[Horde] Chapter Five: Session Eighty-Seven
Appearing Characters: Arthak Saurfang, Gunnlaug Scaleheart, Huginn, Lantresor, Mordvigbjorn, Munnin, Nyxxa Murkthorn, Q'onzu, Rak'Symma, Ruthless, Seria, Sol'chi, Stoic Velbrand, Thisalee Crow, Thrymjaris, Thura Saurfang, Vethir
December 29th
Nyxxa and Seria, who was disguised as a rat that could fit in a pouch, headed into Hrydshal to get a read on the situation. A heavy rainstorm had started, though it looked as if it would break sometime in the afternoon.
They reached the outermost wall of the city and Nyxxa noted there were warrior vrykul that were keeping watch upon it, though their eyes were primarily focused on the sky. She overheard them simply exchanging comments on the storm, including the fact the storm drakes appeared to be enjoying the weather at least. Seria sniffed at the air to try and find any traces of demonic presence.
It appeared Skovald was a hot topic, and the temperature of the opinions were varied. Some had named him kinslayer and called him an upstart, otherwise argued he was strong and that couldn’t be denied. People bickered that the jarl was not convinced about Skovald, but others said that he was what they needed as the gods no longer listened to them. However, it seemed the praises were said opening, but the criticisms were more quiet and discrete.
Other rumors said that the jarl forbade Skovald and his party from climbing the mountain as they did not offer tribute, but it also seemed the jarl was too fearful to stop him. Either way, when Skovald returned from the mountain, it was evident he had gotten the favor of the dragons, and anyone with eyes could see that. Apparently he was in the company of Fathnyr, the dragon god of the mountain, and supposedly he was being ridden by a rider, perhaps Skovald himself.
Some had found offense in Skovald being accompanied by a war band that was not vrykul, but others found it to be a bold statement of his dominion over outsiders. It appeared the outsiders were not allies, but they were called bringers of change and power, and Skovald himself was believed to wield that power.
As far as the jarl was concerned, apparently Stoic Velbrand was a mighty warrior and a bear of a man as well as a gifted dragon rider, but he no longer rode dragons because he lost his arm during a fight with Skovald’s father. His old dragon still lived, and was ancient, and Stoic still helped to raise younger dragons. Stoic was apparently a man of the gods and a man of Hrydshall, and he saw the dragons as an extension of the health of their city.
Seria had gone to investigate the mystics and she got the distinct scent of sulfur, which implied fel. They went to the back of the longhouse, and they saw some mystics gathered around a fulgurite that had swollen with fel magic. They were discussing the example, as few alive had laid eyes on Fathnyr before, but apparently his color was not of bolts of lightning, but more like the fulgurite. They seemed to believe the patriarch chose Skovald and gave him this power as a gift, but they were also apprehensive of the power.
They agreed to take it back to their own villages, and they went outside and teleported away with a flash of lightning, the fulgurite in hand.
They also heard that storm dragons were returning to the mountain without warning, and several had even ran away from their riders to go to the peak, and had yet to return.
Their information acquired, Nyxxa and Seria returned to the party to decide their next steps as the rain started to slow. Symma had gotten increasingly agitated, while Arthak had gotten murderously quiet as he started to create a poem to offer as an additional gift to the jarl.
Symma opted to try and commune with the spirit of the ancient being that had become the murderous bear they had slain. The spirit of a vrykul appeared before her. He was ancient, his head and face covered in a spectral mane that obscured his entire face. He looked at Symma with an expression of lost despondence, like he had been pulled from a dissociative reverie. He spoke in an ancient dialect of vrykul.
He asked who Symma was, and she replied she was another ancient soul. He asked why she had called him, and she explained that he had fought for a long time, and she wished to know his name so that he could be put to rest properly.
Symma realized it was the name of the sage of the Runewood they were told to go meet, and the spirit asked if that was his name, but then he realized it wasn’t, but it was an important name all the same. He seemed confused and lost, and he asked if he had hoped to protect Vydhar, but he didn’t remember, because all he remembered was rage and grief and pain.
Symma asked if he had anything he wanted to say to Vydhar, and he just simply wanted to ask him if he could be forgiven for forgetting everything. Symma smiled at him sympathetically and nodded. She promised his message would get there.
The druid asked if she could take him with her so he could see the Runewood again, as it was where his heart belonged. Symma put a hand on his skull and she promised he’d get there. The druid asked what her name was, and she gave it in turn.
He promised he’d remember it, and he faded away.
Meanwhile, Thura approached Arthak and asked what he was working on. He explained it was a poem in what he believed was the vrykul style. Thura said she just wanted to check in after the last shrine they were at, and Arthak apologized for his actions.
Thura said it was fine and admitted it was a better guess than anything she would have had, but she wanted to make sure Arthak wasn’t beating himself up too much.
He sighed.
Thura said that she trusted him and they will see things to the end, and what came after, but she didn’t want Arthak to burn his forge to nothing but ashes.
Arthak confirmed and handed the Axe of Cenarius over to her. She was intrigued by the weapon, as it was nothing like anything she had ever seen, and Arthak explained one of the elven gods had crafted it. Thura asked how Jaina got it, and why it was given to Arthak, and he said that it had been wielded by Broxigar. Thura was amazed by the concept, and Arthak further confirmed that the axe was used to take the Dark Titan’s eye.
She touched the edge and it cut her finger. She was amazed how sharp it was, and she said that whoever was destined to wield it was very lucky. Arthak suggested she give it a few swings to see if she liked the weight, and Thura spun it around effortlessly. He face lit up.
She cleaved a small stone in half.
Thura handed it back and thanked Arthak for letting her try it, and Arthak said it was good for her to see if she liked it before he gave it to her. Thura blinked.
Thura asked what he was like, and Arthak said he wasn’t like him at all. Arthak had clearly taken after Varok, but Thura and Brox he believed had a lot in common. He also believed Dranosh would have gotten along with him well, though everyone got along with Dranosh. Thura was amazed by the entire thing, and Arthak confirmed he was well loved.
Arthak reassured her that she had never let anyone down in her life, she too was too stubborn for that. Arthak explained he wanted the Legion to see the son of Broxigar holding the axe, but it was only temporary, and it would be her’s.
Thura asked if, in the meantime, she could hear Arthak’s poem, and he relented to share.
As the storm cleared, the group headed into the city. They were noticed swiftly, and dragon riders began to tail them. Two of the storm drakes flew around and landed on pedestals on either side of the gate. One of the guards demanded to know what business they had, and Arthak proclaimed they came with offerings to see the jarl. The guard asked what reason they had to meet with him, and Arthak said they had business.
One of the guards leaped down to get a closer look and said he needed to be a bit more specific. He asked what was in the chest, and Arthak reiterated it was an offering. The guard looked Arthak up and down, and he noted Huginn and Munnin circled overhead, as well as the mark on Arthak’s hand. He correctly ascertained they had started the trials, and Arthak pointed out that he was trying to honor their traditions by requesting passage to the mountain with an offering.
The guard relented, and he sounded a horn. The gate opened slowly behind him, and he informed the warband that the jarl was at the longhouse at the city’s peak. They would be escorted by warriors, and if their respect faltered, they would be thrown out.
It was a bit of a spectacle as they were brought into the massive city. Dragons were in the streets playing with children, and several young dragons were on roofs watching the outsiders enter. They saw a forge with a larger dragon and a vrykul that appeared to be using the lightning of his companion to heat metals to heat the city.
The group made a display to show off to the people of Hrydshal, and it seemed they made quite the impression on the people as they went through the streets. The lifts were strong enough even for Sol’s vehicle, and they eventually came to the jarl’s hall at the peak of the city. Slumbering outside the building was a massive dragon with black scales that seemed to snake into the inside of the longhouse inside.
The jarl sat upon a not overly ostentatious throne, and he sat with a massive greatsword with a gemstone that resembled a perfectly carved eye of a great dragon, which moved. It appeared to be an actual dragon’s eye that was looking around, and behind him was a massive storm dragon skeleton. He had immaculately braided hair, and a cloak that was draped over his missing arm.
Arthak explained they had slain the great bear and brought its meat to feed his kin, the hide to warm his hearth, and the skull to display on his mantle. He also said that he brought a poem from a king who knew.
And fill my halls with golden plunder
I will carve my legend into this land
But until that day, on drake wings I'll fly
And I will live forever in glory
My legend seen, measured and weighed
A bond that death cannot break
Our legend as bright as a star
Stoic was amazed that they had actually done what they claimed they did, as the bones and meat appeared to be the real deal. However, he observed there was no heart, and he asked what had happened to it.
Sol and Arthak explained it had been given to a friend that had helped take the beast down. Stoic accepted the explanation, and he expressed they had done their research and it was a gift worthy of a jarl. However, he wasn’t the one they needed to impress.
He turned to the slumbering dragon.
The eyes of the dragon opened, and it shifted its wings, one of which appeared to be somewhat damaged. Stoic threw a haunch of meat into the air, and with a precise strike, the dragon seared it with lightning and chomped down on it. The storm drake regarded the group, and then emitted a rumbling sound and settled back down.
Stoic chuckled and invited the group to speak further, as he assumed the matter was about the trials of the gods. Arthak confirmed they were on the path set by their gods to seek the Halls of Valor, and thus they sought Stoic’s leave to scale the mountain and take the test at its peak.
Arthak confirmed, and Stoic surmised his scouts had been keeping an eye on matters. Arthak explained what he knew, but nevertheless, Stoic’s answer remained the same. Arthak respectfully pressed and explained Skovald and his people had torn Yotnar apart and scattered his pieces across the valley so that no one else could take the trials, and it was not coincidence there was turmoil in the wake of Skovald’s success.
Sol added additional details and Stoic said he wanted to refute them and say they had no right to make such requests, but given the circumstances, his heart was telling him that there was no deception in their words.
One of the warriors with the group told Stoic to keep bragging, and Stoic chuckled and said his record did it for him.
Stoic demanded the warband to prove they could master the winds as he had. He offered that Gunnlaug could outfit Ruthless for those without flying mounts, though he could be ornery. However, Symma stepped forward and said it wouldn’t be necessary.
Symma nodded.
Symma walked outside and she entered a meditative trance. As the winds surrounded her, she loosed a bolt of lightning into the sky. The clouds started to swirl overhead, and within five minutes, a storm opened up over the city.
Ruthless picked up his head and Stoic laughed.
Gunnlaug blew a whistle and leaped onto the back of a dragon. As he flew, he whipped bolas into the air that began to glow with vrykul runes, creating rings that were suspended in the air all through the city.
Stoic explained there were twenty four rings and his record was one minute and twenty-seven seconds. Symma had four seconds per ring.
Symma took a deep breath, and she launched herself into the air amidst the pouring rain. She effortlessly passed through eleven of the rings. So far it was a breeze and she was darting through half of the rings. However, a young dragon whelp stumbled into the way and threatened to throw her off course. However, Arthak warned her at the last second and she dodged out of the way.
As Symma zipped into the cliffs, several vrykul-sized barrels spilled over the edge of the wall and threatened to fall into her. Symma thought she spiraled through all of them, but at the last moment she saw one she had missed. However, a spark of magic from Sol moved it out of her path.
Symma approached the final stretch, and all the magic in the area had summoned a localized cyclone with two air elementals that were in a tiff. Everyone was cheering for her, and she was blasting through. With a final burst of magic, she spiraled through the final ring.
The mystic keeping time had clocked it as a half of second faster than Stoic’s time.
The group erupted into cheers and the jarl folded his arms in respect as Symma skidded to a stop, winded. Jarl said that it had taken him seven years to set that record, and the fact that she had beat it in her first try, there seemed to be a reason she was brought there.
He granted the group passage to Thorim’s Peak and he informed them that if they were able to stop Skovald and seize the Aegis, he invited them to return to Hrydshal so that they could feast on the meat of the bear they had brought him. That was the hospitality of the jarl of Hrydshal.
Arthak thanked him, and Stoic gave them a scale from Ruthless and explained that the dragons would recognize it as one of the first brood of Nithogg, and it might give them pause enough for the group to explain their presence. However, he warned that it did not guarantee them safety, as even he himself did not tread upon Thorim’s Peak lightly.
Arthak, however, offered one final warning about the people that Skovald had allied himself with, and he gave a tale of the strength that Gul’dan had offered, and the chain that came with it. He expressed there was much in common between the orcs and vrykul, and he didn’t want to see their history shared.
Stoic promised he would remember the words, and he believed the truth of them would lend credence to Arthak’s blade. He assured him that Skovald’s father had to take his arm to make him kneel, and Skovald had to match that deed or more for him to call him god or king.
Symma allowed the storm to subside and Thisalee voiced her amazement at the performance Symma had put on.
She offered a truly genuine smile, and the group all agreed that it was quite the display, and Lantresor smirked and expressed that Symma had been in her element.
Arthak said it was like all times, but they had business to attend to. Thura said it really did all sound like what happened before.
Zuni quieted, but he still smiled supportively.
Seria cast [Wind Walk] over the group and they started to ascend the mountain. It did not take long for them to see the storm drakes flying protectively around the peak.
Symma emerged from her cloud form and called out to the dragons.
Before long, several storm drakes began to descend. The one at the head was quite large, and he crackled with electricity as he landed on the cliffside where the rest of the group had taken their humanoid forms.
The dragon roared.
There was just a rumble in response.
Nyxxa spoke up and explained the Legion sought to make another attempt at what they did thousands of years ago, but they were seeking to stop them. Arthak agreed that they came in respect to the dragons and their gods, and he showed the scale of Ruthless.
The group agreed and the dragon said they would carry them to their refuge, regardless of if they had wings of their own, as it was their own way of watching them. He demanded Sol be the one to ride with him. Symma looked at her drake sadly, but relented to get on.
The drakes did not take them to a peak, but instead a sheltered alcove. Inside were pools charged with electricity, and a massive dragoness with baby blue scales that was staring wistfully out into the sky. The eldest drake stepped forward.
She looked at the group.
Symma also tried to appeal to the grieving dragoness, expressing that they had seen the world in all its splendors and they had seen it broken, but they did not want to see it broken again.
For a moment, lightning crackled in the dragon’s maw, but then she deflated as she recognized they meant the words they said. However, she said she had only seen Symma’s kind once before. Many years ago there had been another that shared her face.
Thrymjaris sighed and asked them to help her, as she didn’t know what to do. They were supposed to be there together to carry the gods into battle and devour the Legion when the skies burned.
Nyxxa asked her to explain, and the dragon said that Skovald ascended the mountain and they gave him the same trial they gave all that did. They bestowed a young dragon to Skovald, and tasked him to prove to the whelp that they were worthy, as they were the ones that saw with the clearest eyes.
Sol said there were magics that could dominate the mind, but he was still there and could be freed. Thrymjaris said she didn’t know where he went. But even if they found him, there might have been nothing left for him to return to.
She warned them of her beloved’s clutch brother, Nithogg, who had spurned the gods and coveted Fathnyr’s reign. He would come to claim them, and she could not stand his tyranny.
Vethir said that he would not standby while Nithogg took their home, but his mother said none could stand against them without Fathnyr.
Arthak did a quick scan over the group, and he said they could help her. Thyrmjaris said she could not grant them the mark, only Fathnyr could, but Arthak said that mattered not. Vethir said he would accompany the warband and watch over them.
The group promised.
Vethir directed the group toward the mountain where Nithogg roosted and they started to make plans. However, suddenly, everything froze for Symma specifically.
One of the dragons stepped forward. They had a strange, almost feathered appearance, and she couldn’t recall if they were there before.
Symma looked around at the other dragons, but then Q’onzu was gone. He appeared behind Symma in a more humanoid guise that vaguely resembled a harpy. He placed his talons on her shoulder.
