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Message: <blockquote data-quote="Jon Potter" data-source="post: 287881" data-attributes="member: 2323">Part 3: There's No Business Like Snow BusinessKarak's grip tightened on his war axe as he peered into the snow after the shadowy form. It had vanished into the snow, however."Hmmphf," he snorted, and began muttering to himself, his voice just audible above the wind. "That kinna be good: Arngrim's ice axe left 'ere an' tha Snow Giant shamblin' away. I be off ta tell Malak."He wedged the ice axe into his belt, and, taking one last look around, started back toward their campsite.The footpath from their shelter to the floor of the pass was steep and uneven. Malak found traversing it was all the more difficult because it was covering over with snow. He picked his way downward with the sure-footed goat at his heels. At the bottom, he found a short stone plinth inset with a diamond-shaped spiral of runes that spelled out a message in dwarfish. The runes had been engraved long ago, he judged - wind and weather had worn them down. Doubtless Arngrim had used the site many times during his treks through the mountains. It seemed, however, that the safe haven hadn't served the old dwarf on this visit. Malak feared for Arngrim's well being.The clanking of metal on metal drew the cleric's attention as his brother lumbered out of the blowing snow. Karak's breath was trailing from his mouth like forge smoke and his beard, like the goat's muzzle, was painted white with frost. His nose showed red as a tomato."Malak, this'n nae be good," he growled over the wind. He reached behind his back and drew forth their guide's ice axe. "Here be all what I found o' Arngrim."Malak took the tool and frowned at it. The axe was in pristine condition. Somehow that seemed more sinister than if it had been bloody and broken."Tha snow be gettin' too bad. I can barely see an' coul' barely make me way back here," Karak told his brother. "Also, I saw a Hungroth lumberin' off in tha distance.""I saw one too," Malak said. He turned and secured Arngrim's axe to the mountain goat's load. "It fled into tha snow before I cou' get a good look.""An' us with nae sign o' a hole ta duck inta neither," Karak said with a grimace. He rubbed his bearded chin as he thought. "I suggest we start makin' a snow cave against this storm. I'll guard while ye dig. I think we are protected by runes on this site as well as I saw our marker protectin' we dwarves."Malak pointed to the plinth directly to Karak's right."Aye, that's tha one," the warrior nodded. "What say ye ta my plan?""I worry that tha snow may nae stop, and before long we're buried here," Malak cautioned. He squinted into the snow; it was really blowing hard. If the wind changed direction, the rocky outcropping that had served as their campsite would be just as cold and wet as any other. For the time being, however, it remained the only viable shelter he could see."Hrmmpff," Karak snorted. "I am nae too worried 'bout tha depth o' snow, because we be dwarves so used ta tunnellin'.""But nae through snow and ice, brother," Malak replied. The larger dwarf waved away that concern as well. "Me thinks, our dwarven constitutions will withstand th' elements well enough," he said, puffing out his chest.He was right, Malak knew; or at least partly right. With their stony constitutions they'd be able to ignore the ravages of the cold far longer than one of the lesser races could. But ignoring the pain of frostbite wouldn't keep their fingers and toes from subcoming to it.He turned his face eastward. Orin's Shield had risen above the horizon, but was doing a poor job of warming the day and lightening the sky. He frowned."Here's what I propose, brother," he began. "It's daybreak now. I say we hole up at tha campsite for tha day with one o' us on guard duty at a time. At nochefall we head out toward tha abbey."Karak stroked his ice-choked beard and considered."If we travel at noche, I might be able ta navigate us," Malak explained. "And we may be able ta see though tha snow a little better."At last Karak nodded."A goodly plan, me chalak," he said. "Let's be gettin' outen this snow lessin' I develop icicles 'pon me beard."They spent the morning huddled miserably around a small fire that greedily devoured a goodly portion of their remaining wood. It thawed their blood, however, and made the rocky outcropping seem less like a frozen hell as they whiled away the time swapping stories about the ill-fated Arngrim. In true dwarven fashion they honored his memories with tales of his glorious exploits. Sadly, they didn't know him very well; he was from another delve.They had to content themselves with recounting the past exploits of Arngrim's clan, Barzak, during the Battle of Worlds Edge and the Time of Hammers.At no time did they see further evidence of the Hungroths they had seen earlier.It was noontime and Karak was chanting the ancient dwarven dirge called "Greenskin's Folly" that marked the defeat of the Black Orcs during the Time of Hammers."Hold, brother," Malak said, silencing his twin. "Look."He pointed out to the pass beyond the rocks. The snow had slowed considerably. The wind was still blowing strong, but most of the falling snow had stopped."What say ye?" Malak asked.Karak was already standing and gathering his things."I say let's be off whilst tha chance be 'ere," he said. "Mayhap we can find this abbey ere tha snows return."His wish was very nearly granted.They were able to cover more ground than they had feared they would before the snow began again. The strong winds, while they bitterly stung their chapped flesh, scoured the rocky terrain free of clinging snow and ice. The uneven terrain hampered their journey, not the waist-deep drifts of snow that they saw accumulated in areas sheltered from the wind. The flakes had begun to fall again in blinding sheets when they spotted their goal in just such a snow-choked fissure.A low wall of fitted stone nearly covered by drifts of snow loomed out of the blinding whiteness to their left. Following it toward the cliff they found a rusty gate standing open into a crevasse in the cliffside. Above the crevasse stood a small monastery. It was a welcome sight despite the fact that no smoke rose from its chimneys and the windows were all dark. It was intact, however, and the structure seemed sound enough to provide shelter from the icy wind."Can this be tha place, me chalak?" Karak growled. "It seems abandoned."Malak examined the symbols wrought into the iron gate. There were the symbols of Orin, Lord of Light, and Merikka, Father of Heaven worked together in a repeating pattern. Both were deities of virtue. Both were associated with the sun. Both were fitting patrons for Monks of Light's Ascendance."Perhaps tha monks are nae at home," he suggested. "But it seems likely that this be tha place."Karak harrumphed, hefted his war axe and waded through the snow that drifted in the gate. Past the outer gate the crevasse widened, forming a small courtyard sheltered from the wind. To the dwarves' ears, deadened as they were by the roar of the storm, the sudden quiet in the courtyard seemed eerie indeed. In the center of the yard were a small stone-ringed pond and a little bench, both half-covered by snow. Across the yard from the gate a flight of stairs led up to a set of stout wooden doors into the mountainside. The cliff face above was carved with weatherworn bas-relief images of the virtuous gods. Orin was there bearing the sun on his arm. Merikka bore him across the heavens. Near them stood Shaharizod and her handmaiden, Meruna.</blockquote>

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