Tobias is out of range, so he inquired if I could spend another fantastic day with you fantastic folk! I of course said yes. I’m going with scene challenge of the day, because I’m not sure if he planned another one this week. I’m winging it.
Lately, as in last night, I’ve been playing a lot of Civilization V. In fact, I’m currently playing it with my two brothers and my sister-in-law. We roll like that, and they take their time. I’m a little more knee-jerk on my stratagems.
In my game, there was a spearman that went north. He took out countless barbarians, their fortifications, helped city-states in places so cold the tiles they live on are labeled snow.
When he continued his march, basically at the hands of a cold, uncaring lord who just wanted to see how far north the snow went (I am still searching for the ice cap, which I find impressive), I wondered what that journey was like.
Throughout history soldiers were sent to northern reaches, in cold lands, in order to fight. They fought off barbarians, they conquered land, they put down insurgencies. Northern campaigns were a common occurrence throughout history, and here this spearman was enacting it for my kingdom.
So in the spirit of things, write a 1000 word scene about two soldiers around the camp talking about their northern march. Do they miss home? Do they have nothing to go back to? Are there stories of witches trying to snatch them in the night? Perhaps lost fingers to frostbite.