Korag Blackice

Korag Blackice

Vengeance is a dish best served cold.

A thunderous report broke through the night, another pine shattering as the chill air bit hard. “They’ll be coming soon”, rumbled elder Korgul. “The men are ready. They will fall to our steel!”, growled Kornak, Korgul’s son and master smith for the tribe. Korgul grunted, not so sure, but determined to let Kornak’s confidence and determination bolster the tribe.

Father and son left the warmth of the long house, immediately assaulted by air devoid of any warmth. The night air was too cold to support any moisture and the stars blazed clearly above. Except to the north where a storm approached eating the stars one by one.

The men stood above the pitch-filled trench, the bright steel of their swords and axes reflecting the torchlight. The women readied their bows, steel tipped arrows thirsty for blood. The air became still, a blanket of silence falling on the waiting figures.

The wall of fury approached, and then struck the line, a hammer of wind and ice. The outline of giant shapes, the walkers, crystalized into the enigmatic monsters themselves. But, unlike other migrations, they were not alone. Demonic shapes formed of pure crystal, barely visible ran at the walkers heels. Undaunted, faith in the secret of steel strong, the Korglanders swung on the approaching figures.

As each sword or axe struck its mark, the bright steel exploded, showering them all with brittle shards. The demons struck, reaching out a translucent hand to touch each defenders heart. One by one the humans flesh turned clear, only the steel slivers embedded by the destruction of their weapons remaining solid.

Their numbers dwindling, the men lost hope. The women fired steadily but the demons proved immune to their missiles. Soon the line was breached and the demons were among the women, wreaking their havoc.

Kornak’s weapon, the great axe Walker Bane, imbued with all the powers available to him, withstood the icy touch of the demons for a time. But each strike chilled it a bit more until it too shattered. Kornak fought on, using the wood handle as a club, but his heart fell as he faced his own father, now transformed. He had no choice but to destroy his father or die. In agony he called on the spirit of Korgsland, promising not only his own service but that of all generations to come if only he could be granted the power to defeat his enemies and revenge his now devastated tribe.

At first his cries and promises vanished into the fury of the storm. He was beset on all sides by demons and transformed, no longer able to do any more then fend them off for a time. Just as he felt he could keep up the defense no longer, an enormous polar bear swept his attackers away like so many leaves with one mighty swipe. A icy blue light emanated from the bears eyes. A walker strode forward to do battle and the bear leapt up in a mighty bound, rending its throat with its teeth.

The walkers and their demonic allies sensed that this was an enemy they could not face and with supernatural quickness, they withdrew under cover of their storm, taking the transformed with them. The great bear turned to Kornak, its eyes demanding and merciless. Kornak got to his knees and bowed his head to the earth. The bear came closer, jaws wide and Kornak knew what was required. He put his head in the jaws of the great spirit, and as the last thing he felt was their closing.

When he awoke, he was utterly alone in the village of his birth. There were no signs of attackers or defenders. No bodies, no corpses, not even the children who had been sheltered in the long hall were to be found. He was unharmed and in fact felt a great energy coursing throughout his body. No signs of damage although the memory of those great jaws closing on him was clear. At first he lingered in the village, but soon the absences of the others became a palpable pain, and so he gathered a few things, including the stock of Walker Bane, and set out south.

He eventually came across another village that accepted him as one of their own. He met a women, fell in love and had a family of his own. It seemed he would be able to live out his life in joy, but a dark shadow fell over the new village, with people disappearing with increasing frequency. Kornak found himself waking up out in the wilderness covered in blood. At first he tried to deny what was plain to see. The great spirit was taking him, and using him to hunt innocents. This then, was the price he must pay for his vengeance.

The village elders met and determined that a dark curse was on Kornak. Not wanting to cross whatever dark power infested him, they exiled Kornak and his family, dooming them to a life of wandering. Kornak traveled further and further south, hoping to outrun the reach of the great spirit, but no matter where they went, eventually he would once more wake up covered with the blood of innocents. Meanwhile Kornak taught his son and daughter never to rely on the steel that had failed him so. Instead they learned to use their bodies as weapons.

Both children carried the curse, proving out that he was being held to the promise he had made. Greata, embraced the spirit as a gift. She learned to control the transformations and took great joy in the hunt. The more pure and innocent the prey, the more she enjoyed it. She shunned the villages, except as hunting grounds.

Korald, his son, fought against the dark urges, using meditation and training to control the dark urges. At first he thought he had overcome the curse. He settled long enough to found a family of his own, but then one cold night he lost the battle to the great spirit and slaughtered dozens.

Ashamed, he chose self-exile, abandoning his own wife and son, leaving behind only Walkers Bane, bequeathed to him by his father in hopes that one day the family would be worthy of it once more. Kornak had reshaped it as a carven staff. However, its power was no longer open to him as long as he held the curse.

Wealda, alone with her child Korag, decided the only way to break the chain was to send her toddler away to the southlands across the sea. She paid one of the merchants from Tuefeldorf to take her son, leaving him only a handful of gold and Walker’s Bane.

Ignorant of its potential, Korag kept it throughout the years as his only link to a forgotten family. He was filled with an overwhelming desire to master himself. Perfecting his body and mind through discipline. He had rumors of monasteries devoted to perfection in the pursuit of martial arts. Slinging Walkers Bane over his shoulder he headed into the city.