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| − | [ST] On the Tomb's ground floor, near the rear of the monolithic, dull building, is a broad hall. It typically goes unused except in cases of great revelry - as the victory after the Calibration battles - or great trouble - as, well, now.
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| − | [ST] Everyone in Fourth Scale who remains in combat ready condition stands in ranks in the hall now, shuffling uneasily. The last few rows, missing those soldiers killed or wounded since last muster, look particularly ragged. Soft whispers run through the ranks, but still as a pair of figures walk to the head of the hall.
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| − | [ST] Athela Ironheart is straight backed, almost ridiculously formal, her face drawn in her typical look of mild disapproval. At her side, Scalelord Soldas seems even more unsure and wavering than ever. Dark, bruise-colored circles nestle under his eyes.
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| − | [ST] "Attention," Ironheart says. "The briefing to follow concerns everyone in the Fourth Scale."
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| − | [ST] "As if that isn't obvious," Laughing Jek whispers to Pixie, who stands beside him. She bites her lip to repress a foolish giggle, then stops as Aron, standing on her other side, glares her to silence.
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| − | [ST] A few rows ahead, Vulgar Oda belches softly. Snow Peacock makes a muted sound of disgust.
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| − | [ST] "W-we are being mobilized," Soldas begins, taking a step forward. "To investigate the disappearance of the Third Scale, which has not returned from its deployment in the field."
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| − | [Iscal] Iscal licks his lips and attempts to straightens from a mild slouch. His clothing is disheveled and sloppy as always; were he another man, one would suspect he hadn't fully recovered from a night of carousing. He runs his fingers through his messy hair.
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| − | [ST] "Two weeks ago, Third Scale was deployed to investigate the disappearance of a group of workers on an Iceholt Barge," Athela resumes. Soldas almost slumps with relief, then catches himself. "The Gullwing Trading Company failed to report for their annual rendezvous in Diamond Hearth. After they were over a month late, a flyover airboat spotted their barge on the Great Ice. Sun signals and
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| − | [ST] warning fires were dropped, but the vessel did not respond. Third Scale was sent to investigate."
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| − | [ST] "They have not returned."
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| − | [Iscal] "None of them?" he says softly. He flinches when Athela looks at him. Yes, none of them, that's what she said, fool.
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| − | [ST] "None of them. They were to send up a signal that could be spotted by passing airboats when they were finished, or in case of distress. There has been no sign of either. Neither the barge nor the iceship that delivered them, the Razor, had moved. The airboat declined to investigate."
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| − | [Summer] Summer Sky stands near the end of the line, standing proud despite being discheveled by a long night of drinking and merriment. He was new to the scale, and was glad of the coming chance to prove himself.
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| − | [ST] "We will head north aboard the iceship 'Stalwart'," Soldas says, sounding as if he is writing his own epitaph. "We will investigate the disappearance of both the Gullwings and the Third Scale. We will return victorious!"
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| − | [ST] The watching scale remains silent. Softhands blinks slowly and deliberately.
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| − | [ST] "Any further questions?" Athela asks. Most military formations wouldn't ask. Most don't depend on a horde of thrown together riff-raff to get the job done.
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| − | [Summer] He starts to bring a fist up, to join in the scale's cheer for this victory, but hesitates as no one else moves. He scowls in embarassment and annoyance. No spirit in this company.
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| − | [Iscal] "Why was the entire Third Scale there doing investigation?" Iscal asks hesitantly, since no one else did.
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| − | [Iscal] Oh well. They all thought him a coward anyway.
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| − | [ST] "The Gullwings number over a hundred people, men, women, and children. Their barge is a serious part of the Haslanti Economy. They are important."
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| − | [Iscal] "If the Thirds Scale couldn't handle it, how do you suppose we can?"
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| − | [ST] "If not you, who else?"
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| − | [Iscal] Iscal's shoulders slump. "First Scale," he mutters, mostly to himself.
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| − | [ST] Neither Ironheart nor Soldas responds to the latest remark. "Any further questions?" Soldas asks, voice full of false bravado.
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| − | [ST] "Can we get paid extra for this?" Jek asks. No one laughs.
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| − | ------
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| − | [ST] Three days later finds the sun bright on the Great Ice, and the iceship Stalwart racing along with the wind in her sails. If not for the brisk wind, standing on the deck of the great cruiser would be a pleasant experience - certainly, the ride is much smoother than riding the tumultuous waves.
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| − | [ST] Those among the Once Dead who feel like braving the cold have mustered on deck. Around them, skilled hands bustle at the shouts of captain Farnese, their bodies tightly bundled, their eyes covered by dark goggles to prevent ice blindness. They scale the rigging with remarkable skill in their heavy clothing.
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| − | [ST] "Should be there soon," Laughing Jek remarks. He leans with his back to the ship's railing, ignoring the plume of ice the ship's blades kick up behind him.
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| − | [Iscal] "Wonderful," Iscal says mordantly, staring at the ice. "Maybe we should jump off, freeze to death quickly."
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| − | [ST] "Shouldn't joke about that, boy," Aron says. The old man, less flatteringly referred to among the scale as Relic, coughs, and spits a wad of phlegm over the railing. Whipchord thin, his bald head tightly covered by a hood, and even his gray beard growing thin, he looks more like a grandfather that should be sitting at a fire than a member of the Once Dead. Why, he must be nearly sixty.
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| − | [ST] "Been around as long as me, you'll understand omens are important." To one side of him, Jek holds up his hand and mimes speaking with it.
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| − | [ST] "I see that too, you son of a bitch," Relic finishes.
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| − | [Iscal] "Who said I was joking?"
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| − | [Summer] Summer tightens one of the bright scarves tied around his wrists, to keep the sleeves of his overcoat closed. "It is not so cold, especially when we are down on the ice and not in this wind. A proper Haslanti will be warm enough."
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| − | [Iscal] Iscal snorts. His messy brown hair is bare to the wind, but otherwise he is layered is ragged leather . "That's because you brutes have seals for mothers. Those of us from civilized places feel the chill a bit more."
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| − | [Summer] He laughs. "My mother was a great hunter of seals, and it is true that I was suckled on seal meat. But you have obviously had enough woman-luck to know the difference between our good women and seals, southerner."
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| − | [ST] "Oh, stow it, you two," Pixie says. She can't even be twenty years old, and her cherubic face makes her look much younger. "You're spoiling this. I've never seen the Great Ice before." She leans over the rail to watch the dark rocks move by. Relic looks like he'd like to slap the grin off her face.
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| − | [Summer] He stands taller than most of those around him, with a wide smale and bright eyes to match his name. He is bundled tightly, but random braids of his streaked blonde hair peek out around his face from under his close knit cap and hood.
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| − | [Summer] Young and eager.
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| − | [Iscal] Iscal's eyes narrow, searching Summer's face for any hint of mockery. When the Once Dead had roused him with the points of their spears, he'd been curled at the end of Ragged Red's bed like a dog. He relaxes slightly. Only a young fool, then. "Never mind, lad," he says mildly. "You'll see soon enough."
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| − | [ST] "Something's not right about this. This boat shouldn't be here." Relic grumbles further, pulling his hood a little closer. Across the deck, Vulgar Oda tries to engage Snow Peacock in conversation, but she rebuffs him quite visibly. He shrugs and begins to pick his nose.
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| − | [Iscal] "Nothing's ever where it should be. What's different about this?"
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| − | [ST] "If it's an ice fishing ship, it should be further north. The fish haven't migrated south, and won't for another month. Why would it stop here? I've met a lot of idiots, but you don't command a barge if you're an idiot."
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| − | [ST] "You can command a scale, though," Jek points out, nodding his head in Soldas's direction. The nervous man stands up in the captain's nest, gripping the rail tightly, his face looking harried.
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| − | [ST] The noise Relic makes in response might be a laugh, might be a cough.
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| − | [Summer] He shrugs "We will see when we get there. If no one responded, they are probably all dead, reason enough for it to be stopped."
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| − | [Iscal] "Leave off Soldas, he's well enough," Iscal mutters, staring out across the ice. Relic had a point. "So what do you think is going on?"
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| − | [Summer] Jek was right of course. It was a poor leader whose warriors respected him so little, and it was a poor leader who led them on a mission such as this, with nothing to be gained in honor or treasure. He rather hoped that they had come to some violent trouble, rather than just mechanics, so that the scale would have something to do.
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| − | [ST] "I guess the boy's right," Relic says. "Might be they found something. Might be they up and died of strangle fever and drifted to a stop. We'll see."
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| − | [ST] "The ship!" The lookout shouts suddenly from his position at the crow's nest. "The ship!"
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| − | [Iscal] Iscal's head whips around. His eyes drift anxiously to Soldas.
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| − | [ST] Soldas visibly jerks as he legs go of the rail. Perhaps Iscal is the only one watching him as he takes a deep breath and visibly gathers himself before shouting. "Scale, form up to the starboard side, ranks of five! We'll sweep around once to survey the site."
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| − | [ST] Captain Farnese repeats the order, and the ship trims its sails, sweeping out in a wide arc to circle the ship as the Once Dead get into position.
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| − | [Summer] Summer grins, and rushes to take his position, retrieving his buckelr from its hook at his hip and tying it to his arm. He could hope.
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| − | [Iscal] Iscal moves more slowly with the others, gripping his cudgel with a sweaty palm.
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| − | [ST] The Iceholt barge comes into sight almost immediately, a huge structure over a hundred feet tall from base to top, square and oblong and clumsy - something built not for speed, but for as much comfort as can be found on the Great Ice. The smaller iceship cruiser Razor rests in its lee, sails taken in, seemingly abandoned. Beyond the pair of ships can be spotted a pair of huge wooden
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| − | [ST] structures something like catapaults, sitting silent and untended.
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| − | [ST] "Ice crackers," Relic says softly from behind Iscal and Summer Sky.
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| − | [Iscal] "I'll lay odds 'twas something beneath the ice that got them. A massive ice serpent, perhaps."
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| − | [Iscal] His eyes narrow at the glint of gold beneath the ice. Something huge... A tomb?
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| − | [Iscal] "Fuck," he says softly. "We're going to go beneath the ice. And be eaten."
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| − | [Summer] He grins. "Theres blood frozed to the side of that ship. There may be something for us here yet."
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| − | [Iscal] Iscal glances at him and shakes his head. "No cause for celebration," he says softly, and grips the railing to stop his hands trembling.
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| − | [Summer] There was hole near the bottom of the barge as well, and more blood on the ice, hidden by the sun from those who did not have Snowshine's blessing.
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| − | [Iscal] "When you've seen enough men with their entrails wrapped 'round them like a belt, you'll know that."
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| − | [ST] Avir shuffles uneasily behind Iscal at his words, gazing down at the ice, remembering the words the demon spoke in the cellar.
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| − | [ST] "And I thought Miruna was depressing," Jek says softly.
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| − | [ST] "Stow the chatter!" Soldas says, as the ship completes its swing around the site. A huge hole has been smashed in the ice near the crackers, and rungs have been cut into its side.
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| − | [Summer] Snowshine whispers into his ear: "You are a great man, and must tell them so." He glares at Iscal, "Let it not be said that this would be my first battle, nor this my first posting as a warrior."
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| − | [Summer] He points to the ice, tracing the outline he saw. "Look, there is something to what you say - that golden color is not the ice, something large is down there!" He is getting excited.
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| − | [Iscal] Iscal shrinks away. "Didn't mean anything by it," he mutters. He thinks, fool. He supposed he should be grateful for the boy's distraction.
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| − | [ST] "Stow the-" Soldas begins again, but the murmuring of the troops increases as they spot what lies beneath the ice as well.
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| − | [ST] "A tomb! An anathema tomb!" Pixie shouts.
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| − | [ST] "A faerie nest!"
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| − | [ST] "A lost city!"
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| − | [ST] Soldas leans over to whisper something in Captain Farnese's ear, and she shouts the order. The ship's sails are pulled in, and it begins to coast to a stop.
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| − | [ST] "This is trouble," Relic says in warning. "The blood. The silence. Something bad has happened here. Best to just sail away and leave this damn place be. You don't get as old as me by being a fool."
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| − | [Iscal] Iscal nods in full agreement. He attempts to square his shoulders. "Least there aren't any bandits," he sighs.
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| − | [ST] The ship stops at last, and Soldas moves around deck belting out orders as ramps are lowered. "Miruna! Take five with you and check out the Razor. Jek! Take two fangs, give the barge a once over." His eyes travel the crowd. "Iscal! You. Relic. Softhands. Oda. Pixie. And... and..." he points at Summer Sky for a moment, making a dismissive gesture. "You. Come with me."
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| − | [Iscal] Iscal straightens. In some dismal little corner of his soul, he is proud to have been chosen first to accompany Soldas. He was not universally despised, at least.
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| − | [ST] As the rest of the Once Dead fan out, and the remainders form a perimeter with Farnese's men, Soldas pulls his fur-lined jacket tighter around him and marches down one of the ramps, making his way towards the ice crackers.
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| − | [Iscal] "Sir," he says he falls behind him.
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| − | [Summer] Summer rushes in behind, glad to have been chosen for the most interesting duty, if a bit annoyed that his commander could not even remember his name. Still, he would prove himself soon enough, as soon as he was given a chance.
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| − | [ST] As the group behind Soldas follows him, the shape below the ice becomes more clear. It's some sort of craft, absolutely massive in size, stretching into the distance and away under the cloudy ice. As Soldas sets a brisk pace towards the ice crackers, Miruna's party swings up onto the deck of the Razor and Jek's men begin scaling the side of the barge.
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| − | [ST] Softhands mutters quietly to himself, looking down at the massive shape. "A traveling manse? Could be, could be. A war leviathan? The savants have written of it..."
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| − | [ST] "This explains why they wouldn't tell us what this was until we left Icehome," Relic says. "Better for us to die with this secret than spread it first."
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| − | [Iscal] Iscal grunts. "I hope it's traps down there, not creatures. I don't know if I could take being chased. Traps could be instantly fatal."
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| − | [ST] The hole in the ice is ragged at its top, as one would expect from the rough work of the ice crackers, less a neat hole than a ragged fissure. At its closer end, ice axes have made a smoother job, and a round shaft descents some ways into the ice, its side dotted with steel rungs.
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| − | [ST] Soldas stops at the edge of the hole, staring down into darkness. The hesitation on his face could hardly be more clearly written.
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| − | [Iscal] "I'll go first," Iscal says, after staring unhappily at the hole. Better him than Soldas, and Soldas might feel obligated, as the leader. Ragged Red had never felt obligated to go first into danger, but then she was a different kind of leader.
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| − | [Iscal] "If I start screaming, do me the kindness of sticking an arrow in me."
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| − | [Iscal] Not, he realized as he put his feet on the first run, that any of them were archers.
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| − | [Summer] He steps to the edge of the ice rift. "I shall go second." He had made a habit of running at the front of the pack all his life, and it had stood him well enough.
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| − | [ST] Iscal leads the way into the darkness, picking his way downward carefully - the iced over rungs are treacherous and slippery. As he descends, the light above diminishes. He can hear the heavy footfalls of the others above him. Summer Sky follows shortly after, eager, and above him Pixie, Oda, and Soldas. Pixie complains the whole way down.
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| − | [ST] "If you fart, Oda, I swear..."
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| − | [ST] Relic waits above, to guard the exit and spare his joints.
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| − | [Iscal] Smart man.
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| − | [ST] At last, Iscal's feet hit ice instead of air, and he turns to find himself in a narrow, icy cave, raggedly hacked away with the clumsy ice axes ice fishermen swear by. At the far end of it, space has been cleared around a massive doorway, almost twice as tall as a man. It is made of some kind of shiny metal, and the bit of exposed wall it is set in is a glimmering gold.
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| − | [ST] Lights flash in intricate patterns across the surface, filling the cavern with strange illumination.
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| − | [Iscal] "There's a door!" he calls up to the others, moving so he wouldn't be in their way.
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| − | [ST] A panel is set in the wall beside the door, covered with a glimmering silver plate. A red light flashes there.
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| − | [Summer] Summer reaches the bottom right after him, and clears the way for those behind, moving into the passage. "This is a rich door. If the entire craft is like this, we shall all be rich men."
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| − | [ST] Writing in strange characters like nothing Summer has seen before covers the surface of the door. Pixie gives a whistle of approval as she, Oda, Softhands, and Soldas file in behind them.
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| − | [Iscal] "Doesn't belong to us," Iscal notes. He doesn't move closer to the passage himself, only furrowing his brow at the door.
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| − | [Iscal] He had been considered an educated man before, in his first life.. "It's called Sunlight. Orichalcum. Opened by that plate, maybe."
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| − | [Summer] He wlaks up to the door, and not expecting much puts his hand to it, pushing. "How do we open it?" Someone must have known, since clearly the men of the ships had been inside.
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| − | [Iscal] "Trying pressing that. Maybe better if you don't, though." Iscal glances at Soldas.
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| − | [ST] Soldas has been chewing on his lip. Distractedly, he looks up. "Ah. Oh. Ah. Yes. Best open it. They must have gone inside."
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| − | [ST] Softhands looks over Summer's shoulder at the door, even as its frost-rimed surface fails to respond to his pressing. "It's sealed. Quite tightly, by the look of it."
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| − | [ST] "The panel might open it, or it might be a trap..."
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| − | [ST] "What...what is this thing?" Pixie asks. "Where did it come from?"
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| − | [Summer] "I will push the plate. A man who fears consequence, he should stand back." With slight theatrics, he puts his hand near the plate,a nd waits for their eyes to be on him.
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| − | [ST] Soldas does not speak up to stop him. Softhands opens his mouth to protest, then closes it, then opens it again.
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| − | [ST] "Well, I suppose someone must."
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| − | [Summer] He presses the plate, making sure to push it firmly in.
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| − | [Iscal] Iscal watches with mild interest.
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| − | [ST] As Summer presses the plate, a loud, blaring siren comes from somewhere inside the door. There's a brief flash, and red symbols form in the air before the door, shifting rapidly before derezzing into nothingness.
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| − | [ST] The door does not open.
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| − | [Summer] He steps back startled, then forward again, unwilling to give ground. He tries again, wondering if it would produce the same result.
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| − | [Iscal] "Danger. Breach. Sealed. Danger," Iscal reads from the door in a monotone.
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| − | [Iscal] He glances at Soldas. "Maybe they cut another tunnel through the ice?"
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| − | [ST] The siren bleats again. The message repeats. The door does not open.
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| − | [ST] "Maybe," Soldas begins. He wrings his hands nervously. "Maybe they forced this open somehow."
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| − | [ST] "I didn't see another tunnel," Pixie adds in an uncertain voice. "But I wasn't looking."
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| − | [Iscal] "Maybe they got inside, let something dangerous loose. And now the ship door won't open because it doesn't want to unleash an abomination on the world."
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| − | [ST] "Cheery, aren't you?" Oda says with a grunt. "No wonder they-" And he stops, remembering the rumors he's heard.
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| − | [Iscal] Iscal frowns at the door. "We don't have the tools to force it open, unless we've got an anathema hidden up our rear."
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| − | [Summer] He grunts, frustrated. "You can read this, Iscal? Then maybe you should take a closer look at the mechanism."
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| − | [Iscal] He turns the mild frown on Oda. "Now wonder they-?"
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| − | [ST] "Nothing." Oda belches softly.
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| − | [Iscal] His gaze is steady. Unnervingly so, for someone called the Coward.
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| − | [ST] "Enough," Soldas says. "Iscal, take a look at the mechanism."
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| − | [Iscal] "Nothing," he agrees. "Right." He swithces his gaze to Soldas, bows slightly. "Yes sir."
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| − | [Iscal] He takes a closer look at the mechanism, peering at the trips in the plate and brushing his hand suicidally against the door.
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| − | [ST] Soldas seems to straighten slightly at being called sir, as if it reminds him
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| − | [Iscal] "We're not getting inside this way," Iscal declares after a few moments. "I've heard about these things. We could bang on it for a decade and not get any further with it. If they came this way, it was before it was sealed. The mechanism's frozen by some kind of force."
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| − | [Iscal] "Maybe the others were eaten by serpents under the ice," he mutters, stepping away.
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| − | [ST] "Shall we return to the surface, then?" Soldas asked.
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| − | [ST] Vulgar Oda opens his mouth, but what bit of wisdom he meant to impart will never be known, for it is interrupted by a sudden scream from above.
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| − | [ST] A moment later, several more shouts follow, along with a warbling howl.
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| − | [Iscal] "Maybe not yet," Iscal says, looking up.
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| − | [Summer] Summer pushes past him, running to the ladder.
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| − | [ST] "We've got trouble up here!" Relic shouts down.
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| − | [Summer] "Thats an Ice Hag, to arms!"
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| − | [Summer] He climbs the ladder at as close to a dead run as can be managed vertically, skipping some rungs by momentum, helped by his long arms.
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| − | [Iscal] "What's an Ice Hag?" Iscal wonders out loud. He sighs when no one else immediately moves, and follows the boy up, albeit at a more leisurely pace.
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| − | [Iscal] Whatever it was, it would probably kill them quickly.
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| − | [ST] As the others scramble for the ladder, Soldas waiting for last, Summer begins to climb at an amazing rate, flying up the rungs at a reckless pace. As he climbs, the screaming continues, along with more howls. Cursing and the clash of weapons can be heard as Summer's head bursts into the sunlight. For a moment, everything is piercingly bright, and then he sees all too much.
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| − | [ST] Shouts sound from above, where Jek and his troops are apparently doing battle with some of the Hags. Others, boiling out of the hole in the ship, race across the ice to spring on isolated groups of defenders. As Summer clambers out of the hole, helped by Relic, he sees the Hags clearly for the first time.
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| − | | |
| − | [ST] They are tall, semi-furry creatures, their limbs long and spindly. They have the faces of wizened old hags - beady black eyes, long noses, pointed ears, a circular fanged mouth like a lamprey's. Prominent, swaying breasts dangle foully down their skinny chests, and a spotted ruff of oily fur runs down their spines. They cackle and howl.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [ST] From his position, Summer can see a good half dozen of them, running amongst the forces, howling atop the iceholt barge.As he watches, one pops up from the deck of the Razor, startling Miruna and his troops.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [Iscal] Iscal arrives not too long after, fingers smarting from the cold. "Fuck," he says. He takes the cudgel from his belt.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [Summer] He grabs Spring, his axe, from its sheath on his back and makes ready for the coming tide of enemy. "I shall only take two, for I would not deny any man his share," He declares loudly.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [ST] The others haul themselves into the freezing air and the screams and the brightness. Oda swears loudly and vocally, smothering Iscal's own curse. Pixie has to turn to help Soldas up. Iscal notices the man's hand shaking terribly as he draws his very fine blade.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [Iscal] "Take four. You can have mine," Iscal offers.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [ST] "Stand... Stand fast!" Soldas says. "Let them come to us!" He looks as if he wants to crawl back into the hole and die.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [Iscal] Iscal plants his feet and waits for them, putting himself between Soldas and the hags.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [ST] "Look at them move... they run on four legs, but walk on two," Softhands says, detached. Pixie shoots him a puzzled glance.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [ST] Two of the Ice Hags peel themselves away from the crowd, slavering, racing towards the troop near the massive ice crackers. Their foul mouths open and close, purple tonges flicking over their faces. One of them has a slightly yellowish tinge to its fur. The other moves with a slight limp, its left leg twisted horribly. It is still very fast.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [ST] The smaller one leaps into the air, limbs hooking savagely as it descends upon Vulgar Oda.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [ST] The big man scrambles out of the way, screaming a stomach churning curse at the thing even as the other springs suddenly at Softhands.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [ST] The thaumaturge gasps, staggering back. An arc of his blood sprays across the ice, steaming, and the Hag cackles.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [Summer] Summer dashes to the larger of the Hags, the one with Softhands' blood on its claws, charging into it with hsi left shoulder and then chopping at its closest knee with his axe.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [Summer] It bites deep, almost buckling the leg of the beast, and his yell of triumph rings discordantly with the Hag's shriek of pain.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [ST] With a loud shout, Pixie and Oda leap to either side of the smaller creature, lashing out at it with their blades. It retreats under the onslaught, but its armored, leathery hide turns their blades, causing it to suffer only cosmetic damage. Softhands turns, blood dripping from the wound on his side, to slash at the Hag that wounded him, opening a small bleeding nick on its knobby shoulder.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [ST] "Not like that, pup," Relic says, coughing. He steps inside the Hag's clumsy swipe, driving his blade directly into its gnashing mouth. His sword explodes out of the back of its head and he steps back, letting it fall dead to the ground. "Like THAT."
| |
| − | | |
| − | [Iscal] Juding that Soldas was in no immediate danger, Iscal runs at the smaller beast, his heavy spiked club whirling once, twice at the creature's head. His eyes are wild.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [Iscal] The wooden spikes sink into the Ice Hag's head with meaty thunks. Its eyes cross as Iscal staggers it, but it shakes off the blows, tongue slavering and tasting the air. The fur on its head is a red, soupy mess.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [ST] Soldas's mouth is open. He breathes quickly and sharply as he sees the thing stagger towards him. He can do this. He can do this. He's the leader. He can do this. He opens his mouth to cry out, but only a strangled gasp emerges. Nevertheless, he steps forward, weapon sweeping back for a moment before thrusting forward at the creature's heart.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [ST] But the creature is too fast - it slithers back, taking only a shallow wound to its belly. Bright blood slides down its midsection, over its sexless hips. It gives a wheezing cry. Half of its brains are running down its face.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [ST] Perhaps it is this that confuses the creature. Perhaps all Ice Hags are as mad and destructive as the tales. In any case, smelling blood not its own, it springs for Softhands, clawed hands tearing at his face.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [ST] Softhands' small spectacles, perched incongrously on his giant smith's face, shatter and go flying end over end. He suffers only a deep cut across the bridge of his nose.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [Summer] THis was good, for in attacking Softhands, the creature came closer to him. He stepped to it, cutting sharply at it with his axe, then reversing it to sweep at the back of the things knees, hoping that its obscured vision might make it defenseless to this.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [Summer] His downward strike cuts a diagonal line down its chest, wounding it fiercely, but the followup is what dooms the Hag, lopping off one leg at the knee, and then digging deep into the thigh of the next as it continues through. The one leg fell completely away, tiwtching feebly, and the other was left hanging by little, so that later he woudl claim to have hewn both completely, with some honesty.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [ST] "That's all of 'em here," Relic says, heaving a sigh, looking about the battlefield. Blood smokes at the tip of his blade.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [Iscal] "Bide a moment, Softhands," Iscal grunts, setting down his truncheon. He draws some silk thread from his pouch and threads a needle.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [Iscal] He had some wound-staunching bandages, specially treated, but he wasn't inclined to waste them on a light wound.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [Summer] "There are more all over the field, we should rush to the aid of the others." Summer is looking towards the other battles over the ice, but is not such a foola s to rush off by himself.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [ST] Atop the barge, a desperate battle is being waged. Jek and his troops have retreated to a doorway, struggling against the Hags there. Miruna's troop is similarly engaged onboard the Razor. As Summer watches, the man thrusts the head of one of the creatures through the spokes of the captain's wheel and spins it, breaking its neck. Scattered knots of men and hags fight here and there.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [ST] Softhands sucks in a breath, pulling aside his tattered, blood-soaked clothing to reveal the wound on his side.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [Iscal] He shoves the man down, hands him his glasses, and goes to work on the wound. He works quickly- Summer was right, there were other battles- and with a certain indifference to the man's pain.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [Iscal] A minute or so later, he breaks the thread with his hands. There is an even line of stitches. "All done." He turns to Soldas. "Orders, sir?"
| |
| − | | |
| − | [ST] Soldas stands, staring across the battlefield in mute horror. Following the line of his gaze, Iscal sees a Hag tear the head off of one of Farnese's sailors, gnawing at the stump.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [Iscal] He glances around idly, wondering whether it would be better to die atop the barge or the Razor. "Sir?" Iscal says patiently.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [Iscal] "Well, that's some saved thread right there," he notes as the head bounces wetly across the deck and rolls overboard.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [ST] Soldas says nothing. There is the loud sound of a ship cutting ice, and the Stalwart races by, sailors on her deck hurling javelins at the hags. Suddenly, one of the creatures, easily half as tall again as the others, swings up onto the ship, descending upon Farnese. Her back turned, the captain doesn't hear until it's too late, until the creature has parted her head from her body in one
| |
| − | | |
| − | [ST] quick swipe.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [ST] Another smashes the upper half of the steersman into red jelly. He falls, crashing into the wheel, which lists to one side and sends the ship veering off... towards the Razor.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [ST] The men fighting on the deck of the smaller ship look up in time to see the other ship bearing down upon them, but not in time to escape it. There is a thunderous crash, the sound of snapping timber and bones, frenzied screams. The large hag springs away from the destruction, landing on the ice, smeared with the blood and gore of those it has killed. Horizontally slitted yellow eyes like a
| |
| − | | |
| − | [ST] goat's narrow, focusing on Soldas and his group.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [Iscal] "Sir?" Damn it. He supposed everyone froze some time. He nudges Soldas gently to the side.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [ST] "Gods," Soldas says softly. "They're dying. They're all dying. They're- they're- k-k-kill that thing!"
| |
| − | | |
| − | [Iscal] "Right." He glances at the others. "Summer, you go first."
| |
| − | | |
| − | [Iscal] He picks up his truncheon again.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [Summer] The sight sobered even him, and he stepped grimly to the fore as the Mother Hag swept at them.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [ST] The soldiers of the Once Dead throw themselves at the Mother Hag, slashing wildly. Pixie's vicious cut to its head is batted away by an effortless swipe of its arm. Oda and Softhands, attacking together, are forced to give ground as the massive creature swipes yellowed claws at them, forcing them back. Relic ducks under the creature's strike, slams his sword into its side... and loses his
| |
| − | | |
| − | [ST] grip, his blade tumbling away over the ice.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [Summer] This thing was tough, far tougher than the Hags they had felled before. He reaches out his shieldhand to steady Oda as he stumbles back from it, and yells to the others "surround it properly, tear at it together like wolves, and it shall die." He gestures with his axe to the toehrs, trying to indicate to them how one should attack each side so as to occupy each of its arms.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [Summer] He was young, and new to them, but he had fought in battles before, and this was no different from the ice bear hunts he had undertaken with the youths of his tribe when they were together becoming warriors of the tribe. No different except for the roaring abomination before them.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [Iscal] Iscal takes his meaning well enough. He waits as the others arrange themselves around the creature, muscles tense as he waited for the signal. Even if he were dislinclined to listen to a halfing boy- and he wasn't- he wasn't suicidal enough to step within reach of that thing's arms until it was distracted by others.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [Iscal] There's an annoying tap, tap, tap as the blood of the smaller hag drips from the truncheon.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [ST] Soldas stares at the thing, hulking, slavering. As the Mother Hag staggers forward, it urinates, marking the ground behind it. Something about this is too much. Soldas's hand trembles, and he raises his sword before him, but does nothing else.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [ST] The large creature gazes down at the tiny things that circle it, its beady eyes flashing with malevolence. It stalks forward on its bandy legs, claws cutting deeply into the ice below it.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [ST] Softhands' body is rent limb from bloody limb as the creature's claws tear into him. He has time for only a muted, glottal scream before his spine snaps. His left arm goes pinwheeling over Iscal's shoulder, trailing blood. Soldas blanches, gagging.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [ST] The surviving members of the Once Dead fan out, surrounding the creature per Summer's instructions. Relic turns away from the horrific slaughter to run for his discarded blade, dropping and sliding across the ice to grasp it.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [Iscal] Iscal almost looses control of his bowels as Softhand's arm spins over his shoulder. I wasted thread, he thinks, to avoid thinking anything else. He moves with the others when they attack, ducking under its arm and ramming his truncheon into its side as heavily as he can. Once, twice.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [Iscal] "Evil bitch," he pants. It reminded him of Ragged Red. She enjoyed dismemberments as well.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [Iscal] His fear robs the strength from the club though, and all he does is tear a little skin from it.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [Summer] The surviving Once Dead in place, he give a warcry, charging it from the front, so that the others would be able to take it from behind. Its claws gleam, closer to his eyes than any would wish. He strikes at it as fast as he can, caring less for the strength of each blow than the distraction.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [Summer] His first blow deflects one clawed hand wide, sending a finger flying off, lost into the sun. He then backhands the axe across her ribs, cutting deeply, and strikes another blow down into her jaw, crushing that side of her face and leaving it a bloody mess.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [ST] Oda and Pixie fall upon the staggering creature almost as one, blades falling clumsily but efficiently, carving away at the creature. The spine gives as Oda uses his considerable weight to smash his chopping sword into it. Pixie dodges the creature's wild flailing to bury her smaller blade between its ribs, stabbing a steel tip like a pinprick into its heart. The creature goes down, flailing
| |
| − | | |
| − | [ST] as it dies, smashing wildly at the ice, cracking it in its fury.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [ST] It shudders once more and lies still. The Once Dead around it are covered in its blood, and that of their comrade.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [ST] Relic walks up, his blade retrieved, and gives a low whistle. "Not bad."
| |
| − | | |
| − | [Iscal] No work for him, now that Softhands was dead.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [ST] Soldas says nothing. A splash of blood mars his left cheek, but he doesn't bother to wipe it away.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [Iscal] He looks to see how Jek and Miruna's groups fared.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [ST] The battle seems to have wound down, the few remaining Hags either dying or fled to the horizon, yelping sharply. Jek and his forces have swept them from the deck of the barge. Of Miruna and his troops there is no sign. The collision between the Stalwart and the Razor has reduced both ships to splintered timber. Dead bodies lie motionless around the crash on the ice, blood spreading around
| |
| − | | |
| − | [ST] them. Soon, it may be difficult to spot the original stains.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [ST] "This is a hell of a fuckup," Oda grunts. For once, Pixie doesn't correct him. "They... they were waiting for us. They killed everyone and they were waiting for us."
| |
| − | | |
| − | [ST] She shakes her head, obviously a little shaken. "They were waiting!"
| |
| − | | |
| − | [Iscal] "Maybe they were still hungry after they ate the Third Scale. Someone should take a look inside the Razor, if they can manage it. Might be they came out of some hole in the ice."
| |
| − | | |
| − | [Iscal] The way his gaze wanders over the others it's obvious he doesn't think it should be him.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [Summer] With half of its jaw missing, and blood still welling, the Mother Hag's head made for a poor trophy. A pity. "The Hags are not that sort of beast. They must have moved in after the others died, and been feeding off the bodies. Like as not, thats why they were in the ships to be disturbed.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [ST] "Not that kind of beast?" Oda shakes his head. "They looked nasty enough to me."
| |
| − | | |
| − | [Summer] He slaps Soldas on the shoulder. "Lets hurry to the relief of our comrades."
| |
| − | | |
| − | [ST] Soldas doesn't respond at first, blinking slowly. He shakes his head, as if coming back to himself. "Y-yes," he says.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [Iscal] There could be survivors. Iscal wanders over to the Razor to check pulses.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [Summer] Accepting that as an order, he runs off to the barge, where there was still some fighting. He was a man of his word, and wanted to make the second clean kill that he had sworn to, not that anyone would say he had not lived up to his promises.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [ST] Soldas and the others trail after him towards the wreck. There aren't many. Miruna and his group managed to leap off the ship before its destruction, but Seven-Fingered Sally will never see another sunrise. The ship rolled over her, and the massive cutting blade added both her legs to her previous tally of three missing fingers. Her eyes stare sightlessly at the sky.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [ST] Farnese's sailors have faired much worse - a good dozen of them have died in the crash, or perish soon after. Working feverishly, Iscal is able to save a few of them, but there's no saving the Stalwart; both it and the Razor are utterly ruined.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [ST] The Gullwings' barge, the Trout Queen, is the scene of the last nasty fighting, as Jek and the others, with the aid of Summer, kill the last of the hags. Waiting for further orders from Soldas, Jek bars the ship and returns to report, bringing Summer with him.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [ST] And so, afternoon finds Iscal resting in the lee of the smashed Stalwart, having just finished with the last of the patients. Pixie and Relic are nearby, the former gnawing at a piece of jerky. Oda has gone off to drink. Soldas sits near him, silent, dark eyes cautious and watchful.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [ST] "What next, boss?" Pixie asks, chewing with determination. Relic shoots her a warning glance.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [Iscal] Iscal looks up wearily. There's a great deal of blood on his sleeves and his front, though he washed his hands with snowmelt.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [Iscal] "If we can't get into the structure, perhaps..." he trails off suggestively.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [ST] "We seem to have solved the mystery, at l-least," Soldas says. "The Hags killed the Third Scale, and the Gullwings before them."
| |
| − | | |
| − | [ST] "Hags aren't that smart," Relic says, coughing. "They're scavengers, mostly. Fight when threatened, or to protect their young."
| |
| − | | |
| − | [Iscal] Iscal hesitates. The Guillwigs, perhaps, but the Third Scale were hardly a group of incompetents. He remains silent, however.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [ST] He coughs again, and reaches out to snatch the cigarillo from Pixie's hand, stomping it out against the ice. "You'll make your breath smell worse than it already does," he growls.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [ST] "Like you'd find out!"
| |
| − | | |
| − | [ST] "Reporting, sir," Jek says, stepping up. His arm is lightly bandaged, but other than looking tired, he doesn't seem too bad. "I left Avir to watch on deck. He wasn't happy about it."
| |
| − | | |
| − | [ST] "Sir?"
| |
| − | | |
| − | [ST] Soldas looks up at him blankly.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [Summer] Summer walks to the group behind Jek, and seeing Soldas' mood, doesn't bother to report with him. He walks over to his recently appointed fang, and sits on the ice, back to the dead ship behind.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [Iscal] "Your orders? Do we return to Icehome?" Iscal hints. He didn't see much use to staying at the Tomb. Better let it rest, whatever was inside.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [ST] "We need to investigate the barge first," Jek says. "There may be a hag tree inside. Besides, we're hardly in a condition to return. We'll have to wait for the next airboat and pop a distress flare."
| |
| − | | |
| − | [ST] "Yes," Soldas begins uncertainly. "Perhaps the barge, and then-"
| |
| − | | |
| − | [Summer] "That was ill luck, losing our ship and so many men. Perhaps we will need to send scavenging parties into the Trout Queen to see what the Hags have left us, because we may not ahve the stores to reach Icehome on foot."
| |
| − | | |
| − | [ST] "There won't be nothing left if they've been at it for any time," Relic says. "Maybe we shouldn't burn those bodies too fast. Or too long." He wheezes laughter at his own joke.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [Iscal] "Ill luck to speak such things," Iscal mutters hypocritically, glaring at him. Staring was a slow death; he was careful to predict fast ones for him and his comrades.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [Iscal] *Starving
| |
| − | | |
| − | [ST] "Fair enough, pup," Relic says, smiling. "When you live as long as me, you have to have a sense of humor, t-"
| |
| − | | |
| − | [ST] "Where is the man I have to kill?"
| |
| − | | |
| − | [Iscal] "What?"
| |
| − | | |
| − | [ST] The voice comes suddenly from behind Jek and Summer. A figure approaches, hunched over in anger. A tall, well-muscled man, dressed in layers of sealskin, a crossbow gripped tightly in his hans, the ends of his gray mustache curving up sharply.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [ST] He is Albiran, first mate to the dead Farnese.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [ST] "A bigger clusterfuck I've never seen. My captain and my men dead while the leader of the great ONCE DEAD cowers beneath the ground, leaving us to die! Where is he?"
| |
| − | | |
| − | [ST] The man screams, veins standing out on his neck. "WHERE THE FUCK IS HE?"
| |
| − | | |
| − | [ST] "Here," Soldas says mildly. His eyes are glassy. He does not tremble as he looks up at the other. The man points his crossbow at Soldas almost perfunctorily.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [ST] "Give me one good reason I shouldn't shoot you now, you worthless sack of shit."
| |
| − | | |
| − | [Iscal] Iscal stands, laying his hand on his truncheon. "None suggest themselves to you?"
| |
| − | | |
| − | [ST] Albiran looks over at Iscal, taking his measure. "Don't tell me you lot are loyal to this worthless cretin. That would make you more pathetic than him, and I hardly think that possible."
| |
| − | | |
| − | [Summer] Summer doesn't move from his seat. "Cease your prattle seaman, I saw Soldas lay his blade into an Ice Hag with my own eyes. He came out of the ice to fight, just as the rest of us did," a harder look. "Or do you accuse me of cowardice for our explorations as well.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [Summer] Soldas was not worth much, but he was their chief, and if he was to be killed, the warriors would decide and enact their punishment. THat was how it was.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [Iscal] "Lots of things are possible," Iscal says, looking at Albiran with dead eyes. His instincts sceamed at him to kill the man now, before he had a chance to fire. A crossbow in the gut was another long way to die.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [ST] "I don't know what to accuse you lot of. All I know is that my captain and half my men are dead, and my ship destroyed. We may all freeze or starve out on this godsforsaken stretch of ice, and all because the fool in front of me plays at leading men. Tell me you don't think the same! Tell me you find some worth in him!" He shouts it as a challenge. Pixie gnaws her lips. Relic's eyes are
| |
| − | | |
| − | [ST] bright and hard.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [Iscal] "I do," Iscal says quietly. His grip tightens on his truncheon.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [Summer] "And it is Soldas to blame that your captain let a Hag, a Hag that six of us killed together, get through your entire crew and steer your vessel into another?"
| |
| − | | |
| − | [ST] Albiran looks between the two men with a glare, biting back his rage.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [ST] "Kill me if you must," Soldas says. "It will not undo what has been done. And you will not live long after." His heart hammers visibly in his throat as he says it.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [ST] With an angry snarl, the man turns the bow away from Soldas. "You're not worth it," he says. He spits, the glob striking Soldas in the forehead, then he turns to the rest of the watchers. "None of you are worth it. Stay away from me and mine, or I'll kill every last one of you."
| |
| − | | |
| − | [ST] He turns and begins to walk away.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [Iscal] Iscal's truncheon jerks as the man spits and walks away. He glances at Soldas. "Shall I kill him, sir? Might be better to, before his anger festers and he thinks to come at us when we sleep."
| |
| − | | |
| − | [Iscal] Or fight with them for food, if Summer Sky was right about the food situation.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [ST] "N-no," Soldas says. "F-fighting would be all but certain, then. He'll soon cool off."
| |
| − | | |
| − | [Summer] Summer glowers. "He will have to."
| |
| − | | |
| − | [ST] "Iscal. Summer. Thank you." Soldas does not mention those who did not stand up for him, or Jek, who had to bite back a gasp of laughter at the glob of spit.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [Summer] He nods absently, looking at a piece of the Stalwart's wreckage that he had retrieved. With some deliberation, he decides that he could claim to have killed the Mother Hag as well as two others, for if he had not struck the last blow, he had struck a mortal one, and sets to carving fetishes of them, to add to the sixteen already hanging from his hip.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [Summer] He manages to capture the Mother Hag's fearsome visage properly in the hard wood of the dead ship, and hangs the result well pleased with himself.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [ST] "Not bad," Pixie says appreciatively as she admires the carving. She's smoking again. "My father bought one of those from a Guildsman once."
| |
| − | | |
| − | [Summer] "Mine can not be bought, only earned." He grins. "I must say, this was rather better made than my earlier trophies."
| |
| − | | |
| − | [Iscal] Iscal shrugs and squats back down, lowering his truncheon again.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [ST] Soldas makes a noncommital grunt. Jek opens his mouth to ask again about investigating the barge only to throw his arms up in disgust and walk away.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [Iscal] "The barge, sir?" he reminds Soldas. It was no shame on him he needed a bit of support. He glances at the others and Jek's retreating back. "Perhaps Jek could lead the party," he suggests, slightly maliciously.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [ST] "Yes. Jek. Well. He seems to be doing it." Soldas gives a brief, strained laugh. Relic looks at him oddly.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [ST] For a few moments, silence reigns as Summer works at his carving, but all too soon, it is interrupted again.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [ST] Chokes on Mirth arrives, color visible on her cheeks even beneath her complex facial tattoos. It is more than just the cold; she has been running. "Something the scalelord should see," she says tersely. "This way."
| |
| − | | |
| − | [Summer] Summer stands, curious, bored, and unwilling to be left behind.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [ST] "Fancy Simon found it," she adds, rolling the name strangely in her mouth. Clearly, it is not an adjective she used before her death.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [ST] Soldas rises, taking a deep breath. "Very well. Iscal. Summer. Pixie. Relic. With us."
| |
| − | | |
| − | [Iscal] Iscal falls in behind him.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [ST] As the Once Dead follow after Chokes on Mirth, it becomes clear that trouble is brewing around the camp. Jek and his men have vanished into the depth of the barge to scavenge, but nearly all the sailors are busily working to scavenge supplies. Albiran sits atop a barrel of rum, glaring frostily at a group of Once Dead. They return his gaze coolly. Winter Fish is cleaning his crossbow.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [ST] "Going to be trouble," Relic says. "Soon, too. Whatever this is... maybe we should make it fast."
| |
| − | | |
| − | [ST] "Old man always rushing," Chokes on Mirth says flatly. "Some day old man will rush right into death."
| |
| − | | |
| − | [Iscal] "We could make a gesture," Iscal says quietly. "Do something ...interesting.. enough to Albiran, the others will fall into line quick enough."
| |
| − | | |
| − | [ST] Soldas does not respond to this. Relic seems to consider it for a moment, then shrugs and coughs a wad of phlegm onto the ice.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [Iscal] He had seen it often at Red Ragged's hands. "I could do it, if you others don't have a mind to. It wouldn't bother me."
| |
| − | | |
| − | [ST] "I bet it wouldn't-" Pixie begins, stopping as Relic digs an elbow into her belly.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [Iscal] His grip tightens around his truncheon to stop his hands trembling. He glances at her. "Oh, there's just a threshold you need to get over to subtract the strength from jelly any man's spine. I've seen it done."
| |
| − | | |
| − | [ST] Ahead, Fancy Simon is kneeling on the ice, looking at something on the ground. His face is down and shrouded by his hood, but the others can tell it is him by the scents he always favors. Peppermint, at the moment, strange and alien out on this blood-stained ice.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [ST] "Enough," Relic says tightly. Summer can see him mouth 'you idiot' at Pixie.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [ST] "I most certainly would not mind seeing Albiran dead," Soldas says, his voice rich with conviction at once. "But not if it would produce more fighting. Unless..." he sounds uncertain. "You all think killing him is wise."
| |
| − | | |
| − | [Iscal] "Not really for you to say, is it?" Iscal says, but he falls silent as they near Fancy Simon and Soldas speaks.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [Iscal] "I couldn't really say," Iscal mutters.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [ST] "Sir," Simon says, oblivious to the previous discussion. "Look at what I found!"
| |
| − | | |
| − | [ST] He holds up something small, steel, frost covered. A grappling hook.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [ST] "Way out here on the ice," He says, blue eyes shining. "What do you think it means?"
| |
| − | | |
| − | [Iscal] Iscal stomps on the ice experimentally. Maybe it was thin in places. He squats down and peers through it.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [ST] "And that's not all," Simon continues. "There's a sign on the ground over here, in Old R-"
| |
| − | | |
| − | [ST] As Iscal stomps the ground, it seems to give, just slightly. And then, as he kneels, and Summer and the others step up behind him, the ground pitches down drastically and suddenly, as if falling away. Pixie, Relic, Soldas, Summer, and Iscal fall into a suddenly looming darkness.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [ST] Air rushes past their faces at they fall. Iscal hits something metal, feeling the sensation like a kick in the ribs. He strikes something solid, gasping loudly, and there is a clattering near him, the groaning of gears. A few moments later, Summer and the others crash down beside him. Soldas grunts in pain.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [ST] Light shines down from a narrow slice of sky above. Something pinwheels against the light, which is rapidly shrinking. Simon's legs.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [Iscal] Iscal lies there gasping for a few moments before he squirms away, squinting at what they had crashed into. "Thought maybe there was an ice cave," he says eventually.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [ST] The bright light is fading. Helpless, Simon struggles to clamber to safety as the huge lid above, previously wedged open, begins to telescope shut.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [ST] "No!" He screams, scrabbling uselessly at the metallic surface. "No! No! Nkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkk"
| |
| − | | |
| − | [ST] There is a wet crunch. The light above vanishes. Something falls past the prone Once Dead, smelling of peppermint.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [Summer] Summer jumps to his feet, retirving his axe and looking about wildly. His hood had been pulled back in the fall, and his hair flew about in a discheveled mass of braids.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [Iscal] Iscal cringes back against the cold thing behind him. There must be a drop. "Anyone have a light? Pixie?"
| |
| − | | |
| − | [ST] As he springs up, Summer hears a massive, booming crash from above as the door closes. Blackness presses in for a moment, but fades thereafter. There is SOME light here, though diffuse, from small crystals set in the walls. The Once Dead seem to be near the top of a large, circular shaft, on a small platform jutting out into its width. Darkness falls away below. As Iscal's question hangs in
| |
| − | | |
| − | [ST] the air, the sound of half of Simon striking bottom finally echoes up.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [ST] "I don't... I don't know..." Pixie says, fear tinging her voice. "What happened?"
| |
| − | | |
| − | [Iscal] "You smoke those things you buy from the Guild, don't you? Very bad for your health."
| |
| − | | |
| − | [Iscal] "We fell." He squirms onto his stomach and looks down the shaft.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [Summer] "Under the ice? This must be the inside of the thing, whatever it is . . whatever this is." He sounds unnerved, for once.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [ST] "Oh... y--- yes.... my 'rillos." She fumbles, striking flint to spark, and an ember springs up in front of her face.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [ST] "He didn't mean for you to light one up, you idiot," Relic says. "And I'm too old to enjoy having a young lady on top of me." He slithers out from under her.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [Iscal] Iscal takes it from her and flings it into the shaft near the wall, watching it closely as it fell for any sign of another ledge.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [ST] In the faint light of Pixie's cigarillo, Iscal can glimpse a narrow door in the wall behind their platform. As he throws it down and looks, he sees it falling through the dimness. There is another ledge below, and - the ember falls away, and he can see no further.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [Iscal] "There's a doorway beneath us," he says, looking at Summer. A very useful sort of man.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [Summer] He eyes him. "Theres a doorway behind us as well. I'm not going over the ledge lest its needed."
| |
| − | | |
| − | [ST] Soldas rouses himself with a pained groan and a shuffle. There is ample room for all of the Once Dead on the narrow shelf, which means that the shaft is quite large indeed.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [Summer] He walks to the door, wondering if it opened as awkwardly as the last they had encountered.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [ST] The door hisses open easily as Summer approaches it, casting a bright light into the shaft. Iscal can see that he landed near a complex network of gears. Beside it, stretched along the length of the ledge, is a massive Exalted weapon, a daiklave.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [ST] "My arm," Soldas says, as Pixie marvels at the blade. "I think it's broken."
| |
| − | | |
| − | [Iscal] "Let me see." Iscal squats beside him, and feels the bone. He's gentler than he had been with others.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [Iscal] He reaches into his satchel and draws out a long shaft of wood. "A proper splint will have to wait," he cautions. "But this should do to make sure we won't need to break it again."
| |
| − | | |
| − | [ST] "Thank you..." Soldas says, with a pained hiss.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [Iscal] He gives Soldas a bit of morphine- something else he'd been parsimonious with otherwise- splints the arm, and makes up a sling.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [ST] "What now?" Relic asks to no one in particular. From his position in the doorway, Summer can see a short, frost-rimed hallway leading forward. Light is coming from somewhere up ahead, but the glow panels on the ceiling seem to be burned out.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [ST] It's very, very cold here, little warmer than outside.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [Iscal] "Not much choice, is there?" Iscal grunts, helping Soldas gently to his feet. Still, it wasn't his order to give. "Sir?"
| |
| − | | |
| − | [ST] Soldas shrugs. Truthfully, there is little else to do.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [ST] "Wonder whose sword this is," Pixie says, attempting to lift the massive blade. She gets it perhaps an inch off the floor before grunting and giving up. It drops back with a clatter.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [Summer] He stares at it, then kneels to run a finger along the edge. "I wonder how long this has been lying here, for the ship to freeze over, and the edge is still this sharp," he comments after licking the blood from his thumb.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [ST] "Whoever stuck it in those gears was a lot stronger than us," Relic says. "Or else he had help."
| |
| − | | |
| − | [Iscal] "The first, if I'm not mistaken," Iscal says. He walks further into the tunnel.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [Summer] He sighs. "We can't carry it, so we should be on our way." It saddened him to leave such a treasure behind.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [ST] "We can't carry Soldas, and he's coming," Pixie protests, but her tone is light. Perhaps she doesn't entirely mean it. Soldas, glassy-eyed and medicated, doesn't respond.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [ST] Iscal leads the way down the frost-rimed tunnel. Glow panels overhead flicker fitfully, but ahead there is an insistent, if diffuse, brightness. The breath of the Once Dead fogs the air before them.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [ST] And then, Iscal steps out into the source of the brightness.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [ST] Occasionally, so near the pole of air, the Haslanti League has freak icestorms, early or late in the year. Freezing cold arriving out of nowhere, descending upon Greenfields rich with harvest or budding with spring, encasing them in ice, killing the promise of prosperity or survival. The room the Once Dead step into now recalls such a freak storm. It is an arboreum, a vast, rectangular
| |
| − | | |
| − | [ST] chamber full of trees and plants. They are dead. A thin layer of ice covers everything. Green grass has gone yellow and dead - footsteps crunch on crusted ice. Lilies droop. Colorful vines are fast frozen against tree trunks, blossoms entombed in ice.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [ST] The light comes from the roof of the chamber, a vast skylight. The light, shining as it must through perhaps a hundred feet of solid ice, is murky, but present.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [ST] Ahead, across the chamber, another doorway waits, firmly closed.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [Summer] He shakes his head at the sight. "This place is beyond my ken, but this room was not created in the north. I wonder how this place came to be - I thought the Haslanti were the only ones who ran shipping over the ice sea here."
| |
| − | | |
| − | [ST] "This is even older than me," Relic opines. "Maybe older than the seas and the sky. My mother used to tell tales of the golden age. Maybe..."
| |
| − | | |
| − | [Iscal] "Maybe it used to be a greenfield, until whatever magic there was died. Maybe the farmers here went mad and ate each other when they starved to death. No use wondering." Iscal crushes flowers under his feet as he walks steadily to the far door. He pauses by a tree, and breaks loose an ice-covered apple.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [Iscal] His eyes crinkle at the corners, and he offers it to Soldas.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [ST] The apple is chill and frozen under Iscal's fingers, but relatively fresh. Some witchery, perhaps, or else this place has not been long frozen. Soldas waves it away with an expression vaguely like a smile. He's a little too drugged up to tell.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [ST] Some creature is lying dead at Iscal's feet, a furry little thing like a cross between a cat and an orangutan. He's never seen one before. It is very dead - apparently the cold doesn't agree with it.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [Summer] He kicks it petulantly. "You do a lot of wondering, though we agree it is useless."
| |
| − | | |
| − | [Iscal] Iscal flinches at the sudden movement, and tosses the apple on top of it. "Do I?" he says distantly. "Forgive me. I'll get the door."
| |
| − | | |
| − | [ST] Water drips from frozen branches around the garden as Iscal crosses to the door. He steps over another pair of the creatures on the way there, and spots a caterpillar the size of his forearm frozen to the wall.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [Iscal] Iscal is grateful for the killing cold. He hated bugs. He presses the plate.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [ST] The door hisses open, revealing another long, featureless corridor. A small plate set into the wall by the door is covered in Old Realm Script.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [ST] "Wonder if any of these taste good," Relic says, kicking one of the three-eyed creature's corpses. It skids across a carpet of icy grass.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [ST] "You first," Pixie responds. She fumbles for her flint and tinder again, and soon another wisp of smoke is rising around her head.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [Iscal] He frowns and reads the script.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [Iscal] "Level 4 Intersection." He tells the others. "Well, that's useful to know."
| |
| − | | |
| − | [ST] Condensation from melting frost runs down the plate.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [Summer] "What does that mean?" the young man is getting a bit whiny when placed in a situation that he did not understand, and could not be solved easily with a blade.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [ST] Summer feels a cool touch in his head, like the wind over a sheet of ice. "Treat cautiously, young one. This is a place ill suited for your plaintive whining. You must remain alert."
| |
| − | | |
| − | [Iscal] "Hm. It's getting warmer." He frowns.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [ST] "Could hardly get colder," Relic points out. "I won't complain."
| |
| − | | |
| − | [Iscal] He doubted there were enough of them that their body heat alone would do it. Well, nothing for it. He enters the passage. "I suppose if the mad devices of the Anathema kill us, they kill us," he agrees, his voice echoing behind him.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [ST] As the Once Dead press on, the glow panels in the ceiling above begin to flicker and then kindle to life. Every ten feet or so, a red light blinks slowly. After the first few of these they pass, there is a crackle, and the red light begins to project shimmering words that hang in the air.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [Summer] Summer scowls slightly, but bites his tongue. Snowshine's counsel had always been good. The earring-relic of his family bit chill into his ear as it always did, but grew warmer from his body soon after Snowshine had finished chiding him.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [Iscal] Iscal oblidingly repeats to the others the shimmering words each time they appeared, "Warning. Breach. Quarantine Activated. Warning."
| |
| − | | |
| − | [Iscal] It loops. Again and again. As Iscal helps the others understand.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [ST] "Wonder why the lights only came on now," Pixie says. "Were they waiting on us?"
| |
| − | | |
| − | [Iscal] "Maybe. Or maybe it's tracking some monster that is tracking us."
| |
| − | | |
| − | [ST] "Maybe they thawed out," Soldas suggests. His breath no longer steams in the air. It is definitely getting warmer.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [ST] The passage ahead widens and branches, and the Once Dead find themselves at an intersection. More words are projected across a flat panel that hangs from the ceiling, dripping with melt.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [Iscal] "Quarters ahead. Nursery to the right, recreation to the left. Arboreum behind us."
| |
| − | | |
| − | [Iscal] He hesitates. "Nursery. That seems...safe. Inoffensive."
| |
| − | | |
| − | [ST] There is a crackle from overhead, and a voice begins to speak. A woman, clearly in pain, her voice distorted by sadness.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [ST] "...sorry. All of you. Very sorry. Necessary. You'll see. I..." It breaks off into sobbing, and then into static.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [Summer] "Whats an arboreum, the shaft or the garden?" he starts. "Whos that?" he asks, still rather uselessly.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [Iscal] "She said, 'Sorry. Alll of you. Very sorry. Necessary. You'll see.'"
| |
| − | | |
| − | [Iscal] "I think she was talking to us. I think she's going to try to murder us in some way." He peers down the corridors for any likely spots for rolling spiked balls to emerge.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [ST] There are no spiked balls in the vicinity.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [ST] "Well, as long as she feels bad," Relic grumbles. Soldas gives a grunt that could be a laugh.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [Iscal] "No doubt she has her reasons," Iscal says, nonjudgemental. "Which way?"
| |
| − | | |
| − | [ST] "Which one will get us out of here?" Pixie asks. A bruise is beginning to form on her left cheek. She must have smashed it in the fall.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [Summer] "If she's alive in this thing, maybe it hasn't been here for so long. But surely someone would have noticed it being buried under the ice. Could that have been one of the third scale, driven mad into spouting whatever language that was?"
| |
| − | | |
| − | [Summer] He grabs his axe, running to the door of recreation. He waves a hand to quiet the others, and gestures with his hand to indicate at least one foe.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [Iscal] "It was Old Realm. This ship...it's made of the Anathema's metal. Perhaps that was one of the Anathema's creatures, immortal...driven insane by thousands of years alone, grieving for her dead master..."
| |
| − | | |
| − | [Iscal] Iscal notices the hand sign a little late, but quiets, following with one hand on his truncheon.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [Summer] He would hold them at the door, where they could together hold off more than their strength even if the enemy was comitted to pressing through.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [ST] Relic and Pixie move to get into position. Soldas, his sword arm broken and splinted, flattens himself against the wall next to Iscal, fumbling for his weapon with his off hand.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [Summer] He puts a finger up again, in the manner confirming one thing approaching.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [ST] The footsteps come closer, closer, pounding. The thing gives a reedy, whistling gasp, a faint groan.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [ST] The hurtling shape springs forth, crouching, bent low. Summer catches the bright flash of metal, a red blur of blood, a wheezing shuffling groan.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [Summer] Whatever it is, it meets his axe as it comes through the door, flying horizontally at waist height, to catch whatever might be coming through
| |
| − | | |
| − | [ST] There is the clash of steel on steel, and the figure tumbles over, rolling to a stop near the center of the intersection. It is a woman in the lamellar armor of the Once Dead, her midsection streaked with blood. She gasps, her eyes darting wildly to and fro. Pixie screams in alarm.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [Iscal] "Shy Fox!"
| |
| − | | |
| − | [ST] The woman gasps loudly, thrashing, her hands going to her midsection. Her face and short blonde hair are streaked with dirt and blood, her lips swollen and chapped, but it is unmistakably her.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [ST] A rhythmic tapping sounds behind Soldas as his off hand trembles, rapping his sword against the wall.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [Iscal] Iscal's swing slows. They were not friends, but she had never called him a coward or a bandit's catamite either. He reaches into his pocket for thread and needle. "Calm down. Shh..." he says, putting his hand on her shoulder as though she were a nervous horse. "Shh..."
| |
| − | | |
| − | [ST] She twitches, not seeming to recognize him. "Hurts..." she moans. "Hurts... you... who..."
| |
| − | | |
| − | [Summer] He stares down at her, then belatedly puts up his blade. He wisely says nothing, not wanting to seem more of a fool with appologies.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [Iscal] "It's Iscal, from Soldas's scale. Shh..." He draws her hand away from the wound in her stomach and examines it.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [ST] What did I say about treading carefully? Snowshine whispers in Summer's ear.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [ST] A long horizontal slit runs across her belly. Whatever made it neatly parted the armor and the underlayers beneath. A great deal of blood has slopped out over her hips and thighs. Iscal can see coils of her intestines moving, shredded. It's a mortal wound.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [ST] He could patch her up perfectly and insure nothing but a long, lingering death by infection.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [Iscal] He pats her gently on the shoulder. "What did you see?"
| |
| − | | |
| − | [Summer] "I am glad that my axe did not make that cut." He says, mostly in reply to Snowshine. His blade was clean of blood, having deflected off her steel, and her armor.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [Iscal] "What hurt you?" He would have to knock her out if he were to do any surgery. Might as well get answers first.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [ST] "Why..." she moans. "Why did you... close the hatch... they don't like... they don't like the cold..."
| |
| − | | |
| − | [Iscal] "What doesn't like the cold?"
| |
| − | | |
| − | [ST] "The... the things..." she moans, her eyes rolling like a mortally wounded calf. "They're... they came from the ground. Th-they-"
| |
| − | | |
| − | [ST] She twitches, coughing, blood spraying across her chest and Iscal's arms.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [Iscal] Iscal holds on to her patiently. "Shh..it's alright. You don't have to talk any more, I promise," he says soothingly, stroking her hair. He takes a needle from his satchel and injects her with it.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [Iscal] Her head falls againt his chest and he lowers her gently to the ground. "Sir, if I may speak to you privately a moment," he says to Soldas.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [ST] Soldas looks uneasy for a moment, particularly with the others looking between him and the woman, but he nods stiffly. "Very well, Iscal."
| |
| − | | |
| − | [Iscal] He draws the commander away from the others. He glances at the woman too, and then at his commander. "I've seen wounds such as Shy Fox's before. I can stitch her back together..but she will likely die from infection, even with the wound-cleansing ungent I have. It would be an agonizing death. Worse, she would slow us down."
| |
| − | | |
| − | [Iscal] "Or I could ...do her a mercy. It is up to your, sir." Iscal's tone is casual.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [ST] Soldas nods, slowly. Behind him, Shy Fox twitches fitfully, on the knife edge between sleep and wakefulness. He swallows. "Up to me? Why... why me? Who am I to make such... such decisions...?"
| |
| − | | |
| − | [Iscal] "You're the boss, sir."
| |
| − | | |
| − | [ST] "I..." he hesitates. He swallows again. His hands are shaking again. "I never thought... this isn't... I didn't w-want, I didn't choose to- she's... she's ill. She is in pain. Kill her." He turns away sharply, striding away.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [Iscal] Iscal watches him. "Don't go far," he calls after him. Perhaps he ought to have offered to take the decision off the man's hand. But Soldas could handle it. Of course he could.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [ST] Suddenly, just as she seems about to drift off to sleep, Shy Fox begins to shake, screaming, froth bubbling up at her mouth.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [ST] "They are coming," she moans. "They are coming!"
| |
| − | | |
| − | [Iscal] "Shhh..." Iscal tells her, running to take her in his arms. "Shh...hush...." He puts his large hands against either side of her cheek. "Quiet now. Quiet." When she calms to take a breath, he tightens his grip and twists her neck savagely to the right.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [Iscal] There's a nasty, audible crack.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [Summer] He winces, but doesn't gainsay the decision, although that in itself made him feel a coward, not something he was used to.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [Iscal] "Her wounds were mortal," Iscal tells the others matter-of-factly.
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| − | [Summer] "She came from the recreation area, there may be more there." Or maybe they could avenge her. His hand tightened on his axe-haft.
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| − | [Iscal] "Does that mean we go towards them, or away?"
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| − | [Summer] "Towards"he syas, more harshly than he had intended.
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| − | [Iscal] Iscal flinches slightly at the snap, drawing back. His brow lowers in a slight frown. "Towards, then. You first."
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| − | [Iscal] He straightens Shy Fox's limbs and stands, pulling his satchel onto his shoulder.
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