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Red_Snow |
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Turn |
Title
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First posted
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Turn 9 |
At Last!
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28/10/99
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---Back-post: Turn 8--- "People, either we move forward or we die of exposure." Urkan started. "What!?" He glanced right at the Elf sharing his load. The Elf pushed the lip of his voluminous hood back a touch until the Guardsman could make out his pale face in the shadow. "I don't plan on dying" he reiterated. Urkan nodded. "They should have been back by now. We’d best assume the worst." Raising his voice and turning his head, he let the wind carry his voice back to the other three. "We’re pushing up. Storm, you’re on point. You two back there, are you okay to follow?" As he turned, Mund’s head lolled. Swearing, Urkan reached down and pressed his fingers to the soft flesh at the base of the injured man’s jaw. He smiled narrowly at the Elf. "He’s cold. Do you still feel up to carrying this back to the village?" The Initiate grinned despite the cold. "Well, if we're going to freeze to death together, I supposed we may as well know each other's names. I'm called Darmon Wildford, Dar to my friends. I had hoped to serve Sigmar longer, and better in my life, but it seems I'm going to chatter my way to an early grave, not even having much of a chance to complete my first mission for him. Somehow, that even seems to make sense. Still, with as much fun as the gods seem to have at my expense, you'd think they'd want to keep me around longer, if only for comic relief." He stumbled in the snow as they move closer to the group in front, catching himself before pitching forward again. The Student struggled for composure. "Xavier. Xavier v-v-von Hirst. Reading Languages and History at Alt-t-tdorf University." He pulled the blanket tighter around his shoulders. "I'd shake your hand if it wasn't so d-d-damn c-c-cold out here!" Darmon snorted. "We'd probably just snap off each other's fingers, anyway. I don't think I can feel my toes anymore. I'm inclined to just find a nice comfy snow bank and settle down for a nap." He yawned widely and snapped his jaw shut with an audible clack when Storm hit him. "There’s warm beds back at the inn. Shift, before I have to make you!" --Turn 9--- Straightening, resolute, the party moved forward. The snow fell as heavily as ever snow had fallen while evilly chilling winds swirled the blizzard into clouds of impenetrable white. Urkan and the silent Elf led, carrying the Miner’s sad corpse between them. Darmon and Xavier, shivering violently followed close behind, encouraged on their way by the never-tiring Mercenary, Storm. The lead pair stopped suddenly. The student, his eyes half shut against the freezing air, staggered into Elf’s back. The Elf was un-swayed, but the lesser man rebounded to fall against Storm, who caught him before he could drop to the snow. "What is it?" The mercenary called. "More tracks?" Urkan couldn’t hear him over the roar of the wind. His right hand tightened on the dead man’s cloak, and with the other he pointed towards the dark shape moving slowly towards them. Drawing his dagger from its sheath, he and the Elf lowered the body to the floor. The party drew weapons and lined up against the oncoming foe. The soldier stepped out of the darkness. Urkan breathed a long, relieved sigh, and straightened, sheathing the dagger. "What took you so long?" He asked, only half-angry. "We found something," the man replied. "A crater maybe two paces across, and a corpse. We thought you’d like a look." He stopped, shifted his pack, and wiped snow out of his collar. "It’s still hot, steaming in fact." "The corpse?" Storm looked confused. "No, the crater. It was still glowing red when we got there, but it’s cooling fast." Urkan nodded. "Damn. Last thing we need is a Mage up here." The Elf gave him a funny look. "Goblins are bad enough, but we’ve fought them before. Swords and arrows we know, spells and daemons… well…" He stopped. "Let’s get back home, right?" He stepped forward, over Mund’s body. The snow was already settling and only a dark outline remained. The Elf followed him, ignoring the remains of the injured man he’d carried uncomplainingly all the while. ---Skip--- The Halfling stood beside the Labourer, facing the shallow scoop crater. The crater was full – the handspan’s depth of meltwater still steaming despite the constant snow. A low, five-foot long, snow-covered mound pointed away from the crater like the tail of a ‘Q’, the furthest end pointing away to the left. The soldier clapped one hand to the labourer’s shoulder. The labourer jumped, startled, and turned. "Rodger! You scared the life out of me!" He glanced over Rodger’s shoulder at the others, and saw where Urkan’s eyes were pointing. "I wouldn’t bother. That’s one very dead Goblin. Big bits of it are missing, and what’s left looks like it got cooked by whatever made this" – he indicated the crater. "From the way he’s lying, I’d say he was trying to leave in a hurry at the time." Urkan gave him a funny look. "Are you sure you’re a…" He broke off. "We’d best get going." ---Skip--- The thick snow underfoot masked their footfalls while the darkness and ubiquitous blizzard masked the jingling of their harness and weapons. As they trudged forward, following the Guard Captain towards his hometown, the party heard a low moaning. The moaning became a howling, the howling became a screaming, chittering, wailing, gurgling cacophony of noise. The Student turned to the Initiate beside him and coughed politely. The gale dropped to a whisper for a moment and the party could hear every word. "Just the wind, do you think?" The Initiate just looked at him, too tired to reply. ---End Turn--- |
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