Metrics Of Ragnarok

Scent of Blood

Matthew sighed and took in the horrible scenery.

Nothing was wrong with the clean snow, but that in itself was a problem.

Clean and flat snow usually meant running water underneath, and on this glass-like surface, it told that the thickness was mere inches, maybe less than ten.

If things went south and they had to fight, being careful not to break the ice would be a bigger foe than the enemy.

So with that conclusion, he decided to embark on his journey with very few people. It would have been all Xhosa, but Matthew would never subject his colleagues to carrying the cargo, so he made spaces for a dozen kingdom guards.

The former crew that had been tasked with bringing in the import had died somewhere around the old railways.

That was where the last messenger hawk had come from, but due to the distance in between, the crew must have been at a different location when they received the message.

Still, they wouldn't be too far off, considering that the hawk could travel the distance in a few hours. But nonetheless, to find them would need a bit of searching.

"We'll be back in a day or two at best, if we don't encounter problems," he heard himself telling Gerrard, who would later brief Atlas.

"You definitely will, so don't count on luck."

"I'll hope on it instead."

They both smiled. The journey would have taken a lot less time if they drove, but unfortunately no one knew how to fix cars, making the few dozen in the empty market behind the clinic useless.

"Have you assembled your team?" Gerrard asked.

"I gave them an impromptu letter; a few had things to do, so we are a bit short on people, but that just made it easier to arrange and set off. We are waiting for the two Xhosa I asked to accompany us...and here they come," Matthew said, pointing at the two figures walking towards them.

Like all hardened soldiers of the Groundhog Kingdom, they radiated a calm aura that made the snow seem even colder, or maybe it was just his perception after fighting with them for many years.

And surviving too. Because at the beginning, there had been forty-six Xhosa members, and now, only sixteen remained, but two were sort of inactive members.

They nodded at Gerrard, then bent to help carry a little fraction of the gear they needed, and then started walking.

Soon after, everyone else followed suit.

***

The kingdom had three entries and exits, but one had slowly fallen out of use, so the kingdom guards turned it into an underground traveling system.

It was supposed to go all the way to the Vanity kingdom, but due to how dangerous the building affair was, most people, kingdom guards included, no longer agreed to construct it, even if the payment was fat.

So the tunnel, made from something resembling rubber, had stopped about a third of the way they needed to go. It was closed all the time, so nothing would get through.

But once they climbed out and embraced the snow, they had to face the threats.

A few metres in, they found a boar, and although it wasn't attacking them, they needed food if they were to spend the night, so the kingdom guards unsheathed their blades for the first time.

Definitely, more need for the blades would come.

The journey's path was clear of snowfall, so they didn't have to trudge, greatly reducing their travel time, but the fear of cracking the ice gave the guards an excuse to share the load with the Xhosa members.

Of course, even a weighty man wouldn't be able to break eight inches of ice, but they let it slide.

Before the winters, this place had been a plain field with lots of grass and farms. Matthew would run around with arms spread, touching the crops of farmers.

He could barely remember that.

Strangely.

Since it had been a sort of foundation for his childhood.

After a little more walking, he was able to start making out the figures of certain things the train station had.

Like a massive manual tap, or well, kind of thing, that had stood by the size of the station since before his father was even born.

Then a thin line that seemed to be a broken train. Just like the cars, nobody could fix it, so it remained the way it was.

"We are close," Matthew said, his voice a bit forced.

"Yes, and the day is almost over," replied an Xhosa.

"Sirs, could we please camp at the train station then, since this is the case?"

"Yes, you can," Matthew replied.

He wasn't planning to sleep through the night, but he figured he could let them do so, since they would only be needed to carry the payload back.

Soon, they reached.

The train station wasn't too habitable, with its oil spill smells and mechanical parts that littered the floors, so they decided to stay in the office block used for logistics and the like.

When the trains were active, this was where merchants came to pay carriage prices, and where people bought tickets, so it was naturally habitable, even after the passage of time.

Once the sun disappeared, the lands would be plunged into thick, slightly see-through darkness, so they placed candles in all the office compartments, waiting for the inevitable sundown.

Matthew was waiting too, but not because he had found an "ingenious" way to drive the darkness.

It would be much easier for them to hunt under the cover of night, and not attract unwanted guests.

The earlier crew had decided not to rest or camp here because of the unusually high number of daemons– altered animal counterparts, similar to regular animals, but possessing profane characters– and that fact would need a few of the kingdom guards to stay awake, led by one Xhosa, and watch for attackers.

The other Xhosa, along with Matthew, would go towards the scantily packed plantation at the bottom of the slope and search for signs of passage, to give themselves an actionable hint on where the crew had gone, for them to act on tomorrow.

Sooner than hoped for, the bright shining coward redrew the last of its gold and violet rays, letting the cold and the night take over.

Matthew had already planned with his colleague, so no words were to be said once the time arrived.

They lit a lantern, one able to vanquish darkness back by only a metre. It was bright enough for them not to stumble on anything, but dim enough for stealth.

With a nod, they both stepped out and made for the plantation ahead.

Matthew could already smell the blood...