4 hours ago...
Otto sat idle upon a black horse, overlooking the march of men below. He watched as the banners of the Teutonic army fluttered violently in the high winds, as if they'd be torn from their standard. It was already cold, but he knew that come nightfall it would get worse. Prussians, Estonians, Livs, and members of the Livonian Order marched on slowly. It was a few hours past noon, and Otto deduced they were behind schedule; this sudden approach of cold made matters worse. He could see in the distance a storm was coming. His commander, Leopold von Kassel, mustered up what men he could in the northeastern territories of the Teutonic State, and was attempting to reinforce Bernhard von Zinnenberg, who commanded the Teutons in Chojnice.

The Poles will pay, he thought to himself, scowling at the thought of his enemy. The Battle of Grunwald, which saw the defeat of the Teutonic Order at the hands of Poland and her allies, was only 44 years ago. The defeat had come 9 years before Otto had even been born, but just hearing stories about it was enough to make Otto hate the Poles. The Teutonic Order had come to the region at Poland's request, and there they could rightfully fight the pagans. But Poland, terrible Poland, who laughably called herself a Christian nation, went against the Order. All of the men who were lost, all of the resources wasted, all this time spent in vain; the Order should be out fighting the Baltic pagans, stemming the tide of the heretic Christians out east, or quelling rebellions, not dealing with these spiteful Poles!

It would probably snow soon, or at least Otto thought so, what with the storm rising on the horizon. Should find Leopold, he thought, time to set up camp. As he veered his horse around, he spotted a single snowflake - the first of many to touch the ground.

---

6 PM
The blizzard came without warning. Not even thirty minutes ago, a howling cyclone of frigid winds descended upon the Teutonic army. Snow whipped around violently, plastering itself to Otto's mail and garbs; large balls of hail dinged off of his helmet. He held his plated hand ahead of him to keep the snow from blinding his eyes, but it hardly worked. Surprisingly, the snow in the air was so thick he could not even see his hand from a foot away. Not even the head of his horse remained visible.

"Leopold!" He cried out loudly, but the winds were so strong that he was barely audible; no one could hear him. His horse staggered, neighed, grunted, and struggled in the storm. Ultimately the horse gave up and fell to its knees. "No! No!" Otto failed to bring the horse back to its feet, but this weather was to much to bear and it collapsed, throwing Otto into a bed of snow. He had never been so cold in his life, and the stiffness of it all made it difficult to get on his feet. He kept moving, not wanting to stay still.

After a few steps he began to question the direction he was headed. He could have swore his allies were just ahead, but when the storm hit he became blind and never saw them again. So he just kept walking, and walking. Crunch! There was something in the snow. He bent down and dug in the area to feel something hard. He made out a helmet, and inside a frozen corpse. "Help me God," he said in disbelief. He tugged the helmet from the body and brought it to his face. He had to bring it within six inches of his eyes to even make out what kind of helmet it was.

"Oh!" He threw the helmet away upon the revelation that it was a Polish helmet. Quickly climbing back to his feet, he could just barely make out the silhouette of another person a few feet away. "Hey! Who goes there?" He attempted to draw his sword, but it was frozen in its scabbard; he nevertheless kept his hand on it as a warning. "Identify yourself!" he hollered as loud as he could in the terrible storm.

2 Hours prior to present time

Leonid was quite proud of himself. This fight against the Teutons was going much more successful than the Lizard Union some years ago. The Prussian Conscripts he was leading were all singing, and he occasionally sang along with them. Even the Czech mercenaries sang along with them, not to mention the Polish men. While most of the Prussians spoke German they also knew the Prussian language, so they could more or less communicate with their comrades. He looked at the men he had assembled, and was quite proud. The Prussian and Polish soldiers were largely untrained, and inexperienced conscripts, some even forced into service. However they were well equipped, professionally made crossbows, plate armour and good shields to give them confidence. There were even some of the modern handgunners and the cannons to use against the fortifications and defended positions of the enemy. The mercenaries on the other hand, were quite the reverse. They wore much lighter armour, and most of their weapons were a little outdated, some archers among them. However they had a wealth of training and experience to make up for it. He thought that their synergy would be perfect, especially after the first few battles where the conscripts would gain experience, and the mercenaries loot some new gear. The Teutons would not know what hit them. The Prussians and Poles had much greater numbers here, and their troops were of comparable quality. They stopped for a short break, and to see exactly where they were.

Sighing, Leonid dismounted, and said that he was off to relieve himself. Grumbling as he went through the bushes to find a spot, his life took a turn for the worse....

---

Now....

"How horrible is it, when a snowstorm hits you while you're shitting?" the Prussian Knight thought. He tried to tip-toe, to get as little snow under his clothes as possible. However, it was to no avail, and he was freezing. "Erwin, Alfonz, Pawel, Aleksander!" He called out, hoping the names of the two nobles, the Knight and his right-hand soldier would be recognized. BUt no luck, it seemed he would die here.

He was stomping about, having heard somewhere that that would make him warmer. He looked like a fool, but at least he did not look dead. He tried to cover his face from the snow with his shield and visor. At least that seemed to work. Somewhat, anyway. Lowering his shield a little to look at his surroundings, he saw one of them. He backed off a little, but he realized that it was probably too late. He looked about. It was hard to see, but he doubted that the other man was alone. The Prussian knew German just as well as Prussian and Polish, so he shouted out what he never thought he would. "Don't shoot! Don't attack! I'm alone!" He quickly dropped his bastard sword, but just before he dropped his arming sword too, he cut off the little tunic he wore over his armour with his crest that identified him as a leader. "I'm harmless!" He called out, as he let the piece of cloth float away into the wind, and as he dropped his last weapons.

"I said," Otto began to reply, a hint of annoyance in his voice, "identify yourself!" Whether he was just annoyed at the other man's lack of an appropriate answer, or if the cold was just killing his mood, was uncertain. With his hand still clasped around the unbearably cold hilt of his sword, the Teutonic Knight trudged through the unbelievably thick snow to where the man was, stopping when the silhouette of the man became more apparent.

"You speak German?" Otto yelled, simply stating what he already knew. He was unable to identify the man in this weather, and even if he sounded Prussian, he could have been a Prussian auxiliary in his own force. "What land do you hail from? And who do you owe your loyalty to?" There was a harsh, demanding, and somewhat desperate tone in his voice.

Otto never once moved his hand from his sword. It might have been frozen in its scabbard, but at least it might make the man think twice if he tried attacking him.

Leonid began to kneel, hands to his head which he let down. He considered lying to the man, but he would be taken to their camp, and his fate would be much worse when that was discovered. The he realised, a half-lie would do him just right. "I'm a Prussian footman, they forced me into service!"

He shivered a little, both from fear and cold. He never was on the receiving end of such a situation, usually being the one leading a manhunt, rather than being caught. He did not like the experience, that was for sure. He simply kneeled for now, awaiting his fate, be it a sword to the neck or being tied up by this damned Teuton and his friends. He prayed to god. Whatever happened, he had never anything particularly wrong. Yes some of his conscripts were forced into service, but they were well fed and well equipped, and he did not tax his people too much. He did not deserve such a horrible death, he thought.

Half-satisfied with the answer, Otto growled and released the hilt of his sword. He bent down and grabbed the mystery man by his shoulders, pulling him back up to his feet. "Get up man," he said calmly and friendly. "Friend or foe, we can't stay out here for much longer, lest the cold take us."

After the man stood up Otto would say "I tried walking this way in hopes I'd run across some of my men..." Otto paused, wondering if this supposed Prussian was even one of his men; even if he was not, he must have been a man of God. "But alas, they must all be scattered and lost, or buried deep in this snow." He shuddered, thinking of the cold deaths those men must have suffered. God help their souls.

"I recall seein' a cave or some hollow off the road just down the way," he pointed in the direction behind Leonid, but wasn't sure if he could even see his hand. "Let's head that way and see if we can run across it. I've some flint in me pouch to start a fire, if we can make it that far. What about you? You have anything useful?"

Otto would wait for the man to answer, and would lead the way towards where he thought the cave might have been.

The German was alone? Leonid felt extremely silly. To kneel like that, to humiliate and degrade himself for but one man? He could most likely have fought him and won, or at least keep his weapons. He reckoned picking up his swords now would look very suspicious indeed, so he decided that he would leave them there for now. Standing up he brushed himself off. "Y-yes, I agree."

"Really? I just went to relieve myself...." He said embarrassed. He decided he needed his old gear however, so he picked it up in a clump, hopefully so that Otto would not see it as a threat.

"A cave? Yes, let's go there." He would quietly follow Otto, his footsteps only punctuated by snowy crunches. "What is your name?" He asked, hoping he did not see it as means of questioning him. He would rub his hands, trying to warn them up. He regrets letting his tunic float away in the wind, but what could he do now.

Otto tried focusing on not losing his way in the raging snow storm. "Otto," he finally said. "I'm from Saxony."

The snow made the walking hard, and would wear the men out. The cold ate away at their bones. Snow stuck to their hair and eyebrows. Any longer in this weather and they'd surely go stiff and die.

Eventually Otto came upon a rocky outcropping. "Damn," he cursed aloud. "Dear God, help me in my time of need." As he spoke those words, he realized something. This outcropping was the cave! The snow was so deep it had concealed it. "Oh, here it is!" He started to shovel frantically at the snow. There was enough space now that a small opening would allow him to slide in feet first - and he did so.

It was extremely dark inside, and he was just as blind as he was in the snow outside. It was just as cold as well. The only advantage was that the wind contained. He would help Leonid slide in next. "So what's your name," he would ask, fiddling around on the ground to see what was there. Some kind of vines, shrubbery, and other growth. It was dry at least. He ripped it up and tried pulling it together into a small pile.

He fiddled in the pouch on his side next, looking for his flint. "Damn the dark." Leonid would here some scratching noises as Otto struggled to strike the flint together. Sparks shot out little by little. Miraculously, the brush that Otto gathered up started to burn. A tiny emission of light eventually turned into a flame. The Teutonic Knight worked to keep it going, grabbing the remaining growth and sitting it around the flame.

As the light got brighter, something else became evident. Another body was in the cave. "Good God!" Otto was startled, initially thinking the man alive. But the man was far from alive. He was frozen solid; purple skin, eyes wide open, mouth frozen together. He had froze to death. Fortunately for the two men who had just entered, there was some firewood the man had gathered.

"Reckon he's... Lithuanian," the Knight said. "Light armor. Maybe a scout. Might've been following my men. Tried to find shelter in the cave. At least he managed to grab some firewood. Help me put it on the fire."

He followed the man through the storm. He doubted one could be more lost than he was, so he decided not to interfere with Otto's navigation.

He was starting to feel horrible, his feet barely moving. He walked by simply throwing one foot ahead of the other; he could no longer move his knees. He was about to ask Otto what was wrong, realizing death was coming any moment until he said that he had found the cave. He tried to mutter some sort of thanks but a feeble cough was all that came out, his spit freezing nearly instantly as it flew from his mouth.

He was glad that the man did not ask him his name, for that way recognizing who he was would be much easier. However, an outright lie would be frowned upon if they came to the Teuton's camp. "Leon." he harked, trying his best to give a friendly smile to the German. After all, that would explain him saying Leon rather than Leonid. If he said Leonid, he very well may have made the connection between him and a member of the Prussian noble plot. He would drop his weapons and shield, finally grateful he could get some sort of respite. He merely acknowledged the dead man with a sign of the cross, his hand shivering as he made it.

It was so tempting to take whatever clothes the dead man had, to take his gear. It would be wrong, yet so simple. Besides, he did not need them anymore, did he? He tried to get a better look at the man, but then gave up. He was too tired for proper thinking. He tried his best to help the German, though his hands were shaking too much to properly make any sort of fire arrangement, merely enough to move the wood.

Otto huddled next to the little fire that he and 'Leon' managed to start up. He had unstrapped his sword and sit it nearby, so that the heat of the flames might free it from its icy scabbard. He was able to get a better look at the man before him, casting him short glances.

Prussian, the Teuton mentally noted. He was not sure so sure earlier, but seeing him now, he was very certain. The question was whether or not he was friend or foe.

Had Leonid looked up he would eventually see the Knight glaring at him. "Does it not bother you, Leon, that you were going to kill Prussians?" Otto was testing him. "You never thought about joining the Prussian Confederates?" In truth, Otto didn't know whether Leon was a Prussian auxiliary, or part of the union plotting against him. If he was friend, then all was well. Otherwise... well, Otto had no reason to kill the man just yet.

Deeper in the cave, in a dark alcove yet unseen by the two men, something else waited... watching... preying...

The Prussian stared at Otto, once again considering his answer. "I couldn't join, was forced see." he said, once again lying although his face belied nothing. "What about you, how did you get where you are?" he said, hoping the man would reveal as much as possible. Leonid moved his hands almost into the fire, not caring about the hairs on his hands turning white and then curling up singed. He just wanted to be warm and to live through it all. He pulled at his engraved flask and threw it in the fire. "Frozen shut." he said to explain why he did it. He didn't want the man to see the wonderful engravings upon it which would quite likely give away his participation in the Lizard union.

When Otto looked away, he snatched the Lithuanian's coif and dagger. One couldn't worry about morals just now.

Further in the cave, concealed by shadow and rocks, something stirred.

"Oh I-" the Knight started to speak but all of a sudden a man dashed out of the shadows. He moved so quick Leonid would have no time to properly react. The figure wrapped his left arm around Otto's neck and used his free hand to threaten him with a knife. One wrong move and he would slice the Brother's throat.

"Don't move!" the man croaked. He was joined by three other figures who lurked from behind him, two wielding knocked bows and one a hatchet. They were scraggly, dirty men, with ragged clothes. These men were robbers; ne'er-do-wells who lurked on the battlefield or in ruined villages, looting and stealing what they could, and raping whoever was left behind.

Leonid might have had time to draw weapons, but he was nevertheless threatened by two arrows and then the other man. Despite his precarious situation, Otto was slowly and inconspicuously moving one of his hands down next to his waist where a dagger was resting.

"Look here friend," bandit addressed Leonid, "this man... he's a German!" The bandit and his allies sounded Estonian; they would be able to recognize that Leonid was not German as well. "We don't want his kind here! We'll kill him and take his things... what do you say?"

Another man spoke up, the one holding the hatchet: "Aye, and in return for not killing you - you'll help us bypass the patrols, so we can get back north to Estonia!"

Leonid looked at Otto earnestly awaiting his reply and... he was interrupted by damn lowlife thugs getting their things. He sighed, his breath freezing in the air. He opened his mouth to speak but then caught sight of Otto reaching for his blade. He made eye contact with the man and then shook his head earnestly. Even if he did succeed in killing the man upon him, and somehow Leonid managed to kill one of the others then still, by now one or both of them would get an arrow or an axe in them... maybe both. He scratched at his chin, and looked at the man with a calculating stare. "Well, see, this is a very funny thing, quite, yes indeed." he said, lowering his hand from his chin and staring at the man before him. He didn't have a plan beyond "get warm enough so that I can at least move my hands should push come to shove." Finally, he had to continue for otherwise they would realise he was stalling. Slowly however, the upper class socialite in him began to stir.

"First off, if you kill him then it would give the Teutons more reason to kill everything in the area and remove any business you got." Then he straightened out, getting a hold of himself. "Next, you will probably get yourself killed as the Livonian Order forces are just a few miles away, and how happy will they be when they catch you, and do just a little investigation, eh?" he asked, smiling suspiciously. "Finally, if you want me to help you bypass your patrols you need to keep us alive, he's my serf and clerk and knows most of my dealings. You need us, so I recommend you best treat us well." he crossed his arms, hoping his lack of submissiveness would shock them enough to make them agree with his words.

Otto rolled his eyes but faintly smiled when Leonid called him a serf and clerk. He gripped the dagger on his side, but did not draw it because of what Leonid was saying.

The bandits were still for a moment. Finally they shoved Otto forward. "Fine! But you're gonna do what we say, got it?" The bandit motioned for Otto and Leonid to walk further back into the cave. One of the bandits lit a torch from the fire and took the lead in front. Otto urged Leonid on to follow the bandits.

They were taken through an earthen network, obviously dug out by someone. It was very dark, cold, and dank. Some places were collapsed and new paths had to be made. Skeletons were sprawled across the ground and rusted loot littered the floor. After almost an hour of walking they started to see some light ahead and they paused.

"Wait here," the leader said, forcing the group to stop. He exited the cave and after a few minutes he yelled inside: "Bring'em up!" The bandits urged the men onward and brought them into the light. They were in a small tribal village, full of angry tribals who looked at them with hate. "This one threatened us with the Livonian Order," the bandit said, fingering Leonid.

A man with noble clothes and a crown glared at Leonid. He spoke, "A swordbrother? He doesn't look like one. Must be a traitor to the Prussians or something." They then looked over Otto, and when the bandits said he was Leonid's serf and clerk, the nobleman laughed. "Fools... this man wears the armor of a Teuton! He's a Knight, for crying out loud!" He came closer and looked into Otto's eyes. "You might be happy to know your allies defeated the Poles at Chojnice."

The nobleman walked away and simply said "bind them up in seperate cages. I will deal with them tonight."

---

Otto and Leonid would be chained up to iron poles, and locked inside an iron cage somewhere in the village. They were fed scraps, and were victim to dung being slung at them for about an hour. Eventually, however, an Estonian warrior came and unlocked Leonid's cage, forcing him to the nobleman's hut. Inside it was warm and spelled of good food. The nobleman was looking at a map of the surrounding lands. He was obviously Estonian, and this village was obviously a temporary one.

"Tell me why I should not kill you," the nobleman said plainly without looking away from his map. The Estonian spearmen standing on guard watched him with keen eyes.

"Yeah yeah yeah!" he said when told to do as told. He thought he was in control of the situation, smiling arrogantly. Oh how wrong he was. They went through a cold dark clearing, passing corpses as they did so. Wonderful. He didn't bother commenting as they were pushed into a village and various remarks made, simply giving the noble a sarcastic wave/

He tried to resist a little when locked up but then stared at Otto, then at his feet. "If it comes down to it, I risked it and I will risk my life for ya again mate, but it seems like I might be the only one to make it out of this mess." he stated, knowing that while it was a good thing to not give a man false hope, it may not be taken so gracefully. Then he tucked his head in to minimize the forthcoming humiliation.

As Leonid was unlocked and lead into a building, he made sure to let some of the manure and excrement upon him fall down on the noble's floor if he could. Spite always made one's soul calm, even if it seemed to do the opposite. The Prussian gave a light chuckle when asked why not to be killed and looked about making sure those outside would not hear him. "Well your mates needed help passing some patrols, I heard." he said plainly, knowing it was probably a lie and the noble had wholly different motives.