Frost Wyrm Saga 4

Frost Wyrm Saga 4 is an encounter in The Savage North. It comes after Frost Wyrm Saga 3 or Frost Wyrm Saga 5.
==Enemies==
==Transcript==
===Introduction===
“During the Drake War, one of the dragons went to Nordent. She would have taken the same passage we used.”
“Kalaxia,” Rakshara says. “The one we spoke of before – the Far-Seer.”
“Yes. A blue dragon...”
“And when she appeared, the Frost Wyrm Nords believed their prophecy had been fulfilled?”
“They’d spent generations waiting for a blue wyrm to come to them, whilst other tribes mocked them. Remember that dragons hadn’t been seen in West Kruna for millennia. So when they returned, when Kalaxia appeared to them, what else were they to think?”
“A cunning ploy by the dragons,” Brachus says, “playing on human superstitions.”
“Except that she wasn’t. Not exactly. That’s what some of the stories say – that she was just using the Frost Wyrm Clan, deceiving them so that they’d wage war against the dragons’ enemies. But Lucian the Scholar was there when the Dragon-Rider confronted her. In his chronicles, he wrote that she believed the prophecy herself. She thought she’d come to lead them to victory, that destiny was on her side.”
Even as the words leave your lips you feel something writhe within you. Deluded by destiny...
You gesture for your companions to fan out and prepare for battle, before any of them can perceive the disquiet on your face.
You’re on open snow now. No ambushes. No deception. Just battle...
A war cry splits the air when you mount a rise and come in sight of the Nords. Your gaze sweeps across the band, watching for any that might try to run for reinforcements. But the Bold Wolf Clan aren’t cowards. None of them would relinquish a chance at battle...
They charge at the same moment you do.
===Conclusion===
The Nord warrior splutters laughter as he slides from your blade. The broken mail links of his sundered hauberk scrape against the weapon’s steel, lending a screeching accompaniment.
You stare down at his dead face, wondering what could have amused him so. Thus you only see the flash of movement at the edge of your vision at the last moment.
Raw martial instinct makes you whirl and sends your sword through the air just in time to meet muscle and bone. A berserker’s hand and axe fall in the snow. He roars, but not in pain.
His other axe cleaves towards your face, eager to bury itself in your features. Your blade flashes once more. A second hand and weapon fall beside the first pair.
You pull your sword back, preparing for a thrust to put him out of his misery. But the berserker isn’t done yet...
Blood splashes in your face, sprays your eyes. It’s only as crimson veils your vision that you understand the savage ridiculousness of what’s happened. He aimed his stumps at you, used his own lifeblood as a weapon...
Something smashes against your skull. Flashes of white and yellow light explode among the redness. Even in the midst of the disorientation, the pain and blindness, there’s laughter deep inside your mind. You chopped his hands off, so he headbutted you. There’s nothing quite like a berserker.
You wipe your sleeve across your eyes, smearing the blood away. Your sight returns just in time to see the Nord’s deranged, bloodthirsty face as he pulls his head back for another strike.
It doesn’t come.
Instead his head splits down the middle, leaving each part lolling on his neck like the halves of a freshly cut melon. The sundered features are still locked in a murderous grimace as he collapses.
“What were you saying before, about berserkers? Hush asks, hefting his cleaver.
You decide to treat the question as rhetorical.
Category:The Savage North