Voluntatem triumphat

 From the journal of Johanna Schwarz:

32. Vorhexen, 2498

Tonight I dreamt of the ocean. The sea was dark, the sun nowhere to be seen, and I was falling into the waters, sinking down towards the bottom. What little light filtered down from above grew slowly weaker, and I could sense that all around in the dark waters there were formless creatures waiting for my feeble struggling to end.

Waking up did not provide relief. This cursed land is cloaked in a perpetual dark winter, broken only by a pale, weak light from a cold sun for some short hours every day, and from the accursed dancing lights in the sky. But the cold and dark outside now only mirrors the cold and dark inside. We are at a low point.

The nefarious witch Malice has her evil grip on Eldur and Sunniva. They are convinced that if we do not perform her set task, securing for her the – undoubtedly powerfully magical – remains of her long-dead sister, they will die in despair. We cannot do this. We cannot. I do not know if Malice has the power over the Arasson siblings that she claims, but I know that to aid such a fiend would secure her grip, and taint our immortal souls beyond redemption. There is no way to profit from a deal with a devil. Even if you think you win, in the end the forces of chaos triumph. So now we seemingly face the choice between death and damnation.

And this ogre’s choice is put to us while our group is at its lowest. Sunnivas abrupt killing of Valmir has driven a deep wedge in our midst. Torgil is furious, and does not trust us anymore. The elf, Talian, has withdrawn, seeming distant and judging. Piet is angry and despairing, and the twins just have thoughts for each other. And I, I have failed as a leader of this group.

A plan forms in my mind. I could sneak off to the place of the remains of the Fimir witch and destroy them, thereby taking away the choice which would damn them all. It would likely mean my end, but maybe the rest could be saved and get back to civilization?

 

33. Vorhexen, 2498

It is the final day of the year, and we are at a crossroads. We have been going west, towards our original goal, but now Eldur proclaims he feels that we have to head north towards the Fimir remains, or risk Malice’s wrath. The group is divided.

In desperation, I propose my plan: That I bear the brunt of Malice’s wrath, and give the others a chance to escape this frozen hellscape. Their response surprises me. I thought they would be glad to be rid of me at this point, but they all oppose my idea. After a long deliberation, we agree that we will all risk the Fimir’s ire, go west and complete our original mission.

Maybe there can be a new year? Maybe we will feel the sun on our faces again?

Sunniva proposes that we spend the evening in prayer, to try to lift our souls. I agree, even if prayer has never meant much to me. Of course the gods are there, and they can even give succour to their chosen champions, but in my experience, they care little for us normal people. I suppose they are too busy ruling the world and working to oppose the forces of chaos. Still, I join her in prayer, sending it to all the forces that can aid – Shallya, Sigmar or Morr. If they have any spare attention, maybe these small, irrelevant souls deep in their enemies’ lands can awaken their sympathy?

 

Hexensnacht, 2499

 

We go west, arriving in a wooded valley. We see some huts crowding the shores of a small lake, with smoke rising from their chimneys. We have no desire to meet any more Norscan savages, so we skirt the outside of the valley, with Torgil, Talian and Sunniva serving as scouts.

Towards the evening, we climb the slopes on the opposite side of the valley, having avoided any Norscans. When night is approaching with its icy tentacles, we cross the ridge, only to find ourselves facing an icy plain strewn with bones and skeletons. This horrifying vista is undoubtedly the remains of an ancient, long-forgotten battle.

Our «compass» points us further into the macabre plain, but we decide to camp at the outskirts, none of us keen to sleep amongst the bones, especially on this, Morr’s most holy night.

We have grown accustomed to having double watch shifts, and this night it proves its merit. During Talian and Sunnivas shift, a horrendous beast approaches us from the plains. Two long, spindly arms support a gruesome undead head filled with fangs. Warned by the guards, we unleash what we can on the horror, but it seems to take just superficial damage. In a blink it is among us, jumping on Eldur, hurting him badly. I charge into the beast, shoving it away from Eldur and hacking wildly at it. Hissing in anger, it swerves on me and sinks its fangs into my shoulder. As I kick and hack at it to get some distance, I can see it seems to grow stronger when it hurts us – the thing is vampiric! Torgil and Sunniva sink arrows into its flesh, and just as I am bracing for another attack, Talian rolls under the beast, standing up and skewering it on his twin blades. With a final rattle, it slumps over and is still.

I spit Morr’s curse over the foul abomination, and carve it up, after which we feed it to the flames to keep it from returning.

 

1. Nachexen, 2499

Walking out across the bonestrewn plain was eerie, even by Norscan standards. Eldur assured us that there is no necromantic magic hiding in the boneheaps, but it still felt like walking on someone’s grave. Who were these people? What did they fight for, and against who? Were they agents of chaos or heroes of light and order? We will never know.

After we had walked several hours inward on the plain, the magical lodestone started spinning wildly, indicating that we were close to the last piece of the stone tableau. We spread out, searching the ground for clues to where it might be hidden. Finally we found it – hidden under several feet of ice. A couple of hours of hacking later, we were able to pull it out of the ground. Thankfully, it was smaller than the previous pieces, but still, it will be a burden to carry back to the ship.

None of us were keen on spending any more time in the boneyard, so we went back to our campsite at the plain’s edge and settled in for the night.

 

3. Nachexen, 2499

After spending a day getting back across the valley, we were once again at the crossroads. We must get back to our ship, but yet again we are faced with horrid choices.

Eldur insisted that we had to perform the task Malice set, or our end would be nigh. He does not see how deeply he is caught in her web. She has spun a net of lies in his mind, and tricked him into believing that she knows, and can control his fate. He is convinced that there are only two roads for him, either do her bidding, or die. He is wrong. Powerful as she is, even a witch like Malice does not have infinite grasp. If we can make it to the shore and our ship, we can escape this hell, and be free of her grasp, I am sure of it.

So I put my foot down, and say that doing Malice’s bidding is out of the question. I would rather die. That also rules out going back the way we came, through the swamp. Evading a powerful sorceress is one thing. Doing it while walking through her place of power is another.

Sunniva is equally adamant that choosing the route though the valley controlled by the brutal Norscan warlord is equally unacceptable. I have heard stories of how Norscan wartribes treat captives, and I understand her apprehension.

That leaves the mountain.

Climbing a frozen peak in the dead of winter sounds like suicide. Maybe it is. Yet it is our only choice.

 

4. Nachexen 2499

We had to leave the dogs and the sled behind as we started our ascent. Strangely, several of our party seemed to have grown almost attached to the beasts, who milled about unsuredly as we left them. Carrying the heavy stone tablet and the rest of our gear makes the going extremely taxing.

It is cold.

 

5. Nachexen, 2499

I do not know if there are nature spirits in this place, but if there are, I am sure this mountain is a malicious old beast. It wants us dead. When we are not trudging through heavy snow or clinging to icy stones, we are climbing steep cliffs.

Eldur has already taken a fall, but thankfully did not sustain major injuries. One thing can be said for snow, it is not as hard to land on.

 

6. Nachexen, 2499

I cannot feel my hands as I write this. I cannot feel my soul. My breath is mist, and my muscles ache as if I have been fighting a battle all day. Will the mountain best us?

 

7. Nachexen, 2499

I do not know what we would have done without Torgil. Although he was raised in the woods, he might as well be a mountain goat. Without him I am sure we would not have come so far. We can now almost see the summit of the mountain, and the narrow pass below it, which we must cross.

 

8. Nachexen, 2499

We made it! Today, we crossed the highest point, and began our descent. A pox on all surly mountain spirits! I feel like we have bested a murderous beast. Now we have to sneak through the valley with the ruined village, avoid the Norscan villagers in the land beyond and get to the shore.

 

9. Nachexen, 2499

Tonight I dreamt of the ocean again. I was sinking ever deeper. All memory of the surface was gone on the dark tides, and nothing remained but the endless deep, and the spirits of sorrow and despair whispering in the currents.

Opening my eyes did not help. The dark is everywhere. We are cold. The stone is heavy. And Eldur and Sunniva feel as if they have been cut with knives in their sleep. They say it is Malice, fulfilling her promise of death. I do not know if I can care.

 

10. Nachexen, 2499

Why should I write? We are walking through hell. We will die. It is hopeless. Piet, Torgil and Talian feel the same.

 

11. Nachexen, 2499

None of us have any hope left. We stumble slowly forward, without purpose. I hope it ends soon.

 

12. Nachexen, 2499

In my dream tonight I was back in the ocean. I was sinking ever further down. I could see now that the ocean was made up of the sorrow I had felt, and caused in others. It was suffocating, cold, and felt as if it was without end. After all, what reason could I have to hope, to wish for life or happiness? Yet, as I looked down, welcoming the inevitable end, I saw a glimmer, coming slowly closer. Deep, deep down, shrouded in the endless dark sorrowful waters, I could see a small, golden object. All the way on the bottom a golden Iris poked out of the ocean floor, reaching for the surface, for sun, for hope, for life.

I awoke with a shout, and felt a surge of anger course through me. No! This cursed, wicked land will not conquer us. The foul witch Malice will not have the pleasure of turning us to despair. If I must use my very last strength I will drive us back to shore. To the ship. To Salzenmund. To Iris.

Damn Norsca! Damn Malice! Damn her cursed Fimir. Damn witches, damn trolls, damn undead, damn them all! I can feel my will like a torch, blazing in the cold winds. We. Will. Not. Fall.

 

14. Nachexen, 2499

It is damnable hard going. The others have all but given up, and must be tugged, kicked and cajoled to keep going. But by all the powers of light and order, we can make it and we will make it.

17. Nachexen, 2499

We made it! We skirted the gruesome Norscan village and got to shore. The others collapsed into listlessness while I built the signal cairn and set it alight, to get the Urchin to come to shore and pick us up. A few nervous hours later, fearing a Norscan raiding party all the time, the ship appeared out of the icy fog. I have never been so happy to see a ship in my life.

The shock on the crew’s faces when they saw us was like a bucket of water to the face. Apparently, we really do look like we have gone through hell. They do not know the half of it, but I am so happy to set foot on the deck of the ship. My team alive, and our prize in our grasp.

This evening after having the first warm bath in what feels like an age, I caught a look of myself in the mirror and was shocked. I look as if I’ve aged ten years. My hair is now more grey than dark, and my body is littered with scars and bruises. Was it worth it? Maybe, if I can keep Iris safe, it will be.