Guardians True and Lost
Thirtieth Day of the Eighth Month 293 AC
"The Long Night comes again. The people of Bear Island, and those who would call them allies, must prepare to fight the endless Winter. Would you lend them your strength?" you send across the tenuous link as your spell frays and fades.
A haze of crimson notes answer you, not words but wordless knowings, at once the roar of beasts and the voice of gods:
"I have!" The words would have been a roar of challenge if not for the great gulf of emptiness you hear them across.
"I have endured through the Empty Years when others fled... died... betrayed! Who are you to summon me to the duty I have never abandoned?"
There is no place in your answer for cunning words or honeyed praise to sooth wounded pride, that much you know for certain, and so you speak with blunt sincerity.
"I am one who would face Winter's power, one who would see to it that defilers should never walk these shores. The Salt Men will come in peace or not at all. Would you rather rage against me and not them? Would you spend the last of your strength for pride's sake?"
"Wise you are, though bitter is the wisdom you bring. Know that these are not my last words, for the blood is strong for many who bear it, the winds rise swiftly. The Joining of Flesh will come upon more in time, the very fangs of my Chosen will drip with my Gift. Be wary, for more than Winter comes with the Opening of Ways..."
The fragile spell-forged affinity almost fades beyond hearing, but with a wish you braid it together once more that you may hear whatever warning he had to give.
"Beware the Thrice Accursed who with chains of iron and fool's gold was lashed, who comes to take the service he is not owed," the spirit rumbles.
"Of whom do you speak, Ancient One?" you ask, wondering what fresh horror is to be revealed to you in this place.
"The One who flew the Wavering Flame in the Pit of Bones. He has returned once, tasted air and tarnished light. He will come again."
You let out a frustrated sigh. That the words are cryptic not through the spirit's will, but through the nature of its very being brings you scant comfort.
Flame and bones... Memory stirs. The
Advodaza that had slain Thoros in the Dragonpit... This spirit knew of it, was of the same kindred before 'the accursed' descended into Hell and was reforged in its image.
"What was it? Where would it most likely strike?" you ask urgently.
"He was of the Sea and dwelt besides the land of the Salt Folk before they turned to Defilement. His name I have stricken from my memory," the bear spirit replies. Anger slowly fades:
"Give word to the people that they are not to harm those who give themselves to the bear, for they are guardians not hunters. I come, I wake... soon."
The voice fades, his time to slumber. Perhaps with blood and ritual he could be awoken swifter, but that is more than you can do here and now unprepared. You ponder what you had heard. On the one hand the more reasons for Hell to work at odds with the Deep Ones the better, but on the other the people of the Iron Islands would be caught between this battle of dark powers with all the ills that it would bring.
"What did you see?" Alysane asks, having obviously seen someone experience a vision before.
"I saw the power from which the strength of the Bear springs. He is old and has long slumbered, but with the rising tides of magic his influence waxes. More than you and your daughter will change their skin in truth," you reply truthfully, though keeping back the revelation that did not concern Bear Island.
"We keep to the Old Gods," she says uncomfortably. "The bear is just part of us."
"It is just as the water we drink becomes just part of us, but that does not mean it could not have come from a spring, does it?" you clarify the point. "I do not think he expects or needs worship, though sacrifice could wake him swifter."
The warrior woman glances at the prints made in blood, the most recent of it her own. No more words of explanation need to be said, then. The three of you climb back out through the cave, each caught up in your own thoughts.
What do you do next?
[] Try to persuade Maege Mormont to let your mages study the cave and perhaps help awaken the Bear quicker
-[] Write in arguments
[] Attempt to recruit Oddric
-[] Write in arguments
[] Return home
-[] Write in what to do next
OOC: I know this is short, but there's no way around the decision point.
