Something New

I've had a hard time lately coming up with something to blog about. I've looked at others and saw that they've done stories that they just add to each time and I thought I'd try something like that. This is my attempt to create some interesting story. It was bitterly cold. The vicious winter storm had tumbled over the mountains like the end of a river cascading down a waterfall. It had come quickly and with tremendous sound. The wind that whipped past the tall evergreen trees, threatening to knock them down, brought a sound which made Tarin wonder if the top of the mountain had broken off and was sliding down the slopes towards him. He heard a sound from his right. Merick was yelling as loud as he could to him, but he couldn't make himself over the sound of the wind. Merick gave up and started forward again, motioning for Tarin to follow him. They still had a long ways to travel. The pass in which they were traveling by horse was winding and treacherous. Tarin's own mount had stumbled frequently in holes and over rocks that were hidden by the snow. Tarin looked up again as he heard Merick trying to tell him something. He was pointing at something. To Tarin's left was a space carved out of the side of the mountain that was shielded from the onslaught of the storm. It wasn't quite deep enough to be considered a cave, but it was large enough to house Tarin, Merick, and both of their horses. Tarin nodded to Merkick and started pushing a path through the powder towards the inviting cover of the "cave". He quickly dismounted once out of the snow and lead his horse to the back of the cave. He turned to see Merick doing the same. "I can't wait until we get back to Therald's Hold so I can chew Carter out for this," Merick grumbled. A week ago, Merick and Tarin had set out to find an artifact that had supposedly been hidden in the ruins of a decrepit monestary high up in the Algion Mountains. When Tarin and Merick had arrived at the described place they found nothing but a few broken pillars and knocked over walls. There had been nothing of significance whatsoever there. The week of traveling through rough land had been for nothing. With heavy hearts, Tarin and Merick had begun the return journy. That was five days ago. The tempest had slowed them considerably, lengthening their trip substantially. What had been planned as a two week endevour was now turning into a three week one. They weren't even half-way home. Tarin watched as Merick attempted to make a fire. Merick's cold finger's fumbled over his tools. There was a spark and a small flame appeared in front of the two weary adventurers. As Merick put away his tinderbox, Tarin worked to keep the fire alive. He added small sticks and twigs to it and saw the flame grow a little larger. "That's not going to last long unless we can get some more wood," said Merick. "Look for some under the juniper and pine trees; it should be dry there," he added as Tarin left to search for fuel to feed the fire. The biting wind slashed at his face as he re-entered the storm. He saw a large pine tree with low branches not far up the slope opposite of their camp and began moving towards it. The heavy branches laden with snow dropped their load on Tarin as he pushed past them. The sudden weight on his shoulders and head surpised him and he stepped back tripping over the tree's roots. He landed on his back in the knee high snow looking up at the white sky. After struggling to get back up, he shoved his way back through the stiff foliage and began hacking at the dry, dead branches in the inner part of the tree with his hatchet. With armfuls of the dry fuel, Tarin made his way back to where Merick was waiting. He saw Merick grinning at him as he dropped the wood by the cave wall. He glared back and sat down on the ground next to Merick. Merick had unsaddled the horses and pulled out the sack that contained their meal for that night: a half loaf of bread and a few strips of venison. Merick took out a small pan from the saddlebags and began to fry the meat. Tarin ate a broken roughly torn piece of bread as Merick tried not to burn the rest of their meal. When the meat was done, they sat down to eat. "What do you think Carter wanted us to get?" asked Merick. "I don't know," replied Tarin. "He just called it an 'artifact.'" "Well I hope it was worth sending us through all of this," Merick said waving his hand at the storm. After slowly eating their small meal with frozen fingers, they laid out their bedrolls between the tied-together horses and the fire. The slowly dying fire cracked and popped as the red-yellow flames ate at the sap in the wood. They both still wore their heavy cloaks as they pulled the rough wool blankets over themselves. Tarin slowly closed his eyes while following the path of the falling precipitation. He wrapped his hood over his eyes and ears and fitfully fell asleep.