Chapter 1

  The air was brittle and cold. If one wasn't careful to secure every button of their coat, the icy fingers of death would surely find their way inside the warm flesh underneath. If the cold didn't kill you, there were other such things the wild and unkept south held that would. Storms so thick of ice and snow that one couldn't find their hand in front of them. If they were lucky, they would freeze to death as a nice false feeling of warmth enveloped them. If they weren't, they would survive, but with half their toes and fingers poisoned by blackness of death the south gave you. If you even lost two fingers, one could only hope to have enough strength to pull back a bow to hunt and survive. Only the foolish or the strong lived in these cursed mountains, and only the strong survived.

  The ragtag group of adventurers had been traveling for the good part of the day in the snow capped mountains and valleys. The party consisted of four people in a loose linear formation. The road they were following was progressively more unkempt as they trudged up the mountain path. The large man leading the group shivered as a gust of wind unfurled his fur cloak on top of his head. “How many more miles until we reach Toft?” The man grunted at the smaller man in chainmail behind him.

  The tomboyish girl peeked up from where she was staring at the ground. Her ears poked out of her woolen hat revealing her elvish ancestry. She worriedly looked at the sky above her which used to be a clear day, now blocked by green and blackish clouds pressing down on them.

  The sorceress noticed this glance and took a look at the clouds above them as well. Heaven seemed to press down on them with a bloated sickness about to unleash its torrent of vomit. “Guys, we should really hurry, the storm looks like it could start any second now and it looks pretty bad.”

  “I know, I know”, the barbarian replied, but never the less picked up the pace.

  With a timid voice, the elf scout tapped on the shoulder of the sorceress in front of her: “The old gods of the south… Could the legends be true? Do they really have so much power as to command the storms to their bidding?”

  “Haha, the voluptuous women cooed. Even if the ridiculous stories were true, why would a god be so intent on killing a few lowley adventures as ourselves?”

  “Quite witch the armoured man spat. Do not tempt the Gods, besides, I sense great evil from that amulet you carry.”

  The sorceress again laughed, but clutched the cold steel of the amulet wrapped around her neck.

  “Damn that amulet! It will be the end of us all, you hear!” The steel clad man spoke. An unnatural laugh escaped his lips, “Ha! Don’t you think it was suspicious that the king of Hadard would pay so much to deliver just a simple amulet across these treacherous mountains and in the storm season as well!?”

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  “Quiet man!” the barbarian shouted. “That last thing we need is to second guess ourselves, we need to get to toft. We can rest, get some warm food in our belly, and be done with this cursed business. Now, since you have the map, how are is it to Toft?”

  “Well, actually, it should be a few more miles over this hill and we should be able to see it.” The armoured man gloomily replied.

  “Damn it’s cold…I can’t wait to finish with this courier business and get back to some real adventuring where the weather doesn’t kill you first!” The large man in front said as the wind unfurled with hood once again to expose his long blonde hair.

  The wind started blowing like an unnatural howl through the valley, picking up snow with its hands and flinging it around in random patterns.

  Now, in a mild panic, the party surged up the hill as fast as they could.

  With every step, the wind surged down the hills to pelt them in their exposed faces. The snow seemed to be like quicksand slowing them down and sapped their precious strength with every step. Soon, the path they were so diligently following started to fade as the sleet and ice torrent blurred their eyesight. The blonde muscled man crouched and studied the land beneath him. “I-I-I can’t see that path anymore.. He stuttered.

  “What the hell do you mean you can’t see that path!?” yelled the now panicking armoured man. “It should be right in front of you!”

  “You, shut it.” Grumbled that barbarian.

  “I knew we were dead the first step we took out of Hadard!”

  “Wait, I think I saw some caves around here before the storm blew over. I we can find them, we can get out of this damned snow.”

  “Why didn’t you say so!” The man shouted in a now urgent hysteria.

  “Witch! Can you use some sort of magic to find us shelter out of this storm?”

  The sorceress was stumbling in the snow when she replied: “I would have used something by now if I could! All my magic is offensive!”

  “Cures the Gods, I am not dying out here to a measly snowstorm, everyone follow me!” Roared the Barbarian as he clutched his cloak around him tighter.

  The party, now chilled to their bones, followed their temporary leader through the wailings and screechings of the wind and ice.

  The party was now exhausted and about to resign to their fate when the chain mailed man pointed and screeched: “Oh, thank the Gods, look over there!” Where the direction his finger was pointing was a dark opening in the side of the hill, seeming to beckon them in. The four of them quickly realized what he was pointing to, and without a word, quickly approached the cave opening.

  With a sigh, the four companions let down the various gear they were holding. Backpacks were dropped and weapons were propped against the wall.

  “Witch, get us a fire started immediately!”

  “To hell with you strong boy, I am already on it!” replied the sorceress as she dug in her knapsack on the ground. After a few moments of searching, she revealed an odd shaped lamp. She placed the lamp in the middle of the group and chanted a few words of an unknown language. A moment later, the lamp lit up with a vibrant flame. Although the lamp was not enough to warm the adventures, it was more than enough to provide a good light source and a sense of comfort. Before the group could get comfortable, a smell rotten eggs drifted into the noistrals of the barbarian from somewhere inside of the cave.

  “Everyone pick up your weapons. Now!” Screamed the man.

  Before anyone had a chance to speak up, a giant green ogre burst from the depths of the cave, roaring a challenge and lifting its club.