The True North

 

Where does cold come from? What a fascinatingly naïve statement. Everyone knows cold comes from the North.

No, not the north, that mundane direction. I mean the North. It’s what’s off the top of your maps, there. I’ve been there once – should I tell you the story?

Travel far enough north among the sea ice, and you’ll come to an island, green among the white. The locals call this place Ilulissat.

There’s a thriving town here, full of generous people and warm drinks. The hall on the shore is a place where the most beautiful music is played, the most insightful philosophy is considered, and the most inspired learning is done. To marvel in awe for a day is worth the trip alone.

Pitch your tent on the beach, anchor your ship in the cove, and treat everyone you meet with kindness and respect. Then, walk to the northern side of the island.

There you’ll see the sea run out, and the ice sheet float off forever into a sky of eternal night. You’ll see two winding bands of colour, the Great Auroras, green, purple and blue above you, red, orange and gold beneath, through the cracks in the ice. The sound of the endless falling of the sea is immense.

On that endless plain of cracked, floating icebergs and endless, ethereal twilight. You shall see such things. Everyone you meet will be extremely muscular-

What?

Why is everyone there muscular?

Well… I don’t know everything, do I? I suppose you’d need to be muscular to, uh, understand the Northy Mysteries?  Just shoosh and listen.

*ahem*, Everyone you meet will be extremely muscular, and all shall be on the same path as you – the path to consider the Northy Mysteries, the ancient secrets of cold, twilight and stars.

But there are dangers, too! There are many great beasts, driven from southern lands by callous hunters, who make their way along the Twilight Sea. And darker evils still – be wary you of the Eclipse King, greatest of all Vampires!

 

1d12 Encounters in the True North  

1. Ripped Philosopher – They’re up from Ilulissat on a little trip to see the stars. They’ve brought their telescope and their books on the meaning of life. They’d be glad of your input into the anthology of opinions they’re writing. Probably have some booze in the barrel they’re sitting on.
2.  Star Whale – A jet-black, star dappled whale, swimming down from the Higher Aurora. It is curious and intelligent, and will probably have some valuable information on the Northy Mysteries, if that’s your kind of thing. Can also carry you places, in exchange for a song. 
3.  1d6+2 Muscular Warriors – Proud, philosophical, gullible. Will want to arm wrestle you. They’re from all over. They’re heading to some games in Ilulissat. Their leader is a champion spear thrower.
4.  1d4x2 Aurora Knights – Two factions, alike in dignity, of sentient solar wind, who each view their aurora as their kingdom, and the other aurora as their polite yet dastardly rivals. They swirl into beautifully crafted armour of brittle ice, twice the height of you, then sail down on ships of frozen mist to wage choreographed war. They’ll pay extravagant sums of raw elements to anyone who can sketch their enchanting battles.
5.   Seeker of the Garden – This traveller clearly hasn’t been here long, since they’ve not yet achieved the familiar muscularity of the other denizens. They seem lost, babbling on about how they are looking for a shimmering garden of plenty, here among the ice. Could such a place exist?
6. Living Gale – Not a true Ælemental, since it’s only moving air, but perhaps a cousin. Capricious, distracted and petty. It will follow travellers and make sure to blow bad smells their way.  Any attempt to get rid of it will result in vicious reprisals and flying chunks of ice. It’ll get bored on its own, eventually.
7. Whalers – They normally catch mundane whales in the sea farther south, but they’re here on a contract from an academic in Ilulissat. They’ve converted their ship into a shaky dirigible – they sail with moonlit harpoons held forward; eyes ever open for the cruel flanks of the Necromancer Whale.
8. The Necromancer Whale – Actually, it’s a Narwhal. It floats, twisting and bucking, horn held forward to impale. It is surrounded by the ghostly spirits of those whales it has felled in combat, and flanked by an army of muscular zombies. All narwhals are like this, but they’re just better at managing their anger than this one.
9. 1d6 Star Wanderers – Pallid, long limbed folk with black, reflective eyes and no noses. They wear strange cloth of red and gold, cubical hats, and are often accompanied by gadgets of humming wires and ticking gears. They sometimes have small, useful constructs for hauling and mining, which they will sell to you for a price in raw elements such as magnesium.  
10. Plant Tender – A frost-marked ceramic giant, pock-marked with copper openings. Its internal chambers are filled with hot, clean water, and it wields a giant rake. It is one of eight, but the twisting crackling movements of the Twilight Sea have thrown it clear from it’s hidden home. It is melancholy and incredibly strong.
11. Ælemental of Pure Cold – Cylindrical, shimmery pillar of utter chill and stillness. Often contains cryogenically preserved people and animals from ancient times. Can freeze anything, in exchange for a proportionate amount of heat as payment. Heat is like drugs for it. It requires a torch to freeze your drink, a bonfire to freeze that bear chasing you, and a whole forest’s worth of wood to freeze your aging, leaving you immortal, if eternally chilly.
12. The Eclipse King – A rotten, wiry man, swaddled in furs and rich silks, with massive crystalline fangs. Each of his eyes is an eclipsed star. Should you make eye-contact, save or go permanently blind. He lives in a gigantic iceberg castle filled to the brim with frostbitten ghouls and giant, vampiric walruses.