Frostbite Keep Seen

The group has passed around the guard post a while back. Tonight they are going to camp before arriving at Frostbite keep tomorrow. The group is a couple hours from their camp for the night. Alexis addresses the group.

“Before we go in, Red and myself will get the blessings of greater insights of the college of Raiden. This will boost the two of us for half the day. And to keep more in reserve, I figure we won’t pass tracelessly or detect who might be scrying on us.”

“I’ve been thinking about what we’re going to do in the keep. As the holder of the Tear, I’m going to be the target for cunning opponent. For this reason we should shift who gets more protection. My bare thoughts: Gus shields myself and Red. And I stand right next to Gus so I can heal him if he gets too low.”

“I’m a little torn about who gets your Bothers in Arms, Carm. But as the holder of the Tear, I think I should have this extra protection.”

“Gus, I might call on you for talking to any animals in the keep to get more information.”

“Red, you’ve been keeping a ether-form spell for yourself. You might need to make a quick getaway with as many Tears as you can carry.”

Alexis keeps discussing with the group about who they might find in the keep. The possibility of Sheyeeni, Thraan, or anyone else they’ve encountered along the way. Alexis reminds the group of the other tools they have, including Old Sava stones and Gustav’s arrow with the lightning bolt.

Alexis asks what else they might have missed in the conversation up to this point.

Always Watching Over

Gustav and Alexis have been standing outside Ca’armine’s working while Ca’armine cleanses the crystal ball. When the working shatters and the ball goes clean, a shudder runs through Alexis and his body slumps. Gustav turns to look at him. Alexis straightens slowly, and Gustav thinks he sees a shadow leaving Alexis’s eyes, but it’s dim out here and hard to be sure.

Alexis looks at Gustav and smiles.

“Utiog did not enjoy that. I felt it in the Tear.”

He picks up his hat, knocks the dust off it against his leg, and puts it back on.

“Thanks for standing out here with me, Gus. Watching my back when I didn’t ask you to.”

He tips his head toward Ca’armine, a signal that it’s time to go, and starts back toward the group.

Horns? Not Six Arms. 3 gems.

In camp, after the stone shepherd and the stone sheep, a natural snow storm brewing, Rask catches Alexis attention.

“That creature in the stone carvings back there, you talked about the gems it had seeming similar to ours. But it’s not Sagi? Not the six-armed creature right? But it had horns?”

“Gus felt like there was something special there too…”

Rask looks over at Gus.

“Horns, not antlers.. What do you think it was?” Rask asks Alexis

The Corruption Of Avv Through Utiog

North. It’s known the way one knows their own pulse, without being told and without being able to say how. How far? As far as the edge of the maps, where words stop and only vague pictures continue?

A hall of black stone, and the whole of it is a working. Rings cut into the floor, one inside the next, the runes in their grooves lit purple. The grooves are wet.

Along the walls, figures hang in iron, and the channels beneath them feed the rings. Demonic figures stand at the edges in the dark and chant.

At the centre Utiog kneels, and every line in that floor ends at her.

The silver circlet is still on her brow and the blue stone in it is still bright. The gown was white once. The irons fit her wrists exactly, and the blood grooves come to them. The stone under her knees is worn into two shallow hollows.

The thing bent over her stands twice the height of a man and has to fold itself to reach her. Six arms. The lower body coiling. An Abyssal Lord. The face too calm for her body.

The Abyssal Lord is not angry. The Abyssal Lord works Utiog the way a man works a hide: not in temper, not in haste, simply without stopping.

One of the arms comes down. Utiog does not brace. When the Abyssal Lord lifts her fist away Utiog’s head is sagging more and with more blood.

The chanting climbs until the words run together. Then all of it stops at once, and the silence is worse than the sound was.

Purple tendrils come up out of the grooves and climb the walls.

Two of the arms take Utiog’s shoulders. Two hold her hips. The last two set themselves against her ribcage and open her the way you open a shutter.

What comes out of her is light-blue light.

Utiog fights this. Her body suddenly full of a vigor for fighting, but she’s also too weak from all the torture.

The Abyssal Lord goes in headfirst, slowly. One arm follows. Then another. The coil of it narrows and narrows and feeds in behind the Abyssal Lord, and Utiog’s ribs stand open the whole while, and the blue thins.

And behind all of it, faint, the way a thing is seen through water: a far greater god, opening in the same way, taking the same purple, and not resisting at all.

The last of the coil goes in. Her ribs close.

The purple goes out of the walls, the grooves and the runes, all at once, inward.

Utiog lifts her head. The stone on her brow is now red.

The thing looking out Utiog’s eyes gazes, knowing she’s being watched. She smiles. “My servant is coming for you.”

Sharing a Safe Watch with Sally

Deep in the night, in the silver-horned-stag-camp. Everyone is asleep except Alexis, who has the watch. Gustav is rolled in his blanket with Sally perched near his bedroll. Spyglass is tucked against Ethelred, one eye half open toward the fire.

Alexis sits cross-legged on the cold ground with a strip of liver and his knife and cuts it into small pieces, loud enough that Sally can hear it.

“Sally, do you want some meat? Sorry, I don’t have eyeballs.”

Sally lifts her head. After a moment she hops off her perch and crosses the ground to him.

“Eyeballs!” She pecks the dirt twice.

Alexis shrugs. “No eyeballs. Do you want this meat?” He holds out a small piece.

She takes it from his fingers and swallows it. He holds out another, and it goes the same way.

“Try to catch this one.”

He tosses a piece in a low arc. It bounces off her head and lands in the dirt. She eats it off the ground like that was the plan.

“More?”

“More!”

“Catch. I’ll make it go higher so you have more time.”

He lofts the next piece. She snaps it out of the air and gulps it down. Alexis grins.

He sets three flat stones in a row between them and holds up the last piece of liver so she can see it.

He slides the liver under the middle stone and moves the stones around one another, slowly. Alexis narrates in a low voice while he moves the stones. Sally watches with one eye and then the other. When he stops, she hops to the middle stone and flips it with her beak. She takes the liver.

“Fine. Once more.” He cuts another piece, hides it, and shuffles faster this time. She goes straight to the right stone. He does it a third time, as fast as his novice hands can shuffle these rocks. She picks the right stone again and gives him a look, as if the game is beneath her.

“Fair enough. We’ll move onto something else for a little while.”

He leans back against his pack and pulls the silver coin from his pocket. He walks it across his knuckles. Sally hops closer and tilts her head.

“Perhaps some day I can teach you simple coin tricks.”

He walks it across again. When it reaches the edge of his hand, she darts in, snatches it, and hops out of reach with the coin in her beak.

“Mine,” she says around it.

Alexis laughs quietly. “That was mine. Make a deal?”

She holds it up and looks at him.

He holds out another small piece of liver in one hand and his other hand is is palm up empty. “Trade?”

She considers it for a long moment. Then she drops the coin into his palm and takes the liver.

“Good bargain.” He rolls the coin over his knuckles once and puts it away.

Sally hops onto the nearest stone and fluffs her feathers. Her next sound is only a croak, and the one after that is another. Alexis looks at her for a moment.

“Perhaps we’ll get more time to talk some other night.” Alexis shrugs.

He picks up the stones. A piece of liver goes under the left one, and he shuffles. Sally goes to it without hesitating.

For the rest of his watch the two of them sit in the firelight, the stones sliding across the dirt and the crow flipping them over.

Planning in the Mountains: 200 Miles to Go

The group settles down to camp in the rib cage of the giant, Alexis looks at Gustav. He adjusts the whip at his hip.

“Gus. I want twenty arrows on you before we go into the pass. And we still need to refill myself and Rask who’ve donated you arrows.”

He shrugs slightly. “Shafts and fletching we can make anywhere. Good heads we can’t. Stone won’t punch through armor. Red and I talked about shaving down coins for arrowheads. Not ideal, but better than stone against chainmail.”

He looks north, then back at the group.

“Sixty-five miles behind us. Call it a hundred and eighty-five ahead, fifteen days if the weather lets us, and it won’t. We lost a day to one storm and there’ll be more.”

He looks at Gustav, then at Ca’armine.

“The two of you made us a powerful grove of Raiden outside Nodden-Torr. I’d like that again coming up. Twice if we can manage it. Food is already scarce and it’s only going to get worse up here. The extra time buys us arrows, keeps us safe from the storms, Red might get his shield finished, we make progress on cleaning the Tear and the crystal ball, and we learn a little more about what’s ahead before we walk into it.”

He looks expectantly between the two of them.

The Cracking of the Altar; It Was Noticed

The group stands in front of the, now cracked, altar of Razar. Ca’armine has just finished unleashing the power of Raiden at the undead and at the altar.

“Did you feel that? There was a moment where it pushed back.” He nods slowly. “And then you overpowered it; brought Raiden against it.” He looks at Ca’armine, smiles, and clasps him on the shoulder. “That’s what a champion of Raiden looks like, Carm.”

He turns to the cracked altar and tilts his head slightly.

“Although it would have been easier to study intact.” A small shrug. “Or carry back as treasure on our way back.” He chuckles.

He heads back toward camp with the group.

The Black Iron Crown That Binds

As the group is leaving the mountain lion cave they shared with Sava Alexis is thinking out loud.

“I’ve been thinking more about ‘the crown that binds'”.

“Given what you’ve said about your past, Carm, it seemed reasonable that it could have been Ædelfred’s. But there are a few other crowns at play.”

“Tarkus Vell took his orders from a shadow with a broken crown sitting over its head. I’d still wager that was Bandesingh. And the bronze standard of those ice soldiers: the eye with eight points rising out of it. It reminded us of a crown, and it was carried by the orcs at Nodden-Torr.”

“But then there’s the third image. The image of a crown. A crown of black iron, hanging above an empty skull. And the skull is somewhere in this world. But there is a half formed thing standing in the void watching the crown and the ritual around it.”

“As a little aside, if Shasharak has a skull in this world, could it be something like Zrithrak’s skull or the skulls in the Drayek crypt? Is this a connection?” Alexis moves back to his talk of crowns.

“The three ‘crowns’ are not worn. Two of them hang in the air. The third rises out of an eye.”

“And then there’s the iron connection. The red iron shipments from Tarkus Vell, presumably north to Frostbite Pass. The black iron for the crown over the skull. The iron crown worn by Utiog. And then there’s the verse” he closes his eyes to recall it “Eager are princes who feed him with ore, Edged in red iron and promise of war.” Keeping his eyes closed he continues “and there’s the directive to Find the one who feeds him iron and blood.”

He opens his eyes and adjusts his hat.

“Is red iron just iron that’s been fed blood?”

Alexis shrugs and keeps moving with the group.

Portrait Gallery

The group is huddled in a mountain lion cave while the unnatural storm bears down on them from the north. Alexis has just finished scrying on Mavon, and is worried about his friend.

While sitting in the protection of Raiden Alexis sits cross-legged with his book of notes in this lap. He looks over at Sally and Gustav, and waves a piece of dried meat for Sally to join him briefly.

After feeding Sally, Alexis starts a page of portraits. When he started with Gustav and Ethelred into Pulathi, he had never really tried to draw much. But as Alexis has encountered the weird and the unusual he has worked on his drawing. Nobody would say is portraits are good now, but he can consistently draw so someone knows the likeness.

He keeps the pictures small so he can squeeze a lot of them on this page. Mavon is already on the page. He starts with the Spider of the Dark Hand next. He has a list in his mind; Ezrin, Varisimus, Ethelred, Alekeemo, Cheyeenee, Earyka, Leer, Yeegoth the Mighty, Tarkus Vell, Squire Perez, Ardor Skull-eyes … and the list goes on.

As he keeps drawing he narrates to Sally about the person behind each portrait, feeding her a little bit as he goes. “… Domdir who we found in the sewers of Sutheron, possibly from Mount Sutheron. Another mystery, really. And his companion Draego… “

The storm rages on, Alexis sits in the circle periodically feeding Sally, drawing in his book, and quietly narrating to Sally as he draws.