//------------------------------// // I - Snowblind // Story: Of Steel and Ships // by Alfoals Trottenbauer //------------------------------// Sven drew his sword thinking he heard something. The spiked log wall behind him creaked from the blizzard. The torches were running out. The last few woodpiles were used for a ship. This was the last night on their homeland. The other clans were busy fighting with each other. Asgaut, Bodil, and a few others died recently. The other guard, Asbjorn, was on the other side of the entrance, he had been the strongest fighter of them all, his left antler had been broken off by a hydra, he was the only one to fight one and live, or so the myth goes. Sven never had much in common with his folk. He was only put on guard to hold the other clans off. His people had used their resources too sparingly. They were all sick, weak from starvation, or dead. Asbjorn stared at Sven, Sven had his weapon out for no reason. The burly moose laughed to himself. "Sven, don't draw your sword to the wind. It isn't going to do more than bite you." The sun started to rise. The other folk of the village, Myrr, woke up and trotted outside the walls. An elderly moose fell over into the snow. One next to her touched her with a hoof and shook his head. The rest got into the small, hastily-made ship. Asbjorn pulled the makeshift anchor up. The ship took off, leaving Myrr behind. Their weapons, tools, and what little food they had left were packed into the corner. They sailed for wherever the wind took them.