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Chapter #3
Conspiracy at Eisbrecher
by: Unknown
You had laughed at the mountaineers as they warned you about the climb. The path to Eisbrecher could only be traversed in the spring, they had said, mentioning that sudden blizzards could send even experienced climbers tumbling into deep chasms. But the promise of kingly wealth was stronger than the lectures of village peasants, so you mocked the warnings even as you sensed the chill grow in the air. No pain, no gain, you had told yourself.
Now, you teetered on the edge of a treacherous cliff, praying that the snowfall stops so you can stumble back to a safer road.
Why did these northern fools live here anyways, you thought hopelessly as your frostbitten fingers gripped icy-cold handholds. Eisbrecher had better serve me a gods-damned feast for this!
It was now the third day of the climb, and there was no going back. You certainly weren't going to face the villagers after you derided them; but more importantly, several bridges had collapsed moments after you crossed them. The winds howled, and there was zero visibility. Your face, although tightly bundled in fine furs, was still being pelted by whipping hailstones. All of the gods of Zenith seemed like they wanted you dead. And if the snow and hail didn't stop soon, that's exactly what was going to happen.
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