Frost Bites - Part Five

It's something that could only happen in shadow. A godlike whale hooting and warbling upon a crushed wooden cradle that used to be a Viking ship, in communion with the Rebman Merrisol. Wet whistling and clicking noises that grow more energetic before more strength returns to the miraculously mending sea creature. If anything, the lattice of silver along its stomach becomes brighter and more vibrant. This having urged Captain Merrisol and any other brave souls to venture /inside/ the guts of the Narwhal. Inside it is a worse discovery: Stanchions of harpoons and timbers to maintain a cavern within the innards for easier piece-meal butchering of its flesh.

After removing the artificial and crude supports, the agitation and pain from the Narwhal diminishes, and true power floods easily into the entity. The harassed tone to its gurgling cries attains a deeper resonance. Magic sense shows a restoration. And as the power is drawn back into it, the stench of the dark depths comes back to taint the area in its own special way. Stinky whale. The creature focuses within itself, the tusk from its head curling and bearing new fresh glyphs from where it extends past its cranium. Wet and glistening, they herald the whale diminishing in size once trust is firmly established. To say that the whale 'accidentally' rolled onto the ship and caused it damage in a purely accidental way, would be false. It is still immense, but now the same size as the vessel, rather than dwarfing it. And while the awkward dimensions are reduced, its weight has increased, causing fractures along the ice in a dramatic sunburst ~crack~. As ridiculous as it may seem, through aura or presence, the whale bears whorls and patterns along it's sides like a heraldic coat of arms.

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