Eine kalte Hölle
#1
Near the mountain Gottes Kleinigkeit


A harsh winter breeze swept over Grant’s face as he tried to dig.  He knew, after all this time, where it was.  It was here, It was here, It was he- His shovel hit something metallic.  His eyes widened. Could this be it? He thought to himself. He slowly unearthed the box.  He opened it.  There it was. After all this time, he had finally found it.  He couldn’t believe it.  Right there, was the key.  Prophet’s Key. He had found it.  However, before he could process it truly, he heard faint trudging through the snow.  He quickly ducked for cover, shoving the box into his backpack.  It was a group of people, most likely searching for the very thing he had just found.  He unclipped his pistol and turned off the safety. He wasn’t losing it now, not after so many years of suffering and work.  The 3 men spoke to each other in Caskaan.  Grant didn't know much Caskaan, so it was extremely difficult to understand what they were talking about.  However, he could hear the panic in their voice as they saw the hole in the ground.  He saw that they were also armed.  Grant had a small pistol, but he wasn't taking any chances.  He was screwed if they found him.  He heard faint footsteps again. More of them?. He asked himself.  However, that was not the case.  He heard a thick Kanadiaans accent.  He peeked over the rock. It was a squad of EL patrolmen.  He didn’t know what to do.  Should he turn himself in?  Suddenly he heard gunshots and people yelling.  He didn’t think twice. He bolted to his snowmobile, gun drawn.  He started it up and went as fast as he could.  He the bullets fly past him, but he didn't care.   Eventually, he was far enough to where he felt safe and slowed down a bit.  However, he was extremely cold.  The bitter winter breeze had taken a toll on him.  He felt himself shivering.  He needed to find shelter, fast.  He saw a cave up ahead and quickly steered to take shelter in it.  There, he took out his sleeping bag and tried to get some sleep.  



Morning



Grant woke up cold. He quickly climbed out of his sleeping bag and made sure the key was still there. It was.  He then pulled out his map.  Judging from where he was, and how much fuel was left in the Snowmobile, the only place he could make it to was The Eternal City.  Unless he could somehow convince the guards to let him in, he was screwed.  But it was his only option of survival.  So, he started it up, and began his journey.  It was a bit warmer now, but still cold enough where he had to go slower.   Eventually, he arrived at a path leading to the Eternal City.  Right before he took it though, he heard snowmobiles in the distance.  He looked toward them.  It was those damned Caskaans.  He started going as fast as he could towards The Eternal City.  Gunshots whizzed past him as he flew down the snowy path.  Please be close. He prayed.  And his prayers were answered.  The road was there, but the snowmobile couldn't operate on it.  He had to make a stand.  He stopped, ducked behind his snowmobile, and waited for them to catch up.  Soon enough they did, and they didn’t have enough time to process before one of them was shot. He lost control of his snowmobile, which veered right and crashed into the other, sending them flying down the hill they were coming down.  Two down.   The other Caskaan began shooting at him.  Grant was hit in the shoulder, and took cover. Divine Prophet, please save me.  He heard the snowmobile stop, and heavy boots walking up to him.  This is it, goodbye world.  He thought to himself.  He heard the Caskaan stop in front of him.   Bang.


He wasn’t dead.  He looked over his snowmobile, to find that the Caskaan had been shot in the head.  He looked behind him.  There stood a squad of Eternal Legion.  The Sergeant spoke up.  “Come with us, we will take you into the Eternal City where you can then get a ride back to your hometown.  You must be tired and hungry, so come with us.”.   Grant, having no other choice,  Came with them.  On the way, while he was being patched up by a medic, he thought to himself how lucky he was that he wasn’t dead.  He had escaped near death three times now.   As the Medic finished patching him up, he fell asleep.



When he woke up, they were entering the gates to the Eternal City.  It was like going back to times of old.  A massive walled city with a towering cathedral and the Royal Palace, along with many homes where devoted followers of Prophetism resided.  It was breathtaking.  “Can you drop me off at the cathedral? I have something important for the Arch Bishop.”.  “Sure.” The driver said, and soon enough, he was there.  He made sure the key was still there. It was.  He entered the Cathedral, where a few people and the Arch Bishop were praying.  He walked up to the Arch Bishop, his boots making noise across the tiled floor.  The man looked up to him. “Yes, my friend?” The Arch Bishop asked.  “I have something for you. Please, may we have a minute? I have traveled far to get here.”.  Hesitating for a second, The man thought but eventually agreed.  They sat down in a private booth, where Grant unloaded his pack.  “I have searched for it for many years, and after so much time, I have found it.”  He placed the Box in front of the Arch Bishop.  His eyes widened, and he went pale.  The Box had gold roses on it, finished with gold threading.  “I think you know what this is.”.  The Arch Bishop opened it.  There it lay.  Missing for over 60 years.  The Prophet’s Key.  They sat in silence, the Bishop's face in pure awe.  “We must go to the palace immediately. Come.”.  He took the box, and Grant followed.  The Arch Bishop flagged down a Legion Officer, who drove them to the palace.  An Order of The Blue Rose guard stopped them at the checkpoint.  “Arch Bishop, who is this you bring with you?” He asked.  “A man truly devoted to our religion, a man who deserves to have an audience with the Koppenhausens.  “Very well, welcome to the royal palace.” the OBR Guard Responded.



“You sir, are a hero of Alpenraum.”.  The 1st Prince Mauritz exclaimed.  “You have brought back something that many have given up on, a true relic of old times.  Thank you very much.”.  “You will be rewarded very handsomely, and commemorated.” Mauritz took a breath, and continued.” You will be a Templar of the Order of the Blue Rose, and as such given BR5, so you may enter this city.”. “You are being made an Honorary Member of the Royal family, and as such will attend any family meetings or anything of the sort.  “Since my father is on a trip, however, I ask that you write the story of how you found it, in 3rd person. He is the type who loves those kinds of stories.  You may stay at the Palace as long as you wish.”.  “I will, thank you for your kind gestures Prince Mauritz.”. Grant responded.  And so, when he sat down at the laptop in his room he began typing.


A harsh winter breeze swept over Grant’s face...
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Eine kalte Hölle - by Alpenraum - 01-26-2021, 08:37 PM

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