The crew exchange glances. After a moment, the captain tries a different tack.
"You say there are people to the north of here who build halls of stone and dig metal from the ground, but they do not bring on this doom you've just told us of. How do they do this, if they don't follow your ways?"
Amka shrugs. "The Röskarí are different. Perhaps their land is too far from Ulamuq's prison for their works to affect it. Perhaps the magic that pervades their land protects the prison from their actions. Perhaps their stories of giant blood are true, and they're simply different from other men. I do not know."
The captain nods, not satisfied with her answer but satisfied she does not know what he asks. "When we are finished here, we should make contact with these Röskarí. If they have boats, they must have a harbor where we could anchor."
The navigator clucks her tongue and asks no one in particular, "I wonder why ibn Rashad made no mention of these Jotunblooded?"
Amka smiles. "I would not be surprised that he didn't. Graenirvellir is protected by a powerful enchantment, laid by the Green King who watches over the forests of the Other Place. Only those who are looking for it can find it. If you don’t know it’s there, you will get turned around, or you will remember something forgotten at camp, or your eyes will play tricks with the location of the sun, or bad weather will intervene to block your travel. You will never realize you were even kept away.”
The crew exchange glances again, this time open-mouthed. After a moment of stunned silence, the captain speaks.
"I don't like this. I don't like this at all. I'm no stranger to magic, but this is something on a level I have not encountered in all my days."
He turns to the party.
"You lot are more learned in these things than me. Do you have any thoughts?"
Syper's words bring a warm smile to her face. She turns to regard him, and says kindly, "Thank you. For outlanders, you seem far kinder than the tales would have us believe."
"We are merely people, with all the capability for good and evil you know from your own people," Okoteck states.
The crew exchange glances again, this time open-mouthed. After a moment of stunned silence, the captain speaks.
"I don't like this. I don't like this at all. I'm no stranger to magic, but this is something on a level I have not encountered in all my days."
He turns to the party.
"You lot are more learned in these things than me. Do you have any thoughts?"
Okoteck hesitates a long moment, then looks to Amka. "We have tales of a great Cataclysm, wrought by the hubris of those who misused magic, which nearly tore apart the world in a distant age. Elves with powerful magic were deeply involved in it. Have you tales of something similar?"
After she answers, the tengu turns back to Captain Ferrino. "I have long thought that our records of 'Marathris's Folly' are incomplete. Surely there were more surviving archmagi? Surely not all of them agreed with the plan, surely some must have sought out a place of safety? And would not such a cataclysm have been an opening for evil forces?"
He shakes his head slightly. "With so much time between us and then, it is hard to say... but I have thought that, were I seeking to hide from a coming cataclysm, this place would have been one of the farthest I could go from it. If there are elves here with great magic, could they not be descended from such survivors of the morani? If so, I should hardly think that such a warding would be beyond their power. And do we not already know that attempts to scry upon this land have always failed?"
"We have lost so much of what was once known of magic. It would not take a great deal of preserved knowledge beyond what we have to work things that would seem impossible to our current understanding. And where better to preserve such knowledge than Thalis?"
The ship's surgeon nods appreciatively, the gears turning in his mind. He lets out a soft groan of intellectual satisfaction, of a puzzle whose key pieces have just been fitted and whose picture is beginning to resolve.
"We know for a fact some of the morani escaped to the forests of Meledon, and all manner of eldritch powers now stalk those woods. It would be quite natural if there were others."
Amka thinks for a moment before nodding. "The tales say that long ago, the world and the Beyond were one. But when a god died, his son, in his grief, sought to raise him from the dead. Our people fled across the sea to escape his monstrous hubris. No sooner had we arrived than Ulamuq rose from the sea to destroy us all, awoken by the tumult, only for the virlogan hero Nananinaqi to bind him beneath the waves."
Jaym'row has kept quiet as the others digested Amka's news and stories, focusing on digesting the hot soup. Having finished her soup and feeling sated, she sets her spoon down and says, "If that is the case, the virloga may have been protecting more than the treasures of Thalis. Perhaps they kept away treasure hunters to prevent them from tampering with this prison. I'd say we collect what we can from the surface without digging anywhere and instead scout the area, learn from those who have been living here and return to report and retire on what we can scavenge. I don't want to go down in history as one of those who unleashed an apocalypse. I'll leave that honor to other greedy idiots."
The captain nods at Jaym'row and begins speaking, his baritone echoing off the cliffs.
"I agree with Jaymie. Of course, in this case it's rather academic--this expedition was never equipped to perform any serious mining operations, merely to prospect for potential sources of high-quality ore."
The dromaar apprentice pipes up. "Speaking of ore, while you were off, we finished the palisade, so the carpenter and I went panning for gold in the river, and, well..."
He pulls out a leather pouch and pours a thimbleful of tiny glimmering nuggets into his clawed hand.
"Beautiful, isn't it?" the aiuvarin intones softly, staring at the granules with a father's pride. "That's the work of just two men working for half a day."
After allowing them a moment to bask in their achievements, the captain cuts in again.
"If the high elves still live, though, their secrets might be more valuable than mithril and gold. We must send a mission to the Röskarí to palaver, and discover what they know of the elves."
He places his empty soup bowl on the ground next to the fire and glances at Amka.
"Once, of course, you have investigated the remains of this village of yours. If we are to persuade the nobles to leave well enough alone, we must gather all the evidence we can of this Great Dark Ocean Spirit."
The cooper snorts, barely audible. "Better you lot than me," he mutters under his breath. Then he smiles broadly and says to the party, "Good luck to you folks. We couldn't do this without you."
Amka thinks for a moment before nodding. "The tales say that long ago, the world and the Beyond were one. But when a god died, his son, in his grief, sought to raise him from the dead. Our people fled across the sea to escape his monstrous hubris. No sooner had we arrived than Ulamuq rose from the sea to destroy us all, awoken by the tumult, only for the virlogan hero Nananinaqi to bind him beneath the waves."
"Not so different from our own tales... save for the last part, of course," Okoteck comments.
After allowing them a moment to bask in their achievements, the captain cuts in again.
"If the high elves still live, though, their secrets might be more valuable than mithril and gold. We must send a mission to the Röskarí to palaver, and discover what they know of the elves."
He places his empty soup bowl on the ground next to the fire and glances at Amka.
"Once, of course, you have investigated the remains of this village of yours. If we are to persuade the nobles to leave well enough alone, we must gather all the evidence we can of this Great Dark Ocean Spirit."
The tengu nods in agreement, his eyes almost seeming to glow with excitement at the thoughts of the secrets of the elves. To think, his hypothesis would be confirmed so early in their expedition! "It will be a hard sell indeed... particularly so since it would be not just our own sponsors, but that of all possible financiers."
"It may, perhaps, be easier to find out what happened to the virloga and see if it is possible to restore them... but whatever we do, it does seem like more information is our first priority. First on our opposition, and then what we can get from those who live here."
"Beautiful, isn't it?" the aiuvarin intones softly, staring at the granules with a father's pride. "That's the work of just two men working for half a day."
"Half a day?" Jade whistles, impressed. "We're gonna need a bigger boat to carry all the gold back if you keep that up."
The blacksmith's apprentice grins and chuckles with undiluted mirth, the first time any of you have seen him do so.
Amka motions Kork over to the campfire. "It seems we shall have three days to wait. What sort of tales do you wish to hear first, greenling?"
The goblin stands in the meeting as others speak. He seems lost in his thoughts. Not an unusual situation, but his brow dances on his forehead.
"Yes, yes. Very noble." he steps in when people talk about reducing the mining limits. "Kork think focusing on mining not good right now. See big picture. Goblins say 'No smell without fart.' If Tribelady's tales hold some truth, need to stop Spirit of Ocean. Bad one."
"While that happens, stop other ships from landing. Tower done?" he points above, to the cliff.
He looks at Amka after she offers her knowledge. "Start from beginning. Tribe move here from south, but Spirit already here, yes?Orca-men, also?"
Amka nods. "The virloga have lived here since before men came. They were whales gifted with intelligence by the Ocean God Muqasar to be his servants, and still protect the seas even after the gods departed the world, long ago."
Over the next three days, she tells the stories of the gods, spirits, and heroes of the frozen wastes.
Of Ha'aulaqarik, the first Saruqi spirit speaker, and his magical kayak, Sumuq, in which he flew to the moon to meet Aqaksikuk, and, by pulling a splinter from the moon spirit's eye, earned his trust and the right to walk from one world to the next, paving the way for all who would follow.
Of the virlogan hero-king Nananinaqi and his mithril harpoon, Una'aq, with which he impaled Ulamuq and bound him below the waves.
Of the greatest Saruqi hero, Qaulaqiksaruk, who spent fifty days inside the belly of the Great Whale, Arviqalut, until he could solve the beast's three riddles and return to his home.
After three days of fishing, working on the block and tackle to bring bigger items to the top of the kraton, panning for gold, conversing among each other, and listening to Amka's tales, the crew gathers to watch you depart.
You expect the trip to last less than two weeks, but you bring three weeks rations just to be sure. Hunting for game would be time consuming and is best avoided.
After five days of trekking through the taiga with Amka at the head, following the frozen river past the oxbow lake, you round the bend at half-past ten o'clock and see the Ilannaq village in the distance. Eight igloos are still standing, while four others have collapsed.
Amka grips her hatchet firmly. “A great evil visited this place. I suggest we search quickly and begone.”
The minor outlying igloos hold nothing but remnants of lives abandoned in a hurry. Unmade bedding, fishing poles with their lines unspooled, and snowshoes scattered haphazardly upon the floor are all haunting echoes of lives now gone. Oddly, there are no bodies in any of the igloos, though frozen blood melded to the walls of the ice-houses is testament to the great violence that must have taken place here.
The igloo adjacent to the main hut contains a chest that holds various medicinal and shamanistic herbs in leather pouches , as well as 2 minor elixirs of life, 2 lesser antidotes, 2 minor antiplagues, and 6 alchemist’s fires. Along the wall is a harpoon, shortbow, and a quiver containing 20 arrows.
As you enter the main hutch, you notice an elderly human figure splayed open in the center of the room. It has been torn open, and many missing pieces indicate it was at least partially devoured. Suddenly, with a series of sickening pops, the hands and head of the figure detach and begin racing toward you.
Okoteck manages to dodge the severed left hand, but the severed right hand manages to grip him by the throat and begin an attempt to seal off his airway. Distracted by the clawing hand, he fails to dodge the severed head, which takes a bite out of his side.
Hearing sounds of struggle from the main tent, Kork rushes up in that direction and sees... That. He immediately opens his cloak, swipes his weapon across a strip of blessed bacon, leaving some holy grease on the blade.and attempts to slice at the hand gripping Okoteck's throat.
- Failure. Using personal anthithesis.
"If the high elves still live, though, their secrets might be more valuable than mithril and gold. We must send a mission to the Röskarí to palaver, and discover what they know of the elves."
Kork's endless arsenal of esoterica bears fruit once more, as he spears the severed hand through the metacarpal, causing it to wriggle once and fall still.
Jaym'row takes a very protective attitude toward Amka during the journey back to the camp, the days spent there, and on the way back to the village. She makes sure no one makes any passes at her, that she has time to herself, and lets her know Jaym'row is available to listen if she needs to share her grief or other emotions.
When Amka tells stories, Jaym'row pulls out her fiddle and plays along at moments to provide a kind of sound track to fit the storyline. When Amka seems to need a break, Jaym'row will volunteer a story or a ballad from the collection she has learned and repeated over the years. These are always light-hearted stories with no violence or sad outcomes.
When exploring the igloos, Jaym'row always volunteers to look inside before Amka does so she can prepare her in case there is anything that might be disturbing. Until looking in the main lodge, this has not proved necessary.
When the undead horror threatens Oboteck, Jaym'row rushes past Kork, feints an attack on the head, and then strikes with her rapier.
if target is off-guard.
Jaym'row leaps into action, attempting to misdirect the floating head but failing. Nevertheless, the point of her blade slides straight into the creature's eyesocket and out the back of its head, causing it to cease its blasphemous levitation and collapse to the floor.
Amka hustles across the snow, followed by a furiously snarling Laika. The young huntress raises her hatchet and brings it swinging down in a rushing arc aimed squarely at the remaining hand. She strikes it and cleaves the rotting appendage cleanly in half.
Amka stares at the corpse, distraught. ”Old Man Tuparaq.” A tear slides down her cheek. “You deserved a proper burial.”
Suddenly, a mysterious odor tickles your nostrils, like none you have ever smelled before. Acrid rather, not unlike the odor of a lion, yet softer and not wholly unpleasing, with something almost sweet in it that reminds you of the scent of decaying garden leaves, earth, and the myriad nameless perfumes that make up the odor of a large forest.
Suddenly, out of the clear, cloudless blue sky, a nearly naked corpse covered in festering pustules falls from the heavens and hits the ground face-first with a sickening thud, its neck twisting to the side at an unnatural angle. Its feet are blackened as if it had stridden across hot coals, and its eye sockets are hollow voids. As you watch, their black emptiness begins to glow with a hateful yellow light, and the corpse rises to a crouch, releases an unearthly howl, and begins to dash toward you on all fours.
Okoteck writes many of Amka's stories down, as well as sketching both her and her dog. He also takes some time to try to observe the flows of magic in the area.
*************
Okoteck pants for a moment after his companions destroy the hand choking him. He's barely gotten his breath back when another horror arrives out of the sky.
"My thanks," he says to the others as he turns towards this new threat. He observes it for a moment and decides that melee in his current state is contra-indicated.
Instead he moves out of the igloo and takes up a position a bit farther back, before gesturing in a loop with the tip of his blade at the moving corpse and cawing like a crack of thunder. A loop of lightning forms briefly on his target.
19 hp.
A flash of brilliant light leaves a purple afterimage in your vision as an electric blast of energy bursts upon the undead creature. The wintry air fills with both its howl of rage and the unholy reek of charbroiled pus as its sores burst and the contents within boil under the magical assault. Its charge slows somewhat as it stumbles from the blow.
Jade unleashes her kinetic aura◆ and sends a flurry of hailstones◇ careening at the undead abomination.
Then she sends a flurry of snow◆◆ to damage and stymie the corpse's advance.
hp 16.
Supernaturally cold hailstones fly forth from Jade's palm, missing the undead creature by a large margin. With her first attack frustrated, she conjures a second, much larger flurry of hail directly above the thing and sends the freezing mass crashing to the ground. The revenant corpse dodges the brunt of the assault, but its limbs stiffen with sudden frostbite and its charge is slowed further by the slippery ice.
Syper draws his weapon, strides out of the igloo, and strikes up an anthem of mystical power to invigorate his allies.
The undead creature lopes on all fours, easily clambering over the frozen sleet and snapping at Jade with its festering jaws. She dodges out of the way, and its followup attack with its claws also falls wide of the mark.
Kork strutts up to the creature with a smile on his face. He plants his feet into the snow. "Hi!" he waves at the creature. Without missing a beat, his expression changes into a malicious one, and he immediately pushes with both hands to shove the creature down the cliff. "Bye!"
- success
The creature, its blackened feet too weak to offer much resistance, tumbles down the cliff, shrieking with unearthly rage. The snow arrests its fall, keeping it essentially unharmed.
Jaym'row hears the sounds of battle outside the ice structure and mutters, "Now what?"
She dashes out in time to note that whatever is causing the trouble is below the edge of the low cliff, so she moves around near the entrance behind a part of the structure shielding the entrance from wind. She gets out her bow and crouches behind the wall, hoping to get a surprise attack when the monster returns to battle.
Edit:
Amka draws her bow, scrambles to the edge of the small shelf, and fires. Her attack misses the creature just barely, and she snarls a curse you don't recognize.
hp 12
The tengu strides to the edge of the shelf, talons leaving their peculiar creases in the snow. Repeating his incantation from before, another bolt of lightning arcs into the creature, scorching its necrotic flesh. It isn't out of the fight by any means, but the damage is beginning to wear it down.
Jade ◆strides to get the abomination back into her sights and then sends a blast of hail◆◆ to strike it.
Her blast of hail misses the creature, hitting the snow with several loud puffs.
Syper turns and runs back over to the cliffside and looks down. "Guess that means we've got the higher ground!" he guffaws.
hp 5 out of 24.
Syper's bowshot strikes the creature in the elbow, shattering a joint already stressed from its spectacular fall from the heavens and its additional, smaller tumble a moment ago.
It gets on all fours and moves with preternatural speed around the rock shelf, stumbling through the hail and snow, barreling down on the little goblin who threw him off the edge.
Kork is happy with himself, and pats his hands as if to clean them up. When he looks around, the creature is there again. His eyes widen. "You again?"
He sighs, runs around the creature and attempts to slice it twice.
◆ Stride, ◆ Strike, ◆ Strike