text: [Themes: fan fiction, fantasy]
  
  The wind is blowing throughout the town enveloping it in a cold grip. Not a single light is present. The stars are blocked by the blizzard, the moon is dark, and the dim candles of the people have been put out. White is everywhere. The snow smothers the earth and town.
  
  Nobody sane dare ventures outside. The streets are quiet, yet the only sound to be made is the clattering of horses' hooves. Their riders are solemn though they were once proud. Their ancient order has guarded the mountains long before all else.
  
  The people stare from the windows. There's no emotion on their faces, for they know that becoming a casualty of war will be merciful. They watch their only hope leave them behind, but the message has to get through. There is nothing left to grasp but this desperate hope.
  
  Mothers and wives let out mute tears as they try to take one last look at their beloved. Old men are ashamed that they cannot leave with the riders. Sons and daughters long for their fathers' embrace.
  
  But, they ride onwards without looking back.
  
  They are without food in their supplies. They bring no shelter. All in which they have is for war.
  
  "It is only for a day," they say to themselves, yet even they know that is a lie. Everything which is brought is damned to never return and to become the plunder of evil. They bring only their weapons and armor in the hopes that the lighter burden may quicken their horses' pace in the inhospitable climate. They do not bring hope.
  
  Slowly, their town fades into the snow. It vanishes like a mountain behind the clouds. The trees are bare of birds or animals who have long since fled. If only those creatures could speak the message. No, fate has cursed them. They must ride.
  
  Their ears strain to hear any noise. Death's army awaits at every step. Any moment, their scent could loft to a nose or their presence could be seen. It is only a matter of time.
  
  Their captain halts. A mist emits from his mouth every few seconds. His eyes are sullen. The rest of the company realizes where they are, and they become afraid.
  
  The captain directs his horse to the side. It tries to move away, but he forces it onwards. It walks down the path that has far since gone into absolute decay. The other riders are motionless for a moment, then they enter the path of the Devil's Gash.
  
  [Author's Note: This is a fan fiction of Led Zeppelin's song "No Quarter".]
  
  > To the Wilderness
  The wind picks up to an unnatural uproar blowing frigid ice upon them. The band of twelve hang their heads low. An unseen force is pushing them back. They know this, but none dare to speak it. Their horses stammer sensing that nothing is right within these confines, yet they are pushed onwards by their riders.
  
  A few of the men look over their shoulder. Something is behind them. As they ride deeper and deeper into this forsaken path, their realization becomes all the more blatant. Something or some things are hunting tonight. Sometimes, they only catch a glimpse, a blur. It is nothing just a moment later. Those men's hearts quicken their pace. Why should they keep their backs turned only to have it pierced soon enough? They must stand their ground and fight.
  
  Others in the company look to their sides. Creatures are running by with speed too fast for the eye to track. One stops for a moment revealing the outline of a nightmare. Then it vanishes. Hands rest on the hilts of swords, for tt is only a matter of time until the creatures turn to face them. It won't be long until the slaughter commences.
  
  The captain looks onwards keeping his resolve. Onwards is his goal. He cannot appear to have fear. He must not loose his determination. If he succumbs to his inner terror, then so will his men. They cannot fail. That is something they cannot afford.
  
  But a deep fog rolls into the valley though there is none in the winter. The men cower in their hearts as the night becomes even dimmer, and they pray for darkness to turn to light.
  
  Their prayers are answered when light forms in the east. Their souls rise with the sun.
  
  Then, the captain's eyes see something ahead. A shadowy monster fills his heart with a suffocating dread. A beast stands there from death's army. The captain knows that their travels will be easy no more.
  
  > Bright And True
  He orders his men to charge at the monstrous beast. They draw their swords which shine in the light. Onwards they go to their impending doom.
  
  The beast lets out a scream, and the horses lose their minds. The men jump off their untrustworthy steeds and surround the beast. It lashes out against the men. They dodge or slice at its hands.
  
  One man is too slow. He is crushed within the creature's fingers. He shrieks like a child before his mouth is filled with blood. His body is tossed to the snow like a girl's doll. He shrieks no more.
  
  Another man's head is smashed inwards. His skull turns to rubble as his body crumbles to the snow. It throws a boulder to the captain, but he barely leaps from death.
  
  The captain orders his men to pull back, but two press on with their assault. No, they will not flee. One man distracts the beast by feigning an attack. The other jumps onto its back. His sword then pierces into its neck and severs its head from its dimorphic body. It collapses to the ground and the man falls off. His companion picks him up, and the slightest of smiles appear on their lips. Yet, it vanishes when the others see more of death's horde near.
  
  The one man falls once again and comes to the conclusion that his death is at hand. His leg no longer works. It appears broke, yet his friend once again comes to his aid. He lifts up his companion and they grab a horse. They ride forewords with the eight others leaving behind two corpses to rot away alone.
  
  The fastest of the creatures cannot keep pace with the company. The loose ground tries to force the horses to crash onto the earth, but they still hold up their riders as their mouths foam unceasingly. The eyes of the swift creates are filled with fear, for they do not hide their emotions like the riders. No, they freely show their desperate fear.
  
  A howling erupts behind the ten. The Devil's hounds have their scent. No horse can outrun such a beast. Nothing can keep the hounds from their living feast. Tales of dread swarm through the men's heads. The hounds are known throughout the land as amongst the most fearsome of them all.
  
  "Onwards men!" yells the captain. "It is not far until we leave the mountains!"
  
  Just minutes away beckoning like a twinkling star rests the end of the Devil's Gash and the mountain. There is the end of their journey of despair. Perhaps, they can give the message.
  
  Then, the hounds appear from the mist. Long before the company can succeed, fangs will pierce flesh.
  
  Something must be done. Their lives matter not when compared to their goal. The captain realizes they have but one choice.
  
  > split Up
  "Split up!" orders the captain as he rides ahead. Three of the men stay by his side, but most ride off far deeper into the forest. Most of death's army still chases the four that ride onwards, but some do veer off to follow the sacrificial few.
  
  While a scream of agony erupts from behind, the two who killed the monster ride away. The injured one looks back. His heart drops, for nothing is behind him.
  
  "Haken," he says as he looks ahead again, "They are not behind."
  
  "Then we must distract them."
  
  "Agreed."
  
  They ride back to where they left yelling a battle cry. They raise their swords into the sky while their doom nears. From the mist emerges a hound. Evil's spawn snarls its teeth and leaps at the two men. Their swords lodge deep into its chest, but it does no harm. It slams them off their steed and into the cold snow as they lose their swords.
  
  They both are in pain, but they must fight. Maybe more forces could come their way to buy their captain some time.
  
  The hound circles around the two men. They raise their voices even louder and place their backs together. Here they make their last stand. They take out their knives.
  
  Faster than they can see, the hound charges. It crashes in between the two and latches onto the hurt one's arm. It shakes its head violently shredding his limb. He stabs its face with his free hand as pain envelopes his mind. The beast lets go and lunges at Haken. It tears his limbs into bloody carnage until he no longer moves. The hurt man tires to run, but the hound of doom lands on his back. With his face in the snow, he screams as the beast tears into his back.
  
  No mercy is shown to him. He dies as his ribs are bare to the cold. His blood turns the snow into a lovely red. The hound runs off to find the horse. Its unappeasable hunger eternally driving it for more flesh.
  
  The snow falls softly upon the ground.
  
  > Alone
  His eyes open. There lays his friend who is long since dead. Pain washes over him like a frigid lake. It gnaws away at his resolve for every throb. He pushes himself up crying silently. He prays that the message has gotten through, but now he knows not what to do. What can he do now before he dies? His blood leaves him while cold takes him. Death's army will blanket him before night. They have won this fight.
  
  He takes his knife. It looks so merciful. A simple thrust will end all that's terrible. It sparkles in the light while it touches his chest, but it never does pierce his flesh. Is he to cowardly to sink the blade, or does he have some hope of being saved? Not even the lonely soul knows.
  
  He sheaths the blade and cries like a child. Something drives him onwards. Something forces him to continue in the wild. He limps over to his friend. He takes him clothes and cloak, for the dead need nothing from this world. He wraps bandages around his wounds to slow the bleeding from his arms and legs.
  
  He continues to somewhere though he does not know where that is. He is lost and alone. He is bleeding and cold as is mind drifts back to his home. Why can't he be sitting by a fire as the smell of bread lofts throughout the house? His legs long for having his children sit upon his lap. His lips wish for his wife's kiss. He cries more and clings onto his memories.
  
  He stops. This is the road though the monsters are not here anymore. They must have left. Has the captain reached the others? Haken does not know, but he wants to find out. Were all of their efforts in vain?
  
  He walks down the Devil's Gash. He hears nothing but the wind's howling. It sounds like the screams of men dying. The wind is mocking him, for it knows his fate.
  
  As he rounds a corner, he sees a single creature, but it does not notice him. His hand rests on his sword, and his legs scream in an unheard pain.
  
  > Fight
  He charges to the creature without a sound. Only the snow reveals his presence. The creature turns around as he thrusts his sword into its head. It falls to the ground, but stands back up. Is cannot see due to the protruding blade, but it thrashes about in a brutal rage.
  
  Haken takes out his knife and slashes at its hands. Its fingers fall to the ground before they can reach his throat. He pins the struggling monster to the ground and hacks away at its neck. As a black blood squirts from its wounds, he carves his way through the decaying tissue. With one final thrust, its head rolls off its shoulders.
  
  The lonely man stands and puts his boot on its head. He pulls out his sword and thus falls to the ground. Perhaps he can rest just a bit. No, he cannot. He stands to his feet. He marches onwards to meet whatever will befall him.
  
  His legs give way and he crashes to the ground. He tries to push his way up, but it is to no avail. So, he closes his eyes and lets the cold grip his consciousness. This is how he will die. What a funny way to go.
  
  "No." he says to no one but himself. He lifts his broken body and sets his way ahead. Each movement wishes to be his last, but he has to take one more step. He has to know if everything was for naught.
  
  > The Snow Drives Back the Foot That's Slow
  The sun beats down on the earth, but no warmth comes to the ground. The northern winds bring just the cold. Haken shivers almost violently like an autumn leaf moments before it falls.
  
  The forest fades away as he moves closer to his goal. All that is left is the gash and the mountains. There are no prints in the snow. The wind hides all trace of what once was here.
  
  Why does the earth want him to die? He only wishes to fight against death's army. Has the earth been conquered by them already? Has it already submitted to this unearthly force? He nods his head yes. It must have. Only that would explain its lust for his blood.
  
  He tucks his hands deep into his pockets. He won't show any signs of failure to this great cold. It shows no mercy, no quarter to him; however, he will still beat back nature itself.
  
  He turns around and sees the wind hiding his prints in the snow. There is no sign that he ever existed in this Godforsaken Hell. Though, there are no beasts behind, no hounds to devour, or no friend to help. It's just him and the gash.
  
  The sun hides behind the clouds as snow falls at an astounding rate. His feet sink into the snow with every step as it piles up like sand in an hourglass. He still presses onwards. The end must be near.
  
  A strange feeling wraps his soul. Something is off. He does not know what, but it is there beyond any doubt. The air seems heavy in his lungs as the wind picks up to a mighty roar. His heart throbs as though he is in battle while the mountains themselves appear to tremble.
  
  He lifts his eyes to the mountain in front of him. The snow blinds most of his view, but it is wrong.
  
  When the snow pauses for just a moment his heart sinks. He draws his blade for a final time.
  
  > With Death
  The Beast itself looks down and sees him. It towers above him like a god while its eyes burn like the pits of Hell. It moves finally like an earthquake and to him in all haste. Haken stands there with his sword drawn not knowing what to do against the mightiest of death's army. Perhaps the beast is death himself, but the man does not know what it is or what to do. How could this beast even be here?
  
  He dodges to the left to miss its swipe. He sinks his knife into its heel, yet it does not even notice the steel. It only sees a meal.
  
  It reaches down again to pick up its prey as Haken tries to jump out of the way. He fails when its hand wraps around his waist causing all of his struggles to go to waste. It lifts him above its reeking head causing his heart to fill with dread. It lets go as he falls down screaming, and it swallows its prey in a single gulp.
  
  It closes its mouth and walks away feeling satisfied with its day.
  
  It stops for a moment. Something feels wrong. Suddenly blood spurts from its neck as a single blade pierces through. It stabs and slices until a whole is formed. The Beast falls down it sheer pain while Haken emerges from the whole he just made. He runs away while the Beast thrashes until it stops. It has gone to death's domain.
  
  > No Quarter
  He walks away from the mountainous carcass. He comes to a ledge upon which he can see far. Collapsing from his wounds, he pushes himself up. From here he can see their destination. There are horses like dots down below, but their crimson stains the snow. Around the horses he can barely see a shiny sparkling. The city walls are felled. Its buildings are ablaze. Not a soul moves ahead.
  
  No quarter was given below. The news did not get through. They failed. Everything was for naught...
  
  He turns his head to see the Beast.
  
  He says to nobody, "Maybe, there is still a hope." He pushes himself up and marches. He does not know where he goes, but he will let no monster go. He will not give up without a fight. He will make death's army regret their invasion. Just like what death does to him, he will give no quarter.
  
  He cries alone.