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Tuesday, March 11

Herald of the Yellow King - Part 1d: Derek’s Holding

“What the hell happened to Vlad?” Dril helped lug Vlad’s flash-frozen body into the hut.

“Winter wolves.” Ilmarė stood at the center of the hut facing the doorway, her bow drawn. “They can breathe frost. I think there were three of them.”

“But they had the advantage,” said Dril. He unshouldered his rifle. “Why did they run away?”

Kham, leaning on the doorframe, reloaded one of his pistols. “They’re reloading.”

“What do you mean?”

“Think about it.” Kham reloaded another of his pistols. “They could have killed one or two of us just now, but we would have killed a few of them as well. The wolves are eating snow so they can spew their breath at us again. They’ll keep it up until we make a mistake.” He nodded towards the unforgiving snowstorm outside. “They can afford to be patient.”

“Well we can’t.” Dril tipped a healing potion up to Vlad’s frozen lips. “Vlad’s in bad shape. In this snow, we can’t even see them until they’re right on top of us.”

“And it reeks of wolf in here.” Ilmarė wrinkled her nose.

“We’re in their den,” said Kham. “To the wolves, we’re the intruders.” [MORE]

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posted by Mike Tresca at 6:15 AM


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