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Frost Gale
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Post by apocalyptian on Mar 21, 2024 10:05:04 GMT -5
In the wake of spring, when most other regions would see the end of winter, there is a region whose snow will not cave so easily to the demands of the sun. Within the Ice Fields of Frost Gale, a blizzard was brewing. Starting small its flakes would gently glide to the ground, their eventual, problematic nature being revealed to the uninitiated once this snowfall and increasingly vision-blotting sight began hailing from above.
Huddled inside of her tent, a bulky woman was trying to start a fire with the remnants of her last, with a lack of sticks or logs to form what she considered a proper bonfire. With a flick of her fingers, all five began displaying a dancing flame at her fingertips which she sunk into what remained in the way of proper kindling. The fuel reacted, a new light being born amidst a storm that would see it gone should the cover overhead not be present.
Taking a moment to bask in the warmth of the meager fire, Gn'Ush would take one of the few sticks she left for her own use on the side to skewer a dead, frozen fish and present it overtop the flame so she may have a proper meal today.
She considered heading for the Cold Woods. Larger game was there, but now that she no longer has the support of her people she can only imagine what hunting an elk on her own would look like. Her stomach grumbled, angered at the absence of the nutrition she's been rationing for the last few days. She glanced at the fish. In a space such as this when the elements pin you down, it isn't unlikely to consider consuming meat raw when you become desperate.
She shakes the notion from herself. She needn't wait for this to properly cook, she is a fire tamer after all!
As though motioning the limbs of a marionette through strings on her fingers, the flames began to animate through her gestures, licking at the sides of the frozen fish and aiding in its gutted form to defrost faster. She could smell it in this tent: the scent of the melting and cooking carp a welcomed addition to her lonely sanctum.
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Post by Ak'ka the Bonegrinder on Mar 21, 2024 13:29:22 GMT -5
There was no place harsher than the icy bowels of frostbitten hell.
Even in the early days of spring, the ice fields gave no room for life to grow. Densely packed snow made a barrier that prevented flowers or even grass - blizzards rained hell hard enough to erode the mountains. Harsh conditions raised harsh folks, and hardly any as cold as the ten foot hulking Orc of a woman stomping through the ice fields, slithering serpent on her heels. She made no attempt at bein’ stealthy - when you were as big as her, there was really no point - yet her gaze was that of a predator’s, just waiting on bated breath for prey to come along.
Not that she’d find much. A storm was brewing; she could taste it in the air, feel it on her skin. She knew snow intimately, since the avalanche. Like there was some part of her that would never be able to escape the cold.
The Bonegrinder stopped - stared at the darkening sky, eyes narrowed, tusks bared in a grimace.
She was makin’ good time to the World’s Crown, but if this storm got any worse, she might have to stop.
But unlike stone, the snow wouldn’t be able to wear her down.
You can sleep when you’re dead.
And just like stone, Ak’ka was stubborn.
She pulled her cloak tighter around herself and continued on the path. It was then she caught the scent of somethin’… good. Familiar. Like roasts around the clan campfire, as nostalgic as the roaring laughter of a tribe sharing a meal after a hard-fought battle.
Ak’ka shoved the memories away and continued on. Oh, the pain ached, a dull throb in her chest like a blow from a hammer. But more importantly, the smell of cooking food meant someone was here to cook it. And that she wasn’t alone in this frozen purgatory.
Ak’ka turned to flash a weary look at Keiga at her heels; friend, or foe?
The Bonegrinder was not the kind of person to get nervous. If the stranger turned out to be a threat, then she’d just fight like she would any battle. And if it was a friend… the break from monotony was welcome. No way to know which this encounter would be without plunging headfirst into it. Ak’ka reached out her hand, allowin’ Keiga to curl around her shoulders; and she stomped closer to the campgrounds…
And found a single tent. Like a port in the storm.
The smell of burning hung stronger in the air.
Ak’ka started movin’ forward but instinct told her to stop. Not ‘cus of her own fear, but because she’d been in this situation enough times to know her horrifying size and stature made folks liable to mistake her for a monster. So she cupped her hands around her mouth and raised her voice over the roar of the wind and the tremor of Avasha’s frozen tears.
“Oi, anyone here? I come in peace. Don’t wanna scare ya, just makin’ my way through the storm.”
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Post by apocalyptian on Mar 21, 2024 16:56:35 GMT -5
Her concentration was broken in that moment, the flames dying back down to their original rousing. She didn't expect someone other than herself to manifest in this blizzard, let alone find her. She rose from her seated position, the wet furs on the ground beginning to soak up some of the water coming from the melting ice and snow beneath. She began to open the fur flap of her tent, exiting to look out into the partially opaque blizzard.
She saw the large frame of the stranger, her imposing figure but nonviolent demeanor countering the prior descriptor. Gn'Ush tried looking behind them past the storm and couldn't. Her face was stoic and as cold as the frost assisting in anchoring her tent to the ground.
''If you want a refuge, feel free to come in. This tent can serve us both until the storm goes.''
She held the flap of the tent open just enough for a gale to pour in, the wind nearly extinguishing her minute fire in the process as she fights to keep the structure steady and ready to be shut for the stranger. Despite how much muscle was on her bones, these few days without much food have weakened her to barely being able to hold the opening closed.
Her stomach beckoned like the grunt of a beast's call, reminding Gn'Ush of her situation.
It was a miracle she found that fish frozen by a glacial body of water, never mind that she managed to dislodge it and carry it back. It was the key to lasting long enough to make it to the fabled 'Pale City', if it even existed in the direction she believed it did.
Her past raked its claws at her back along with the deluge of ice and snow falling sideways into her as she recalled why she left: her early shame catching up to her and her need to prove her worth too much to contain within the likeness of her people. And now she was offering to share her tent with someone who very well may be lying. Nonetheless, she will see if they are worth their weight in words.
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Post by Ak'ka the Bonegrinder on Mar 22, 2024 9:27:06 GMT -5
In the couple seconds of silence that stretched after her call with no echo, Ak’ka had to wonder if she’d come too late. If all that remained of the tent’s occupant was a frozen corpse. But then she heard the shuffling, and the curling of a tent flap as the stranger bared her teeth. Ak’ka shoved her hands in the inner pockets of her owlbear cloak and sized the stranger up.
Thick muscular frame, covered in furs and lily-white bone - the hollowed eyes of the skull strapped to her chest seemed to follow Ak’ka, even through the veil of snow. All too easy to imagine ivory stained in blood.
The Bonegrinder knew a warrior when she saw one.
There was no fear in the stranger’s eyes as Ak’ka approached. No flinching away from the orc woman’s demeanor. Where others would perceive a threat in the coiled muscle in her shoulders and the set of her jaw, the woman only granted her refuge.
Ak’ka shifted her weight to her other foot and took in her surroundings. Or, tried to. It was hard to see much as the weather’s fury etched itself into the earth around them. She could keep going, but it didn’t hurt to rest her bones for a night. And ‘round these parts, it was rare to find a traveler with the stubbornness to conquer the storm.
The sound of a stomach’s angry growl shook her out of her thoughts.
“I don’t know if I’ll fit.” She admitted with a shrug. “But if you’re willin’ to share camp, I’ve got food that’ll make it worth yer while.” No good deed went unreturned. No kindness ignored. The Bonegrinder paid her debts where they were due.
Takin’ that as silent invitation, Ak’ka shrugged Keiga off her shoulders. “Keep watch.” The massive serpent would be their eyes. He obeyed, curling around the tent’s sides with a soft hiss. It was as much for her own sake as the stranger’s. So long as she had her own two hands she wasn’t disarmed; but it served a show of good faith.
And with that, Ak’ka let herself into the lion’s den.
The warmth of the fire hit her first - not the comfort of its heat but the ghost of its touch on her battered skin. The warrior would never be able to shrug away the frostbitten chill that had seeped into her very being. Despite the curling flame she shivered as she shrugged off her pack.
She extended the woman a hand.
Rough, calloused, split, stained with blood that would never come clean as it was; the Bonegrinder’s handshake was as firm as the World’s Crown. Where words failed, her handshake held the sanctity of her vow.
“I don’t have much cus I ain’t had the chance to hunt yet.” She nodded towards her pack. “But I’ve still got some elk in there. Yours, if you want it.” Ak’ka spoke, down to to business - as blunt as her own fists.
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