The snow melted beneath his feet, seeping into his poorly joined boots and freezing his toes. His left arm was completely useless now, broken in at least two places. It hung lamely at his side, the pain of it, now the only warmth in his body. He gingerly ran his fingertips down his arm, carefully feeling for more breakages, then suddenly a spark of pain caused his mind to cload.
"Three!", he groaned in pain.
His companion looked over; eyes filled with pity and impaitence with equal measure.
"Are you going back to Tervale?", she asked with just a hint of annoyance.
Looking up as the pain subsided, he stared at the road ahead. The darkness of the night had already swallowed the others, just has it had swallowed the moon and stars. He knew that only danger lay up that route, but it was danger his companions were facing, he couldn't fail them now. But what could he do? With a broken arm and little strength left, what could he do?
As if echoing his thoughts, his companion asked, "What can you do?"
This was the answer, he knew inside that this was the answer. He turned to his escort and said with all the resolution of a glacier on a mountain-side, "Whatever I can!"
With that he set off up the road in a lumbering gait, his left arm hanging lamely, while his right held his morningstar. Ahead of him he could see some dark shapes appear from the gloom, like ghosts, but slightly more substantial. As he approached one of the shapes broke off from the group and sidled over.