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There are small piles of fliers left around the taverns of the valley, when asked about it people say that a woman came by, dropped them off and said: "Maybe its not much, but everyone could use a good story now and then. Please feel free to take one"
The General and the Ice Spirit
There once stood a stronghold in the deepest of north, where cold could freeze your breath in the air before you and where staying still for long times meant not moving ever again. Snow rained down upon this forth and every night it would burrow its steadfast walls under a blanket of white snow. The fort, built there by hardy men, was inhabited by men even stronger than the stones that made the lonely fort.
The fort stood there for a reason, you see it stood before a passage, protecting the lands behind it from any and all invasions made by frost trolls, frozen giants or ancient terrors made of ice. For years, the high walls had been battered by attacks from the greatest of threats, and through this all a single man had lead in the fort. General Myrtom, a man forged in the harsh winters of the north was said to be able to melt the very snow around him with his kind hearth. This didn't mean he was a soft leader though, for he stood as one more wall for any force to surpass before they could ever take another step beyond the passage. Myrtom was a decisive man, and his mind was a sharper weapon than his sword, but those are stories for another time. This story is about the end of his wars, when rumors of a giant army of giants approaching the fort, larger than any had seen in decades. Myrtom had always kept his family close by in a village behind the fort, but this time he begged them to leave. If you have ever seen a woman with a broken hearth then you know when I tell you that the general had never felt more bad about his actions as he watched his wife depart with the rest. There was hope though, as he had promised them that after the war was over, he'd be waiting for them at the crossroads to the village, so that they would not miss it.
The war passed and the fort was reduced to near rubble. Seeing how the north was a lost cause with constant attacks the armies were asked to retreat. At this point Myrtom didn't heed to those calls. He resigned his position in the army and took watch at the crossroads. It had been years since he had seen his wife, and he was not about to let her pass by the crossroads and get lost in the wilderness of the north. Time passed, in the dark of eternal winter it was hard to tell how much. It might have been days, or weeks or months, but eventually the lonely general attracted the attention of a frost spirit, a bitter creature who had lived in the solitude of the icy wilderness for years. They didn't like anyone and noone liked them and that was completely fine with everyone. But now there was a mortal man standing in the beautiful desolation the spirit had created. At first it only watched from afar, measuring the man, waiting for him to collapse. When the general didn't, the spirit got closer, made itself visible, but even the visage of the frosty being didn't shake the general. He stood there, on the crossroads and watched the road covered in snow. Eventually the spirit approached the man and shrieked: "Who are you to defy my homeland? How dare you not seek shelter from the snow?" The general spoke shortly as every breath through his mouth was like an icicle down his throat: "I am former General Myrtom and I stand guard here so that those who pass back to their village will not be lost" With this the spirit screamed out a laughter, twirling around the general, raising torrents of cold and snow: "They left for the south! Those who didn't succumb on the journey will never return to my beautiful solitude! They've found a better life and will not bother me again!" The general did not speak, for he had to watch the road. "FINE! I will give you one chance to leave. This time tomorrow you shall be gone, or I will raise a wind so harsh it'll freeze your bones!" And with that the spirit was gone.
The next day came and the spirit was certain he had finally achieved complete peace, but as he approached the crossroads he saw the same figure standing vigiliant. With a shriek and a scream the spirit summoned a freezing wind, laughing: "I gave you a chance! Now you will be buried for good!" But the wind was nothing to the general. He had lived in the north and knew how unforgiving the nature was. Still, even if his instincts told him to seek cover he knew he had to stand guard. In this weather his wife would never see him if he was to hide. The wind blew for a week, before the spirit returned. Shaking from the cold, the general was still standing, watching the road like a statue. The spirit was even more FURIOUS than before: "LEAVE BEFORE TOMORROWDAWN ARRIVES, OR I SHALL SHOW YOU HOW ANGRY THIS WILDERNESS CAN BE!" but the general stood silent, grasping his sword for support.
As tomorrow dawned, the spirit was already prepared to see the same figure again. This time it seemed more happy than angry: "It has been so long since I've had the pleasure of calling forth the wind and the cold and the ice. Like old friends we will be once more united!" And with those words the spirit became one with the air around him, calling forth a storm that filled the air with snow and ice. Small shards of ice cut into any skin the general had not been able to cover. Even if the harsh wind knocked Myrtom down, he stood back up, fighting the storm to light whatever beacon he could. He would not let his wife pass and get lost!
As the spirit finally let the storm calm, the general was but a weakened soldier, struggling to stand. Now, the spirit spoke in a more calm manner, with respect behind his voice: "You are indeed the strongest general the north has seen, so I shall grant you one more day to leave. Should you stay I will show you just how cold I can be!" And with that the spirit was once more gone and the general was left alone.
Tomorrow dawned and the general stood up from his tent to make sure his beacon was still lit. Before his tent there was a familiar spirit with sadness in its voice: "I gave you a chance, then another and once more, yet you will not succumb. Fine! If this place is so important to you, I'll grant it to you forever!" The general struggled on his feet, just before the spirit touched him. They say there is ice so cold that it never melts. That it drains the very warmth around it and stays as nothing but an eternal reminder of the harshness of the north. It first swallowed Myrtom's feet, then his waist and sword, then his torso and arms and just as his vision was turned dark forever the spirit asked for his last words. He spoke with sincerity in his voice: "Thank you. My wife died two years ago in an ambush on the road away from here. Because I sent her away she was gone. I've waited here for her to return to ask for forgiveness, but I was afraid I'd give up before then. Now you've given me the chance to stand here from this moment to all eternity, so that when she finally arrives I can show her to our home." The spirit shrieked and cried out its anger as its victory was taken from it. A spirit of frost can only freeze, but never melt, so now there stood a reminder infront of it forever to tell the story of how a general stood against the harshness of the north and prevailed. So if you are ever lost in the deepest of north and hear a shrieking whistle in the wind, you know that its the spirit still crying. Find a statue of a man, not carved in stone, but not in ice. When you reach him, light his beacon and you will see a village nearby. You are free to take shelter there, for it is guarded by a lonely general forever, because that is the home of him and his wife.
Authors words: I do hope you enjoyed that. This world is sometimes a dark place, but remember that with resilience and patience you will always win. And please don't get lost in the north, this is a story and not the truth so you might actually freeze, and I really do not wish to be to blame for that. Once more, thank you for reading, Alyssandra De'Whelm
There once stood a stronghold in the deepest of north, where cold could freeze your breath in the air before you and where staying still for long times meant not moving ever again. Snow rained down upon this forth and every night it would burrow its steadfast walls under a blanket of white snow. The fort, built there by hardy men, was inhabited by men even stronger than the stones that made the lonely fort.
The fort stood there for a reason, you see it stood before a passage, protecting the lands behind it from any and all invasions made by frost trolls, frozen giants or ancient terrors made of ice. For years, the high walls had been battered by attacks from the greatest of threats, and through this all a single man had lead in the fort. General Myrtom, a man forged in the harsh winters of the north was said to be able to melt the very snow around him with his kind hearth. This didn't mean he was a soft leader though, for he stood as one more wall for any force to surpass before they could ever take another step beyond the passage. Myrtom was a decisive man, and his mind was a sharper weapon than his sword, but those are stories for another time. This story is about the end of his wars, when rumors of a giant army of giants approaching the fort, larger than any had seen in decades. Myrtom had always kept his family close by in a village behind the fort, but this time he begged them to leave. If you have ever seen a woman with a broken hearth then you know when I tell you that the general had never felt more bad about his actions as he watched his wife depart with the rest. There was hope though, as he had promised them that after the war was over, he'd be waiting for them at the crossroads to the village, so that they would not miss it.
The war passed and the fort was reduced to near rubble. Seeing how the north was a lost cause with constant attacks the armies were asked to retreat. At this point Myrtom didn't heed to those calls. He resigned his position in the army and took watch at the crossroads. It had been years since he had seen his wife, and he was not about to let her pass by the crossroads and get lost in the wilderness of the north. Time passed, in the dark of eternal winter it was hard to tell how much. It might have been days, or weeks or months, but eventually the lonely general attracted the attention of a frost spirit, a bitter creature who had lived in the solitude of the icy wilderness for years. They didn't like anyone and noone liked them and that was completely fine with everyone. But now there was a mortal man standing in the beautiful desolation the spirit had created. At first it only watched from afar, measuring the man, waiting for him to collapse. When the general didn't, the spirit got closer, made itself visible, but even the visage of the frosty being didn't shake the general. He stood there, on the crossroads and watched the road covered in snow. Eventually the spirit approached the man and shrieked: "Who are you to defy my homeland? How dare you not seek shelter from the snow?" The general spoke shortly as every breath through his mouth was like an icicle down his throat: "I am former General Myrtom and I stand guard here so that those who pass back to their village will not be lost" With this the spirit screamed out a laughter, twirling around the general, raising torrents of cold and snow: "They left for the south! Those who didn't succumb on the journey will never return to my beautiful solitude! They've found a better life and will not bother me again!" The general did not speak, for he had to watch the road. "FINE! I will give you one chance to leave. This time tomorrow you shall be gone, or I will raise a wind so harsh it'll freeze your bones!" And with that the spirit was gone.
The next day came and the spirit was certain he had finally achieved complete peace, but as he approached the crossroads he saw the same figure standing vigiliant. With a shriek and a scream the spirit summoned a freezing wind, laughing: "I gave you a chance! Now you will be buried for good!" But the wind was nothing to the general. He had lived in the north and knew how unforgiving the nature was. Still, even if his instincts told him to seek cover he knew he had to stand guard. In this weather his wife would never see him if he was to hide. The wind blew for a week, before the spirit returned. Shaking from the cold, the general was still standing, watching the road like a statue. The spirit was even more FURIOUS than before: "LEAVE BEFORE TOMORROWDAWN ARRIVES, OR I SHALL SHOW YOU HOW ANGRY THIS WILDERNESS CAN BE!" but the general stood silent, grasping his sword for support.
As tomorrow dawned, the spirit was already prepared to see the same figure again. This time it seemed more happy than angry: "It has been so long since I've had the pleasure of calling forth the wind and the cold and the ice. Like old friends we will be once more united!" And with those words the spirit became one with the air around him, calling forth a storm that filled the air with snow and ice. Small shards of ice cut into any skin the general had not been able to cover. Even if the harsh wind knocked Myrtom down, he stood back up, fighting the storm to light whatever beacon he could. He would not let his wife pass and get lost!
As the spirit finally let the storm calm, the general was but a weakened soldier, struggling to stand. Now, the spirit spoke in a more calm manner, with respect behind his voice: "You are indeed the strongest general the north has seen, so I shall grant you one more day to leave. Should you stay I will show you just how cold I can be!" And with that the spirit was once more gone and the general was left alone.
Tomorrow dawned and the general stood up from his tent to make sure his beacon was still lit. Before his tent there was a familiar spirit with sadness in its voice: "I gave you a chance, then another and once more, yet you will not succumb. Fine! If this place is so important to you, I'll grant it to you forever!" The general struggled on his feet, just before the spirit touched him. They say there is ice so cold that it never melts. That it drains the very warmth around it and stays as nothing but an eternal reminder of the harshness of the north. It first swallowed Myrtom's feet, then his waist and sword, then his torso and arms and just as his vision was turned dark forever the spirit asked for his last words. He spoke with sincerity in his voice: "Thank you. My wife died two years ago in an ambush on the road away from here. Because I sent her away she was gone. I've waited here for her to return to ask for forgiveness, but I was afraid I'd give up before then. Now you've given me the chance to stand here from this moment to all eternity, so that when she finally arrives I can show her to our home." The spirit shrieked and cried out its anger as its victory was taken from it. A spirit of frost can only freeze, but never melt, so now there stood a reminder infront of it forever to tell the story of how a general stood against the harshness of the north and prevailed. So if you are ever lost in the deepest of north and hear a shrieking whistle in the wind, you know that its the spirit still crying. Find a statue of a man, not carved in stone, but not in ice. When you reach him, light his beacon and you will see a village nearby. You are free to take shelter there, for it is guarded by a lonely general forever, because that is the home of him and his wife.
Authors words: I do hope you enjoyed that. This world is sometimes a dark place, but remember that with resilience and patience you will always win. And please don't get lost in the north, this is a story and not the truth so you might actually freeze, and I really do not wish to be to blame for that. Once more, thank you for reading, Alyssandra De'Whelm