By Luka Tomasdottir, Vigil Scribe
"May our voices never be broken, may our voices be our own."
I first heard these words uttered by a travelling kodan outside Rime Moraine deep in the heart of Frostgorge. He was a stranger to that place, clearly uncomfortable with the ways of the kodan that called the place home. Aiding Thunder was his name, and he hailed from a place I had only heard of in story and legend: Drakkar Lake.
Well, that is not entirely accurate; he didn't introduce himself as Aiding Thunder; his exact words were "Aiding Thunder, of Still Waters Speaking.
Still Waters Speaking. I had never heard of such a Sanctuary. I told him. He clarified that it was not the name of a Sanctuary, though his people had indeed come from one far in the north. A Sanctuary with no name he remembered, no records written, and an oral history lost to time.
The kodan seemed wistful, a flicker of light in his eyes that quickly gave way to a deep sense of foreboding. Loss is a troublesome concept among kodan society; there are a great many things that once were, but no longer. A great many things that once put the kodan above all, but... well, not anymore.
I inquired further, but Aiding Thunder seemed nervous about my interest. He was particularly averse to my questions about where exactly his home was, as if simply revealing its location on a map might immediately turn it into a premier tourist destination. I assured him my interests were purely academic, and several hours of gentle coaxing seemed to ease the kodan's troubled mind.
The settlement that would one day become Still Waters Speaking began as a kodan Sanctuary long ago, one of their many ice cities floating atop the bone-chilling waters north of the Far Shiverpeaks. These ancient cities had held since the previous Elder Dragon awakening, what the kodan refer to as "The Dragonstorm." At the time, they believed the massive floating landmasses to be a gift from Koda—recompense for their suffering as the rest of the world was purged by the Elder Dragons.
These cities stood for thousands of years, impervious to the elements. But sadly, not from Jormag. The rising seas and terrifying creatures destroyed the Sanctuaries, driving the kodan south. A group of kodan from one of these Sanctuaries gathered on a ship built from timber, a rarity that far north, and turned their gaze southward. They would follow the maps of their greatest explorers and seek shelter in the mountains.
But the maps had not accounted for Jormag's awakening. Rivers turned to lakes. Mountains to valleys. And the kodan found themselves shipwrecked deep in the Far Shiverpeaks, their ship locked in the ice and snow. They had stumbled into Drakkar Lake.
And the lake was whispering.
Shadow in the Ice: A Hunger for Knowledge — Discover 5 books around West Bjora Marches. (5
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