Heart of a Warrior

Chapter 8: The Mistfall Mountains

The biting frost nipped at Alec's face as he trudged on through the blizzard. The crunching of snow beneath his feet was all but overshadowed by the howling winds all around him.

A feeling of utter dread washed over him and for but a moment he completely forgot about the bitter cold. He felt unseen eyes watching his every move but the storm hindered his vision to the point that he could hardly see his own hands in front of him.

He let out a yelp upon running into a tree while trying to find his way. He had to push on. There was no turning back because he would get lost on his way back. "But wait. Am I already lost?" He thought to himself. He turned around but saw no landmarks to guide his way. Not even the tree he had just run into.

"Alec is that you?" The sound of Sir Arden's voice broke through the tempest and filled Alec's heart with joy. "The inn is this way." He called. "Follow my voice."

Alec all but sprinted toward the voice, his salvation near at hand.

Out of thin air, a figure began to materialize in front of him. It's lanky, emaciated frame loomed over him like the gnarled trees of the Cordonian forest. Out of its head grew antlers, that were tinted red as though blood had frozen to them. It's thin, wispy strands of hair blew in the wind like little ghosts attached to its head. The loin cloth it wore was torn and tattered, but still gave the Huntsman the impression that it was once human. It's dark, glowing red eyes burned bright and glowed through the wall of white that separated the two figures.

While it was built like a human to be sure, this thing was anything but. It's skin was thin and taut against its bones and from its fingers protruded long, dagger like claws. He recognized it as a vendigo from the old dwarven legends. But legends only help so much when you come face to face with evil incarnate.

It bared it's teeth in a crooked smile and reach out its hand slowly as if it enjoyed instilling as much fear as possible in its victim before it feasts.

Alec's near frozen hands reached for his axes but found nothing occupying their sheaths. He fell to the ground, scrambling through the ice and snow to escape the grasp of what could only be described as death itself.

It gripped him by the shoulder, it's claws pierced through his leather armor and into his shoulder as it lifted his body in the air. The stench of death that wafted from its breath made him nauseous while the frozen wind numbed his body to the pain. In one fluid motion, it lifted him higher and bit into his neck before all went dark.

...

Alec awoke with a start to what sounded like a woman screaming outside his window. His heart still racing, he looked out of the window to see that the first rays of daylight were peeking over the mountains, but no one was anywhere nearby. These dreams were becoming all too commonplace, but this one was different. The sense that he was being watched, lingered like a migraine.

The old dwarven stories tell of vendigos and how their presence in an area results in nightmares and bad omens. They were created when someone committed an act of cannibalism and was cursed by a god or gods depending on the region, to live forever as a mindless beast that hunts mankind for food. It is said that they retain their consciousness, but can only watch the abominable body it no longer has control over, commit unspeakable acts.

If you want to kill one, things get even more tricky. Fire will do the trick, but you have to decapitate them to be sure.

With all of this in mind, Alec rose from his bed, and dressed himself. Sheathing his axes, he made his way downstairs to find a few of the other Huntsmen downstairs already.

"Did last night's bloodshed keep you up too lad?" Sir Gerald quipped. "No matter how long you do this job, the nights never get better."

Alec somberly sat across from them at the table. "I believe there is a vendigo nearby." He said plainly. "It would explain the fact that each of us had nightmares and its makes sense that one would be awoken after all of the bloodshed last night. That much blood would smell like a feast even from ten miles away.

"I don't think so kid. Even if there was, what could we do? We are too close to Mistfall to waste time." Sir Arden replied.

"Waste time?" Alec shot back. "Anyone that lives within ten miles of this place could be in danger and you think it's a waste of time?"

"Spare me the attitude Alec. We have a job to do. And I would think if anyone wanted to find her it would be you." Sir Arden was looking him dead in the eyes by this point.

"Of course I do! More than any of you. But we can't just let people suffer and die in doing so."

"We have orders Alec. You know we can't stray from that."

"Sir Arden if I may." Sir Gerald interjected. "I think the lad's heart is in the right place. He and I hunted a vampire once in Griffinmarch and he went out of his way to prevent anyone from coming to harm, before he ever paid the monster any mind."

Sir Arden looked back to Alec. "You can't do that kid. Remember what I taught you? It's better to not save a few than to lose everyone."

"But what if-" Alec started to reply.

"That's enough Alec. We need to focus. Isolda taught me a few herbs that help induce sleep and I've made a potion from chamomile, lavender, and rosemary for each of you, that should put you back to sleep and prevent any unpleasant dreams. Take it and report back to me at the ringing of the tenth bell. I need each of well rested for the journey." Sir Arden stood as he finished and passed around the bottles to each man. They each sulked back up to their rooms exhausted and fatigued as the sun was now in full view over the mountains.

...

By the time the gnomish bell clock rang for the tenth hour, they were all already downstairs sharing a meal before they departed.

As they each finished they're meals, they stepped outside into the autumn breeze, and saddled their horses. The innkeeper waved at them and thanked them once again For saving his life as they rode away. After about thirty  minutes of riding the road ahead diverged into two paths. The the signpost in the middle indicated that the path to the left led to Frosthold, while the path to the left led to Ravenstead and Wolfgard.

"Good luck to you men. I'll see you in five days time." Sir Arden said to Alec and Sir Duncan.

"Good luck to you as well sir." Sir Duncan replied. Alec gave them all a nod and a wave as he and Sir Duncan rode off toward the great tower of Frosthold on the horizon.

From there the rest of the group rode off to the northwest. Their path took them along a quiet road through the sparse trees that dotted the northern landscape. In the winter months this road is all but impassable, but even now as snowflakes began to dance around their heads, they knew that they would have to move quickly if they wanted to be out of here before the first snowfall.

The four of them rode onward until they came to the second and final fork in the road. With one last nod to each of their comrades, they went their separate ways in the direction of their final destinations. None of them knew what lied ahead, but if the rest of the journey was any indication, the worst was definitely to come.