On Goliaths

Entry 1:

Little is know of the savages of the north. Thus I endeavored to journey and learn what threat these towering behemoths posed to their civilized neighbors to the south. While most believe it to be the hostile nature of the goliaths that allows so few explorers to return, I hunch that it is actually the environment these people live in that is the true killer. I do hope I am correct. My colleagues all snigger a laugh at me for choosing such an "unworthy" thesis. After all, none of these brutes have ever been observed casting arcane spells, or even speaking in the common tongue for that matter. They believe that I waste the Library's resources. I am thankful for the support of my mentor Nil'Rem. He has moved the Archmagi's mind through powerful words and the grounded philosophy that "all knowledge is important, and that growth should be perused for growth's sake". Nil'Rem's opinion is always considered. I don't know why he did not make a clam for Archmagi when it was available to him. Ogmar, Letandi Initiate

Entry 2:

With fur lined robes, mittens, boots, and head dress I ventured through the portal to our new enclave in the depot of Mercy's Keep. Despite my preparations I found myself chilled the minute I stepped off their circle. I suppose I have my Larthian heritage to blame. I'm sure many wonder, "what is a free orc doing in the north". I share their curiosity sometimes. I have also been acutely aware of the gaze of greed that has followed me the minute I stepped out of the Leerie. While I planned to stay the night here in town, I fear that I will not feel safe, even behind the doors of the local mission. I suppose I will have to acclimate to sleeping amongst the bitter winds eventually, not time like the present as they say... Ogmar, Letandi Initiate

Entry 3:

Those Cads! They just couldn't let an orc walk free. Not even three nights into my journey north and I have been captured! They know I am a representative of the Leerie, and they do not care. As they say "no one will recognize me without my robes". I fear they may be correct... After all of the work that went into preparing for this journey, I am to end it so soon, sitting in a cage on the cold snowy ground, shivering in my own filth. My captors are ecstatic, raving about how easily I was captured and taking bets as to how much coin I will fetch with each sip of ale. I do hope they choke on their own tongues. Ogmar, Letandi Initiate

Entry 4:

I didn't mean it! I mean, they were depraved men and women, each of them, but I didn't mean for them to die like this. I am writing what I suspect will be my last entry. The surrounding planes are silent now, but moments ago they were alive with the cries of monstrous beasts, and the bloodcurdling screams of my captors. While the dark made it difficult to see, the vignette around the campfire was a horrifying one. I watched one of my captors, axe in hand, face off against a beast nearly twice his size. His zealous swings were easily arrested by the iron grip of a hand the size of his head. I watched the beast rend him limb from lib as if his body was as delicate as a house fly. When the screams ended the bodies were left strewn about to tell the story of the the slaughter. I don't know why I was spared. Perhaps they did not see me. Part of me wishes that they had found me. Now it is my fate to slowly starve and wither away in this cage in the middle of nowhere. Ogmar, Letandi Initiate

Entry 5:

Three days I have been without food and with little water. I have survived this long by eating what little snow I can scrape off the ground. I am hungry enough that the dirt and dry grass mixed in with these handfuls are welcome. I have lost feeling in my hands and most of my legs. It is for the best, the paradoxical burning of my extremities has kept me awake for the past 24 hours. It is hard to write now, It is hard to think now. Ogmar, Letandi Initiate

Entry 6:

It has only been a few hours since my last entry, but it is amazing what adrenaline can do for one's cognitive faculties. The beasts are back, the Goliath. They moved into the remains of this camp with surprising stealth for their size. I spotted one, already watching me as she stood over by the remains of the camp fire. They are communicating with each other now. Not ten yards from me I can hear the tones of disagreement in their guttural speech. The female keeps bearing her teeth to the two males and pointing at me. I can't decide if I feel safe or trapped in this cage... Ogmar, Letandi Initiate

Entry 7:

It has been some time. Much has happened since my last entry. I don't know the date any more, but I know I have been here for at least one year as I have witnessed a thaw in the southern pass.
In my capture, my journal was taken from me. I was grateful that they did not kill me outright, like the Okwiiniiwana would have. But I was still someone's prisoner. For a time. It took these people little time to rend my cage apart and put me in new binds. It was the female, who I mentioned was bearing her teeth, who tied me up and threw me over her shoulder. She carried me as one would a sack of potatoes. She did this for days, never showing any signs of exhaustion. Any time I tried to protest her arm would squeeze me like a snake until I was almost ready to pass out. I learned protest little. In fact I quickly realized that the massive amount of heat radiating off of this woman was what was most likely keeping me alive.
After three days on foot we arrived at a camp. Temporary homes constructed out of animal skins and chitin greeted us. More goliath emerged from the tents and huts with arms outstretched to greet the travelers. These goliath were either relatively smaller or older, or both. They embraced my captors with passion that made my civilized cheeks blush. The female carrying me received notably more embraces from both males AND females. She accepted them but seemed to be in a hurry to get me to a large tent in the center of the camp. A small party of elders joined her as she carried me into the hut. I struggled as I did not know what fate awaited me within.
To my surprise, I found an elder male inside stoking a fire. I expected the warm atmosphere to be welcoming but I was met with searing pain across my body, reminding me how extensive my frostbite had become. I began to scream. The woman carrying me set me down on a bed of furred and feathered hides. My bonds were cut. I struggled to get up but my captor placed an open hand to my chest, firmly pinning me to the ground. My captor and the elders with her began to chant something in their tongue. I watched the goliath woman's eyes flutter and a grimaced look appear on her face. I felt a new source of warmth emanating from her hand on my chest. To my astonishment her hand began to emanate a radiant glow. I felt the pain subside, enough to bring me to my faculties. The goliath woman reared back, clutching her hand, wincing in pain. She hastened from the hut as the darkness of exhaustion took me.
When next I awoke it was two elderly goliath that were at my side. I recognized the male who had been tending the fire and a much older female who was muddling something in a wooden bowl at my bedside. When they noticed me stir, the man sat me up and before I knew what was happening, the woman had slipped the bowl between my lips. A thick broth ran through my insides. I protested at first as the taste assaulted my tongue. Something like salty grass clippings and black licorice remember thinking. I quickly acquiesced as I felt a soothing warmth reach my fingers and toes. It was the first time in days that I had been able to feel them and enjoy it. I swilled the concoction and glanced at my body. To my surprise, my black limbs had regained their color with the exception of my little toe on my left foot. I winced as the warm sensation of the stew made it's way to the black flesh. The female must have seen my face as she began to utter words to me and speak to the male propping me up.
I remember snippets of the next few minutes in a blur as the male made for a pouch on the other side of the hut and produced a thick knife. It turns out that meat cleavers, and their shape, might be a universal constant. It did not take me long to figure out what their words meant. I struggled, but despite her apparent age, the old woman was more than enough to keep me pinned to the ground. I remember the male sharpening his blade. I remember him calmly walking over. I don't remember the pain. Only the sensation of the slice, as if my toe was not more than a common garden vegetable. I remember screaming. I remember them laughing at me as I passed out once more.
It was not until the small hours of the morning when I next awoke with a start. The goliath woman, the one who had carried me here, was seated at my feet. She was eyeing my bandaged toe. At first she said nothing, and neither did I. We must have spent an hour silently looking each other over. I found an intelligence that I did not expect to see in her eyes. I could tell by the look on her face that she found something surprising in me as well.
Finally the silence was broken as the woman raised both hands to her chest. "Makwaogiin" she stated. The blank stare on my face needed no translation. "Makwaogiin!" she stated more proudly this time, pounding her chest as she said it. Finally the realization hit me. "Ogmar!" I said mimicking her chest thumping. Her stern face curled into a smirk as she let out a chortle that I would come to recognize as the goliath version of a giggle. I would later come to learn that while not a perfect phonetical translation, my name is fairly close to the name of a fairy tail character that children of the three herds believe in. A shared imaginary friend of sorts, he is whimsical and silly and enjoys giving gifts. He is also said to be small and green... go figure.
After a lot of exaugurated gestures and repeated words we had exhausted ourselves. I learned that I had been taken in by the Nanaandawi. Makwaogiin laid down on the hard ground next to me, her frizzy hair pillowing out from under her massive head. She did not seem the least bit bothered by the cold earth. I rolled away from her, some sort of civil compulsion to respect her privacy despite her proximity. Before the dying fire could leave me susceptible to the cold, I felt gentle hands pull an owlbear skin up over my shoulders.
Ogmar, Letandi Initiate

Entry 8:

The Structure of a Goliath Tribe
I awoke the next morning feeling less like a prisoner, though still keenly aware of my captivity. The elderly woman was back with more stew; A thick fatty concoction sitting in the bowl. I repeated my gestures from the night before, thumping my chest and saying "Ogmar". The display caused her face wrinkles to deepen as she smiled. "Nibwaakaa" she stated softly, pointing at her face. She motioned with her cane over to the older man in the corner of the hut, still asleep, mouth wide open, "Debibizi Manidoosh". The man, Debibzi, snorted and woke himself in response. Nibwaakaa bent over and slapped her knee with laughter.
During my first days with the tribe I was surprised by just how well everyone tolerated my presence. The minute I emerged from the tent, I was accosted by "children", some already taller than me, celebrating me as "Ugmaar" and petitioning me for gifts. I lost the few worldly possessions I had (including this journal) in a fit of nervous generosity that day. The children played around the camp with my vials, and pocket watches, and even my quill. I was off put at first by how all of the children bore tattoos. The older ones were more heavily marked than the youngers, but I could not find a single child of unmaimed flesh.
I also found Makwaogiin that day. It wasn't hard to as she seemed to constantly be in motion moving and providing subtle help and direction to each group around the camp. I have learned that, if you are looking for it, leadership is another concept that needs no language to recognize. I would spend the next several weeks shadowing Makwaogiin and learning the ways of her world.
Makwaogiin (or Ogii as she has allowed my tongue to call her), did not command respect amongst her kin but instead received it freely. She was welcomed each time she started a new interaction with a group or individual. I quickly picked up that they did not refer to her as Makwaogiin, but "Ogimaa", a term they use for their leader.
As Ogimaa, it is Ogii's duty to not just keep her people safe, but to aid them and provide wisdom in all aspects of life. Ogii has proven to be adept in all major areas of Goliath living including hunting, basket weaving, foraging, fire building, education (more on that later), and judgment rending. Ogii was quick to seek aid from those more skilled when needed. She would often consult Nibwaakaa for wisdom, though at times, I failed to recognize the interaction as fruitful as Nibwaakaa was always erratic in her dispensing of this wisdom.
The rest of the members of the herd were equally diverse. I could find no distinction of roles between the genders, nor professions tied to just one person. There were certainly those who favored professions due to their aptitude but everyone knew how to competently perform all of the basic tasks around camp. I quickly found a niche for myself as a fire tender. The herd did not keep their fires during the day, having no need for their warmth. I was not so fortunate, so I stayed close to the fire, stoking it when I could.
Over time, my proximity to the fire attracted the children of the herd. It seems that when one spends as much time as me around a fire, people expect a story. At first, my "civilized" mind saw this as a great opportunity to lecture and provide them with the valuable knowledge that they were missing. I quickly realized that this would not work. In goliath culture, you must earn your place by the fire, if your story is not well received then your stage is taken from you. In this case, the children jeered at my bland performance and heaped snow on the flames. Ogii found this quite funny but recognized my plight. The next day she lit the fire for me and motioned me over. She had laid out an owlbear pelt for me to sit on. She sat cross-legged in the sodden ground by the fire. The people of the herd instinctively moved to seat themselves around the fire as their Ogimaa was at the stage.
"Gikinawaabam" she said, pointing to her head and her heard. I repeated this motion and did my best with the word. The crowd quickly cheered. Ogii smiled and said the word again "gikinawaabam", this time poking my chest and moving her large finger to my head, then to hers, then down to her chest. I paused, trying to understand what she was trying to tell me. Then, as if gifted by Ijos herself, the epiphany hit me. "Learn!" I said, "you want me to learn!".
"Learn" Ogii repeated with surprising accuracy. "Learn" the herd repeated her.
Many afternoons and evenings were spent like this. When Ogii was not out hunting beasts or tracking the Okwiiniiwana, she would sit with me, draw a crowd of children and trade the words of our native tongues. After weeks of this practice I had developed the basic words to express my wants and needs, specifically "wakewaji" or "I'm cold".
Now I spend most of my days by the central fire. Children bring me kindling that they have gathered and I teach them. I have learned not to lecture, as my professors did to me, but to weave the knowledge into grand stories and tales. The children are willing to sit through my broken dialect and are even picking up some words in the common tongue, specifically "more!".
In the evenings I am allowed to sleep in the central hut, an honor I have learned. Typically only the Ogimaa and those chosen by the Ogimaa are allowed into the tent. Thus I have spent the past seasons sharing a tent with Ogii, Nibwaakaa, and her husband Debibizi Manidoosh, who prefers that only his wife call him that. Apparently Debibizi Manidoosh translates out to something akin to "bug catcher", a nickname Nibwaakaa gave him for sleeping with his mouth open. His real name is Wasoshkiinzhig, admittedly, no easier to say. Wasoshkiinzhig is gruff, but shows his kindness to me by always making sure that he stokes the fire with fresh kindling before he goes to sleep. When the fire does die down, I have the heat from Ogii's body to keep me warm. To this day I can't figure out if laying with me each night means anything to Ogii or if it is just her way of helping me. I have grown to enjoy these nights with her so I dare not ask and risk bringing an end to it.

Entry 9

The Okwiiniiwana and the Other Herds of Goliath
It seems clear to me that the Okwiiniiwana are the reason that Goliath's are thought of as nothing more than savages. I was truly confused on the discrepancy between what we perceived of the Goliath and what I have observed the past several seasons. My confusion was lifted last night. It was Ogii that awoke me first as she suddenly tensed in the middle of the night. Before I knew what was happening she was up and out of the tent like a shadow.
It is strange, when I have studied battles, I have always imagined lengthy affairs stretching out days and week. But battles are not wars, and blitzes are over quickly.
The first cry hit my ears before I even managed to exit the tent. Thunderous voices filled the air. Some of them were my kinsmen, some of them were the Okwiiniiwana. The Okwiiniiwana, faces bleached and features tattooed to resemble hideous skulls with wide eyes. Some of them carried the shrunken heads of other game at their belt. Their eyes were open wide so that you could see them stare you down from yards away, even in the dark. I knew that I was not a match for this clash of titans, so I did my best to hide, but the wild eyes of the Okwiiniiwana are hard to avoid. I was perused by a particularly crazed looking Goliath, features rich with malice. When he grabbed me I frantically scanned his face for some sort of reason, but the intelligence, that I had found in Makwaogiin's eyes, was completely absent. I attempted to make my peace, but I was cut short by the blade of an axe severing my assailant's head from his shoulders. Makwaogiin had come to my rescue! She towered over me with the hint of a smile that stood out like a sore thumb against the back drop of carnage. Before I could say anything we were on the defense again. Ogii was pierced in the shoulder by an arrow. The assailants came in a group of 8 this time. Each of them 3-4 feet taller than me.
Once again my preparations for death were cut short, this time by a large hairy limb reaching down in front of me. I suddenly found myself under a hairy body. It took my senses a few seconds to process that I was under the stomach of massive bear. The creature heaved it's heavy paws, cleaving an Okwiiniiwana with each blow. I did my best to stay under the creature as it felt like the safest place at the time. The great bear drew much of the herd, putting them down one by one or two by two. Eventually though, their numbers proved too much for the creature and it was pinned, with me beneath it. The largest goliath I had ever seen had the bear in a headlock, slowly wringing the air from it. I strained my torso, willing it to move out from under the great beast. In my frenzy I glanced at the creature and found myself locking eyes with it. An imperceivably small second that stretched out for minutes gave me the time to find it and be sure of it. Makwaogiin's glint; it was there in the bears eyes. The moment was broken as the creature cringed in pain and let out a heart stopping roar. Another one of the savages had driven it's blade into the bear, into Ogii! I scrabbled in my supine position, desperately looking for something to do. Then, in a fit of desperation and luck, my subconscious relayed to my body a series of motions that came so naturally to me, I am hesitant to take credit for them. At the zenith of my reach, a slain goliath, his belt glinting with a dragger, the size of a scimitar to me. Madly I groped for it, and the second my palms found purchase, I drove the blade across the posterior ankle tendon of the large goliath holding Ogii. The creature let out a baleful howl and attempted to step back on his now lame foot, toppling him to the ground. Ogii, now free and with the advantage of distraction, made quick work of the crowd around her, bisecting her foes with a few swipes of her great arms. Finally she stood over the great goliath as he attempted to scramble backwards out of her reach. She placed a paw on his chest, pinning him, and with on quick motion, drove it through his torso. I have never been so relived by such a grizzly sight.
The large goliath was apparently the Ogimaa of the Okwiiniiwana. His destruction spread through the splintered psyche of his kin and as if by some sort of hive mind intelligence, the heard retreated. They scattered into the frozen plains with hoots and howls of fear.
Of the aftermath of the battle, most of the tribe had avoided serious injury. It would seem that the attack strategy of our aggressors was to overwhelm Ogii. In this, they almost succeeded. Oggi, reverting back to her humanoid form, bore several deep stab wounds. She collapsed from her injuries upon her transformation. I called out for help, but that was when I learned that the tribe had lost its healer. Nibwaakaa had been slain.
I write now at midday, though recent events give me the sense that it is much later. Ogii is with Wasoshkiinzhig and he is doing his best to push through his grief and save his Ogimaa, but he has relayed to me he is not as skilled as his beloved wife, nor does he posses the magic of Makwaogii. I don't know if Ogii will make it through the night. I find myself more dismayed by this thought then I had expected. Tonight I do not think I will sleep without Ogii's warmth.
Ogmar, Letandi Initiate

Entry 10

Basadina Manidoo: The Nagamon
Wasoshkiinzhig has done his best but Ogii remains unconscious and deteriorating. Her wounds continue to grow more fetid and her breathing has developed a rasp. Wasoshkinzig has taken it upon himself to build a pyre for his wife and I have dissuaded him to not do the same of Ogii just yet. I only broke from Ogii's side yesterday to pay my respects to Nibwaakaa. It is my understanding that not all members of the heard will be given such grand memorial. Indeed, with no internment possible beneath the frozen ground, many Goliath are left with their possessions and simply buried by the snowfall. But Nibwaakaa is special. Almost every member of the heard had something to say about her help. While Ogii had the gift of the healing touch, Nibwaakaa mentored Ogii early in Ogii's tenure as Ogimaa and taught her the basics of herbalism and how to draw healing from the earth.
As the service came to a close Wasoshkiinzhig composed himself and addressed the herd. While my Goliath comprehension still leaves much to be desired, I was able to discern the general context of Wasoshkiinzhig's proposal. The herd was without a healer, and without a leader. Without the protection of Makwaogiin, the herd was vulnerable to a repeat attack from the Okwiiniiwana. The herd had to decide what action to take next, and they were without their wisest members. Several options were proposed and most of them seemed to involve abandoning Ogii and moving somewhere else to stay ahead of the herd. Wasoshkiinzhig himself suggested the herd go to someplace called Basadina Manidoo because he belived that the Okwiiniiwana would not dare come there in frenzy. From this suggestion I gleaned that this Basadina Manidoo place was a sacred place that the three goliath tribes: the Nanaandawi, the Okwiiniiwana, and the Nagamon (of which I had never heard of), would come together in times of hardship and that no violence between Goliath had ever come to this site. This idea was instantly shot down as the herd members decried the mysterious ways of the Nagamon and their intimate interaction with the "Manidoo", the spirits. I did not need to understand all of the words to see the concern on the faces of the herd. They were afraid of this place, or perhaps the Nagamon.
No one seemed concerned enough to speak of saving Ogii. This level of disregard for the respected was something my soul would not acculturate to. Before I knew what I was doing, I heard my own voice, booming over the voices of the titans in front of me. I was not thinking about my words but I think I got the Goliath tongue close enough to get my point across. I asked the tribe how they could not think of someone who has given their life to protect them, who would give her life again to protect them if only they had the courage to stand up and save it. This challenge of honor did not sit well with the herd. A large male named Gizhide stormed over to me. At 3.5 feet my senior and almost quintuple my body weight he bellowed down at me, asking me how I dared to question their courage. My response was quick and the heat of the moment made my tongue limber enough to dance around the vowels of the Goliath language that so often fought me.
Pointing to the supine corps of the Okwiiniiwana leader I said, in perfect Goliath, that I had been the one to slay the horrible beast and that Makwaogiin had merely given him the mercy of a quick death. I told him that I had risked my life for Ogii because she had shown me that she would do the same thing for anyone of the herd. I dared him to stoop low so that I could repeat my insult to his face, but cautioned him all the same. In the heat of my barbaric rage I walked over, drew the giant dagger across the neck of the fallen Okwiiniwana warrior, severing it's head. Holding it up to eye level with Gizhide I made it perfectly clear, in his tong, that the last person who didn't take me seriously ended up stooping a lot lower than they expected to.
Gizhide eyed the head in my hands and then me. I could tell he was sizing me up. I was not sure what effect I was hoping to have with my brutish display, but it was too late now and I was going to suffer the consequences of my fate. Suddenly the unique sound of a Goliath's giggle rang out and I watched the color in Gizhide's face normalize. We ended our standoff and turned our attention to the source of the giggling. Wasoshkiinzhig was slapping his knee, just like Nibwaakaa used to do.
He raised a large finger at me called out "bangiinishkim!". The ice of my speech seemed to melt as the rest of the herd began to smile and jeer "bangiinishkim! bangiinishkim!" Even Gizhide had dropped his anger to join in the cheer. The syllables rattled around in my head for a movement. Wasoshkiinzhig saw me mind trying to piece together the annunciation. He clapped a massive hand on my shoulder and told me with a smile that they were calling me "Little Sharp Tongue". Wasoshkiinzhig capitalized on the moment and with a flourish of his native words it was decided we would go to Basadina Manidoo with Makwaogiin and push for help from the Nagamon.
Ogmar, Letandi Initiate

Entry 11

It would seem that there is more than mere superstition surrounding the Nagamon. We followed the lead of Gizhide's senses and Wasoshkiinzhig's wisdom as we crept north. Even for Goliath, the norther lands turn harsh. While the Goliath are well equipped for the cold, the native fauna grows sparse. The only surviving live tends toward monstrosities that have some sore of arcane advantage. The trees and roots grow desolate as well. We traveled for several days in blinding white conditions before I spotted beautiful color once more. It was a bush, but it may as well have been the sight of Viencia herself when I saw it. I rushed over, eyeing the bright red berries that hung from its tender thorny branches.
Wasoshkiinzhig caught me eyeing the branches, sizing up the risk I was willing to take for a bite of food. He told me that these were called Nishewinzo or "murder bushes" in the common tongue. He explained that we were in the harsh territory of the Okwiiniiwana and that this was their primary, if not only food source. Interestingly, the nishewinzos were not named that due to toxicity, but because they possess psychoactive properties that cause madness and a rage-like state once ingested. Wasoshkiinzhig explained that the berries were extremely addictive and the Okwiiniiwana grow up eating them. Eventually the toxicity is so overwhelming they persist in a permanent state of madness. This is why the rampage across the planes, plundering all in their path. Wasoshkiinzhig explained that the Okwiiniiwana that we encountered were probably outcast from the main herd of the north. When the blood lust and carving for flesh becomes too overwhelming for the main herd to deal with, the member in question is sent south where their withdrawal symptoms usually take them to an early grave.
I wish I had not heard this story. I prefered to think of the Okwiiniiwana as beasts of their own design, a depravity that we might eradicate from the land from a place of moral superiority.
No fires tonight Wasoshkiinzhig and Gizhide agree that we are already at risk in the middle of the Okwiiniiwana's patrolling grounds. I have spent most of my time by Ogii's side, though she does not offer the same warmth she once did. I worry we grow short on time.
Ogmar, Letandi Initiate

Entry 12

These damn lands have taken what little I had left. I was right to worry the night before. Makwaogii left in the night. I awoke this morning, partially frozen to her corpse. Wasoshkiinzhig was the first to suggest we allow the snow to burry her in peace. But I refuse. Much to the protest of the rest of the herd, I demanded that she finish her journey to Basadina Manidoo. This time I was alone in my plea. Even Wasoshkiinzhig was of the opinion that it was best to respect the traditions of the herd and leave Makwaogii with a honorable burial in the snow.
There was little time for fanfare. Makwaogii received a sad series of head nods as the herd passed by to continue to the north. I did not leave her side. Wasoshkiinzhig was the last to pay his respects. He sued for me to join him northward, but I would not, could not budge. Finally his pleading provoked my rage and I used my "little sharp tongue" to send him away.
I did not care for Goliaths any more. I cared for Ogii. Without here, I felt a certainty that the rest of the herd would not see the next thaw. Basadina Manidoo might offer temporary relief, trouble would come north if the Okwiiniiwana's machinations were left unchecked in the southern fields.
The story of the Goliaths would end, and I would just as soon not see that.

Entry 13

A storm has come in. I have spent all day, alone, next to Ogii's corpse. I am certain I will be frozen by the morning. I write this entry, pleading that those who find it remember that the "beasts of the north" can know peace, and can be reasoned with. Let this record be proof of that...
Ogmar Bangiinishkim, Letandi Initiate 

Entry 14

I have been saved! I woke up from what I thought was hypothermia with an idea, literally burning inside my mind. In a fevered dream, my frost bitten fingers carved strange runes into the snow. My tongue, dry and thick with frost, garbled words I have never spoke.
I am writing to you from the comfort of a strange new spell that I have never heard of. It is something new I think. For the first time in months, I am sitting upon warm, dry earth and enjoying temperatures that don't chill me to the bone. In my crazed casting, I seem to have erected some sort of invisible barrier. I only know it is there for the snow piling on the top of it. Inside it feels comfortable, like the warm stoned rooms of Varathorn.
I can only assume that my prayers to Ijos had not fallen of deaf ears. Of all of her acolytes, she has chosen to reach out to me. I have never felt particularly connected to Ijos until now. My work, despite Nil'Rem's insistence, has always felt like a side hobby for the library. Mundane in nature, it never felt like it served an arcane library well. But Ijos is the goddess of knowledge, not the the goddess of magic.
Still, all that I know has been written in this journal. I don't think I would be writing this if it was simply my knowledge of Goliath customs that was keeping me alive. No, I think this has something more to do with Ogii. She is here with me as I write this. The environment of my magical hut is causing her to thaw out. There must be something the Nagamon can do. I simply have to make it there. I remember the direction Wasoshkiinzhig was leading us. and 2 days ago we were a week and a half out. It is not much, but it is all I have to go on. The knowledge of this spell gives me the ability to beat these harsh climates, however my lack of food and ability to carry Oggi still pose great challenges. 
For now I will enjoy a much deserved rest before I start figuring these problems out.
Ogmar Bangiinishkim, Letandi

Entry 15

It has been two days. My hut has kept me from physical harm, but the psychological strain I have endured is of such strain that I am just now able to gather my wits and write it down. 
Two nights ago, my hut made first contact with the Okwiiniiwana. Not only were they unable to pass through, but they seemed unable to see me, though I could see them clearly. The light of the full moon made shadows and visions I thought sure to be illusions at first. But I found no such comfort in madness. I remember the first Okwiiniiwana I spotted walked right by the hut. I saw him from a distance as his eyes shown like a jackal's in the moonlight. This sight alone was unsettling enough and I instinctively grabbed for Ogii's corpse as the skull bleached woman staggered toward me. She shuffled by, oblivious to my presence. It wasn't long before more of her ilk appeared over the snow-duned landscape. Always, given away by the glair of their eyes. They began to appear in droves, more than 100 strong. several bumped into my protective barrier. A few tapped it and inspected it. It seemed at times they were looking right at me, yet each one eventually continued to shudder forward in a slow processive march. 
Finally, as I was beginning to gather my resolve, it was irrevocably shattered by something like a bray, thundering over the snow fields. Over the dunes and what must have been the very horizon itself, a horrifying visage, hundreds of feet tall, strode across the landscape. My heart stopped as I took in the splendor of the cloven hooved stayer like creature. Its head a decaying, bony thing with far too many cavities for natural organisms. Four former eye sockets, each pocketing a deep red moat of light. Like pools of fire burning from within. The beast called once more and instinctually the Okwiiniiwana surrounding him began to break into a four legged run, tearing up the landscape faster than their physiology should have allowed for. The creature strode through the chaos and stopped just in front my my barrier. It craned its neck down at me. This time I knew I was spotted. There was no doubt as those eyes seared into my  soul. Its chest heaved and it let out another baleful cry. I suddenly felt a tug at my robes. I craned my neck to look down and see Ogii, face bloated and slack jawed, lips curled up into a snarl. Her cloudy eyes looked through me as my screams were drowned out by the creatures howls...
...I awoke the next morning. Or at least it felt like the next morning. No disturbance in the snow, and Ogii still lifeless in the same place I lay her. Perhaps I have gone mad, but it felt too real to be a dream. The moon is already out of full, so I must have been out for more than two days...

Entry 16

Today has been a productive day. With the events of the past few days I decided to keep myself busy.