by Michael S. Webster
Celene Border near the Kron Hills
Snowflowers 28, 5038 OC (Coldeven 28, 576
CY)
The blizzard struck without warning. Fierce icy-cold winds pierced layers of clothing as if they were not there. Swirling snow dropped visibility to the point where riders could barely see the heads of their mounts. Dismounting, they huddled together so they could hear each other over the raging wind.
“We need to find shelter!” shouted Qucalion. “No telling how long this storm will last.”
“This wind will spoil my aim,” grumbled Arty’ll.
“Your aim spoils your aim,” quipped L’ree.
Ridorr interrupted any retort Arty’ll might have made. “Right before the visibility dropped to nil, I saw a structure; maybe a tower just to the west, where the Kron Hills start.”
Qucalion turned to the twins. “Can you find this tower?”
L’ree chuckled. “Easy Peasy!” She turned around and raised an arm and pointed. “This way is…”
Arty’ll tapped his sister on the shoulder and jabbed his finger repeatedly in the opposite direction.
“…is East, which makes West this way.” L’ree turned and pointed west.
Arty’ll pulled a rope coil from his saddlebags. “We’ll use this to keep us together. Loop it into a belt or whatever,” instructed the suddenly lucid elf. “If you have a problem tug on the rope.”
Taking the end of the rope, Tyroc noticed something on the rope and peered closer at it. “Is this blood?” asked the cleric.
“Do you really want to know?” Arty’ll’s grin made the cleric wish he hadn’t asked.
Tyroc looked at the rope and back again at Arty’ll. “No. No I do not.” He shuddered, either from the frigid wind or Arty’ll’s smile. Tyroc couldn’t tell.
A shrill giggle from L’ree caused the rest of the party to turn and look at her.
“What?” she asked with an innocent look on her face.
Arty’ll started laughing, which broke L’ree’s composure, and she laughed with him.
They bowed their heads against the wind, and slowly trudged through the blowing snow. Fortunately, snow couldn’t accumulate in the high winds. Waves of drifting snow surged around their feet.
“Are we there yet?” asked Arty’ll.
“No,” replied L’ree.
“Are we there yet?”
“No”
“Are we there yet?”
“No!” shouted the rest of the party.
“Actually,” corrected L’ree. “We are here.”
The party was grateful for the slight respite from the storm when they stepped into the wind shadow the tower offered. They gathered closer and were surprised to see they arrived at a door.
A pair of steps led up to the door and around it tiles that were part of a floor. Forty-five degrees to either side of the door were portions of a wall jutting out from the tower itself.
“It looks like it was part of a larger structure,” suggested Ridorr.
Qucalion returned to the door. “Let’s knock and hope someone…” Qucalion cut off his suggestion as Arty’ll opened the door and walked in as if it was his residence. “That is certainly one option.”
“We need to bring the horses in as well,” advised Ridorr. “They could perish in the storm before it lets up.”
Qucalion nodded his agreement and led his horse through the door, followed by the others. As they were bringing their steeds out of the blizzard, Qucalion mentioned to Ridorr, “I’ve been in this area many times. I don’t remember a tower ever being here.”
“Nor I. This tower itself is old, but the parts of walls attached to it, they look newer.” Ridorr shrugged. “However it got here, I’m glad it was here, or we’d still be stuck in that blizzard. Probably lost and freezing to death.”
The chamber they entered was cold, but not as cold as outside, nor did it have the wind blowing about. The chamber was furnished with chairs, a sofa, and lounges arrayed around a central fireplace.
“Hello?” Qucalion called out loudly, then paused to listen. He called out again, “Hello? Is anyone here?”
“Hello. We’re all here.”
Everyone turned to glare at Arty’ll. L’ree smacked him on the back of the head. “Get a fire going, bugbear brains.”
Arty’ll placed wood into the fireplace and attempted to light it on fire. After the third strike on his flint and steel, the kindling took light and slowly but steadily grew into a warm and friendly fire.
With the door shut, the others set about taking care of the horses. They removed the saddles and fitted feedbags. The horses huddled together for warmth.
“We might have a mess to clean up in the morning,” Tyroc said to Qucalion.
“Better to clean up some manure from five horses than clean up five dead horses.”
“I don’t mind,” shrugged the cleric. “Growing up, I would spend summers with my brother and sister at our grandparents’ ranch. They worked us hard. It was good for us, I suppose.”
Qucalion nodded his assent and joined the rest around the fire, feeling its warmth seeping into his half-frozen body. “We might as well get some rest, too.” Qucalion pointed to the twins in a pile, softly snoring.
“I’ll take the first watch,” Ridorr volunteered. Qucalion and Tyroc agreed wearily and settled in a couple lounges and joined the twins in slumber.
Ridorr walked around the room examining everything but touching nothing. Bookshelves lined the outer wall, crammed with tomes of every size along with other decorations.
A vast selection of the books had titles on their spines, but they were unreadable by the duelist. Some were written in languages he had never seen. Those he could read seemed very innocuous. Titles such as The Wind through the Leaves: The Poetry of the Suel, Flora and Fauna of the Vale, and A Concise History of Nyrond—ironically, one of the largest tomes.
Likewise, the other decorations were mundane. Vases, small busts, and other such items were simple decorations. The portraits on the wall were of people Ridorr did not recognize, nor were there tags to identify the subjects. The largest portrait was of a man and woman; husband and wife, holding each other and smiling warmly. The smiles didn’t reach their eyes, which appeared too real.
“Seems like a nice couple. I wonder wh…” Ridorr stopped in mid-thought as the face of the man in the portrait seemed to push out from the back of the painting. The eyes bulging and the mouth open in a silent scream.
To Be Continued…
Dramatis Personae:
Arty'll Bhrygaid
Sylvan Elven
Ranger/?
Arty'll Bhrygaid created
by Michael S. Webster
L’ree Bhrygaid
Sylvan Elven
Ranger/?
L’ree Bhrygaid created by
Mark F. Anderson
Qucalion of Celene
Grey Elven
Fighter/Magic-User
Qucalion of Celene
created by Michael S. Webster
Ridorr Fenbalar of Gomel
Half-Elven Duelist –
Fencer
Ridorr Fenbalar of Gomel
created by Fredrick J. Rourk
Tyroc of Tilac
Grey Elven Cleric of
Corellon Larethian
Tyroc of Tilac created by
Michael S. Webster
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