The slopes of the Eiglophian Mountains stride from east to west across the world, a mighty wall of snow and ice sundering the frozen northlands — Vanaheim, Hyperborea and Asgard — from the warmer kingdoms to the south. In the depth of winter, most of the passes are blocked. With the coming of spring, however, they open, affording barbarians of the north a route by which to raid the civilized south.

The lure of adventure, and a growing boredom with the simple village life of the northlands, have led you to Snow Devil Pass. This is the shortest route south from Vanaheim, and the quickest to open in the spring thaws, but it is ill spoken of. It is named for Snow Devil Glacier, also known as the River of Death Ice, which flows alongside and across the pass on the southern side.

The Vanir speak of the pass with dread, and tell of whole parties which have vanished without a trace. You impatiently dismiss these rumors — the disappearances were likely the result of inexperienced mountaineers blundering into the depths of a crevasse. You see no reason for grown warriors to refer to this place with shudders, dark hints and sidelong glances.

Before you left the northlands, your fellow clansmen presented you with gifts to show their gratitude for your aid during the long winter. Hanging by a thong from your saddle is a new axe of fine Asgard steel, fashioned with a skill rarely seen elsewhere. Atop your head sits a horned steel helm, secured with a leather chin strap — another token of their esteem. By these two possessions, you will long remember the deep northern winter and the proud, barbaric peoples of Vanaheim.

Having breasted the mountain slopes, you rein in at the top of the pass. A fantastic scene is spread out before you.

The sky is a dome of crimson and gold, just beginning to darken with the purple of oncoming evening. The fiery splendor of the dying day paints the white crests of the mountains with a deceptively warm-looking radiance. The titanic glacier, shadowed in deep lavender except where the setting sun picks out sparkles in gold, winds like an icy serpent from the high peaks. It curves in front of the pass, then turns away to dwindle in the foothills and become a flowing stream of water. Rocky slopes rising from the ice river's flanks are dotted with a thin scattering of gnarled, stunted trees. As you descend the pass, you pick your way cautiously past the margin of the glacier, trying to avoid avalanches from the higher slopes as well as the glacier's hidden crevasses. When the path meanders across the surface of the glacier itself, you go gingerly, leading your horse, thrusting the point of your polearm into the snow wherever you suspect it might mask a crevasse. It is important to get down from this mountain before night falls and the temperature plummets.

OOC: Welcome Heimdul!  Make a 3d6 Survival (Mountains) roll, at -4 to your skill because the ice is so treacherous. Also please name your horse a good Vanir name. The weapon is an axe of fine quality (it does 3d+2 cutting damage, $500, 4 lbs), while the domed Asgardian helm has DR 4.

  Ice and snow where all that one would have seen for leagues in any direction. This was the realm of mythical Frost Giants and other creatures that frolicked in the frozen places of the North, or so graybeards related when tales where sun by the light of the hearth, in the long nights of northern winters.

  Into this Alabaster covered landscape, wandered a lone traveler, one who dared to traverse the high pass of Ymir’s domain, and risked the wrath of the deity. A large sturdy horse slowly plotted in snow of the high pass; lead by the giant. each step of foot hoof meant potential disaster from hidden  pitfalls, covered in snow. The traveler was a giant of a figure, the only feature to be exposed was a long beard, the hue of fresh crimson, that danced in the frigid wind that constantly blew. A large skin of brown bear was wrapped about the large man, with a helmet of Asgard design that guarded his head.

 Every so often, the rider, now dismounted, would come to a halt, to he might  thrust the spear he held, into the ground before him, then advance for a time, and repeat the action. He was heard in conversation from time to time, but he was the lone soul in evidence. Perhaps he spoke to some deity or  spirit.

06:40, Today: Heimdul rolled 10 using 3d6-4.  Survival roll.

This message was last edited by the player at 10:41, Tue 22 June 2021.

Bridges of thin snow often mask deep glacial crevasses. The white powder beneath you groans, and you feel yourself falling!

OOC: Roll 3d6 labeled Jumping.

  As the warrior from the far north advanced, a sudden tearing sound smote the air. Heimdul swore an oath, as the ice beneath him broke. All though of the horse obliterated with the single purpose of survival, the warrior leaped  to what he hoped as solid ground.

13:17, Today: Heimdul rolled 13 using 3d6.  Jumping roll.
This message was last edited by the player at 17:21, Tue 22 June 2021.

As the snow-covered ground collapses suddenly beneath your boots, you release your horse’s reins and fling yourself wildly to one side.  The horse rears back, whinnying in fright.

You dive into the powder on more solid ground and rise shakily back to your feet. Dusting yourself off, you gaze down into the newly revealed crack, glimpsing the dark blue depths plunging far, far below.  Shakily, you circle around the crack, rejoin your mount and calm it with gentle strokes and softly murmured words.  And then you collect its reins and continue on...

You cover perhaps another quarter mile when, presently, as you near the end of the ice path, the glacier swings away to your left. The path descends the glacier, then continues down a broad slope, broken by boulders and hummocks, lightly covered with spring snow.

Then a scream of terror makes you whip your head around! A bowshot behind and to your left, where the glacier levels off before beginning its final descent, about a dozen shaggy, hulking creatures ring a white-furred figure.

OOC: Roll 3d6 labeled Vision.
This message was last edited by the GM at 15:13, Wed 23 June 2021.

  The leap caused the Warrior to land on his face in the powered snow. He got to his knees and shook his head to clear the frozen debris, like a red bearded bear, that came out of hibernation. After he got to his feet, Heimdul looked to the glacier, threw back his head and laughed. “Better fortune, next time, Ymir. I yet live.”

 After he had collected his horse, they had traveled but a short distance, when a cry of distress smote the chilled air. He gazed in the direction of the source and be held several figures. He narrowed his eyes against the cold wind for a better look.


17:14, Today: Heimdul rolled 13 using 3d6.  Vision roll
This message was last edited by the player at 21:19, Tue 22 June 2021.

At this distance and with the glare of the setting sun, it's impossible to make out more than a pale face obscured by a mane of brown hair. You think it's a girl…

OOC: Do you choose to intervene in this fight, knowing the delay might possibly strand you on the glacier after nightfall?  Or do you choose to mind your own business and leave the girl to deal with the shaggy brutes herself?

  The sight of several things surrounding what appeared a girl surprised the Warrior. The surprise was not so much of what was happening, but to see others up this high, and in this place. He halted for a few moments and addressed that unseen deity or spirit again. “ Gods above and demons below, seems there be doings over there. Do I get involved and save a wench, and possibly freeze in the night, or do I go, and not freeze?” A hearty laugh. “There be a battle in the offering, and perhaps spoils. Never let be said that Heimdul, son of Ragnar turned down a chance for glory.”

 The Warrior mounted his horse and rode in that direction. If he had his way, Heimdul would halt the beast, dismount, take both axes in hands, then advance upon the others.”  Ho! I am Heimdul of the Vanir.! Son of Ragnar, come and strife with me.!”

This message was last edited by the GM at 16:26, Wed 23 June 2021.

Deciding it would please your gods to face down the girl’s adversaries in heroic combat, you quickly step into the stirrup and swing into the saddle.  You boot the horse forward and surge through the snow toward the drama unfolding ahead…

A spear’s throw before reaching the first of the brutes, you jab your lance into the snow, then spring from the saddle, stumbling several steps into a snow drift before regaining your balance.  You throw off your cloak, take up an axe in each gloved fist and break into a lope, calling out your challenge as you go..

One of the beastmen shouts and pulls at his neighbor's arm, jabbering excitedly. In seconds, they all turn to meet your approach…

There are about a dozen of the beastmen, armed with crude wooden clubs and stone-headed spears and axes. They are short-bodied, thick-limbed creatures, wrapped in tattered, mangy furs. Small, bloodshot eyes glare out from under beetling brows and sloping foreheads. Thick lips draw back to reveal large yellow teeth.

OOC: Heimdul is currently in a snow drift, the snow up to mid thigh.  While traversing the snow drift, his movement is halved. If you opt to charge at full move this turn, roll against DX first and if you fail, you fall down. Otherwise you can advance through the drift. If you opt to attack, designate which target B2 or B3. 


This message was last edited by the GM at 15:29, Thu 24 June 2021.

    The Warrior of the far frozen north had his idea of what he wanted to do, but the fates decided to cast the lots of chance, his way. When he slid off his horse, he found himself up to his waist in snow. If his brothers of his home village, could see this, he could hear their laughter  in his mind. No matter, it was the will of the fates, so he dealt with it.

 Heimdul waded out of the snow, then advanced upon the two closest… what would he call these things? He had never seen their like before, but he had heard the grey beards tell tales of such things that reside in the mountains of the far north. He had the  Bearded hand axe in his right hand, the throwing axe in his left. The lighter axe was not the best choice to parry with, but it would have to do.

 When he closed on his opponent, he did what he always did in battle. He attempted to use his size  and aggressive actions to intimidate. Like a Large  colossus, the Northman moved to the attack. Muscles that  had more speed, than one might think, for one in his size, should have, had won more than one skirmish in his past. The axe was swung by muscled limps that caused the blade to slice the chilled air, as it sought to slash flesh, and bring forth crimson upon the  snow. Heimdul shouted the war cry of his village, as he struck out with axe. “HARRO!!.”

Attack target B2
This message was last edited by the player at 18:22, Thu 24 June 2021.

Though the drift is deep, your long, powerful legs are able to plow through the snow with ease…

Roaring out a booming war cry that rings across the glacial field, you lash out at the nearest of the savages before it can recover from the shock of your charge…  The brute lifts a hand defensively, and you nearly lop it off with the keen edge of your Asgard steel.  Wrist broken and blood flying, the savage staggers back, screaming at the top of its lungs!  It throws its primitive weapons into the snow and cowers beneath you…

For several heartbeats, the scene seems to freeze as the brutes stop dead in their tracks to gape at you … uncertain whether to dare tangle with this murderous Frost Giant, or flee for the hills… For just a split second, you begin to wonder if you will be able to frighten them all off!

But then, one of them breaks into a lope toward you through the snow on short, bow-legs, shouting encouragement in its guttural tongue.  Its rallying cry seems to break the spell, and suddenly the horde is charging...

Ill-tempered and undisciplined, the beastmen charge forward without any semblance of formation…

OOC: You scored a critical hit with your axe and broke B2’s wrist.  It is clearly out of this fight as it looks like all it wants to do is flee for the hills.  B3 has rallied, and is gripping a bone-tipped spear which it appears intent on ramming through you.


This message was last edited by the GM at 01:09, Fri 25 June 2021.

 The battle started with the first bloodletting, and in this case, the crimson upon the snow was that of the one of his antagonists. He had  put one out of the fight, with a swing of his axe blade. Heimdul’s longer legs might be an advantage over these  short bowlegged ones. He Warrior of the far north used his throwing axe in his left hand to block the others expected spear thrust, as he swung the bearded axe towards the second opponent’s chest. “ Harro”! He shouted at the tops of his lungs.

 If he were successful in slaying the  one with the spear, Heimdul would attempt to use his better speed to advantage.
This message was last updated by the GM at 13:30, Sat 26 June 2021.

Recovering from the impetus of your first mighty swing, you do not slow your attacks.  Now you tear through the snow drift and hack viciously at the second brute -- a spearman. The beastman lets out a bark of fear as it jerks up its spear defensively to block, but your keen Asgard steel snaps through the wooden shaft like kindling, shreds through its mangy animal pelts and lays open a deep gash in its right biceps muscle…

The blow hurls the beastman off its feet, and it lands in the snow on its back, shrieking…

On charge the remaining savages, now whooping and hooting in the excitement of the hunt!

OOC: B2 with a broken wrist threw down its weapons and is fleeing.  B3 suffered a tendon/muscle shredding injury to its right arm.  It is laying on its back, physically stunned.  The rest are charging through the snow toward you, some with spears, some with axes, some with clubs.  Your horse has whinnied with fright and trotted off the battle map. The girl sees her opening and is making a run for it.


This message was last edited by the GM at 12:31, Tue 29 June 2021.

 Heimdul turned and sprinted after the bleeding one and then bypassed him. His intent was to use his greater stride to gain distant to turn left and run toward the location of the woman. If one or more of the beastmen got in his path, the worse for them.
This message was last edited by the player at 02:34, Mon 28 June 2021.

In swift order, you have driven off two of your adversaries with bone crushing blows.  Both flee through the snow howling, crimson spatters in their wakes…

But you still face nearly a dozen more beastmen and so you run…

The brutes, now recovered from their initial surprise, interpret your quick-footed flight as fear, so begin employing their tried and true hunting tactics to drive their huge, red-bearded quarry into the heavy snow drifts in hope of slowing you…

You run, your boots kicking up powder…  You glimpse ahead the brown-haired, fur-clad girl is taking advantage of her enemies’ distraction and is stumbling away through the snow.

Suddenly a thrown spear hisses from behind, sailing over your shoulder and missing you by inches.  You duck as the missile sails past you to plunge into the deep snow and disappear...

On they come, hooting and whooping!

OOC: From their joyous whoops and hoots, you sense they are encouraged to see you running instead of fighting. They'd rather fight a deer than a tiger! Roll 3d6 labeled Tactics. If you roll a 3 or 4 PM me before posting, otherwise you fail the roll. B2 and B3 are fleeing.  B4 just threw its spear, but it has axes and clubs to throw or swing.  If you opt to continue fleeing please do your best to describe the direction/route you are taking based on the map.  Beware that the dark gray sections of the map represent deep, powdery snow drifts that may slow you.


This message was last edited by the GM at 12:33, Tue 29 June 2021.

  Heimdul  new the odds did not favor him winning the day, but he cared not. If it were his destiny to fall, it would be in battle. He sprinted to the northwest, where there was large indentation in the cliff face. He would make his stand there. With his back to the cliff, he thought that  these beast men could only come at him two at a time.

 Assuming he was successful in gaining his objective, the  Warrior would turn and shout the war cry of his clan “ HARRO! Come ahead, you dogs. I am  Heimdul, son of Ragnar! My axe well drink well of your blood.”: He then laughed: His words and laughed echoed off the hills.

As the horde of beastmen pelts across the snow toward you, snarling and brandishing their primitive weapons, you know you must seek higher ground to defend yourself.  You quickly scan the cold, wintery landscape with your keen blue eyes, and spy a rocky outcropping rising from a deep snow bank.

Now you take several long running strides through the snow, and then leap high and wide across the drift, landing on the opposite side with a crunch through the icy crust.  Now you whirl about, with the rocky promontory to your back.  Huge and fearsome, you shake both axes in your fists as you throw back your helmed head and roar out another challenge that rings across the wild landscape…

OOC: Heimdul’s jump cleared the snow drift. He is now standing with his back against a 12 foot high rocky prominence.  B5, B6 and B11 have paused at the opposite side of the drift and are taking aim at Heimdul with their spears, though Heimdul’s roar seems to have worried B11, who has slightly lowered the tip of his spear in fear. Two others, B7 and B8 also seemto be reconsidering the wisdom of tangling with this monstrous Frost Giant. The rest of the brutes are fast approaching. The girl sunk to her chest in the drift to the west and is struggling to push her way through. Your horse has trotted off out of sight.


This message was last edited by the GM at 12:35, Tue 29 June 2021.

  Having made it to where he wanted to be, the warrior taunted the beast men, or whatever they were, by means of pointing at them, and laughing. He made motions for them to advance upon him, all the while, hurling insults in his native tongue and Hyperborean. Heimdul hope to drive them to rash action and advance upon him, or even better yet, charge.

If your roared insults and challenges are meant to evoke a response from the savages, you succeed in your goal.  For the beastmen are whipped up into a crazed frenzy of rage…  One of the savages yanks a flint-headed axe from the hide cord about its waist and leaps into the snow drift, jabbering furiously.  It sinks to its chest in the high powder and begins wrestling and struggling its way forward...

Two other brutes fling their spears simultaneously, both sailing across the short distance with perfect accuracy, forcing you to go on the defensive!


This message was last edited by the GM at 12:35, Tue 29 June 2021.

 Heimbul dodges one of the spear, the other he batted aside, with his bearded axe. He laughed again, and did the "C'mon gesture with his arms. The insults continued to fly in two different languages. He did his best to keep the one beast man advancing in the drift between him and any other wanna be spear casters.

08:17, Today: Heimdul rolled 12 using 3d6.  Parry b6.

08:15, Today: Heimdul rolled 9 using 3d6.  Doge 5 spear. Burn the fatigue point.

As the two spears fly in at you, you manage to twist away from the first, and knock the second out of the air with your axe.  You beckon the mob to dare come close, and they oblige…  Goaded on by your taunting, three of the beastmen let out bestial barks and leap into space, trying to clear the drift, sinking to their chests in the deep, powdery snow…

Another brute heaves its own spear and it sails in at you, sharp point streaking low for your legs!

OOC: B4 with an axe, is wrestling through the snow and trying to clamber out of the drift on your side.  B5 and B6, armed with stone axes, also jumped into the deeps and are struggling their way through. B11, with a spear, tried to jump the drift, but fell in deep and appears trying to clamber free on your side.  Across the way, the girl has managed extricate herself from the drift and is still trying to get away.  B8 accurately threw a spear at you. If you do not defend it (as detailed in prior instructions) you get hit in the thigh for 7 points and the spear remains stuck in you.  Be sure to declare exactly what type of defense you are taking, whether or not you use ‘extra effort’ and do roll the dice for me. Note, the spear you knocked down is laying in the snow at your feet.  Note, if you do not start eliminating the enemy, they are going to swarm you and butcher you. I noted you only decided to post defense and took no offensive action. If you would rather I start choosing your tactics and rolls, to avoid all the rules, stuff, let me know.


This message was last edited by the GM at 17:26, Tue 29 June 2021.