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princesslaurene
Prompt: The differences between winter in Ancelstierre and the Old Kingdom
Fandom: Old Kingdom
Length: 317 words
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Corporal Wilkinson leaned back against the side of the trench, wrapped up in the heaviest coat he could find as the northerly wind fought its brutal campaign against the summer sun. North of the wall, winter was only just starting; it'd get plenty worse yet, and snow did nothing to discourage the Dead.
He shivered at the thought. He'd been transferred after that incident, where the Chief Minister's son nearly died; transferred to what was supposed to be a safe and quiet post.
That idea rarely lasted more than a couple of weeks.
The corporal wasn't looking forward to the night; there was one last reconnoissance mission planned, before the Old Kingdom weather was simply too bad to take chances. The winters there were vicious and deadly, and that was before necromancers and Free Magic creatures were involved.
It was nothing like the winters he'd had growing up in Corvere. There, winter was safe and comfortable - except for the occasional snowball. It wasn't far to ski, or to skate, or to just sit in front of a fireplace. It was a happier world, where a decent snowman could stand for days.
Bain wasn't terribly different. There were fewer snowmen and fewer snowballs, and it was colder, but still pleasant compared to the primal winters north of the Wall. The townspeople said it hadn't always been that bad, that some strange creature made their winters worse. The corporal hadn't believed them at first; not until he'd seen the way the wind would follow the Dead into Ancelstierre.
The same kind of wind as blew now. The corporal shivered; whether at the thought or the cold, he couldn't say. He'd be colder yet; before the dawn, he'd fancy he could live in an ice cube and feel warm.
Corporal Wilkinson just hoped he'd have plenty more chances to feel cold, after the night's work was done.
princesslaurenePrompt: The differences between winter in Ancelstierre and the Old Kingdom
Fandom: Old Kingdom
Length: 317 words
Make a request
Corporal Wilkinson leaned back against the side of the trench, wrapped up in the heaviest coat he could find as the northerly wind fought its brutal campaign against the summer sun. North of the wall, winter was only just starting; it'd get plenty worse yet, and snow did nothing to discourage the Dead.
He shivered at the thought. He'd been transferred after that incident, where the Chief Minister's son nearly died; transferred to what was supposed to be a safe and quiet post.
That idea rarely lasted more than a couple of weeks.
The corporal wasn't looking forward to the night; there was one last reconnoissance mission planned, before the Old Kingdom weather was simply too bad to take chances. The winters there were vicious and deadly, and that was before necromancers and Free Magic creatures were involved.
It was nothing like the winters he'd had growing up in Corvere. There, winter was safe and comfortable - except for the occasional snowball. It wasn't far to ski, or to skate, or to just sit in front of a fireplace. It was a happier world, where a decent snowman could stand for days.
Bain wasn't terribly different. There were fewer snowmen and fewer snowballs, and it was colder, but still pleasant compared to the primal winters north of the Wall. The townspeople said it hadn't always been that bad, that some strange creature made their winters worse. The corporal hadn't believed them at first; not until he'd seen the way the wind would follow the Dead into Ancelstierre.
The same kind of wind as blew now. The corporal shivered; whether at the thought or the cold, he couldn't say. He'd be colder yet; before the dawn, he'd fancy he could live in an ice cube and feel warm.
Corporal Wilkinson just hoped he'd have plenty more chances to feel cold, after the night's work was done.
