Open Chronicles Frozen Peaks

[Haesteinn Skraelingson]

The Spine was no place for anyone, especially these parts. Haesteinn was 5 days north of Belgrath, past even the furthest of the Dwarven watchtowers that dotted to mountains around the city.

He swung his axe in a large arc at the beast bearing down on him. Large, easily twice as tall as him, and covered with thick white fur. He had barely seen it coming at it not been for the bone-rattling roar the beast had let-loose as it jumped him. 'Yetis,' he thought, 'tough beasts, but practically unavoidable up here.'

The yeti reared its head and struck Haesteinn's axe away with its horns, causing Haesteinn to stumble backwards and lose his footing. The fresh snow from the blizzard cushioned his fall, but now the beast stood over him in dominance. Haesteinn was never unprepared, though. He slipped a dirk off his belt and as soon as the Yeti leaped on top of him he drove the blade as deep as he could through its matted fur and into its stomach. The beast roared out in pain, and stepped back. Haesteinn knew it would be enough. Yetis were alpha predators in the mountains and didn't die so easily.

Haesteinn shot back up. The deep snow stopped him from charging the beast then and there, so he had to maintain his ground. The enraged monster dove towards him in a tackle, but Haesteinn swung his axe in from the side, making contact with the beasts head. The force of the beasts fall took the axe right out of his hand and down with it.

Haesteinn sat in the snow, hard of breath and cut up from the beasts claws. He stood up again, slower this time. In no rush. He stepped up to the now dead Yeti and pulled the bloodied axe from its skull. He sawed the beasts horns from its head. They would fetch him a good price in Molthal when he got there.

Why anyone would be up in the Spine during this blizzard he knew not, questioning his own path, as well as anyone else unfortunate enough to be there with the Yetis.

 

[Ledhros Caur]

For all that the mountains were the world's largest, with passes and valleys to match, losing your path was all too easy.

The Silver Key contingent had set out from Ashdell, downhill on the pleasant shore of Crobhear Lake, with fifteen optimistic men. Now they were down to nine, courtesy of a shattering waterfall and the icedrake whose teeth they cartied. Layers of dead men's clothes and bedrolls kept them from freezing.

Togle, one of the dwarven scouts, yelled back over the wind. Ledhros didn't catch the words, but he saw two things worth noticing: a bloody warrior, and an old fort half-buried in snowdrifts.

He and his men headed for the fort. It looked abandoned, but it represented shelter.

Haesteinn Skraelingson

 

[Haesteinn Skraelingson]

Haesteinn trudged through the snow, cold even for a Nord like himself. The blizzard obscured his vision. Over the whipping winds he could make out the faint voice of a man. Ahead of him was an old fort, its dark stone just barely noticeable through the white snow that clouded his vision.

He approached the fort. It was Dwarven by design, that much he knew. How old it was or why it had been abandoned he didn't know. What was clear is that nobody had been home for a while. A snow bank reached all the way up on of the fort's walls. It took Haesteinn a few tries before he managed to climb the mound of fresh snow without falling back down, or worse into it. He straddled the edge of the wall and finally pulled himself up.

In the inner bailey of the fort was practically nothing but snow. The fort had probably been strategically abandoned. He just hoped the less friendly inhabitants of the Spine hadn't occupied this place for a similar reason to him. From on top of the wall he could see the group of people he had heard now approaching the fort. Haesteinn felt a little skeptical of peoples intentions out here in the mountains, yet he was glad he wasn't alone up here.

"Ho, Travelers! It appears we've stumbled upon the same lodging! I will attempt to open the doors from the inside so you poor souls can rest in warmth!" He yelled over the wind, unsure if his message reached Ledhros Caur. He began towards the nearest turret and ascended the stairs, hoping to find a way to open the large, steel-barred gates to the fort.

 

[Ledhros Caur]

Haesteinn Skraelingson

"...lers!...stumble...odging! ...tempt to ope...ors from...you ...rest!"

Despite the wind stealing four out of five syllables, the call sounded encouraging. Or rather, he didn't appear to be warning them away, and that was all the encouragement the frozen mercenary crew needed. They hustled through knee-high drifts and came up to the steel doors. Ledhros and a few others could probably make it over the wall the same way their new friend had gone, but Togle and the other dwarven sellswords (sell-axes, technically) were too short and too heavy for that route.

The Silver Key mercenaries, all nine of them, huddled close in a circle around each other, within arm's length of the door. In theory they could wait a while, but Ledhros had his private doubts about how long some of them could stay on their feet.

 

[Haesteinn Skraelingson]

Haesteinn reached the gate house shortly thereafter. Finding the mechanism wasn't the hard part, activating it was. Haesteinn grasped the freezing steel lever, which with one flick would open the gates. The lever wouldn't budge even with Haesteinn's entire body put into it.

Haesteinn had a solution, but it would take a few minutes. A few minutes he didn't know if the travelers had. He drew the last of his knives, which he had been losing progressively for the last week: a small iron shiv. As Haesteinn began muttering a spell under his breath for a few minutes, the shiv grew red hot, and he touched the blade to the cold metal of the lever. They hissed as they made contact, but within seconds the blade disintegrated and the lever now glowed with the same heat.

A simple fire enchantment, but it would loosen the lever for only a few seconds since the shiv he traded had been so small. With the sizzling lever ready to go, Haesteinn kicked the lever with all his might, and it swung into the opposite position. With a grind and a resistant grumble, the icy chains began to wind up and lift the gate. As the gate rose, the lever's magical heat faded from existence.

Haesteinn started to descend the stairs in hopes of greeting Ledhros Caur and his travelers. They would be significantly safer in here than out there...

 

[Ledhros Caur]

"He's letting us freeze so he can loot us or worse," Togle growled. The dwarven scout had just taken a turn at the edge of the huddle, so he could be forgiven for his pessimism. But then again, he could be right. The Silver Key contingent might be low on supplies for nine men, but they carried more than enough for one. Ledhros grimaced and said nothing; his lips were numb.

The gate squealed upward, all too slow but inexorable: something elephant-heavy was at the other end of the chain, wherever that might be. The dwarves had built well. Ledhros and his men slid under the rising gate and into the gatehouse.

The place was bitter cold still, but almost entirely out of the wind. Wisps of ash stained little snowdrifts around long-dead braziers without fuel.

"Scatter," he said. "Get fuel, find shelter. Let's light up and bundle up." Haesteinn Skraelingson tromped down the gatehouse stairs as the mercenaries split. Ledhros could already hear eager axes ripping up old furniture.

"You saved lives today, friend."

 

[Haesteinn Skraelingson]

"Saving people's lives is my job, traveler. I won't be giving up today." Haesteinn put his hand out for Ledhros Caur to shake. "The weather is shit even for my line of work. Let's get inside."

 

[Ledhros Caur]

Haesteinn Skraelingson

Hobnailed boots and axes reduced chairs and shelves to firewood. In short order, the Silver Key contingent gathered back together just inside the abandoned fort. Some shovel-work let them close a snow-jammed door. Once the fire ignited, on the fireplace hearth of what had been a dining hall, the immediate area warmed up fairly quick. The men stretched out on long old wooden tables and benches. They removed their boots and deployed their bedrolls on something other than the ground for the first time in days. They didn't have much in the way of food, but one thing at a time.

Ledhros huddled on a bench, hands in his armpits. "I'm Ledhros Caur," he said. "We're Silver Key mercenaries. That's Togle, Bant, Grishat..." He went through the list of introductions.