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Everything hurts, everything is cold, and everything feels squished together.
I wake up with a groan and blink at the head of golden blonde hair in my face and the feeling of breathing hitting me.
Right.
Fuck.
I look around and see nothing but snow around the princess and I, entombing us in a coffin of whiteness.
I try to move my arm and let out a sigh of relief to see that I do actually have some wiggle room and wasn't pinned in place. Knowing that if I don't get out of here I'm fated to die a slow and cold death I begin to twist my arm to extricate itself from its current position. Once that was done, I began reaching for my belt and the axe that I had holstered there all while quietly praying that the Avalanche hadn't shaken it loose.
I don't need to tell you that it would be an incredibly shit way to go; stuck here as her and I slowly suffocate after basically damning everyone I loved to die for her sake.
By the grace of my many times great-grandparents, when I reach down to grab at it I feel the handle of my axe, still there despite having been thrown around by an metric fuck ton of snow.
It takes another two minutes but I manage to wiggle something approaching a proper grip and then pull my weapon free with a jerking motion. Afterwards I awkwardly begin hacking away with a level of desperation only possible with imminent death hanging over your head, a feeling mind you, that I hate knowing with any degree of familiarity.
Two near death experiences within sixteen hours of each other was two times too many!
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Snow sucks.
But I don't have the time or inclination to talk about it.
I looked over at my companion, bundled in as many furs as I could haul out from the wreckage of the camp, and sigh. It had been a lot of work to dig with her impeding my movement, and dragging her out of her impromptu tomb wasn't much easier, but I had managed it somehow. Thankfully I didn't find any serious injuries when I did a pat down afterwards, I didn't have the supplies or knowledge to confidently treat anything worse than a small cut or bruise after all. From what anyone who didn't know any better could see she was simply asleep in a bundle of furs, her cheeks and the tip of her nose slowly returning to a healthy flush from the pale white they had originally been when I woke up.
I sigh and look out the shelter's entrance, watching the flurries of snow slowly bury whatever still stuck out of the snow in the crash site.
The avalanche dragged us a fair way from the site of the camp, slamming up against the opposite side of the valley with the force of an angry god. It was a minor miracle that the worst either of us suffered after being thrown around like that were some nasty bruises and soreness, and an even bigger miracle that I had managed to dig the two of us out of the snow and set up something approaching a shelter before we died of exposure.
My work wouldn't win any awards, and probably shamed my Ancestors, but it sufficed.
I decided to just use the hole I had crawled out of with the Princess; I had widened the entire space until I could walk and keep a fire inside comfortably. Think of a shoddy mix of snow cave, tent and igloo, expanding the area by digging out blocks of hard, frozen snow that I had carved out with my axe then used to anchor an angled tarp overhead. Inside, me and Princess Alrika were huddled around a fire I had made from the broken shards of the main tent pole I had lashed us to, and on either side were two pieces of a broken feasting table I had wedged into the walls of the shelter for us to sleep and sit on while staying off the snow and cold air and ground.
I realized that I would probably have to carry her, or fashion a sled once we got moving.
Staying put would be a death sentence for the both of us; no food that wasn't buried under tons of snow, and any game likely spooked off by the literal fucking avalanche, the only other survivor was afflicted by what I could only hope was just a long lasting sleep tonic in her drink and nothing more insidious, and, I must emphasize, it was the World's Edge Mountains. The region where half the predators were smart enough to pick over avalanche sites for easy meals because they had gotten
used to Rangers weaponizing them against invading armies.
So we, read I, had to get moving, hopefully find a friendly ranger patrol to get us back to Karaz-a-Karak, all while avoiding whatever was out there that may want to turn us into a snack all while doing my best to protect an unconscious royal.
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I let out a huff as the logs fell off my shoulders and onto the floor of the shelter, stretching for a minute or two before kneeling and beginning to process them into more manageable pieces.
Much as I want to just get moving, the truth is that neither me or the princess will last long without a plan or any supplies; we needed food, a way for me to carry the still unconscious Royal around, and some form of shelter.
While the avalanche site was a wash in terms of food, because I wasn't going to go around eating anything from here for what I figure were perfectly understandable reasons, I thankfully knew of a Ranger cache a few days' march from here we could make use of to tide us over. It would be hard going for it, and we may end up chewing bark and drinking snow but it would be doable. But there
was something my immediate surroundings were flush with, and that was a bunch of salvage I could use to put together a sled to carry my unconscious companion with. Trouble was that most of it was buried under too much snow to get out in a timely fashion, but not all of it.
So that meant scouring my surroundings for anything of immediate use. Half broken timbers, shredded tents, broken logs, proper
Umgak material as my people would say, but I couldn't spend time finding the perfect old Growth log to use for a toboggan now could I?
To no one's surprise, even digging through the relatively small amounts of semi-compact snow that now served as the unceremonious tomb for my friends and family was a physically and mentally taxing job that didn't leave a lot of time or energy for me to think all too hard.
By the time I had finished for the day I was just happy I didn't come across any identifiable bodies.
Just bloodstains, or bits of hair, and skin that had been unearthed by the howling wind.
Can't bemoan a lack of Therapists if you've never been to one.
Rustling from the other side of the shelter makes me pause, and I immediately turn my head to see and make sure I'm not mistaken.
I blink owlishly, watching Princess Alrika wipe her eyes clean of the gunk accumulated from days worth of sleep as if nothing had happened.
Silently, I move to my crudely made chair and sit down across from her, watching as she goes through the process of waking up, growing confused at her surroundings, before finally noticing me and blurting out the obvious question.
"What in my father's name am I doing here?" she asks, her voice an understandable mix of confusion and suspicion.
This feels familiar, I think to myself as the image of a blonde human comes to mind, and I spend more time than I'd like to admit trying to remember
why, before sighing as I realize my little pause has caused the princess to narrow her eyes at me.
Right.
"Avalanche happened," I state bluntly, before hastily adding, "-er your Highness."
My Dwarf parents didn't raise a rude boy, just a dumb one.
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"—then you woke up, your Highness." I finish, smacking my lips before taking a swig of water.
Too much talking for my liking, but when a princess tells you to talk, you start talking.
"I see." she says, trailing off into silence.
I consider breaking that silence, but decide I should just let it be after taking a look at her face.
Her brow is creased, chewing on her cheek and eyes darting around at her surroundings, desperately looking for
something at all. The princess, I assume, is probably mentally digesting what I've just told her from how her face was scrunched up in thought. Not really sure what to do, I settle in and watch her go through everything I've spent the better part of a day and change trying to process myself. I had more important things to worry about than judging her outfit when I was patting her down, but from what I could spy poking out from the furs she was still covered in, her dress seemed to be in alright condition considering the circumstances. I wouldn't even be surprised if they were perfectly fine all considering; if anyone could afford that level of durability for a dress it would be the High King's family after all.
The same couldn't really be said for her hair. She wore it in a single thick braid that reached just below her knees, though her prolonged slumber, the scuffle of the avalanche and my manhandling had left it scandalously dishevelled. Her hands had absentmindedly pulled it over her shoulder and began going through the worst of the damage and fixing what she could while the rest of her attention, I assume, was elsewhere.
I don't know why, but another thing I noticed was that her posture was impeccable; like she was in a Clan council meeting, or whatever the royal equivalent was, and not sitting on the broken half of a table in a hole I made in the snow.
"There were no other survivors?" Alrika asks quietly, staring into the fire.
"Not that I could find," I mutter, just as subdued.
I had looked, of course I had, but I crawled out into a blizzard that left visibility near zero and was covering everything in feet of white powder every minute. Still I had tried, digging blindly in the snow around any dark shape sticking up out of the snowpack in the vain hope that the two of us hadn't been the only ones.
But I hadn't found anyone alive.
Only the dead, or parts of them.
Just my luck wasn't it?
Something in my tone makes Alrika look up I think. She gives me a sympathetic look and drops the subject, letting silence settle between us for a moment.
"What's the plan then Ranger?" she finally says, looking at me expectantly.
I blink.
Right. Plan.
"It's not a complex one your Highness, but it's not easy either. There's a Ranger cache 'bout two days east we can take advantage of." I begin, earning a nod to continue, "It's a bit off the beaten trail and we may have to chew on bark if we get hungry, but it's better than nothing. Terrain'll be tough, especially after the avalanche, but we should be there no more than a day more than usual. After that? We stock up and do our best to get you home, your Highness. With everyone…gone, the only other Dawi operating out here would be Clan Frostbeard. So hopefully we run into them, but we should prepare for the possibility that we'll be going it alone."
Alrika gave me an inscrutable look for a moment.
"It's as good a plan as any." she acquiesces, "When do we leave?"
I grunt and run some quick math in my head and run it against a few points of interest from the crash site that I put off salvaging for later.
"Well since you're awake the timetable's moved up. Give me three hours to do a few things, and we can get moving," I hesitantly put forward.
Alrika stares at me for a moment longer before nodding.
"What can I help with?"
I was startled by her offer, and that only made her snort in what I assume is annoyance.
"I'm no manling waif who needs someone to braid my hair for me Ranger. Just hand me an axe and tell me what to do. Two sets of hands will get more done than one." she insists, staring at me.
"Right," I reply faintly, "Right. Well I don't have a spare axe on me. C'mon then. Hopefully we find one in all this wreckage."
That isn't attached to its previous owner I add mentally.
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We find her an axe half buried in the snow, thankfully without having to pry it out of the frozen hands of one of my relatives, before combing the wreckage for a few necessary supplies. Mostly in the form of tarps, furs and afterwards we spent an hour dividing and packing everything up as best as we could before heading for the cache. Alrika walked in front, while I stayed a few steps behind and did my best to make it hard for any would-be attackers or predators to track our path from the avalanche site. We largely spent our time in silence, which suited me fine, but eventually curiosity beat out the princess's stoicism.
"Have you thought about who was responsible?" Alrika asks about two hours into our walk.
I spend a moment trying to think of a way to say 'no, I've been trying not to die,' that is socially acceptable to a traditional Dwarf.
Fuck it.
"Not particularly," I admit slowly.
That response gets her to turn back and silently stare at me for several, very awkward, seconds.
"Why not?" she eventually asks, tone cautious.
I notice a nice looking stick along our path, and I grab it without a second thought as I reply.
"It could be the Grobi, who used the earlier attack as a way to lull our senses. It could be some third party like the Raki or the Dumi, using the Gobbos as a proxy to do the same thing even. It could be that strange beast that I saw fly off that night as well. At this point any of them could be the culprit, and I didn't have the time, resources or experience to figure it out." I explain, fiddling with the stick absentmindedly.
What else do you want or expect me to say, try and pull off a mohawk right then and leave you to freeze, I grumble in my head.
"So you chose to save me?" she presses.
How do I say 'duh?' in a way that won't get me in hot water?
Right.
"We swore an oath to the High King, that we would get you home to him no matter the cost it may incur. So I choose to fulfill the oath sworn by my family before I follow through with my vengeance, your Highness. And, if I may be frank, saving you means what little family I have left won't have to worry about being thrown out in the cold by a grieving High King," I tell her plainly, looking down at my stick.
Hopefully that mollifies her.
Alrika doesn't respond immediately, but even I, socially inept as I am, can notice the sincerity in her voice.
"That is honorable of you, I—" she pauses, questioning herself probably, before pushing on by saying, "—I owe you a debt."
That does make me stumble, dropping the stick as I do so. You don't throw those around lightly in Dwarf society, admissions of debt I mean. A Dwarf's word had supreme weight in Karak society, and so you don't make promises you, or your family for that matter, may not be able to keep. Not when you're a princess, especially when you're a princess really, and not to a Ranger with color still in his beard either. By all rights she could successfully argue that I'm simply fulfilling the terms of the original oath and I wouldn't really have a leg to stand on. Not as a Ranger, not as one so young too.
And she knows that.
"I beg your pardon, your Highness, but the Wind's howling something fierce. Did you say something?" I ask, finally looking up to stare at her warily.
I'm giving you an out, for all that's good, take it and make my life simple!
I've seen the High King once in my life, it was a decade ago during Keg End when he and his retinue walked down the Karak's main thoroughfare with every Clan in the Hold not part of the procession lining the sides to cheer him on. It wasn't a long look since I almost immediately bowed my head as low as it could go along with everyone else when he passed, but It was long enough that I could pick out a few details of his face. Wrinkled skin, a nose that looked like a cauliflower that had been dropped in transit a few too many times, steely grey eyes that stared out from beneath a craggy, scrunched brow, and of course, a beard so long, white and shiny it was almost like he had draped a length of clean silk down his face and around his belly.
Alrika didn't share many physical similarities with the High King save eye colour. With her button nose, softer features, smooth skin and lack of beard she's the epitome of a young Dwarf maiden, but with her brows scrunched, eyes flint hard and conviction evident on her face though…
…In that moment I can see the resemblance she shares with her father.
"Forestalling your vengeance, saving me instead of your own kin as well. Perhaps it is foolish of me, but I would shame my Ancestors, nor sleep easily, by not acknowledging the lengths you have undergone to fulfill your family's oath. I owe you a debt Ranger." she repeats loudly, as if—
—ah who am I kidding? She was definitely daring me to try that again and see where it got me.
Welp.
In the name of not getting into a fight and because I knew I couldn't outstubborn her, I just incline my head in acknowledgement while holding back a sigh.
"I won't abuse your kindness, your Highness," I reply sincerely.
Alrika nods firmly and turns back around. With nothing left to say, we both go quiet and let the howl of the wind and the crunch of snow beneath our feet fill the void. Me, worrying about the mess I've gotten into and Alrika's mind on whatever princesses think about.
Hey many times Great-Grandparents eternally feasting in Gazul's Hall below? Could you get the Frostbeard's Ancestors to hurry their kids along and find us as quickly as they can?
Thanks.
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AN: Big change here is in the position Norgrim finds himself in, and the dialogue too. A bit of clarification about some other things and hopefully improvements to the flow of everything. Enjoy and C&C. :^)
