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ODD
OCCURRENCES IN ICEMULE TRACE
by Nofret Hrist
Of late, the town of Icemule Trace has been the focal point for a number of odd occurrences. Some of these have been the sort of crises to which we have become accustomed--a plethora of vortices, and the sudden appearance of older and stronger beasts and creatures in hunting areas frequented by the younger Elanthians. Other incidents, however, seem to toll a terrible warning. Prophetic dreams, visions, and visitations, particularly by Ronan's devotees, though by no means exclusively, have been seen throughout the lands of late. An invasion, complete with previously unseen creatures, a vortex that blotted out the sky and stars, and sporadic bloody rain, came to Icemule on Niiman, the 6th of Lormesta. Worst of all, the town of Icemule Trace is threatened by the possible reappearance of a relic, which, if found and used, would give the town and all its residents into the possession of Luukos-forever.
To explain why I was in Icemule Trace for the past month, I must backtrack a little, to what I refer to as the Incident of the Coastal Cliffs. Had it not been for the Incident, I would not have met Arimantis, Kalail or Lord Truekillr. I would not have been visiting Ronan's Shrines. I probably would not have made such an effort to get to Icemule to hear Truekillr on the subject of the Vvrael. I would not have been pestering every living soul in Icemule for news and stories that might help me understand better what was happening here in the lands.
I. The Incident of the Coastal Cliffs
It was the Day of the Huntress, the 28th day of Eoantos when the incident occurred. (I suppose, as the time was 1:00 a.m. elven that it was actually Feastday, but we'll let that go.) I had been hunting sea nymphs on the Coastal Cliffs for about a half-hour, and I had an appalling headache. Fearing that the headache would be distracting should I meet up with any more nymphs--not to mention leapers and carrion worms, which also inhabit the cliffs--I headed for the North Gate of Wehnimer's Landing.
But once I arrived there, I was confronted with a swirling vortex.
Now, all who live in the lands know of the Vortex; the terrible rip in time and space that snatches up adventurers and monsters alike, and then drops them elsewhere.
I had heard terrible stories about the Vortex: how one young man of five trainings had been sucked into it and had been deposited in the Rift, an extraordinarily dangerous hunting ground so perilous that only one with twice the training of a legend has the barest chance of survival. How a youth of but four trainings had been transported from the outside of Wehnimer's Landing to the area beneath the crypt which is populated by arch wights, creatures so strong that he would have needed five times the trainings he possessed in order to slay them. One poor girl walked out the North Gate to slay kobolds and roltons and found herself in the Sheruvian Monastery, a place of great hazard even to the most experienced, and populated with insane undead. Another young adventurer was in the catacombs when he was transported to Danjirland--which richly deserves its name. Most of these youngsters had been killed at least once upon arriving at their "destination," some often enough to exhaust all of Lorminstra's favor. Others were lost in the Vortex for hours, unseen and unheard by any potential rescuers.
At the time, I had recently completed two trainings. I did not have a crystal amulet with which to call for help, nor did I have a gold ring, which would teleport me to a safer place, if I removed it. Nor was my longsword blessed, so if a swarm of high-level attacked me undead, I would not be able to fight back. I knew what it was like to perish at their hands, too; when I was still in my first training, an arch wight killed me near House Argent Aspis. If I were to be caught in the Vortex, I would very likely die.
All this flew through my mind in two seconds. Then I fled west-northwest along the old merchant road, going back the way I had come.
I had just left the road and headed west when I chanced to hear an unseen someone speaking, though I could not hear the words. Thinking it might be a rogue I stopped. If I had been robbed, or was about to be, I wanted to know who the guilty party was.
But I heard no snickering, and no such advice that a master rogue might give to a young apprentice. Instead I heard a voice say in an icicle voice, "The Chosen One is near. There is not much time left for us."
I was still thinking that the "Chosen One" was an exceptionally rich adventurer who had been targeted as a potential victim of grand larceny. So I was shocked when I heard a second voice reply in a hate-filled hiss, "Strike we shall silently, when they least expect it, silently and lethally. They do not believe in us any more. They account us a myth."
The words, "No one hunts for a myth," floated through my mind.
As if in response to the second one's words, the world grew cold--colder than Icemule Trace or Pinefar ever dreamed of being. Sound leached out of the world, even the natural noises of the birds and the animals of the forest. Within seconds, the world was oppressively still.
Suddenly the air was slashed by ruthless, inhuman laughter--at least, it sounded like laughter. But there was no joy or humor in it, however twisted. It froze the marrow of my soul. Panicking, not caring if they noticed me or not, I fled west.
I had only gone west twice, however, when I entered a quiet area of the cliffs and saw a woman.
Now, this being the Coastal Cliffs, it was not unusual to see strange women standing about. Sea nymphs are common in those parts, and you ignore them at your peril, for they are very aggressive and will attack even those who are not attacking them. Moreover, they are often wealthy, which gives most adventurers--me included--a good reason for hunting them.
This woman, however, did not look like a sea nymph, though I honestly couldn't see what else she could be. She was the queenliest woman I ever saw. She was tall and slim, with hair like winter sunlight, and with pale skin the shade of moonlight on snow. Her eyes… well, you could stare into those gray eyes forever and never fathom the depths of the mysteries they concealed. She was dressed in a gown of misty white, with a cloak of deepest black over it. Sometimes the colors almost seemed to mingle; other times, they were totally separate. She bore in her hand a white, almost crystalline staff. Her expression was grave, like that of a mother who sees her child playing too near the edge of a cliff, but who dares not rush to save him because he might panic and run the wrong way. She stood watching me, not speaking.
I had no idea who the woman was. At a guess, I thought she might be queen of the sea nymphs. She certainly was no adventurer--I generally sense my fellow adventurers' names--and ordinary monsters tend to attack first, not to stand waiting to be attacked. Whoever she was, she was a Personage, and not to be trifled with.
Out of some dim sense of propriety, I sheathed my sword and put up my shield, then curtsied to the Lady. "May I help you, my Lady?" I said.
She began to speak cryptic words. "Your salvation lies in sleep and dreams; without it you cannot prevail. Only this will save you when danger comes from the sky. Go. Tell your people."
My heart was stammering ten thousand questions, but as soon as she had finished, she melted away into air.
I went all the way to the edge of the Coastal Cliffs, but no one else had seen a supremely beautiful woman anywhere on the Cliffs. In fact, a few people insisted that they had just come up the merchant road heading west, and not only had they not seen the Lady, they hadn't seen me, either. That gave me chills. If they hadn't seen me, where had I been? And who was this woman?
I wandered about for days, seeking answers to what had happened to me. After pestering many lords and ladies (on the grounds that, since they were older than I they might know a bit more history), a consensus was handed down. The lady was no less than Lorminstra, the Goddess of Death and Rebirth. And the voices were those of her chiefest foes--the Vvrael.
None of this meant anything to me at the time. (One of the problems of growing up in a secular village.) Lady Avira and Lady Darcena advised me to speak to Lord Truekillr, who had met the Vvrael in battle before.
I did contact Lord Truekillr, who taught me a bit about the Vvrael, and whose praise of Lorminstra was unparalleled. Still, I hesitate to call the woman whom I beheld Lorminstra-it sounds too much like bragging.
Consequently, I never refer to her as Lorminstra, and will say quite openly that I do not know who the Lady is only that she is good, and spoke the truth.
The next thing that happened may well be a red herring, as Lord Truekillr does <B><U>not</B></U> believe that this quest is a copy of the Vvrael saga, though it shares certain elements with the saga. In truth, he does not believe that it concerns the Vvrael at all, and in view of his expertise in the matter, I am inclined to believe him.
Nevertheless, an elf named Kalail read the scroll on the message tree, and decided to pay me a visit. This did not strike me as a threat--at the time, I thought of Kalail as a potential ally.
I couldn't have been more wrong.
Kalail, it developed, was the Eyes and Ears of the Vvrael, a sort of advance scout. I learned very quickly that he--and his masters--were outraged at me for speaking of what I had heard. The following conversation ensued:
Kalail says, "Sit."
You pull out a chair and plop yourself down at the table.
Kalail taps the tip of his black metal staff on the ground.
You ask, "What is it?"
You see Kalail Zaerius the Dark Elf.
He appears to be in his 30's, has long, straight silver hair, dark eyes, and pale skin.
He has a small black skull tattoo on his neck, a small black skull tattoo on his forearm, a black chain tattoo on his forearm, a burning flame tattoo on his forearm, and a small black skull tattoo on his finger.
He is in good shape.
He is holding a long black metal staff in his right hand.
He is wearing a glass amulet, a glass amulet, some veniom-threaded robes, a skull-shaped black ruby cloakpin, a jet black skull, a tiny obsidian skull earcuff, a black spidersilk shroud, a skull-clasped grimy leather backpack, some black onyx-studded gloves, a thick black silver-studded belt, some courtly raven-hued pants, a silver etched scroll case, a ruby-eyed black skull pin, a mithril ruby-eyed skull buckle, a silver ruby-eyed skull clasp, an onyx-clasped vruul skin pouch, a pair of black ruby-studded bracers, an elven leather wand harness, a skull pin, a shadowy black weapons harness, a pair of black ruby-studded thighguards, a jet black cloak, a misty grey sallet, and a crystal amulet.
Kalail says, "It has come to our attention you… well, overheard something of grave importance."
Suddenly you have the strangest feeling that you are being watched.
The feeling fades as quickly as it came.
You nod.
Kalail blinks.
You say, "I don't know why, but I did."
Kalail says, "This has been deemed very… well, important by many of you Elanthians."
You nod.
Kalail asks, "Might ye speak of whom you have spoken to about this?"
You say, "Everyone in Silverwood, I think."
Kalail rubs his chin thoughtfully.
Kalail nods.
Kalail says, "Unfortunate."
You ask, "Is it not to our advantage to tell the truth?"
Kalail glances at you.
Kalail grins.
You say, "If we are in danger…"
Kalail says, "Nofret… you have placed yourself in grave danger by sharing what you have stumbled upon."
You ask, "The Lady told me to tell my people. What else could I do?"
Kalail nods to you.
Kalail says, "Aye… the Lady unfortunately has been dealt with."
You say, "I doubt that."
Kalail says, "She has placed you in a very interesting place."
You ask, "And exactly what do you get out of it if the invisibles succeed?"
Kalail says, "We will succeed, young Nofret…'tis inevitable."
You say, "Maybe. I don't know who the invisibles were or who the Lady is, and that is the truth."
Kalail says, "You have stumbled on something that was not for your ears… you will be watched very closely."
Kalail nods to you.
You say, "That will be very boring for my Watchers."
Kalail says, "Time is of no circumstance to us."
Kalail asks, "You have spoken with Truekillr?"
Kalail peers quizzically at you.
You say, "You know that, or you wouldn't be here."
Kalail asks, "We have read your letter… but have you spoken with him?"
You ask, "Why don't you ask him?"
Kalail says, "You sit in front of us now, young Nofret… Truekillr is distant."
Kalail's chair flies back as he leaps to his feet!
Kalail says, "The time is near… soon all will be shown."
Kalail taps the tip of his black metal staff on the ground.
Kalail just went out.
Kalail later tried offering me three things--safety, unlimited power and my life, if only I would stop talking about what I had heard. I suspected that my concept of safety and the concept of safety held by Kalail's Masters might be rather different, and power is not something that particularly interests me. As for my life--well, that is in the hands of the Gods.
I cannot boast of this refusal. There is no virtue in refusing what you do not want.
However, Kalail's Masters definitely did not like my refusing them, particularly my refusal of eternal and unlimited power. A small whirlwind blew about the room as shrieks of fury ripped the air. For a moment, I was afraid I would be swept into a vortex. Then, inexplicably, things quieted down again.
Far from being silenced--did I mention that I can be extremely pigheaded at times?--I continued to tell others about the incident of the Coastal Cliffs. I composed a song about the voices and the Lady, and performed it at the Silvergate gala. I even visited Ronan's Shrine on the Shore of Dreams, begging the god of sleep and dreams for help and guidance. Most people were sure that he was the one referred to by the Lady when she said, "Your salvation lies in sleep and dreams." I, however, was uncertain of what danger we needed to be saved from. I received no answer-at least, in the form of a vision or a revelation.
The following day, I chanced to meet Lord Arimantis. He was going to Icemule to visit Ronan's Shrine in the Hall of the Gods, in hopes that Ronan might answer. As I needed to go to Icemule anyway a
month hence to attend a forum on the Vvrael--a topic I still knew sadly little about--I asked Arimantis if I could not come with him. He agreed.
Our attempts to bespeak Ronan and Lorminstra were unsuccessful, though not for lack of trying. At last Arimantis had to depart for the Landing. I elected to stay in Icemule; I might not be so fortunate as to
find a guide on the night of the Forum. So I remained, convinced that the next month in this small cold town carved from a glacier would be the quietest, dullest and most uneventful of my life.
II. The Accursed Island
After wandering about town for a while, I made the horrifying discovery that I had but 149 silvers to my name. If I had to leave town to hunt, and I probably would have to do so in Icemule, I would need silvers to get past the guards at the gates. Fearful of wasting what little money I had, I headed for the low stone well that leads to the Underground Caverns. Perhaps killing and skinning a few rats and carrion worms would build up my bank account to the point where I could safely go outside the gates to hunt older and wealthier prey.
I explored the caverns for some time, discovering a seemingly endless bog and then stumbling upon a small island in the middle of a subterranean lake. I made my way to the island, and was wandering across it for the second time when I heard the sudden sharp hiss of Lord Armaxis. Plainly, I was not welcome
[Subterranean Island, Hillock]
This small hill rises forlornly just above the water's edge. Jagged rocks surround a tiny inaccessible cove on the north shore. There is something unsettling about the place.
Obvious exits: south.
You hear the voice of Armaxis ask, "Whom disturbs thisss forgotten place?"
You hear a sinister hissing nearby.
You say, "No one."
(Nofret looks around wildly.)
You hear the voice of Armaxis say, "Yet… you are here, yesss…"
You hear the voice of Armaxis say, "You must be… someone."
You ask, "What place is this?"
You hear the voice of Armaxis say, "Plansss abound here, vengeance shall be sssought…"
You say, "I haven't touched anything or disturbed anyone. Nor have I heard anything."
You hear the voice of Armaxis say, "Thisss is no place for one whom would pray to Ronan and the vile Lorminstra…" The hissing voice continues, fading to a whisper as its last words trail off into the darkness. "Watch yourself, sssmall one…"
You say, "If this is a shrine to the Serpent God, I am sorry. I did not mean to intrude. "
You shiver.
Then I ran, most unheroically, and without a thought of the fact that the Lady would surely protect me. I was terrified, pure and simple.
III. The Vortex
Naturally, being young, nervous and terrified of Armaxis, I told everyone in town about my confrontation with him. The general reaction was that Armaxis was bluffing--he did not have the power to harm a living soul. I was not so sure. Armaxis would not strike directly, of that I was sure. But there was nothing to stop either Armaxis or his evil master from manipulating a bad situation and making it worse.
Of course, I had no proof that either Luukos or Armaxis was up to anything. This was mere conjecture on my part. But just the same, I wondered to what plots Armaxis had been referring, and why he was haunting that deserted island.
About this time, vortex activity began to increase around Icemule. Once it was possible to see a vortex once every few days, if that. Now the vortices increased to one a night. Then two a night. Then to one an hour. Finally, the number of vortices swelled to three or four in a half-hour.
Furthermore, most of the vortices brought beasts or undead with them-creatures far beyond the scope of most youthful adventurers who were hunting lesser frost shades in the ruins at the North Gate, or those hunting kobolds, hobgoblins and snowy cockatrices by the South Gate. The least dangerous that I recall was a pack of ghost wolves (11th training undead) in hobgoblins. Other beasts and undead that appeared that either I saw or someone else reported seeing: minor glacei, caribou and snow leopards in lesser frost shades; ice golems wandering in the giants' area near the West Gate; ice wraiths turning up in wights; even a hooded figure showing up, briefly, in snowy cockatrices.
Psychic activity, too, increased at this time. Many Icemulians, including a number who were devoted to Ronan, the god of Sleep and Dreams, began seeing visions, though of what, I could not say, for all of my
what, I could not say despite diligent questioning.
At last Aranrhod told me that most, though not all, of the visions and dreams centered upon a relic, and the Council of Ten.
IV. The Council of Ten
The tale of the Council of Ten is too long to tell here in great detail, and, in any event, has been told elsewhere. Simply, it is the tale of the early days of Icemule, when ten evil wizards, halflings all, who betrayed their people and their town to Luukos, in exchange for power. Luukos gave a relic of his into their keeping until such time as his forces should take the town. Then the relic was to be returned to him, and all the souls in Icemule, living and dead, would be his. Unfortunately for the Council, and for Luukos, the people of Icemule, after a terrible struggle, defeated Luukos' forces and captured the ten evil wizards. Unwilling to slay their own, and fearing the power of the traitors, the people of Icemule decided to let their dead hero, Trevor Dabbings, watch over them for eternity. The Council was forced into the mausoleum, and wards were laid upon the door to the tomb so that nothing can ever go in, and nothing can ever escape. There, in Trevor Dabbings' tomb, the traitors-now liches-reside, until such time as someone finds the relic given to them by Luukos, and opens the door of the tomb.
The dreams, Aranrhod told me, spoke of two things--that the relic was in danger of being found again, and that not all of the Council of Ten had been imprisoned. Thurfel, the leader of the Council and the most powerful of the Ten, had escaped before he had been sealed into the tomb with his fellows. Now, supposedly, he was back, searching for the relic that had been lost so many years ago.
I asked around town, and discovered that the relic Aranrhod told me of had quite a history. Lady Iscikella had actually found it when she was a young treasure-seeker in the Underground Caverns. Stumbling through the fog and the mist that shrouds much of these caverns, she came upon a hidden shrine with a relic upon the altar. Meaning no harm, and seeking only to examine it, she picked up the relic--and was immediately attacked and flung across the room by a shrieking invisible force. Panicking, she fled. Yet she was pursued perpetually by that invisible force, by howling voices, by crushing blows she could not withstand, until she came to fear for her sanity and her soul. The Lady Lumnis bespoke her and told her to return the relic to its rightful place in that hidden shrine to Luukos.
That was when she realized that she had been carrying the relic about with her all this time. After a considerable struggle--for she feared to re-enter that shrine, and no mistake--she did as Lumnis bade. After a horrific battle with an unseen force all but crushing her, and equally terrifying combat with numerous wights, she managed to replace the relic on Luukos' altar--and immediately, the force ceased, and the wights vanished. Since that day, the shrine has remained hidden within the caverns, unseen by mortal eyes.
V. Avira's Story
I had scarcely pieced together Iscikella's tale when I met Lady Avira at Silverwood Manor. She informed me, with lighthearted annoyance, that she had talked to Armaxis about frightening me when I stumbled upon the island. Armaxis apparently told her that he was busy looking for something for Lord Luukos, and it was very important to his god that this is found. When asked what he was looking for, he stated rather haughtily that he was seeking a lost relic, sacred to Luukos, which had last been seen in those caverns.
I quickly told her what I had heard of another relic, and asked if the two could be connected. Avira confirmed my worst fears--only one relic sacred to Luukos was known to exist around Icemule.
Shortly thereafter, Avira made a trip to the island alone. This took courage--the bridge to the island had been guarded of late by a skeletal ice troll, a grizzly bear and a snow crone. Nevertheless, she made it to the island, and began lighting twelve candles she had brought with her, placing them in a circle and then kneeling in the middle of that fiery circle, praying to Lumnis. In this way, she hoped to bring a little light into darkness.
In the midst of all this, Armaxis arrived, and he was appalled at the sight of Avira kneeling and praying to Lumnis on ground sacred to Luukos. After demanding that she stop--an order she refused to acknowledge--Armaxis stunned her. When she returned to her senses, all the candles had been snuffed, and Armaxis was gone again.
VI. The Invasion
At this point, I had almost forgotten about the Lady's warning that danger would come from the sky. On Niiman, the 6th of Lormesta, a reminder arrived in Elanthia with a vengeance.
That night, the world went mad. First, the sky over the Landing turned a searing red. Second, the skies above the Landing began to weep bloody rain-though not everywhere. It was possible to leave one room in a hunting area in which it was raining, go to the next room, and escape the rain altogether. After that, a hailstorm appeared, spitting out hail the size of cockatrice eggs. Most adventurers only grumbled about the weather being odious, but did not run for cover.
Suddenly, as if from nowhere, temporal warriors began to appear. They were attired in full armor, and each one bore a Sonic Weapon in one hand and a Sonic Shield in the other. Most people that I saw fled the areas the warriors were in, though a handful of supremely self-confident adventurers not only fought the warriors, but also complained that they did not learn enough from the experience. However, a large portion of Icemule's population--me included--headed for a node where they would be safe for the duration.
This did not work.
Perhaps fifteen minutes later, a huge vortex appeared in the sky above Icemule and the Landing, a vortex so big that it blotted out every star. After hanging over the towns for a few minutes, the vortex descended to various nodes--the tavern, the stucco well, and so on. I was shocked to see a massive vortex with a black, swirling core descend to Silverwood Manor where I was practicing my music. Fearing that I would be swept up and dropped somewhere far too dangerous for me to survive, I ran straight for Town Square.
Big mistake. No sooner had I arrived, than a piece of ball lightning exploded and a huge vortex, even bigger than the one than I had fled, descended to the Square. As it did so, my vision clouded and my eyes seemed to focus upon a far off place for a moment. I saw a great struggle taking place between very powerful forces, although, despite seeing this, I could not tell exactly who these two forces are or over what they were fighting. I sensed a change in the conflict which, while having turned in neither force's side, was nevertheless a profound one. Slowly my vision refocused on the here and now, but I couldn't help but feel that I had been allowed a glimpse into things well beyond me.
As I stood rapt, tendrils of black anti-mana seemed to come from the vortex, and a number of people dropped to the ground, all but stripped of their mana. For a second, I thought I heard hideous laughter coming from the black swirling core of the vortex, but I was not sure. Then the vortex collapsed on itself and vanished.
I discovered later, after I had returned to the Landing, that two visions had been seen. Those belonging to the Order of Voln saw one, the one that is described above. The other vision afflicted those of a certain nonexistent group. Members of this group, so I have been told, were the ones who were all but stripped of their mana. Several tried to speak of what they had seen, but they appeared unable to do so. Those belonging to neither group saw nothing at all.
A mini-invasion went on for the rest of the night, with many people battling the temporal warriors, troll kings, mountain ogres, and so on that had suddenly appeared on Icemule's doorstep. After two to three hours, the people of Icemule prevailed.
I do not know if the two perils we face are related or not. They may well be separate--Lord Truekillr certainly believes they are, and his experience, both in the lands and with the Vvrael, is far greater than mine. However, I can just as easily envision Luukos and the Vvrael plotting to use each other. Luukos would not trust the Vvrael, but he might well wish to harness the power of the Vvrael for himself. And the Vvrael, whom I believe to be the force behind the Vortex, will of course use any available doorway into this world. In any case, I do not think that we have seen the last of the Vvrael, the vortices, or the relic, much as we might wish to.
For several people have reported seeing or sensing the presence of one of the Chosen in the lands of late.
VII. The Fourth Chosen
Terate.
Now, Terate died at the end of the Vvrael War. Died irrevocably. Yet something wearing his face and name is wandering the lands.
I may be wrong. I hope I am.
But I do not think the danger that the Lady mentioned is over.