19 December 2014
Cold. The Eternal cold that bound Praia was felt even by the heroes. Here, in this castle, there was no escape from the cold. Even Flame Tail, a girl always enveloped by flames, could not keep herself warm. Damned hunters! It was them that woke this never before seen winter.
“My Lord!” The low, anxious voice of the Warlord filled the room. “My Lord, what is your decision?”
The war council was noticeably on-edge: it seemed everyone has lost hope. The castle was under siege by several clans, who blocked any attempt at retaliation. Little helpers of the Fairy Queen didn’t allow any survey, attacking anyone who came near the embrasures, and the deadly arrows of the Hunter pierced anyone who set foot outside the gate.
Everyone was in despair – everyone but the wise Lord. He rose from his seat and strode to a little reliquary encrusted with jewels. Every lord possessed such a reliquary: it housed one of the main treasures of any castle – the hero catalysts. Only those that fit, of course. The Lord took a beautiful crystal from the reliquary – it looked so much like a prime crystal. The deep blue frosty piece of jewelry hung on a silver chain and seemed to radiate cold.
“It’s time to freeze the souls in their bodies,” said the Lord, peering into the ice catalyst.
… In the tent where the headquarters of the attackers was set-up, the discussion of further campaign plans was already underway. A fireball cast by the Sorcerer, gave light and warmth to the gathered. The cold permeated all, and everyone wanted to leave this land for the south, where weather is more forgiving, even if not as comfortable as usual. Nox hid in its cocoon, the fire wolves of the Fire Dancer huddled together in the farther corner of the tent, and only the Demonologists Archons – who by their nature couldn’t feel any cold – stood guard.
Suddenly, an icy wind stormed through the camp, overturning tents. The campfires went out, even the fireball hanging over the maps seemed to get colder. Armour was covered in rime, water formed an icy sheet on the surface.
“The gates are opening,” came a voice of the scout.
“Ready for action!” The command sounded over the camp.
Hunter nocked a charmed arrow and readied a shot.
Against an army of attackers, one single fighter stepped up. Tall, stately, with blue fire in his eyes. The one whom Praia has not encountered before. The Hero prepared for battle. He feared nothing.
His arms crossed on his chest, he raised his head and surveyed the enemies.
Everything froze: people, Heroes, even time itself stood still in the brief moment of lull before the storm which no one can stop anymore.