[Vfw-times] MK - Winter assault part 1

[COkane8116 at aol.com]

   Here is part 1!  Enjoy!

*****

December CR717 

 It was early evening in the Midlands. The winter sun had set early as it 
always did, leaving the land clothed in darkness but not in peace. The storm 
that came with the sunset came in fiercely like an invading army. It raged as 
far north as Politzen and as far south as Giftum bringing cold and snow 
wherever it went. 

At the storms heart lay Metamor. The valley was at peace but the weather 
wasn't. Here the wind blew harder and the snow fell faster then anywhere else 
covering everything with a thick blanket of white. At Metamor keep most 
people stayed indoors grateful for the ancient fortresses thick, warm walls. 
The only people out in such weather were the guards and sentries who paced 
it's walls and protected it's entrances. Even these poor souls weren't 
subjected to the cold for long as the shifts had been shortened to half the 
normal time. 

 To the north of the great keep sat the village of Glen Avery. It's streets 
were quickly being buried under layers of snow. The town itself was already 
buried. It's shops and homes dug into the sides of hills or down into the 
earth. All that appeared above ground were the doors and widows poking 
through the earth and snow shedding light out into the darkness. Here and 
there in the darkness small pillars of gray smoke rose upward running against 
the downward current of the snow spoke of chimneys that gave warmth to the 
houses below. 

 On the edge of the village a small road made of newly laid cobblestones 
lead off the main path to town. The stones were of a dark gray color with 
spidery veins of black and white shot through them. The road itself wound 
part way up a large hill passing a row of windows bright with the lights and 
sounds of a party before arriving at a magnificent wooden door. This door was 
recessed back into the base of the hill and surrounded by stone of the same 
color as the cobblestones. The door itself was made a dark tiger striped wood 
from a tree that grew only on the Giantdowns. Gossip among the villagers was 
that it had be made from a tree felled by an ogre and brought south as 
plunder from a lutin stronghold. 

 The snow was coming down heavy now turning the world outside into a swirl 
of white fog that deadened all sound and reduced people to mere shadows. It 
covered everything with a thick blanket of white that resisted all efforts to 
remove and muffling all noise of footsteps. 

 In spite of the wind the snow brought a sense of calm and all being right 
with the world. But to the person standing at the window peace and calm was 
the last thing on his mind. The snow and the bitter cold brought back many 
memories some bad, some good. 

 Down stairs the owners of the manor were celebrating the first holiday in 
their new home in grand style. It seemed that everyone in the valley had been 
invited for the rooms and halls were filled with people, food and music. 

 Upstairs things were quiet, all the rooms darkened except for one. In this 
a lamp filled the room with a soft golden light. The glow illuminated a room 
whose walls were covered with murals of unicorns, griffins, wolves bears and 
all manner of creatures in fanciful poses. In one corner a small pile of 
children's blocks lay scattered. Nearby a rocking horse still silent guardian 
next a large, open sided model of a castle. Little figures of people, 
soldiers and animals had been carefully placed throughout by playful, little 
hands. On a nearby wall rested a small bookshelf. It's top no higher then an 
adults waist. Resting haphazardly on the shelves were or a score of books all 
filled with fairy tales of knights, dragons and fair damsels to be rescued. 
Other books were filled with pretty pictures of happy people and animals in 
imaginary lands. But the blocks, toys and books lay unused, momentarily 
forgotten. 

 The sounds of the party was reduced to a faint, background murmur that the 
watcher at the window easily ignored. More audible was the sounds of children 
chattering and playing behind him. He turned around and the room grew 
suddenly silent and still. In front of him was a room full of children, some 
human, some furry. All were the sons and daughters of fellow keepers, some 
dear friends. They all sat waiting patiently for the story they knew was 
coming. No matter what story he told, it would exciting. 

 He felt a small tug on his sleeve and looking down found a little girl 
dressed in an expensive dress and who's black hair was done in long braids. 

 "What story are you going to tell us?" the girl asked eagerly. Her eyes 
filled with innocent excitement. 

 "We want a great story!" another child exclaimed. His body covered with the 
short spotted fur of some southern animal. "One with big battles and heroes!" 

 "Yeah!" a different girl added. "One with lots of romance too." 

 Soon the whole group was shouting out their own wants and ideas for the 
perfect tale. 

The adult held up his hand to hush the children and calm was restored. He 
knew the perfect story. He moved to a tall, stuffed chair that rested next a 
small fire place whose burning logs gave warmth to the room. Sitting softly 
in the chair he looked again at the snow swirling out the window. A profound 
silence filled the room. 

 Then he pointed out the window to a world turned white by the fierce storm. 
When he spoke it was in a voice as soft as a summer breeze but none of the 
children had any problem hearing him. "It was ten years ago. Ten years ago 
tonight on a night just like this one with a terrible storm raging." 


  End part 1 

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