Completed Lost in the Ice

Ralzrydur

the Hungerer
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Nnnn---No m---No mooore!

Of course not. You have the power to end this, Skald.

I don't----I don't kno---graaarrrggghhhh!

Lies. Why do you lie to me? Your suffering is meaningless. Let me end it. Tell me what I want to know.

It's only an old wivestale. Don't know. Don't----know.

If it's only a wivestale then telling me about it will cause no harm. Save yourself the pain. Save your kin the pain.

M---mon----monster.

Yes, I am. This world is made of monsters and men, better to be one than the other.

----

Come now. Silence will not save you.

AaaAaarrrgghhh! Nor---North! It is---north! Where the Old Gods still walk.

Old Gods. You'll meet them before me, Skald.




Days later
Northern Eretejva Tundra


The Skald had died in agony, his skin stripped from his body slowly before the Dragon had allowed him to succumb to death. Once the deed was done Old White Death had taken his flesh and blood and performed a ritual. The Dragon had never needed the Skald to tell him what he knew, he only needed to know that his prisoner knew something.

Long ago something had fallen from the stars and been lost below the earth.

Fresh snow crunched beneath the feet of the northerners that traveled across it. This far north signs of life were scarce, aside from the harsh northern winds the snow usually laid undisturbed for as far as the eye could see. Evergreens, as old as the land rose in a patchwork that dotted the land and mountains rose up in the background.

When they had started out the Nords were a dozen, now they were half that. The elements had claim the lives of several, hazards both natural and otherwise the rest.

The Servants of White Death drove onward their fervor unwilling to allow them to turn back knowing that their master would be unforgiving to their failure. Nor would Eirik the Red-Handed. The Nord was larger than the others and watched them with a look of imperious disdain, Ralzrydur had chosen him.

As they moved across the landscape one of the Nord would eventually lift is arm, pointing into the distance and shout...

"There, there! In the distance I see it!"

....there was a fissure, a crack in the snow covered landscape that lead to someplace below the surface. Eirik let a smile of grim determination touch the corners of his mouth...

"Exactly as he foretold."

The group would move forward then, towards the fissure.
 
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Continuing forward the fissure that the men had spotted grew larger the closer they came. As they drew near it was easy to see the crack in the earth was large, descending down into the depths beneath the snow and ice that covered the landscape. Ice flows now buried beneath the snow spilled over the sides of the fissure where they formed an overhang of crystalline teeth.

When they came to the edge of the crack one of the men, leaning forward to look down felt the snow shift beneath his feet and almost slid forward to his doom. Only the strong hand of Eirik set across his shoulder and jerking him backwards and away saved him...

"Watch your step, cur."

...the Nord growled as a patch of snow gave way, crumbling under itself and sliding forward under the buried ice down into the fissure...

"Another misstep and I'll let you fall."

...there seemed little love lost between many of these men but they all served the same purpose and answered to the same master. Eirik the Red-Handed just happened to be the spokesman for that master at this point in time but that could change, if he died.

Among the Northmen that served the White Death others had set down backpacks they'd been carrying, removed pitons and started hammering the into the ice or rock at the edge of the fissure. Rope was also latched to the pitons before the men threw it over the side into the depths of the fissure. They'd need to rappel down if they were to claim the prize they'd been sent for.

Of the Northmen, Eirik was the third to begin his descent behind two others known as Modi and Haroldr then others followed. Of their number a single man remained on the surface to ensure the pitons and rope remained secure.

As they rappelled down Eirik would let his head tilt backwards, looking up towards the top of the fissure so that he could see the light of the surface growing smaller. The Fissure descended over a hundred feet, going down deeper than many would have expected at first glance and while the light grew dimmer some of it still remained, captured by the ice that had formed this far down and transformed into makeshift crystalline stalactites. One thing that did not diminish was the cold though, you could feel it in your bones more than ever here.
 
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The Descent took time, rappelling down wasn't a quick undertaking. The Northmen had to consider the natural hazards lining the walls of the fissure, still everything seemed to be proceeding as planned until...

"Shit..."

...up above him Eirik heard the voice of another of the men, one of the ones that had begun the descent after him. A dusting of snow sprinkled down over his face from the disturbance above. Eirik heard what was happening before he saw it, the scream was piercing...

"Aiiiieeeeeee!!!"

...the man came free of his line, somehow he hadn't tied it off correctly or it'd come free and sliding on the slick surface of the fissure walls he fell backwards and downwards...

"Lookout bellow! Suck the wall!"

....was the only warning Eirik could give to the other two men continuing to rappel below him. The Nord above who wasn't falling also headed his words though. Eirik drew himself close to the icy walls of the fissure leading downwards just as his companion fell past him, howling as he flew downwards until a moment later the sounds he made ceased utterly. Somewhere at the bottom his broken body awaited them.

Their were four of them now, rappelling into the darkness. Eirik knew before the end more of them would die.

It took time but eventually the Northmen, servants of the White Death would reach the bottom. An awesome sight awaited them. Dimly lit an enormous cavern ripped into the earth spread out around them, ice that had been growing for ages rose up like hundreds of crystalline teeth keeping with what they had seen and encountered so far.

On the ground, allowing themselves a moment to adjust after their descent Eirik would have pointed in one direction through the ice and rock stating...

"This way, its power radiates even from here."

...the Nord took a step forward, the other men fell into line and they began to move. Eirik the Red-Handed couldn't have been the only one amongst them to feel the power radiating from deep in these caverns but he was the only one who spoke openly about it. It felt like a reverberation, a pulsing that came and went, shuddering outwards to lead men to its epicenter.
 
It was jutting up out of the ice.

Buried in the earth years ago when it fell from the sky and made landfall. In a time before time when history hadn't been recorded. When it had struck it must had punched through the rock, penetrating deep into the ground and creating the fissure in the process. Over a millennia had past since it fell from the stars, the world changing around it. Of course it had been discovered once, worshiped by different cults derived of primitive man but most Historians, Lorekeepers, Skalds, etc had no idea of its existence.

Only a few Skald's had known the stories of strange things happening out over the ice and of men lured out onto the tundra to the fissure. The Dragon had found one of those Skalds.



The Cavern was open after the group dropped down into it, the icy stalagmites rising from the cavern floor coupling with stalactites growing downwards creating an insidious image. Eirik the Red-Handed and the other Northmen saw it after navigating the cavernous depths of the icy fissure. When they came over a small rise in the earth it was there, lodged in the ice with several jagged edges rising up out of it.

There was a thrumming in their heads, a buzzing in their skulls the closer they came to it as the meteorite radiated a strange power. The Nord's could feel it in their bones, it manifest as tingling or the sensation that their skin was crawling. Eirik would shake his head and bark...

"There, cut it out of the ice."

...the fervor of the Nord was obvious but his companions were shaken, one of them even turned his head and looked at Eirik blurting out...

"We....we should go, Eirik....we aren't supposed to be here."

...but his reluctance was only met by the sting of a heavy backhand turning his head aside when Eirik struck him and growled...

"We go nowhere without the prize. You'll not have to worry about our Lord's rage for your disobedience the next time you speak out of turn."

...a brief act of violence and the fear instilled in them by his threats caused the other two Northmen to hurry in their task while the third rubbed his jaw and picked himself up. Eirik joined them. They had tools on their person, small picks and digging equipment that assisted them in cracking through the ice that the rock had been buried into.

The Ice came apart easier than expected almost as though the meteorite wanted to be freed from its prison, it continued to thrum and pulse but engrossed in their task the Northmen hadn't noticed an important detail. They weren't alone.

A shadow rose up behind the Northmen as they continued working the meteorite from the ice, the sound of their tools masking a stalking approach. Finally engulfed in an alien shadow one of the men looked back over his shoulder and saw it. A Wormlike creature, towering over them the monster watched through alien eyes, saliva dripping from a visceral maw.

"Holy shit!"

....all the Northman could blurt out before the creature snapped down over him, sinking dozens of teeth into his torso and saw him in half. He was pulled off his feet, the lower half of his torso thrown dozens of feet away amidst the icy spikes while the other Nords scattered.
 
Eirik was aghast, they had come so far and now the success of their mission was jeopardized. To the Nord it would be better to die attempting to complete his task than to die when he returned to his master empty handed though. The Dragon was not known for his charity or mercy where his followers were concerned insisting that only the strong should survive.

Raging was an easy decision for Eirik the Red-Handed to make, it came naturally to him. He pressed up off the icy floor he'd fallen onto after he and the other Northmen had scattered, rising slowly to his feet. Reaching for a sword he kept sheathed on his belt he'd have drawn steel and shouted....

"Kill it! There is no escape, no mercy!"

...and the two other men fell into line. Dropping the tools they'd been using to crack the ice and chip the meteorite out of its icy prison the Northmen drew their weapons and attacked. Rallying the other two had served his purpose, Eirik felt the warmth brought on by adrenaline fill his veins but it was all a ploy in part. He needed a distraction.

The Worm had reared upwards, towering over anything else in the cavern. Its vicious maw dripping a thick, gooey saliva that splattered across the icy floor while it watched its prey through strange, alien eyes.

The Northmen advanced and attacked.

Before they could get close enough the Worm struck, lunging with surprising swiftness to engulf another of the men in its terrible maw. There was a scream and a torrent of blood then barely anything remained...

"Now while its vulnerable!"

...Eirik had cried to the other man who struck at the chitinous side of the Worm, battering it without effect until his sword angled beneath a groove in the natural armor the creature possessed. When the weapon struck true the Worm raised up again in a fury, hurling the Northman backwards and prone its body turning in the process while a thick, dark ichor leaked from the area of its wound.

When his comrade was hurled away Eirik saw his chance, he turned and ran back towards the meteorite. Still locked in the ice but more accessible than it had been the Nord approached while hearing the sounds of the other man in the background calling for assistance...

"Help! Help me, Eirik!"

...but Eirik had other ideas. Gripping his sword in both hands, right over the left he'd raise it up over his head, whirling it back around behind himself in the process before bringing it down in a powerful blow at the exposed side of the meteorite. The sword struck and the meteorite vibrated, humming with the telltale power all the men had felt; Eirik didn't notice the screams of the other man somewhere behind him. He brought his sword up again and struck a second time.

As the sword hammered into the meteorite the second time Eirik felt the reverberation of the blow travel through his forearms but his widened when he saw a chunk of the stone come free from the central mass. Even if he couldn't return with the entire meteorite he could bring back a piece. Reaching for the rock with his left hand Eirik would take it in his grasp before turning his head, the screams of his companion were dead now just like him and he saw the ravenously hungry eyes of the Worm staring back at him.

He had to run.
 
The muscles in his legs burned.

Eirik ran with a conviction he rarely felt outside of battle when he saw the light fading in the eyes of his foes. Tucking the meteorite chunk into the confines of his attire the Nord never looked back, he didn't need to look back in order to see an imminent death following him.

If he had looked then Eirik would have seen it. The Wormlike creature was pursuing him, an insatiable hunger filling its alien gaze as it crashed through the icy stalagmites rising up from the cavernous floor. It had devoured Eirik's companions, the other Servants of the White Death who had ventured down below with him and now it was coming for Eirik.

All Eirik could do was run, facing the creature would equate to death.

Running faster, pushing himself harder almost caused Eirik to trip and fall over his own feet. Tripping over himself and falling onto the ice would have meant his end. Even running Eirik was ready to admit defeat, the sounds the creature made as it crashed across the cavernous floor only grew louder but then saw it hanging out in front of him.

The Rope.

Lunging forward Eirik pressed off his feet, threw himself at the rope and caught it with both hands before beginning to pull himself upwards. Unlike rappelling downwards this took more muscle on his part but the adrenaline filling his veins ensured he made quick work of it. Climbing the rope was quicker than even he realized. It wasn't long until he'd ascended far only to look down and see it.

A maw filled with dozens of teeth ready to shred and tear him apart snapped at his legs as he climbed. The Worm creature barely missed him and it only would have taken one bite, one bite and a limb would have come free of the rest of his body. Shock would set in alongside a torrent of blood rushing from his torso and he would have been dead in moments. Today Eirik the Red-Handed avoided that fate though.

When he'd climbed far enough he'd have paused, the thrum of the meteorite chunk was felt against his side in the confines of his clothing. He hadn't noticed it during his escape but out of danger it was evident.

There was a moment then, looking down below that Eirik caught the gaze of the Wormlike creature staring up at him through alien eyes, its ravenous maw slathering as it looked on hungrily. He stared at it then shook his head and began to climb again, higher and higher towards the entrance of the fissure where one man should still remain. Despite fatigue starting to set into his limbs Eirik found the strength to continue to climb....
 
The Climb took longer than the the descent. When a fresh dusting of snow fell from above, washing across his face briefly Eirik knew he was near the top.

The Fissure had been deeper than any of them had imagined. The Dragon had not warned them of the perils lurking in its depths either, he had only instructed Eirik and the others on where they would find his prize. Of those that descended into the depths only Eirik remained, the others were now dead but the Northman was not alone.

As he reached out of the fissure, he hand grasping at the edge, the packed snow and the icy rock beneath Eirik felt something grab hold of his wrist then his forearm and begin to reef him upwards. It was the other sole survivor of this expedition, another Servant of the White Death who had stayed above to ensure the rope his comrades used remained true.

"The others?"

...the question hung in the air despite the fact that Northman already knew the answer but Eirik replied nonetheless...

"Dead."


...it seemed neither of them would dwell on their comrades deaths. No sooner was the answer given then did the Northman nod and inquire next...

"The Prize?"


...this time Eirik reacted with a stoic nod and digging into his attire, inside the heavy furs meant to insulate him from the cold and the tunic beneath before removing the chunk of the meteorite that he had broken off and holding it up in the palm of his hand. Both men stared, it still thrummed with power though its pulse had dimmed compared to the first impression it gave as part of a larger mass, then the Northman spoke....

"Smaller than I thought it would be."

...Eirik nodded, glancing back over his shoulder down into the fissure...

"This is only a piece of the whole. There were complications and this was all I could come away with."

...there was nothing more the Northman could say, if that was all Eirik could retrieve then that was the way of it but he wondered how the Dragon would react. The Hungerer had wished for the entire thing, the power of the meteorite would have been immense but even a chunk was potent insofar as either man knew.

The trek back would be long, after sharing a look both men begin to move back out across the snow swept tundra.