Greg Makes the Summit of Snow Lord's Peak

The basket of Sarah's Balloon touches down on the summit and Greg steps off with a glass of Prosecco in one hand and a hors d'oeuvre in the other. A squad of German soldiers in winter gear studiously follow him out and begin digging trenches and foxholes with their entrenching tools.

This week's Snow Lord Peak brought to you by Mount Joffre, Alberta.

'Hey! Hey, guys! What are you doing?' The Snow Lord gently but firmly pulls one of the soldiers up by the collar of his jacket, his spade frantically digging into empty air.

Greg shrugs, 'Sorry dude. Every time we move to a new location they feel compelled to do this.'  

'Well, if they ruin Sarah's herb garden the Russians will be the least of their concerns. Tell them to do their thing over by the Herdstone, the pond needs enlarging anyway.'

The squad scurries off to their new task.

The Snow Lord watches them as they begin their excavations and then turns to Greg. 'So, what can I help you with?'

Greg sips his Prosecco and looks speculatively at the fur-clad monstrosity. 'I'm here for the treasure. I understand that there are some Byzantine rules that I have to follow before I can get it.'

The Snow Lord strokes his blue beard and smiles, 'Yes...indeed... Well, you only have to follow one rule, but you will find it truly... Byzantine. I see that back in Challenge VIII you created a bit of a stir with a natty unit of Cataphractoi cavalry. Very nice. You also made some big promises that this was the start of an exciting new project for you.' He looks pointedly at Greg. 'That was almost two years ago.'

Greg blushes and kicks at his feet. 'Yeah, well, you know, there was all these shiny models and Horus asked me to...'

The Snow Lord stops him with a raised finger, 'I know, I know, but this is a Challenge so I'm challenging you to make up for lost time. I want you to provide us with two new units of Byzantines.'

Greg furrows his brow but then slumps his shoulders in resignation. 'Got it. I'll get out my icons and incense and get cracking.'

'Great stuff. Okay, you better get your boys and scoot. Alex is on his way up.  He's from Russia, you know.'

Greg clicks his fingers and points to his entourage, 'Riiiight.'

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Both my Ottomans and myself look forward to seeing what you come up with Greg!

-Curt