“I don’t want to get a cold ever again. My hands and feet are still not moving properly.”
Gaston had very weak stamina and his body was shivering. There were small pieces of ice growing on his beard. After the ice storm passed, Ras Hill started to get really busy.
“Check how many people are alive.”
“We need a cleric here now!”
“We have serious patients over here!”
There were only 7 clerics sent with the vanguard. Of those, only 2 survived and they hurried to try and treat the others. However, there were very few who survived. Those who had been confident in their strength tried to stand and resist the ice storm. They had been ruthlessly beaten to death by sharp chunks of ice.
Only 130 people thought of digging up holes!
But even in the pits it was hard for the production classes to bear the cold from the ice storm.
Ferocious winds propel pieces of ice into the holes.
Unless the hole was very deep they would either die or be on the brink of death.
In this situation, the warriors and the knights had fared much better.
Gaston and Pavo from the production classes had nearly died while the majority of the magic professions died.