To Far Away Times

[Brian]

Liandral nods.  "I understand," he says after a moment.

You walk on, into the deepening darkness.  It's twilight when you decided to stop and rest, still not able to see the Storm-riders or the Dreadmarch yet.

[Dracos]

"We want to get moving early.  So if there isn't anything you guys want to talk about, I'm just going to eat and get to sleep."

Dracos sat down, pulling out the rations they'd gotten and starting dinner.

Dracos

[Brian]

Yum.  Dry rations.

It's a sad, sad change after the comfortable beds you've left behind, but your cloaks do keep you warm.  Liandral ops to watch over the camp for the night, and wakes you up seconds before sundown.

You're rested, but the sight of the sun, nearly setting, puts you on edge.  You think that this land has strange things going on between it and the sun, and whatever's going on here, the loss of light will be a very bad thing.

"We should move," Liandral says somewhat anxiously.  "I do not think it will be wise to remain here much longer."

[Dracos]

Dracos nodded, getting up, smacking himself a few times to get to full wakefulness, and getting the recaltriant rez up.

"Don't think, just move."


Dracos took a moment, glancing around and checking the map before continuing along their path, asking in a low voice to Liandril.  "What is it with the sun here?  Why does it stay up so long and why do I feel a slight chill in my bones at it setting."

Dracos

[Brian]

"That's beyond my means to know," the elf says with a shrug.  "But darkness brings ill tidings.  We should hurry."

With that, you set out in the fading light.  Just as the sun is setting, the final hints of the fiery orb passing beyond the horizon, you see a glimmer of reflecting sunlight ahead of you.  It looks like something metal.

[Dracos]

Dracos blinks, focusing his eyes on where he saw the reflected light and heading towards it for a bit, trying to see what it was.

Dracos

[Brian]

As you get closer, you see exactly what it is; a whole bunch of guys in armor just like yours jogging through the snow.  They're headed approximately towards you.

[Dracos]

Dracos quickly eyes them over, trying to estimate their hostility from their stances and facial expressions.

Dracos

[Brian]

They look pretty hostile, at a glance.  Generally, a living tide of men with an average height of six plus feet, armed, armored, and bearing down on you does not cause one to think, "Cuddly".  For what it's worth, though, none of them seem angry.

[Dracos]

Dracos makes a guess and takes a risk, raising his arm in greetings, "Hail Storm-Riders."

Dracos

[Brian]

The entire group draws to a halt -- this is not an army, at a glance.  This is about twenty well-armed men, used to traversing this environment easily.  Behind them, you can see the bulk of the actual army, probably a good half a kilometer behind.  There, thousands more men are running, raising a cloud of powdered snow, like dust in a cold, white desert.

"Hail!" one of the men says, separating himself from the pack, and standing in front of the others.  He raises one hand in a fist, and smacks it into his chest, holding it over his heart.  "Sir Bloom?" he adds a moment later, squinting.

This particular warrior's armor is darker than your own, and you think that's significant of something, but you're not sure what.  His hair is actually short, but very, very, very curly, resulting in a nest of little coils that poke out from beneath his helm.

[Dracos]

Dracos gestured to the others behind him to follow as he headed closer towards the warriors.  "Aye."

Dracos

[Brian]

"What are you doing here?" he asks, uncertainly.  "Is something at the keep amiss?"

[Dracos]

"An treacherous wind blows.  Someone has been moving to sap the strength from our forces, to cut off those coming.  I decided to ascertain that nothing had befallen the storm-riders on their way here."

Dracos

[Brian]

The main body of the army is approaching, but slowing to a halt at the sight of the stopped advance party.  The guy you were talking to looks over his shoulder, and frowns.  "We should discuss, then," he says, turning back and nodding.  "Lord Markham will be interested in what you have to say, I've no doubt.  This way."

He strides through the ranks of Storm-riders.  There are several thousand men here, now that the army is close enough to be seen properly.