Bryan stretched his jaw and yawned before taking another bite out of his hunk of meat. “Stho. wash it gud?”

“Got a bit scary at the end. Don’t know if that was the best direction, but you performed it well,” Cob answered, smiling reassuringly.

“Wait. We’re being judged on performance as well?” Robin asked Brack.

“No,” Brack replied. He rubbed his eyes wearily.

“I think…” Gunnar finished off his morsel of food before finishing. “That I should do mine now.”

“Go ahead,” Brack answered.

Gunnar leaned towards the fire and began.

**********

Before their redemption, the Skogi were a persecuted people. They had been brought close to extinction by a terrible blight and were moving to new lands. They sought food, shelter, and most of all, hope.

They travelled north in a pitiful caravan that comprised less than three hundred men, women, and children. They travelled north for the simple reason that they knew only the sea laid wait for them in the south. A sea that would give nothing but salt. So, they travelled north. To Voturn.

They travelled long and far, and the further north that they travelled the colder it got. Until one day, the caravan’s leader, Karlson, decided to halt the caravan. He intended to search for a place of shelter to wait out what he thought was simply a harsh winter.

The caravan had stopped in a flat, desolate tundra. Except for a lone, cavernous hill, there was nothing but brown grass and snow for as far as the eye could see. Karlson led the caravan into the caves.

The cave tunnels seemed to be interconnected. They all lead to the same cavernous room in the centre of the hill. The caravan settled wearily but eagerly; they had been walking too long to turn down shelter of any kind.

In the middle of the first night, the caravan was awoken by a deafening roar. The grating voice seemed to come from every direction. Perhaps from the darkness itself.

“YOU SLEEP IN MY HOME! WHO IS THE LEADER OF THIS INFESTATION?”

Karlson, as terrified as anyone else, answered the voice with courage. “I am Karlson, the leader of this group. We are the last of the Skogi people. I ask that you give us only a few nights worth of rest here.”

“THE LAST YOU SAY? OF THE SKOGI? WHAT ARE THE SKOGI?”

“We are a hardy people and are running from certain extinction in the south. If you could offer us hospitality, we would repay you.”

“EXTINCTION! HOSPITALITY! REPAY!” The voice laughed wholeheartedly. “WHAT LUCK!” The voice’s laughter slowly faded into silence. The caravan could do nothing but go back to sleep, not that half did that night.

The next day, as the caravan attempted to leave the hill, a terrible blizzard took shape, trapping them as sure as if the tunnels had collapsed.

Desperate men and women pleaded with Karlson. “What are we to do for food? Our provisions have been gone for days already.”

“How long will we be stuck here?”

“What of that terrible voice?”

“The blizzard is that voices doing, surely.” Karlson listened grimly to every voice. Until.

“HELLO SKOGI! ARE YOU WELL RESTED?” The voice boomed out of the air. “I WILL HELP YOU IF YOU REPAY ME!”

Karlson brought calm to the caravan before responding in measured tones. “It seems that we have no choice. Please, tell us your terms…” Karlson coughed uncomfortably before finishing, “...master.”

“MASTER? I AM VOTURN!” Laughter boomed, mocking. “MY TERMS ARE SIMPLE! YOU ARE MINE! IN RETURN I WILL SUSTAIN YOU!”

“How will you sustain us Voturn? And-“

Voturn spoke before he could finish. “YOU DO NOT UNDERSTAND THE POSITION THAT YOU ARE IN KARLSON!” The walls of the cavern began to shift and ripple along with the voice. “YOU HAVE BEEN MINE SINCE YOU WALKED INTO THIS PLACE!” The cavern changed into a great timber longhouse. The walls both encroached and lengthened out to create a large rectangularly shaped hall. Brightly burning hearths sided by benches were spread periodically along the room’s length. “SIT!” The voice demanded.

The group of less than three hundred sat hurriedly, all managing to find a place around one of the many hearths. Karlson spoke into the air. “Voturn, will you please show yourself and tell us what you want from us? We are at your mercy.”

“OK!” With that, Voturn took shape instantaneously among the rafters of the longhouse. It was a horrifying sight. Long, sticklike limbs with wretched claws hung loosely from the wooden supports. A black bats face stared down at them, easily the size of a man curled up. Its blood-red eyes were as large as plates and black, horizontal pupils ran along them both. Two pairs of crescent-shaped horns sprouted from the beast. One pair sprouted up from the sides of its head and the other from the sides of its too thin neck. White, lanky hair covered the beast along its entirety, mercifully covering any skin apart from the face. The worst thing was the mouth. It seemed to be stuck in a perpetual grin that split its face completely in two. The leering mouth did not move along with the voice.

Voturn slowly lowered itself down towards where Karlson was sitting. Its eyes did not move from him for one moment. “ARE YOU AFRAID OF ME KARLSON?”

Karlson stared back at the creature and swallowed. He stilled his shaking hands. “Yes, Voturn.”

“YOU ARE NOT AN IDIOT THEN!” Terrible laughter rumbled, seemingly separate from the physical beast. “YOU WILL MAKE A GOOD SLAVE!” Voturn fell from the rafters gracefully. Landing silently on all fours, it crawled along the room, staring blankly at everyone that it passed over. Children stared slack-jawed, too afraid to cry. Adults shut their eyes, still in their terror.

Once Voturn had reached the end of the hall it turned and addressed the sitting crowd. “EAT AND SLEEP SKOGI! I WILL GIVE YOU INSTRUCTIONS WHEN YOU WAKE!” Stacks of food appeared along the walls. Crates of fresh produce and bladders of hot tea and cold water. Meat of all kinds, some pieces raw but most cooked for preservation already. No one moved until Voturn disappeared.

Everyone feasted that night, though it took some time for anyone to begin talking.

“Karlson? What will we do? We cannot let that… thing destroy us.”

Karlson smiled reassuringly, addressing everyone. “Do not worry. Please. We will find a way through. Perhaps we will gain something by the end?”

“Voturn does not seem like the giving sort.” A grizzled old warrior spoke up, “He seems the opposite.”

“Who said he would give willingly?” Karlson grinned. Knowing glances past between those listening.

“And how do you suppose we would take from the thing?” A terrified parent whispered harshly. “How do you know it's not listening to us right now?” That put a dampener on the conversation.

Everyone ate quietly and did not dither long before falling asleep on the hard floor and benches. Karlson did not sleep. He lay awake all night, thinking.

In the morning everyone was awoken by a prolonged screeching sound. With that screeching sound, one of the walls morphed to include a large door.

“RISE! I HAVE WORK FOR YOU TO DO!” The disembodied voice commanded joyously. Everyone rose from their hard beds and readied themselves for whatever unique torture awaited them. The door opened slowly, revealing a deeply alien landscape.

A sandy shore spread out before them. The shore was lined with several large clay huts. Each hut was identical – red clay walls with a domed shale roof and a reed door – except for a symbol above each of the entrances. The symbols were all abstract shapes that vaguely resembled animals.

The most jarring feature in this landscape was the sea itself; the water was a deep purple that gave no hints to what lay beneath. It reflected a white sun that shone brightly but provided little warmth.

Karlson was the first to leave the longhouse. He stepped on the cold sand and looked around to further assess the landscape. There was nothing except sand and strange purple water for as far as Karlson could see. He took a moment to compose himself before giving the all-clear.

Once everyone was outside, the door slammed shut. “GO INTO THE HUTS AND I WILL LET YOU BACK TO YOUR FOOD AND WARMTH!” The voice boomed across the landscape.

“I need volunteers. We will go through first to assess the risks. I think Voturn wants each of us to go in at least one. The most hardened men were chosen from the raised hands, not all of them were old.

They each stood in front of their hut, awaiting Karlson’s signal. Karlson stood at the leftmost hut. This one had a shape that vaguely resembled an owl. Karlson raised his hand and brought it back down to signal the men. He stepped forwards.

Each hut contained a different experience. A different horror.

In one they were made to experience their worst fear until they broke down. This could take days or even weeks for the most stubborn. Though a week in the hut could have been but a second on the beach.

In another, they were chased and attacked in a dark forest. Their tormentors took the shape of every animal that the victim could imagine, and some they could not. A giant man-like creature covered in black hair ran on all fours. Winged lizards swooped and shouted down from above the trees. Wolves the size of horses barked with snouts too long and ran with four jointed legs.

In Karlson’s hut, he was forced to relive his worst memory over and over. He watched his father drown as he, a child, stood powerless to help. Each time the vision started again his father sounded a little more desperate, his child body felt a little more helpless and weak. Karlson watched, but not just his dying father. He watched the swaying of the grass in front of his childhood home. He analysed the activity of the fish in the lake. He was attempting to find… something. Any weakness in the illusion that he was being subjected to.

After a long while, Karlson understood. He saw the illusion for what it really was. A reflection of his own mind. He now knew what he had to do.

When Karlson was finally allowed to exit the hut the first thing that he saw were the others. Some were cowering by themselves and some in the arms of their loved ones. All had hair and skin as white as snow. He looked down at his own hands and saw the same change. A shiver ran up his spine.

“To mark them is what it said.” A strong willed woman approached him and nodded her head toward the marked ones. She had her arms wrapped around herself, for the cold or for reassurance Karlson could not tell. “My daughter is in one of them now. I think it’s the one that turns you into an object or some such.” The woman looked at Karlson desperately. “Do you have anything? To get us out of this hell.”

Karlson nodded. “I do. Listen close.” He whispered to the woman and told her to spread what she had just heard to everyone she could, and to tell them to spread it as well.

Eventually, everybody had been through a hut, and everybody had been marked. Small children had hair as white as an old person, and everybody looked as if their skin had never touched sunlight. Everyone had heard Karlson’s plan as well.

When the door to the longhouse opened and Voturn called them back, everyone went, their heads down in apparent fear. They all sat on the benches and ate quietly.

Until a young man stood up and shouted, “Voturn, you coward! You scare little children with tricks and hide away. Come out and prove that you’re not just an evil weakling!”

“WAH?” The voice boomed a surprised grunt through the air. “HOW DARE YOU!” Voturn’s physical form began to manifest in front of the young man. Before the body was more than a thin mist, it stopped forming. “Huh?” Voturn’s omnipresent voice was now that of an angry old man.

As the Skogi stood up and began berating Voturn, he slowly shaped into his true form. A decrepit, naked old man.

“Bastard!”

“You’re a fake!”

“All you are is a trickster!”

The old man stared bewilderedly at the angry crowd. “No. It can’t be.” He began stumbling for the door but was picked up and slammed onto the floor.

Karlson knelt to speak to him. “You will fix what you have done and build us a good home in this place. In return, we may spare your miserable life.”

“Ok, fine! I will do anything! Please don’t kill me.” The old man gibbered.

Karlson calmly slapped him in the face. “Stand up. Will someone cover him please?”

The old man donned a sack to cover himself and stumbled his way to his feet. “Thank you, Karlson.”

“Do not speak my name, beast.” Karlson snarled menacingly. “You will build us a paradise, here.”

“Sure.” At once everything disappeared and they were standing in the middle of a cold tundra. Even the cave that they first entered was gone.

“Do you want a great fortress, a luxurious palace, or a sprawling metropolis? Tell me and it will be done.”

“Well… being that there are only a few of us I think we could use some more people to-”

“Karlson! We could never trust anything that he made for us. Would they even truly be people?” The strong willed woman said.

“Do not worry madame. As you have obviously figured out already, my power only works when you believe that it is real or true.” The old man explained charmingly. “All you have to do is believe that who I am making is real, true and good, and they will be.”

“I don’t believe that is how it works. We must refuse to believe that what he is creating is evil or untrustworthy, not that it is good.” The young man who provoked him earlier interjected.

“Or you could do that.” The old man gave a forced smile. “So, I will make a grand city filled with good people to add to your ranks.”

“Make the ground fertile as well.”

“Make the weather more tolerable.”

“Build us a forest filled with game.”

“Make us look normal again.”

The old man held up his hands to stem the flow of questions. “I will be able to do all these things except…” When he frowned regretfully it seemed awfully like a smile. “...I will not be able to change your appearance.”

“If you can make us like this you can change us back!” An angry voice shouted.

“I am sorry, but I can’t. If I did it would change you into different people, and you are already so kind and gracious that I would miss you too much.”

“So we’re stuck looking like this?”

“As well as any children you may have and their children as well.” The old man said.

Karlson turned to the crowd. “It will be a sign of what we have been through in this place. We must always remember why we look this way and who did it to us”.

He turned back to the old man with a determined look in his eyes. “Begin.”