“The Northern Province is filled with a myriad of powerful beasts. Frost Wolves, able to take down a group of Rank 2 hunters with ease. Giant Eagles that can grab and carry off horses in their mighty talons. Ursine, Great White Polar Bears that even a Rank 5 would be wary of.”

Chapter 44

The snow continued to fall unabated for the next several days, and the storm had gotten so bad that the Mayor of Grand Falls was forced to call an emergency council meeting. Representatives from various powerful groups attended, all with the goal of putting an end to the unnatural weather.

Sitting at the head of a long table, the Mayor of Grand Falls, Eric Allard called the council to order. A tall and burly man, he was once a great adventurer in his youth. He had traveled the mountains, delving deep into the Dwarven ruins and had retired to Grand Falls for a more peaceful life.

Mayor Allard was respected by the people of Grand falls. His family name becoming well known in the north. It had been years since he retired, and the easier life had softened him a bit. Although he was still strong as a rank 5 , he was in his twilight years of life.

With his long brown beard, big belly covered by thick woolen clothing and his fur lined cloak, he lived up to the nickname the locals had given him, The Northern Bear of Grand Falls.

“Order!” The Bear roared. As things settled, he continued speaking. “Good. Now, I’ve asked you all here in order to find a solution to this mess.” He said calmly, pointing out the large windows at the thick layer of snow visible.

“How do we know this isn’t just a spring snowstorm? I’ve been told they happen quite frequently.” An oily voice spoke slowly from down the table. The speaker was wearing fine silk clothing, heavily enchanted for warmth, and was idly twirling a golden rod, the symbol of his office.

As a representative of the Emperor, Magistrate Atticus was responsible for upholding the Empire’s laws in the northern community. Atticus was olive skinned, with long black hair, and handsome southern features.

“With all due respect, Magistrate, I’ve lived in the north my entire life and I’ve never seen anything like this before. Spring storms happen, but never for nearly two weeks straight! This snow is unending!” The tall woman, sitting across from the Magistrate, slapped her hand down on the table in frustration. The blow nearly buckled the table from her strength.

Jane Martin represented the Hunter’s guild, who were responsible for bringing in the hides, beast materials and herbs that powered the northern economy. Dressed in leather armor and a fur lined cloak, the woman was intimidating to nearly everyone else in the room. As a Rank 6, she was one of the most powerful people in the town.

“I agree. This storm is supernatural, and worse, it’s terrible for trade! Our supplies are not inexhaustible. With the roads closed, we all may starve before it clears!” said a larger woman, dressed in fine clothing and heavily adorned with gold. Irene Durant represented the Mercantile Association.

“What do the mages say?” Allard asked the person to his right, an older woman, wearing silver wizard robes, her hood drawn around her face. She had a staff propped against the table next to her.

The mage shook her head at the question.

“The storm blocks all attempt to discern its origins. It has also disrupted our communications, we cannot travel through Teleportation or Gates. I will agree with the others, it is not a natural occurrence. No true storm would scatter our Mana in such a way.”

“As helpful as always! Mages.” Martin scoffed, spitting on the floor after she said it.

Allard let out a deep sigh as the table argued, losing hope that they would agree on a course of action. He turned to the last person at the table. Dressed in heavy yellow robes, he was wearing a tall and elaborate miter headdress, with a golden sun symbol on the front.

As the representative of Primaris in Grand Falls, Allard was hoping that the Priest had an answer. Noticing the Mayor’s gaze, the priest nodded at the inquiry.

“Primaris has spoken to me. He has proclaimed that help has already arrived. It is for us to place our faith in Him.” The priest responded. Allard perked up at the words initially, but his head dropped at the vague response.

“I don’t suppose he provided any additional details, hmm? A timeframe perhaps?” The magistrate said, skeptical of the priest and the god the represented.

“Of course not! As useful as mages when it comes to answers.” Martin said, shaking her head at the priest.

“Enough! This isn’t helping” Allard said, standing up. “We need a plan, we need to do something! You’re all here because Grand Falls needs your help!” He exclaimed, looking helplessly at the group.

As his shouted plea for assistance echoed off the stone walls, the doors to the large room slammed open.

“Ask and you shall receive!” A man’s voice thundered dramatically, ringing through the chamber.

Everyone looked up at the sudden interruption, to see a man swagger into the chamber. His arms were thrown wide open, as if he were expecting applause for his entrance.

The unexpected guest was a shorter man, dressed in the finest silk clothing. His shirt was burgundy, while his pants were made of black leather, tightly clinging to his legs. He wore a white silk overcoat, heavily embroidered with depictions of roses and flowers.

Over his clothing he was wearing a cloak of fine black fur, which shimmered in the light.

He strutted over to the table and stood at the end as he observed the group. The man flashed a smile, his pearly white teeth shining brightly.

More beautiful than handsome, he stood before them and assessed the effect his entrance had on the room’s occupants. He raised a hand and raked it gently through his long, blond hair, smoothing it down.

Allard was shocked at his brazen entry into a private meeting.

“Who in the nine hells are you?” He asked, disgusted with the popinjay and angered that he would interrupt a meeting as important as this with his nonsense.

“Archibald Anwir, at your service” he proclaimed, bowing deeply while sweeping an arm out grandly beside him and bending his left leg behind him. As he straightened, he was satisfied to see the looks of recognition on the faces around the table.

“Archibald the Bard?” Magistrate Atticus asked, recognizing the name.

“The very same!” He said, before striking a pose and raising a hand in the air “When in disgrace with fortune and men’s eyes, I all alone beweep my outcast state!” He quoted.

“That’s all well and good, but we don’t have time for poems and sonnets. In case you’re too daft to notice, we are in the middle of a crisis! Away with you, go find a common room to perform in!” Allard said, gesturing to the guards to take the man away.

“Your troubles, my good sir, is exactly why I am here!” Archibald said, before taking out a parchment from under his coat, holding it up for Allard to see the Seal on the front.

Allard leaned forward looking at the seal on the paper. It was of a mountain ram, rearing backwards on its two back legs. He recognized it as belonging to House Anjou, the noble family who held authority in large parts of Northern Illyria. Grand Falls fell under their demesne.

Allard signed deeply, before gesturing for Archibald to take a seat at the end of the table. “Lady Anjou sent you here to help?” He asked, doubtful of the man’s capabilities.

“Indeed!” He said, sitting at the table and leaning back dramatically. “I was dining with the Lady Anjou at her estate, lovely woman, and she was absolutely despairing about the current events. She was practically inconsolable! She told me all about this little storm you have, how it has shut down all the roads.” He said, waving dismissively at the window.

“So I offered my services!” He said, placing his hand against his chest. “I could not abide seeing a noble woman like the Lady Anjou in tears, I felt it was my obligation to assist you!”

“And how exactly did you arrive here? As you said, the roads are blocked and Lady Anjou’s estate is nearly a week’s travel away.” Jane Martin asked, doubtful of the Bard’s intentions.

“Why, magic of course!” He said, speaking as if he were talking to child. “Wonderful thing it is, she asked one of her mages to send me straight here. A little chanting, pinch of crushed diamond, and here I am!” Archibald smiled widely at Martin, giving her a full view of his perfect teeth.

“Lady Anjou had access to magic that can pierce this storm and send someone here…and she chose you?” Allard asked in disbelief.

They had risked lives in sending word to the outlying regions for assistance, over a dozen people braving the storm, and they sent a Bard to help?

Allard turned to look at the mage next to him.

“A risky spell, attempting to teleport someone through the interference could easily scatter their body parts across the breadth of the Empire.” The mage replied.

“As I’ve said, Primaris spoke to me. Help is already here.” The priest said, bowing his head in prayer.

Archibald’s smile grew even wider at the words, while Allard felt nothing but despair.