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little-mad · 2 years

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So I had a bit of free time since it's spring break so I decided to write a little something about these ocs I posted about a few days ago. I whipped it up pretty fast but I hope it's still enjoyable.

Anita had been stupid. At least that’s what Beatrice would say were she able to see her younger sister now. Stupid for wandering out past the thicket which surrounded the village’s territory, stupid for trying to cross a ravine, and even stupider for letting herself slip and fall down said ravine.

She would’ve been dead and gone had she not landed on an outcropping a fourth of the way down, rather than plummeting all the way to the bottom. Instead she was left to lay on the hard stone ledge, her body throbbing with pain, and her consciousness quickly slipping away.

As black splotches began to invade her vision, Anita couldn’t bring herself to regret embarking on this short lived mission. Okay, maybe she regretted being so careless as to get herself in such a shitty situation, but what she didn’t regret was leaving the village in the first place. She needed to know if there were any other humans left somewhere, for her own sake, as well as that of her village.

“You’ll never find out if you die here,” Anita’s thoughts helpfully reminded her. Of course they weren’t wrong, but she was beginning to feel as though it was too late to prevent such a fate. Sure, she hadn’t died upon impact, but maybe the sleep that was stealing over her now was not just sleep, but the eternal sleep. Maybe these were her last moments left alive. She didn’t have enough experience with dying to know for sure.

Rather than thinking something meaningful in what very well may have been her last breaths, Anita’s brain instead oh-so-cleverly conjured up the words “the ground feels like it’s thundering” before she completed her slow fade into unconsciousness.

People rarely went this deep into the Wrenfeld Woods, and it was primarily due to the fact that a large section of it was completely inaccessible. A circle of firethorn bushes surrounded a chunk of the forest, and because one tiny scratch from one of the shrub’s signature thorns was deadly poisonous, nobody bothered to even risk proximity to the things.

Ordinarily, Micah would be among those people. Despite what Hayden might say, he wasn’t the type to actively seek out unnecessary danger. He would have happily spent the rest of his life never wandering into the Wrenfeld Woods, that is, if he had not become in sudden and dire need of a rare herb which only grew in these woods, within a couple yards of the firethorn thicket.

And so, despite his reservations, Micah had made the trek deep into the untamed forest. After a few scrapes and bumps, he had actually managed to locate the small crevice described in the book on local botany that Hayden had “borrowed.” Apparently the herb he needed grew best in mostly dark places, and this particular fissure in the earth was one of the few nearby sites where it had been recorded to grow in decent abundance.

Once he had set aside his satchel and rolled up his sleeves, Micah knelt down next to the large crack. The thick canopy of the forest, in addition to a steadily building layer of cloud cover, provided him with very little light. The whole crevice was cast in shadows, meaning he had no chance of seeing any plants that may be growing on the bottom.

“Suppose I’ll just have to reach in,” Micah muttered to himself, none too pleased with the idea of plunging his hand blindly into a hole that very well could be infested by venomous snakes or some other manner of deadly creature. But the image in his mind of a sick, bed-ridden eleven year old girl pushed him onward.

After taking in a nice long breath to psyche himself up, Micah began to slowly lower his left hand into the dark fissure. However, he didn’t make it very far before his middle finger collided with something…strange. Micah instantly recoiled. He had no idea what he’d touched, but it definitely hadn’t felt anything like the rock, dirt, and leaves he had been expecting to encounter.

Leaning in as close as possible without falling over, Micah managed to make out the shape of what he assumed to be the object he’d made contact with. It was still difficult to see in the dark, but he was just able to make out a faint outline laying on a small rock ledge. To his surprise, the top line of the figure appeared to be rising up and down, almost as though it was breathing.

“An animal then?” Micah pondered mentally. Though, it was smaller than a rabbit, or a squirrel even. Possibly a mouse? But then again, it hadn’t felt like a mouse. It had been soft, but not soft like fur, the texture had been more akin to fabric, strangely enough.

Trepidation forgone for the sake of curiosity, Micah reached back down again. This time, rather than pulling away, he allowed his fingers to settle over the creature, taking in the tactile sensations. Once again he felt the unusual fabric-like texture, but his ring finger also brushed against strands of something sleek. He was also taken aback by just how slight and delicate the animal’s form was.

Running away from home at thirteen and living off of scraps for a while meant Micah was pretty familiar with mice and rats. They were small of course, but even the more malnourished ones hadn’t seemed anything like this. Whatever this creature was, it felt so diminutive Micah was afraid just a slight amount of pressure on his part would snap it in two.

The steady up and down movement Micah could feel under his hand indicated that the animal was still alive, but the lack of response to his touch meant it probably wasn’t conscious. As small as it was, it was most definitely a prey animal, and prey animals usually weren’t especially deep sleepers, which led Micah to believe this creature wasn’t just taking a late afternoon nap.

Instincts honed by years of running a makeshift orphanage kicked in and Micah became overcome with an intense urge to help and protect whatever this tiny animal was. He was no veterinarian, but surely whatever he could offer was better than leaving it stuck in this hole.

And so, with as much tact and caution as he could muster, Micah wrapped his fingers around the animal’s body and carried it upwards. The fact that it remained limp as he did so seemed to further prove his theory that it was not merely sleeping.

Honestly, Micah wasn’t sure what he had been expecting to see when he brought the creature up out of the darkness. Maybe some sort of unique species that only lived in the Wrenfeld Woods and so had thus far remained undiscovered. Or maybe even something completely normal that would force him to feel rather foolish for having gotten so carried away. Either way, he could say with absolute certainty that what he did end up seeing was something he would never in a million years have predicted.

Micah took in a sharp breath, the muscles in his hand seizing so much he nearly lost his grip on the miraculous creature he was holding. There, wrapped up in his fingers, was no mere animal. It was a tiny person–more specifically a tiny woman. She had relatively fair skin that contrasted against the deep black hair that fell across her face; and she was dressed in a miniature outfit which consisted of a forest green blouse, brown leather trousers, and a beige cloak which hung from her narrow shoulders.

“It can’t be,” he breathed as he stared down at the impossible woman. There was no such thing as tiny people, not anymore. The humans which had once occupied the world alongside Micah’s kind had been declared extinct around a century ago. The lands they had once inhabited had long since been taken over and repurposed. So what in the world was a living, breathing human doing in the middle of, what was to them, a gigantic forest?

Micah held his breath as the little woman suddenly stirred ever so slightly. He watched with wide eyes as her eyebrows scrunched together for a moment, as if caught in a troublesome dream, before her expression evened out once again.

It was at this moment that Micah finally took notice of the state the woman’s tiny body was in. Almost every section of skin which was exposed seemed to possess some kind of scratch or bruise. A thin line of blood trailed down from somewhere around her hairline, dripping off her jaw and onto her chest. And those were just the external injuries, who knew what else could be damaged on the inside.

“Okay.” Human or not, Micah’s original intention wasn’t about to change. This woman was clearly hurt and in need of care. He had no way of knowing whether there were other humans around or if she was the only one left of her kind. Without any first-aid supplies on his person, his only option was to bring her back home with him and treat her there.

Slowly, so as to not agitate the human, Micah reached over to his satchel and opened up one of the internal pockets. What was small to him, would be big enough to hold the human with room to spare. He couldn’t risk carrying her in his hand. Aside from the potential of somehow dropping her, there was also the fact that, once he got into town, he couldn’t very well have her out in the open to be seen by anyone.

As gently as possible, Micah deposited the human into the inside pocket of his satchel. Just as he was about to close it up, he was reminded of the reason he’d come out into the woods in the first place.

Hurriedly, with all former anxiety concerning the contents of the crevice abandoned, Micah reached back down into the dark space. Sure enough, his fingers did reach to the very bottom, and it wasn’t long before they made contact with something leafy. With ease, Micah ripped up the plant, and the moment he brought it into the light he could tell it was the one he had been looking for.

Rather than placing the herb inside his satchel as he had been originally planning, he decided instead to simply hold onto it in the hopes of providing the human with a more comfortable ride. He had no idea when she would wake up, but he certainly didn’t want to be responsible for any additional bumps and bruises when she did.

With the strap of the satchel across his chest, and the bag itself resting against his left hip, Micah began what would be a very slow and very careful journey back into the city. As he went, he found himself wondering many things, but the one thought his mind kept repeating was, “How am I supposed to explain this to Hayden?”

#g/t writing #g/t story #g/t #giant/tiny #ocs

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gryfon-spanish-werewolf · 4 years

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So You Can Always Find Me

Couldn’t disappoint @elsa-agdardottir when they’re such a great enabler. Unfortunately the fic in which I want to put the astronomical ring isn’t quite ready to be published yet, but I didn’t want to leave you hanging, especially when you asked so nicely xD. Soft inspired by @vago-art‘s piece here also.

Rating: M

Tags: Blood and Injury, post-Frozen 2 derivative

Words: 4,119

Characters: Anna, Elsa, Olaf, Kristoff, Sven, Nokk, Gale, Earth Giants, Bruni

Hook: “Now we can’t fail,” Kristoff jokes, trying to ease the tension. “He’s counting on us. Literally.”

“And so is Elsa.” Anna looks out into the forest that yawns before them, then digs the ring out of her pocket. She holds it out before them like a compass needle, the flickering hues of her sister’s magic leading them on.

Wind whips past Anna’s cold-numbed ears as Sven picks up speed, galloping across the snowy trail. They couldn’t risk traveling by lantern light, so she and Kristoff were picking their way through the darkness by the gleam of a blue-glowing bauble - a ring with an expanded center that whirls like a pinwheel as they race headlong into the night.

“Stop Kristoff, right here!” The little glint of magic in the center ring has just swung wildly to the left, leaning away from the delicate chain being gripped firmly by Anna’s hand.

She swings herself out of the sleigh before Sven even stops moving, catching herself with one hand on the ground. The magic pulses, dimmer this time.

“Anna?” Olaf’s voice is weak, so unfamiliar in comparison to his normal jubilance. His little stick arm waves above the rail of the sleigh. “Are we here? Did we make it?”

“I... I think so Olaf,” Anna calls back, palming the ring and putting it into her travel cloak.

“Then I’m coming too,” Olaf says, and she hears him trying to get up.

“Whoa whoa there,” Kristoff warns, laying a hand down into the sleigh. “You stay here. Someone has to make sure Sven doesn’t wander off.” He chucks a thumb over his shoulder and Sven grunts what he thinks about that comment.

“He’s right Olaf, you need to rest.” Anna approaches the side rail, heart squeezing in her chest.

Olaf had started flurrying hours ago.

They’d been preparing for bed. Olaf was picking out a book to read and was reaching above his head, one hand holding his other arm up way high, when he suddenly dropped the book and more came tumbling down after. Anna was about to shake it off as typical Olaf clumsiness when the snowman didn’t immediately burst out of the pile with a laugh. Instead they had to unbury him, and when they did Anna had grabbed Kristoff’s shoulder hard enough to bruise.

She couldn’t do this again.

Olaf’s snow had turned the color of roadside slush, tossed up by carriage wheels and horse hooves. He did sit up, but slowly, gently, as though he were exhausted. Little snowflakes sloughed off his form and twinkled in the candlelight. Olaf and Anna exchanged a wordless look and Anna had bolted upright, digging in the nightstand drawer for the ring.

The one heavy as a lodestone in her pocket.

She leans over Olaf and kisses him on top of his carrot nose. “You sit tight, we’ll find her,” she sniffs, smiling through her tears. “We’ll be back so quickly you won’t even notice we’re gone. Ten minutes, tops.”

“I’ll hold you to that,” Olaf smiles back. Then he started counting backwards from six hundred.

Anna turns away and wipes at her eyes. A warm arm falls over her shoulders and pulls her in for a hug. “Now we can’t fail,” Kristoff jokes, trying to ease the tension. “He’s counting on us. Literally.”

It had been a gift from Elsa. She’d commissioned it ages ago, soon after the Great Thaw, but the right materials had to be procured, the right master craftsman located, and the right price named. The last part had mattered the least, but the rest were very normal, worldly things and as time passed Elsa had worried the perfect gift would somehow not arrive on an auspicious enough occasion. In the end it was meant to be a birthday gift, but with the events occurring in the third year of their reconnection, Elsa could really see no better time like the present. Elsa had bestowed it on Anna after her coronation ceremony, the castle asleep, Olaf and Kristoff making sure everyone had gotten home for the night. She had hidden it behind her back in a charming black box lined with velvet.

The ring was gold, carved with Arendelle’s famous crocuses and the sunflowers Anna loved so much. Immediately Anna had insisted she put it on, but Elsa stopped her. “Open it,” she said, guiding Anna’s fingers to the multiple, overlapping edges. With a quick flick the ring popped open in the palm of her hand, revealing a free turning, miniature astronomical globe made of smaller, concentric gold rings. They were also engraved: marking signature constellations, runes, and star signs. “And one more thing.” Elsa tapped the ring and Anna saw beads of her magic coalesce to one point, drawn from the metal like rolling beads of water. Elsa stepped to the side, then further away. Anna sat transfixed as the glowing blue orb shifted along golden curves, skipping between rings as it tracked Elsa around the room.

“So you can always find me,” Elsa had said as she placed the ring and its accompanying necklace over Anna’s head.

Now, Anna rebinds the chain around her wrist, the metal cold against her skin, hoping against hope that Elsa had spoken the truth.

This part of the Enchanted Forest is unfamiliar. Dark trees stretch and claw at the overcast sky. Snow crunches underfoot, louder than it ought to. Anna keeps a close eye on the ring, watching for any new signs. Elsa’s personal snowflake spins slowly in the center, silent. They walk without speaking, the quiet around them stifling.

After a few more minutes Kristoff nudges Anna’s shoulder and points ahead. A faint shimmering is coming from the trees a short distance away, winking in and out like fireflies. They dash ahead, coming to an obstacle of unwelcome familiarity. A mist wall billows before them, an opaque curtain taller than the peaks of Arendelle castle, nebulous and shifting with each draft of bitter wind. Anna checks the ring and her heart drops. The magic still urges them onwards, but now their path is blocked.

“What’s all this?” Kristoff nudges a snowdrift with his boot. Footprints are scattered in every direction, twigs are snapped and dead leaves poke through large indents in the snow, as though something warm had lain there. Though it must have been only briefly, because all the footprints led away from the wall, many of them in a hurry. Even more curious was the strange gap between the wall and the prints themselves, as though some force had pushed whoever had been here away and not let them closer.

“I don’t know,” Anna replies, “but I don’t like it. These aren’t Northuldra shoes, they’re too heavy.” A chill went down her spine that had nothing to do with the cold.

“Elsa was able to get through this before,” Kristoff scratches the back of his head, “but she’s on the other side now.” He puts his hand up to the mist, not deep enough to bounce back, just enough to let it coat his gloved fingers. Anna understands his frustration. Family - the weird, lopsidedly happy thing they’ve made over the last few years - is beyond this wall, and behind, fading away in a sleigh, both far from home. And they’re helpless to do anything about it.

“She just,” he makes a whooshing noise while his hand skates upward, “and it lifted. I really hope it wasn’t some spirit thing because I wouldn’t even know where to start trying to find the others.”

“Maybe,” Anna gazes upwards. The edges of the wall dissolve into the clouded night sky, seeming to go on forever. “Or maybe that’s exactly what we need.”

She tentatively pushes her hand forward, cautious of the repulsion effect that seemed to sling things out as quickly as they were slung in. A smile burst forth when, incredibly, the wall didn’t immediately reject her. An opening appears, not as tall or grandiose as the first time, but enough of a tunnel for her to walk through.

“Anna…” Kristoff breathes, voice low in wonder. “How did you do that?”

Anna shrugs sheepishly. “I’m half spirit? Blood related to one? A bridge has two sides?” she offers, but then shakes her head. “I’m not really sure, it was just a feeling. I remember how you and Olaf were repelled by the first wall, but I never actually got to touch it. Elsa did, and the whole thing opened up for us.”

“Well I’m glad it did.” Kristoff extends his arm and gives her the lead, “We should move.”

Anna takes his hand and they enter the tunnel single file, the entrance closing behind them.

Time disappears. They could have walked for seconds or hours, but there was nothing around them that indicated that the outside world as they knew it existed at all. The tunnel continued before them at the same rate that it ended behind them. Then, a blue glow shone from Anna’s cloak. “The ring!” Anna fumbled with cold fingers to pop the device open, and when she succeeded it cast an eerie glow on the walls around them. She holds it up with both hands; it’s brighter than before, and the snowflake spins just a little faster. “Elsa must be close,” Anna says, and takes a step forward.

A section of the ceiling falls like a stone, landing between them in a plume of vapor.

“Kristoff!” Anna whirls, already feeling the skidding of her feet as the mist pushes her away. She sees it pulling at him too, his body already obscured by thick vapor, but in the opposite direction.

“Find her, Anna!” Kristoff yells, trying to cut through the barrier with great scoops of his hands, but to no avail. His voice fades as the distance grows larger and he cups his hands to his mouth, “Bring her home!”

More mist descends and the force is stronger, shoving her along as Anna tries to keep her balance. The ring bobs ahead of her, turning the mist into a galaxy of stars, whistling past her ears. Her journey ends abruptly when Anna is thrust back into the forest at high speed. She takes a moment to steady herself, and puts the ring on her finger, before looking around.

Her throat closes up.

If the forest had seemed dark and full of shadows before, then this was a nightmare.

Large ice walls loom overhead, their edges windswept and sharp. Entire tree trunks are frozen mid-snap, suspended by the thick ice that encases them. Swords, hatchets, lances, and crossbows litter the ground, bolts are buried in trees and ice, and broken against the side of boulders. Helmets sit upturned and waterlogged, banners drip with the acrid smell of seawater. Weapon sheaths, coats, and boots hang from the uppermost branches of trees, wayward and wild in their adornment.

“A fight? Here? And whatever it was,” Anna says, stunned, “it must have been something for the spirits to react so… violently.”

Her pulse has been pounding since she first saw evidence of battle, but now it kicks into high gear because everything: every water trail, trough of upturned dirt, scattered debris, and far flung ice bolt, radiates from a common center, and she knows who she’ll find waiting for her.

“Anna,” she says. “You came.”

And it’s crazy how, after everything she’s seen, after everything she’s been through, what halts Anna in her tracks, freezes her in place the way being an ice statue never did, is the sight of her sister covered in her own blood, on her knees in the center of a clearing of her own making.

Elsa is not well. Her eyes are clouded and she cradles her middle. Her dress bleeds red, the hems sodden with it. Between her arms are tiny rivers of her life, slipping across her forearms and pooling at the crooks of her elbows.

Anna sprints forward, skidding to a halt on her knees before Elsa, kicking up snow and dirt. Her hands hover everywhere and nowhere, unsure where to begin.

“How did you know where to find me?” Elsa lifts her head, and it takes effort. “The mist wall… the spirits… We couldn't find a way out after the- the fight.”

Anna, breathing hard, mind racing, rips the ring off her finger and shoves it close to Elsa’s face. Her fingers tremble as she undoes the clasp and the astro-globe unfurls. Elsa’s snowflake shimmers into existence, but flickers like a guttering candle flame. The edges of the ring become blurry from tears.

“Ah,” is all Elsa says after a long moment. She clutches herself tighter. “I should have known.” Then she smiles. Beams. Pain gives her eyes new creases. “Not exactly how I thought it’d be used, but I’m glad it worked.”

“That’s all you have to say for yourself!?” Anna can’t keep her voice down, even when it makes Elsa flinch, but she tries. “What even happened here?”

Elsa’s breathing is shallow and erratic. “We were… I was… attacked. Ah-!” She grips her abdomen, fresh blood leaking between her fingers. She bows her head, face shielded by her hair.

“Alright okay, know what? I know I asked but tell me later.” Anna shifts so she’s at Elsa’s side. “I need you to lie down, can you do that for me?”

Elsa nods slowly and lets her head be guided onto Anna’s knees. Her skin is flushed and feverish, radiating heat even as Anna retracts her palm in surprise. Elsa’s pulse thunders in her throat, and while normally that would be a good sign, Anna knows it’s wrong. She’s seen her share of cuts and scrapes, most of them on herself, but this was something else.

And the smell…the wound had already started to turn.

Anna shucks off her cloak and begins folding it lengthwise.

“Anna,” Elsa croaks. “No, you’ll freeze.”

“Save your breath Elsa,” Anna replies quickly, looping the garment under Elsa’s back, “and… lift your arms when I ask.” She tries to stop the shaking in her hands. She needs to be precise. “Now.”

And she… doesn’t look. Her hands work by themselves, wrapping and tugging and bundling it all up into a knot on Elsa’s left side. Elsa gasps and her eyes shut tightly at the new pain and pressure but Anna can’t risk making the bandaging too loose.

“Can you stand?” Anna supports Elsa with a hand on the small of her back. Elsa’s legs tremble as she attempts to put weight on them, and Anna has to catch her when she barely makes it halfway up. Elsa stares at the ground between her legs, panting.

“No, I... ,” she shields her eyes with a hand. “My head is… hot.” Goosebumps form under Anna’s fingers as Elsa actually shivers.

It’s bad. Real bad.

“Where are the spirits?” Anna asks.

“On guard. Waiting. Looking for a way out.” She senses Anna’s confusion. “When I was injured, there was a great sound from above, and the mist came from nowhere to shove the enemy back. I think it was Ahtohallan.”

“It trapped you in here?”

“Unintentionally, but yes. It sensed that I was in danger, but not the cause.” Elsa winces as she shivers again, grabbing Anna’s shoulder for support. “It knows that I still am, but not… the nuance. But you, you seem to have gotten here just fine.”

“It pushed Kristoff away, so it might still give us trouble.” Anna bit her lip, thinking, “But we need to get you out of here, now.”

“Call them Anna,” Elsa says, her voice low. “They will listen to you.”

“How?” Anna chokes because she’s never seen Elsa look so weak. She’s leaning on Anna almost fully now, her eyes half-lidded.

“You already know.” Elsa’s head falls to Anna’s chest, and Anna can feel her rapid breathing like it’s in her own chest. “Just… wish, and they will come.”

And Anna doesn’t know how Elsa makes it seem so effortless, so natural and elegant, because the only thing she can think of to do is slam her hand into the ground and beg.

Nokk bursts out of a standing puddle of water a few meters away, whining and bucking with fervor, it’s nostrils flared and head tossing. Gale descends from the clouds and whistles around them, the leaves and snow in it’s form comforting as it caresses her face. She feels the giants long before she sees them, but they emerge above the trees, craggy faces downcast and concerned. Anna casts her gaze about for the telltale magenta-purple flames of Bruni, but he’s nowhere to be found. A shame, because while she can’t think of a practical use for his talents at the moment, he never failed to bring a smile to Elsa’s face.

Anna addresses them. “I’m bringing her back to Arendelle, she needs medical attention and I need your help to get her there.” There was a pause. Gale bobs in a somber vortex, Nokk’s tail flicks back and forth, and the giants look at each other. Then they all advance at once, each trying to pick Elsa up or move both women from the ground in distinctly unskilled or uncoordinated ways. “Wait, stop!” Anna cries, and they cease immediately, backing up. “You have to be gentle,” Anna says firmly. “She’s hurt. Badly.”

This time, they wait for her direction, and Anna’s voice rings out so confidently commanding that it almost sounds foreign. “Gale, can you lift Elsa up and put her on Nokk’s back? We’ll travel back to the others and get her onto something more solid.” She turns to the giants, “I want you to look for the people who did this. Gale will help you pick up all the- well, everything here. I don’t want it to stay in the woods and become dangerous for the wildlife. You’ll have to wait until we’re further away though, since your footsteps shake the earth and will jostle Elsa.” Their faces fall and Anna summons her warmest smile. It came easier than she expected, knowing they genuinely cared. “I know you want to do more, but I promise, your job is very important.” Her eyes sharpen with her tone. “They can’t get away with this.”

Gale, who has been hovering over Elsa while Anna spoke, finally lifts her off of Anna’s legs, so slowly and tenderly that Anna almost starts crying again. Nokk presents it’s side, watching with it’s imperceptible gaze as Elsa is lowered onto it’s back. Elsa’s eyes are closed but when she is nestled against the horse’s neck she stirs, frosting the water horse below her into a solid form.

She meets Anna’s eye and smiles softly, a little more light in her eye than before.

They begin walking to the mist wall, stepping carefully around trees, ice barriers, and weapons buried in the snow. Anna keeps her hand on the Nokk’s flank, trying to judge the sway of the ground beneath it’s hooves and steady Elsa when necessary. Gale drops objects from the trees behind them, and every clatter of metal and muted thud of cloth and leather widens the scope of the attack for Anna.

“There were so many of them,” Anna remarks. She looks down at her sister, “I’m sorry you had to fight, Elsa.”

“I don’t know what else they expected,” she replies, a tired half smirk on her lips. “I could understand not knowing about the spirits, but the whole Ice Queen thing has been public knowledge for three years.”

“I… can’t believe you’re cracking jokes right now,” but Anna smiles back nonetheless. It disappears just as quickly. “I’m serious though Elsa. I know you,” she hesitates. “I know you never want to use your powers like that. Against people.”

Elsa looked down at Anna’s cloak around her middle. Anna’s heart skips a beat when she realizes a small but growing patch of red has started to appear. “They didn’t give me a choice.”

She extends her arm towards Anna, limp against the Nokk’s side. Anna shifts her hand on the horse’s flank to take her sister’s. She fights the shudder of revulsion that snakes up her arm; Elsa’s hand is slick with her own blood, but Anna can’t deny her, or herself, the comfort. “I didn’t want to hurt anyone,” Elsa says quietly.

Pride and remorse clash between Anna’s ribs. If anyone could beat back an unknown number of assailants while still barely putting a scratch on them, it was Elsa. But Anna regretted that being the case at all. Not for Elsa’s sake, who she knew would lament even one ounce of hurt, but for the ones who dared to even think about harming her family.

They deserved much, much worse.

She was going to need more boats to punch people off of. Though others had told her later that Hans had gotten off easy, attempting to slay royalty and really only getting a black eye for his troubles.

Elsa’s thumb running across the back of her hand reeled back her train of thought. “One thing kept me going though, through the madness of it, even after I got hurt.” She flinches and her other hand presses delicately against the red fabric. She clutches her sister’s hand, “I told myself to be brave, just like you Anna.”

“You mean to tell me you weren’t afraid?” Anna’s laugh is stilted.

Elsa breathes for a moment. “Were you?” she asks quietly, “When you were freezing to death on the fjord, and running across the dam?”

Anna squeezes back and her voice shakes. “I was terrified. Being brave doesn’t mean you’re not trembling in fear. It just means you have the resolve to stand up and keep going.”

“...I was so scared,” Elsa whispers, a single tear falling down her face. “I'm still scared.”

“I know,” and this time Anna’s voice breaks. She presses a kiss to Elsa’s temple. “I know Elsa, and I’m so sorry. Please hold on just a little longer.”

“Anna, I’m so tired,” she says faintly, the wind liable to steal the sound completely. “Please, may I sleep?”

“O-Of course.” Anna combs hair away from Elsa’s face, her own slick with tears. “Rest, Elsa, you’ve been through so much already.”

Elsa shudders through an exhale, her forehead pinching up as even the simple need to breathe inflicts pain. “Be there… when I wake?”

Anna couldn’t help herself now. A sob bursts from her chest and she clutches Elsa’s hand like a lifeline. “Always. I’ll always be here, Elsa.”

The barest trace of a smile turns the corner of Elsa’s mouth up. Then her whole body goes slack. Her hand loses its grip and for a full, heart-pounding moment Anna thinks she’s lost her, but then she sees Elsa’s chest rise and fall and knows she’s alive, just unconscious.

She cries all the way back to the sleigh.

Kristoff meets up with her after clearing the mist wall, which disappears as soon as they finish crossing. He pulls her in for a hug so fierce she can scarcely breathe, but she needs something solid right now and let’s him even though it aches. Bruni chirps sadly on his shoulder, pattering this way and that to get the best look at Elsa he could. Kristoff explains that he found Bruni outside the wall, huddled under a rock. An apple-sized singe mark on Kristoff’s chest speaks to how the little spirit was when he found him.

Anna had tried her best to ignore it, but when Kristoff’s face goes pale she has to check and see how much worse it’s gotten. Somewhere along the trek back blood had started to seep into Nokk's body, like drops of sickness in pure water. They snaked deeper into the horse’s belly, meandering red tendrils suspended and animated with every movement.

The moment Gale lifts Elsa off Nokk it crashes to the ground, no longer solid, splashing loudly into the snow and ice. Anna feels Nokk go and sends her thanks, even as it leaves a red trail behind. Elsa is laid next to Olaf, who reaches, “...2...1…” and then opens his eyes. “Elsa?” he says softly.

Elsa’s eyelids flutter as she wakes. Her eyes are still clouded, but brighten just a little when they catch sight of Olaf. Her voice strains then she speaks, “You’re still here.”

“I’m still here,” he nods. “Can’t… get rid of me that easy.”

As Anna gets into the sleigh to keep watch and Kristoff snaps Sven’s reins, she sees Elsa reach across the small space between her and Olaf. His twig hand meets her halfway and they hold each other like that, both weak and exhausted. They drift off almost immediately, which Anna is grateful for, despite how it also ties her stomach in knots.

The trip back home is long and silent.

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chriswoodink · 6 years

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DUNGEON CRAWLING ON A CYBERPUNK SKYLINE

You crawl through rubble filled hallways, climbing through a hole in the roof to find a dilapidated former apartment room. Or a hospital wing. Or a convenience store. Inside is a dirty, scraps-wearing man cradling a long dead skeleton. One of your friends tries talking to him of course but it goes badly.

The man picks up a shard of glass resting on a shattered digital photo frame. He attacks. You see whirring pistons beneath your broken skin but you don’t feel anything. The man’s legs disappear underneath a fallen pillar to the left of the room.

Another friend asks whether or not to move through the destroyed rooms to the left, following the man, or climb right up through the shaky vent above them. The first option is a lot safer but it’s going to take a while and time is money. Your wrist beeps and the device strapped to your arm reads ‘59 MINS POWER REMAINING’. The latter route is risky but looks a shorter trip.

A whirring sound hums louder and you can hear metal on metal echo throughout the room. It’s coming from the hole in the floor you just climbed up...

If you were to kneel at the great tree of Role Playing Game taxonomy, trace it’s many branches down and dig the dirt away, you’d unearth a root close to the surface: Dungeon Crawling.

With the resurgence of the old school mindset, the dungeon crawl has once again taken its place as both the bread and the butter.

But why do people keep going back to them? Well, they’re easy to run, right?. Simple in concept and in practice. The procedure for running the adventure is right there in your hands and it’s mostly fool proof.

Now I’ve learnt to love fantasy. But my first love was sci-fi. I adore cyberpunk and I’ve been hankering for a good cyberpunk game. I’ve also gotten right into the OSR as of late. So how do we reconcile cyberpunk and the OSR?

Dungeon crawling in an abandoned Judge Dredd-esque freaking mega-block skyscraper.

A structure so large it could have once held the equivalent to an entire city’s population.

Think combing the ruins of an older world ala Fallout or wading through a dangerous, falling apart high-rise that’s leaning on another in the Last of Us. The real life urban exploration explosion comes to mind as well.

This will be the first of a series of posts about hacking up this sort of game for my play group.

Now it doesn’t take long into thinking about the logistics of running an underdark-like campaign in a vertical plane that things start falling apart. Nearly all underdark maps I’ve seen are hex crawls. Veins of the Earth is a considerably impressive manual depicting procedures for replicating labyrinthian cave systems in both planes. But its macro layout is still mostly horizontally distributed.

So the chief obstacle is how to manage a map that makes the y axis a central pillar of its design while still maintaining clear, minimal note taking that’s easy to use at the table.

This is what I came up with.

Grab an index card. This is going to be one Block in the larger city building structure. Each Block has a number of Rooms that are still intact enough that something is or has recently been there.

Roll a D6 to determine how many Rooms are in the Block.

Any position is fine. The map is mostly conceptual rather than literal. A simple method is to place them on the card in the arrangement of dots on the dice.

Not all rooms are the same so let’s differentiate them a bit and add a little variety. Remember to do everything at the same step, working clockwise before moving on. So determine the size of all the rooms before heading to the next instruction. Do this for all of the following steps. I found it’s quick and easy to have a pencil in one hand and the dice in the other.

Roll a D6 to determine how big the rooms are.

1-2: Small or one room.

3-4: Medium or 2-3 small rooms

5-6: Large or 4-6 small rooms or 2 medium rooms

Marked with a S, M or L respectively.

Remember we want verticality to permeate all of the map design so there’ll be 3 levels within each card.

Roll a D6 to determine which rooms are in which levels of the block

1-2: Level 1 or the lowest level

3-4: Level 2 or the mid-tier level

5-6: Level 3 or the highest level

Note this by writing the Level number next to the size

Now we’ve got our rooms, let’s determine some of the connective tissue. Routes link the rooms together and are the ‘gutters’ to our ‘panels’.

Let’s take a little time to clearly define Rooms and Route, and what this means at the table. During play Rooms are ‘Zoomed in’. We play through this portion of the fiction in a moment to moment basis, seeing all the nitty gritty details.

Routes on the other hand are ‘Zoomed out’. We gloss over the journey a lot of the time in stories and role playing games because it’s usually not the particularly exciting part of the games. Here we’re working at an hour to hour basis compared to moment to moment. That is unless there’s something interesting for the players to interact with. Then we Zoom In. This could be a risky climb for instance. Rooms have specific interactive encounters. Interesting things happen in them, compared to Routes where there usually isn’t anything interactive. Routes could be hallways or a number of actual rooms. But since they’re rooms with nothing inside them worth the players’ time then we don’t zoom in.

This sort of concept is important to understand if you notice you get a lot of blank stares and awkward dead air after you tell them things about the fiction. You’re probably not giving them enough of a cue of something for them to interact with and respond to. The game is like a conversation in this way. I used to do this all the time when I first started GMing. The players would tell me they move through the tunnel. And then I’d respond with a detail of some sort about how the tunnel looks and smells like and how it extends onwards and then cue the awkward silence. They’d ask me if they come across anything and I’d skip to where they came across something important and interactive like an encounter.

Skip to the good stuff.

Draw some lines between a few rooms. These are our Routes. Then let’s determine how they connect. No rolling here, just look at the levels of the two rooms you’re trying to connect.

The Route is:

Horizontal if the two rooms are on the same level

Slope (~45*) if they’re a level apart. This has a +1 Dice Modifier for when the players roll to see how long the passage takes to traverse.

Vertical (~90*) if they’re two or more levels apart. This has a +2 Dice Modifier.

Next is how, in general, the Route is structured.

1-2: Walkway. Large enough in diameter to make your way through without any squeeze.

3-4: Crawl. Hands and knees territory. This has a +1 Dice Modifier

5-6: Squeeze. Walls up against you. You almost have to stay calm in order to even fit. This has a +2 Dice Modifier.

Write W, C or S along the line representing the route.

This is your basic Block.

Let’s talk about Time in a little more detail. Each Route is a point of decision making. Do the players travel down it or find another path? Time eats away at resources. Time is important in time-sensitive situations. And it's an important factor in creating tension in your OSR games. When the players traverse a Route have them roll a D6, adding any modifiers for the route. Each result equals that many 10 minute increments. On a 6, the die explodes and another D6 is rolled, adding any remaining modifiers. Tracking time through the use of PbtA/Blades style Clocks with six 10 minute sections I can fill in.

If your players want to find another route not on your card to a room on or not on your card then they can roll to determine how long it takes for them to find it. The building is a maze of cracks and crevices, and since we don’t want the players to be wasting their time they’ll always find the passageway. Usually they’ll probably want to skip a dangerous vertical climb by breaking it up into a longer Slope or maybe they’re just looking for a random room off the beaten path. If they are roll one up quickly and mark the new Route as a dotted line.

There are a few rules that are important in order to maintain verisimilitude. The time it takes to climb up a Route is twice as long than it is climbing down. The time it takes to travel through a Route is halved if it has already been traversed

Once you’ve got your Block repeat this process a couple of times and then arrange them like this.

This is your building (or part of it). This setup is conceptually the same as stacking cards of the same letter on top of each other with the higher number on top.

The highlighted areas of the cards are all areas that are on top each other, either directly below or above.

To the right is the concept from a different angle. The North area of Block A1 is right under the North Area of Block A2. If the players were in a Level 3 Room in the North area of A1 they could travel through a Slope Passage to a Level 1 Room in the North area of A2.

Simply draw any routes between the cards/blocks, connecting them. I’ve found when I use this method at the table I can hold the cards around them like a hand in poker, but when I’m playing a game of Discord I have no problem laying out the relevant cards in the way drawn above. How many you want to place down entirely depends on how many you want to generate at a time. Think the limited view distance in old video games popping objects up or having them vanish.

You could probably use this for running a crawl through castle ruins in your classic fantasy campaign too. Or a dungeon that goes straight down.

In further posts we’ll talk about what players will find in these rooms, how to structure an encounter within this framework and the idea of Power as both the amount of light remaining and fuel for chainsaws and laser weapons. Also monsters.

#blog #rpg

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