By Ahn-Li
Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to Guild Wars. I only own a really overactive account of Guild Wars, thanks to all the friends and role players out there.
Author's Note: Set after Path Left Unwandered and Recovery but during Windborne. Also came to be after our D&D group discovered a way to 'port GW into a playable D20 setting… I'm an evil and cruel woman for writing this before continuing Windborne, I know, but this one is mentioned in Windborne, and while will not spoil Windborne, is needed to have some points explained. Obviously, given that Rurik has 'survived' Frost Gate and the Fire Ring Islands, it's also alternate timeline for the uninitiated. For those, please read Path Left Unwandered and Recovery before reading either Windborne or this, and enjoy.
Summary: During the Yule of 1080 AC, on a diplomatic mission to the Dwarves, King Rurik and his Queen are lost after an avalanche destroys their escort, killing everyone but them in the process. Lost and only able to scrounge his belt knife as weaponry, and the clothing on their backs, they must survive a harsh Shiverpeak winter.
Chapter OneThe wind was their only company, other than that of each other. They huddled under the outcropping, out of the wind and snow as it offered them small measure against the Shiverpeak's fury. He had promised her a good Yule, one spent with friends, warm fires in a cozy dwarven inn and mulled cider as only the Deldrimor could provide.
But, and he compressed his chapped and sore lips, that hadn't come to be.
With a sigh, Rurik busied himself with how he was going to figure out a way to save them both. He had to. Dying out here just wasn't an option so soon after assuming the throne. Dying would mean leaving his young son a King with, likely Barradin, a Regent to rule until the young boy grew to be a man by the Ascalon legal system's strict rules. He felt his wife hug him harder and could just barely hear the prayer. He wasn't even sure which god, or goddess, Selena was praying to.
It didn't matter. No matter how much he knew dying out here would sink Ascalon back into war he knew they likely would die out here, never to be found again. If only he could explain to his people what had happened, or even explain to himself. But there was no way to catalog the trip that was doomed from the start.
It had started out so well.
They had set out from Rin, after spending the better part of the pre Yule celebrations at Barradin's more southerly, and recently revived, estate to the east of Rin…
"How long do you think you are going to be?" asked Rurik's friend, and Duke of Rin, Barradin.
With an easy shrug, Rurik finished checking over the new recruits into the Ascalon Army. "I don't know, actually," he admitted. "I'm hoping we beat the worst of the winter blizzards through Borlis Pass through to at least Grooble's, and then we plan on taking the easier route to Beacon's if the weather holds out."
"Do you think you will?"
"Not likely—but if we have to we can turn back. Honestly I think that is exactly what is going to end up happening but we must at least try to make it," answered Rurik.
Such had been the plan but plans never did happen exactly as Rurik aimed. This one had been a disaster.
With the women safely in the carriage being pulled by yaks the vanguard was able to patrol around them. Rurik himself preferred walking out in the open air instead of riding in the carriage, but every so often his wife called him in. "You know, if you push yourself too much you won't be in shape to actually visit King Jalis," she pointed out when he came in, brushing the snow off of his new armor.
"I know. That's why I'm taking a break and allowing a change in watch," he answered, leaning back on the seat, eyes closed.
For a moment, Selena was quiet. He opened his eyes again and hazel eyes met green, and he leaned over to kiss her lips. "Amazing how you still think you can boss me about," he mused.
An amused, and delicate, snort was his answer. "As if I could. Ever since you regained your strength you've been as independent and as headstrong as ever."
"Would you have me any other way?"
"Probably not," she looked at him sideways. "For then I'd have to kill you because for being an imposter in service to the greater interests of Ascalon."
How quickly a pleasant journey could turn into an unpleasant one when she cocked her head as if listening to something distant and said, "What's that?"
"What's what?" he crinkled his brows in thought, as he tried to strain to hear what her keen hearing had picked up.
A low sound, just barely in the range of what he could hear at all, seemed to thrum. For a moment they merely looked at each other, but the thrumming sound, and feeling, became a low rumble. Looking at the shelf behind and above her, he saw that things were vibrating… rattling…
She followed his gaze, turned to look, and gasped. "By the Five Gods… it's an avalanche!" she stood and put her hand on the door just as the world became a blur of motion, a deafening roar, and the carriage was picked up and for a moment he felt the sickening pause of weightlessness.
He pushed himself off the bench and covered her with his body. With a sigh of relief he could feel the expensive Bonelace armor underneath her gown and winter cloak. For what seemed like hours they were tossed around like dice in a gambler's cup then the carriage came to a crashing halt and shattered into pieces.
Rurik tried to hold onto her as best he could, but in the end all he held in his hands was her cloak. He howled his fury at her apparent loss, and then the cascading sheet of snow sent him, too, over a cliff. The last thing he saw was the surreal view of a pine tree from above, clearly not a view meant for mortal man, as he landed in it. The cracking of branches, and likely bones, was heard, then silence as a light dusting of snow from the disturbed tree fell to the snowy ground below.