Ain't Cutting no Ice [Gin/Alain/Mami/Jack Mitchell]

[Alain the Carnedge]

The mercenary pointed Gin towards the remaining bed and merely leaned against the cave's wall, close enough to the entrance to jump somebody if they tried to come in. Gin didn't seem to complain and took the opportunity to get some rest. Alain almost never got tired, which seemed incredibly bizarre to most people. To him, only natural. Mercenary work can involve days of tracking people who stole some stuff or something similar, and sleep just allowed the targets to find more places to hide, or give them longer to run. Eventually, he got used to days and days of no rest, and the corruption only seemed to help with that. Though if it came to it, he'd sleep on the floor if necessary.

Alain took a few moments (that means an hour or two) to look through the Dataverse and use his Omnilium for something. Wasn't exactly much else to do, and it was best to keep someone on guard just in case a troll came by. So, he did what he needed to: summoning a drink.
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Urist and his men marched down the mountain path, disregarding the chill as if the blizzard was just an average day in the Frozen Fields...probably because it was. Their armor rattled with every step they took, making it sound like a metal elephant was dancing in the snow. "Oi, Urist! When're we findin' that dragon, eh? Ahd hope we din't come up here for nothin'!" One of the dwarves yelled, just slightly drunk. Urist gritted his teeth and turned to face his comrade. "Stop askin' already, I don't know! I'll buy ye a damn drink if it's not round here, 'aight!?" The dwarf scowled and continued marching up the mountain path, keeping eyes open for the beast.

It was then the group heard a guttural snarl, and in that moment they knew their target was close; and it knew where they were. The dwarves readied their battleaxes, swords and hammers in preparation for the inevitable fight. Despite the dwarves being...well, dwarves, they all looked around nervously. Saying that dragon hunting was a dangerous business would be an understatement. Every member of the party took a while to look around. There weren't that many places for a dragon to hide, was there? Except the sky...everyone looked up, but the blizzard had practically killed their vision.

Though it seemed the dwarven party weren't the only ones out for dragonbone. Trolls emerged from the snow, screaming, swinging their weapons wildly, and taunting the dwarves in anticipation for the upcoming slaughter. The dwarves had only one thing to say in return. "FOR DWARFHOLM!" The men yelled, rushing towards the trolls fearlessly. Blood flew through the air as steel met flesh, and bodies fell to the ground in mere seconds. Some were still alive but too wounded to continue, others recovered and attempted to continue the fight, only to get put down almost immediately by the boot of a troll or the axe of a dwarf.

Urist, as the assigned leader of the Dwarf party, found himself crushing various troll limbs with gigantic swings from his hammer, with assistance from his fellows. He swung his warhammer overhead which happened to connect with the skull of an unlucky troll, who fell like a rock. Another band of dwarves managed to overwhelm the troll leader, planting an axe into his neck. The troll writhed in pain for a second before falling, at which point a very angry troll crushed the dwarf with his own axe before fleeing. The dwarves started to advance with weapons in hand, the shieldbearers covering advancing to protect their fellows from any thrown axes. The trolls didn't like it, but they started to pull back.The dwarfish heads they'd claimed were enough for now.

A shadow passed over the battlefield.

The dragon dropped from the sky, with emerald scales that looked almost crystalline, and landed with a crash. Either side could only look up in awe, their battle forgotten for a single moment. They were slightly less awed when it let out an earsplitting roar and started to breathe fire, engulfing the entire mountain path in a sea of flame Trolls and dwarves alike screamed in terror and pain despite their usual nature. Some even hurled themselves off the cliff and into the ocean in hopes that they might survive the flame. Ones that did not attempt to escape learned why a dragon was to be feared; the beast devoured a dwarf whole, then slashed at the remaining fighters, and the mere movement sent snow and ice at both parties. The trolls had gotten out of the way, but the dwarves weren't so lucky, and a few of them flew off the mountain and into the frozen ocean below. With a scowl, Urist ordered a retreat. The dragon breathed flame so fierce it felt like they were already dead, but After all had perished or fled, the dragon ate the corpses of the dead before a Wampa could come by, then took flight again and disappearing into the blizzard.