To continue a Christmas Tradition of mine, here is a short story for christmas
It was the night of December the 24th. Forsaken and human troops lay huddled in their dug outs, the ruined city of Andorhal all round.
The air was freezing even the forsaken bones, as each side lay silent, afraid to move lest that move be their last.
Few remained that wished to be there, the cold hard bite of war had eaten away at the resolve of the ordinary soldiers, who wished nothing more than to be home with family and friend.
But no warm fire, no friendly face greeted the soldiers. Scared, cold, and hungry they sat, lay, waited, in deadly silence.
Silence, until a voice broke it.
It was a female voice, coming from the Alliance trenches. It sang – slowly, and broken, but the solo cut through the night like a dagger, as the words of “Silent winter veil night” drifted through the December air.
The voice was joined by another, as the Spirits of the Alliance instantly raised, their troops joining in song as they chanted through the hauntingly soft words of the carol. As the sweet song ended, silence fell.
But then, an echo from across the city. The words of the same song, but in Gutterspeak, returned to the Alliance soldiers with strengthened resolve. As the forsaken troops finished, the Alliance began again, this time in harmony with their Forsaken enemies, as heart and strength flowed back to troops on both sides. Throughout the night, they sang until the first rays of morning hit the mists that spread across the city.
But there, movement, as soldiers emerged from their trenches, climbing out of their dug outs and fortified buildings. But they were not clutching weapons, but gifts for their foe. They met in the middle, exchanging presents of the little rations they had to spare, alongside mementos and trinkets. They chattered through the day, in a mix of Gutterspeak and Common, sharing tales and songs. And before they returned to their opposing sides, they played a game of cricket, between two peoples who only fought, because they had been told to fight.
As December the 25th ended, both sides had been touched by the other spiritually, and for one day of the year, they had felt happy.
The way is shut,
It was made by those who are dead
And the dead keep it.
Skeleton in the closet.