The first part of this story can be read here.
The trek back to the Rohirrim camp near the Isen river, turned into a strange one. From clear skies and no wind, the weather suddenly transformed into a heavy winter storm, unlike anything I have seen. Initially a clear view in all directions, the visibility is reduced to only a few meters, before everything turns into a white wall. I’m conflicted if I should find shelter or to press on. To continue can lead to several paths of mishaps, from getting lost to falling into a ravine or stumble upon wild predators… or other threats. The other option to create a shelter against the weather seems to be the best opinion, but there is something telling me it is more dangerous, my instincts are nudging me to push through the storm and to the Rohirrim camp.
I have learned to trust my instincts and react upon them, but still I want to create a shelter against the storm, because it has turned into a deadly one with its lack of visibility and freezing temperatures that will drop lower when the night arrives. I’m standing there, weighing the logical reason to find a shelter or to trust my instincts and find my way to the camp… as fast as possible… why?
Standing there, getting covered in snow, I slowly turn around...
Standing there, getting covered in snow, I slowly turn around and notice my footsteps in the snow, who are fading faster than before in the snowstorm and I realize somebody is following me. They must have kept their distance when the weather was clear, but now, they need to stay closer if they want to follow the tracks, before the snow removes the trail I create. I stare in the direction from where I came, but the visibility is poor and I realize I will not spot anybody before they are on top of me. Fight or flee Duncadda? I have no idea how many that follow me, but they cannot have any good intentions, It seems I have managed to get either a dunlending hunting or war party after me, which is more or less the same. No use to speculate how I did not notice that earlier, but focus on a solution… flee or fight?
I’m still fit and not exhausted in any way, which helps me against this storm. If I get into a fight and survive it, I might not be able to survive the storm… if I survive the fight that is. In this storm they can easily surround me and attack me from several directions without any warning other than my pure instincts. Without any more thinking I start walking again, towards the direction I think the camp is, but I hasten my speed. I need to keep my distance from those who follow me and pray to Bema that I do not stumble into a ravine or fall down a mountain… the last thought makes me smile, remembering a time when I was fighting orcs on the Eastwall.
Stumbling on, in the white storm, I check that my sword is not frozen in its scabbard, in case things turn into a fight. I also pull out a black root from one of my pockets and start chewing on it. Even if danger is close both from the weather and those who follow me, I need nourishment to keep going, to have enough strength for whatever I need to face. There is no room for panic, and I trust that my training and experience will get me through this.
The storm is howling around me, almost deafening… but behind me, I hear somebody is shouting. And they are much closer than I thought. They are probably closing fast on me, measuring how much of my tracks are covered in snow and how fresh my trail is. I realize they are closing in for the kill and I start running. I'm not sure if that is a smart move, but I need to get some distance, some time to plan my next move.
Running more or less blind, trying first to run straight ahead, before changing direction, I notice the snow is getting deeper, making it more difficult to run fast and more exhausting, so I need to slow down. Behind me the shouting of several voices can be heard and to my dismay they are getting closer. They are most likely running in my tracks, meaning I do the heavy work for them, stomping down the snow. Keeping up as much speed as I can muster in the deep snow, I draw my sword preparing myself for what seems unavoidable now.
Glancing over my shoulder, I do not notice the cleft suddenly appearing in front of me and I fall… rolling uncontrolled around and around, losing the grip on my sword in the progress and my head slams into something hard, making the white world around me go dark… in the distance I hear a wicked laugher, before the darkness takes me.
to be continued...
Copyrights
The art is made of a combination of my own photos, screenshots from the game and modified by me.
The art of the warrior in one of the picture is found on the following wallpaper site:
