The Isaern Sentinel
Þrýþ and Þolmódnes!
13th September, 2011.
Þrýþ and Þolmódnes!
13th September, 2011.
- Duke Eadgar Hravn, Ambassador to Lafayette, today embarks on his final journey to the Lafayettien capital with the aims of finalising the Treaty of Colfax, an agreement which will put an official seal on the friendship between our nations. Duke Hravn described the penultimate meeting as "extremely promising".
- King Lauther’s visit to Arawald has been cut short due to severe snowfall around the capital. Over a hundred businesses as well as a significant number of schools have been forced to close in Hravnspir due to the severity of the weather. Meteorologists promise that the end is in sight though and that the Spir may yet see the sun again.
- Duke Aelric Silfor’s bestselling novel ‘Running with the Pack’ has sold over three million copies. The book is based on Duke Silfor's own experiences within the regiment and his ascent into the higher ranks of the exceptionally secretive Silforpyke Greys, the infamous and elite branch of the Isaern military. While offering a rare glimpse into the workings of the regiment, members of the Greys have spoken out against the book claiming that it's misleading and inaccurate. Notorious for their rigorous training regime and extremely high standards, the excerpt below describes an event that the Duke, who was only 17 at the time, supposedly experienced in his third week of “boot camp”
'“I wish it’d stop snowing.” I grumbled, mainly to myself.
There was a short burst of laughter as my comrades took in the stupidity of my statement.
“I don’t think I can remember a time when it wasn’t snowing.” Offa mumbled The large man reclined precariously on a small wooden chair which voiced its concerns with a loud creak. “Have you ever even seen the ground before?” he paused, “I mean, the ground without three feet of snow over it?”
“I have been places, you know.” I snapped with an odd sense of pride, “Haelathwald’s just fields and trees, not that much snow.”
“Posh bastard.” Jaenberht, one of the older recruits, sighed. He sat upright from his bunk and squinted towards the window where I was perched. “I’ve been trying to sleep for nearly an hour and you just won’t shut the fuck up. Go to sleep.”
“It’s too cold for sleep…” I replied quietly, determined to have the last word.
“Never heard such fucking nonsense.” Jaenberht’s shadow buried his head under a pillow.
I woke with a start, knocking the cheap, plastic, battery powered lantern off the table I’d been crouched on. It hit the wooden floor with a hollow thud and rolled into the centre of the cabin, revealing the five sleeping forms of my comrades. None of them stirred.
There was barely enough room for the six of us to stand in the cabin, nevermind sleep. I’d had to fight Offa for my right to use the table as a bed, and I’d ended up sharing with Oswald anyway.
The over-turned lantern flickered for a moment before dying completely. “Piece of shit.” I muttered, trying to adjust my position on the edge of the table.
“Piece of shit?” Offa muttered, “That’s the most advanced piece of equipment they’ve given us!”
I scoffed, “When they told us we’d be coming out here I didn’t expect them to give us the sort of equipment that the army used eighty years ago. Maybe the real mission is not to freeze to de—“ Something suddenly drew my attention outside in the dark.
A moment of silence hung in the air before Offa leant forward and followed my gaze out of the small, frosted over window. “What?”
“Something definitely moved.” I insisted.
“Everything is moving, snow, wind, the trees…”
“Something big, like… Upright.” I quickly said, adamant.
“Probably an Elk, Elks are big.” Offa made fake antlers over his head with his hands and shook his head.
I scowled. “I’m not a moron. Something moved.”
“Hey, don’t get funny with me.”
“I’m not, something moved, trust me!” I urged.
Offa de-antlered himself and rubbed his hands together. “Something probably did move, a tree. Or an—“ Offa’s response was cut short as the rickety wooden door shattered inwards.
A dark mass piled into the cabin, driving his boot into Aldfrith who’d been asleep on the floor and discharging his shotgun into the mass of blankets that was Jaenberht. Offa and I sprung up but Offa dropped straight back down again as a second shot rang out. I leapt across the room for my antiquated rifle but a fist caught me square across the face mid-stride. I slumped over onto Oswald who let out a terrified screech before a second shadow grabbed him by the collar and dragged him out into the snow.
My eyes slowly opened, offering blurry vision at best. My arms and feet were bound and I could tell I was being carried, slung over someone's shoulder. I was wearing a thick sweater and insulated trousers over thermal underwear but in this biting cold I might as well have been naked. “What’s going-“
“Shut up.” A voice I didn’t recognise barked back through the wind.
I squirmed but something heavy struck me across the back. I could hear what sounded like distant conversation but the combined sound of my teeth chattering and the whistling of the wind prevented me from picking out any words. A few moments later I was held out and what I could only assume was some kind of sleeping bag was thrown over me before I slipped into unconsciousness.
I hit the concrete ground hard. “Up.” I recognised the voice as being one of the men that’d taken us during the night.
I struggled to pull myself free of sleeping bag and found myself being helped by Aldfrith and Offa.
“UP.” The voice repeated.
Offa held me upright and attempted to pull me to my feet.
I squinted and blinked repeatedly in an attempt to clear my vision, I could barely see my five team mates stood unsteadily around me. “How?” I whispered weakly.
“Rubber bullets.” Offa whispered back, forcing a smile.
“You have a five minute head start.” The barking of several dogs provided an ominous backdrop for the stranger’s voice. He was tall, taller than Offa, and wearing what I, at the time, refused to recognise as the uniform of the Silforpyke Greys. He wore a heavy black officer’s overcoat, with a wolf pelt slung around his shoulders, and the faceplate of his helmet bore the countenance of a stylised skull. “Five minutes and we let the dogs loose.”
“Hurry!” Jaenberht yelled as shot towards the doorway, one of the double doors was broken off its hinges revealing a long corridor. From what my compromised mental situation could gather, it looked like we were in some sort of unused military base, or perhaps a hospital. The walls were painted a pale green but in numerous places the paint had peeled away to reveal concrete. Before I’d even attempted to make my legs move Offa had dragged me half way down the corridor. Oswald trailed behind, sobbing quietly.
Jaenberht led us, no one argued. All of the doors we came across were barred or bolted shut apart from just one, after what seemed like hours of trying to navigate the damned place we came across a door with “Safe” scrawled on the door in red paint.
“Do you reckon they’re waiting with dogs in there?” Ethelwin stuttered.
“We’re probably fucked either way.” Jaenberht replied with a grim laugh before pushing the door open. It was dark inside, literally pitch black, and I couldn’t even start to describe the stench that emanated from it. Jaenberht disappeared inside and with none of his confidence (or perhaps it was apathy) the rest of us followed. The doors swung themselves shut behind us and everything was bathed in darkness.
We must have been about three metres in when there was a terrific splashing noise and Jaenberht let out an enraged yell. Oswald was the last to fall in, signalled by his intensified sobbing.
“It’s fucking blood!” I remember Offa laughing incredulously.
“Neck deep in blood or eaten by dogs.” Jaenberht added.
I held onto the ledge of what I assumed was a repurposed swimming pool, after a brief attempt at pulling myself out I gave up. Exhausted, I just floated. The pool wasn’t just blood, it was filled with chunks of offal and God knows what else and it was oddly warm. I remember Aldfrith whispering, half in jest, “It’s okay if you shit yourself, no one will know.”’
(I got carried away, sorry.)