Spirit

Lore written during Ice's Lost City push in July 2020

The Spirit of the Glacier

The expedition was hopelessly lost. For days they had been wandering the outskirts of the Fortress of Ends, looking for new lands where they could expand their growing clan. Now, trapped by a seemingly endless blizzard, they cowered in a large rift recently cleaved into the glacier on the southwestern edge of the Fortress. With the largest of the group doing their best to shelter the smaller dragons, they rode out the storm, until at last they saw rays of sunlight piercing the clouds, and the winds were no longer howling with deafening ferocity. As they began to shift and stretch their cramped limbs, the group noticed something else illuminated by the rays of light. Frozen within the glacier they were huddling against was a figure - a small, furry figure twisted into a bizarre pose as if caught there in a rush of icy sea water, only to be frozen for eons by some great power. Some of the expedition party were scared; they didn't dare disrupt any horrors imprisoned in the Fortress. But a few of the dragons reasoned that this surely could not be a prisoner, they were so far from the core of the Fortress, and this poor little one must have been frozen here by accident. The rest of the group was wary - they could not decipher the breed of this frozen form through the foggy ice, and there were murmurings of this being a bad omen - a dark spirit foretelling of doom that would occur if they continued to look for land in this area. The few that trusted in the innocence of this unknown dragon insisted; they would stay here and attempt to free the little one, while the others returned to the clan to fetch a proper rescue party. The returning party were not pleased with this plan, but they were eager to get home, so they agreed and departed. Once home they spread tales of this Spirit found in the ice, and a band of intrepid adventurers and ice mages gathered supplies to set out. When they approached the edge of the glacier where the party had been, there was no sign of their clanmates that had remained, or of the Spirit. All that lay ahead of them was a deep rift into the ice, ending with a dark turquoise tunnel that descended out of view into the icy depths. A cold feeling of dread descended over the party as they imagined the horrors their friends were facing down below...

The dragons that remained to free the small figure worked tirelessly to chisel into the glacier. As they created more fissures and cracks into the ice, the creaking and moaning sounds issuing from the glacier made them a bit uneasy. As they carved their way nearer to the little dragon, removing large chunks of ice as they went, the sounds of the cracking and shifting ice echoing through the ravine grew almost deafening. One dragon voiced their worries to the group, but they were determined to continue excavating. As the final crack released an icy block with the figure inside, the entire glacier shook with a great force as the fissure they were in cleaved further apart, exposing a deep crack that extended below the glacial shelf. The team scrambled to hold on to the cracking and shifting ice as large chunks broke off, tumbling and shattering around them. As the shaking and heaving finally began to settle down, they looked around them, but could not see the frozen figure they had just released. Fearing it may have crashed further into the ravine, they carefully picked their way down into the ice. Descending further down the crevasse, they realized they were now heading into a sort of tunnel, with the jagged icy forms of the glacier stretching over their heads to block the sun. With nervous glances at one another, they set their resolve and continued the trek downwards.

The rescuing party was distraught at the sight ahead of them. What had happened to their clanmates when they released the Spirit from the ice? Fearing the worst, they carefully maneuvered through the ravine, down towards the entrance to the tunnel. Spotting a small pack placed in easy view, they opened it to find a note left by the missing crew. "We are all safe and uninjured. Additional glacial cleaving probably caused by our chiseling around the small dragon. We have continued ahead to look for the figure as it seems to have crashed farther down into the ravine when the shifting began. We look forward to reuniting with you soon." As they read the note, they looked at one another skeptically at the advance party's optimism. To them, it sounded more as if some dark magic had been awakened by disturbing the Spirit, not that some small chiseling could have caused such a deep rift to open. They continued on into the tunnel with a feeling of trepidation about what their friends had unleashed below.

As they climbed over sharp icy forms and squeezed through narrow openings, the advance party was just beginning to doubt their resolve when they spotted some odd ice chunks that seemed to contain clumps of hair. Excitedly concluding that the small dragon must have freed itself from the ice, they set off with renewed vigor, ignoring the creeping feeling in the backs of their minds about how a dragon frozen likely for years, or even millennia, could suddenly begin moving again. As the icy cavern began to widen, they saw more and more gravel and rocks mixed with the icy floor under their feet, until eventually it fully gave way to cold stone bedrock, just as bone-chilling as the ice they had trekked through so far. Filled with nervous excitement they followed the meandering channel as it continued to widen and connect with other icy tunnels, their ends disappearing out of sight. As they entered somewhat of a clearing, they noticed odd bits strewn amongst the gravel. Upon further inspection they concluded it seems to be some sort of pottery fragments. Full of wonder and eagerness after this discovery the party left another note for their fellow dragons and continued down the largest passageway leading out of the clearing.

The rear party of dragons shared none of their advance clanmates' eagerness as they clamored over the icy protrusions leading to the caverns on the bedrock. The air amongst them was grim as they found first the blocks of ice the Spirit broke from, and then the note left with the shattered artifacts. They examined the fragments with worry and fear, murmuring again about angering a dark spirit, now backed by additional evidence of a past society supposedly wiped out by this same great force. Some of the party voiced hushed suggestions to turn back, before they are all subject to this same doom, but when the consensus is reached to continue, no one wants to venture alone back out through the tunnels. The group pushed onward with a rising sense of foreboding, when they began to hear noises echoing from the tunnels ahead. They immediately feared the worst, but after a moment's consideration, they realized the distant echoes did not seem to be voices of fear or distress. They pushed forward cautiously, still nervous about what lays ahead, but now with a small trace of optimism. As the echoing sounds of a bustling hub grew louder, they began to notice the ground below them felt more like a well worn path in the stone, and the sides and roof of the icy tunnel seemed shaped and smoothed by magic. Soon they rounded a corner to find a staircase cut into the bedrock, worn with use, and they followed the sound of echoing laughter out of the descending tunnel and into a huge cavern bustling with activity. Frozen with shock at the sight of these unfamiliar figures, they could only stare at the dragons going about their business in what seemed to be a town square in front of them. Large, shaggy pelts and some with twisted, gnarly horns - they seemed slightly reminiscent of tundras, but far larger and wilder in form. As the party stared dumbstruck, one of these dragons spotted them and rushed over in greeting. They exclaimed excitedly about the other small group of strange dragons that had just arrived, and ushered the bewildered bunch into the square. The other strange dragons turned to stare as they guided the group into the tavern and start explaining in a rush how they were a society living under the ice for as long as they knew, with stories of the wide world passed down by their ancestors, of other strange dragons in distant lands, and how they'd always wanted to go adventuring above the ice one day but that none of the passageways below seemed to lead out to the surface. The group, having entered the tavern and seen their friends happily seated near the hearth enjoying a warm meal (although the fish and insect eating breeds were looking a bit sad as they picked at their plates), rushed over to reunite, exclaiming about how sure they were about the doom they faced, with many embraces and tears of joy being shared. The stranger who welcomed them trailed behind, looking pleased at their reuniting, and fetched some more plates of food and drinks for the whole group. The barkeep looked wary at this bustle of newcomers, but the stranger ignored this and returned to the group. After everyone is settled down, they explained that their kind are called gaolers, and started to backtrack through what they'd hastily explained earlier while guiding them through the square. The group listened with mixed reactions, some (mostly from the advance party) were thrilled to be learning about this hidden society, while others looked uneasy, and some just overwhelmed. Eventually one worked up the courage to ask about the Spirit, and if anyone here had seen it. The gaoler seemed confused and didn't recall seeing any strange little dragons entering the city that day. The group exchanged worried glances and explained how they'd found the figure, and how it had lead to the opening in the ice. The gaoler's eyes widened with excitement as they listened, and they seemed ready to set off immediately on a search for the lost dragon, before remembering how tired the adventurers must be. They offered to pay for rooms at the inn for them to rest in, and set off to tell the elders about this new development.

Years down the line, the dragons that had ventured into the ice are still asked to tell the tale of their harrowing adventure. They tell of the great storm, the dark figure in the ice, and heaving and cracking that had opened the passageway to the Lost City. They explain the long, twisted passageways through the glacier giving way to bedrock-based caverns deep beneath the icy depths. How the city of Gaolers living below had been cut off from the surface for millennia, living apart from the world for generations after the great calamity that had occurred so many years ago, wiping out their kind that had resided above. They use hushed tones to describe the Spirit of the ice, frozen for all that time, whose awakening had unleashed the forces once again, powerful enough to cleave deep into the glacier and link the Lost City to the world once again. The hatchlings listening to the story ask in nervous whispers what happened to the Spirit, and the adventures describe the great mystery, how many explorers, modern and gaoler alike, had searched the twisting turquoise passageways for years, but with no sign of the lost Spirit. To this day, they tell in a mystical voice, they are still out there, haunting the deepest, darkest depths of the glacial crevasses, their moans and wails heard every time the glacier splits and heaves with its mighty force.