Hunter Or Huntress

'Maybe I was a bit quick to dismiss Rachuck's concerns about cabin fever.' All told they had been stuck within the walls for weeks before the storm had rolled in, forcing the others into hibernation.

And now it was just the two of them and the wind, three days of howling without stop. The keep had officially been downgraded to below a Danish prison. Most of the time was spent in isolation, too. Rachuck could keep himself busy with herding snails, so with all the responsibilities of keep the keep safe from nothing it was all he could do to spare the hours to help Tom out a little.

That or the captain would rather walk frozen corridors than paint, which was a distinct possibility. But that left Tom alone with all the work. He didn't mind for a bit, but seeing another person was always nice. He had made bricks, gears, shafts, and even a little drum for the string so he could make the big door to the greeting hall for his makeshift Lego wooden Lego keep. It was coming together beautifully, but he was not feeling quite so accomplished.

He didn't know why; it was all he was doing sans the painting and finishing. And he had been alone with work for so much longer before. Back home with a remote job he might not see another person for weeks save for popping to the shops. It had never bothered him that badly.

But now, here? He'd been swamped with more people for the last 10 months than he would normally be able to endure, let alone enjoy being around. And now he felt so… empty. No children running around, getting in the way. No one being baffled by what he was doing, or looking hilarious as he showed off a new thing. No one to cuddle up with under the sheets after a long day… even if she snored.

He missed it, he missed the noise, the buzz, the activity. All the hard work hadn't seemed so bad. But now, it was just a mountain of work in a cold dark prison, while the storm whistled at him in perpetuity. Truthfully, if not for his watch and Rachuck keeping tabs on if there was light outside or not, he might not have a clue if it was night or day right now.

He needed more to do, something else, something not machining wood all day long, his brain on autopilot as he had to concentrate about doing the same cut for the hundredth time. What he would not give for automove on the mill for making those things. Or gods above a CNC mill.

He had drawn up plans for a pasta maker only to realize there was no way he was getting it done without casting something, which wasn't gonna happen right now. However he did remember seeing someone doing pasta by hand on what looked like a ribbed cutting board. He had shivered at the thought of making pasta for 40 people one by one, but perhaps there was another way.

'Spaghetti could just be rolled out, cut and dried, much easier… I wonder if the chickens are still laying eggs in winter?... I'll have to ask Rachuck. I guess it would still work without, but egg pasta is best pasta.'

He didn't know where the Captain was at the moment, likely either on patrol or painting wooden blocks down in the workshop, and Tom didn't feel like going to find the man.

"Something else, what else do I need to do? Shit right the valve, don't want someone's face melted off." While unable to sleep last night, listening to the screaming wind, he had realized he messed up on the throttle valve for the steam engine; the old design might be dangerous if the seals weren't good enough, and knowing how it was gonna be made, it was probably best to account for that.

"Don't wanna go get the original, just gonna start over, gonna need notches for the clip-on plate anyway," he muttered to himself as he got out a fresh sheet of the paper they had acquired from the capital. It wasn't on par with the stuff from home, but it worked fine. It was smooth enough to keep a fine line and so he got to work once more.

It wasn't a complicated part, nor a particularly large redesign. He was just adding a small metal plate made from copper or brass that would deflect any steam leaking from the valve stem away from the operator. It would look like you were about to blow up, and it might singe your hand, but you wouldn't end up getting your face burned by 200-degree steam, which was quite crucial in Tom's book.

Normally, you wouldn't design around the idea that the valve would leak, but anything for such high pressures was always a bit tricky. Especially when twine and tar was about the best sealing material available. It wouldn't be superheated steam of course, since they wouldn't get close to those kinds of pressures. But still, it could burn someone quite badly if the seal let go.

And so he worked away, only talking to himself a little bit, nothing more than the usual amount. Or so he convinced himself. Not accounting for inquisitorial interference naturally. The storm would not last forever, at least it should calm down for a little at some point, and then perhaps they could have a look to see how things were looking outside. Tom feared the worst, but even if there was snow up to the roof of the chicken coop they would be able to go get firewood. He was rather more concerned with how to get his hands on that damn Christmas tree. That would be a long and arduous trip in the cold of winter even with minimal snow, and he very much doubted that was the case. The quad would have no hope in snow any more than a foot deep, and he hardly had the time to turn it into a homemade snowmobile. Nor did he wish to venture out with a diy untested snowmobile alone into an alien winter wonderland.

"Worst comes to pass I'll make one out of scrap wood or something… Not like I have decorations either." He had pondered that particular problem, and they did have some stuff for celebrations at the keep, garlands and the like. He could likely work something out with what they had including the leftovers from the summer festival perhaps. Bend a star out of leftover copper wire and dangle some shiny baubles from the workshop as ornaments.

As he pondered, the wind emphasized its role to play by howling around corners of the stone keep. Even through the solid granite it was a distinctly annoying sound, but it served well enough to remind Tom that being outside right now would not be enjoyable.

'Maybe the wind will die down later… if not I guess Rachuck can go get some wood by himself like he used to do before I came stumbling through the front door.'

Then there was an odd sound from outside. It sounded almost like a thump. Like someone dropped a sack of sand or something. Tom looked up and glanced toward the greeting hall. It was probably just snow sliding off the roof and hitting the platform. But it had to be quite a bit of snow. There were two thick walls between him and the platform, not to mention the entire greeting hall.

'Perhaps we'll need to think about clearing the roof at some point? Gotta ask Rachuck… actually, there ain't no way they built this place believing someone would go shovel the roof, gotta be fine as is. Might even help out, extra insulation and all that, igloo style.'

Tom chuckled a bit to himself at the thought of Jacky and maybe Sapphire huddled up inside a snow shelter, trying to keep warm. Technically that should work. He had never tried it, but from what he remembered, it could get quite cozy inside one. Maybe that was something to try later, building a snow shelter. Surely that wouldn't end up with him buried under a pile of snow alone and with no hope of rescue, let alone being found for months.

'I can't remember if it's all about body heat. I suppose a small fire could substitute well enough. Thick blankets and puffy jackets only buy time for them after all. Maybe it could work.' Of course Rachuck was different, with his magic wearing a jacket actually made some sense. When he was on his little walk about, he wore the same sort of clothes Sapphire and the girls had worn when they flew to the capital.

For them it was about fighting the wind chill, for Rachuck it was all about preserving that precious heat so he could go longer before running back to a warmer place.

'And to think the guy did this completely alone year after year. No wonder he is a bit special. Lucky me he's no Kullinger,' Tom chuckled as he let out a sigh, the pencil scribbling away. The paper was a little stiff and liked to get condensation on it which would freeze and make the pencil marks not stick properly, which was always annoying. If it got much colder maybe he would actually start having problems with using said paper at all.

It wasn't any more than five below celsius right now, so not exactly a hard frost, but even so for the inside it was fairly cold. He was still quite comfortable in his thick winter gear, snug undershirt and pants included. He couldn't actually remember if Jacky had seen him in just those. Yes, he had a feeling she would laugh her ass off when she did. It was hardly a flattering look, after all.

He wasn't worried about that. Worst that could happen was him needing to retreat to the kitchen by the fires, but in his thick winter clothes that was actually too warm, and he needed them to walk his rounds comfortably.

And if it got truly frostpunk levels of cold Rachuck could always turn in and then Tom could take over sentry duties, even if it would mostly just be him huddling around a fire all day pondering pieces of Lego which may be created from wood and metal.

Boom Boom Boom

The thoughts of Lego, valves, fires, and fuel stores were washed away as he looked to the cold wall glistening with a rime of water crystals like the inside of a mostly clean freezer.

"What in the?"

Boom Boom Boom, it sounded again. Someone was knocking. Someone was out here, and it was definitely not Rachuck. Had Jarix woken up? It didn't sound like how Tom imagined it would if the 8 ton dragon decided he wanted in the doggy door. And it definitely wasn't Yldril.

In this kind of weather? A night terror maybe? Or more likely a white dragon.

"Fuck," Tom cursed under his breath, getting up, gaze flicking between the two sets of stairs. Did he go up or down? His equipment was upstairs, Rachuck was probably below. 'Best get him,' he concluded, setting off at a sprint down towards the kitchen.

That turned out to be a miscalculation as he slipped upon the wooden floors long since coated in moisture and frozen over. He had plenty of time to protect his head as he fell at half speed, still landing with a thunk before getting back up. "God fucking dammit, right right no claws no spikes, fucking hell."

He clumsily got back up, staggering back off with a freshly bruised shoulder. "Fucking ice, fucking snow, god fucking dammit."

He did not make it far down the stairs before he heard footsteps below, soon seeing Rachuck coming up the other way as fast as he could.

This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

"Someone is at the big door," Tom just broke out as the captain slowed but a touch, Tom changing course to follow the captain, who was still moving much faster than he.

"So it would seem, why are you here, go get your things! Are they breaking down the door?"

"No just sounds like they are knocking," Tom replied as he tried to keep up, Rachuck seemingly not slowing down for him, so he picked up the pace to at least not get left behind completely as the captain made for the door leading to the greeting hall.

"Well they will have to wait. If they made it here they can survive the cold a little longer. Why are you following me? Go get your things, immediately. I shall be here," Rachuck scolded, Tom half-skidding to a stop and then changing directions.

"Right, sorry, on it." Tom did feel a little dumb, but without much grace he made it to the stairs leading up and thundered up them as quickly as he could manage, only slipping twice and knocking one knee, cursing the rest of the way.

The knocking sounded again. This time four blows, faster paced. Someone really wanted inside. He could not blame them, the weather was terrible. He really hoped the answer of who's there was a white dragon. Even if it was that, it might be another Yldril situation. 'Best bring grenades too. I think we still got some of the old ones sitting around.'

---

"Open the gate man, someone. This isn't funny," the quite young-sounding female voice called out. The desperation was palpable, but they had both agreed it could well be a ruse, a trick to make them open up.

Tom and Rachuck had decided to hide behind two empty crates that had been left in the greeting hall to set up a crossfire against the door leading to the storm outside and their two supposed guests.

"I demand to know who you are and what brings you to our keep at a time like this," Rachuck challenged, not giving an inch to the young woman.

"I already told you, I'm Elsara and he's Niko, please, man, it's fucking windy out here."

"Yes indeed, more to the point, how are you even talking? I know of no dragonette who could brave such a storm and live."

"Look it's a long story, okay? I promise I'll tell you everything, but my wings are frozen shut; you gotta let us in."

"And what if there are more of you? Even if there aren't, you have a dragon. If we open this gate, we stand no chance against you."

"I could just break it down, man, but I'd rather not you know. It's a nice door. And it was such a long way to get here I'm tired as hell ma- oh sorry sir. Like I couldn't see shi- uhm… anything since we made the island, we were supposed to have been here days ago. If we hadn't found your rock before the storm rolled in I don't know what we would have done." The voice was certainly male, and it did sound a little like Jarix only smaller… quite a lot smaller, to Tom's ears, though it could just be the door muffling what was being said.

"Died, Niko. We would have died."

"My point stands, why are you here? We were not expecting anyone and in my experience, those who go seeking sleeping keeps are not there for pleasantries," Rachuck countered, not showing any sign of backing down.

"We're winter traders, man, going around with stuff people always forget for winter, like uhm… I got some coal, uhm, liquor, blankets, a cool hat. Some tea."

"We'll even give you a discount just open the fucking door, please," Elsara added pleadingly. "We're new to this, and it's not been a great winter, okay. This was supposed to be easy money."

"It is, if one knows what they are doing. Liquor, who would be running out of food and fuel but still wish to buy such luxuries?"

"Well that was for someone who was maybe not having such a bad winter," the dragon replied. He was sounding a lot less concerned than the woman, but Tom supposed it made some sense, he was likely not even that uncomfortable right now. In contrast, she should have been dead a long time ago. "Maybe you'd rather have that?"

"We are well stocked on luxury items as well; we are not lacking."

"All this work and braving a fucking storm, and they won't even let us in the fucking door," Elsara cursed as they heard her kick the door. "Fucking unbelievable, the last 5 keeps no one has bought anything, nothing, what so fucking ever. Just go a bit further out, oh we already got what we needed. Hey hey, listen to this; there is this one keep out in the middle of bum fuck nowhere, They ordered tons of shit, got dragons flying back and forth just for them. Surely they would want something. But nooo. They are well stocked, don't need anything we got. ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME!"

There was silence for a moment, the howling of the wind hanging in the air before the dragon spoke up, sounding quite cautious.

"Hey, uhm, sir, you got any idea if someone else here might wanna buy something? Also, I hope you won't mind if I hunt in your forest a bit, I promise I'll like do it; not right here."

"Don't bother, if they won't even open the door why should we care whether they say we can pitch a tent or not. Come on Nik, let's just go," the woman said, her tone switched from outrage to defeat.

Tom and Rachuck spared each other a glance; if it was an act it was a damn good one. Tom could feel the defeat in the woman's voice.

"Elsa, come on, we can't see shit in this weather. We only found them 'cause of the light from the windows, come on now," the dragon tried, possibly in vain. "We can just camp here 'till it's over, then we'll just go to the next one."

"There is only one other keep on the island. And one ruin," Tom then called out, joining the conversation. "And they don't have the money to afford you."

"Aww shucks," the dragon replied, stamping in the snow once. "Oh well, just gotta go to the next island over, people do this stuff all the time, gotta be someone who needs to buy something."

The woman's response was much quieter this time, hard to hear. She sounded sad, though. Sad and defeated.

Tom looked to Rachuck pleadingly, gesturing at the door. The captain shook his head vehemently. So Tom got up and walked over so they could have a whisper in secret, with the door and the storm the dragon probably wouldn't hear.

"Come on man, just a couple kids freezing their asses off and down on their luck, don't you think?"

"Why in heaven and hell would a pair of teenagers be out here playing trader in this weather? It is obviously a trick, or an illusion, an ambush or some such."

"Dude, you said it yourself, they got a dragon. They can just smack the door down if they want in."

"Not swiftly enough to avoid retaliation, and they know it. And what if there is no dragon at all, what if it is a witch casting illusions? Did you remember to think of that?"

"Eh, I mean why though? Couldn't she just pry her way inside and wreak havoc? Those shutters are hardly darkling proof."

"They will hold the enemy at bay long enough and be sufficiently loud to break to alert us to their presence."

"I don't buy it man. Why don't I just go have a look?"

"Have you completely lost your mind? This door is not opening for anyone. Understood?"

"Right… Hey Niko!" Tom called out, standing tall and walking up close to the door, hoping he would make himself heard better in case they were already leaving.

"Yeah, what's up? You sound funny, anyone ever tell you that?"

"Plenty. I got a question, you been in the capital lately?"

"Uhm… no?" the dragon replied, seeming confused, possibly weighing if he should lie or not.

"Right… shit." Tom had hoped he could ask a question or two that a witch would definitely not know yet, namely about the lighters and pencils and such. "Uhm… Right, that kind of threw a wrench in my plans."

"Shit me too, we weren't counting on that storm, like at all. It's been really nasty. Elsa had to knock the ice off one of my eyes once so I could see something. We hit some rain, which didn't make sense. It was way too cold for rain, but then when it hit me it worked out it should have been ice all along… and then I couldn't see anything and my wings went stiff, so we kinda had to land, that sucked."

"You seem quite nonchalant about all this, flown through many storms?"

"Oh yeah, been to loads of places they say you can't go, but not much money in exploring. Plus there was that whole curse thing. So we wanted to try trading, it's uhm…"

"It's been shit!" Elsa joined in, a bit of fire back in her voice. "And we suck at it."

"It's our first trip," the dragon offered, in a kinder tone. "But it sure has been a lot of flying for not much. We sold flaked grain a few keeps back for 3 silver, oh and some salt. But that's about it. We'll get better."

"And we spent all our fucking money to buy this stuff."

"We didn't have that much money, so that's not so bad," the dragon offered, trying to appease the young woman.

"God dammit, Nik. That's not a good thing."

"Right you two, stay put would you? I'm coming out, just to see for myself," Tom interrupted them, feeling quite confident there was no real danger present.

"You sure? It's a storm out here."

"Oh don't worry, I'm gonna be just fine, no wings and tail to freeze off," Tom joked, already seeing their dumbstruck faces before him.

"You poor fucker," the woman replied, genuine pity in her voice.

"Oh it's not so bad. But keep in mind, trick me, and this old goat will slay the lot of you, wouldn't be the first dragon who's fallen here after all. And there are two sleeping beneath you as well."

"Oh," the rather surprised reply came from the male voice, sounding like he just concluded he had made a mistake.

"Wait, is this a fortress? We thought it was a keep," Elsara shouted out, evidently quite surprised as well.

"Welcome to Bizmati Keep; now I'll be out shortly," Tom replied with a grin, turning to Rachuck, who seemed just about ready to smack him over the head with his blade before he did something stupid.

"What? You still think it's all a trap?"

"Yes," Rachuck replied through gritted teeth, keeping his voice low.

Tom walked up closer so they could put their heads together in whisper. "Look, even if it wasn't a storm out there, sending them on their way would be a death sentence, no?"

"For the dragon most likely not, for the woman yes, but she should have been dead a long time ago," the captain replied.

"Maybe she's got magic like yours or something," Tom tried. He didn't believe this talk that it was utterly impossible. He remembered Joelina's experiences after all. It wasn't as if she had made it to the fortress in the north using any inquisitorial gimmicks or magics, only a white dragon and quality winter wear.

"I would have been dead, too, flying in such weather."

"No you wouldn't,and she isn't the one flying anyway now is she?"

"And since when did you become an expert in dragonette survival in winter conditions?" Rachuck responded, irritation building.

"Well since Joelina showed me how it's done," Tom went, tapping the side of his head. "She flew to a far northern fortress in a winter storm as well. On white dragonback. All she had was warm clothes, some heating lamps, and a sort of… I guess a tent of sorts? For the back of a dragon. Who knows? Maybe those two got one too, or like a cocoon for her to be in. You said yourself, white dragons trade in winter. Do they go alone?"

"Usually, yes… But there are exceptions from what I hear," the captain finally relented. "But in such weather, no one would ever brave it."

"No one who knows what they are doing. For Pete's sake Rachuck they sound like kids who messed up. Don't go around signing death warrants if we don't have to. Let me go have a look."

"Your recklessness knows no bounds."

"Fight for something worth fighting for, old man, that means taking a risk or two for the sake of others."

Rachuck just narrowed his eyes at the human. "It is not just you who you are risking."

"Oh for god's sake, you got grenades and a gun, if it comes to that ambush and blow them to hell. You know the drill."

"Yes, I designed it."

"Along with me, now, shall we get to it?"

"I suppose I have failed to convince you otherwise."

"Guys if it helps I could stick an arm under the door, prove I'm white you know, just have to open the gate a little," the dragon then offered from outside. They both snapped to look at the door. "Oh sorry, was I not supposed to hear that?"