LINNORM KING - THE SLAYER OF FAFNHEIR (Inactive)

Game Master Brian Minhinnick

“The binding ritual is done within the first few years of life. Sometimes it takes; sometimes it does not. It was Gunnar that decided that the ritual be done on Einar on the day of his birth. This had not been done before, but Gunnar had a powerful vision from his dreams: his son would become a Linorm King and unite the lands. Gunnar knew their family magic would be needed for Einar to fulfill the legacy foretold in the vision. This would also protect Einar from any who would seek to harm the boy, should his destiny be discovered. The ritual took, as Gunnar knew it would. Gunnarthen presented Einar to Sveinn Blood Eagle. Sveinn saw the boy and listened to Gunnar talk of his vision. Sveinn believed there would be one to rise and unite the lands one day. Many came before him with this claim, but all had failed. But something happened when the great king looked into the baby’s eyes. He saw hope in Einar. Sveinn gave his blessing this day and looked forward to the days ahead, and what would become of Einar.

Even as a boy Einar possessed great power. I became friends with him then, and have been by his side for all his trials and tribulations since. Now his first was not unlike what many of you may go through in a few years. Einar proved to be of warrior spirit and as is tradition with our tribe, he was sent on a hunt. Many beasts dwell in the Stormspear Mountains, so young warriors were not sent deeper than the foothills on their first hunt. But Einar was special and was tasked with a special hunt. The Stormspear Mountains are known to be home to the much feared Yeti. Some call them Abominable Snowmen, because they prey on those that explore the highest mountains. Einar’s first hunt was for yeti. He accepted his task and journeyed into the mountain pass.

Einar spent days camping, hunting and living off the land in solitude. The mountains themselves, though full of terrifying creatures, were not abundant of food. Because of this Einar would have to venture back down to the hills to hunt day to day. On the fourth day, Einar killed a young boar, which would provide enough food for the next few days if he still had not succeeded in his ultimate task. As he hiked back up the mountain with his kill, he noticed he was being stalked. He kept an eye out but carried on with the cleaning and preparation of his meal as normal. As the smell of charred meat perfumed the mountainside, his stalker attacked. Einar was prepared. He stood and drew his father’s sword. He had trained and now would be the test not only for him, but also for the spirit empowered him. The great white beast charged in, swinging wildly over Einar’s head. Einar took advantage and cut a deep gash into the muscular chest of the yeti. The beast roared out in pain as it clawed furiously toward our hero. One of its claws struck true and ripped the flesh off Einar from chest to belly. Coldness seeped in from the blow, but Einar proved to be resilient to its effects. He repositioned and struck the beast again. This time he cleaved into the shoulder, nearly severing the arm. The beast howled in pain again, reeling and falling to the ground. It started to speak and beg. Now I know what you’re asking yourselves. Can yetis talk? Well it would seem so, and somehow, Einar understood it and spoke back in its language.

You see, the yeti was only attacking for food. Einar understood this. He treated the wounds of the beast and asked it to join him in his meal. Einar was curious about this beast. The two rested and feasted together, learning of one another. Einar, always looking to the future, asked the beast to take him to meet its tribe. After resting a day, the two unlikely companions set out to venture deeper into the mountains. A few hours later, they arrived at a cave. The yeti bid Einar wait outside as he went in to gather his tribe. All together their tribe numbered ten. There were only two other males; the rest were females and young. It seemed the males did the hunting. The yeti introduced Einar around and told his people of the mercy and hospitality he was given. The tribe, though joyed to have one of their hunters return, were worried of their home now being known to man. Einar, thinking as a leader at even such a young age, seized the situation and forged an alliance with the yeti.

Many days had passed now, and Gunnar started to fear the worst for his son. The morning of the sixth day had come. Gunnar determined to set out and find his son, dead or alive. Just as he was packing, he heard a commotion from outside. It started with screams. Gunnar took up his arms and ran out to see the cause of all this. He came upon Einar, standing with the still wounded yeti, in the middle of the village. Einar embraced his father and told him to lower his sword. He went on to explain that not only did he best the beast in battle but he also forged a relationship between their tribes. The yeti would act as watchers of the mountains and pass and provide protection to the north. They could also be called on for aid if needed. In return, the village needed only to safeguard the location of the cave and provide the yeti protection form would-be hunters if needed. Gunnar could not believe this, but he respected his son’s compact with the abominable snowmen. It was this day that Einar’s legend began.

Secondly, I find his first adventure to be highly implausible. A yeti would wipe the floor with a first level character, and why would a young Ulfen boy even know how to speak Aklo to communicate with it in the first place? I can accept that he knows Aklo at 12th level or even 2nd or 3rd but I can't suspend my disbelief enough to believe he spotted a Yeti, and talked it down at first level before it would have killed him.

I appreciate all the work you put into the character, but I don't want to waste any more of your time. Figured I'd tell you my reasoning out of respect since you did put so much time into Einar. Hope there's no hard feelings and that you enjoyed making a high level synthesist (I know I always do). But, at this point in the process I'm looking for reasons to eliminate people. There can only be one in the end. Thanks for trying, and I hope I'll see you around the boards! :)

A week later, Gundar requested Krovax to join him on a mission to investigate a labyrinth just on the other side of the Irrisen border that had been discovered. If there was anything that could be of use against the Witch Queen’s hordes, Gundar wanted to secure it before their enemies did. Krovax wouldn’t even consider refusing, and joined the band of 20 Blackravens as they crossed into hostile territory.

They managed to locate the ruin’s cave entrance without being detected, and proceeded down into the depths of the earth. Radok, their scout, pulled Gundar aside, but not so that the other’s could not hear. “This stonework, it’s not Ulfen make. I don’t recognize any of these runes or markings,” the man said, running his hand over the etchings into the walls.

Gundar examined them as well, and said, “Me either. Keep an eye out for traps, brother. We don’t know who, or what, last called this place home.”

After what seemed an eternity of descending into the twisting depths of the cavern, they finally arrived at a branching, one path left, one path right going in opposite directions. Radok turned to their commander and said, “What do you think, captain? Split up or stay together?”

Thinking but for a moment, Gundar replied, “Stick together, we have strength in numbers,” as he motioned for the path to the right.

The troop continued on, and it eventually became clear that they had entered into some sort of maze. During their search, they came upon a long dried pool of blood, as well as a rent helmet on the ground. Radok called for a halt, and carefully retrieved the helm and returned to the formation. “Irrisen make, sir,” was all that he said as he handed it to Gundar, spitting as he does so, as if the words themselves left a foul taste in his mouth.

Krovax looked at it resting in his friend’s hands, and said, “I worry less about the Irrisen than I do about what caused that,” he pointed to the large gash in the metalwork of the helm. Whatever had created that was large and strong.

Gundar nodded, and responded, “Keep an eye out men, we aren’t alone here.”

As they began to move on, the right wall of the path almost seemed to erupt amongst them, and the area suddenly got darker, obscuring their vision. Krovax managed to see enough however. A large creature of nearly pure muscle burst through the wall, its head sporting two large horns. In its hands was a greataxe larger than any he had seen before, and the beast used it with great efficiency as it sliced through two of their number before reaching out and taking hold of a third, then using what appeared to be wings, flew up and out of the fight before any of their force could retaliate.

Those on the opposite side of the leadership turned and fled back down the tunnels, despite Gundar’s commands to regroup. He turned to Radok, Krovax, and the other three remaining Blackravens and said, “Move! Keep moving!”

During the next hour, the screams of their comrades as they succumbed to the beasts fury haunted the remaining Blackravens. Eventually, the screams stopped, but the beast found a new way to taunt them. “Grundak thill nal di wik thra, Ulfan!”

Gundar turned to Radok, asking, “What did it say?”

The scout, clearly shaken up, simply said, “Basically…it’s thanking us for dinner…”

Eventually, the creature made another attack at the main force. It dove down from above, but not as silently as it had hoped. Radok managed to hit it with an arrow, and Krovax managed to land a glancing blow to the creature’s leg. However, it was not enough to keep it from slaughtering the remaining Blackraven’s amongst their number, killing another two and flying off with the third.

Krovax could not recall the man’s name…Gideon…Gudrion…it mattered not at the moment. But the man’s death cries seemed to echo throughout the maze.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the party made it to what had to be the center of the maze. There, resting on a podium, was what appeared to be a large, stone tome, bound by six rings. Nothing more was in the large square chamber. At first, Krovax felt sick, realizing that so many good men had died, and for what? A stone book? He fell to a knee and did his best to not vomit at the thought. His distress, however, would have to wait…

It was then that the area around them became shrouded in darkness once again. Krovax quickly regained his composure and the three Blackraven’s stood with their backs to each other, Radok with his bow, Gundar his axe, and Krovax’s blade all ready to strike. From above, the beast muttered something else before laughing, and suddenly their formation was forced apart as the monster slammed into them.

Gundar and Krovax both rolled back up to their feet and turned to face the creature. There, standing before them, was the creature that had harassed them for so long. It appeared to be a minotaur, but the foul thing had wings like a bat. It held it’s axe in one hand, and casually tossed the broken form of Radok aside, as it set it’s gaze upon the two remaining Ulfen.

As one, the two warrior’s charged forth. Before Krovax could get reach his foe, however, the beast sliced out with its axe, opening a vicious wound across the young man’s chest and sending him flying back into the wall. Krovax’s breathing became labored, and he desperately whispered, “Gorum, do not let the line of Draverian end this day…”

His prayer was answered, and a small amount of healing energy closed the worst of the wound. Able to focus again on the fight, Krovax looked across the way to see Gundar locked in a heated battle with the monster. Both combatants had appeared to sustain heavy injuries, but Gundar was clearly on the losing side. Krovax fought to his feet and began running to rejoin the fight. He was too late, however, as the beast made a final flurry of attacks with the weapon it wielded, first taking out one of his friend’s legs, causing him to fall to his knees, and then a second that was aimed for his friend’s neck. Gundar’s eyes made contact with Krovax’s, and a look of calm was painted on his face as the axe removed his head as cleanly as a guillotine.

“NOOO!” Krovax yelled, unable to make it in time to save his friend. Rage overtook him, and he charged the creature, slicing out with his blade and removing the beasts arm just below the elbow. The minotaur bellowed in pain and rage, and attempted to impale Krovax with its horns. Krovax just barely managed to sidestep the attack, and with one fluid motion turned and sliced down with his weapon, opening a huge gash along the beast’s neck, severing it’s carotid.

It rolled over onto its back, and muttered something in its guttural language that Krovax did not understand. Krovax stepped over to it, turning his sword point down, and said, “I’ve heard enough,” and thrust the blade down into the beast’s heart.

He then moved over beside his friend, and sat for a while, thinking about nothing, doing nothing. After a while, however, he stood to go see what so many had given their lives for. As he approached the book, the runes on its surface, which at first he did not understand, slowly began to retake shape. Eventually, they took the form of Ulfen runework, and read:

The Book of the Titan
Only the worthy, only the chosen, only the child of destiny, may claim the power within this stone.

Confused, Krovax reached for the edge and turned the cover aside. On the inside of both outer slabs of stone, were what appeared to be seamlessly merged pieces of obsidian constituting the “pages” of the tome. Again, the runes did not make sense to Krovax. He reached out and slowly rubbed his hand over the pages, expecting the runes to change like the cover had. However, what happened next was beyond the young man’s comprehension.

A pulse of power sent the Blackraven flying back to the center of the room. He sat back up, and looked at the book reflexively. It was now levitating nearly three feet off the podium, and was wreathed in some sort of energy. What appeared to be red lightning coalesced along its surface, and began lashing out about the room. One bolt struck Krovax, and instead of dissipating like the others, it seemed to take hold of the man, and began lifting him into the air. Krovax struggled against it, but was unable to escape. Soon, another, then another bolt latched itself to Krovax’s form, as the runes of the book itself appeared to be breaking apart from it and becoming the lightning.

Finally, a pure beam of red energy erupted from the open book, enveloping Krovax entirely. The book itself appeared to crumble away, its shards feeding the energy. As it made its way into Krovax, the man could not maintain consciousness anymore, and everything faded to black…

When he awoke, he awoke to a world of no light. His darkvision was enough to let him see he was alone, as well as the unmoving forms of Radok and Gunar nearby. The tome, however, was gone. He made his way over to Radok, and relit the man’s torch, before beginning his escape from this labyrinth. It took him quite some time, but eventually, he made his way to the surface once again.

None at Blackraven Hall believed his story, nor did Freyr Darkwine. For what it was worth, Liandra believed him, but her father forbid her to see the young Ulfen again. In his grief at the loss of his son, he also managed to have Krovax cast out of the Blackravens, using every ounce of power with the organization he had to make it happen.

Krovax, for the first time in his life, was alone.

Brushing aside a bang of long, blonde hair, Yulia paused her important work (cleaning her morningstar so well that it would shine like the full moon itself) and glanced up at the petite Chelaxian woman who had asked the question. The other female was busy eating her dinner on the other side of the campfire. True to her scholarly nature, Imperia was also reading a book.

“What thing are you talking about, Imperia? I got a lot of things,” Yulia asked semi-dryly with a smirk. She quickly returned to cleaning her weapon. Seriously, why was it so hard to get the blood stains off of Cold Iron?

“Your book,” the wayward Chelaxian replied casually as she took another bite of reindeer meat.

“Which one? You give me new books all the time. I’m seriously considering making a Bag of Holding so I can lug ‘em around without breaking my back,” Yulia teased as she sat her morningstar aside and leaned back against the sleeping Trigva II.

Imperia rolled her dark eyes and specified, “The Book of the Titan.”

“Ah! That thing!” Yulia chirped innocently as she promptly produced said “thing” in her hands. Looking down at the strange artifact, she gave the stone cover a fond rub and remarked, “It’s about time I told you the story. Alright, so do you know about my mother’s druid order?”

Imperia nodded as she set aside her book (and the universe promptly did not end much to Yulia’s amusement). “They’re a bunch of wanderers.”

“More or less,” Yulia said with a nod of her own. “As a splinter group from the Guardians of Grungir, they wander everywhere from Elfmeet to Moonwind’s Bough, trying to keep the Lands safe for travel. Since my mother died, their success has been… mixed. I’m still technically a member, but I haven’t been active in years. However, around twenty years ago...”

OoOoO

Many Years Ago…

OoOoO

Yula was glad to see her old friend for the first time in years. Dove Starstrider had changed quite a bit, but Yulia was not quite sure whose fault that was. At their last meeting, the raven haired female had been noticeably taller than the half-elf, but it seemed that her old man’s elven blood had kicked in recently. Now the situation was quite reversed; Yulia looked down on her friend and then some.

“You used to be so tiny, Yuyu…” Dove remarked in mild disbelief. “I’m glad you and Ms. Hilda are safe.”

A small, playful growl echoed through the air. Both girls looked down and saw a small, white tiger watching them intently.

“And who’s this?” asked Dove with a light chuckle as she took her friend into a quick embrace.

“Glad to see you too, Dove. That’s Gaia, my companion. She’s Trigva’s daughter,” Yulia said as she readily returned the hug. “Anyway, what’s going on? Mom was called back. There was apparently a big emergency, and the elders needed her.”

The two teenagers broke the embrace, and Dove turned in the direction of the Desnans’ camp. She held out her arm and pointed a gloved hand as if trying to grasp the tundra itself.

“Take a look, Yulia.”

Yulia winced and nearly kicked herself for missing such an obvious sight. It looked like a natural disaster had torn through the Desnan camp. Caribou-skinned shelters were toppled over. Blood stained the icy ground. Any bodies seemed to have (thankfully) already been buried. There were freshly marked graves not too far off in the distance.

Only one word came to mind.

“Yeesh.”

As far as Yulia could remember, it meant extremely serious circumstances whenever her mother was formally summoned by her druidic order. Prior to the blonde half-elf’s birth and ever since Yulia had become old enough to travel with her mother, the elders were normally content to let Team Rockne wander and rake in funds. Given that the Desnan sect of the Guardians numbered about a hundred (not including animal companions), they could usually handle themselves just fine if danger ever arose.

This clearly was not one of those instances.

OoOoO

“Hilda, we need every able-bodied person! Those damn Kalvamen hit us hard!” Like two glistening emeralds, Yulia’s eyes shifted constantly from one side of the campfire to the other, watching intently as her mother Hilda debated with the elders of her sect.

Yulia winced at the thought. Somehow, two whole longboats of the insane berserker cannibals had managed to get away from their island (everyone seemed to blame Lamashtu for this occurrence). They had stumbled upon the wandering druids in the early morning at the tail end of a major migration to Icemark; in other words, all the Desnans had been exhausted and drained of magic, and with much of their muscle like Hilda away, things had gone south very quickly.

“I won’t deny that Yuyu hasn’t been in battle before, but I am not sentencing her to death like this!” a giant white tiger rather literally roared at her superiors. Her mother never seemed to leave her tiger form much these days. “Wolves are one thing; those cannibals are another!”

Focusing on her father’s old ring, Yulia called forth some of the divine power that Desna had instilled in her around two hundred moons ago. White sparks of soft divine magic began to dance lazily from her dainty fingers. It was a reminder of her strange position amongst her fellow Desnans.

Given how she had grownup amongst them in her first decade, the elders felt they she owed them her help in the upcoming counterattack. However, technically, Yulia was not a druid. They had no real authority over her. True, she could cast divine magic and bond with animals like one, but… there were always technicalities.

Yulia had not been able to bond with an animal companion until much later than her peers, but her link with Gaia was now arguably one of the most powerful examples of companionship in the group. Desna did not grant her new daily spells like the others, but Yulia could cast her hardwired divine magic far more frequently, all without tiring. She required focus - her ring - to cast spells, but that was different than what the druids did; the half-elf didn’t have to religiously scrounge up mistletoe and holly to channel her magic. In short, Yulia was a contradiction, both a druid and not a druid.

However, regardless of what she technically was, Yulia was not going to let cannibals eat her mother’s family.

“I don’t necessarily have to fight,” Yulia offered tentatively. “I mean, I’m a good healer. Better than most here. My magic hasn’t shorted in years. Maybe Gaia and I could, uh, help free the hostages?”

Speaking of the tigress, she promptly yawned, which earned an affectionate ear rub from her half-elf companion.

Hilda paused, the words clearly yanked right out of her mouth. Up until now, she had been trying to stop her daughter from getting drafted seemingly against her will. Now the half-elf teenager was volunteering her services to the war effort. Finally, she gathered herself and spoke, “...Yuyu, I don’t like this. The cannibals are-”

“Mom, I know. Why Sveinn Blood-Eagle hasn’t cleared out that godsforsaken island is a mystery. However, some of my old friends are among the captured. I can’t just sit here and let Desna knows what happen to them!” Yulia explained as she stood up and walked over to her mother’s side of the camp fire.

Silence reigned.

“...What if you… Your father… I...” Hilda began weakly, only for her voice to trail off into the nothingness of the Dark Tapestry.

Yulia’s emerald green eyes softened at her mother’s implied words. She glanced over that the Desnan elders and found them to be… understanding. She wrapped an arm around her tiger mother’s giant neck and said, “If we prepare properly, then the cannibals will never have that chance.”

Hilda said nothing, clearly lost in thought. After nuzzling her head against her daughter’s cheek, the tigress promptly stood up and sulked off elsewhere. Yulia and the elders watched intently as she made her way over to the druids gearing up for war and began talking with them.

Yulia turned her attention back to sect leaders and explained, “That’s not a definite ‘yes’ at the moment, but she’s at least considering the idea. After spending seventeen years with her, I think she’ll agree. For now, I want to see our battle plans. I’m not exactly a master strategist, but we need to work me in somewhere.”

One of the elders nodded and began shuffling about for a map. Yulia took a moment to sigh. Needless to say, it was going to be a very long night.

OoOoO

Yulia sometimes wished that she had stayed with the Desnan Guardians and learned to be a proper druid. Their ability to Wild Shape was just awesome. Additionally, they had some powerful magic at their assorted animal appendage-tips. These factors added a level of strategy of which most armies could only dream.

As most everyone sane in the Land of Linnorm Kings knew, determined druids were excellent trackers. The Desnans had long since tracked down the Kalvamen and their campsite. From there, druids disguised as various native birds had flown overhead and spent the day spying on their foe. By a stroke of their goddess’ luck, the Kalvans had not killed anyone. Some of the older prisoners were reportedly missing limbs, but all the missing were accounted for. There was probably some sinister purpose behind that, but Yulia did not want to dwell on such details.

The battle plans had changed a bit from their first version. She had been a direct cause for that tidbit.

“I think we’re fighting too fair,” the Pseudo-Druid had grumbled to herself at one point during the war meeting. She turned out to be a bit louder than intended.

All eyes quickly fell on her.

“What? We are!” Yulia had said defensively. “These cannibals don’t deserve honorable combat like other Ulfen. We’re hitting them at night; that’s good. However, many of those barbarians are half blind, so it’s not as effective as it could be. Non-Wild Shapers engaging them in direct combat might not work out so well. They’re called berserkers for a reason.”

She paused and collected some of her ideas before continuing.

“What we should do is pelt them with lighting from the skies. They would never see it coming. We could have also Wild Shapers slip into the camp as rats and steal their weapons. You all can rip grown men apart with your ‘bear’ hands, but their bare hands probably can’t.”

That had been the extent of her suggestions, but it had been enough for the sect leaders to have a second look at their plans. It had been a while since the Desnan Guardians had formally engaged in large scale warfare, so they had fallen back on old strategies reserved for more honorable foes. Given the haste at which everyone was moving, it was understandable, but Yulia was just glad she had contributed.

“Yuyu, stop daydreaming!” a sharp feminine voice called out to her, pulling the Pseudo-Druid out of her revere.

Yulia glanced over at her main partner for the mission: one Dove Starstrider. Evidently, the smaller female had shot up the ranks in the last three years. She was a patrol leader and thus a good candidate for the retrieval mission.

“Sorry!” Yulia said as she realized that her mind had wandered again. “We ready?”

Dove glanced over her shoulder at the two other druids (must have been new; Yulia didn’t recognize them) and the team’s four animal assorted companions. Everyone on two legs nodded, which caused Dove to do so in response.

“Remember the plan. We slip in during the chaos and free the captives on the camp’s west side. In and out.”

“What if we run into Left Eye?” one of the newbies asked, clearly a bit terrified at the prospect.

Ah, Left Eye. Yulia had heard the reports about him. Towering over all the Desnans at seven something feet tall and sporting a beard made of fire, the man had been an unholy terror during the initial raid. He had received his nickname from the distinctive warpaint he had over his, well, left eye. By all accounts, he had been the one to inflict the most casualties on her mother’s druidic order. Much to Yulia’s dismay, he was also seen as the one guarding the western captives.

She quickly called Gaia over to her side and drew her sickle. Better safe than sorry.

“We probably won’t run into him. The plan calls for him to be ambushed from the skies and then driven toward Trigva and Hilda. The two tigers should keep him busy, especially if he doesn’t have a weapon,” Dove explained smoothly as she adjusted her scimitar in its sheath.

“...Alright,” the other druid replied wearily. Yulia quickly got the impression that this Left Eye had been an utter monster during the raid.

“Remember, if you need healing, go to Yulia. However, keep in mind that she might need to treat the captives,” Dove added in a whisper as the group slowly made their way closer to the camp’s western side.

OoOoO

It was utter chaos.

Giant animals fought giant men. Magic spells flared to life and then died. Lightning tore through the winter skies and struck Kalvamen right and left, only to be shrugged off by bloodlusted berserkers. Anything that could be called a structure burned brightly in the night.

In the midst of war, the small band of Desnan infiltrators quickly shuffled their way to the western captives.

They found them easily enough. Gaia’s powerful nose was able to pinpoint their location via a bloody cloth, and once they arrived, the two initiates wasted no time in cutting them free. Yulia allowed herself to pause briefly to observe the captured Desnans. They were all relatively young. Being half elf, human aging rates confused her, but she pegged several of them as either slightly older than her seventeen years or noticeably younger. Most of them were female too...

Gaia began to growl angrily. Yulia’s keen pointed ears picked up something approaching them, and she turned herself in the direction of the noise.

“...Get them out of here,” the blonde half-elf found herself saying, her voice laced with venom. Sickle in hand, she and her animal companion quickly advanced forward.

Realizing that he had been caught, a tall, muscular, beast of a man slowly stopped his advance toward the Desnans. He towered over all of them by a good margin. His rotting teeth were bared with rage, and his milky white eyes were full of fury. His beard looked like it was made of fire, and in his hands, he wielded the most wicked axe Yulia had ever seen. The marks over his left eye were highly telling.

Yulia silently thanked Desna that tigers had keen senses. If Gaia hadn’t sensed him…

Left Eye wasted no more time; with a bloodcurdling roar, he charged.

His axe raised into the air and then came crashing down.

Yulia dodged.

Left Eye swung again.

Yulia dodged.

She and Gaia seized the moment and counterattacked. Yulia shouted something in her father’s tongue, and her tigress companion quickly bolted around Left Eye, careful to avoid exposing herself to his axe. Meanwhile, Yulia rushed forward a swung her sickle. She managed to nick her foe’s arm, but it did little good. With another roar, he swung his weapon, barely missing Yulia’s neck.

The Pseudo-Druid’s ears twitched as she heard Dove and the others shuffling to safety.

Once again, Yulia dodged.

Gaia quickly took the chance to bite Left Eye in the leg. It managed to catch his attention enough for Yulia to sneak in an attack. However, the monster of a man managed to shift just enough to make an ending blow just a minor cut to the torso. With a roar, Left Eye kicked the young tiger away and then swung his axe at Yulia again.

As the weapon cut a small stone in the two, the half-elf suddenly became fully aware of one fact: if Left Eye hit her, then the battle was over.

OoOoO

The deadly dance continued for what felt like hours. Yulia dodged and snuck in a sickle cut. Left Eye withstood it and swung his axe. The other Kalvans must have been putting up one heck of a fight; otherwise, Yulia figured that someone would have broken away to help her.

Unfortunately, it was just her now, and things were falling apart quickly. The two pieces of tiger meat that had been Gaia were somewhere in the fires. Even with her goddess given sense of intuition, Yulia felt tiring. It was only a matter of time before she got sloppy and then…

Left Eye’s axe split one of the Kalvan tents in two.

However, this time it seemed that his weapon was buried in the icy mud. Sure, it only took him an extra second to pull it free, but it was enough time for Yulia to withdraw and scoop up a handful of dirt. Once the barbarian turned to face her, she promptly hurled it in his face.

There must have been a small rock in it because her foe winced and instinctively placed a hand over his Left Eye.

Yulia took the moment to swing at his other arm. Her sickle drew blood, causing the man to drop his weapon. While her enemy howled in pain for the first time all night, the half-elf wasted no time seizing it and hurling it as far as she could into a nearby fire. True, she probably could have gone for a more fatal blow, but if she somehow missed, then there would have been trouble.

Yulia smirked at her work. From previous experience, she knew that an unarmed man was-

A giant fist promptly slammed square into her face.

Her face felt like it was going to implode.

Dazed, Yulia staggered backwards, only to be struck again.

The physics were brutal. A seven foot tall, three hundred speeding pound wall of muscle crashed into a five foot eight twig of a girl and sent her flying through the winter air. Yulia felt the wind exit her lungs as she crashed into one of the barbarian’s supply piles, and her sickle went flying from her hand.

The world was blurred, and her head hurt. However, even on the cold, bitter ground, Yulia was going to fight. While she called forth Desna’s divine power to heal herself, she quickly began feeling around for something, anything to clock her foe upside the head. Much to her relief, her gloved hand did stumble onto something. Just as Left Eye was getting ready to charge her again, Yulia hurled what she soon saw to be a square tablet of stone. By Desna’s luck, her aim was true and hit the Kalvan dead in the head.

While her foe was dazed, Yulia quickly wasted no time in getting to her feet and hid. She rapidly began looking for a weapon; given their size difference, she couldn’t engage a brute like Left Eye in direct combat, even if he was unarmed.

Yulia soon saw that the others had long since escaped. Technically, she could have made a run for her side’s lines, but that had its own risks. Last thing she wanted was to lead her juggernaut of an enemy right back to the captives. She could hear him, tearing up the area as he searched for her. He also had his massive axe in hand once more…

Perfect! grumbled to herself sarcastically.

Eventually, Yulia did find something useful: a dagger from a Kalvan corpse. It was better than nothing. The only question was how to get it through his neck. That would probably be the only way to ensure the berserker stayed down. If she could just distract him...

Yulia grasped a small stone with her free hand. Very carefully, she watched as Left Eye hulked closer and closer. It was now or never. She eventually settled on a spot to throw it. All she needed to do was get an opening. She took a deep breath and threw it.

Just as she intended, it flew right over her enemies head and hit a piece of debris behind him. Left Eye quickly turned around and began looking for the source of the noise. Yulia seized the moment, readied the dagger, and pounced.

Her weapon went straight through his neck.

After making sure that her foe wasn’t going to get up again (repeated stabs to the face), Yulia allowed herself to breath. She quickly turned around and began making a beeline for the Desnan lines. It was a miracle that no other cannibal had shown up. However, as she ran, Yulia quickly stumbled upon the stone slab that she had hurled at Left Eye.

Upon further inspect, it wasn’t exactly a stone slab; it was a book. One made of two stone slabs and bound together by six heavy metal rings. Some ancient language was plastered across the cover. Yulia was a little surprised that it hadn’t broke when she had hit her foe with it. Whatever the case, curiosity got the better of her. She scooped it up and continued running.

Once safely out of the warzone, Yulia hide behind and tree and examined her prize.

Upon opening the book, the world went red.

OoOoO

After her eyes snapped open, Yulia found herself in a dark void of nothing. However, it wasn’t pitch black. Hovering in the air, her body glowing a light hue of grey. Her arms were stretched out in opposite directions. She looked up and saw a massive, full moon hanging overhead.

In each hand, she held a sphere. One was pure white, like a star in the night sky. The other was a rainbow of colors, though she saw blue and silver the most.

Instinct told her to join the spheres. She did. Every turned white.

OoOoO

Her pointed ears twitched.

“...found her!”

Yulia quickly woke up as she heard voices approaching. She sat upon again the tree and began looking for the source of the noise. She found it in the form of two giant white tigers, Dove, and a couple of other Desnan druids she recognized from the war preparations.

Upon seeing Trigva, Yulia realized something. She began frantically looking about for Gaia, but the small tiger was nowhere to be seen. She paused for a second, and a memory struck her far harder than any blow Left Eye had struck upon her. The full weight on the world suddenly came crashing down on her shoulders.

As she staggered to her aching feet, Yulia Rockne felt her eyes begin to water.

OoOoO

Present Day…

OoOoO

Yulia paused for a moment to dry her eyes. Without thinking, she gave Trigva II a huge around his thick neck.

“All in all, it was a major victory for us. We only lost six people, four animals, and Gaia; meanwhile, no cannibal survived. We didn’t have the funds to raise our dead, so we did give them and the deceased of the first battle a funeral for the ages.”

“Why did the Kalvans have the book?” asked Imperia as she once again began eating her dinner. Finding it a bit too cold for her tastes, she quickly heated it up with a cantrip.

“To be honest, I’m not sure,” Yulia admitted as she began to mindlessly scratch Trigva II’s ear. “I have theories. My best guess is that the Thassilonians left it on the island millennia ago, and the cannibals started to worship its power. I mean, look at what it’s done to me.”

Imperia nodded at the logic. “I can see that. They do revere mindslaver moss of all things.”

Yulia glanced at the powerful artifact in her hands. “...One of these days, I hope I do learn the purpose of this thing.”

To be continued…

He spent the intervening time as a simple mercenary, trying to make ends meet, but soon realized that the new power coursing within his veins could very well provide him with another way to regain his honor and force Freyr Darkwine into allowing him to marry his daughter, Liandra. As such, he sought to make a name for himself as an adventurer, putting to rest the monsters and threats of the northern wilds. He chased down every rumor of threats, dungeons, and monsters that he could come across. Unfortunately, most of them proved exaggerated, or outright fruitless endeavors.

That is, until one night at a tavern, he overheard an exasperated farmer retell a tale about how his family and farm had been destroyed by undead monstrosities. While scoffed by everyone else at the tavern, Krovax called him over to his table.

"What is this trouble you are talking about, farmer?" he asked as the man sat down quietly.

"Four...four months ago...my farm was burned to the ground and my wife and two sons butchered," the man replied.

"Why were you spared?"

The farmer looks down at the table, and says, almost a whisper, "I wasn't there. I was here, passed out drunk off of my head. By the time I came to my senses and made my way home, it was too late. I followed the tracks for two days, but never found anything..." he pauses, fear growing in his eyes, "anything except...more death. I managed to catch up to the fiends that did it as they ransacked a camp in the forest. They were the dead, walking again! The campfire lit 'em up well enough! Not a drop of flesh on 'em, and they tore those poor souls to bits, just like my family. After seeing that, I fled back here for help, but nobody believes, me. They figure it was just an accident, and nobody was willing to follow the trail as long as I had."

Krovax stood, and said, "Show me."

Krovax followed the man back to his farm, still in serious disrepair. They passed by without stopping, without a word, and continued on. The farmer continued leading Krovax to northwest towards the Stormspear Mountains. Eventually, when he realized the path was unchanging, Krovax told the farmer to turn back, and that he would continue the pursuit. The man obliged, not brave enough to continue much further anyway, and Krovax trudged on alone.

After weeks of travel, the priest eventually arrived at the base of the mountains. He continued his trek, doing as best as he could to maintain his previous heading. Eventually, he came upon a bluff that overlooked a small valley within the mountains. From there, he was able to spot a man made entrance into the rock face, the markings of which caused shivers to run along his spine. The markings matched those of the labyrinth where Gundar, Radok, and so many other Blackravens died.

He waited there for some time, watching the entrance, looking for some other sign, but mostly to muster the courage to enter into a place so similar to the one he had barely escaped before. After hours of vigilance, he gave up on any clues being gained from here, and made his way down to the doorway.

As he approached, he could feel the power within him thrumming with new life. It was clear the two places were linked, but exactly how was beyond the Ulfen Aasimar. With a prayer to Gorum and several enhancing spells, Krovax entered.

Inside, Krovax was bombarded with the same fearful sensation caused by the dangers of the labyrinth, though this place was entirely different. Where the previous dungeon had been a maze, this one appeared to be some sort of temple, though on an enormous scale. Inside the foyer, Krovax could see that this place had been attempted to be re-purposed, as many of the ancient runes had been scratched out and replaced with new ones of more sinister design. Ahead, he could hear the sound of a raspy chant in a language Krovax had never heard before echoing through the slightly ajar doorway into the next chamber.

Krovax cautiously stepped through the gigantic door, and was greeted by a sight that would be the stuff of nightmares to most mortals. Inside, the temple had been desecrated by undeath, dozens of skeletal warriors were scattered around the chamber, and the altar itself had been covered with the remains and parts of humans and other creatures alike. Standing before the altar itself was a human figure clad in plate armor, it's arms held aloft in some form of prayer. The creature turned it's head at Krovax's entrance, two points of blue light glowing from the empty eye sockets of its skull.

The creature stopped it's prayer, and turned to face Krovax. It held skeletal hand up and pointed to the human, and said, "Slay the intruder. I cannot be interrupted, not when I am so close!" At the creatures command, the skeletal horde all turned and drew a variety of weapons, and charged at the lone human.

Krovax steeled himself against the coming onslaught. "If any act is worthy of clearing my name and restoring my place, this is it." He started walking forward slowly to meet his foes. He fought his way through the horde valiantly, slicing out at his sword at individual skeletons, and using the power of Gorum to slaughter waves at a time when he became surrounded. The meager skeletons did not stand much of a chance against the wrath of the War God being channeled through Krovax.

The room quickly emptied, leaving only Krovax and the undead champion at the altar. The creature drew a black sword from it's side, and the two rushed headlong into battle with each other. The fight was violent, it quickly became clear that his foe was no mere skeleton and was drawing from a well of power similar to that which Krovax had within himself. The creature's strikes carried with them a dark energy that seemed to pull the life from Krovax's veins. However, Krovax responded in kind, using the holy power of Gorum to destroy this unholy being.

As the battle reached it's climax, the creature grew frustrated, and glared at it's blade as if it were not working as the skeleton desired. Krovax seized the opportunity, and with one final strike, caused the creature to nearly disintegrate beneath the power of Gorum's wrath. All that remained were the creature's armor and the sword.

Krovax sat down on one of the huge steps beside the remains of the creature before him, hoping to catch his breath. However, his rest was short lived as the room began to light up with the same red energy as before in the labyrinth. Krovax stood, grasping his blade, expecting an attack to come at any moment. Instead, he was blasted with an arc of the red lightning, driving him to a knee and forcing him to drop his weapon, which clattered down the stairs.

Like before, bolt after bolt of the energy struck out and took hold of his body, levitating him into the air. Somehow, the energy pulsing around him caused the stone book to re-materialize in the air before Krovax, seemingly pulled from his own body. On the surface of the obsidian pages, new runes were etched along it's surface by the same energies holding the man and book aloft. When the writing was done, the book again broke apart and rejoined with Krovax.

As the man fell back to the ground, he started to black out, but as he did so, he heard a voice echo through the hall. It said but one word, "Interesting..."

When Krovax awoke, he clutched at his head, which felt like it was about to explode from the pounding head ache he was experiencing. As he sat up, he heard the voice again, "Easy, mortal. Don't rise too fast." Krovax scrambled to his feet, falling to a knee once thanks to a bout of vertigo that had overtaken him, and looked frantically for his sword.

"I told you to take it slow. There is nothing you need fear here, Heavenborn."

"Huh...who is that? Where are you!? What is going on!?" Krovax demanded, seeing nothing but the remains of the undead he had slain scattered about the hall.

"My name is Vythrax, and it is thanks to my help that you managed to survive your fight with Barthelius the Damned."

Krovax tried to pinpoint the voice, but he could find nobody else within the hall. Yet it sounded so close. "Show yourself then, if you are the ally you claim to be!"

A sigh echoed through the hall, "Down here. I am the sword the creature was wielding."

Krovax turned, and looked upon the blade. It was made of some sort of black metal, and it's pommel had a ruby that, in this light, appeared to be looking at him. He reached down and lifted the sword to examine it. "And what, might I ask, is your name Heavenborn? It is awfully rude to not introduce yourself to someone who just saved your life."

Krovax, still unsure if he had lost his mind or if this was real, responded, "I am Krovax Draverian. How do you know of my heritage?"

Vythrax replied, "I have been on this realm for ages, and in that time, I've learned to spot the signs. But you are asking the wrong question..."

Krovax pondered what the sword just said, and after a few moments, he asked, "How, and why, did you help me?"

The sword chuckled a moment before saying, "Well, Barthelius tried to call upon my own power to help him in his fight against you, which I denied him. As to the 'why'...I chose to help you because I could sense that you had become attuned."

"Attuned? What do you mean attuned?" Krovax asked.

"To the Book," Vythrax replied bluntly. "To the Book of the Titans. It is what ultimately drew you to these ruins. It is what has given you your new power, the power to fulfill your destiny, whatever that may be. It is also what...granted...me sentience."

"Can you explain it to me, what is happening? What has happened?"

"Yes, mortal, I can. But it will take some time. Perhaps you should make yourself comfortable."

Krovax placed the sword within it's sheath and strapped it to his side, and began cleansing the site around him as Vythrax begun weaving it's story.

Unfortunately for Krovax, the story that he was told was twisted and full of lies. By the end of the tale, Vythrax had convinced Krovax to remain at the temple and "train" under his tutelage. Much of this time was actually spent by Vythrax learning about Krovax, and finding chinks in his psychological armor to unravel. Learning about his long perceived right to eventually become a ruler, as well as his love which had been prevented by Freyr Darkwine, Vythrax began weaving his trap.

After months of promises that Krovax was destined to become a Linnorm King, as well as guarantees on methods to win over Liandra's heart, Krovax became convinced that the sword had become the only true friend and ally he had ever known.

By the time he emerged from the mountains, Krovax was a changed man. He had cast aside his allegiance to Gorum, who now in his mind had done nothing but lead him on a road of despair and turmoil. Now, he had grown to revere the same lord Vythrax served: Ruzel.

The Ulfen Half-Elf was not in her usual form. Instead, she walked gracefully on all fours across the forest floor alongside Trigva and stood at equal height with the giant tiger. Her thick fur was white with a slight blonde tint, and her every breath seemed to freeze the air around her snout. If not for these factors, most would easily mistake her for a wolf.

“I’m surprised we got here without getting lost. You usually lead us in circles,” Imperia commented as she dismounted from the saddle on Trigva’s back. Naturally, her pretty Chelish face was buried deep in a book. Even the tiger rolled his eyes at her antics.

Before them, in the center of a small clearing, was a small stone shrine. The midday sun was at last visible; the towering, ancient trees of the Grungir Forest had blocked it out in all other parts of their trek. The structure itself was decorated by ancient carvings of butterflies and stars.

Imperia closed her book and examined the shrine. “Moonwing’s Bough. It’s… well preserved.”

“Indeed. I haven’t been here in twenty-five years, and it hasn’t aged a day,” Yulia agreed with a nod. She turned toward her friend and added a sincere, “Thanks for coming with me. I know that you’d much rather be back in Kalsgard, sipping Tien tea and rereading the entire library.”

The wayward Chelaxian shrugged, “I just hope that The Great Dreamer doesn’t smite me for being here.”

“Why would she?” asked Yulia as she lead Trigva and Imperia into the shrine proper.

“Because my family is a bunch of dirty Diabloists,” Imperia answered nonchalantly as she began to carefully examine the architecture of the temple’s walls.

“You renounced them a long time ago, so I think you’ll be just fine,” Yulia the Winter Wolf said with a light laugh, “Besides, if memory serves, she’s on good terms with Sarenrae.”

“Really good terms, actually,” the Sage Sorceress muttered with a chuckle on her breath. “Anyway, you mentioned visiting here twenty-five years ago.”

“You were even alive then!” teasingly chirped Yulia as she had Trigva lay down before the central pedestal of the shrine. The giant white tiger yawned rather audibly and obeyed without question.

“...Elves,” the raven haired human mumbled under her breath before changing the subject. “So what brought you here?”

“In the mood for another Rockne story?”

Imperia simply nodded her head.

“So it was about two years after I first found the book…”

OoOoO

Many Years Ago…

OoOoO

“The Varki call it The Book of the Titan,” Raelrunodin said as he carefully inspected the stone book in his hands. The Sage Sorcerer ran his hand across its cover very gently, “I have read about it in passing. Whenever it appears, strange things happen.”

“So I should chuck it in the nearest ditch?”

“I never said these things were bad, Yunie. Merely strange,” the Snowcaster remarked as he handed the Book back to his daughter. “Truth be told, I think the Book is safe in your hands. In fact, I think the world will be safer if it’s with you instead of, say, a bunch of cannibals.”

“So I should throw it in- Wait, come again?” Yulia asked as she abruptly halted in her assorted thoughts of ridding herself of a potentially dangerous artifact.

Raelrunodin quickly explained his reasoning.

“You rarely stay in one place, and you surround yourself with powerful allies. You are also quite strong yourself, especially after our many summers of training. Part of me remembers that you are a little less than two decades old and wants to invoke my right as your father to take that thing off your hands. However, the rest recognizes that you’re an adult by human standards, so I can trust you to make the right decision.”

Yulia was silent.

Her time with the Book had actually been very uneventful. Thus far, all she had gotten from its pages was ancient knowledge about item crafting that she barely understood. After actually deciphering some of the text that occasionally appeared in her artifact, she had purchased a Tien kimono in Kalsgard on a whim and began tinkering with it. Somehow, she had inadvertently woven a fraction of her inner magic into it. Her kimono was not anything special at first glance, but in actuality, it was turning out to be something rather amazing.

Yulia glanced at her arcane focus ring. During her summer training at Elfmeet, her father had taught her how to make the little trinket much more usable than in years past. After purchasing some odd supplies from the Varki traders, she had somehow enchanted the ring to render her invisible at will. Her sorcerer father had proved the necessary spell, but everything else had been her work.

A strange thing had happened earlier in the summer. Her father had trained her about how to look for invisible enemies, and one of the most basic methods had been a simple Detect Magic cantrip. To demonstrate, he had asked her to turn invisible, move about thirty feet it some random direction, and then stay put. To do that, Yulia had activated her ring while wearing her kimono.

Her old man had searched for nearly ten minutes before giving up. He later tried more surefire ways like See Invisibility, but each one of them also failed. After trial and error, they had narrowed down the strange occurrence to one thing: the kimono. Somehow, wearing the silly thing made an invisible user completely undetectable.

If that was all the book had brought her and if her wise old father knew nothing dangerous about the Book, then maybe it was worth keeping…

“Hello, Uncle Odin. Is… Am I interrupting something?” a new voice inquired softly.

“No Hymn. My daughter have just officially ended our training for the summer.”

Yulia did an about-face and saw another Snowcaster elf. While obviously female, she sported all the same features as her father: orange eyes, pink skin, snow white hair. Truth be told, Yulia had a bit of difficulty telling her other side of the family apart. The half-elf knew her father by the Ulfen braids he sported whenever she and her mother visited; the rest of the tribe just blended together.

Yulia snapped out of her revere when she noticed the newcomer staring at her intently.

“So you’re Cousin Yulia? Wow... Uncle Odin talks about you so much. You look so… human,” the female Snowcaster murmured to herself. While it might have sounded like an insult, Yulia had long since learned it wasn’t. Her father’s group of Snowcasters were actually quite friendly and open with humans; otherwise, they wouldn’t visit Elfmeet.

[b]“Can’t say I blame you,” Yulia teased as she held out a hand to offer a greeting. “Mom was pretty surprised when she first saw these things nineteen years ago. They settled any questions about who my father was. Other than them, only my height reveals my heritage,”

Among the Snowcasters, no one blinked an eye at her height, but among other Ulfren, it was another story. In the last couple of years, Yulia had shot past the six foot mark and kept going. The half-elf often joked about how lucky she was that most of her clothing was magical; its ability to adjust its size was a real gold saver. She had certainly come a long way from the runt she used to be.

“I regret nothing,” Raelrunodin declared dramatically in the background.

Her cousin took Yulia’s hand and gave it a soft shake.

“My name is Hymnalaya, though it’s just ‘Hymn’ to family,” the female Snowcaster said after breaking the handshake and stepping back. She continued to carefully examine Yulia with her almond-shaped eyes. “I arrived with the caravan this morning. I can’t believe we’ve never met.”

Yulia turned to her father and raised a blonde eyebrow.

“Only some of us stay here for the entire summer,” he explained quickly. “Others like my niece here take our traded goods back north and return with other supplies.”

“That’s awesome. It must be quite a journey,” said Yulia with a kind smile, trying to leave a good first impression. She shifted her green gaze from her father and her cousin before adding, “Well, it looks like you two want to catch up. I’ll just be-”

Hymnalaya quickly put a pink hand on her shoulder.

“Actually, I was hoping to speak with you.”

OoOoO

From the moment they met, Yulia decided that she liked Hymnalaya. Despite the occasional accidentally insensitive comment (which was mutual), her cousin quickly proved to be a very sweet and respectful creature. Hence it had proved to be rather easy for Hymn to rope Yulia into taking her back to the Lands.

Her father had explained the idea rather well.

“Not all of us Snowcasters are content with rotting in the ruins of our past glory, Hilly. My people want to rebuild what we lost during Earthfall, but until a generation ago, how has always elluded us. First contact and trade with the Varkai has reinvigorated us slightly. New ideas helped us recover old ones. But the process was still painfully slow because of our nature. Even with evidence to contrary, most of us thought we could recover the past solely on our own.

“And then you wandered into our camp nearly twenty years ago. Long story short, you and later Yulia have opened my eyes to the potential of the outside world. I have been trying to get others to travel and study other cultures like myself. Their ideas and work can surely help us. Hymnalaya here wishes to be the first to formally venture out past Elfmeet. She has a druidic connection to our goddess, but we both agree that she could use additional guidance in her training. I would like for you to be one to help us.”

Given how readily Raelrunodin had trained Yulia in the past, Hilda had been more than willing to take Hymn under her wing until the next summer.

OoOoO

Time Flashed Forward…

OoOoO

“So how does it feel to be the first Snowcaster to step foot in the Thanelands?”

“Quite wonderful. Kalsgard was certainly something. I can’t believe so many people can fit in one city!” Hymn chirped as she added another piece of firewood to the bundle under her arm.

“There are actually bigger cities in Golarion. Absalom dwarfs Kalsgard by quite a bit,” Yulia replied as she straightened up her kimono. She wore the garment all the time nowadays. Aside from being surprisingly durable, she was able to keep in good condition with her magic. A little Mending and Prestidigitation went a long way.

“My goodness,” Hymnalaya murmured under her breath.

The cousins worked in relative silence for the next ten minutes. It had been a long trek for the Desnan Guardians (and their guest), so they were relatively tired, and talk was scarce.

Hymn kept pausing every so often, though.

“I think we’re being watch, Cousin Yuyu,” Hymnalaya said an hour later as she and her cousin finished collecting firewood.

The Snowcaster had informed her about that feeling quite a bit.

“Every time Mom’s searched the area, she hasn’t found anything,” Yulia said reassuringly, not trying to seem like she was trying to discredit her cousin. A couple of years ago, she probably would have done just that, but the druids not listening to their gut instincts had gotten them ambushed by Kalvan cannibals.

“I know, but still…” Hymn insisted with a soft frown. She began scanning their surroundings again very carefully via her orange eyes but eventually shrugged and sighed when she failed to spot anything.

“I think we have firewood,” Yulia said after a long pause. “Come on. Let’s get back to camp.”

OoOoO

Yulia had not slept well that night. The blonde half-elf felt rather weary after being constantly told that something might be watching them, so she had gone to bed early. However, instead of being welcomed by Desna’s sweet dreams, she just had restless periods of blackness. It was very worrying, and truth be told, rather frightening.

“Cousin Yulia, have you seen Roxas?” Hymnalaya said from beside her as she sat up on her sleeping mat.

Roxas was Hymn’s tiger companion, another child of Trigva. She had bonded with the cub during her first month, and Hilda had more than happy to hand him over to her niece-in-law.

“Wasn’t he just with you? I saw him all curled up by your blankets,” Yulia replied with a tired yawn as she too curled up.

“Must have wandered off,” Hymn mused to herself as she stood up and put on her boots. With a stretch, she exited their tent and proclaimed, “I will return shortly.”

She didn’t.

After thirty minutes of failing to sleep and waiting for her cousin to return, Yulia grumbled and sat up. With a yawn, she began looking around her tent on a whim. She searched rather absentmindedly the first time, but her second glance was more careful.

“Darn it! I left the Book by the fire again, didn’t I? Desna help me, I need to be better about that,” the half-elf quickly muttered to herself as she threw off her blankets and began dressing to go out.

OoOoO

Yulia cursed herself for being careless. Seriously! According to her father, the Book of the Titan was potentially an extremely powerful artifact. Actually, it likely was; it had given her the knowledge to make the world’s best stealth accessory by total accident.

As it turned out, the Book was not by the fire ring where she was sure she last left it. It also seemed that none of the other Desnans knew where it was either. Moreover, her cousin was still missing. Yulia knew that tracking a druid in the wilderness (especially with her pitiful skills) would prove to be a fruitless endeavor, so she focused her attention on the Book.

That was until she felt something bump its tiny head against her leg. She looked downward and saw a tiny tiger looking right back at her with panicked blue eyes.

“...Roxas? What’re you doing here? Where’s Hymn?” Yulia asked the tiger kitten as if he could respond. Much to her surprise, he grabbed her pants leg and began tugging. “You want me to follow you?”

More tugging. Something suddenly clicked in her head. With a sigh, Yulia nudged him away and began moving forward.

Only a second after she did, Roxas let go and began running off in a seemingly random direction. When he realized that she wasn’t following, the tiger cub stopped in his tracks and turned right back at her. Yulia frowned. Without really thinking her options through, acting completely on impulse, she ran after Roxas.

When she lost sight of him, Yulia realized that she was deep in the Grungir Forest.

OoOoO

The Semi-Druid’s terrible tracking skills quickly told her that she was lost. No, lost was too soft of a description. The half-elf was hopelessly lost.

Her mother had told her much about the Grungir Forest. It was where the border of the First World and the Material Plane met. On one hand, it housed the oldest temple to Desna in the world. On the other, it was filled with insane, powerful fey and mighty Linnorms like Fafnheir himself.

Naturally, Yuila activated her enhanced invisibility once she realized the full scope of her predicament. It would probably do nothing if she ran into Fafnheir, but it would hopefully protect her from the sight of the local fey. It had fooled her father’s See Invisibility spell, and the Sage Sorcerer was certainly no slouch in terms of magical power.

Cold iron sickle drawn and ready, the invisible Yulia wandered aimlessly for what felt like hours. She kept her emerald green eyes peeled for anything. In fact, she was expecting anything to come at her in the depths of this crazy forest.

Well, almost anything. A dead Lamashtu cultist was honestly the last thing she expected.

She immediately recognized the deceased man’s holy symbol; any Desnan worth their dreams knew the Mark of the Jackal by sight. She inspected the body carefully and eventually concluded that he had died from a scimitar to the chest. Her friend Dove’s weapon inflicted similar injuries. Her missing cousin also just happened to wield a scimitar. Yulia almost wrote if off as a coincidence, but then she noticed the boot marks.

As bad a tracker as she was, the half-elf knew that they weren’t human like the cultist. Even if their spacing indicated running, the prints had an air of grace to them. Not unlike those of an elf…

After looting the cultist’s body (spoils of war), Yulia pressed forward. Finding the Book or the exit could wait. She had a cousin to help.

OoOoO

Great job, Yuyu. You let the first Snowcaster elf in history to venture out past Elfmeet wander off and get herself killed. Dad depends on you to be the bridge between two cultures, and you fail him. Yeesh, he’s never going to recover from this failure.

Perhaps she was being a bit too hard on herself (no one had said anything about her being a bridge between cultures), but her fruitless search was wearing her down.

Fortunately, Desna’s luck seemed to be with her and then some. Her was actually doing a decent job following her cousin’s trail. True, Yulia had encountered an another two cultists, but her invisibility (even if she had to reactivate it after attacking) had allowed her to easily overpower them.

For a moment, she felt hopeful.

And then she (rather literally) ran into him.

In all honesty, it could have been worse. He was not Fafnheir the Great. Out of all that lurked in the forest, the Father of All Linnorms was the worst thing that Yulia could have stumbled upon. However, as little as she knew about Fafnheir, she knew that the creature she ran into was not him. The scales were moonlight silver instead of midnight black.

The Linnorm was a crafty one. Immediately after she bumped into him, he whirled around and began sniffing the air. but kept her growling yellow eyes peeled on the ground. The fey dragon’s sense of smell did not seem to immediately detect, which momentarily made Yulia a bit smug. She truly was impossible to find in this state. The half-elf decided to tip-toe around the beast and keep moving.

She completely failed to see twig her left boot landed broke.

The silver Linnorm immediately turned to face her direction and belted her with… something. Whatever it was, it destroyed her shroud of concealment and briefly shorted out many of her magical items. The beast lazily raised a massive claw, but Yulia’s divine intuition quickly kicked in and allowed her to barely dodge the blow.

Yulia quickly blurted out the first thing to come to mind, “I MEAN NO HARM!”

By some crazy twist of fate, she picked the right words. Her foe abruptly paused what would have been another claw swing. He quickly placed his paw back on the ground, and his piercing yellow eyes regarded her intently. Yulia recognized that he was giving her a few seconds to explain herself.

A few precious seconds.

“I apologize for my… rudeness, Great Son of Fafnheir. I am not here to fight. I’m looking for someone, and I kept invisible for my own protection.”

The beast kept listening. He must have been an older Linnorm. Unlike their younger, beastial kin, Yulia recalled they sometimes behaved like their father and humored mortals.

“ My cousin is missing. She ran into some Lamastu cultists. I just want to find her and leave in peace. Is that acceptable?”

The silver Linnorm said nothing.

“Do you want an offering?” Yulia asked weakly, her hand so tight on her little sickle that she felt like it was going to break the handle.

His voice was deep and booming. It felt timeless.

“And what could an ant offer Jörmungandr?”

“...Anything Jörmungandr wants?” Yulia felt herself whispering, trying to play up to her foe’s sense of greed. To her credit, she was at least trying to keep a brave face.

Jörmungandr’s long tail twitched.

“Good answer, little one,” he said in an eerily soothing tone. “I shall now think of an acceptable… offering.”

There was a very long moment of silence. On a whim, Yulia tried to reactive her ring, but whatever the silver Linnorm had hit her with still seemed to be nullifying its power.

“...What draws a mighty Linnorm like yourself to this area?” Yulia asked without thinking, though she was careful to stroke his ego.

“A sacrifice,” Jörmungandr answered casually as he began to pace/slither around her spot in the clearing. He still seemed to be thinking about what he wanted from the tiny mortal before him.

“...A sacrifice?”

“Yes. I saw the cultists you speak of. They are heading to Desna’s eldest shrine. They seek to destroy it.”

“...Moonwing’s Bough? How could they destroy it?” Yulia asked more to herself than to the beast. She knew offhandedly that the temple was made from some of the mightiest Thassilonian stone in all the land. It was harder than adamantine, timeless as the First World, and impervious to all magic.

“An artifact, one of greater power than most others in this world,” he responded nonchalantly. He paused his circling and lowered his large draconic head ever so slightly. “When drenched in the blood of a martyr, someone of great worth cut down in their prime, the Book of the Titan unlocks a great and terrible power of untold destruction. If used on Moonwing’s Bough, Desna will suffer.”

Yulia quickly threw the pieces of the puzzle together. In all honesty, she had no reason to believe the big scary Linnorm, but something told her that he was telling the absolute truth. She had once heard that Fafnheir had advised the Runelords of Thassilon, who had ruled during the time Moonwing’s Bough had been built. It was certainly possible that one of his eldest sons would know a lot about it.

And old artifacts like the Book of the Titan.

Jörmungandr spoke again.

“As for his offering, in five years time, Jörmungandr will come and take your three greatest treasures,” he said simply as he began to walk away into depths of the forest. “In the meantime, go. Ready yourself, ant. Rise.”

And as quickly as he had appeared, Jörmungandr was gone.

OoOoO

Once her ring started working again, a very numb Yulia managed to stumble her way to Moonwing’s Bough.

Her silver Linnorm friend had been telling the truth. Hymnalaya and a few other individuals she didn’t know were securely tied up and guarded. One of the sacrifices had been killed, and they were using his blood to paint circles all over the shrine. Yulia’s eyes drifted over to one of the cultists. He was shrouded in a heavy black cloak. While covered most of him up, Yulia noticed that he had snow white hair, not unlike her father.

In his arm, he held the Book.

How had they stolen it from under the noise of several Desnans? Heck, how had they tracked her down to steal it?

Yulia was not given much more time to think. One of the cultists grasped Hymn by the hair and began dragging her toward the blood circle. Even though she was gagged, she could hear the young Snowcaster screaming and weeping. Her capturer abruptly stopped and kicked her in the face to silence her.

Yulia snapped.

She would never quite remember all the details of the battle. She did recall holding herself together for a few more precious seconds. After hitting the remaining guards with Hold Person and jamming her sickle through his face, she had freed the hostages and tossed the weapons she had collected from the other cultists. From there, any semblance of a plan had quickly derailed into her using her ring and divine Desnan magic to wreck havok on her surprised enemies.

Something about the temple and her connection to its patron goddess seemed to empower her. That or it was just sheer motivation. Whatever the case, Hymn would later inform Yulia that her performance was nothing short of awe inspiring. Enemy throats were slit right and left with the precision of a well-oiled Thassilonian machine. She dodged all enemy attacks and shrugged off all spells thrown her way.

Her fury subsided when the half-elf had faced down the apparent leader, the cultist with the book. As it turned out, he had been much more problematic than her lackies. His magical assaults were harder to resist, he withstood any attempt for Yulia to stun him via Hold Person, and he was quite handy with his weapon.

Still, the Semi-Druid lacked the power to completely fall off the perception grid. Once Yulia recalled that advantage, she quickly used it. She first snatched back the Book, which quickly glowed upon contact with its rightful owner. After that, the half-elf wasted no time in taking a swing with her sickle and striking her foe across his face. The cultist’s hood fell off as he fell to the ground, grasping his bleeding wound.

Yulia abruptly paused when she finally got a good look at her enemy.

In many ways, she looked just like her cousin and her father, except something was deadly wrong. Her skin was obsidian black. Her eyes were a deep crimson red.

Yulia’s pause gave her foe enough time to counterattack. She quickly threw up a cloud of darkness. Not wanting to be gutted, Yulia quickly turned invisible again and backed away. Once she could see the light of the moon again, she began checking her surroundings. She stayed on guard for the longest time before something became apparent; the oddly colored Snowcaster had used the darkness to flee.

And for good reason.

Yulia had somehow hacked her way through eight cultists. Even with the element of surprise, it was still quite a feat for one woman. Still keeping her guard up, Yulia called out her cousin’s name, cursing herself for not keeping better track of her or the other hostages.

“Cousin Yuyu?” a soft whisper finally spoke up.

Once she found Hymnalaya, it proved to be impossible to get the shocked elven woman off of her. She readily returned the hug.

Meanwhile, the Book of the Titan kept glowing.

OoOoO

Present Day…

OoOoO

Imperia’s mouth opened, clearly ready to unleash a barrage of questions.

“Shortly after she found Roxas a ways from the camp, Hymn saw them stealing the book. She cast Animal Messenger on Roxas to inform me and tried to stop them herself. Other than Lamastu telling them, I have no idea how the cultists tracked me and the Book down.

“I’m not sure if destroying the Bough would have actually made Desna suffer like that Linnorm claimed, but I still couldn’t let them sacrifice my cousin. Putting aside the fact that she’s family, it would have destroyed the Lands relationship with the Snowcasters. As for the Book’s supposed power of mass destruction, I don’t know; I’ve never murdered someone and painted it with their blood to see if it exists. My favorite color is blue.”

Imperia’s mouth closed.

There was a moment of silence.

“...What was a drow doing so far north?” Imperia pondered silently to herself.

Yulia the Winter Wolf raised a white eyebrow. Of all the ones her friend could ask, that question was certainly a strange question.

“Drow? What’s a drow?” Yulia inquired.

“A dark elf. It’s strange. Sometimes, when elves become extremely wicked, they changed. Their skin darkens to obsidian black, their hair becomes snow white, and their eyes turn blood red. They were supposedly legend until recently.”

“...Explain,” Yulia asked semi-politely. Intentionally or not, her toothy grin automatically added an edge to anything she said. “In more than ten words.”

Rolling her eyes, Imperia nodded and continued, [b]“Five or six years ago, a group of them tried to drop meteors on Varisia and Kyonin. Daddy and I were in Riddleport at the time, so it was a very close call. A rather peculiar group assembled itself to stop them, including one of my father’s marines. To my knowledge, they succeeded, but we came very close to second Earthfall.”

It was Yulia’s turn to roll her eyes. “Why does it seem like we’re always one step away from the end of the world?”

“I have no idea,” Imperia deadpanned as she seemed to drift off slightly. After a moment of silence, she said, “She might have been a Snowcaster at some point. I don’t know of any other elves sans Forlorn who live remotely close to the Lands. Her familiarity with the book also postulates many questions. Perhaps it has origins relating to the Snowcasters’ old civilization. Maybe one of Lamashtu’s champions used it in the past, and it thus became a part of their mythos. Tell me, Yulia, was that the last time you saw her?”

The Winter Wolf paused at the weight of the implications in her friend’s words before staring blankly at her paws.

“It wasn’t.”

To be continued…