Granger looked warily once more, glancing to Rodney. “Something is wrong, m’lord.” Rodney’s gaze was fixed upon the books. He waved a dismissive hand to Granger, “Go on now, calm the wind down.” Granger mumbled, taking a step outside into the now colder air. Second by second, Granger felt the pressure drop. He felt the urgency lingering in the air, something he was missing…

The food! He had left the food! Granger rushed back to the campsite, searching frantically for the flames. All he saw was the smouldering remains of the fire.

The hearth had gone out.

 

A deafening silence overtook the forest. Cold numbness traveled through his veins as dread overtook his being. Turning back to the North, the only North, he saw them coming. A solid wall of white rushed towards Granger, Rodney, and the library. The silent tempest approached them with sickening speeds.

Granger at first croaked his warning, “Rodney!” His voice unfroze and his feet met their pace again, running towards the library. “Rodney, get down, damn you, get down!” Granger found the entrance and rushed inside. Sir Rodney sat there, reaching out towards the books. Sweat poured from his brow in concentration. As his hands touched the books, the ice storm hit.

 

It whipped them back with a fury not seen before. The ice filled the room, siphoning the men of their strength and energy. The cold and numbness was prevalent in the storm’s fury. The ice blizzard rushed through the land with the force of a thousand oceans’ tempests.

The books began to glisten, the books began to burn.

The covers of the books gracefully lifted up as a consuming and deathly fire consumed the pages. They fluttered like a bird’s wings, dancing in the blazing fireflies. Rodney’s hand shot out towards the books. He cried out for what knowledge that was lost, and his tears froze on his cheek. The conundrum drained the books, and the knowledge was lost to the wind. Granger and Rodney laid as two bodies, lost to the storm. Before their last had approached, Granger saw something in the storm, approaching them. It was graceful, beautiful, silent as a whisper. He saw it raise it’s hand, he saw it look at him, and he saw it speak.

There was a sound of thunder.

[IrishPerson 693]

Thomas prepares the men of Siegrad to search for the two men.

[Birdnerdy 1539]

Thomas prepares the men of Siegrad to search for the two men.

Ecthallion barks an order to the men of the Second Company. The motley band of soldiers, rangers, and woodsmen scour the woods, turning over every leaf in search of the missing explorers. 

[lawnmowerman 3040]

Samuel of Hadvar would hear of this in a local tavern, slipping his barbute helm back upon his cranium, making his way on to his trustworthy steed, tugging briskly on the reins as he rides for Leuvaarden, going to report the news to Count Guy de Bar.

[Rudi 1747]

Dimitri watches the blizzard from Heidis' hut, he mutters lower " A perfect time to hunt some frost witches.." He turns around and sees Heide still sleeping. Silently he packs his bag and wraps himself in his comfy leather armor. Without a word, he leaves the hut, after he placed his blanket gently over Heidi,

[Publius 4098]

Moved to the Archive. It shall be sorted into the appropriate category shortly.