Of Thoughts and Swords

A blog about Science, Philosophy, Wargaming, Literature and other things, in three or more languages.

Story Time: Infinity A Caledonian Tale 1 (High Rise)

This one was intended to be an ongoing series, which, once more, started on the international forums. I have not yet written many parts, but maybe posting them here will inspire me again.

High Rise


The cliff was as cold as the wind in her hair.

Taking in the view of the clear blue sky and snow topped mountains she drew a deep breath.

Then she jumped.

The wind soared past her ears, almost playing tunes as she plummeted down the cliff. She intensively felt some spindrift from the waterfall spraying against her bare skin. Everything went darker as she entered the water. The tune became a swoosh, and the cold turned warm. With two strokes she breached the surface again.

Releasing a sigh of joy Sorcha drew breath into her lungs. Sweeping away some hair from her face she looked around. The water was steaming, the surroundings almost concealed by the mist. Below her feet she could feel the springs´ draft, whose waters ran down another cliff not two fathoms from here. Paddling against the pull she looked up to the waterfall, it was a ten fathoms drop. She remembered being afraid of that jump not four years ago, now she relished in it every time.


Closing her eyes she enjoyed the warm waters some more until a sound reached her ear.


The voice was deep and feral, Sorcha would recognise this voice anytime.

“Richt here!”

She shouted back to drown out the noise of the waterfall.

Not much later Aodhan shoved his large frame through some bushes. His face was alert as always and his furry nostrils sniffing the air for unknowns.

“What is it Bàn?”

He did not look at her while answering he just kept his eyes on the surroundings, as always.

“Neil just came bak, Dwayne seems to have found some Scone folks.”

“I don´t know nothing ´bout that. I come, tell Muir agus Sinneag to keep their cool.”

With a grunt he turned back into the undergrowth.


Swimming to the edge Sorcha pulled herself onto firm ground, right next to the place where she had left her backpack.  The cold immediately embraced her again, yet her shiver was more due to the intruders than the temperature. Opening her pack she first withdrew her undertunic and trousers. She hurried Scone folk up here was never a good sign.

While fastening her deep red hair into a makeshift braid she admired the scene around her. The small mountain lake with the waterfall, surrounded by a thick but small ring of trees, was just beautiful. A moment later the image was gone from her mind as she gracefully descended the slope behind the trees to reach her men. It was steep and frosty but it posed no challenge for her. She had known these mountains all her life.


She caught up with Aodhan, Muir, Sinneag und Neil who were grouped in a trough at the mountains foot. Aodhan hat his hands at Sinneags collar who appeared ready to draw her claymore, Muir had his one already in hands and was starring onto the small plain ahead, as was Neil who ignored the squabble behind him.

“Enouch! Bàn, let her go.”

With a snarl he loosened his grip and Sinneag made a step back, anger visible in her stare.

“Muir, put away your blade.”

His head turned to her but he did as told, looking not more amused than his comrade, yet both conceded to Sorchas words.

“Neil, where is Dwayne?”

He pointed a finger.

“Richt there. He comes with one of the Scones.”

She kneeled next to him and followed the directions. She could see Dwayne in his camouflage, but only because she knew how he moved. Someone else was with him.

“Give me your glasses.”

The young soldier fumbled for his belt immediately. Sorcha was irritated for a moment before remembering that this was his first outwards journey as a volunteer. With the glasses in hand she took a closer look. The other one wore am insignia on the shoulders, Sorcha easily identified it.

She turned to the three behind her.

“It´s a Scots guard that Dwayne has dug up. You three behave yourself.”

“What are they doing up here? They have no business on our lands!”

“We´ll see soon enouch Sinneag. I guess we´ll get something to do for you after all today.”

Aodhan gave her a quizzical look with these fur framed grey eyes of his. A look she was used to since being old enough to cause trouble.

“Neil, Sinneag. You two get your arses off to the east and west somewhat and cover us. Who knows what´s going on.”

The addressed nodded and left, there was only a slight hesitation from Sinneag, before leaving. Sorcha sat down and freed her braid from frost. It prevented her mind from wandering while waiting.


Some minutes later Dwayne called in the password before sliding down into the through, the newcomer was right behind him. The Scots Guard was clad in a camouflaged coat which blended in quite well with the frozen planes up here. Yet now it was open and showed the heavy armour plates beneath. The woman was holding her Rifle in front of her in a non-threatening pose. She was taller than Dwayne, but that was no feat as small as he was, and scanned the assembly before her with stern looking brown eyes.

Sorcha was flanked by Muir and Aodhan, which confronted the newcomer with three unhappy looking Caledonians all who were taller than her. She did not seem impressed.

“What´s going on out there, Liath?”

“Found her crawling in ´skirts of loch Brouch. She wants to talk to you.”

“Fine, who are you then?”

Having waited patiently to be addressed the woman removed the scarf from her face. It was a scared , once pretty face and she was much older than Sorcha.


“Sorcha McLaoch, I presume? I am Murdag Kipling from the Caledonian 6th.”

“Well met, Murdag Kipling. Why are you on our land?”

“We are in track of a smuggling ring.”


“Yes, my partner Kenneth Daly is up ahead observing the culprits.”

“Up ahead where?”

“In the woods around the loch, we located a secret shuttle pad up there.”

“That would explain the few Antipodes in the area lately.”

Dwaynes comment made Sorcha think. They could be right, they had not sent many patrols these way lately. Someone could have snuck in.

“When did you want to tell me about your being here? After you dragged their sorry arses back to Scone?”

“I did not think about that yet.”

Sorcha raised her arm to hold back Muir, Aodhan growled.

“These are our lands, they have to answer to our laws. You know that.”

“I do, but we need some of them alive.”



“The Stavka suspects that they are part of a greater enterprise.”

“How many are there?”

“About a dozen.”

“Richt, we take them out together. You two agus us agus I will forget your insult of being here without asking. Neil, Sinneag!”

The two entered the through soon after. Murdag scanned them coldly and kneeled down to draw a map into the snow.

“We know our lands woman.”

She looked up at Muir who had snapped this.

“Well we know where the base is Highlander.”

He grunted to that.

“Remember I want some of them alive.”

Sorcha smiled at her.

“We aim for the kneecaps then.”


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This entry was posted on January 26, 2014 by in Sci-Fi, Wargaming, Writing and tagged , , .
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