The Wandering Isles - Session 35
The group finally stood before Wulver, the enigmatic figure they had traveled so far to find. Seated upon his throne, he exuded an ancient authority, his presence shifting effortlessly into something more—youthful, powerful, primal. Amaedrianna stepped forward, recounting the battle they had faced days ago, the threat that still lingered. But more than that, she spoke of their journey, the communities they had helped, the people they had fought for. It was a bid for trust, proof that they were not just outsiders passing through.
Wulver listened, measured and silent. Then, the conversation turned to the Lunar Kin—their purpose, their history, their place in the grand design of the world. He spoke of the past, of a time before the Fracture, before the world had been reshaped into what it was now. He was more than just a leader—he was a living piece of history, woven into the very fabric of the Isles.
Each of them had questions. Eos sought the truth of her existence and received an answer in private—a revelation only for her. Hatsu asked if there were others with power hidden across the world, and Wulver pointed him to a distant island where answers lay waiting. Slate, ever searching for his own identity, asked what Wulver knew of him, only to find his own truth still elusive. And when he asked if Wulver would face the entity within his cursed book, Wulver refused without hesitation.
Amaedrianna asked for only one thing: the hunt.
And so, they ran.
The chase was swift and merciless. Amaedrianna, skilled though she was, struggled to match Wulver’s impossible speed, watching as he outpaced even her trained arrow. Slate, reckless and instinctual, took a more direct approach, throwing himself into the fray and claiming his own prize, much to the irritation of another hunter. Eos found a quieter path, walking in step with a wandering badger, removed from the chaos.
Hatsu’s hunt led him into something else entirely. As he moved to take down his prey, his foot caught in a strange, oozing substance, thick and clinging like living tar. He managed to strike down the deer, but before he could move, something else stirred.
A figure emerged from the darkness—almost human, but wrong. A smooth, eyeless skull, jagged teeth, a single elongated arm tipped with cruel fingers, its body wreathed in a strange gas that slithered and pulsed. It did not see—it felt. It hunted by sound.
Hatsu reacted fast, using noise to throw it off, but escape was not an option. The fight began.
Amaedrianna was the first to reach him, striking without hesitation. The creature recoiled, but it was strong, too strong. Slate and Eos arrived in time to join the fray—Slate diving beneath its reach, his blade cutting deep, black ooze spilling onto the snow. Eos raised a hand, and with a single burst of magic, nearly obliterated it.
Hatsu ended it. A swift cut to the throat. Amaedrianna gripped its skull and wrenched, tearing the last of its life away.
The ooze melted, its acrid scent filling the air, disorienting the Lunar Kin who had joined the hunt. Something about it was wrong, unnatural.
Slate knelt beside it, collecting a small sample before they turned back toward Hartwell.
They had come for Wulver. They had come for answers.
But something else had been waiting for them in the dark.
