Play@YSDC

Wincing in pain, Ogtuk-luk continues his assault on the beast. Regaining his footing, Ogtul-luk lunges forward and drives the spear deep into the beasts flesh, then deftly spins and brings the spear inline to parry the fiends next attack.

DSIGFUSS,There is no damage listed for any of Ogtuk-lul's weapons on his character sheet.

Qannaq assesses the situation with a momentarily furrowed brow...

OOC - 1d100=55 nailed it my idea = 55%

ooc- Qannaq see pm.

Qannaq knew what he had to do, he didn't like the idea but it might be their only chance against the creature. He circled the flailing spirit and snagged up the narwhal tooth and quickly attached it to his spear. He made sure to bind the tooth tightly as his grandfather had taught him. Then with a snarl, he leapt back to the fray.

OOC - and a San success versus a score of 80, Woot!
1d100=58

The undead Tupilac suddenly stops and stares up at the sky, its eyes wide with terror.

Everyone hears a soft pushing sound as if the air had been suddenly drawn from a seal skin pouch. The snow seems to dance at their feet as it slides slowly north along the surface of the plains. The air is then suddenly stilled, casting a suspicious silence. A strange humming begins to rise as the northern lights stretch quickly across the sky like an ethereal ribbon floating in the long dark silky hair of the goddess. The greens and whites of the aurora borealis flash and blink their understanding with amazing purpose and wondrous insight. All can’t help but stare and understand as force filled waves of blinding clarity wash over all who bare witness to the lights.

A mountain then appears in the sky, made from the fiery green ribbons the sky dwellers craft like carvings in bone. It is Sivanitirutinguak. A river flows from the sea and into its base, an unnatural force to be certain. It was as though the gods themselves were pushing the water from the shores of Qikiqtaaluk or pulling the river from the root of the Sivanitirutinguak.

A longing passes over each and every member of the Dorset tribe as if their mother were calling them home to the mountain. A home long forgotten but as warm and familiar as any hut they had ever laid their skins and a mother perhaps not forgotten but surely missed.

Then the snow begins to rise in the north for miles around them. The snow lifts from the ground in much the same manner as it had fallen in large sullen flakes… The image of Sivanitirutinguak is soon covered by a blanket of thick drifting snow that seems to be picking up a speed as it floats effortlessly north. And then with a sudden flash of green and white, the drifting snow thunders towards them. The Tupilac seems to explode into perfect cubes of rotting matter that scatter to the treacherous wind before them. The snow hits the Dorsets, washing over everything in its path until there is nothing but blackness and cold visions of starless skies.

Everyone please make a 1d100 Sanity roll and post your roll here. I will check to see if you pass or fail as there are penalties associated with the vision you just experienced.

Then Proceed to Chapter 6 when it is ready.

OOC - 1d100=3 woot, game on!