Common Worlds

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Ice Fist relented at the proud and fierce defiance from the Heroes. "I am merciless, but even so I recognize debts I owe. So each of you may ask some boon of me. Have a care not to ask of me such things I cannot provide!"

Garusharp requested the aid of Ice Fist at some time in the future. The spirit sucked in a huge breath and hacked up a ball of ice. "Break this at your time of need and I will come. Once. Be certain you want me."

Oshun asked for a share of Ice Fist's Magic, and received a spirit fetish.

Ice Fist turned away from the lunars who acted as his "councillors" and the one who is his daughter. He casually trampled a few of the surviving supporters of the councillors, some froze solid as he passed, and several of the goat men got actively stamped into an icy paste as he took out his displeasure on them. The Llama riders, being mounted, generally escaped with better grace than the goat men and the servants to the councillors, though some of Gerendtho's sons used their odd magic to escape successfully.
Members of the Rass hero band were scattered around the chamber, fighting, injured, frozen or worse.

Here, now, even in the dark, they look different than they have when any of you have passed them. Viewed from the safety and distance of the Praxian plains, the ruins looked grey, cracked and less than whole. They gleamed in the Praxian sun, but seemed broken and, well, ruined.

Before you now is the Winter Palace, huge and ominous in the dark and cold. Viewed in the reddish light of the nearly-full moon, sheer and nearly shear walls of gleaming grey, white and bluish marble rise out of the top of the plateau. The shape is vaguely reminiscent of a earthly 17th century star fort. (Not that the Heroes know what one of those is.)

But the Palace is taller than any ground-hugging star fort, rising over 100 feet into the cold, still air.

Leaving the Temple of Eiritha, she speaks to you:

There is some watcher at the walls of winter
Fed on what the moaning wind has sung
In marble halls, cold, cracked, crushed.
He knows the lasting strife of tears,
And the way the world is strung.

The Heroes came to the greatest altar of Eiritha, where they found a ceremony with dozens of priestesses already ongoing. They entered a great cavern with many pillars around its center, each pillar a representation of one of Eiritha's beasts, including ones not seen in the world since the beginning of time.

it seemed that most priestesses present were High Llama tribeswomen. Several different priestesses demanded answers:

Where is the thing you seek?

Which of us is the greatest mother?

Before the doors of a great subterranean chamber, an old woman sat under a lacy, cobwebbed awning. With keen eyes staring at them, she questioned each of the heroes. First, she spoke to the Axe Sisters.

"Chains. Ftheh. Release them. I prefer threads, the warp and weft, the strings, the webs that bind us all to our places, our attachments. I taught the mothers how to weave, and in that, bound them to their fates. Who knows who I am?

"How can you know the nature of a being? By his deeds? By his loves? By his Enemies?

Disorientation, darkness, then a grayish light and the crowding presence of innumerable voices and eyes. They speak as one, filling your mind, your very essence. They are inside you, and know you better than you do.

You were born of a fraction of the power of our family. But we are more and you must be more.

You trust in your intellect. But where is your wisdom?

You count yourself loyal, our willing tool. But we are not in need of a servant.

Our household is rudderless, without direction. It is a ship pushed before whatever wind hits it.

Garusharp Banaru steps into the River of Tears and sees a long forgotten lover beckoning from the hareem door. Without hesitation, he enters and is overwhelmed with the sadness he feels at being away from her bed.

"Sweet, impulsive Garusharp. I recall you well, from the moment you crossed the hareem wall. How I've missed your presence in my bed. Time has been hard on you, I see. Where is the sly, slim boy who first stole my heart? Ah, well I know we all gain scars...."

As she leads you toward her bed, her tone changes, becoming harsher. "Yes, I well recall your name, but tell me...."