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Sarrick did not like this place. There was no metal here, even the metal of the ground was endlessly distant beneath ice and water. Chamon blew weak in this place, and it made him feel... vulnerable. Weak. He masked such feelings of course. Only the gods themselves would know, but he still detested the feeling. He envied his fellow warlords, the certainty they could derive from their physical power, even if it in turn limited them. Only the younger mage, Narvoch, would perhaps understand his worries, the simultaneous thrill from and dependence on the winds of magic.
He cast runes, almost subconsciously, the runes engraved in them flashing and sparking as the bones rattled against one another. His scouts told him there were others to the north. Who they were he knew not, though few enough would venture onto the ice of the Sea of Chaos that it was easy enough to guess. The only question was what direction they had come from. Norscan, Kurgan or Hung, though if the latter a tribe so removed from his own they could hardly be called the same people. The runes told him little, as they had so often since the start of this strange quest. He wondered if their 'guide' was somehow interfering with his castings.
Meanwhile, behind him a great sea beast died. It was trapped within walls of ice. Whichever way it looked, Norscans and Hung drew back, shouting taunts and crashing weapons against shields. Whichever way it did not look men rushed forwards to throw axes and spears. Great tentacles crashed against the ice, even a hundred paces off Sarrick felt the impact beneath his feet and heard the ice groan. Even the great beast did not have the strength the ocean's crust though, and for all its power its rage was impotent. The hardy men of the north laughed as they killed it, competing to see who could get closer, who could dodge back later. An odd few judged poorly, and were dragged into the ice pool or crushed to bloody smears against the ice. Weak ones, for poor judgement was a greater a weakness than brittle bones or scrawny limbs could ever be.
A fine proving ground for the warriors of chaos. No doubt the spoils of their hunt would bring great prestige. He still hated this place.
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Moves attached. Some guys to move into position to kill the next squid. The southern grouping all head back to their ships, as do the bondsmen on the central island, leaving the north most ship to be used by the huscarls later.
Considering the play may be to leave the other hunter alone. They do their thing, we do ours. Plenty of monsters to do round and fighting them seems a waste of time when we have a proper civilizations to destroy to our south.
