Blood on the Moon, A Journey of Discovery Options

[haute ecole rider]

Trey, trey, trey --

You had me rolling throughout the whole encounter with Duke Dread! I was laughing so hard (at Athlain's expense) that the cats got upset with me for interrupting their post-prandial naps. This was a fine piece of high comedy, and I quite enjoyed it. Nothing like a bit of embarrassment to keep one humble.

I kept laughing through his ruminations of Athynae's reaction to the news of his 'challenge' of the good Duke. I think he nailed 'em spot on! Yup, I'd say he likely knows the girl better than he realizes!

Then to close the chapter with such a nice compliment to my own Julian was just icing on the cake. Julian is mildly embarrassed, and both of us say thank you!

[D.Foxy]

to Trey, long my friend over the net
For his sparkling and teasingly witty prose -
When first I read you, I knew not yet
How near my heart your words would hold close!
Yet day followeth day and from post after post
My head and heart have been captured by those
Who live in your words and our cheering hearts
Through the truths they reveal in playing their parts!
There are heroes surrounding the hero and his bumbling quest
And a shining redhead with whom we all are blest
There are villians dark, drawn in prose so stark
all writer wanna-bees should do well to mark
Cliffhangers, and plot twists in a style so brisk
you shouldn't blink, or an entire plotline goes "whist!"
across your eyes as you think you've understood
...only to find that in the entire plot's dark wood,
Our writer, the God of his universe of fiction
has somehow written his way out of our predictions
slipped through the trees while you stumble on the roots
not only lost you, but blazed a new trail, to boot!
And to top it all, he knows how to call
on a humor so dry and yet so flourishing
that our reading journey's set alive and rollicking
On a trail that sings, canters and gallops
while we follow Trey, whom will the unholy wallop
with his trusty Mace, backed up by a brace
(or trey - hey hey!) of sidekicks who shall not
ever betray the cardinal rule of a story -
"keep the reader's interest, or writer, you'll be sorry!"
Come on, my friend, unleash your inner fiend
and roar on through the story, thus, thus do we implore ye
For we cannot get enough of the delightful Trey
(And, and Athynae! Kill me not for forgetting - I say thee nay!)

[minque]

Just like our sweet Vet I also gave a big fat laugh when reading about Athlain's encounter with the Duke! That part was just hilarious, I could actually HEAR them both in my head! My my...this time you really have done it Treydoggie....wonderful update!

It's getting a bit complicated now....all those fine misunderstandings...hehe I think Baria and Renie will have to stand trial for meddling in this matters! I can very well imagine how THAT will turn out!

[Athynae]

I am anxiously awaiting your explanation as to why you chose to meddle in this situation Mother. I know that, according to Aunt Baria, you feel as if it is your "duty" to do so but in this case maybe it has gone a bit far. I am not as angry as I was about the whole thing but I am still interested in what you have to say, not only about this but the rest of it as well.

I am happy to see that you have returned from your business trip safely and am looking forward to hearing more from you, and Serene.

A

[mALX]

This note is copied and pasted on everyone whose story I am having to neglect for a few days - mainly because my eyes are burning too badly to keep looking at the screen :


"I'll be back!" (spoken in an Arnold voice). I haven't had time to read this week - way too much going on, my week has been hectic as H !! When I have gotten any free time my eyes and mind were burned out, lol. I'll be back to read this when I get a bit of a break in the rat-race pace around here. (sorry about that )

This post has been edited by mALX: Jun 13 2011, 04:58 AM

[Grits]

Throughout the rain-swept voyage from Solstheim, my mind had been consumed with saving Athynae from an unwanted marriage. If I lost my life in the process… well, that was the part I had not quite worked out yet.

How romantic! It’s this kind of thinking that makes me want to give Athlain both a hug and a smack on the head. The resolution of the duel made me laugh and cringe for Athlain throughout.

I love that even as he returns to duty and more immediate danger, Athlain is still capable of imagining himself as the perfectly cooked and dramatically presented centerpiece of a Tsaesci feast.

[mALX]

I gaped like a beached slaughterfish

ROFL !!!

Even in my mind, I could hear my voice squeak on the last word.

I heard that squeak in my own mind reading Athlain's thoughts - before I read this line! This caught me by surprise and had me rolling!

Akavir was looking better all the time. Perhaps the Tsaesci would eat me

ROFL !!! Poor Athlain, lol.

The words “what could possibly go wrong” came to my mind, but I wisely left them unspoken.

SPEW !!!

Three or four years should be sufficient.

Oh, I see trouble with that plan! ROFL !!!

I am so glad you have come back to us !!! I have missed the hilarious workings of Athlain's mind so much!! Awesome Write !!!

This post has been edited by mALX: Jun 15 2011, 04:59 PM

[SubRosa]

As my father was fond of saying- “One thing at a time.”
Is it just me, or does "my father" seem almost fond, as opposed to the menacing dark lord "Father" we all knew from the beginning of Athlain's tale? Once again, we can see that Athlain's experiences have changed him, and how he feels toward the man whose shadow has been cast across him his entire life.

Once again, you played the "he said/she said" out to amusement. The Duke of New York Dren certainly had his entertainment quota filled for the week from that! One cannot help but to feel sorry for poor Athlain. But that is what you get for jumping to conclusions. Or in this case, for taking a red-head's jumping to conclusions at face value.

What if I didn’t want to get married?
Well then, maybe you shouldn't have been telling people that you already were?

“what could possibly go wrong”
And with those fateful words, we are ready for the next phase of the bloody moon!

[minque]

I am anxiously awaiting your explanation as to why you chose to meddle in this situation Mother. I know that, according to Aunt Baria, you feel as if it is your "duty" to do so but in this case maybe it has gone a bit far. I am not as angry as I was about the whole thing but I am still interested in what you have to say, not only about this but the rest of it as well.

I am happy to see that you have returned from your business trip safely and am looking forward to hearing more from you, and Serene.

A

Ahh dearest Thyna! It's a mother's privilege to meddle, right? Besides, all I want is that you will be happy, and get yourself a good life. then again I wouldn't mind if my daughter married herself into a fine family like the family of the man who controlled my own destiny and turned out to be the saviour of us all!

But be patient my dear, I have something to show you!

S

[treydog]

@Black Hand- I am afraid those “faint smiles” may be something Athlain will have to live with for a long time to come....

@Olen- I think that desire for more “creative solutions” is part of Athlain’s problems. He recognizes that there CAN be different answers- he just seems to manage to find the wrong “different answers each time. And the fact that, yes, it WAS Athynae who made the mistake will simply become one more thing that is Athlain’s fault… It just works out that way.

@Khajiit_Thief01- Your comments tell me that I managed to convey everything I hoped to in that installment. Thank you so much for the kind words.

@haute- With Julian exiting my story in an even more economical fashion than she entered, I find that I must work hard to maintain the dramatic tension. Or resort to a bit of humor instead. My apologies to the Felidae; perhaps a bit of salmon would not go amiss? To say Julian had an impact on Athlain would be rather like noting that “water is wet.” I am more pleased than I can say that the humor and the compliment pleased you both.

@D.Foxy-

To please a reader so witty, ribald, and wry
Is the fondest hope of those
Who the scribe’s trade do ply
Of rhymes I have few,
Bowing to better judgment
I leave them to you
Rather than attempting to equal your poetry’s measure
I bow once more in humility
And joy that my words have given pleasure

@minque- Again, it is so wonderful to have you reading (and writing) once more. Without Serene, we would not have Athynae. And Athlain (and the world) would be much poorer in such circumstances. The saving grace for Baria and Serene is that their motives are pure and unselfish. They love their children and hope to spare them some of the more painful episodes life can offer.

@Grits- Interesting you should say that- your reaction to Athlain’s misguided romanticism seems to be one I myself have provoked once or twice. Your laughter pleases me immensely, for Jerric’s Story shows your own flair for wonderful humor. Finally- he still seems to entertain the idea that “running away from it” will solve his problems- even though he recognizes that has mostly gotten him into more trouble.

@SubRosa- Yes, experience has definitely showed Athlain that perhaps the “Old Man” knows a thing or two…. The dialogue with the Duke was great fun to write, as he strung things out as long as possible (rather like me, I am afraid). As to marriage, Athlain will know what he wants just as soon as Athynae tells him…

@mALX- Welcome back! You highlighted- as usual- many of my own favorite lines. It hard to know if I am hitting the mark, having lived with Athlain for so long. Your words confirm that I have succeeded. And I do not imagine a certain red-haired someone allowing Athlain to “disappear” for 3 or 4 years. Likely not even 3 or 4 weeks… we shall see- but not yet.

----------------------------------------------------------

The snows of Solstheim did not so much melt as become soft during the day, only to refreeze to a brittle crust at night. Even so, I made good progress to the north and east, following the course of the Iggnir. As I approached the hill topped by Thirsk, I remembered my first view of the mead hall- and the one who had accompanied me. I could not look at that welcoming place without thinking of Athynae. Well- in all honesty- I could not take two steps in any direction without thinking of her. But that would just remain my little secret.

Before going inside, I stopped to see Brynjolfr, who grinned at me and then shook his head when he saw that I was alone.

“Ye be a fine lad and all, but I do fret meself as to whether ye possess the brains of a snow-worm. Letting the lass sit at home, whilst ye wander from hither to yon.”

He paused and lifted a bushy eyebrow before continuing, “She is at home, I trust? Not even ye would be sa daft as ta set her loose to traipse about the world all alone?”

I took no offense at his words; although I did wonder how the burly smith would fare if he tried to stop Athynae from “traipsing about all alone.” I answered his smile with one of my own and told him:

“As it happens, she is guesting with my family. I am sure she and my mother are finding much to discuss.”

The Nord nodded wisely and offered the observation: “Aye, ‘tis well then. Leave it ta the lass and yer momma ta plan the wedding, while ye stay as far as far can be awa’ from all that. Ye may not be quite as addled as I believed.”

My heart sank at his words, but he was just warming to the subject, “Now meself, I kept the lassies well clear of me own dear mam. I be not the sort ta wish fer bein’ tied down- but that is the very center of a momma, lookin’ ta see her boy settled. Ta her way a thinkin’, if she canna keep him ta home any longer, a spirited lassie will do the trick.”

He shook his head lugubriously, “But worse than a’ that was me sisters. They loved nothing better than ta tell tales out of school. It be terrible hard fer a fella to keep any little bit o’ mystery about hisself, when his sisters start in on what all he mighta’ done or said when he was but a sprig.”

His expression became cheerful once more as he picked up his hammer and turned to the forge, adding over a mountainous shoulder:

“But ye needn’t fret about any a that, ta be sure. Ye ha’ nae sisters, do ye? And nae doubt yer lassie wouldna stoop ta idle gossip anyway.”

Whistling tunefully, he started working with a piece of iron, leaving me to my own thoughts. The coals of the forge fire conjured an image of lovely red flowers, complete with barbed thorns- or perhaps of three red heads, huddled together on Vvardenfell, creating enough heat to singe my cheeks as far away as Solstheim.

Inside the mead hall itself, I was met with more good-natured chafing, including a rendition of “Athlain the Brave,” complete with new verses. Svenja mentioned the arrival of Thormoor Gray-Wave, adding, “He is still asleep. In fact, he has only stirred from his room for a few minutes at a time since he got here. I will say he is a peaceful sort of guest, not like some I could name.”

She grinned at me and continued, “You know, the ones who slam doors and shout ‘Fine’ at one another.”

The only resident of Thirsk who did not seem to share the light-hearted mood was Skjoldr. The chieftain sat his throne quietly, not participating in any of the usual revelry. When I went to him to offer my greetings, he responded with a distracted air and then said,

“My apologies, Athlain. My spirit has been troubled the last few days, and I know not why. Yet something misgives me, and I can find no comfort. Sit with me a while; tell me of your travels; and perhaps my gloom will lift.”

Although I did as he asked, the melancholy did not leave him, even when I recounted my misadventures in Ebonheart. Finally, he thanked me gravely and gave me leave to seek my bed. Something of his foreboding communicated itself to me, for sleep was long in arriving, and was troubled by dark dreams. Yet, when morning came, the folk of that place sent me on my way with a hearty breakfast and warm wishes for a safe journey. Almost, I tarried for another day. And I still wonder how things might have turned out if I had given in to that impulse.

As it was, I continued north to the Skaal village, where I hoped to see the end of Tharsten’s testing and perhaps to finally get some answers regarding the Captain. I had been somewhat concerned that the long delay might have set back my cause, but Korst Wind-Eye was quite pleased to see me. He was even more pleased to hear that I had concluded my business with the East Empire Company, especially when I described Carnius’ attempt to get the Skaal blamed for the attack on the mine.

However, when I went to Tharsten Heart-Fang, he just looked at me from under lowered brows for a time and then abruptly said,

“I must give thought to the next test for ye. When ye were absent for so long a time, I had rather hoped ye were perhaps gone and would not trouble me further. Ye were away for a few weeks- begone for a few days more and I will send for ye.”

I gritted my teeth and accepted the dismissal; I could not let my pique at his rudeness stand in the way of my mission. But I vowed that there would come a time when I would give the Skaal chieftain a lesson in courtesy. Meanwhile, I decided to once more share my supplies with Lassnr in exchange for his hospitality.

Two days passed in relative quiet, and then there was a stir as a hunter arrived from the south. He was obviously agitated and rushed straight to the Great Hall. A few minutes later, one of the Honor Guards came out to summon Korst Wind-Eye. After about a half-hour, the shaman reappeared and left the village, stopping only long enough to pick up his pack and his staff. No one who knew anything was willing to talk to me, but the Skaal gathered in small groups and stared off to the south. Finally, just as I was about go after the shaman on my own, an Honor Guard came to me and said,

“Tharsten Heart-Fang would have words wi’ ye, outlander.”

When I entered the Hall, the grizzled Nord watched my approach in silence and remained mute for some time once I had reached his throne. At last, he stirred himself and told me grudgingly:

“Ye have done well, showing the Skaal that ye have loyalty and wisdom. I had not expected it of such as ye. But now, there is one thing more I would test. Ye must prove that ye have the strength of a true warrior. Word has come of a strange vision at Lake Fjalding. What it portends, no man can know. Korst Wind-Eye has gone before, to learn what he may. Find him there, on the northern shore and he will tell ye what must be done.”

He fell back into a brooding silence and so I nodded and took my leave.

This post has been edited by treydog: Jun 17 2011, 07:52 PM

[mALX]

All the teasing Athlain took had me rolling, the people of Thirsk have long memories it seems - but the funniest of all was the meeting with Brynjolfr, I could have quoted it in its entirety! I seem to remember you describing him once as having hands like a hammer or something like that. I was easily able to picture him in my mind, your renditions of his speech patterns and actions as he spoke had me in hysterics and left a distinct image of the scene !!!

A bit of a mystery coming, it seems. GAAAAH !!! Awesome Chapter !!!

[haute ecole rider]

“But ye needn’t fret about any a that, ta be sure. Ye ha’ nae sisters, do ye? And nae doubt yer lassie wouldna stoop ta idle gossip anyway.”

Whistling tunefully, he started working with a piece of iron, leaving me to my own thoughts. The coals of the forge fire conjured an image of lovely red flowers, complete with barbed thorns- or perhaps of three red heads, huddled together on Vvardenfell, creating enough heat to singe my cheeks as far away as Solstheim.

This had me laughing out loud. Again. This time I managed to keep it just above a snicker, so the kitties were not disturbed from their post-prandial naps. I loved how you echoed the situation with Athlain's sisters in the story Brynjolfr told our hero. A not so subtle reminder of the dangers of leaving his beloved with those demonesses he is unlucky enough to call his sisters.

[D.Foxy]

That forge fire...I SAW what was coming next, the simile of the coals to the redheads, and STILL I chuckled when I read it!

Everybody, that is the true mark of the writer. He who can play with your emotions like a violinist with his violin, even when you know exactly which note he's going to play next.

[Grits]

Brynjolfr’s lugubrious reminiscences had me smiling. (Love that word!) I could just picture him slowly shaking his shovel-sized head.

Inside the mead hall itself, I was met with more good-natured chafing, including a rendition of “Athlain the Brave,” complete with new verses.

How nice that his friends have been thinking of him while he was away! For all the comforts a mead hall offers, it seems Athlain cannot escape his uncomfortable thoughts there.

I gritted my teeth and accepted the dismissal; I could not let my pique at his rudeness stand in the way of my mission. But I vowed that there would come a time when I would give the Skaal chieftain a lesson in courtesy.

How very Athlain. He has grown and changed so much, but he still occasionally brings me right back to that pre-dawn wait for the silt strider to Balmora.



(I forgot to mention: on your Kindle?! )


This post has been edited by Grits: Jun 18 2011, 04:09 PM

[Black Hand]

Oh dear, the lake has a disturbance of some sort? I know what that means...legs of nords shall be weilded and giant axes shall speak...

[Olen]

I like how you've developed Thrisk and then eveytime he returns his relationship with the place has changed. The ribbing was great, Brynjolfr had me laughing, and the reappearance of 'Athlain the Brave' made me smile. He's told them about his meeting with the Duke too now...

Then the Skaal. Welcoming lot their leaders, must have been taking lessons from the Ashlanders . I look forward to seeing what Athlain does next.

[SubRosa]

I see Athlain had a fine time at the mead hall. Not so great at the Skaal village Now it is off to Lake Fjalding? I wonder if that Grendel has been up to no good..?

[treydog]

@mALX- I count on my readers to tell me if I am “getting it right.” And, when it comes to creating memorable characters, I especially look to you. The Nords at Thirsk have become extended family for Athlain- a fact which will have unforeseen consequences. And Brynjolfr insisted on having a bigger role than he is given in the vanilla game- to my delight.

@haute- I am so pleased that the scene made you laugh- and that the kitties were not disturbed this time…. And speaking of unforeseen consequences- yes, leaving Athynae at home- and NOT writing or stopping by. Bad Idea ™

@D.Foxy- My thanks for your wonderful praise.

@Grits- Yep. That is one of those words that I imagine I would over-use if I could. And the flashback to his early days was well-spotted. Yep- I am slowly working my way through getting MANY of the stories onto the Kindle. And also reading and keeping highlights and notes.

@Black Hand- “Every time I think I have gotten out of these icy caves- they keep pulling me back in.”

@Olen- I have been taking copious notes from our wonderful writers who have made the game world come alive. With Thirsk, I have been attempting to emulate their brilliant world-building. Yes- the contrast between Thirsk and the village Skaal is an interesting one- and I decided to explore it a bit.

@SubRosa- Yes, Heorot has been attacked. For the feline aficionados among us, here is a poem that might prove diverting…. Grendel's Dog, by Beocat


--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Long before I reached the lake and the shaman, I beheld a peculiar sight. What appeared to be a column of fire rose directly from the surface of Lake Fjalding. It seemed to reach almost to clouds in the grey sky, painting their underside orange and red. Whatever else this omen portended, I was certain it was related to the task Tharsten had set for me, the “Test of Strength.”

Soon after reaching the lake shore, I found Korst, looking toward the fiery spectacle with a troubled gaze. He glanced at me with an unreadable expression and then turned back to the eldritch fire as he spoke.

“Ah, you have arrived. These are strange times, Athlain. I know not what magic is being worked to cause this phenomenon, but you are here to test your strength. Tharsten Heart-Fang has decided to use this disturbance as a means of determining whether you have the stamina required of a Skaal warrior.”

His voice dropped to a murmur, almost as if he were reciting a fragment from somewhere, “Fire out of the water, a flame upon the ice….”

He shook himself and resumed in a normal tone, although one laced with doubt:

“Heart-Fang believes that a Draugr Lord who dwells beneath the lake is the source, but I am not certain. I fear this may be a sign of the Bloodmoon Prophecy.”

I felt a chill at his words that had nothing to do with the temperature. I had absorbed my father’s attitude toward prophecy at an early age, and had seen nothing since to cause me to change my mind. It was yet another way in which the gods- and the Daedra- chose to toy with mortals. Nevertheless, curiosity overcame queasiness and I asked what he meant.

“I pray to the All-Maker that I am wrong. But- it is an ancient Nordic prophecy, one I hope is naught but a myth. It tells of a time when Masser will hide his face, Secunda will turn blood red, and wolves that walk like men will roam the land. The prophecy tells of signs that will precede the Bloodmoon, but they are not easy to interpret, even for me.”

He made a warding gesture and added, “We will speak of this another time. For now, Heart-Fang has decided that it is a sign that you must prove your strength, your ability to survive harsh conditions, and to fight against dangerous foes. Beneath the lake there are a number of caves. In one of them, you will find Aeslip, a Draugr Lord. Tharsten believes that Aeslip has used his magic to create this uncanny fire.”

Over the course of my adventures, I had learned that one of the greatest weapons is knowledge, so I asked Korst to tell me what he could of this ”Draugr Lord.”

“From what I have read in the histories, he was once a powerful mage, one who strayed into necromancy. Somehow, his meddling with this dark magic caused him to become a draugr himself. However, he still retains much of his tremendous power. You are to confront this creature and perhaps put an end to this madness. But- be cautious, Athlain. Something about this seems odd to me.”

He placed a comforting hand on my shoulder and said, “Tharsten has decreed that you must do this thing alone, else I would go with you. For now, perhaps you could go to the mead hall and see if the hunters there know anything more. Afterwards, you must prove your strength.”

He returned to his contemplation of the fiery column, and I turned to the south

When I neared the mead hall, my uneasiness grew. I could not hear the sound of Brynjolfr’s hammer ringing upon his anvil, nor was there any smell of smoke from the wood fire that burned constantly in the center of the hall. Dread weighted my steps and was not relieved when I at last caught a glimpse of Thirsk.

One door was barely hanging from a single hinge; the other was smashed to splinters. The snow before the hall held strange tracks and massive splashes of blood. Something terrible had happened here and I wished desperately that I could turn away from it. But- I wore the uniform of an officer of the Legion, with all that it meant. Beyond that, the people of this place had taken me in, befriended me, become as dear to me as family. Whatever had passed, I had to know. And once I knew, I would do whatever must be done. Julian’s words came to me then, slightly altered:

Take care of your people and honor your dead.

Yes.

With that thought, I shouldered my way through the ruined doors and into the mead hall. The interior was a shambles- tables and benches overturned and broken, bodies and parts of bodies littered the floor, and blood was splashed everywhere. So great was the destruction that even some of the columns that supported the high ceiling were sundered and lay across the darkened fire pit. The only illumination was provided by a couple of guttering torches, and I was just as glad that I could not see more clearly.

At the far end of the hall, where Skjoldr’s throne had been, a figure moved in the gloom. I drew Athynae’s Gift and raised my shield, preparing to face whatever creature had wrought such destruction. Instead, what came to me from the darkness was the melodic voice of Svenja Snow-Song, hoarse with emotion, but still filled with welcome and relief.

“Athlain? Ah, it is you, then. I fear I cannot offer you the hospitality of Thirsk on this day.”

As she stepped into the light, I saw that she gripped a bow loosely in one hand, and that her face appeared to be made of carved bone. As she stared at me, her casual demeanor vanished, and she dropped the bow and buried her head in her hands, shoulders shaking with wracking sobs. I could deal with the destruction of Thirsk more easily than the tears of this Skaal warrior, but Svenja had been a friend to Athynae- and to me. So I went to her and awkwardly put my arms around her, holding her until the crying eased.

Composing herself, she stepped away from me and said with a wry smile, “It is just as well your Athynae is not here. She might get the wrong idea, seeing another woman in your arms.”

I understood Svenja’s need to lighten the mood and made a weak attempt to answer in kind. “Well, yes. Although I think you would probably be safe enough. I might not fare so well.”

When she seemed ready to speak, I asked her what had passed. She shuddered at the memory and then began the tale. In a halting voice, she told me:

“Brynjolfr had gone down the coast to pick up a shipment of metal for his forge, and some of the others were off hunting. It was night and….” She stopped for a moment to steady herself and began once more.

“He--- came to the mead hall and killed everyone that he could. I was upstairs, talking with Berditte Jestaal, when I heard the noise as the beast burst through the doors. I watched from the gallery as the clan tried to withstand the onslaught. They fought bravely, but… they were no match for the creature’s fury.”

She gestured to the bow she had dropped and to silver arrows driven into the walls and floor.

“I took my bow from the wall and rained arrows upon him from the stairs and at last drove him off. But he will return.”

Svenja seemed to lose the thread of her story as her eyes looked into the past and she muttered,

“We were singing and drinking mead, enjoying the warmth of the fire- and then- he struck. Never have I seen so savage a beast. Almost, I could think that the monster that did this was the Udyrfrykte. But how could that be?”

Although heartened by the news that the smith and some others might have survived by virtue of being away, I was still devastated by the deaths of so many of the Skaal- their leader among them. But Svenja’s speculation about the identity of the murderous creature startled me. I had thought I could put a name to the monster; perhaps the same as those who had attacked the fort. But it seemed I was mistaken. The word she had used was unknown to me- perhaps it was simply a Nordic term for “werewolf.” But when I asked, she shook her head.

“No. Though they are terrible foes, this is a different creature, far worse in many ways. It is called the Udyrfrykte. According to our legends, it is a remorseless, undying monster with a taste for human flesh. But the sagas tell that he was sealed within his lair centuries ago. The entry is on the shore of Lake Fjalding, but it is covered with ice. So how could he escape? And why now?”

She paused and stared toward the sundered doors of the hall, which faced the lake. “Wait though. There is that strange fire upon the surface of Lake Fjalding. Surely you have seen it? I know not what sorcery caused that ill-omened flame, but it must have melted the ice. If that is true, the Udyrfrykte is free once more. Athlain, you must stop the creature. You are the only one who can.”

This post has been edited by treydog: Jun 28 2011, 02:29 AM

[haute ecole rider]

And so begins the saga of the brave Beowulf Beocat. No, wait. Wrong saga. Or is it?

Though I have no clue what happens in the game, I'm enjoying this latest mystery facing Athlain. And after encountering the Udyrfrykte Matron near Dive Rock, I have an idea of what's ahead for our dauntless hero.

I especially liked this musing of his:

But- I wore the uniform of an officer of the Legion, with all that it meant.

QFT! Julian is nodding her head approvingly at this point. And here lies the core principle that drives all of Athlain's decisions. The sense of responsibility is not going away anytime soon, and many folks will be grateful for that.

[Black Hand]

Dare the Hero endure the depths of the despair of the Dark?

What level of seven hells,
does dead dreams dwell?