They made it there fine and met with their quite dedicated and extensive staff who were hard at work sorting and counting. And they did, in fact, find that their king was pocketing the court’s funds, after hours and hours of record checking.

But what they lost track of was the weather. And soon they were all snowed in. No one could reach them and it wasn’t long before they ran out of food.

After days turned into weeks, they realized that there was only one way they could survive the ordeal. And they took it, half conspiring to eat the other, not realizing it would transform them into bloodthirsty abominations.

It took them almost no time at all to dig their way out and slowly pick away at the peaceful kingdom. And it was long before anyone figured out how to kill them. But once they had, days were spent hunting the Wendigo and herding them back into their bunkers and nights were for defending against their assaults.

Through one act they became monsters, beasts of pure hunger and rage. And no one could stand against them. Only the walls could hold them off, and even they looked cracked and worn away in spots. Things could tip badly soon.

“Except, we’ve received a new batch of reinforcements,” said Sam with a somber grin as he smacked Campbell on the back.

“Well, we’ll have to hold them at the wall,” I said, trying to keep everyone focused on the immediacy of the problem. “If we don’t, if they make it through, they’ll tear the village apart.”

“Our situation is dire, yes,” said one of Sam’s younger lieutenants named Bruce, “but our blacksmiths make just as many swords as door handles. The old ones rust away, but are quickly replaced. A Wendigo moves much slower without legs.”

The proficiency of their blacksmiths aside, I had an idea forming.

“You have extra blades on hand? Lots of them?”

“You’ll be equipped with your share of weapons and armor soon enough,” said Sam.

“No, I have a better way to use them. But it’ll take a lot of blades.”