Bow clutched tight in hand, Aullia rushed to the palisade wall. The snowfall, which had begun as a few flurries was now a heavy snow storm, blanketing the sylvan glade and chilling the defenders on the parapets with blasts of icy wind straight from the frozen northern wastes. All knew what that meant: the great enemy had come once again. Soon the village would be under attack.
Shivering against the chill, Aullia poked her head over the wall. The young elf maiden was short as the manlings reckoned, but about average height a wood elf with their typical slender build. Her smooth, soft skin was a light nut brown, her short curly hair a darker shade of the same color.
The elf maiden wore a long tunic, over which she’d hastily donned a corselet of bronze scale armor and high buckskin boots. Over her shoulders was a dark green cloak patterned to match the foliage of spring, though it stood out now, amid the all encompassing white of the unseasonable snow. Like the rest of the militia, Aullia was armed with a short bow of yew wood. She had a quiver slung across her back, holding a score of arrows. As a backup, for when the arrows ran out or the enemy closed the distance, Aullia had a short, leaf-bladed sword belted at her side.
Out beyond the wall, the landscape had been suddenly transformed from late summer to winter. High snowbanks piled up around the bases of the trees while above their limbs groaned under the weight of the snow collecting in the branches. The small brook which ran past the village was already frozen solid. And yet more snow fell from the sky in great gusts which blew about on the chill wind. No manling could have seen five yards through the flurries which blew directly into Aullia’s face, but the elf maiden’s large, keen golden eyes quickly spotted movement, among the frozen trees, approaching quickly.
“Here they come!” She shouted, her cry of warning being echoed all along the wall’s northern face. With the rest, she drew her first arrow from the quiver and set it to string, holding it loose for the moment, till their targets drew out into the open. They didn’t have to wait long.
Scant moments after Aullia’s shout, the first of the ice golem burst from the trees. They were tall, horrifying constructs of ice and snow. Their bodies were formed of three round segments, like that of some grotesquely huge, frozen insect. They had no legs Aullia could see, the bottom of the largest round segment merging with the snowbanks they glided through with startling speed, kicking ice flurries of glinting ice crystals. In the middle section, gnarled branch arms extended out, razor sharp twig-like fingers grasping with eagerness to seize helpless elves. At the top, crude faces grimaced, black coal eyes blazing with eldritch fury while below icy maws bellowed freezing breath which could freeze a foe solid in a single gust.
Despite the fiercesome sight, Aullia and the other defenders remained resolute. They had faced these ice and snow golem before and knew their weakness. The elf maiden drew her bow, sighting along the shaft of the arrow to the nearest ice golem. She paused half a moment to let out her breath and released the arrow. It flew true, striking just above the horrid thing’s head and neatly knocked off the tall black hat it wore. Deprived of the magics contained within the old silk hat, the golem was, in an instant, once again nothing more then ordinary snow and ice. Its fellows came on, taking no notice of its demise, but Aullia’s comrades were shooting their own bows with the same unerring accuracy. In the first volley more then a score of the abominations were stopped in their tracks.
The frozen terrors reeled back from this unexpectedly strong resistance but formed ranks and came on once more. They were completely fearless, driven only to obey the commands of the Lord of the North. Another volley drove them back and then a third. Finally, with more then half their number reduced to inanimate slush the surviving ice golem drew back, almost sullenly, at some silent command of their dread master.
For a moment, Aullia and the other elves hoped they had driven off the enemy for good, especially as the snow fall began to slow, but it soon became apparent the old enemy had some new devilry to pull from his magic sack. From deeper in the snowy woods came a new sound, a heavy thudding of countless tramping feet marching through the snow in crisp synchronization.
When the figures came striding out from among the trees, Aullia’s first thought was they were manling soldiers. They were dressed in the red coats and high shakoes of manling soldiers. Perhaps the Lord of the North had bribed some manling mercenary company or plied one of their kingdoms with gifts in exchange for allies.
As they drew closer, though, the elf maiden noted the stiff way in which they moved, arms and legs ramrod straight, never bending. Their faces, she saw as they drew closer, were merely painted on, their over-sized mouths swung open and shut, clacking wooden teeth together in a horrible fashion. Their crude wooden ‘hands’ clutched strange, hooked polearms, painted in spiraling stripes of red and white. With stiff, jerky motion, the wood golem trundled forward, following the furrows in the snow which the preceding waves of ice golem had carved.
With the rest of the elven defenders, Aullia shot another arrow as soon as these new monsters came within bowshot. Accurate as ever, it landed home with a loud ‘thunk’, as if it had struck one of the wooden target dummies at the practice range. To her horror, the golem continued on, unfazed by the volley of arrows. Their hats, unlike those of the ice golem, were part of the creature’s form and were not so easily dislodged, nor did shots striking any other weak points seem to have any effect. Volley after volley were fired, until many on the front ranks were walking pincushions, but still on they came.
A short way up the wall, Caella, the village’s resident sorceress began to chant the words of a spell. It was one Aullia had heard before, to encourage new growth in the forest. When the tall, pale elf flung out a slender arm, the golem she pointed towards stopped in it tracks. It trembled a moment before fresh green saplings burst forth from its wooden figure. It tried to take another step but its feet were quite literally rooted to the ground now. For a few seconds, the original spells animating the golem warred with the new magics, but in the end nature won out. The golem froze and did not move again.
A ragged cheer went up from the rest of the elves, seeing that their foe was not entirely invulnerable. Caella began to cast the spell on another of the marching monstrosities, joined by her apprentice and some of the other elves who had a talent for spellcasting. Though like all elves she had magic within her, Aullia had never had that talent so she continued to shoot her arrows, futile though it was, until they were all spent.
Though a score or more of the golem succumbed to elven magic, the rest came on, implacable as the ice golem had been. Recognizing the threat of the spellcasters, as they came within range of the wall, those in the front ranks of the golem raised their odd polearms, drew back their arms and threw. The ungainly missiles sailed over the top of the palisade. One struck Caella on the brow. More fell among the other defenders, concentrating on those who could cast magic. The stricken elves fell, stunned by the blows. Unhindered by their enemies spells, the golem closed the last of the distance to the base of the palisade and began to pound on it with their ungainly fists. With a sound like crashing timber, the walls began to splinter and break.
That was enough to Aullia and many of the other elves. With their only means of destroying the monstrous golem subdued and their other weapons proving useless, all thought of resistance fled, replaced by the need to flee, to save themselves from their terrifying foe and, perhaps, fight another day on better terms. Already alarm bells were ringing in the village, warning the rest of its inhabitants that all was lost.
Throwing aside her useless bow, Aullia turned and leapt from the parapet. She landed in waist deep snow, which helped to soften the drop. Behind her, the section of wall she’d been on seconds before came down with a terrifying crash, toppling over those elves who had been slow to flee. A half dozen golem surged through the breach, wielding their odd polearms with uncanny skill. Aullia watched in horror as one of them rounded on one of the fallen elves as she struggled to her feet. Before she could try and defend herself, the golem caught her around the neck with the crook of its staff. The hapless maiden was dragged back, through the breach, and out of sight.
With a cry of terror, Aullia turned and fled, but her progress was hindered by the thick snow drifts which made every step a challenge. The golem seemed less bothered, their longer legs sending up sprays of powder with every stride. With horror, Aullia realized one of them had singled her out from the other fleeing elves and was marching on her with grim intent, its wooden jaws clacking open and shut in what seemed mocking laughter. When its mouth was at its widest, she caught a glimpse of a space, deep in the body of the golem, a small paper scroll tucked inside, doubtless the source of its animating magics.
In desperation, Aullia drew her blade and turned to face it. If she could only destroy that piece of paper, the golem would be no more. But it was a forlorn hope. She was tired, her strength sapped by the bone chilling cold while the golem felt neither cold nor fatigue. It’s long polearm was the superior weapon to her short sword. As soon as she came within its range, it brought the blunt top down, striking at her sword-hand. Aullia yelped at the sudden pain, involuntarily dropping her weapon. The upswing caught the side of her hand in a glancing blow which stunned the elf. As stars danced across her vision, the golem slipped the crook around the back of her head as its comrade had done with its captive. Aullia found herself jerked off her feet and dragged, helpless, outside the walls, flailing and screaming.
When she was at last thrown to the ground and the crook released for her neck, Aullia saw, to her horror she law in the center of a ring of golem. Before she could rise they fell upon her, hard wooden hands seizing and holding the terrified maiden down while the others went to work. Wide, strong ribbons of scarlet cloth were wound tightly around Aullia’s arms and legs and torso, wrapping her up into a helpless package. More ribbons wrapped over her mouth, stifling her screams and across her eyes, plunging her into darkness.
One of the golem swept the helpless elf maiden up in its stiff wooden arms and carried her a short distance into some sort of cart or wagon and dropped her unceremoniously in the back. Aullia found herself pressed up against other elves who, from their muffled sobs and whimpers, were bound and gagged prisoners like her. More captives jointed them, until the cart filled up. Aullia heard the crack of a whip, the stamping of hooves on the snow and the jingling of bells on harnesses, then her stomach lurched as the sleigh suddenly rose into the sky…
***
With the rest of the captives, Aullia shuffled forward dejectedly. Following a long and terrifying flight, she and the other captured elves had been unloaded from the flying sleigh and carried into a dungeon. Though she had been blindfolded the whole way, Aullia had no doubt about where they had been taken: the top of the world where lay the terrifying fortress of the Lord of the North. Inside, their bonds had been removed, as well as all their clothes. Both had been replaced. Aullia now wore a short light pink tunic, a matching, pointed cap, red and white stripped stockings and short, pointy toed slippers. The hem of the tunic had been cut in a zigzag pattern, the point of each hung with a small silver bell, as had the point of her cap and the toes of her shoes.
Their merry jingling mixed with those on the clothes of the other captive elves, as well as the loud rattling of their chains. Aullia’s hands were locked in front of her with a pair of delicate silver handcuffs. They were connected to each other by a long chain to a matching set of fetters locked around her ankles, which prevented her from raising her hands much higher then her waist. A narrow collar was locked around her slender neck, joined by chains to the elf maids ahead and behind her in line. The final piece of Aullia’s bondage was a wooden rod, painted in red and white stripes, jammed uncomfortably between her teeth, held in place by a tight leather strap.
To her right, one of their guards raised its polearm menacingly, urging the coffle of captives to keep moving. These were of a new type, different from the ice and wood golem she’d seen thus far. It towered over the shorter elves, six or seven feet tall. From the front, it was crudely humanoid, a round head and short rounded arms and legs without any sort of hand or foot. From the side though, it was completely flat, only a foot or so thick. The strange thing was fashioned from, surprisingly, some sort of dark, dense bread which smelled strongly of ginger. The backs of the golem were blank but on the front they had uniforms and stern faces drawn with colored frosting. Some carried the same hooked polearms the wood golem had used. Others carried whips braided from strands of some dark, sticky material.
Under threat of whips and clubs, Aullia and the other elf maids shuffled from the dungeon where they had been shackled, up a long corridor. It finally opened into a long, high hall fashioned from stout wooden beams. Here and there, vaulted windows showed a dark wasteland beyond, thick flurries of snow blowing past. At the far end, a raised balcony looked out over the halls, with a large pair of double doors painted a bright crimson, bearing golden runic ‘K’s’ on either side. Filling the enormous space were rows of tables, a score, each stretching the length of the hall. Standing in line along each were more elves, dressed and shackled much like the newcomers. They were hard at work, doing something, filling the hall with the sound of frantic bustling.
Aullia soon learned what they were doing when her coffle was marched to an unoccupied stretch of tables. The one she now stood in front of held several pots of paint and brushes, the wood surface spotted with countless droplets from long use. The far end of the table held two rows of small wooden figurines. With a start, the elf maiden realized they were perfect miniature replicas of the wood golem that had stormed her village and enslaved her and the rest of the maidens. The figures on one side were painted the same as their larger cousins had been. The other set were bare wood.
From the set up, it was obvious enough what the young elf was supposed to do. As further incentive, one of the gingerbread golem stomped past her, cracking its whip over her head. Hurriedly, Aullia grabbed an unpainted figure and a brush and began applying a coat of red. Satisfied, the guard moved further up the line, getting the rest of the new slaves working.
Glumly, Aullia continued to paint the figure. She finished with the red brush and grabbed a black one for the boots, hat and belt. When she had finished with the rest of the colored brushes, the figurine was set to dry with the other fully painted ones while she got started on the next. The slaves on either side of her plied their paintbrushes the same way. As they worked, another elf, chained by her collar to a small wheeled cart, came by and collected the finished figurines. Another slave shackled to a cart brought new, unpainted figures to replace them.
Aullia wondered where the figures were being taken. Perhaps there was another line of enslaved sorceresses, like the unfortunate Caella, writing scrolls of animation like the one in the mouth of the golem that had captured Aullia, or casting spells to grow the animated soldiers to full size, swelling the ranks of the Lord of the North. Then they would go out and capture more innocent elves, to continue the cycle, until his icy dominion stretched over the whole world.
The captive elf felt a pang of guilt knowing she was helping to make that possible, even as an unwilling slave, but she knew she had no choice. The crack of a whip and the sharp cry of another of the maidens told her what refusal to work as hard as possible would bring.
As for escape, one look at the large, frosted windows put an end to that. The garb she and the other slaves had been given, though admittedly cute, was entirely unsuited for the conditions outside the Lord of the North’s fortress workshop. She’d be frozen before she’d gone a mile past the walls...assuming she could even slip the chains linking her to the rest of the captives and evade the omnipresent gingerbread guards and who knew what other horrors lurked in this place.
A loud clanking, which cut through the bustle of the workshop made Aullia look up from her work. Up on the balcony the large crimson doors she had seen were slowly swinging open. The maiden’s breath caught in her throat as a figure strode through. It was him! The Lord of the North! It could be no other. She’d heard, often enough, stories told in whispers about the figure, a massive hulk of a man, his blood-red robes, lined with white fur, straining to hold in his massive cut. Between the trim of his fur hat and the thick white beard which spilled across his chest a distended red nose and a pair of dark, flashing eyes looked out over the workshop and the elves enslaved to do his bidding. A wicked grin crossed the Lord of the North’s face and his gut shook as evil laughter filled the workshop…
“Ho ho ho!”