Shadow on the Ice in Quanta | World Anvil
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Shadow on the Ice

This story was written for Tale Foundry's Writing Group. The prompt was "A Fleeting Glimpse" and I figured this region was best suited for a story like this one, all the worldbuilding behind it was a ton of fun to do. Thanks to Tale Foundry for the prompt.
Servus, Battle shaman. If it wasn’t for your position, I’d be pleased to greet you. ‘Specially here out of all places.” Serjyo grumbles while putting a parchment aside.   The proud dark gray dragoness steps through the hut’s curtains “Servus Icetongue”.   He sighs, annoyed “I never liked that title, I'm just a glorified babysitter who sweet talks the Alfa into not going to war all the time, or worse” His bone-white wings tighten.  Sheesh, you’re usually not this frank.” She says while dragging a stool next to the pale orange dragon. “How did the hunt go?”.  Prowlers got 5 stags and a moron killed a doe.” He feels eyes piercing the back of his neck. “Any rumors? Apart from Frostfangs raiding a week earlier”.   With one of her black claws, she scratches behind her ear “Bad auguries all over. Is been said that a Pilgrim been wandering in the area”.   Serjyo gulps and lets her continue “No one’s sure if it’s a dark one”.    They mean trouble either way”. He sighs “First the dead doe, the early raids, you being summoned without notifying me beforehand, a Pilgrim is the last thing we need”.   Her eyes widen “The Alfa didn’t tell you?! Forgetting to consult with his Icetongue first, unwise. Anyway, I should go”. The shaman starts getting up.  Please talk him out of raiding anyone, we're not ready yet.” He pleads; meanwhile, darkness creeps up on the corner of his sight.   She holds the curtain with her front paw. “You know I can’t, it’s not my position to do so. Cold winds under your wings my friend”. She says and walks away from the hut.  You too Trymer.” He whispers.     His snout picks up an unfamiliar scent and a gloomy mist flows around his stool. Turns and hits legs of the table with his tail which earns a pained grunt from him.   With a tight muzzle, he looks up into the blackness and 2 bright orange eyes bleeding into the dark stare back at him.   He blinks in fear. “What the… “ He whispers while staring at the empty clay wall.
--I'll draw cover art for this story soon--

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