Welcome to Survival

Winter Is Coming…

The year comes to an end….the wilds begins to quieten its rage slowly ebbing away as winter takes hold and frost, rime and snow blanket its leafless mass. Druids go from glade to glade watching their flock descend into hibernation….rituals ward the sleepers from harm.

The council sit within the heart of the world and debate the future, the hint of a civil war and the gardeners words…..Keifu and Mizu sitting far apart their eyes avoiding the others….Benson, deep in conversation with his possession…Ko Ko and Pow Wow huddled beneath thick woollen blankets cursing the cold…..Wendy stands sentinel his mood dark as the season.

The mountains creak and groan and shed their white crowns, winds lifting them and flinging them across the world.

The seven seas toss and spume, storms rail and roar, ships stay moored, battered by gales but safe in sturdy ports. Cities glow with the warmth of thousands of lit fires, chimneys belching smoke into the air forming black halos atop their spires like fallen angels sable and dark.

The holds too batten down to weather the winter, small danger of crusade as the dark curtain of winter falls upon the lands.

And Stormgard….safe within the embrace of its fey guardians, its folk tired from a year of hardship and strife, wounds slowly healing, a graveyard fuller than before.

Within its walls the spirit, silent invisible…..ghostlike drifts amongst her wards. Atop the walls.. grey cloaked legion militia gather about braziers warming their hands listening to tales of past glories from Gaius their centurion and Chaplain Morgan.

The tavern is full, the shanks and ursine roar in song as a drinking game gets more rowdy…the jotun kick chairs and bellow good humour,….none of them notice when the talk dark haired shadow always so close to Murphy, stands and quietly leaves.

In the glade of the Nexus stone the fey all bow their heads and bid fair well to the year….much they have suffered and the coming days would prove. Trying…..

Far away in a ruined keep, unfeeling the bitter chill of the northern wind, the meek look north…watching the north and the red glow of countless fires….

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