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Frost Giant in Icy Vale
Posted: 13 Feb 2007 08:00 AM |
A female Frost Giant entered Icy Vale today, permitted to pass through by the local militia after she explained that she came in peace. The Giant was seen heading for Spirit Lake and is believed to have entered the Ice Palace. She has not passed back through Icy Vale since.
The inhabitants of the Vale keep their silence on the matter, but the giant footprints are testament to her passing. |
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Re: Frost Giant in Icy Vale
Posted: 14 Feb 2007 07:14 PM |
((OOC: The events in this post are known ONLY to those who were present for it, therefore please RP accordingly))
“Lady, a frost giant priestess has travelled far to seek an audience at the Ice Palace.”
As usual, Seargent Welter did not lose many words and returned to his militiamen to announce the orders for the day.
Entering the temple Aurelya looked left and right into the multiples of pictures the mirrors drew of her, until her gaze met a huge crystalblue figure. With a grating voice ringing like crystal in the acoustically-enhanced chamber, and an undertone like the grinding of glaciers the frost giant greeted her, then set the base of her dire mace against the polished floor to offer a ceremonial bow.
“I wish to make an appeal. May we speak here, or shall we speak elsewhere?”
Aurelya motioned towards her back. “Please, follow me, Priestess.”
She offered the giant to sit on the cushions in the corner of the room, since the couches most certainly were not built for a creature of that size. The giant priestess nodded after casting a dubious look at the tiny cushions and eased herself down into a sitting position, legs crossed and hands atop her knees.
“Well, Priestess, what brought you so far from Ishlak´s Realm to the temple?”
Aurelya kept standing, but still had to look upwards.
“An appeal, Priestess. Of late, there have been a number of incursions into the Ischlak Realm.” The giant replied with a dispassionate tone, cold rather than hot with anger.
“The Ischlak sent you?”
“He did. He is most displeased.” The lips twitched into a thin line of disapproval.
“There have been smallfolk coming regularly to our realm to slay our people and rob the dead of their wealth. We believe them to be warm ones from outside of the Cold Lands.”
Her hands, still atop her knees, twisted so that the palms faced upwards.
“I have been sent to request your protection, and your blessing.”
Pondering, Aurelya answered. “Warmlanders. Yes, they have been seen to walk the cold lands and stir up the spirits lately. Do tell me, Priestess...has one of the blessed felt a presence of the other two among these warmlanders?”
The giant woman exhaled a cloud of ice vapour through gritted teeth, her right hand closed into a fist. “We have felt... the taint of wind...”
A brow raised slightly, Aurelya nodded.
“Therefore the presence of the airheaded one´s in Icy Vale. Certainly, you will have our blessing. What can we do to protect you, Priestess? Other than investigate on that matter from our position.”
The priestess opened her right hand again bringing her palms together, and dipped her head.
“We wish to request more guardians of pure ice to defend us. This is the least and most humble of our demands.”
“The Ischlak himself offers the service of two of our elite guards to stand over the sacred cavern, in return for your protection. If it pleases you, we will send them once our realm is safe.”
Aurelya inclined her head slightly to the side.
“The temple would welcome these guards, of that I am sure.
So be it, Priestess. I have to ask you to stay, and prepare the ritual with us to plead the Mistress for her protection. I shall inform Aurora and the Priestesses to gather soon.”
“As you command. You will relay word to the Ischlak, then, Priestess?”
The frost giant clambered to her feet with difficulty, stooped low beneath a ceiling not built for her height.
Not answering her Aurelya murmured barely noticeable and closed her eyes. In the opposite corner of the room an ice mephit began to materialize, flapping its wings and watching the two priestesses expectatingly.
“Servant of the Mistress. Do travel to the Ischlak, and send the greetings of the temple. Let him know that we will support him, and call spirits of ice to protect his realm.
That is all. Be on your way.”
“Yerssss Priesterssss” the mephit hissed and gave a sudden snap of its wings to soar off.
The giant woman touched the tips of her fingers and thumbs together in mute acknowledgement.
“I will meditate outside, Priestess. Until the time we must meet again…farewell.”
“We will prepare. May the coldness free your mind, Priestess. Farewell.”
As the frost giant priestess squeezed herself through the doorway to the temple entrance Aurelya turned and walked to the throne.
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Portraits: zip.rar
PRAISE HECK, FOR HIS NAME IS HECK, AND JUST HECK! |
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Re: Frost Giant in Icy Vale
Posted: 14 Feb 2007 07:34 PM |
At the gates leading to the Cold Canyon a small statue had been placed. A bird, caged in a block of ice, its wings spread and the beak opened as if caught in the middle of a song. A poem is written in silver letters on the icy cage...
(direct link)
A bird, roaming free
In the frozen lands
That bird was me
Beyond the icy sea
Unleashing storms
That bird was me
A place not allowed to be
Hunter becoming prey
That bird was me
Wrath stroke, so grimly
No more I fly
That bird is me
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Portraits: zip.rar
PRAISE HECK, FOR HIS NAME IS HECK, AND JUST HECK! |
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Re: Frost Giant in Icy Vale
Posted: 23 Feb 2007 05:46 AM |
((OOC: The events in this post are known ONLY to those who were present for it yet, therefore please RP accordingly))
Aurora slid her blades away in an elaborate movement as the lower-ranking priestess approached. Kalla licked the hand Aurelya offered her, and the women bowed slightly to each other.
“Lady. We need to talk.”
Aurora snapped her fingers at Kalla, who sat quietly beside the throne. “Indeed. Let us adjourn to the lounge.”
“When last we spoke," Aurora began, "you mentioned outsiders requesting a passageway. I cannot say that I see any reason to indulge them.”
“Yes…a priestess was sent by the Ischlak, to ask for our help and protection. She remains outside, I gave our word to perform a ritual to call the spirits to protect them.”
“Our help and protection? Have these so-called Atalan invaded the Ischlak Realm?” Aurora’s eyes narrowed.
“No. The outsiders. And most of all, such following the airheaded one. Ravaged the realm, and killed and plundered of the Ischlak´s people. I thought that was more the way of the fiery bitch´s servants, but well...”
The corners of Aurelya's lips turned down in distaste. “It will be dealt with.”
Icily, Aurora answered. “That it will.”
“Of course, the recent events and the report from the Priestess changes the situation significantly.”
“How so?”
“Just as you mentioned, no reason to indulge them. The attacks, their blatant disrespect for the frozen lands, I do not plan to let them gain any favor from us.”
Aurora gave a sharp nod. “A wise decision. Let us speak of it no more and discuss more important matters. These reports of the Atalan begin to concern me. I am relieved to hear that they have not struck the Ischlak's Realm.”
“As I have heard they attacked places that let them plunder resources for the upcoming war. So Ischlak´s realm might not have been of any interest, yet.”
Aurora replied grimly. “They shall have no more of ours. Nor shall any other outsiders. I delegate to you the authority to prepare whatever defences you deem necessary for our people - the Ischlak, the Jarl, the Vyrka Helkrilas.”
She paused slightly, then continued speaking. “Icy Vale... is expendable. It may be within our lands, but it is as much a part of us as an eyelash or a hair. It may be shed. It is no longer of any value now that the Gladden Farmlands have been lain to waste.”
“What concerns me is that the Duergar are allied with the Atalan. And an entrance to their realm lies in the center of the cold canyon.”
“What do you propose must be done with them?”
“I am uncertain. On one hand, I suppose the presence of the whites in the canyon most probably would not have them do something there. Apart from that, they probably know that their ‘entrance’ could be sealed.”
“If you believe it necessary to warn them, then do so. If you think that a more peaceful arrangement is in order, then that too is acceptable. They are... of no consequence, so long as they leave our people alone.”
Aurelya nodded. “I will have to inform the parties you mentioned though. The Ischlak, the Jarl, the Vyrka.
“Was there anything else you wished to ask before you set out?”
“No, I know what must be done. If I have further questions I will come back at you.” With these words Aurora pushed the chair back and rose fluidly to her feet.
Aurora held up a hand, her palm facing forward and fingers slightly curled. “Farewell to you, Aurelya. Go with the blessing of the Mistress.”
Aurelya offered a slight bow before she left to gather her belongings for the journey ahead. “Farewell to you, Aurora.”
~
The Mountains towered above the smallish ravine, and the chill winds blew down it, kicking up powdery snow as it swirled in the bleak air. A cluster of pines grew in the ravine's basin, barely concealing something which—through the dense, falling snow—looked like some sort of temple or shrine. Beneath a tree, Aurelya recognized two small shimmering dots, and another, more precise look revealed one of the strong white wolves trained by the Frostfolk.
With ample footsteps a man approached her. From his garbs she identified him one of the Mirnos. Thick pelts protected him from the cold winds and he had a waraxe shouldered by his side. After a formal greeting and introduction, he listened to her quietly.
Aurelya gave him a brief explanation of the Atalan and their allies, the current situation of the warmlanders and what areas had been affected so far. Despite the blank look on his face the man caught up quickly.
“How may we best prepare against such a formidable enemy?”
“For now, send your best scouts regularly, prepare your defences and have your shamans to watch the area by magical means. Do keep the gates closed, perhaps strengthen the walls if possible."
He nodded sharply. “Do you wish the Spiritwalkers of the mountains to also be forewarned, Priestess?”
“Yes. Send word to all in your reach.”
“There is a small encampment of them near us. We will attempt to send word to them.”
“Very well. Make sure your leader receives the message as soon as possible, as well as the Visaak. Please inform us incase you have news, we shall do likewise.”
“Yes, Priestess. Do you require anything else?”
Aurelya was just about to reply in the negative when she looked at the path leading to the glacier. “Indeed…I must inform the Jarl, and I know the paths change in the mountains over time…”
The Frostfolk warrior half-turned and forced a sharp whistle through his teeth. “Gerrun!”
One of the wolves growled in response. After giving the wolf commands in an odd language, the warrior turned back to Aurelya.
“Gerrun will lead you to the Jarl, Priestess. Will that be acceptable?”
“Of course, thank you. May the Mistress watch over you.” She murmured a short blessing as the warrior swung his axe gracefully in a parting gesture.
“You honour us, Priestess.” Were his last words before he turned and headed to the village nearby immediately.
Gerrun, a beautiful white winter wolf, peered at her through narrowed eyes. Another growl and he lowered his head to the snowy ground, sniffled instinctively and walked off at a trot.
He led her over passes covered in deep snow, drifting to unknown depths in parts; through woods that did not seem to end, icicles forming upon drooping branches, and thin ice carpets hiding small ponds. Every now and then he stopped, sniffing, and raised his head with a growl to warn of dangers ahead.
The harsh winds grew stronger as they reached Helkrun Lake. Ice cracked and crumbled down from foreboding cliffs and the mountains that surrounded the valley, and the distant howls of wolves lent the place a menacing eeriness. Looming through the heavy snowfall and cracks of lightning was a massive building. It was built from wood and stone and dominated the small valley by Helkrun Lake, surrounded by towering peaks. Spires rose into the winter sky, casting their shadows upon the freshly-fallen snow.
Gerrun stopped and waited patiently at the gates. As Aurelya approached, a Frost Giant lumbered towards her slowly with a low rumbling sound in his throat. He looked down on her, squinting; upon recognising her as a priestess, he relaxed the grip on the huge hammer he was carrying with ease.
After they exchanged introductions, the Frost Giant—Jord—lowered himself to one knee to listen from a better height. Aurelya gave him a short explanation and the reasons for her coming. Eventually the giant stood again, the ice beneath him crumbling with the movement.
“If it is an audience with the Jarl that you seek, I will tell him of your coming. He would not turn down an emissary of the Queen of our lands. Enter, Priestess, the Jarl will see you now.”
Following Jord closely, she made her way through the gates and a large courtyard, passing white wyrmlings that twirled their heads oddly to look at the guest, and other giants patrolling the vast lot. Inside the keep the Jarl awaited them; before him stood either a woman or a statue, perfectly still. Jord bowed low to the Jarl, then turned and stomped out. Following his example, Aurelya bowed from a distance, whilst Gerrun sat at her side.
“I greet you, Jarl.”
The Jarl acknowledged the bow with the barest of nods. “We do not often receive envoys from the Queen herself. To what do we owe the honour, Priestess?”
“I am here to bring a message from the temple.”
He held out his left hand, palm up. “Proceed.”
“There is a threat in the land of the outsiders. The temple thinks we need to prepare as this threat might also invade the lands of our Mistress. What I am speaking of are the Atalan. A folk of dark elves, that used to live beneath the surface, but attacked and devastated several places recently and obviously prepares for war.”
She paused for a moment, then continued as the Jarl seemed to remain silent to let her finish her explanations.
“No places of our lands. Yet. Therefore I travel Her domain to inform who has to know. The Atalan remain unseen, then strike in a few seconds. So far none of the outsiders but the elves in Ferein were able to withstand their attack. And that was simply by cutting off their realm from the rest of the world. I should add, they have allies. Dark dwarves that dwell beneath the canyon where the Great One resides.”
The sound of his rumbling voice filled the chamber. “These small Elves must be formidable indeed if you feel the need to warn our people. Is their magic formidable? Or their strength? How shall we prepare?”
“As I have heard, and seen myself, they have skilled mages in their rows. Their strength lies in their sudden attacks. They remain unseen for most, then strike deadly. We need scouts to roam the land, especially the Whipsnade Pass; other parts are covered by the Vyrka and the Ischlak.”
There was still no movement from that beautiful female figure in front of him, not even at his resounding deep voice.
“Our sentinels see through all illusions and magic veils. Perhaps you saw them outside. I offer two of our scouts to accompany you, Priestess. One for the pass which the warm folk call Whipsnade, and one to return with you to the sacred cavern. We have only a few of our own, but they are yours to command, Priestess.”
“Thank you, Jarl. As for defences, I know you will take care of your people and know what has to be done. Yet your shamans would be of help if they feel the stir in the domain, and join the meditations…”
She paused at the sound of flapping wings as two white wyrmlings approached, and stopped mid-air right behind her. The Jarl glanced at them in recognition, and replied.
“I will inform them thus. They will await further instruction on the performing of the rituals. I am uncertain how much assistance we could provide outside of the Helkrun Realm. The pass that the nearby small folk call Beldin's Pass obstructs our way. We lack the mobility of the small races, this is why we do not venture.” He held out his left hand again. “However, we will do whatever we can.”
Aurelya offered him a nod and slowly raised her hands palms upwards, expressing her gratitude with an elegant motion. “A last question…do the giants on the glacier belong to you, Jarl? They would need to be informed as well.”
“They do not. They are another tribe... The Llurgar. But we have the means to contact them, so they shall be informed.”
“Very well. Thank you, Jarl, for your help. We will contact you again should it be necessary."
“Then we will await word. The forces of Helkrun are Her Majesty's to command. Farewell, Priestess.” He dismissed the priestess with another barely visible nod.
Aurelya bowed slightly. “May you be blessed with a touch of cold. Farewell, Jarl.”
Gerrun jumped to his feet when she turned and stepped outside, followed by two wyrmlings. A long way back to the sacred cavern lay ahead. Preparations for the frozen lands were underway. |
Portraits: zip.rar
PRAISE HECK, FOR HIS NAME IS HECK, AND JUST HECK! |
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Intermission
Posted: 24 Feb 2007 09:04 AM |
*Click*
*Tick tick tick whirrrr*
*Toctoc tictoc*
*Bzzzt*
"Yes, it just needs a little more work. It's a wound in Time. It mustn't be allowed to heal." |
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Re: Intermission
Posted: 26 Feb 2007 01:11 AM |
"No, no, no! This wont do at all!' the tiny ice imp squealed.
"She wants to see you all personally she does! Yes, yes, yes!"
"Must call on Shala to move you. Fizzin is much to small he is! Especially orcies. All full of warm fat they are! Not so warm now though!" The imp cackled.
~~The statues in the cavern began to tremble. It was as if the earth beneath them was vibrating. The tiny imp flew in circles giggling to himself. Into the cavern walked a massive hulking frost giant. Covered in blueish-grey armor. His gaze leveled down at the statues and then to the imp.~~
"Take, take, take! She wants them. Wants them all! To her temple you go! Make haste!" The imp whined.
~~Without a word the giant picked up the three warriors and stuffed them into a giant bear skin sack. Hours later he pulled them out. One by one he set them down. Each in its own special place. When his task was done the giant turned and made his way out of the temple. As for Ophelia, Vrodo and Trsitan, the three statues, they were in their new home. How long are they to stay?
Only Helkris knows. |
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COLD
Posted: 26 Feb 2007 11:19 AM |
Can't Move.
Endless Cold.
Fear.
Not Dead.
Not Alive |
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Winter
Posted: 26 Feb 2007 01:20 PM |
Tristian wanted to believe that there would be someone coming for him. He wanted to believe that Bereil would have a plan, a method of saving the three of them from their icy tomb. He wanted to believe that he was cared about, even for a miniscule of a second.
However, he could feel nothing. emotions ceased to exist, as did thought, logic, reason, compassion, or anger.
All that was left... was encased, solid. Cold to the touch.
Forever. |
Tristian and Elghinn.
NWN logon =UltimatiumOmega
Lost item: Fire Bomb
Tristian Vike damages Erin: 19 (19 Fire)
Tristian Vike damages Tristian Vike: 7 (7 Fire)
Tristian Vike damages Kard Snyder: 10 (10 Fire) |
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Priorities.
Posted: 27 Feb 2007 09:03 PM |
A few days ago, in the cold lands...
Barely visible three figures made their way through Beldin´s Ravine, one by foot, the other two flying. Aurelya and the two white wyrmlings reached the outpost of the Frostfolk territory. Just another hour of wading through the deep snow and they would have reached the Spirit Lake. Halfway through the southern slopes of the Divider Chain Aurelya stopped, and looked thoughtfully at the wyrmlings. They were flapping just a few feet from her, looking around curiously and stirred up the snow beneath them with the swift movement of their wings.
Then she continued, without saying a word, to the Spirit Lake and finally Icy Vale. The militiamen at the border to the slopes stared at the small group, and kept staring as the wyrmlings vanished out of sight.
Aurelya just passed them with the slightest of a smile, heading towards the Whipsnade Pass. Once through the gates she glanced at one of the wyrmlings, and motioned to a spot far above the Pass only a flying creature could reach. The wyrmling rose quickly with a few strong flaps of its wings, and landed on a small ledge in the upper ranges of the pass. The camouflage was perfect.
A few minutes later the priestess and her follower reached the Cold Canyon. After the gates were shut she murmured a short blessing. Within the blink of an eye her body melted with the surroundings in an ethereal silhouette. The wading through the snow to the top of the canyon was tedious, but worth the effort as she could see what she was looking for eventually. A huge cavern entrance covered with huge icicles which generated an unreal beautiful sound, a melody, as the constantly blowing wind forced its way around them.
She could see from the wyrmling’s excitement how close she was. Slowly she stepped inside the cavern. The walls were covered with ice, some parts so pure and clear as a mirror. As she touched the icy layer a loud rumbling voice boomed in her ears.
“What brings you to the sacred lair, small mortal?”
From the dark of the cavern the huge white head of a dragon took shape, and a pair of crystalline eyes surveyed her, obviously awaiting an answer.
Overwhelmed by the sight Aurelya cleared her throat.
“My name is Aurelya. I am a pries..”
The dragon interrupted her.
“Priestess of the Mistress of Time. That is known to us. Now answer the question.”
Aurelya nodded once slowly. Of course they would know, otherwise they would not waste their time dealing with an interloper.
“I am here to ask for an audience with the Blessed One, regarding a possible threat from outside the Mistress’ domain, the dark elves called the Atalan.”
The huge head motioned a slight nod, then vanished in the darkness again.
“Yes. We expected this. Follow, Priestess.”
The ground trembled slightly under the movement of the white dragon. Eventually she could see the whole body of the creature as they reached a large chamber filled with phosphorescent light that emanated from millions of small crystals beneath the icy floor. The white dragon remained sitting near the left wall, as another tremble, this time noticeably stronger, shook her body.
A huge shadow projected to the cavern´s walls slowly began to suppress the light. With huge steps the white dragon that let any other appear small in size moved towards Aurelya. Although she had seen him before as he fought back the Naruthians and nearly defeated Brimscale in Gladden the sight and pure beauty of this dragon was mind-blowing.
Gracefully Frezzt stopped and sat in front of her, and two eyes shimmering as the crystals beneath her feet gazed at her.
“What is your desire, Priestess?”
His voice was the strong and deep voice of a dragon, yet calm and resonating.
“I would not have disturbed the Great One needlessly.” she began.
“A threat from the lands outside of the Mistress’ domain begins to concern us.”
“The Atalan.” Frezzt simply said.
“Yes, Great One, and their allies. The dark dwarves, and as I have heard two dragons, one being called the Deep Dragon, the other being an…undead dragon.”
Frezzt watched her through narrowed eyes.
“Now you want to learn about the dragonkin, and your enemy, the Atalan, Priestess.” It was merely a rhetorical question, obviously.
“Yes, if you would share your wisdom with us.”
His gaze still rested on her, his eyes piercing her.
“There is something else you wish to ask.”
She blinked, then nodded once. “I know there is a white dragon watching over the glacier far up the Divider Chains. Since we have scouts…” she looks to the wyrmling briefly “…positioned at the important entrance to Her realm I wondered if he would continue his watch incase of an appearance of the Atalan.”
Frezzt kept looking at her silently, as if estimating her inner self. She lost herself in his eyes and it felt like hours, yet it was a mere few seconds. Finally he raised his voice.
“Then listen, Priestess of Helkris.”
The crystalline white wyrm drew himself up to his formidable full height, making no move to diminish his stature to put her at ease.
“Little of what occurs outside Her Majesty’s realm is of interest to us. The lives of the imperfect warm ones that dwell outside our realm are insignificant."
"When the Elves left Fangduin, allowing us to annex their once-hideous green lands, we lost all interest in them and all track of them."
"We are not aware of this Undead Dragon of whom you speak; as for the Deep Dragon... there are a number of candidates as to whom that may be. It hardly matters.”
There was a pause as he exhaled a cloud of glittering ice vapour.
“The existence of the Atalan is only known to us because of the Duergar who dwell nearby.” He let out a deep growl of contempt. “Speak to them, if you believe you must; but I am of the opinion that it would be a waste of your time.”
The white wyrm’s eyes narrowed dangerously, the growl becoming almost a roar.
“More important than the nebulous threat of these Atalan is the ill wind that sweeps through our Queen’s realm. The stench of storm winds stirs in the air.”
“I have been told of incursions into the Ischlak’s Realm by one of his shamans, Great One,” the Priestess replied. “Followers of the airheaded enemy have been slaying the Ischlak’s people and plundering their wealth. It is... being dealt with.”
“See to it that it is,” the dragon snarled.
He arched his long, serpentine neck, bringing his narrow skull-like head almost down to her eye level.
“There is more. These whirlwind raids are brief and sporadic, but there is the stench nearby of a more permanent presence. A foul stormcloud lurks within our very realm. It did not come to my attention until recently... as if someone, somewhere, beneath my very nose one day converted to the windbag’s ways.”
"Find this presence. Destroy it, drive it out, be rid of it. Use whatever means you have at your disposal.”
He straightened, looking down the length of his nose again at the Half-Elf.
“I trust your priorities are clear now, Priestess.”
((OOC disclaimer as usual)) |
Portraits: zip.rar
PRAISE HECK, FOR HIS NAME IS HECK, AND JUST HECK! |
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I am cold.
Posted: 08 Mar 2007 10:23 AM |
Arranged as they were, the three formed a family. To his right, the Orclun woman Ophelia. Vrodo could not see her with his eyes but he knew she was there. Before them both was Vike, who had earned trust and become Vrodo’s friend over the last several months. Vrodo saw only good things in Ophelia and she suited as mother to this group. She had the qualities of the many mothers that he knew: great ferocity in the face of danger and willingness to sacrifice herself to protect those she cared for. He and Vike, they hailed each other as phunroh, “brother” in the Orcish tongue that the human had been working to learn from them.
Yet, it was not this company that gave Vrodo a strange feeling of peace and rightness. After all of the numerous opportunities for the spirit to leave his flesh, he had finally continued in his journey and become something else.
I am cold.
This is me.
I am this piece of ice.
This cold place.
It is my place.
He revered the place with his chill. He knew stillness because the temperature never changed. He appreciated the cold winds that swirled around him, but he did not envy their motility. He had prepared for this transformation since birth, anticipated it every time he woke, clutched at it every time his spirit was returned to his body.
His spirit had become this cold, and the cold fit him well. In his distant fading old life, cold had been Vrodo’s earliest memory. |
"What are you talking about?"
"I'm talking about dying."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"It means lying in the ground with dirt on your face and holding your breath forever."
-Burt Reynolds, "The End" |
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Re: I am cold.
Posted: 13 Mar 2007 05:09 PM |
Vrodo heaved through the gateway from Coldheart Canyon into Icy Vale plastered with snow. His arms and legs were bare and crusted with ice that crackled to look like crocodile skin. His black flesh underneath washed out blue and his nose, ears and lips were burned white. His hair was frozen in locks and snow heaped on top of him and crusted his clothing. Snow plugged his nostrils and stuck his eyes shut. There was no telling how precisely he followed the track that led him to the settlement.
The picket watching that gate had seen it before. It was the look of the last living man from a patrol lost to a blizzard. It was the look of a traveller separated from his caravan who somehow, somehow lived to trek out without map or direction. It was not exactly survival. Survival is a set of skills and techniques that are put to use in staying alive. These shamblers who came into Icy Vale from time to time defied explanation. Survival is what came next for them. Many of them expired after reaching safety when that immediate purpose was satisfied.
This snow-covered orc spoke to no one and trudged past the picket, shambling directly east towards Whipsnade Pass.
He moved stiffly planting one foot ahead of the other, arms folded in front of him, paws tucked under to protect them. Easier to get along without toes than without fingers, especially for an archer.
The gateway to Whipsnade Pass was shut and he shouldered it open just enough to permit his passage. As he moved through the drifts wolves gathered to him, at first only two, then four, and then as he climbed he was confronted with the alpha of this pack, a great grey beast equal to his weight and half again over. Vrodo's objective was to get past the alpha into the freshly excavated den. In a few more weeks the den would be full of whelping pups, perfect conditions for his recovery in truth, but Vrodo knew this space in the ice would be empty until birthing time. Still, if these wolves were of a mind to build a den, they might be convinced to care for their son.
Hundred pound wolves milled around Vrodo's legs and leapt about, rammed him with their heads and bit gently at his hands. They mobbed him making it politically impossible for the alpha to drive him away. They ushered him to the den and the three females who were responsible for opening it up filed in behind him after he crawled inside. Working in tandem the cleaned Vrodo and kept him conscious, opening up his plugged airway, chewing the ice from his locks and his garments and his eyelids. He stripped off his wet garments and pushed snow into the opening of the den and the four of them slept in a huddle.
Rejoined with Ophelia and Tristian, he could only explain what the cold spirit had said to him. Sperrit of cold, he said to them, it say to go, and be happy that he live. So he does this, Vrodo! He live still, and he is happy! |
"What are you talking about?"
"I'm talking about dying."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"It means lying in the ground with dirt on your face and holding your breath forever."
-Burt Reynolds, "The End" |
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Rogue Spirit
Posted: 20 Mar 2007 10:38 PM |
"It's on the move."
Aurora opens her eyes, her gaze locked on some distant point beyond the walls of the Ice Palace.
"Missstresss?" the ice mephit on standby swivels its head to face her.
"Summon the wyrmling from the western pass." Her voice is cold, flat and without emotion. "Tell it to search the Mineath Caverns - but do not interfere. It must report what it finds."
"Yesss, misstressss."
A flutter of wings, and the mephit is gone. |
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On the Fiirkrag
Posted: 24 May 2007 11:37 AM |
What had drawn them up the side of Fiirkrag, to scale its cliffs?
The Ice Troll came upon Amon and Vrodo as they met the first of the serpents that hunt from concealment amidst the rocks.
But the first signal had come earlier. A frost broke out covering Vrodo's body, just as it had occasionally and without lasting consequences over the months that had passed since he, Ophelia, and Tristian Vike had been captured trespassing in Coldheart Canyon.
Once at the Mirghul Rangers' lodge the frost spread onto the floor and lowered the temperature of the air to sub-freezing temperatures. Two rangers who labored confronted the orclun and drove him out of the lodge, and for a time Vrodo feared he would never be able to return.
What he never revealed except perhaps to one was the source of this cold suck, a delicate egg like a hen's egg except white and cold to the touch. When Helkris' minions thawed him out and turned him loose onto the Sea of Ice, he had been given this egg and told to guard it with his life. Vrodo carried it in a soft elk skin pouch that he wore under his tunic.
Now the Ice Troll came upon them and said that Vrodo was summoned.
The orclun ranger understood at once. "Where!" he shouted to this hated foe.
The Ice Troll gargled on the unfamiliar common tongue. "Templessss.... Nearsss the Fiirkrag Minessss..." It extended a clawed finger pointing down at Vrodo who sheltered against a rock. "Youssss... goesssss."
"The timesss..."
"...Hasss..."
"...Comesss."
"She... awaitssss," the thing gargled in conclusion.
Then the troll leapt monstrously and began to climb upwards along a route impossible for a climber without a troll's absurd reach and flexibility. Vrodo hated a troll more than anything, but when questioned by his companion he answered, "We follow this thing Amon."
"Tell you now," Vrodo said in his crisp dry baritone, "He has a cold sperrit in him."
"I take it we will have safe passage up the rest of the mountain," Amon said.
"Don't know," the ranger responded. "Just that he must go. We find a temple by the mines."
"I will escort you," Amon said. "Do you know where this temple lies?"
Vrodo shook his head. "We find it. Not at the top, know that."
"Very well."
They fought the serpents that hide amidst the rocks, and they fought the wyverns that sail lazily on their leathern wings. And when the had climbed above the snowline the sleet fell and paved a path for them leading around the mountainside to the south.
Amon and Vrodo rose up and walked above the drifts of snow on a crust of ice, which formed just ahead of them like a meandering road of frosted glass.
The ice road brought them to a columned temple where they were met by two elemental fiends of ice and a bloodless frozen woman who was never named.
"Sure he is wanting to see this Amon?" Vrodo asked as they arrived.
"I only wished to see you here safely," replied Amon. "I will wait outside, as you were the one summoned." The elven druid wrapped himself tightly with his cloak.
However the exchange took place before Amon's eyes. And, Vrodo learned without much concern, within others' hearing. "Vrodo Joud," the bloodless woman said staring straight ahead.
"She know who he is?" Vrodo replied.
"Step forth," said the woman. As he came before her she asked him, "You have the egg?"
Vrodo looked at her with a strange peaceful expression. He pulled the pouch from under his tunic and turned it inside out, peeling it away from the egg that it contained. "Has this, yus. It is quick. It moves."
"Then set it on the ground, for it is time for the birth."
Here came the thing that Vrodo had fostered. He rested the white egg in the snow at the woman's feet.
"Very good," she said. "Step back."
He did so, watching with a fierce interest.
The egg rolled from side to side and cracked open. "Rise!" the woman commanded, "Rise!"
The being was created by a union of what grew inside the egg with the ages-old ice of the Fiirkrag Mountains. It was a Walker Behind the Snows, which would grow to be as colossal, as strong and as powerful as a glacier, robing itself in a storm that would never settle. It would tear apart its enemies with numbing cold after driving them mad with its fury. Wherever it dwelled would be cast into deep winter.
The thing was an abomination of Helkris, the likes of which had taken the Fengduin Forest from Elbereth's children when they were a young people.
Vrodo did not recognize this, of course. He had great affection for the elves. Only a few warmlings could know of the monstrosity that robbed the elves of their first home and drove them to settle at Minyaren. Certainly two beings in Ferein would see this abomination for what it was: more than her champion, this was the engine of Helkris' territorial expansion.
"BEHOLD!" the bloodless woman cried, "A new child of the Frost Bitch has come!"
With a squeaking sound like ice cracking under pressure the thing opened its mouth and roared. A dry cold cleared the air around the temple.
The bloodless woman stepped towards Vrodo. "You have done as you have been told."
The orclun replied, "He has, Vrodo."
"The Ice Bitch is pleased."
"Fear the cold mother, this Vrodo."
"She has offered in her infinite love..." came the bloodless woman in response, "to make you one of her children. Will you accept her?"
She stared deep into the orclun.
His black brow creased momentarily before answering. "He has many mothers, this Vrodo."
The woman shook her head. "Should you accept her icy embrace... no others will stand before her."
Vrodo's black eyes struggled to comprehend this.
"She will be your guide. She will protect you. She will be your very being!!"
"You have proven your worth."
"The choice is yours."
"The warm woolly beasts..." he returned slowly and deliberately, "they will still know Vrodo?"
The woman nodded. "They shall. Your knowledge of the cold lands will become greater, as well your prowess. This is not without torment. There are those who will seek to end you. To stop our mother. We will defend you as you defend her!"
"He... knows this as the cold wind... and the drifts of snow... His people... their sperrits have stayed in the Sea of Ice. For this, he agrees. This will be his place."
A brief smile appeared on the face of the bloodless woman. "Then so be it."
"You are one with the Ice Bitch."
"You shall protect her name."
"You shall defend her lands."
The woman put her hand on Vrodo's cheek, clasping his unflinching face. There was a puff of frost on the wind that Amon could see with clarity, and when the woman withdrew her hand a matte black mark was left. It was skin deadened by frostbite. A permanent mark from her palm and fingers on the left side of his face. A crisp black mark on his sooty black skin.
"That is her kiss. It shall forever remain there. It shall let those know who you serve and who you protect."
The bloodless woman then handed Vrodo a curved knife wrapped in furs. "Aurora's Claw," she said. She also handed him a suit of armor bundled inside of itself. "Use these to help in your efforts. They shall serve you well."
Vrodo took hold of the knife and frost extended from the blade to cover his hand.
"Your new life begins this day," the bloodless woman said to him. "We shall be watching."
She bowed, and Vrodo nodded stoically in farewell.
"So be it." And with that the woman snapped her fingers and turned, climbing the steps and entering the columned temple with her company of elementals, the newly-born creature following in tow.
Amon removed his leaf-helm. The bearded elf looked at Vrodo, perhaps with disapproval.
Tristian Vike appeared from out of nowhere. There were other witnesses to this induction as well. Amon and Vrodo had told the elven woman Kalid where they were headed, and Kalid had brought Ophelia to the area of the temple.
"What is this place?" Tristian asked.
""This is a temple, Vike."
"Yes." Tristian grinned at Vrodo's response. "A temple of what?"
"Cold Mother," came the orclun. "His Mother." He drew a knife from its scabbard and let it fall into the snow, and replaced it with the weapon that had just been given to him. He had to peel his fingers free from it.
The five gathered and moved to a semi-subterranean cabin that was also just above the snow-line. After resting they climbed back down the Fiirkrag carrying the body of a man Amon had found wounded and freezing in the snow.
As they descended they found that snow had fallen on the lower reaches where the wyverns flew lazily and serpents hid among the rocks.
Had this cold visited the mountain to celebrate the birth of a new cold spirit? A great and mighty cold spirit?
Or, was this the beginning of something with consequences for the men who live on the Fiirkrag's flanks, and for the village of Buckshire below? |
"What are you talking about?"
"I'm talking about dying."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"It means lying in the ground with dirt on your face and holding your breath forever."
-Burt Reynolds, "The End" |
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