Morning Three
The snowstorm had subsided a bit and the men were still sheltered behind the mountain.
The Adventurer exited his tent, where he was joined by a sleepy Halberdier. "Could you perhaps summon the men for me? That way we might yet make use of your loudness." The Halberdier nodded.
"EVERYONE AWAKEN! TIME TO MOVE! GO GO GO!"
The Adventurer grumbled "Somebody do me a head count.".
The Maceman started counting the people, as they exited their tents and packed for today's march. He quickly came to a pleasant surprise; there were no people missing, and none of them had been murdered during the night. "Sir, they're all still here! Seems like everyone has survived the night!"
With no further deaths to lie heavy on the men's minds, breakfast was actually quite a pleasant affair that morning. Apart from the few people that still ate in obstinate silence, the men were all in an excited buzz whether the attacks had stopped and they would all get home safely, save for the unfortunate deaths of the Captain, the Battlemaster and the Druid. All in all, breakfast was eaten quickly and the men were ready to leave considerably faster than they were the last day.
"Mood's up a bit, sir." the Sharpshooter said to the Adventurer. "But unless I'm mistaken, it's going to be down again in a few minutes."
"How so?" the Adventurer responded.
The Sharpshooter pointed at the sky, his face set in an unmistakable frown. Dark clouds were closing in on the Company fast.
Ten minutes later, they were caught in a hailstorm. The Company went on their way as before, but there was a considerable lot more swearing among the men, ill-tempered at the weather.
The thread is open for posting again. Night falls in 48 (EDIT = This is now 72) hours!
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