Twenty-second of Winter, 514A.V.
Three days of hard snowfall and Sunberth was struggling to stay out of a hibernating state. People shuffled between hearth and work, and the poor died. All over the city those without the money to buy thick clothes or firewood were simply freezing to death where they squatted, shivering. Kenneric had seen men carting such blackened bodies away to The Dust Bed from the Sunset Quarters. The macabre scene served to quiet an already dark mood in the city.
The citizens of Sunberth were no strangers to death and violence, or the injustices of the world. But such a silent, all encompassing killer such as winter was about, well… it made a man feel helpless. It certainly made Kenneric feel helpless.
The thin cryptographer did not have much body fat to keep himself warm to start with, and only the recently purchased winter coat to shield him. So he spent much of his time as close to the Pig Foot’s hearth as possible, or else in a bother similarly dry and warm place. He was walking there now, with some haste. Though the snow had finally stopped, an assured blessing from some god or another, it was thick upon the ground.
The white powder clung to the sides of buildings in heaps and thin paths were carved away in the roads where people and draft animals had previously trudged through. The leather of Kenneric’s boots was sopping wet now, and that was a danger also. He hoped he would make it to the Foot in a timely enough fashion to find a place to dry them by a fireplace.
The grey of the sky was pregnant with moisture as the storm hadn’t completely dissipated yet. The threat of the slow falling, beautiful snow was ominous above, but clear skies could be spotted if one looked to the horizon. Kenneric did not, he looked directly in front of him and at the ground occasionally. He was not worried about skies and horizons, he was worried about making it to the Pig’s Foot without falling into a heap of snow.
As he turned down the street and caught sight of the Pig’s Foot he stumbled. The thin man waved his arms out in front of him to stop his face from catching a wash of frigid snow. Carefully, with precise steps, he righted himself and turned to investigate. Something black lay across the foot wide path that wobbled down the street. He bent to look more closely and found it to be a high leather boot.
“What shyking idiot lost his boot out here?” Ken muttered in agitation and embarrassment as he bent to pick it up. It was heavy and when he pulled at it a leg rose out of the snow with it. The limb was stiff and caked with snow. It had been there a while.
Kenneric froze. He had not been expecting that!
“What are you doing with my husband’s foot?” Came a subtle threatening whisper…
Three days of hard snowfall and Sunberth was struggling to stay out of a hibernating state. People shuffled between hearth and work, and the poor died. All over the city those without the money to buy thick clothes or firewood were simply freezing to death where they squatted, shivering. Kenneric had seen men carting such blackened bodies away to The Dust Bed from the Sunset Quarters. The macabre scene served to quiet an already dark mood in the city.
The citizens of Sunberth were no strangers to death and violence, or the injustices of the world. But such a silent, all encompassing killer such as winter was about, well… it made a man feel helpless. It certainly made Kenneric feel helpless.
The thin cryptographer did not have much body fat to keep himself warm to start with, and only the recently purchased winter coat to shield him. So he spent much of his time as close to the Pig Foot’s hearth as possible, or else in a bother similarly dry and warm place. He was walking there now, with some haste. Though the snow had finally stopped, an assured blessing from some god or another, it was thick upon the ground.
The white powder clung to the sides of buildings in heaps and thin paths were carved away in the roads where people and draft animals had previously trudged through. The leather of Kenneric’s boots was sopping wet now, and that was a danger also. He hoped he would make it to the Foot in a timely enough fashion to find a place to dry them by a fireplace.
The grey of the sky was pregnant with moisture as the storm hadn’t completely dissipated yet. The threat of the slow falling, beautiful snow was ominous above, but clear skies could be spotted if one looked to the horizon. Kenneric did not, he looked directly in front of him and at the ground occasionally. He was not worried about skies and horizons, he was worried about making it to the Pig’s Foot without falling into a heap of snow.
As he turned down the street and caught sight of the Pig’s Foot he stumbled. The thin man waved his arms out in front of him to stop his face from catching a wash of frigid snow. Carefully, with precise steps, he righted himself and turned to investigate. Something black lay across the foot wide path that wobbled down the street. He bent to look more closely and found it to be a high leather boot.
“What shyking idiot lost his boot out here?” Ken muttered in agitation and embarrassment as he bent to pick it up. It was heavy and when he pulled at it a leg rose out of the snow with it. The limb was stiff and caked with snow. It had been there a while.
Kenneric froze. He had not been expecting that!
“What are you doing with my husband’s foot?” Came a subtle threatening whisper…
