The storm raged as the group braced the cold, crouched over their mounts to stay on their mounts. The large beasts that appeared as a cross between both a stag and a horse strode slowly but steadily through the storm. Their positions visible to each other just by the light orange glow of a heating crystal held close to their beings.

The cold brought with it a sense of hopelessness as they carried on, not knowing how far they had travelled. Ghost thought he say the shine of blue eyes appear and disappear during the storm.

Soon a dome appeared in the distance, barely visible through the storm until they approached nearly to the point of touching. It was a spot where the wind appeared to curve round. Just as the Stags were about to enter the dome, they passed a man with great antlers in tribal-fur clothes, staring at them with shining blue eyes. As they passed into the dome the wind immediately disappeared, shockingly so as they no longer needed to brace any wind nor try and fight an intense cold. Within the dome there was almost an absence of any moving air.

Within they saw many buildings like that of tribal tents, made from wood, bone and animal fur. A young woman in tribal furs noticed their approach and bowed her antlers towards them. After a brief pause, she pointed towards the largest tent. The group moved in unison, switching off crystal.

“Let’s get this over with. I need a bit of sun on my arse,”Ghost said.

They opened the tent flap and were greeted by the light from humming blue crystals spread around the interior. The space was large enough that many walked around amongst themselves. A man was on a large throne-like seat made out of bone and thatched wood slouching forward his head on one hand . He raised his head as the group entered.

“Welcome ,” the chief greeted, seeming to known about their arrival it was as though the awkward gathering is in response to their arrival.

“We come with respect to your people and offer this head as proof of our peaceful intentions,” Fiona stated before motioning towards Ghost so that he may bring out their trophy.

Ghost brought out the head of the slain antlered bull, grabbing the beast by its antlers. It seemed to have taken some damage during the storm and the antler came off. In an attempt to lighten the mood and distract from the seriousness of the exchange he held the antlers up to his head and pretended to be adorned with antlers like the natives of this land appeared to be.

Gasps resounded across the space.

“Oh for the love of, could you please show some respect?” Phoebe cried.

The man on the seat’s brow flickered with frustration but he held up his hand.

“Even with such disrespect with have our traditions. What do you seek?”

Another of his tribe moved forward to accept the beast along with its antlers seeming. As he did he appeared to pull an energy from its head and nodded to the chief.

Their engineer bowed. “We are here on behalf of Hugo Lefèvre, heretic of the citadel and lord of the dark lands. He asks for your help in the coming battle.”

The chief pointed towards a few of his tribesmen at the back and said a phrase that sounded like a form of Scandinavian French. Soon a tribal woman approached with a pouch of furs filled with glowing blue gems.

“We owe much to Hugo and wish to pay our debts. If you make the passage once more through the storm know that we will be there for him as he was for us,”

After the pouch was received, they group looked to the chief wondering if that was it. The chief slightly lowered his head and raised one hand towards the flap of the tent where a girl raised in showing the white of the outside.

They moved outside.

“If you had listened at all you would know not to do that,” said Phoebe, tossing a scathing glare at the rogue.

“It’s just bloody political correctness. Same place, different story.”

“You are literally the worst.”

“Oooh, and where would you be without me? I took down that beast practically single handed.”

“Even if we didn’t fight it we could have laid a trap, not tried to fight it head on like a deranged lunatic.”

“I’d like to see what you’d do without me. I should have just gone in and killed the fuckers myself. You know how many wankers I’ve ended? How many people I’ve taken out without a single twat noticing? Dictators, war lords. The fucking triads.”

They climbed back on their mounts getting an eerie look from a passing tribesman. Soon they passed into the cold heading back in the direction they came, the light on their heat crystals flickering slightly as they entered the storm once again.