The Storms in the Shadow (Part 1)

A small face loomed from the darkness of a gloomy day. A very gruesome battle had been fought that day. The glitter of the white snowy fields petrified the being's eyes. He had a dark-red suit of armor on and his sword gleamed in the light of the sun. The hilt of the sword was gold with sparkling jewels upon it. The being had been unconscious through the battle after being hit on the helmet with a maul. His helmet was dented and pieces of its metal were on the ground beside him. He had a bloody nose and a horribly massive headache. He sat up and rubbed his head with his right hand. He looked at his sword, which was still sheathed which told him that he went unconscious at the beginning of the battle. He thought, "Maybe when the arrows were fired one hit my helm, or maybe I was frightened, I don't know." He stood up, crouching over. He took off his mail and kicked it on the ground. 'No good armor!' he shouted as he looked at a bloody gash in his stomach. He struggled to yell but it seemed that he could only whisper. It began to drizzle. Finally he got out, 'Is anyone alive out there'? There was no reply at all. He saw the snowy mountains that enclosed the small battlefield within a circle. At that moment he remember that the battle had taken place in the middle of the ice land of Xer'goth. At that moment he also remembered that no caravans or carts had taken the road to Xer'goth in over sixty years. He wondered with a bloody nose, a gash in his stomach and a horrible headache how he was going to get back to the training camp?

The being sighed at his options, though he was beat in the head with a maul, he was dumb - yet. He knew what direction things were in; he had only few choices though. His choices were: Go south towards the Lands of the Dark-Elves; Go north, towards the memorial of the Midnight Song, chances are that Orcs patrol that area, or he could go down the road that hasn't been taken. He thought only to go down the road, for maybe it would lead to the Towns of the Maze. He shivered in the cold of the snow. He saw his captain who had fallen in battle. He seemed to have the best armor of the soldiers. The being took the captain's armor and put it on. He walked among the dead bodies and saw the dusty road loom and whirl up into the mountains. By now his head was throbbing. He could think of nothing else but the pain. Small drops of blood fell from his head to his cheek. As he stopped and took out a map to see which way on the road he should go, everything became blurry. He began to doze off and suddenly he collapsed on the cold, hard snow. He dreamt that he was in the battle and that he dodged the maul that sprang at him. He dreamt he was invincible. As soon as he woke up, it was dusk. He found himself on the back of a cart. The cart seemed to go upward. He opened his eyes and saw the mountains towering before him. His head hurt even worse than it did before. He was lying on top of sacks of grain and wheat. Suddenly the cart came to a stop. He laid his head down and closed his eyes. When he opened them again, he saw a man towering over him. He was a pudgy man and he had no hair. 'Err, hello sir!' shouted the man. 'Me name is Jonathan,' he added. The being laid in silence.