The Lady of the North Winter had arrived early that year, the first heavy snowfalls blocking Shawfort Pass, cutting us off from the Kingdom. Like every year the orcs would attack, but as long as the clans were divided, they didn’t pose a serious threat. But then our scouts returned, reporting that Hrothgar had united the clans and was readying a vast army. They would be upon us long before the first spring thaw, so they could march on the Kingdom as soon as the Pass cleared. We knew we didn’t stand much of a chance, but we had to make one last desperate attempt to send warning to our countrymen south of the mountains. Our only hope was to reach Gaedolin, the city of the Iyach’Naphrael or, as they were commonly called, the Ice Elves. They wouldn’t come to our aid, but we could send messages to the Kingdom from there, carried by the Imphrahlii, the riders of the white dragons. It wouldn’t be easy. The trip would take us straight through the orc-infested Ingrath Forest and across the White Plains, a desolate land of snow and ice. Five days had past since we left the fortress. We travelled due north at night and sought shelter during the day. We did see plenty of signs of orcs, but managed to avoid them until we reached the Eldgull. The only bridge across the wide river was guarded, but our attack was fast, we took them completely by surprise, and it was over before they could raise an alarm. Turning east, we now had to follow the Eldgull for about ten days to where it was joined by the Sirinth. Then turn north again, out of the forest and across the White Plains until we reached our destination. Three days after crossing the bridge our luck turned. “Crale! Ware!” Without warning they erupted from the trees. My cry came too late. As I pulled my sword, the orc’s blade dug deep into Crale’s side. I turned, blocking a thrust aimed at my back. Could fate really be this cruel? Were these orcs going to end our mission right here, right now? “No! (Swing) They’re! (Parry) NOT!” A look of surprised crossed the orc’s face as my thrust found his heart. I pulled my sword free as he went down. Determined not to let them win I attacked the nearest foe. No more than a minute later he lay dying at my feet. They ran, but I knew there wouldn’t be much time before they came back with reinforcements. “Chanic?” I had seen Crale fall but had hoped his wound wasn’t as bad as it looked, had hoped he could be saved. But the way Rahm spoke my name shattered that hope. It told me Crale would not be going with us any further. “They’re going east.” Braston and Lokar were staring after the retreating orcs. “I know,” I answered. “So we’ll go north.” I only hoped that we could turn east again soon. But they drove us north, blocking us every time we tried to turn east. After four days we decided to stop trying. If we kept going north, we’d be out of the forest and on to the Plains in a few days. We knew we’d loose them there, their fear of the Iyach’Naphrael greater than their desire to kill us. They followed us out on that cold, empty, desolate wasteland for two days before turning back. Calculating our position as best as I could, I figured we could still find Gaedolin if we stayed on a northeastern course. But it was so hard to judge which way we were going, because we couldn’t see the sun. Thick layers of clouds had turned the sky to a uniform white, the same endless white as the snow-covered land. All we could do was walk into the wind, for on the Plains it was usually blowing from the northeast. For days we struggled through the deep snow, struggled against the wind. We only took short rests, huddled close to preserve what little warmth was still left in our bodies. Exhausted, cold, hungry. Fearing that if we fell asleep, it would be forever. With a start I awoke, covered by a thick blanked of fresh snow. Nearly panicking I started to shake my companions, a wave of relieve washing over me as they finally started to stir. And then I saw her. Kneeling a few feet away, her head bowed, her eyes closed, pale skinned, she was the most beautiful creature I had ever seen. She opened her eyes and with her pale blue stare she melted our frozen hearts. Then she stood and turned away and we struggled to our feet to follow her. Day turned into night, night turned into day. We didn’t feel the cold, the hunger, we just didn’t feel a thing. We didn’t know if we were still alive, we didn’t even care. All we did was follow our mysterious, silent guide to where ever she was leading us. Days passed, but we hardly noticed it. Then suddenly she stopped. She smiled at us, stretched her arm and pointed. We strained our eyes, unable to see far through the heavy snowfall. As if by magic the snow stopped. And there, glowing white against the darkening sky we saw the tall thin spires of Gaedolin. With tears streaming down my face I turned to thank her, but she was gone. “Who was she?” Messages had been send to the Kingdom, warning them of the coming war. We had slept for almost two full days. Our host smiled and broke into song. First in his delicate language, then translating it in ours. I’ve forgotten most of the words, but one part I will always remember: She lives in a land of snow and ice But she doesn’t feel the cold Pure and serene she walks the White Plains She is the Lady of the North