Skaði's Message
Following the harvesting of the dragon, Íss severs it’s head and drags it away from the body, to sit on one of the hills nearby, overlooking the hot spring it once called home. He cleans the skull and carves Jotun runes into the forehead reading: “Let the death of this great beast be dedicated to the greatest of hunters, Skaði. Let it be known that by her grace we are always ready.” He then lays the remaining organs of the creature within the mouth of the skull and says a prayer to Skaði, dedicating the kill and it’s resulting shrine to her.
As Íss finishes his prayer and sacrifices, a cold wind begins to blow, swirling about the area and throwing snow from the ground into the air like a localized snowstorm. The skull and offerings begin to frost over then freeze as a thin layer of ice forms over the newly built shrine. The winds intensify until nothing can be seen but white. Íss tenses as the wind continues to build, preparing himself for what may come, but as the winds calm slightly and his vision returns he sees a figure stepping from the storm around him.
A woman, tall and imposing, with pale blue skin and eyes, white hair that blows in the wind, blending with the blowing snow steps from the edge of the makeshift clearing amid the blizzard around them. She wears bronze scale mail and the pelt of a great beast is draped across her shoulders while a bow crafted from bone and wrapped in leather rests across her back. She moves around the shrine, peering at it with pale eyes matching the storm about her. Then she speaks, her voice like a cool winter wind.
“A worthy adversary. One whose defeat is truly emblematic of the strength you have acquired upon your journey.” Then her eyes turn on Íss , “representative as well of the devotion you have continued to show, young hunter. A suitable shrine.”
Íss drops to a knee and bows, though unable to avert his eyes, looking up with wonder as he hangs on her every word. “It is truly an honor to be graced by the presence of one as great as yourself. I’ve always dreamed of the day we would finally meet! This will not be the last shrine either, I plan to spread your shrines throughout all the clans. If that pleases you of course.”
Skaði looks down upon Íss, cold eyes watching his every move, measuring his every word.
“It would please me…,” she begins slowly, “if you would stand on your feet. What is this mewling from one who calls themselves my hunter? You act as a simpering pup!” Her voice rises with the biting wind as she continues, walking about the clearing. “I am no Aesir Lady to grovel before! I am no Vanir Princess to swoon over flowery words! I am Jotun, and I value action!”
The winds calm as she stops, standing in front of Íss. “ And your actions have spoken well. Speak plainly and do not question your thoughts. Stand, and show me your courage. Look me in the eye and show me the strength of your conviction.”
Íss stands to his full height, summoning his spear to his hand and looks Skaði in the eye. The power in her stern, unyielding stare is enough to nearly buckle his knees, but his stance remains firm. “My spear is yours,” he says, attempting to maintain a courageous demeanor, “I only ask what I might do to serve to your liking. I would make a great addition to your hunters, and one day I plan to be the greatest of them.”
Skaði keeps her eyes on him as he speaks and for several silent moments after he finishes before speaking. “You have been ever-loyal, even when tempted with power. But more importantly, you have proven your resolve and your strength.” She looks up as if staring at the hidden horizon. “An old threat has been stirred. It tosses in its sleep. Your actions and those of your companions have caused its minions ire and soon they will be upon you. They stalk you even now, hidden in the
shadows of thought itself. You must be prepared.”
She reaches a hand toward Íss and as she does her form shifts and shrinks until her hand rests just above his head. “This entity rivals any of the Aesir or Vanir, despite their incessant boasting. It is ancient and unknowable. We of Jotunheim know this all too well. It will bring Ruin,” the earth rumbles at her words, “and it will seek your end and the end of all things as it has before. For your devotion and in light of this inevitability, I grant you a chance at that which you desire.” The wind grows with her every word to a near deafening sound, but her voice rings clearly through. “Do not view this as a gift, for you will earn it. Do not thank me, for if you disappoint it will be forfeit.” The cold wind chills through Íss’ normally resilient form and bites as the purest form of wind and ice assaults his body, leaving patches of ice upon his skin. The wind and snow blow wildly, blocking vision once more.
“Prove to me your worthiness Íss Viðr.”
When the snow and wind finally die down, Skaði is nowhere to be seen and all that is left of the events of the last few moments is the dragon’s skull covered in a sheet of permafrost. Íss stands shivering for a few moments in disbelief as the chill of the Skaði’s power leaves his body. He looks back at the dragon’s skull and smirks before his face hardens into a frown. ‘It would seem the hard times are merely beginning, I should probably get back to the others and let them know about this…' Íss gives one final look to the shrine before turning back to Nygàrd to return to the party.
As Íss finishes his prayer and sacrifices, a cold wind begins to blow, swirling about the area and throwing snow from the ground into the air like a localized snowstorm. The skull and offerings begin to frost over then freeze as a thin layer of ice forms over the newly built shrine. The winds intensify until nothing can be seen but white. Íss tenses as the wind continues to build, preparing himself for what may come, but as the winds calm slightly and his vision returns he sees a figure stepping from the storm around him.
A woman, tall and imposing, with pale blue skin and eyes, white hair that blows in the wind, blending with the blowing snow steps from the edge of the makeshift clearing amid the blizzard around them. She wears bronze scale mail and the pelt of a great beast is draped across her shoulders while a bow crafted from bone and wrapped in leather rests across her back. She moves around the shrine, peering at it with pale eyes matching the storm about her. Then she speaks, her voice like a cool winter wind.
“A worthy adversary. One whose defeat is truly emblematic of the strength you have acquired upon your journey.” Then her eyes turn on Íss , “representative as well of the devotion you have continued to show, young hunter. A suitable shrine.”
Íss drops to a knee and bows, though unable to avert his eyes, looking up with wonder as he hangs on her every word. “It is truly an honor to be graced by the presence of one as great as yourself. I’ve always dreamed of the day we would finally meet! This will not be the last shrine either, I plan to spread your shrines throughout all the clans. If that pleases you of course.”
Skaði looks down upon Íss, cold eyes watching his every move, measuring his every word.
“It would please me…,” she begins slowly, “if you would stand on your feet. What is this mewling from one who calls themselves my hunter? You act as a simpering pup!” Her voice rises with the biting wind as she continues, walking about the clearing. “I am no Aesir Lady to grovel before! I am no Vanir Princess to swoon over flowery words! I am Jotun, and I value action!”
The winds calm as she stops, standing in front of Íss. “ And your actions have spoken well. Speak plainly and do not question your thoughts. Stand, and show me your courage. Look me in the eye and show me the strength of your conviction.”
Íss stands to his full height, summoning his spear to his hand and looks Skaði in the eye. The power in her stern, unyielding stare is enough to nearly buckle his knees, but his stance remains firm. “My spear is yours,” he says, attempting to maintain a courageous demeanor, “I only ask what I might do to serve to your liking. I would make a great addition to your hunters, and one day I plan to be the greatest of them.”
Skaði keeps her eyes on him as he speaks and for several silent moments after he finishes before speaking. “You have been ever-loyal, even when tempted with power. But more importantly, you have proven your resolve and your strength.” She looks up as if staring at the hidden horizon. “An old threat has been stirred. It tosses in its sleep. Your actions and those of your companions have caused its minions ire and soon they will be upon you. They stalk you even now, hidden in the
shadows of thought itself. You must be prepared.”
She reaches a hand toward Íss and as she does her form shifts and shrinks until her hand rests just above his head. “This entity rivals any of the Aesir or Vanir, despite their incessant boasting. It is ancient and unknowable. We of Jotunheim know this all too well. It will bring Ruin,” the earth rumbles at her words, “and it will seek your end and the end of all things as it has before. For your devotion and in light of this inevitability, I grant you a chance at that which you desire.” The wind grows with her every word to a near deafening sound, but her voice rings clearly through. “Do not view this as a gift, for you will earn it. Do not thank me, for if you disappoint it will be forfeit.” The cold wind chills through Íss’ normally resilient form and bites as the purest form of wind and ice assaults his body, leaving patches of ice upon his skin. The wind and snow blow wildly, blocking vision once more.
“Prove to me your worthiness Íss Viðr.”
When the snow and wind finally die down, Skaði is nowhere to be seen and all that is left of the events of the last few moments is the dragon’s skull covered in a sheet of permafrost. Íss stands shivering for a few moments in disbelief as the chill of the Skaði’s power leaves his body. He looks back at the dragon’s skull and smirks before his face hardens into a frown. ‘It would seem the hard times are merely beginning, I should probably get back to the others and let them know about this…' Íss gives one final look to the shrine before turning back to Nygàrd to return to the party.
Comments