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Red_Snow |
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Title
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First posted
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Turn 4 |
Unto The Breech
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13/9/99
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---Backpost: Turn 3--- Urkan and the Elf changed grip on the icy cloak. The Mercenary caught Urkan's eye, and nodded. Walking over to where the Halfling was carefully examining their tracks, already half-obscured by the falling snow. Slapping the demi-human on the back, he stabbed his thumb in the general direction of the fort. The Outrider nodded up at him and the two started to retrace the way back to the safety and warmth of the town. The Initiate rested the sword on his shoulder, swore under his breath, and followed on, trailed by the Student, Labourer, and Soldier. Visibility was down to almost five paces by now and the snow was still failing heavier and heavier. The air temperature dropped towards -10° then beyond. The wind shrieked along the pass, fanning the flames and at the same time sculpting the drifting snow into a mausoleum for the destroyed wagon. The travellers were glad to be leaving. The Halfling stopped abruptly, the Mercenary almost tripping over him in the darkness. The others, following, stumbled to a halt. Urkan elbowed the Mercenary out of the way. "What is it?" He grunted. The Halfling pointed. "There's over a dozen different footprints here, heading towards the town," he looked up at Urkan who stared down, brows knotted. "I think we're…behind…the…Goblins…" ---Turn 4--- "Goblins?" said the Elf, his voice soft and unwavering. He grunted
under the "All the footprints are pretty much the same. It could be an army, or just one Gobbo with a funny way of walking." Urkan smiled again. "There’s one way of telling." "Yeah," added the Mercenary. "Keep stumbling through the snow, and count how many Goblins kill us." "You’re such a cheerful soul." "And you’re a suicidal one, if you’re thinking what I’m thinking…" "You’re thinking it too?" Urkan straightened. "Then it must be a good idea." "That’s not what I was trying…" Urkan punched the Mercenary in the chest with his free hand. "Shut up. We can’t stay here, and I’m not dragging Mund, here, the long way round. Not in this weather." The Mercenary shut up. "Good. As you’re so reluctant, you’re Tail-End Charlie. You," he waved one hand in the Soldier’s vague direction, "are on point, with our scout, there." The Halfling nodded and started to move forward. The Soldier looked less sure. "With all this damn wind and low visibility, I can't make any promises." Urkan made a dismissive gesture with one hand.
"No one’s asking you for guarantees, boy. Get up there." The Soldier nodded and moved off. As he passed, he paused beside the guard-captain. Leaning closer, the Soldier tried to shout above the wind but Urkan gave him a helpful push without replying. The Soldier trotted off after the Halfling. The Labourer jogged up to the group, catching the end of the conversation as it was shouted above the wind. Looking around the group quickly, he cast a wary glance down at the multitude of fading footprints in the snow in front of them. Dropping to one knee, he unslung his backpack and loaded the small sacks of oats into the pack, stuffing the sling bag in on top. Pulling the backpack back onto his shoulders, he reached down and fumbled his small axe from its habitual place on his belt. Thumbing the edge, he turned to face Urkan, and said loudly: "Well, at least we can move faster now that we know where they were headed. Do you want me to stay at the front with the others, or should I carry the driver?" Urkan shook his head. "You’re up front, with those two. If you meet any trouble, shout and we’ll come running." The Labourer nodded and jogged off to catch up with the Halfling, grinning wryly at him. "You spot 'em," he said, "and I'll hold them off ‘til the others can escape." The Labourer brandished his axe and swung it briefly to keep his hands warm. The Outrider nodded cautiously before returning his tired eyes to the ground. He tightened his grip around his sword. The Party moved off. The Halfling kept both eyes on the ground as he walked, trying to count the number of different feet on his shivering fingers. From the way he kept cursing and starting again, the others could guess he wasn’t having much luck. The Soldier and the Labourer walked alongside him, their eyes darting from the path ahead to alongside, and out ahead again. Visibility was still alarmingly low as heavy snows and darkness combined to frustrate them. Some three or four paces behind them came Urkan and the Elf, half carrying, half dragging the unconscious Mund by his cloak. The Student stumbled along behind them, his shoulders shaking violently with cold, falling often as his legs gave way. Behind him came the Mercenary. The Mercenary spun as he took every third step, scanning behind them all. The Initiate shuffled slowly along side. His robes were filmed in hoar frost where his the heat of the fire had melted the snow, only for it to refreeze as they headed back towards Tents. His fingers were numb too, and every so often he stood on the long habit skirt and fell. Sometimes the Mercenary was close enough to catch him before he sprawled face-first in the snow. Often he wasn’t, and the boy was soon wet through. The Halfling raised one hand and his two companions stopped still. Urkan and the Elf, their heads bent against the wind collided with them before they stopped. The Student, staggering slowly behind, stopped, and crumpled to the floor as his muscles gave way. The Initiate fell, but the Mercenary caught him and held him upright. The Halfling turned. "It’s hard to see exactly what’s happened here - the snow’s still falling, after all, but it looks like there was a fight or something just up ahead." ---End Turn 4--- |
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