Looming Shadows In the Frost

[AstriaS 3835]

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Looming Shadows In the Frost

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In the far north of Almaris, snow and ice crack beneath the weight of heavy boots. Trudging southward from the frozen wastes, a party of three marched its way through the mists of the ice-covered mountains in search of civilization. And find it they did. Coming first upon the lands of the Fennic Remnants, the party made camp for a time, far from the settlement’s walls. From a distance, they observed the comings and goings of the frozen city, appearing as shadows on the mountain crests, imposed against the pale, clear blue of the northern sky.

 

But, their interest in this place, they decided, was best saved for another time. The party’s leader next bade them to travel west. Again, they slogged across the continent’s frigid north, until this time they reached the lands of Man- the Kingdom of Norland. They passed the village of Elysium and skirted the shores of Lake Eada, past a village occupied by tribals and then, finally, reached the precipitous mountainside wall of the Norlandic capital. And while the party stared up at the oversized palace above, their ears caught a most familiar sound: the din of battle.

 

In the area surrounding what appeared to be a lumber mill, they came upon an ongoing battle. The tribal Skanarri and the forces of Norland had locked blades, it seemed. The party leader, then, took point, and watched the battle unfold from the top of a nearby ridge. Backlit by the flaming beacons atop the walls of Varhelm, the imposing figure observed the battle in silence- a shadow amidst the white, fresh-fallen snow. As blood was spilled, bones brokens and limbs severed, the scouts did no more than this, in spite of their longing for battle. The time was not right. Not yet.

 

As the tribals fled the battle and the Norlanders returned to their city in varying states of injury, the party leader huffed. A pyrrhic victory for the Kingdom. They watched as the Skanarri departed with the captive they had managed to obtain and then finally broke gaze from the carnage. The leader turned to address the other scouts, and a feminine voice pierced the frozen air.

 

“These ones seem to fancy themselves warriors,” She observed in an icy tone.

 

One of the companions was quick to respond, “Do you think our Lord will be pleased with this sport?” He queried, voice betraying a hint of concern.

 

“They are weak. Even if the Lord does not enjoy whatever fight they put up, he will enjoy breaking them.” The woman stated resolutely, arms folded across her armored chest. “Allow the victors to tend to their wounds. We will follow the tribals. I intend to leave a message for them.”

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