With a long-lost relative of Zhakar's accompanying the remaining Companions on their quest to the Plains of Leng, and the lost city ruled by Kharzoug, there was no telling what awaited them. The road was long, and full of dangers... many of which would take far stranger forms than any of them expected.
Those who need to catch up on the adventure thus far should check the archive:
- Chapter 30:
The Fall of Karzoug
All caught up? Lovely! Because we rejoin the Companions on their journey deep into the northern mountains...
Strange Insights, and Long-Lost Kin
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| So you're saying that you just black out? Interesting. |
The Companions boarded the same river raft that had taken them north to Turtleback Ferry in the past, and from there they traversed the mountains past the Black Arrows' stronghold, seeking the bend in the river that Zordlan had found in reference to the ancient maps left by the Scribbler. It was a journey of several months, though, and during that time the Companions tried to get to know their newest friend.
Ivory's story was as simple as it was bizarre to those who lived their lives only on the material plane. Born and raised in the realms celestial, she had spent much of her life in the orbit of the Empyreal Lord Arshea, whose blood she shared. Ivory had borne dozens of children, shared many loves, and grown her natural gifts in sorcery, as well as devoting herself to the druidic arts. She'd come to the material plane a little over two decades ago on her search for Zhakar, but everywhere she went to find him, it seemed he'd just left. And with strange tales bobbing in his wake of both his deeds, as well as those of the other Companions.
While Zhakar was suspicious of Ivory's convenient arrival, as the days fell behind them, he found that she understood things he hadn't been able to talk to anyone else about. Things that only those with the blood of celestials running through their veins could truly know. But as they spoke, her understanding began to give way to confusion when he spoke about some of the strange things he experienced. Things that were not connected to their shared heritage.
Zhakar told Ivory of the black outs he sometimes experienced. About how he felt like his mind was being torn in different directions. About how the Light, whatever it was that had been growing inside of him, drove him to take many of the actions he did. He had spoken the words of the crusader's oath as a young squire, that was true enough, but it wasn't a sense of duty that made him take the actions he had. He was compelled, more by what he was, instead of choosing to fight or flee. And while he often abandoned himself to this riptide of righteousness, he had noticed it growing stronger. It frightened him, though he tried not to show it.
Days passed as the river went by, and Ivory contemplated. She whispered to the winds, and looked at as well as into her nephew with the aid of many spells she had brought from the celestial realms. She spoke with Mirelinda, and consulted her Harrow deck, the two of them trying to find out just what was happening. Though there was no telling for sure, not right then, Ivory developed a theory. That Zhakar, whether due to the prayers of his mother, the mixing of his bloodlines, or some other factor, was on the path to spiritual apotheosis. That whatever the Light was, it had been planted inside him from the moment he was conceived, and as he fed it the Light was becoming something greater. It was growing into him, and merging with him, every time he opened himself further to it.
She couldn't say with certainty what he would become, or if he would reach that exaltation in this life or the next, but it was reaching the point of no return. Zhakar nodded, but said nothing then. Like many crusaders who had come before him, he made peace with the fact that he would do what was right, even if it unmade him. For if he did nothing, and did not bring what power he'd been blessed with to bear, then the Runelords would spread their darkness across the world once more.
The Mountain's Hunger
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| Oh that's not good... not good at all. |
As the Companions trekked into the mountains, they began to notice something was wrong. The snow fell thicker than it should for the time of year it was, and the carpet was unbroken by any steps. No deer tracks, no trenches where wolf packs had cut through, and there was not a single carrion bird in the sky. The air felt thick, and tasted wrong... a twinge of copper, and a tension like building thunder, though there wasn't a cloud to be seen.
As they began to climb into the mountain proper, though, the Companions found themselves possessed of an unnatural hunger that refused to be sated... and they found their rations spoiling at an accelerated rate. Even Ivory's attempts to summon a bounty for the others quickly withered, requiring them to eat as quickly as they could before the enchanted food went to rot and muck. Thok and Chikara went hunting, hoping to catch a reindeer or similar beast, but what they found was an elk that had been... desecrated. It's pieces were hung in a tree, the head placed on a spike, and claws had messily torn open the guts. The top of the skull had been turned into a plate, holding the beast's heart. A heart that, unlike the rest of the animal, was still warm... as if it had just died.
After a brief battle with his gorge, Thok and Chikara left to report their grisly findings. After Mirelinda consulted her harrow deck, and Ivory reached out to what spirits she could, they came to the same conclusion. The Companions had entered the territory of a Wendigo; an evil creature spawned by winter starvation, and cannibalism.
The Beast Strikes
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| Oh this won't end well for you. |
As the Companions traveled along the ridge lines, the snow that had dogged them the whole way became a storm. Gale winds that made it difficult to fly pounded against them, threatening to tear them off the trail and plunge them over the cliff. The storm howled, shrieking something that was almost words as they tried to see through the dense flurries. Finally they came to a ramshackle cabin built at the edge of a drop, its door banging in the wind. Holding his flametongue aloft so the others could follow him, Zhakar led the way out of the wind and snow, charging into the shelter. Once they were inside, Zhakar, Chikara, and Thok cleared the cabin, room by room in search of threats. When they found nothing, Ivory and Mirelinda slammed the shutters, holding them closed.
The cabin was a haven, but not a safe one. It was located atop a mining shaft, and something had clearly gone wrong there. Bloodstains marred several rooms, and gnawed bones were scattered over the floors. Moaning that was not the wind came from several corners, and there was a presence there... something the Companions caught a glimpse of from the corner of their eyes before it was gone again. Something with ragged stumps where its feet should be.
After weeks of hunger, weeks of this creature being a looming presence rather than a clear and present enemy, Zhakar threw caution to the winds. Pounding across the boards, the Light blazing from his eyes, he chased the figure into what looked to have been the head miner's bedroom. Beyond the window, obscured in the blowing snow, was a vague outline; a looming shadow who stood near a dead, twisted tree. Zhakar raised his left hand, and blasted a spear of pure light at the figure.
Then all hell broke loose.
The transparent figure of a ghostly dwarf, his mouth stretched cavernously open, emerged from the ground and swiped his claws at Zhakar. They crackled off the shield of force, and the ghost let out a strangled roar. Beyond the window, the tree shuddered, hauling itself from the soil with a groaning scream, and barreling into the cabin. It hammered through the wall, smashing it down, bowling Zhakar over as boards splintered. The Wendigo floated closer, unaffected by the dire storm it had conjured.
Chikara, seeing Zhakar in danger, charged in, ax swinging. It bit deeply into the twisted wood of the bizarre tree, which was filled with necromantic energy. Thok, upon rounding the corner, loosed an arrow into the thing's heartwood, the shaft quivering deep. Mirelinda spoke the rapid incantation of a haste spell, and Ivory sent forth talons of magic to destroy the unnatural abominations.
The battle raged then. Zhakar let forth the Light, and it blasted through the unholy creatures, weakening them while healing his allies. Thok rushed in alongside Chikara, cutting at the tree with his spear as the two of them brought it to a crashing demise. The ghost retreated into the darkness, and the Wendigo bayed; the sound bloodcurdling. It snatched Zhakar, pulling him out into the darkness. They fought in the air, struggling, straining, but when the Wendigo tore through space, it failed to drag Zhakar with him.
The Night is Dark, and Full of Terrors
More awaited the Companions, for the initial assault had merely been a test of their skills. A probing of their defenses. The enemy had more for them, and it would prove disastrous.
As the Companions regrouped atop the ridge outside the half-destroyed cabin, a tremor went through the ground. Snow fell from the heights, and cracks formed below on the frozen over lake near the cliff's foot. The rumbling of a great, tunneling beast didn't stop, and as the Companions looked at each other Ivory was the one who spoke.
"It's a frost worm. And if it continues burrowing like that, it could bring down the cliff."
Seeing the trap, but unable to do anything about it, the Companions rushed to confront the new threat. Zhakar flew down toward the churning ice, and the others descended with Ivory upon her cloud. When the others were in position, Zhakar landed, drawing the immediate attention of the creature.
 |
| Oh, I'm gonna feel that one tomorrow. |
The worm took the bait, lashing out and hammering at Zhakar. A brute animal, the frost worm took no notice of his holy aura, nor of most of the powers he wielded. Fortunately, as the creature reared back away from the pain of the flametongue in Zhakar's hand, it left an opening for Chikara. The half-orc howled loud enough to challenge the winds, running heedlessly onto the ice to hack at the thing. Thok was right behind her.
Unfortunately, that left Mirelinda and Ivory undefended.
The Wendigo appeared from nowhere, sinking its teeth and claws into Ivory the way a starving wolf would snap up a rabbit. Wounded from the earlier fight, she screamed, trying to fight free. Mirelinda sent arcane energy flying from her fingers, and Zhakar charged the monster, drawing the glimmering pick from his belt before striking home. Though the Wendigo melted away, it's cracked skull and dire spirit rent asunder, Ivory lay broken and bloody on the snow. The frost worm met its end soon after, and the stillness on the shore of the broken lake was a profound, sorrowful thing.
Zhakar bent, and picked up Ivory's body. She'd been with them such a short time, but he knew there were ways bring one back, should they wish to return. And if the Companions needed anyone at their sides, surely she was the one.
Next Time on Table Talk!
The Companions managed to slay the Wendigo, but what awaits them next? Will Ivory return to them, or must they go on without her? Find out on the next installment of
Table Talk!
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