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1: A Time To Breath.

Bearan (Bear) Redman knelt by the flowing waters of the stream to drink and considered the reflection he saw in a tiny bay, protected from the current by a fallen tree branch.

The labour of the farm had lent him a broad aspect over the years and the features that stared back at him were strong and defined. Short cropped dark hair framed a full, but ruggedly handsome face. Skin weathered by daily exposure to the elements marked him as a man of the soil, an impression confirmed by the roughly cut cloth of the simple peasant clothing on his back.

Deftly switching hands with his hoe, he reached down to cup some of the crisp cold water, to quench a thirst built by the planting accomplished this morning. Starting before sunrise, his was a life that might be considered hard by many. But it was honest labour and Bear was a man content with his lot.

Splashing his face and neck, he felt refreshed and watched the ripples from his hands invasion, distort his features in the reflection. For a moment after they settled, he breathed in sharply.

Gone was the fullness of his face. Replaced by the gaunt features of a man to whom regular meals were a distant dream of a time long ago. The shock of dark hair, now marked by a streak of white, stretching to his left temple where a livid scar ran down to his cheek. Gone, the happiness in the smile, replaced by the haunted eyes of a man used to seeing death, in all of the terrible guises which that grimmest of reapers wears as he toys with the destiny of the mortal world. Gone, the simple garb and workman's hoe, replaced by boiled leather armour and a Mace, which like his soul, was now forever stained with the blood of those who had fallen before him.

It was a warrior who stood now, his thirst quenched, and with a shake of his head he girded himself to continue his journey and glanced across the ice covered path, taking stock of his waiting companions.

The three stood just off the path, waiting for their unspoken leader to indicate that he was ready to continue. They had paused to ready themselves before entering Glacern, which stood just over the next wintered rise. Ulora and Gyorn stood together, their bows and quivers slung loosely across their backs. They spoke together in low tones, their breath coming in clouds in the frigid air. Discussing the encounters that had brought them to this point and formulating tactics derived from the valuable knowledge that the journey had brought them.

Slightly apart stood the Dwarf Gloern, his hand resting lightly on the heft of his axe, his eyes restlessly taking in the surrounding undergrowth as though at any moment he expected the entire group to be engulfed by some unknown menace emerging without warning from the surrounding trees. Uncomfortable with any time spent idle, Gloern ached to be on the move again.

Two Mules stood beyond the assembled warriors, contentedly grazing on what little grass they could find unburied amongst the falling snow.

2: Claws In The Ice.

"Everybody ready?" asked Bear. The party nodded as a man and without further discussion they started off once more, each one eager for their own reasons to finish this leg of their journey, the mules falling in automatically behind.

Bear knew that they were all mentally and physically drained and he was counting on an overnight stay in Glacern to let the party catch their breath. Fatigue had made heavy both their feet and their hearts and was a ruthless assassin, who came unbidden and killed remorselessly in the blink of an eye. Aside from this, Gyorn and Gloern both had reports to make to the Overseer of Glacern and the archer in particular was in need of rest, following an incident in a cave of ice yesterday, which had left him badly bruised.

The group had decided to take a few minutes out of their journey, to explore the ice cave, which Ulora's keen eyes had picked out at the end of a small track off the main path. The track, partly obscured by trees might well have gone unnoticed by the others and now everyone wondered what awaited them within.

Tying the Mules to trees just outside the mouth of the cave, the party had ventured in through the cold entrance. Exchanging the kiss of sunlight on their faces, for the frozen darkness of the unknown. The cave entrance had opened into a long ice walled tunnel. While not cavernous, the roof was none the less out of reach of an ordinary man and the cold ground was littered with boulders. The daylight from outside pierced the gloom and lent the party visibility for a short distance ahead, at the end of which the shadows hurried to reclaim what was theirs and what light could still be seen from the cave mouth, had done little to illuminate the space around them.

As their eyes had become attuned to the dimness however, the group discovered that the blackness surrounding them was far from complete. In fact the very walls themselves seemed to unaccountably emanate a soft glow, which though far from the blessing of sunlight, was none the less enough to save the torches that would otherwise have had to be lit to continue. Eerily, as they had stepped across the threshold of the cave, it had seemed as though the sounds of the outside world had been left behind. As though some invisible sentinel barred the way, refusing to admit any distraction to the solitude within. The absence of sound was broken only occasionally by the scuttling sounds of whatever small creatures had made this place their home, and now and again the sound of ice falling from the high ceiling, coming to rest unseen somewhere in the darkness ahead.

Bear had moved ahead cautiously, his shield foremost and his enchanted mace held ready. At his side in similar stance, Gloern adjusted his hold on the hide wrapped grip of his axe. Ulora and Gyorn followed a few paces behind the leading pair. Each had an arrow notched and held a gentle tension on their bow.

The Party had arrived at a wide "T" junction, when Gyorn had made the discovery that it was not only small creatures, which had made their home in this cave of Ice. As Bear and Gloern began moving to the left, the shadows to the right had parted briefly to reveal a large moving bulk. Seen only from the corner of his eye, Gyorn had spun and reflex took over before thought could bring it into check. The loosed arrow hurtled toward its target.

With a roar more of anger than of pain, the Grizzly Furok hurled itself from the shadows with only one thought in mind. To tear to shreds the creature now standing before it. Gyorn moved backward, but stumbled on the ice covered, uneven floor and before he had been able to recover his stance, the Furok had been upon him in a furious drive of teeth and claws.

The party and their attacker had made a grizzly procession as they progressed slowly back up the tunnel toward the mouth of the cave. The two archers stumbling backward, trying in vain to open up enough space to draw an arrow. The Furok matching them stride for stride, fixated on his purpose of rending Gyorn limb from limb and Gloern and Bear raining blows onto the Furoks hide, which the beast appeared to virtually ignore, so intent was he on his quarry.

The battle had ended in a bloody trilogy of blows. With a roar of triumph the Furok made contact with Gyorns Shoulder, with a mighty sweep of it's paw which sent him crashing, bruised to the ground. But its roar at that same moment turned to a howl of pain as the mighty axe of Gloern bit deeply into its neck. Then as the creature reared, Ulora loosed an arrow, which buried itself deep in its chest, and found its heart. With a gurgle, the Furok had slumped to the floor, pining the struggling Gyorn as if in a vain attempt to trap it's quarry, with its last breath.

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