"Stormbringer"
from the Voice of the Storms rulebook
By Stephen McLaughlin

Excerpts from Bronn��s Journal
                Day 0: A new day opened to Nar today, the beginning of a new season. The lights have returned to the northern sky; lights that paint the ice many colors and herald the comings of storms. Our prophets have seen shapes and faces in the lights over our heads at night. We of the Owtee clan, had hoped that these signs would not come; not for a great many years, anyway. But Laranel has verified that the visions are true, and that we must act. Our prophecy has arrived, and Nar is awakened.
                Day 7: Our people have gathered their necessities and we have begun the journey south. Reaching the coast, we greet the vast frigid sea at the edge of the ice shelf with gifts of songs and animite. Our leaders confer as to how we should cross the sea to the continent that lies on the horizon. Rafts made of ice? Carried aloft by the wings of great Narths? Then little Erisa speaks up; why not build a bridge?
                Day 13: Construction of the ice bridge nears completion; and many of us are exhausted by our work. Helgrem and Thast survey the section that has been completed, while Balachron, Emaya, and Odavast bear the brunt of the work; casting their energies into the sea until great beams of ice float to the surface. I aid Velouria in the task of affixing these beams to each other and to the completed span. The familiar lilting tone is gone from Veloria��s conversation; even she is hard pressed to reach the southern continent and face whatever awaits us there.
                Day 15: Our bridge complete, we bid farewell to our homeland. I took Laranel aside last night to watch the lights in the northern sky and ask her what she thought awaited us in the southern lands. ��I do not know,�� she said. ��No doubt a great storm; whether it is a storm of harsh winds and ice, or one of fury and battle, I cannot say. I only hope we arrive before the storm hits.�� Knowing so little of the people we are journeying to meet, I wonder what may happen. I hope our prophets can tell our enemies from those we must aid.
                Day 20: Our scouts have returned to us from farther up the bridge with troubled tones in their voices. The Narths are spooked by something in the air, they say, and the wind rushes towards a depression in the skies. The weather continues to worsen as we press onward, and we are forced to make an early camp. Raising our tents, I cannot help but notice how narrow the bridge seems.
                Day 24: We have made no progress in three days, trapped against the ice bridge by the driving rain and sleet. The howling of the winds is driving us all to quick tempers, and as the rain and surf crash against our bridge, melting it slowly but steadily, I worry not for the first time about our ability to survive if we should break off of the bridge and begin to drift away in this storm.
                Some of our Magi have taken to reinforcing the bridge with new spans created from the sea, but for every three they create, two are swept away before we can secure them to our bridge.
                Day 25: One of the reinforcing spans was carried over the bridge on a wave, catching Koza and carrying him over the side. Ust and I quickly rescued him, but he was under the surface for a while. He sleeps in the shelter of his tent.

                Day 27: We had not noticed it when we first awoke, but throughout the morning it grew��a high, wafting tone hidden in and creeping through the howling of the wind. This tone grew in strength, and later seemed to be blending itself with the wind��s moans. The rain had slackened by this point, and hopes were high that we may be able to continue onward. A bright counterpoint, the notes became distinct, forming a melody that surrounded, contained, and lifted away the wind. A cheer arose unbidden from our group, and with bright eyes we prepared to make the best of this good fortune.
                ��Hello!�� I was not the only one to jump, startled by this unexpected voice. A head and shoulders poked up out of the surface of the now-calm waters. ��Are you guys okay?��
                ��We are better now,�� Laranel said, without a greeting. ��Are you to thank for abating the storm?��
                ��I am,�� she replied, as she climbed out of the water. A gasp or two was heard as we watched what first appeared to be a long fish tail separate into legs as the strange visitor mounted the edge of the ice bridge. ��I am Orthea, Magi of Orothe. I was traveling to Arderial when I saw this storm. It didn��t seem like the kind of storm that would naturally occur out here in the middle of nowhere, so I thought I��d take a look.��
                ��I, Laranel, Ice Queen of Nar, thank you for your aid. We had thought ourselves stranded by the storm, and were it not for your Spell... Where did you learn such power? Has Orothe such control of the weather?�� Laranel was inquisitive, as we all were. Our group, leaving their packs untended, gathered around Laranel as she confronted our unexpected benefactress.
                ��That was no weather control Spell, though I do know a few of those.�� The Orothean chuckled. ��I thought that the Narans were all��I dunno, hibernating or something.��
                ��We have remained separate in the past, yes, but we have seen visions in the sky, and felt a great calling to the southern continent. Can you tell us anything of the goings on there?��
                ��Well, this bridge looks like it��s headed for Naroom, and that��s not what I would call a safe place right now... Hey, my presence in Arderial can wait. Maybe I had better travel with you instead. I know this part of the sea pretty well, and you��ll need some info once you get to Naroom. Whaddya say?�� The Orothean extended her hand, and we all held our breath. Would our queen accept the help of this stranger?
                ��Your timely aid brings an offer for further assistance. You are most gracious.�� Laranel took Orthea��s hand, and the two shared a look that only they could explain, though I would not dare to ask what was seen in the stranger��s eyes just then.
                We departed shortly thereafter, and Laranel and Orthea continued their conversation. A few paces down the ice bridge, the Orothean stopped short and asked, ��Say, would you like to learn the spell I used to stop the storm? It does more than just stop bad weather. If your friends are in need of aid, the Voice of the Storms will help you find the heart of the problem.��
                Laranel was quiet for a moment. When she spoke, her voice had a softness to it, a new warmth I��d never heard there before. ��That would be... an unexpected honor. We accept your offer.��