Rime of the Frostmaiden
The Frostmaiden
I see youChapters
The Mythallar: “I’m not running”
Auril Comes: “Burn baby burn!”
The Cold Crone: “Yeeeee-haaaa!”
The Brittle Maiden: “Fire works!”
The Queen of Frozen Tears: “And now we can use the Obelisk”
The Mythallar
The company appeared under the spire, quickly shielding their faces. Brilliant radiant light shone from the fifty-foot mythllar rotating before them in quiet majesty. The vast chamber was filled with light that glinted off the ice as the mythallar pulsed with barely contained surges of enchantment, tendrils of crackling energy tracing slowly over the frozen ground.
The Ythryn Mythallar
Being so close to the device was awe-inspiring, the latent power near overwhelming. The mythallar was held in an enormous cradle within which it spun freely, one arm reaching high overhead.
As Morgan blinked and cleared her eyes she gasped. Standing nearby, gaze locked on the mythallar, was Hedrun. By her side stood Ravisin and her giant wolf, the druid sharpening her gleaming blade and turning her eyes to glare at Morgan.
Hedrun
Jankx popped his new daggers as Eearwaxx touched his guardian amulet and thought urgently, Come to me friend!
Hedrun turned her attention to the company, her pale face glowing in the radiant light. “You have opened the way to what I have sought,” she said, her ice carved voice soft but clear. “The mythallar stands before me, ready for me to assume my position as the Frostmaiden.”
Arlington raised his eyebrows at this declaration.
“And yet…"—she paused as she turned her gaze back the glowing sphere—“And yet, no.”
“What?” Eearwaxx muttered. “What now?”
“I free you from your burden,” Hedrun said suddenly, waving a lazy hand. Morgan, Jankx, and Eearwaxx felt a sudden release, grabbing their throats and finding the ice-noose was gone. It felt like they breathed clear for the first time since the fateful events of the Grove.
“You may keep the shield, a small thank you. But I must also disappoint you: Auril comes. I advise you to leave—now. You are not prepared.” Ravisin grinned as she ran a sharpening stone along her blade.
“What do you mean ‘disappoint’ us?” Eearwaxx said. “Aren’t you fighting Auril?”
“It is not my time. I will not ascend,” Auril said softly.
“Why?” Eearwaxx was deeply confused. Her wish had been granted, access to the mythallar, and she was walking away?
“As I have said, Auril comes.”
“Yeahhh—aren’t you going to fight her?”
“I cannot. Not yet.” Hedrun glanced at the mythallar again.
Eearwaxx followed her gaze. “Won’t she get that thing then?”
“She already has it…”
“What??”
“Even with the power of the mythallar I would be defeated. As will you. She is a god, you mere mortals.”
“What was all this for then?” Eearwaxx frowned.
“What would you have us do?” Jankx added.
“Do what you wish, take my advice and run, or do not,” Hedrun said.
“I don’t understand,” Eearwaxx said, looking like a confused child for the first time in a long time. " The Rime—we have to get rid of the Rime. I thought you wanted this to fight her to break the curse?”
“I do. But I cannot simply take it from her. I was…mistaken.”
“You’ve backed the wrong horse boys,” Arlington muttered. “Let’s get out of here.”
“We can’t! We’ve got to save the North!” Eearwaxx cried. He was shocked at Hedrun’s betrayal. She had promised to be a better god, to save the people from the Rime.
Tarquin scoffed, feeling the burn of Levistus’s medallion. “You don’t need to do anything—you’ve got nothing around your neck.”
Eearwaxx turned to Hedrun. “Can you remove whatever is wrong with them too?” he pleaded, pointing to Tarquin, Arlington, and Octavian.
Hedrun laughed softly. “No-one can remove what is wrong with them.”
“Well…that cuts deep,” Tarquin said, doffing his hat ironically. A dissonant whisper for later use, he thought grimly. Hedrun’s words gave Tarquin a sudden insight: where was Levistus. Surely he too wanted the mythallar, and yet here it stood and there was no sign of the frozen archdevil. He turned to Arlington and Octavian. “Where is he? We have found what he wants and yet he has not contacted us.”
Arlington knew exactly what Tarquin was referring to. He shook his head. “That’s why we have to go.”
Tarquin wanted a better answer than that. He turned to Hedrun. “I have a feeling that he who holds our bond has the same thoughts as you, Hedrun. That all is lost if Auril should take this power. But what if we all stood against her?”
Hedrun remained silent to Tarquin’s plea.
“Come on lads,” Arlington said, edging back toward the Obelisk, “We’re not going to get a second chance to exit.”
Eearwaxx was desperate. He pointed to the mythallar. “Isn’t this a power source…we could make magic…like my dragon…can’t we…” he trailed off.
“You could be onto something there,” Tarquin cut in, “But for gods' sake finish your sentences and get this worked out!”
“Can’t we draw from this power source to repair this city?” Eearwaxx said quietly, focussing his thoughts.
Hedrun surprised him by nodding slowly. “If you were to attune to the mythallar you could have control of its power.”
“So why don’t we do that?” It seemed so obvious to Eearwaxx.
“Because, as I have said, Auril comes.”
“How far away is she?” Eearwaxx’s mind was racing. Surely it would only take a matter of an hour to find a way into the mythallar’s arcane power.
“She is close.” There was a note of ominous promise in Hedrun’s tone.
“That’s all we need to hear, Eearwaxx,” Arlington hissed, reminded again of Eearwaxx’s stubbornness. “Let’s go!”
“No!” Eearwaxx protested. “Why don’t we all attune to it!”
Tarquin was surprised to sense a cold sorrow in Hedrun’s impassive gaze, giving him a glimmer of hope that she could still be convinced. “The burden that we carry,” he said pointing to Arlington and Octavian, “Our master, maybe he hasn’t made himself manifest because he sees only failure. Alone that may be true, but together, if we all attune to this power, there is a chance. Stand with us.”
Hedrun turned slowly to face Tarquin. “It seems you do not hear me. Auril is coming. If you are determined to fight…I will delay her long enough for you to attune.”
“Yes!” Eearwaxx said, pumping his fist.
“Perhaps you will find a way. But I warn you one final time to leave. I am sorry it has come to this. I can offer you no more.” Hedrun took one last look at the mythallar then turned and walked slowly away, joined by Ravisin and the wolf.
“Hedrun!” Morgan called after the ice witch. “Keep her busy if you can.” Hedrun nodded without turning her head. Tarquin shrugged and cast a bardic inspiration on her for good luck.
Morgan turned back to her companions. Her eyes were cold steel and her face deadly serious. “I’m not running.”
“Nor I. I’d rather die here,” Octavian said. He had heard all the arguments, and knew technically Levistus still held him. But he had his escape clause and had no doubt it was iron clad in his favour.
Eearwaxx nodded in furious agreement, then settled into an position to begin an attunement trance in front of the mythallar. Octavian and Tarquin knelt by Eearwaxx’s side to join the process.
Arlington was horrified. Only Jankx and Morgan stood. Morgan was calm, but she always was. Jankx looked tremendously distressed, fidgiting with his weapons and unable to settle. “Jankx we’re going to die here,” Arlington sighed, “You know that don’t you?”
“I do. I don’t understand what’s happening.”
“We could fix this,” Arlington scowled with resignation, “But, Morgan, you’ve chosen not to. And the rest of them I can’t even question.”
“Fix what?” Morgan said.
“This whole situation! We could not be here!”
“How is that getting rid of the Rime, Arlington? How is that getting rid of the curse in the North?”
“We can—”
“How is it doing that!” Morgan insisted. “I am free of my bargain—”
“Oh good on you!” Arlington snapped in despair. That’s wonderful."
“Going back in time isn’t going to make this not happen!”
“If we don’t have this thing around our neck,” Arlington growled, “We don’t even have to be here.”
“It’s true,” Tarquin said grimly, “And I do have a thing around my neck.”
Morgan sighed. “I’m not doing this because I’m forced to, I’m doing it because it’s the right thing to do.”
“And if I still had the torc around my neck,” Eearwaxx said quietly, “I would still be doing this.”
Eearwaxx turned his mind back to the mythallar and within moments he was lost to all but finding a way. Octavian too released his mind and welcomed the mythallar’s energy.
“I always knew this story was a tragedy,” Tarquin said with a soft laugh. He opened his mind to the song of the mythallar.
Morgan pulled her weapons free. “I will stand guard over them even if I die in the process. Because this is what everybody wants. If Auril wants it, then we take it from her.”
“Then why don’t we just destroy it?” Arlington said. “Why don’t we just bring the rain and destroy it?”
“If Hedrun is going to give us an hour then why not see what it can do.”
“She’s already said we won’t succeed,” Arlington said sulkily.
Even Jankx disagreed with that assessment. “I don’t know about that bit.”
“People have told us that before,” Morgan said with a nod at Jankx, “And yet here we stand. If Auril was here as a god, and she’s as powerful as everyone says, why haven’t we been smote? Right now? If she was that powerful she could just snap her fingers and we’d be dead right now. And yet we’re not. What kind of god is that?”
“What do you think the mythallar can do? How will this help us?” Jankx said.
“We won’t know unless those three find out.”
“Do you think we should all do it? Or…”
Morgan paused for a moment as she considered this. “I think our greatest chance is for us all to do it.”
“Then why hasn’t Hedrun?” Arlington said.
“Because Hedrun is afraid. She thinks she will die.”
Arlington laughed heartily. And so will we. He gave up. “Well it seems like we have no choice. The guy with the Staff is sitting down meditating,” he said glancing at Eearwaxx, “And none of you will stop it. To hell with it all—how is this done anyway?” Arlington sat down in what he decided was an appropriate position for ‘attunement’, a faux-oriental squat that he had learnt from his erstwhile brother. It was deeply offensive, but that’s what the aristocracy was for. He closed his eyes and started the hunt.
“So are we all…this is it?” Jankx stumbled out to Morgan, “We’re going to make…this is it?” He could barely make a coherent sentence, but if even Arlington submitting it seemed the decision was made.
“We don’t have any more time to waste,” Morgan said. She pointed to the borders of the mythallar chamber where crackling frost had reached and was starting to breach the boundary.
Jankx shook his head and slumped to the ground. “One in all in. I don’t know this does, and I don’t know what we’re doing. I long since lost any understanding.” He closed his eyes and hoped.
Morgan took a final look at her silent companions. If Auril turned up there would be a rude awakening, and some may be attuned, and everyone might get smote. She settled her shoulders, then settled into a far more appropriate meditative stance and followed Ezra into the mythallar.
Those that were furthest along the attunement process had made the connection to the mythallar, the alien nature of the device making the process a struggle. Slowly but surely they each found a path into the heart of the device, whether it by through song, arcana, or the druidic pathways. And each was surprised to find that Auril was not attuned. There was no-mind controlling the mythallar, it was completely open. Everyone pushed deeper now the way was established, reaching for knowledge of how the device was used.
Eearwaxx was the closest to the truth of the mythallar. He realised with awe that it was a near limitless font of weave derived magical power. Whoever created it had shaped it for three main purposes: flying the city of Ythryn, empowering magical items (and Ythryn itself), and controlling the weather.
Octavian intuited that this was power must be how Auril was empowering her Rime.
Tarquin, following a challengingly melodic path through the mythallar found a more defensive use: a gravity well that the mythallar could use to suck things toward it at great range. It wasn’t an unavoidable vacuum, but it would slowly but surely suck everything into it’s radius. He realised that if something were to contact the mythallar globe itself it would almost certainly be instantly obliterated. Even getting too close would burn.
Arlington, completely lost in the arcane mystery, did have a revelation of his own: the city really could fly now. If the glacier was melted…
It was clear to all that with time and knowledge each of these purposes could be changed, wrangled into new powers or abilities—a weapon, an engine or creation, or an unbreakable shield—but it would take years to learn how.
And there was something else that unsettled everyone: the mythallar was by far the most powerful object anyone had experienced, and yet the Spindle had disabled it entirely. How powerful must the Spindle be to have done that? Tarquin found himself following this dissonance to a possible coda that even he found hard to resolve: what would happen if the Staff were to be broken by the Spindle, causing it to activate and remove all magic…including the magic of Auril.
One by one each of the company found their connection to the mythallar complete. And yet there was something that resisted, some small central mote that refused to reveal itself, a mystery the mythallar would not reveal. It was not until all six were joined in unison that the secret was revealed: a divine presence embedded deep in the mythallar: Auril!
She was not attuned, for a god does not stood to such lowly magic. It was something else, a divine connection that allowed her to use the power of the weave for her own magiks. It came to Octavian first, his druidic senses unfolding the complex pathways she had created: She was using the mythallar to empower the Rime. Everything fell into place.
Eeerwaax, fully attuned and the most in control due to his closeness to the Weave, directed everyone to try and push the divine spark out, but it was impossible so soon after establishing understanding. It would take experience and time, two resources in short supply. He instructed everyone to emerge.
Consciousness returned. The entire chamber was now frosted with rime, the radiant light of the mythallar refracting sharply off the frozen surfaces. A ferocious blizzard pushed down from the Caves of Hunger as something hurtled toward the mythallar. An irresistible voice that promised endless winter thundered from all sides.
“I…see…you!”
Auril Comes
Within moments the blizzard surrounded the entire chamber blocking all vision.
“Eearwaxx! Get the mythallar going—make it warmer!” Arlington said as he cocked his crossbow. No-one objected so Eearwaxx sent the first command the mythallar had received in centuries.
“We need to know what’s coming so we know when to use the Comet,” Arlington called as he scanned the blizzard, trying to find if it was a target rich environment out there. But it was impossible to see beyond the howling snowstorm—there could be anything out there. “I can’t see a damned thing!”
“Get to the balcony!” Morgan cried, “That will tell us!” As she spoke two hulking winter wolves loped out from the blizzard, jaws slavering with intent as the leapt across the chamber.
Tarquin, closest to the wolves, introduced himself with two quick bolts one of which plinked into the dirty white coat of the nearest beast. He sprinted toward the portal, tossing a bardic inspiration at Morgan now things were kicking off.
Morgan turned and ran toward the wolves, materialising Ezra directly in front of the massive canines. The ghostly warrior carved his sword through the shoulder of the badly injured creature, dropping it. He spun to allow his follow through to start the work on the remaining wolf.
“Run for the portal!” Octavian said pointing to the rune circle. He pulled his spear free and hurled it at a wolf, gouging a satisfying chunk of flesh. As the spear snapped back into his free hand he opened his wings and flew to guard the portal.
“With me Eearwaxx! Run!” Arlington yelled. He buried two crossbow bolts into Tarquin’s wolf as he sprinted away.
“Burn baby burn!” Eearwaxx cried as he started to move, loosing a firebolt that brought a howl of terror from the beast. The wolf leapt forward, only to be clipped by Ezra who took it’s feet away with a reverse slice. Jankx added another bolt to the sorry wolf’s pains, but didn’t move toward the exit just yet—he wanted the last wolf down first.
Tarquin slowed as he saw the first wolf fall and the second being picked apart. It was an auspicious start, but he was certain there was worse to come. “Someone go with Eearwaxx,” he cried, “Help him to use the comet! The rest of us—”
“No, no, no, no comet!” Eearwaxx interrupted as he ran, “It’s for destroying the Tarrasque!”
Tarquin cursed Eearwaxx’s intransigence, then looked to Arlington. “Arlington! We should defend this space! We don’t want to be coming back down into Auril’s welcoming party!”
“We won’t be coming back down!” Arlington yelled, “We’re going up, to the balcony!”
“But we’re not staying there!”
“Why not? Why would you come back here?”
“To maintain our connection to the mythllar!” Tarquin explained with some urgency.
“What?!” Arlington slapped his head. “Stop second guessing—we’re running to the portal thing! Now!”
“What happens if we yield this place?!”
“We go to a better place!”
“If we leave we can’t come back!” Tarquin cried. And he’d though Eearwaxx was stubborn.
“Tarquin!” Octavian yelled. “We don’t have time for this—we get up there, see the battlefield, comet everything, and come back down to wipe up!”
“We only need one person to go up to summon the comet,” Jankx stressed.
“One plus one,” Tarquin said, not wanting to leave the fate of this story in the hands of a teenage wizard. He loosed another bolt into the wolf and inspired Octavian. Octavian hurled his spear again and again connected hard, bringing a smile. He was starting to enjoy being a giant, efreeti armoured, shield bearing, spear tossing warrior: he felt complete. He jumped into the portal and vanished.
“Eearwaxx! Go with Octavian!” Jankx yelled as he finished off the last wolf woe with a precision shot that skewered it’s eye and exploded its tiny brain. “The rest of us will hold here.”
Arlington ignored Tarquin and Jankx and leapt through the portal. “In your own time, people!” he yelled. He was fed up with arbitrary changes to a perfectly sound plan. Eearwaxx followed close behind with his Guardian. They emerged into the pit of the library, Arlington cursing as he realised he’s miscalculated—there was an extra portal to traverse before they could get to the balcony!
He grabbed Eearwaxx’s hand to pull him out of the book pit. “Stop it!” Eearwaxx said, ripping his hand free.
“I’m just trying to hurry you up!” Arlington snapped.
“I know what I’m doing,” the young wizard growled. Arlington’s ‘hand’ was the last straw. They treated him like a child, but he had left that behind. It was time they treated him like who he was: a mighty wizard.
“After you, sir,” Arlington said rolling his eyes. Eearwaxx’s guardian lifted him out of the pit, Arlington having to scramble to keep up. They hustled to the portal and stepped down onto the table below.
In the mythallar chamber two shambling humanoids wrapped in tattered cold weather clothing emerged from the blizzard. Where their faces should be ice-blue light beamed out instead.
One staggered across the snow and turned it’s head to Tarquin, shooting a beam of light that the bard just managed to duck under. Tarquin sunk two crossbow bolts into the creature’s chest, tearing holes in the clothing from which more light shone. It seemed the creature was made of the eerie light. He retreated behind a boulder then turned and nodded to Jankx, giving him a bardic boost as a thank you for backing the revised plan. Jankx gave a wry smile.
Morgan reacted fast, getting Ezra into position. Ezra smashed his blade into the back of the creature causing it to stumble forward. Morgan was surprised by the second shambler, who tried a beam but smashed it into the nearby rock instead.
Jankx positioned himself to take full advantage of Ezra’s latest victim. As he fired he felt his aim wavering, so he called on Tarquin’s blessing to correct. It worked a treat, the bolt shredding the creature further still, light now pouring from every tear in the ruined clothing.
Octavian was half way across Iriolarthas’s chamber when Arlington and Eearwaxx emerged, Eearwaxx lifted by his Guardian. “Oh! You don’t need me—I’ll go back down. You stay with Eearwaxx, Arlington!” Arlington threw his hands to his face—not Octavian too?!—but before he could react Octavian had flown back down and through the portal. He emerged and continued flying to Morgan. He hurled his spear as he landed and once again it ripped through the target. He grinned and looked at Morgan who was suitably impressed.
It was like he was the greatest kobold, Morgan mused. She was pleased with how the fight was unfolding—Hedrun was a fool for running! As if to confirm her thesis, the walker nearest Ezra missed with both swings of its two huge fists only to be slain in the next instant by Ezra’s blade. The ghostly warrior didn’t pause, whipping across the chamber to crack his weapon into the single remaining shambler.
Jankx grinned too as he reflected on his own success and watched Octavian and Ezra’s work—this was almost going too well. As he prepared to finish the creature off, a sudden chill flushed over the chamber as the temperature dropped precipitously. He looked over to Morgan, who was pointing to the heights of the chamber with mouth agape.
The Cold Crone
Auril, the Cold Crone
A figure emerged flying from the depths of the blizzard, blinking and reappearing to hover above the melee. A hunched, seven-foot-tall biped with the head of a snowy owl, black talons, cloven hooves, and greyish-white wolf fur covering her body from the neck down. A pair of curved goat horns protruded from her feathery owl’s head and a cloak and cowl made of pristine white snow concealed much of her form.
“Auril!!” Morgan cried, her demeanour rapidly transformed. Show time. Before she could react three knives of ice shot down from fifty feet overhead, rocking her as they smashed into her shoulder. Auril shot down from above and grabbed Morgan around the throat, flooding her with vicious cold. In an instant the god blinked away to mid-air.
The cold light walker appeared inspired by its mistress appearing, blasting Ezra and shambling over to Octavian. It suddenly burst with blinding light, but Octavian was quick enough to shield his eyes.
Tarquin jumped from behind his rock and sprinted forward. He flung a burst of frozen air at Auril, curious if it would have any effect. The ice surrounded the flying god trying to freeze her in place…but Tarquin’s face fell to see she was safely cocooned within. Untouched, she flexed and the ice shattered and fell to the ground. Lesson learnt, Tarquin though as he swung his new mandolin into action.
Auril raised her talons into the air and struck them downward, summoning a thundering storm of hail. Morgan and Octavian were battered under the torrent, as was the walker. Jankx on the other hand danced between the massive hailstorms, managing to avoid every blow. Octavian struggled to move, instead shoving his spear into the walker which still bristled with light, clearly nearly dead. “Jankx! Knock it down!”
Jankx hesitated, but quickly decided on target reduction before godkilling. A single bolt did the job a moment later. He hoisted his crossbow and stepped out of the storm, annoyed at Auril’s attempt at slowing him. He felt fluid, in motion, and ready for this fight.
Upstairs, Arlington and Eearwaxx flung the balcony doors open expecting to see hordes streaming down from the Caves. Instead there was nothing, just the empty outskirts of Ytyhrn—and a raging blizzard that obscured everything and anything within a hundred feet of the Spire. Arlington cursed and Eearwaxx immediately turned to run back inside, shoving the comet scroll into his coat. As he sprinted he caught something out of the corner of his eye.
Arlington had leapt off the balcony. The great hunter started to plummet toward the ground 600-feet below. Calm as you like, he stuck his pipe in his mouth and pulled out his brand new Dragon Lighter, which had no trouble producing a flame despite Arlington’s terminal velocity. Thanks Iriolarthas. He lit the pipe and sucked in hard. Having satisfied his tobacco craving, he fished into his pocked and retrieved Iriolarthas’s other gift: the tiny ivory moose figurine. This had better work, he thought, tossing the moose into the air.
Eearwaxx shook his head and kept running. Crazy old man.
Tarquin was preparing to sing when he heard a wrenching tearing from above. He looked up just in time to see a chunk of iced-over ceiling of the chamber had collapsed, crushing him beneath the fallen ice.
Morgan, still in the hailstorm, worked her way out of its range and materialised Ezra high above behind Auril. She spun her head 180 degrees to stare at the new arrival, not surprised—but fluttering as Ezra’s sword was buried twice into her feathery form. Auril blinked away from him and slung two head-sized orbs of pure ice at Jankx. This time there was no dodging, though he did a good job of shimmying to have them glance off instead of crushing him.
From below the mound of ice Tarquin burst forth, healing his injured companions with a strum of his lute. He saw Eearwaxx suddenly emerge from the portal and grinned. The glass cannon was here: he cast an inspiration to the young wizard and stood back to watch the show.
Auril too had noticed the appearance of the mighty wizard. Three ice knives instantly flew toward him…but Tarquin turned to Auril, strumming three simple notes and crying: “No!” The daggers shattered mid-journey and Auril turned her head to stare with other daggers at Tarquin’s insolence. Tarquin grinned and played a resolving chord in response. Cold might not work on her, but now he knew counterspell did.
Octavian sprung into the air, wings beating hard, to draw level to Auril. Mortal combat time. He didn’t fool around with tentacles, staffs, or casts, he simply drove his spear into her with all his strength—and she could see she felt it, her owl eyes pressing into him with hatred. He was about to call Jankx to take advantage of his proximity when she blinked away again, drawing a curse from Octavian.
Jankx had been about to fire when Auril changed position. For a moment he felt he wasn’t going to be able to adjust, but his trigger finger paused for a split second as he dropped to one knee and recalibrated his aim. He released the bolt. It flew straight, true, and brutally fast, burying into Auril’s chest. Feather’s exploded as she let out a shrill cry of fury and…pain. Jankx winked at her.
Bad idea. Auril spun to face him then vanished and reappeared next to him on the ground. She struck twice with her ice-sharp talons, infuriated by Jankx’s insouciance. One struck true, hurting Jankx but not badly. Worth it, he grinned.
“Yeeeee-haaaa!!”
A cry rang across the arena as from the blizzard a new combatant arrived: Arlington atop a huge winged moose! His pipe smoked furiously, his lion-skin coat flapped frantically, and his crossbow lowered as he swooped into the fight. He flew at ground height, shooting across the chamber and releasing two bolts into Auril’s defenceless back. She howled with frustration and surprise, spinning to see Arlington’s dancing boar spear flying toward her. She turned back to Jankx and reached in to strangle him, but Jankx stepped easily to the side causing her to stumble forward. This is a god? Jankx thought to himself, surprised at her clumsiness.
Ezra took Auril’s cue and blinked into action behind the stumbling god. He sliced his blade from neck to waist and Auril fell, feathers exploding from her in a cloud.
“Godkillers, ladies and gentlemen!” Tarquin cried, starting a triumphant melody.
As everyone watched the feathers all began to freeze, transforming into ice as they fell to the ground. As they landed they began to coalesce together, growing and melding into a new form that shot up from the pool of frozen feathers.
Tarquin’s playing faltered…as Auril appeared again.
The Brittle Maiden
Auril, the Brittle Maiden
A 10-foot-tall woman of fearsome aspect made entirely of ice and frost emerged, standing proud and ready, her eyes burning with a cold blue light as a thin cloak of mist formed around her. Blades of ice grow out of her body at odd angles, breaking off as she moved. Her body crackled as she shifted as three ice mephits arose from her discarded shards. “The Brittle Maiden welcomes you,” she hissed with frosty menace.
Morgan sprinted forward to engage, pulling Iceblink free. She raised it above her head and it burst into flame, then slammed it down on the frozen god. “Fire works!” he yelled as she felt the flaming blade slice through Auril’s ice-hard bicep.
Auril clenched her fists and two icebound morning-stars formed from her hands, sprouting like Octavian’s tentacle. She walloped both into Morgan who took the blows with grim aplomb. The nearest mephit exhaled a cone of chilled air onto Morgan causing her to shudder with the cold. Another jumped to Eearwaxx and did the same to him, the Guardian absorbing what it could for him, and Tarquin was the third victim.
Eearwaxx finally joined the fray in earnest. He ordered the Guardian to pound the mephit, which it did with brutal efficiency. The mephit exploded as it died, sending shards of razor sharp ice into Eearwaxx and his metal friend.
The young boy stepped forward. It was time. He removed his beard and his hat, tossing them to the ground, and shook out his bright red hair. He was no longer the gormless child hiding behind a disguise, no longer an acolyte of greater men, no longer a child. He was the Mighty Wizard Eearwaxx Ravengard, and this fight was his graduation.
Eearwaxx took a deep breath and raised his hands as if he were pulling something into existence. From the icy-ground a draconic spirit arose, white scales glinting off the fire of Morgan’s weapon. It was the spitting image of Calcryx. Eearwaxx grinned widely and pointed. The moose-sized dragon rended Auril with its claws before opening its jaws to bathe the Brittle Maiden in flame.
From within the flames Auril did not look pleased. She reached down and hauled a stalagmite from the ground under the dragon, piercing its ghostly form from below and pushing it away.
Tarquin pinioned the nearest mephit with two swift jabs from the Dirgeblade. It exploded as he killed it, shattering into icy blades that Tarquin dodged away from having seen Eearwaxx’s experience only moments ago. His movement took him closer to the mythallar, the burning heat radiating from it almost comforting—though he daren’t step any closer.
Auril conjured another eruption of ice under Morgan who was thrown back. Octavian hurled his spear, calling on his inspiration to avoid the fresh 20-foot stalagmite, and it crashed into the Frostmaiden before returning to his hand. Auril turned her frozen glare to Eearwaxx and charged across the ice, forming a fresh morning star and crunching it into the hapless wizard. His guardian absorbed what it could, but Eearwaxx was staggered back by the blow.
From the corner of Auril’s vision, Jankx shot an inspired bolt to break shards of ice from her torso. Auril spun her head to take note, then blinked out of sight, appearing close to Tarquin, much to his chagrin. “Wait a minute,” he muttered, feeling suddenly vulnerable.
Arlington was still wrangling with the mephit in his face, despite wanting to target Auril. He unloaded two bolts into it, bearing the brunt of the ice explosion that followed. Finally he could turn his focus to Auril, waltzing his dancing boar spear into her.
Morgan chugged the potion she had retrieved from Eyepatch, healing her so she could re-enter the fray. In the interim Ezra applied two slicing blows to Auril. It was hard to judge how effective the attacks on Auril were as jagged icicles kept reforming on her as she shifted around the battlefield—but she was being slowly whittled down. Through all this her demeanour remained haughty and insolent.
A brittle smile formed on Auril’s face as she thrust her hands forward and a blast of frozen air erupted, enveloping everyone but Arlington and Tarquin in a zone of brutal cold. “Spread out!” Arlington yelled through the shivering, cursing his companions for their rookie positioning.
Eearwaxx recovered fast, sending the dragon in to deliver a scorching fire breath in retaliation. His hair flared red as he next pointed his finger and released a bright fireball streak that flashed toward Auril and blossomed with a low roar into an explosion of flame. The last thing she saw before disappearing into the firestorm was Eearwaxx’s guardian storming toward her to thump her.
“We’ve been waiting for this moment,” Arlington grinned.
Tarquin was now being toasted from behind and in front, but the sound of cracking ice from the fireball helped him ignore his precarious position. A moment later he regretted that ignorance when Auril sprouted another stalagmite, shunting him back and into the danger zone of the mythallar. In an instant he was badly burned with radiant heat—another step and he was sure he’d be dead.
He was bolstered when he saw Auril emerge from the flames dripping, the first real sign that she was hurt. “I love the smell of fireball in the morning,” he smirked, then injected a dissonant whisper into her defiantly foreign mind whilst strumming a horribly discordant melody:
Feel the fire you fiend
The mythallar resists you
Your end is in sight
Auril spun her brittle head to him and frowned, not moving, and Tarquin’s rollercoaster of emotions raced back downhill. He didn’t want to risk being caught again, so he misty stepped behind the furthest stalagmite, turning Auril’s terrain against her. She popped another one under the shield guardian who stumbled backward.
Octavian took Arlington’s advice and moved, spreading the field, then flung his spear again. His new favourite attack hit hard, cracking a chunk of ice from the Icemaiden. And this time a new shard didn’t grow back. “Jankx! Now!”
Before the rogue could act, Auril turned again to Eearwaxx, fury in her eyes. No-one fireballed her without paying a price. She held one palm flat before her and a gem-sized ice crystal formed, hovering. Eearwaxx felt his mind challenged by her divine will and for the first time in a long time, he faltered. An instant later he found himself encased in ice, moisture leaching from his skin. He tried to scream, but the ice was in his mouth, his nose, pressed up against his wide open eyes.
Outside, the dragon disappeared at the same time Eearwaxx did, and the guardian slumped as if it had powered down entirely. A cold smile crackled across Auril’s face.
“He’ll be fine!” Arlington cried shakily, terrified that the opposite was true.
Jankx tried to believe Arlington, but his aim was badly disrupted by the sudden turn of events. Everyone felt responsible for the young wizard, and now he was gone, trapped in a god’s cage.
Arlington realised he would have to lead from the front to prove his words true. Three stalagmites stood between him and Auril. It was never in doubt. He hefted his crossbow and leaned in, steadying his moose and peering through his frosty breath. It only needed one bolt. The Brittle Maiden’s body collapsed into shards of ice.
This time Arlington wasn’t fooled. He reloaded as the shards shot across the chamber to reform into Auril’s third form.
The Queen of Frozen Tears
Auril, the Queen of Frozen Tears
A 3-foot-diameter ice diamond shaped like a frozen tear coalesced. The diamond had facets and a sharp point, and hovered 15-feet in the air radiating intense cold all around it.
“That’s doesn’t look like it’s going to hurt,” Tarquin deadpanned.
“It looks like it’s going to…kill us,” Octavian said fearfully.
Arlington ignored his fellow cursees, but his second bolt flew wide thanks to the new wave of cold. He cursed and danced his boar spear into it instead. It pinged into the new form, hitting it hard but leaving no obvious trace of damage.
One of the facets of the diamond sparked with concentrated light as a polar ray shot across the arena toward Jankx. But Jankx was ready, jumping clear. “We need to get Eearwaxx back in the game!” he yelled, pointing to the tiny hovering gem.
“Tarquin’s job!” Arlington commanded, to a nod of determination from the lute-strumming bard.
Morgan charged forward. As she entered the proximity of the Frozen Tear she shuddered as the brutal, vicious zone of cold sent a shock through her already damaged body. She gritted her teeth and joined Ezra to crash their flaming Iceblinks into the diamond, once, twice, thrice. With each attack the floating diamond shunted slightly before returning to equilibrium. She spent everything she had to follow up with three more blows, but Auril had learnt—adapting to every swing to turn them aside on her crystalline shape.
Auril tried to press that advantage further with another polar beam, but this time it was Morgan who was ready, ducking under the ray just as the concentration of light exploded from the crystal. There was no way of knowing what she was thinking, if indeed she was conscious within the form.
Inside the gem Eearwaxx was fighting against Auril with everything he had, battling hard to recover his wits. He felt the gem pressing down, the pressure intensifying, freezing the life out of him. No. No! He refused to accept that her frozen will could trump the furnace of his intelligence. He strained against her prison, but it was too much, too hard, the divine mystery as impenetrable as ice. He realised he only had moments before he would be overwhelmed. He called on Tarquin’s blessing, and instead of reaching for Eearl’wixx, he reached for his own power. I am Eearwaxx Ravengard and I will not be denied! With a mighty last-gasp effort he cast Auril away, shattering the crystal and collapsing to the ice. He stood and turned to face Auril defiantly, daring her. “I’m back, baby,” he breathed softly.
As if in response, the Frozen Tear started to rotate, forming a tremendous blizzard that spread rapidly to cover a 30-foot zone centred on her. Morgan staggered slightly as the intense cold hit her again and Ezra was destroyed. Morgan was effectively blinded by the ferocity of the snowstorm, and those outside could see nothing within. Morgan couldn’t avoid the next ray from the crystal which blasted her with further cold fury, but she wasn’t budging. Either Auril died or she did.
Tarquin darted around to find Eearwaxx, relieved he was alive. “Show us what you’ve got, boy,” he said as he blessed him with a fresh lute-boosted inspiration. He then healed everyone he could, laying down a zone that coated the blizzard, much to Morgan’s quiet relief. Almost instantly a polar ray burst from the blizzard and thundered into Tarquin, as if Auril knew exactly what was going on. But Tarquin anticipated exactly this, strumming a counter-chord that sent the ray harmlessly into a stalagmite. Tarquin raised an teasing eyebrow, correctly assuming Auril could see him.
Octavian briefly considered shaping himself into an Ice Giant before realising he was already pretty much exactly that. He tensed his shoulder blades and flung the Spear of the North into the blizzard, feeling Arlington’s hunter inspiration assist in guiding his weapon true. Alas when it returned to him it was on the back of another polar beam, which rocked him back as the cold riddled his huge frame.
The blizzard was still impenetrable, but that wasn’t enough to dissuade Jankx. He felt he could almost hear Morgan’s growl from deep within, sending a bolt hard and true. It was an amazing shot, though he didn’t know that, and Morgan grinned as she heard something crash into the crystal.
Her grin was wiped away a moment later as a deafening, keening, resonant shriek emerged from the Frozen Tear. Morgan shrunk away as every facet of the crystal lit up with brilliant light and polar rays shot in every direction. Everyone was thrown back by the beams that pierced the blizzard first and bodies second. The cold was shocking and near overwhelming.
Arlington considered using his spellcraft but decided against it in favour of three crossbow bolts. He shot them in quick succession into blizzard. “Morgan! On your left!” he cried, and Morgan felt the bolt fly past his right ear. “On your right!” came the call, and this time it whistled by Morgan’s left. “Duck!”…and the bolt shot under Morgan’s legs. Three shots, three misses, but Arlington was none the wiser.
Tarquin was preparing to act when he heard footsteps approaching from behind. The last thing we need now, he cursed, spinning to face the new arrival. He was shocked to see Veneranda approaching at a rapid pace. She pushed past without acknowledging him. “By your leave,” Tarquin said with a puzzled frown.
In the thick of the storm, Morgan felt the cold drop precipitously again as she cracked Iceblink into Auril again and again. Her wounds were bad, her limbs frozen, but her mind was fresh, keen, and focussed: There was no stepping back, she was not running.
The Queen of Frozen Tears reacted to Morgan’s determination. A near irresistible torrent of icy winds formed around Auril, spreading to the far reaches of the chamber. Everyone in the company was dragged toward the blizzard, and the deathly zone of cold that floated at its centre.
Eearwaxx found himself inside the blizzard, his guardian by his side. He instinctively reached up to mend his hulking companion as he tuned his focus into the storm. “She killed my dragon,” he muttered gleefully, “She has to pay!”. With a demonstration of calculus well beyond his still tender years he lit his finger up again and dropped a precision fireball. It somehow missed everyone…except Auril.
The firestorm struck the frozen Queen so intensely that she lost control of the blizzard. It vanished as quickly as it had appeared, and suddenly Auril was visible to all. A polar beam immediately struck Morgan, crunching her back. Tarquin was shocked to see how badly Morgan was torn apart, but he smiled to see the grim determination etched on her face.
Before Eearwaxx could celebrate he felt a figure looming over him. He spun to find Veneranda reaching toward him. “Give me the staff!” she ordered, sending a psychic blast at Eearwaxx to force the issue. But she had not accounted for the mental fortress Eearwaxx had built: he had withstood a god, what chance did a brain in a jar stand? He smirked as he pushed her attempt aside—or tried to. With a surge of panic he realised the brain was somehow penetrating his mind. He felt himself handing the staff toward her. For the second time in quick succession he reached deep inside, and this time it was Tarquin’s bardic melody that he latched onto. With a grin he used the tune to redirect the brain blast into a harmonic cancellation. Veneranda howled with anger, the head detaching as the body swung her massive blade into Eearwaxx. The mighty wizard was less successful at avoiding that, though his guardian assisted in tempering the blows.
“Come on people!” Arlington yelled, rallying his troops. The arrival of Veneranda had complicated things, but he was damned if he would let this fight go.
In response Tarquin slowed Auril, Veneranda’s brain and her suit of flaming armour, making them more targetable and restricting their ability to act. He retreated behind a nearby stalagmite to avoid Auril’s rays. A moment later he was thankful for another reason as once again Auril drew everyone toward her. He managed to cling onto a chunk of ice to remain out of range. Jankx and Eearwaxx were less fortunate, shuddering as they were drawn into the aura of the Frozen Tear and the bitter cold swept over them. Arlington, having stayed clear of the cold aura, was less lucky when a polar ray swept out from the frozen Queen and steeped him in cold.
Octavian had a sudden realisation that this was Auril’s death throe: she was bringing everyone into her cold embrace to finish them before she herself was obliterated. She was entirely vulnerable, but like Morgan, she did not care. “We have her!” he cried as his spear hurtled into her once again. Despite Auril’s vulnerability, he feared a fourth form—and an explosion on the crystal’s destruction—so he withdrew and healed, getting behind a rocky outcrop.
Thanks to the her cold embrace, Jankx was standing right on top of Auril. Up until now he had stayed at range, using his crossbow to full advantage. But at heart he was a rogue: a first-story man, lockpick, thief, and lightfinger. A man who worked best with his hands in motion. With a hungry smile he popped his bracelet to slide the twin-bladed dagger into his waiting palm. It felt good. It felt right. It felt like time to finish this.
Jankx stepped forward and penetrated the heart of the Frozen Queen with a single perfect strike. In latter days he could not explain how he had found a path through the impenetrable diamond, but find a path he did.
The frozen tear containing Auril’s divine spark flared with azure flame and her crystalline form burst into millions of pieces, blasting everyone to the ground, leaving nothing behind but a gentle, beautiful snowfall.
Auril was gone.
The Frostmaiden was vanquished.
All that remained was cleaning up Veneranda. Arlington was teetering atop his moose which had reared back at Auril’s demise. He flung his boar spear at the brain and it two-stepped across the arena and calmly swept into the casing. Arlington reined his moose and followed up with his own two-step, firing two sharp bolts that shattered the casing of the floating jar. The brain slopped to the ground causing the armour to also collapse inert to the ice.
It was over. The blizzard around the arena had dropped with Auril, and all that remained were six exhausted, frozen, victorious adventurers.
Morgan finally slumped, driving Iceblink into the snow. She dropped her shield and rested her weary bones on her faithful weapon. A grin swept over her face as everyone collapsed with relief, shock, and a growing sense of triumph.
And there was something else: it was no longer bond-numbingly cold. The weather was finally changing.
“And now we can use the Obelisk,” Tarquin quipped, exhausted. “Godkillers.”
Sessions played: March 18, 25, April 2, 2024