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The Tales of Fernan the Rogue #1 The Winter Wraith
A breath of wind stirred the last golden oak leaf in the grove as I strode through it, eager to get to shelter out of the winter night. I knew there was a cave close by and I hurried for it. No one in there right mind stayed out after dark in winter and it wasn’t the bitter chill and sudden snow storms that kept them inside, it was snowwraiths, pinkish-blue, slightly transparent horrors appearing as floating mists with vaguely human faces that haunted the winter nights. I picked up my pace, jogging now as I saw the cave in the distance.
A few hours later I reached the cavern and blew a sigh of relief, dusk was only a few minutes a way and the large white wolves known as wraithhounds were already out, snowwraiths would soon follow.
I threw myself down on my bedroll as my supper boiled on a small campfire I had made. I loosened the belt that held my assortment of daggers and my rapier and dropped it next to me.
Later as I tossed and turned a bitter wind entered the cave with the snowwraith! I quickly awoke to its chill breath and sweeping my hand around I grabbed a knife and threw it at the wraith! It would have been a perfect hit… if the wraith was flesh and blood but as it was the dagger sailed harmlessly through it, however it struck a wolf about to leap in and the hound dropped as I groped around for where my fire had been. Yes! I found it and stirring up the ashes. I ignited a stick and brandished my improvised torch between me and the monster of winter. Swiping out at the apparition, I struck and it pealed out a cry like the worst winter wind whistling through trees as it started to disperse but it quickly regrew the missing area of mist. It stretched a finger of indigo frost slowly forward and extinguished my torch and I felt certain I was going to die.
“Did you die Mr.Balefor?” a small child asked the weatherworn traveler on the stool.
“Yes, but I wasn’t going to let him get away with it! I picked the gateway of death and came back here and taught that wraith to mess with me!” he said with a chortle. He turned to the child’s mother “thank you for having me but I must be going now”, he said regretfully “I’ll be back next year with some more tales for him” and he walked out into the snowy morning.
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