Wolverine and Spider-Man RPG Isekai Chapter 23: To Plieya, a Marvel + Dungeons and Dragons Crossover fanfic

Quick note: Dear beautiful peoples of the world, I am a dumb American who speaks exactly one language. Please forgive me for the sins I'm about to commit with Google Translate. XD Any actual speakers feel free to let me know of any mistakes or more accurate ways to phrase things and I'll fix it. (Transliterating was an intentional choice).

WOLVERINE AND SPIDER-MAN RPG ISEKAI EPISODE 23 : TO PLIEYA

From his fanged mouth, Wolverine's breath huffed in white clouds.

Sat on his knees in a cold stone room, he stared down at his reflection in the flooded floor. Even when the water froze solid and a pair of feet slid before him, he didn't look up.

A woman's porcelain white face joined his, staring over his shoulder in the gelid reflection.

He let out a breath.

"Hold your horses Winter, we're coming."

Seagulls squawked and yelled in the earliest light of the morning. Just as the first purple clouds of sunrise shown over the salty waves, an explosion sent the birds shrieking.

Claws ejecting, Wolverine flailed awake.

Accidentally shredding his blanketing, he leapt out of bed and threw open his inn room window. Black smoke was rising from a neighboring street.

With a growl, he charged out the door.

Stomping down the narrow wooden stairs, he was met with Wyn, Boksee, and Nih running out of the dining room.

"You all hear that?" he barked.

"Yes!"

Chasing after the rising smoke, the party members were joined by half a dozen other startled adventurers as they sprinted down the quaint streets of Filat. Forcing their way through a gathered crowd, they found themselves at the entrance of a back-alley courtyard.

"No need for alarm!" called a female voice. "It was a planned, controlled explosion! Perfectly routine!"

"Routine‽"

The crowd was forced apart by a uniformed officer, the town constable by the look of him. He stomped up to the woman and started to berate her.

"What did you do‽ You bird brained bottle maker, you rattled the windows of town hall!"

Unlike him, the picture of clean-cut lawfulness, the woman was a mess of frazzled hair, a thick metal visor and eccentric accessories.

"Did it rattle your ears too?" she demanded. "I just said it was a planned explosion!"

As the two got into it, the party took note of the scene. All the smoke, which was still pillaring as thick and as black as they had ever seen, was coming from a small metal mortar embedded in the center of the courtyard. Behind it, hunkered in a brick barricade wearing the same thick visors, a trio of younger men were grinning excitedly. One of them looked very familiar…

"Parker!" barked Logan.

One of the men turned to him with surprise.

Despite the authorities trying to keep him back, the aggressive mutant stomped into the courtyard and up to the barricade. The two other men ran out as he approached.

"What did you do‽"

"Why do you assume it was me?" Spider-man exclaimed defensively.

"It's always you!"

"I didn't explode it! I mean, is it my potion? Sure. But was I the one that technically cast the spell to set off the magical reaction that-?"

"Yah yah, shut up. You woke me up."

"Oh well see, that's the real issue here."

Logan let out a huff and looked around, his nerves settling as everything looked under control.

"By the way," he sneered. "Love the goggles. The mad scientist look really suits you."

"Hey, no matter what world you're in, PPE is very important," said Peter lifting the metal from his face and into his thrown-back hair. "Sometimes that means eye protection, sometimes that means an eight-inch wall of reinforced brick!" he shouted throwing his hands at the barricade with glee.

"Master!" called one of the younger men at the smoking mortar. "The magics are binding! It's stabilizing!"

Ignoring the constable, the potion master ran to meet her apprentices, Spider-man running past Logan to join them.

Grabbing a set of metal tongs, she lifted the smoking mortar from its base and carefully poured its liquid contents into a flask. It took a moment of bated breath, but the courtyard soon watched the smoke clear and the murky liquid fade into a smooth and perfect pitch-black onyx.

The potion master, her apprentices, and Peter all cheered.

"What is going on?" asked Wyn as the rest of the party finally wandered up.

"Fuck, never let the nerds have fun," groaned Wolverine. "They'll take out half the town."

"No, now that the potion's made this is where the real fun begins," said Peter. "I'll catch up with you guys later!"

Spider-man, claiming the tongs, grabbed the potion. Then he, the apprentices, and even the potion master all excitedly scuttled into the back of the apothecary, ignoring the crowd and law enforcement, and slamming the door behind them.

The constable massaged the bridge of his nose.

"Honestly, if she wasn't my wife."

With a couple days spent in Filat physically and mentally recovering from a surprise encounter with a dragon, the party was tying up their loose ends before their ride that morning.

Nih, again in his lighter tunic, quickly and elegantly snapped his sickle around himself and brought it down through a dummy's straw neck.

"Ah, there's the problem," said Wolverine.

In the field behind the town's adventurers' hall, four of the Far Marvels were training.

"What problem? I'm certain my technique was performed exceptionally," argued Nih affronted.

"Sure, but that technique ain't gonna do you shit."

Wolverine reached for his sickle. Cooly, the druid relinquished it.

"I know you elves got all the time in the world to waste, but a wide over the shoulder strike like this," he said slowly acting out the motion. "Especially by someone with arms as long as yours just takes too fuckin' long."

"I was taught to use my height to my advantage. A strong initial strike to a shorter opponent's neck quickly disposes them."

"And I'll bet whoever taught you that weren't six foot seven himself."

"Neither are you."

"Look, that might work if you're up against a monster, but if you're up against any guy who knows what he's doin', he's gonna see that and gut you like a fish."

He handed Nih back his sickle and had him stand mid strike.

"You're coming around like that, I'm a normal height guy, bam, right to the lung," he said popping his fist against the elf's rib cage. "Heaven help you I'm a dwarf, bam, there go your intestines. You're open, I'm gonna get inside fast, and now it don't matter if that's a strong strike, you're dead."

Nih relaxed and Logan took back the weapon.

"What you want to do is keep it short and quick. The back of this war sickle ya' got is sharp too. Keep it in front of you as long as you can."

Bending his knees, riding the balls of his feet, Wolverine brandished the blade before him.

"Elbow up, wrist firm, form a bar" he said patting his forearm. "Left hand's up, ready to engage. Hold your sickle right here under your sternum. A guy's coming at me, block, shove," he said acting out the motions. "When it's time to attack, fully extend this bar, right in front of you just to your collar bone, just like that. That way your body is never exposed. Where you're so tall that's going to bring the back of that blade right across the average bloke's chest. That'll do most of them in but just in case, use that leverage of yours to switch momentum. Lead with the right hip and send the hook of that sickle right back into the crook of their neck. Keep it close, kill 'em quick."

Wolverine stepped up to the training dummy.

"Pop pop!" he said performing the attack in a puff of stuffing.

"I see," said Nih more enthused.

"That wide strike ain't worthless but you shouldn't use it in a one-on-one unless you've set up an opening. I seen that liver shot you pulled off on Urrl so I know you've got some sense when it comes to hand-to-hand, you're just thinking 'bout it wrong. Give it a whirl," he said handing back his weapon.

As Nih started practicing, Wolverine, still shirtless and sweaty from his own training session, stood by to observe.

"Wow Wolvie," called Boksee. She was up on a ladder loading a rolling target into a ramp. "Walk my dad through a lesson like that and it might convince him to rank you up to ruby. Of course, he might try to dual class you as a fighter again."

"Ugh, guess it's a start," he grumped wandering away from Nih. He started shelving the enormous stone weight set he had been using with a few loud thunks. "I always hated doin' things the slow and steady way."

"I don't believe most would consider promoting five ranks in your first two-months of adventuring as slow and steady."

"Ain't eight."

"Well if you worked on your studies," nagged Wyn preparing her bow.

"Ready paladin?" called Boksee.

She nodded.

The ranger released the target and it rolled down the ramp and across the field.

Sprinting parallel to it, Wyn attempted to shoot it down. Only one arrow managed to land and even then it was off the target.

"Shit," she breathed jogging to a stop.

"I tell ya' tuts, you gotta watch your language," tormented Wolverine from the sidelines.

She gave him a glare.

"You'll get it silver," encouraged Boksee. "Here's my suggestion. Instead of training to fire an arrow mid run, it'll do you much more good to practice stopping and firing as quickly and cleanly as you can. Here watch."

She let loose another target wheel.

Leaping from the ladder, the half-halfling rolled to land, popping back to her feet to give chase.

Instead of sprinting with it, she stopped and fired off three arrows in rapid succession, all three landing on rings, before chasing after the wheel again and firing two more shots, again both landing.

"Oh!" exclaimed Wyn.

"It is possible to fire while running," explained the ranger. "But that's some high-level technique. For a clonker like you without an emphasis on archery, practicing your quick draw is much more worth your while."

"Thank you; that's very helpful. I'll take your suggestion."

Boksee's pointed ears blushed and she gave a nod.

"I tell you, if you would have told me a few months ago I would be giving tips to the silver rank of Boar Bramble…"

"Why?" asked Wyn. "You're the best archer in town. We just discussed how that's not my emphasis."

"Oh paladin," said Boksee at Wyn's thick head. Then she smiled at the compliment and motioned her on. "Work with the launcher. It's better suited for what you need."

As Wyn went off to practice, the stout half-halfling looking pleased with herself, Wolverine stepped up behind her with a black aura grin. She froze in terror.

"So then butterball," he leered. "While those two are doin' that, I'm pretty sure we've got an endurance run lined up this mornin' don't we?"

Boksee's face twisted into a pained smile.

"Ehhhh?" she asked turning to him.

"Indeed," said Wyn. Stomping a wooden platform, a target was tossed up before her and she nailed it with an arrow. "We all are going to need to be at the top of our game to confront Winter. Nih and I did ours yesterday."

"Spider-man doesn't have to do it?" demanded Boksee.

"Spider-man performed his endurance beating a dragon until his feet bled. He gets a few days off."

"The third hill is an affront to all creation," said Nih decapitating a dummy.

"Ooh."

At that moment, the very wall crawler came running.

"Well speak of the devil," said Logan.

"There you guys are!" called Peter from the fence.

"Yah, actually trainin'. Foreign to ya' huh?" the mutant snarked.

"I did it! It's done! You've got to check this out!"

"Oh thank the divine," said Boksee escaping from Wolverine.

As Spider-man hopped the fence and hurried over, the party put away their weapons and stepped up to meet him.

"So, you gonna show us what damn goo was worth blowin' up the town?" asked Logan as they gathered at the back wall of the hall.

"It was a planned explosion that didn't cause a single bit of collateral damage. Do you know how rare that is for me? But yes."

He pulled out a web cartridge stained in black.

"Guys, we did it, the potions store guys and me, this is an antimagic webbing!"

The party looked surprised.

"Are you serious?" asked Boksee.

"Yah!"

"How? What happened to needing an eye of a beholder?" asked Wyn.

"Well that's the thing!"

Spider-man pulled out a jet-black reptilian tooth. The tip had been sliced off.

"This is a scalamagdrion tooth. I was reading in Amefottoamd…"

"What?"

"Arch Mage Exella's Fundamentals of the Theory of Advanced Magical Disciplines. That title is way too long and Arch Mage Exella should be ashamed. Anyway, a potion of antimagic is insanely rare. You should have seen the horrifying old tome the potion master dug out for the instructions. There are only two sources of captured antimagic: beholders, and scalamagdrions."

"I've never heard of a scalamagdrion," said Boksee.

"They're a rare minor dragon I believe," said Wyn. "Best known as trained guards for important magical relics."

"Right," agreed Peter. "I've only ever seen two drawings of them, but both had them holding a spell book so I guess that's their thing. Anyway, beholders shoot antimagic out of one of their eyeballs so that's why you can use that, but scalamagdrions shoot it out of their throats."

"That is where dragons cast their magic from," agreed Nih.

"Right. But that means that over time their teeth are slowly imbued with it. Teeth are great at storing magic as it turns out, or antimagic I guess. The point is you can use scalamagdrion teeth! And I've got one! And so, now I have antimagic."

"Where'd you get it?" asked Boksee.

"Filat."

"As in here?"

"No the guy."

"Just lifted it right out of his tomb, huh?" accused Logan.

"No," said Peter offended. "It was a gift. Filat gave it to me himself."

"Sure."

"He did! It was a reward for beating the dragon. But, you know, I also think he might just be the kind of guy who likes to seed chaos."

"Can't imagine why he was interested in you then."

"But something's been bugging me," said Boksee. "Did you really need all this? I mean, couldn't you have just swiped some of Wolvie's pelt?"

"Huh?" asked Peter.

"I think the fuck not," snapped Logan.

"It's made from crag cat. That has antimagic properties, doesn't it?"

"No, that's just magic resistant," Peter dismissed.

"What's the difference?"

"Oh-ho! I know something about the magic system that you don't now?" grinned Spider-man diabolically. "Now who's summoning the clouds?" Then he relaxed and ran a hand through his hair. "Honestly though," he admitted. "I mean, in the way I'm using it its fairly similar in application. Before seeing the scalamagdrion I was even planning on just settling for a magic resistant web since it was better than nothing, but Nih already offered me some of his hair for that."

The rest of the party gave Nih a confused look and he gave them a smile and a shrug.

"Don't ask," continued Peter. "But antimagic is so much better! You see magic resistance is more of a catch all term. It's like armor. Just like there's lots of reasons why a sword might not be able to pierce something, there are lots of reasons why a variety of magics don't affect something very well, so I've read anyway. Antimagic on the other hand is a very specific and active force. Antimagic, like magic, is a property of the universe. It's not the null, not the absence of magic, but the equivalent and opposite force to it. It's not armor, it's an opposing sword."

The party just stared at him.

"Maybe I should just show you."

"Ya' think?" grouched Logan.

He loaded his black stained cartridge into a web shooter.

"Check this out!"

Aiming at the back of the guild hall, the hero shot out a black orb web, but it was no ordinary black. It was the blackest thing any of them had ever seen, perfectly matte with no shadows or highlights. It appeared less like a web and more like a shattered crack in reality, the silken strands so utterly Stygian they almost had an anti-glow, if that was even possible. Light seemed to dim around them.

The native adventurers took a startled step away from it.

"Unlike magic resistance," said Spider-man completely unphased. "Which just like any armor can be forced through with enough umph, this stuff creates a separation in the magical weave of reality. By the laws of this universe it is literally impossible for any magic to cross it. End of story."

"W-What‽" exclaimed Wyn. "It separates the very magics of the world‽"

"Yah, isn't that-"

"Like the magic holes?" exclaimed Boksee.

Nih had his hands up and was feeling the air.

"No! Well yes, but in the right way," argued Spider-man.

"Of course you'd come to someone else's dimension and start destroying the fabric of reality," said Wolverine in disbelief.

"I'm not destroying anything!" said Peter defensively. "I just learned a function of the universe. Here look."

He started weaving regular webbing between his hands.

"Oh here we go," grouched Logan.

"I've been reading about how magic functions, like on a universal level. In this world magic travels a metaphysical weave that runs through all reality," he said spreading his hands to reveal a thick weave of webbing. "It's what Nih is always going around feeling."

"Like the intertwining roots beneath the forest floor," agreed the druid.

"Right. The magic holes were bad because they were cuts in the weave," Spider-man explained. "But cutting isn't the only way to make a hole, that's what antimancy is all about. Antimagic is a force that lets us manipulate the weave, like a needle, or a finger," he said holding up his two indexes.

He stuck them into one of the gaps in his web.

"You don't have to cut anything, you can just…"

He spread his fingers apart and the weave opened wide.

"Move the strands out of the way."

The druid was processing the explanation thoughtfully.

"If magic traverses the strands, then magic can't be where the finger is. That's all," Peter concluded casually. "Take the finger out, aka the web dissolves, and the strands go back in place. No harm no fowl."

Wyn and Boksee were still looking at him with dismay.

"You read a single book," started Boksee. "No, a single section in a single book… and created something that separates the strands of reality?"

"I mean, I didn't invent it. I just got the stuff to make it. It's a potion that already exists. I think you guys are making too big a-"

"You can't heat a bowl with magic and somehow you feel confident enough to start manipulating the magical weave of the universe‽" demanded Wyn.

"Look! barked Spider-man finally losing his patience. "We wanted a strategy against a chronomancer! Well, this is it! It's impossible for any spells to pass through this webbing. We don't want to be turned into dust, well, thwip, and Winter's mouth is webbed. Thwip, thwip, and so are her hands. No spells for Winter."

At that Wyn stopped.

"Webs…" she said in realization. "That's actually brilliant."

"Yah I know."

"Is that how that works? Spells don't, uh, come out anywhere else do they?" asked Logan to Nih.

"It would be extraordinarily difficult for any spellcaster to direct the mana properly under those circumstances," said Nih thinking. "Any spell of consequence that is, at least without extensive training for such an event, and even then if the rest of the body was also bound…"

"Cocoon her afterwards too, got it. Look, I know I sort of messed things up with Summer," said Spider-man. "I know I put us all in a lot of danger but I don't think I was wrong. We have to try to talk. Winter is our only, and I mean our only lead on how we got here. This will let us do that," he said motioning to his shadowing web. "It's not even real antimancy. It's just some antimagic that already existed in the world moved into a different physical medium," he said holding up his black tooth. "Just trust me on this ok? Besides, how can we go in there guns blazing when we don't even know if she's actually done anything? Just because two of the seasons were up to no good doesn't mean they all are, right?"

"Um, summoning a fae demon?" said Boksee.

"That could have been an accident."

"What about shishkabobbing my fuckin' head?" demanded Logan.

"She could have done a lot worse in there right, but she didn't. That counts for something doesn't it? If we talk you can ask her about it."

Wolverine crossed his arms.

"But Spider-man," said Wyn. "You do understand, if diplomacy fails, if we discover she's engaged in nefarious acts or if this webbing idea of yours falls through, we have to be on the same page. We can't afford to hesitate. The power of a chronomancer could far exceed that of a necromancer or war mage. If she goes for the kill, we have to meet her with equal force. There can be no room for mercy."

The party turned to him.

The young hero baulked at the callous declaration. Then he grimaced and shook his head.

"I… I can't do it,"

"Oh for the love of…" started Wolverine but Spider-man threw up a hand.

"I can't do it. I won't take her life, not like that. But, but you're right, a chronomancer could just be too dangerous, especially with other people involved… but I can't…"

The party watched as he struggled. With a hard breath, his razor-sharp eyes finally lifted to focus on them.

"If we can't stop her," he stated pointedly. "I won't stop you."

Logan met his gaze, waiting for him to faulter but Peter held his ground.

"I won't stop you," he repeated.

"Um, pardon me," said a strange voice.

The party turned to see a courier at the fence.

"Far Marvels, I have a letter addressed to The Wolverine," he said holding it out.

Logan raised an eyebrow. Walking over, he took it and the star struck courier took his leave.

"Who's writing you letters?" asked Peter. With a relieved breath, he casually tore down his terrifying web and wadded it into a ball. He shoved it in his pack as the group moved to hover over Logan's shoulders.

"No clue."

"It's from Isal Shanta," said Boksee.

"Who's writing you from Isal Shanta?" reiterated Spider-man even more confused.

Ignoring him, Wolverine ripped open the envelope. He gave the message one quick glance before his eyes snapped open.

"That smug son of a bitch!"

Crumpling the letter, he threw it on the ground then stomped away.

The party leapt to grab it. Wyn got it first.

"What's it say?" asked Boksee excited.

It was extremely short, consisting of only five words.

"Tárklawō," Wyn read. "I see now. - Kuonrat"

She made a face.

"I don't get it."

"Me neither," said Boksee.

Nih snorted a snicker.

The party looked to him.

"It would appear Wolverine's collegial chieftain has reached an understanding why Spider-man of all people was deemed worthy of brotherhood," he explained. "I can only assume this means he has gotten word of the dragon punching."

"You got all that from that?" asked Boksee.

"Why does that involve swearing at his Conan friend?" asked Peter.

"I have come to appreciate the amount of subtext barbarians are able to deploy within their brevity," answered the elf. "By saying he sees Wolverine's reasoning, and therefore heard about the dragon, he is also stating that he knows Spider-man specifically defeated the dragon, and therefore he knows, and felt it necessary to write that he knows, that Wolverine, in the same circumstance… did not."

"I'm gonna tear his gizzard out the next time I see him!" shouted Wolverine in the distance.

The party burst out laughing.

"I'm amazed word of the dragon punching has already made it past Lornsbury," said Boksee as they made their way up the wharf. Seamen and villagers waved as they passed.

"And back," added Nih.

"Do you think anyone from Ries will come looking for us to ask about it?"

"I'm not sure," said Wyn. "Possibly, but I thought we did a fair job recounting the events for the local authorities."

"Speaking of which, I'm not trying to toot my own horn or anything, but if we're the same rank who's in charge of the party now?" asked Spider-man. "Like officially? On paperwork?"

"It's still me," said Wyn. "I have seniority as I've been a silver rank longer."

"Ok, that makes sense. I honestly wouldn't want to be the party representative or anything. I barely know what's going on around here half the time," he laughed.

"We know," teased Boksee. "Even if you're our great silver ranked dragon puncher, you're still the team weaner."

"A silver weaner," he corrected with pomp.

"Yes, but as a silver weaner…" started Wyn.

"Oh no. Don't call it that! Regret!"

"You especially need to be working on your studies."

"Does separating the strands of reality not count?"

"Your web work is very impressive, but it's a bit of a pet project. You need to work on your fundamentals. Work on familiarizing yourself with local encounters, weapons, fighting techniques and battle strategies. As a silver rank, other adventurers we encounter may look to you for guidance."

"Oh crap."

Wolverine snorted.

"And don't think you're getting out of this. You need to catch up. Do you really want this guy ahead of you by three ranks?"

Logan groaned.

"Don't rub it in tuts."

"You know, that does raise the question again," said Boksee. "Cujo might think he's figured it out, but I still haven't. Dragon puncher or not, what by thunder made you pick this goob as an honorary brother?" she asked Wolverine. "It was you who did it, wasn't it?"

"I said don't worry 'bout it," he gruffed.

"Yah, don't say it out loud like that," added Peter.

"I assumed it was their excellent natural synchronicity," said the druid.

"Those two?" asked Wyn in disbelief.

"Come on. It can't just be a matter of strength," continued the enthused halfling. "There must be some story in there. We've all already shared our personals. You can tell us."

The mutant rolled his eyes and skulked away.

Wolverine and Spider-man were in their inn room starting to pack up.

"Oh no," said the younger man pulling up the shirt of his spider suit. There was an open seam right in the arm pit. "Seriously? I thought I got all these. Man," he whined.

Digging out his well-used sewing kit at this point, Spider-man hopped up on his bed's headboard, hunching as he put needle to fabric.

"I'm going to be in rags soon if this keeps up."

Wolverine looked at his own clothes laid out on his bed. His barbarian pelt, as well as his usual hide vest, were both torn clean in half, shred apart from a curious dragon claw.

He scowled.

"I should just open a tailoring business at this point with the amount of sewing and-or sewing metaphors I've had to do lately," Spider-man continued to complain. "You know what I miss about home? My effing sewing machine, or at least my spare suits. Ok, technically I got it from Aunt May but…"

Logan covertly watched the other man's nimble fingers quickly and almost mechanically weave the needle in and out, in and out. He gave a tug and the long thread ladder pulled the busted seam back together.

"Hey, who does the X-Men's costuming?" Peter continued to ramble. "You all don't do it yourself right? Wanna give me their number? Imagine getting to offload costume maintenance on someone else every so often," he chuckled, then he sighed. "Ah, you know that's a pipe dream Parker. That would require having money…"

"Hey," said Logan.

Spider-man looked up.

"Wanna throw some of that this way?"

The older man threw the four halves of his two hides onto the bed before him.

Spider-man gave them a look.

"Um, why?" he asked.

"You blind? They're ripped."

"Right, but why should I do it? I'm sure you can figure out how to stab something with a needle."

"I can sew," Logan growled. "…it's just…" he mumbled. "You're better…"

"I'm sorry. What was that?" tormented Peter.

"I said you're better at sewin' than me!" barked Logan loudly. "I don't want it ruined. Not like that's anything to be proud of! You pick all that up from your gran?"

"Aunt May, I just said that. And wow, here I thought you were asking me for a favor."

"I didn't pick one fight at your party. You owe me."

"You not being a menace is that much of a tax on you?"

"Just fix my clothes will ya!"

"Not with that attitude! I know we share a house but we agreed we were both the bride. If you want your clothes mended I better hear a 'please' followed by a sincere 'thank you Spider-man' after I agree AND after I give it back."

"You want me to suck your dick while I'm at it‽ Fuck you! I'll fix it myself!"

Grabbing his clothes and thundering out of the room, he slammed the door with an unusual amount of force, even for Wolverine.

At that Spider-man puzzled.

Some time later, a shirtless and very sweaty Wolverine made his way back to the inn. After a few aggravating minutes of delicate needle work, he'd decided he'd go for his run after all.

Jogging up to the barrel he had stashed his still very ruined clothes in, he found it empty.

"Oh, for the love of all holy fuckin' shit…" he started. Then he thought.

Stamping into the inn and back up the narrow wooden stairs, he opened the door of his room to see his clothes neatly folded on his bed.

Walking up, he lifted his prized barbarian cloak to find all his shitty stitching had been carefully removed and replaced with one perfectly straight slip seam down the pelt's entirety. From the fur side it wasn't even possible to see it had been torn.

He smiled.

"I'm pretty sure I still owed you one for getting me that first apothecary lesson," said Spider-man's voice.

Logan turned to see him leaning in the doorway.

"You know, the reason I got to make all these crazy new webs in the first place," he said looking at his wrist.

The old mutant blinked, then relaxed into a crooked grin.

"Aw, how sweet of ya'," he said throwing on his cloak. "And here I didn't even have to suck your dick."

"I'd sooner ask the Lizard. Don't worry. I made sure to hide a secret heart in the stitching. Good luck trying to find it."

Logan gave him a punch to the shoulder and the two men grabbed their packs and headed out.

"Hey, before we hit the road, I wrote this letter. How do I send it?" asked Peter.

The party was back on the wharf, getting ready to depart by carriage.

"Who you writin' letters to?" asked Logan.

"GG. I wanted to tell him about all these dope new dopes."

"That's cute," said Boksee.

"Yah yah. I've just never used the mail system."

"You can just take it over to the courier office. I'll show you."

"I'll come," said Logan.

"Why?" asked Peter.

"In case I need to send a letter."

"Are you going to mail back your barbarians?"

He didn't reply.

With a jingle, they stepped into the courier's office. For being a place where mail was handled it was surprisingly dark. Thick wooden shelves, and nooks, and cubbies lined the small office from floor to ceiling and a library's worth of stationary seemed to have been stuffed across the back wall. At one end of the room was a behemoth of a desk and behind it, like a judge sat high overlooking the room, was the office clerk.

"Oh, dragon puncher," he said happily looking up from his work. "Welcome Far Marvels."

"Hey," answered Spider-man as they stepped up to the counter.

"You see what they do," said Boksee motioning to the clerk's high desk. "They make these things so tall. It's always so awkward on us short ones."

"Madam if you need aid I can…" started the clerk but Boksee cut him off.

"No, no. I can reach. Just, why?" she huffed as the metahumans grinned at her expense. "Now then Petey-boy, just hand the nice clerk your letter and say where you want to send it," she instructed.

The clerk gave them a look.

"He's actually from out of the country."

"Is that right? The mates and I were wondering about that outfit. Where are you from?"

"Queens," said Spider-man, much to the clerk's confusion.

"Um, to Boar Bramble," he said handing him up his folded parchment.

"Any personal recipient?"

"Huh? Oh, Gustel, Gustel of Boar Bramble."

"Very good." The clerk flipped over a few pages in a fat tome and gave it a squint. "That'll be three bits."

"Um, bit?"

"Just give him a copper," said Boksee.

"Here," said Spider-man doing just that.

The clerk took the coin, then walked it over to a metal section of the desk. Placing it down he grabbed a hammer and chisel.

With a bang loud enough to make both foreigners jump, the clerk nonchalantly hammered the coin into pizza slices. He scooped three into the till and handed him back the rest.

"That's different," said Spider-man.

"Ha, pieces of eight," said Wolverine amused.

"Is that what that means?"

With ink and quill, the clerk elegantly addressed the letter. Then he grabbed a long tube of wax.

"Calefacere," he said aiming a pair of fingers at it.

The tip of the wax tube melted and dropped onto the letter, then was stamped with a loud thump with the seal of Filat.

"Thank you for your patronage," he said pleasantly.

With all the exciting things like sewing and mail out of the way, the party of adventurers finally hit the road. A pair of strong horses and a chipper coachman merrily trotting them toward their last stop, the Far Marvels were enjoying the long-missed luxury of getting to watch the expansive green countryside pass by out a breezy window, and not inching by laboriously on foot.

"Oh, it feels so good to not have to walk," sighed Boksee in the back of their carriage. Despite being sandwiched between the two silver ranks she had room enough to stretch her arms over her head with a satisfying pop.

"We've even got cushions this time," said Spider-man petting the modest butt padding. "I've always wondered what it feels like to hit the big time."

"How long 'til the ferry town?" asked the ranger.

"Nine hours or so I'd say," answered Wyn.

The party groaned.

"Oh quit your grousing. And here you were just praising the fact we didn't have to walk."

"Yah, but that was two seconds ago when I was young and innocent," said Peter. "Before I realized I was going to have to spend the next nine hours in a confined space with someone who couldn't have been bothered to wash off the sweaty dog smell before we all stacked in here," he said sourly waving his hand at Logan.

The mutant, who was still sweaty from his morning workout, gave him a look. Then a malicious grin stretched across his face.

"Ahh, you know what kid, you were right. It is pretty comfy-like back here," he grunted leaning back and resting his arms behind his head, letting his freakishly hairy armpits into the free air.

"Oh no! Kill me!" cried Spider-man.

"Logan put it down!" exclaimed Wyn.

"Ahhh," he said spreading his thighs, crowding out Nih and getting comfortable. "Oh yah. Nice carriage ride, cool breeze. I could go to sleep, just like this."

"See! He does this on purpose! He wants me to suffer!" shouted Peter.

"Well if you didn't leave him such wide openings!"

"Wolvie, I live in the woods half the time and I smell better than you," bemoaned Boksee.

"Yah. I actually went on that run, unlike you butter ball. Ya' smell that? That's the smell of athletic perfection."

"Agh."

"Someone throw him in the creek!"

"You know kid, with us living ass to ass all hours of the day I feel we don't spend enough time together. Darlin', trade me places so I can get real up close and personal with him."

"Ranger don't you dare!" cried Wyn.

"Wolverine," said Nih cooly sat beside him. "If you do not lower your underarm away from my face I will be forced to cleanse the air by cursing you to grow thorny roses from your grotesquely hairy crevices for the rest of your unnaturally long life up to and until your body decomposes. Do you understand?"

Nih's blank red eyes started to radiate.

Wolverine put his arms down.

Some hours later, after party discussions of chronomantic strategy and every day inanity, Spider-man had half his head laying out the carriage window while he napped.

"Yah…in a web…" he muttered. "Yah… wha? Nah…huh?"

With a snort, he came to. The back of his head was alive with jittering tingles.

"Hey, I'm getting some spider sense," he voiced sitting up.

"What?" asked Wyn.

At that moment their carriage came to a stop. The adventurers popped their heads out to see a tree was fallen over the road.

"It could be highwaymen," said Wyn leaping to her feet, mace flying from her hip. Her eyes were ablaze with urgency.

Wolverine reached up a hand to her armored shoulder. She looked to him.

"Yah, seems like it," he grunted casually. Then he stood, gently shoving her back into her seat. "You all hang tight a minute."

"It's that way," said Spider-man throwing a thumb.

Two bandits leapt from the bushes blade in hand.

Launching open the door, Wolverine leapt out of the carriage, landing on his feet, teeth bared and frothing.

"WHO THE FUCK WANTS SOME‽" he roared.

He threw up his arms and ejected his claws.

"What the hells‽" shrieked a bandit.

The pair turned heel and went running, the party laughing as Wolverine chased them down.

Pulling his claws back in, he knocked one over the head then chucked him into the air just for a web line to snag him.

Spider-man, now straddling atop their carriage roof, yanked the bandit toward himself, catching him by the collar. He shot blobs of webbing at the one still running, tangling her arms, legs and mouth. She hit the ground hard.

"Sweetheart, did you pick the wrong hit," jeered Logan picking her up and tossing her over his shoulder. "We got room for some cargo?" he called to their coach master.

"No sir," the coachman called back with a grin. "Too much weight on the horses. We'll have to send back an authority from town."

"Huh. Looks like you two will just have to hang around," the mutant grinned at his captive.

"Nice!" called Peter.

With the webbed bandits left wriggling from a branch over the road, Spider-man casually pulled the felled tree out of the way.

As Wolverine hefted himself back into his seat, Wyn was giving him the biggest grin.

"I think I was right," she said. "It's nice having a friendly wolf around."

"When he's not stinking up the carriage," muttered Boksee.

"No use lettin' the dames roll around with the dogs," said Logan giving her a grin back.

"Am I a dame?" asked Spider-man sliding back in through the window.

"No, you got out."

"So I'm a dame," said Nih.

"You two stop ruinin' my moment!"

With a laugh and the snap of the reigns, the party was back on the move.

"So what's the deal with this Plieya place anyway?" asked Wolverine changing subject. "You all've been sayin' it's eternal winter there but we've been aimin' south this entire time. How'd that happen? You all were sayin' it was like a curse, yah?"

"Indeed," said Wyn.

"Like actually cursed, or urban legend cursed?" asked Spider-man.

"The curse is certainly real," said Wyn. "As the history goes, it was a man who was originally cursed. He was damned so that everywhere he walked the land would turn bitter and cold."

"As cold as his heart," interjected Nih.

"Right, as cold as his heart."

"How'd he get cursed?" asked Peter.

"The reason varies," explained Nih. "Sometimes it's told that he incurred the wrath of a powerful spellcaster. Other times he received karmic punishment after stealing an ancient treasure."

"After he stole bread from some orphans," added Boksee.

"Evil man, cursed to cause winter. Got it," said Logan pointedly.

"Right. No matter what time of year, no matter where he traveled, it would start to howl and snow," continued Wyn. "At first, no one could figure out where the mystery snow was coming from, but soon, word began to spread of the horrid man who brought it. He could never stay in one place long.

"One day, the man was found on the far-off island of Plieya. The townsfolk were so enraged by the death of their summer crops that they found the man and beat him, cutting off his legs so he could never walk anywhere again. No healer would touch him and the man died."

"That's horrible!" interrupted Spider-man. "The town murdered a man?"

"What's horrible is that such a selfish man nearly killed off an entire island. He could have cut off his own legs at any time. They did what they had to," she retorted.

"Aye, except it didn't work," said Boksee.

"In fact, they had doomed themselves," said Nih. "Because Pleiya was the last place the man ever walked, presumably off a boat," he added with a smile. "And he never walked away, the curse never left. The town and the island have been coated in snow ever since."

"Sounds like the townsfolk got what was comin' to 'em," said Logan.

"Perhaps," said Nih. "The old Plieyans had to flee. Many perished. The one's who didn't had to begin life anew in far off towns. As for these days, Plieya is quite the popular site of tourism and industry."

"You serious?" huffed Logan.

"Indeed," said Wyn happily.

"Best place for harvesting ice all year around," said Boksee.

"A novel and scenic venue for all manner of leisurely activities. Oh, and they have the most luxurious baths in all of Strana," said Nih.

"You had me at baths!" said Spider-man excitedly.

"But that's what was mentioned last."

"That's when you had me."

At long last, their carriage pulled into a scurrying town at the edge of the sea. With several grunts and groans, the party unloaded themselves and worked out their stiff legs.

"Welcome to the town of Keyptaun," read Peter walking up under a large wooden sign. "Gateway to Plieya?"

"It's pronounced kape-tun," corrected Wyn as the team walked past.

"So, it's just cape town then. Why's it spelled all weird?"

The settlement was built around a main strip that led to the docks. Reminiscent of Isal Shanta, it was a market of hospitality, though obviously lacking the grace and grandeur. Several inns and pubs and eateries could be seen crowding between dozens upon dozens of vendor stalls and store fronts.

Piles of foods, toys, gear, and especially clothes were haggled over by the crowds of medieval tourists as their sellers advertised them to passerby.

"Shuba! Get your shuba!" called a merchant in front of one of the larger store fronts. "Going to Plieya? You'll need a good shuba!"

"What's a shuba?" asked Spider-man.

"Type of coat," answered Wolverine.

"How do you know?"

"'Cause I speak Russian."

"Yah right, you barely speak English. Wait, why is there Russian? Isn't English like the only, uh, you know, normal language around here? And some Latin I guess."

"Don't know. They've been sprinklin' in weird little bits of Russian all over the place."

"Seriously?"

"Yah, the country's name is 'country'."

"What?"

"Strana was named after a war chant at the battle of Ries," said Wyn clonking up behind them. "Eta nasha strana, this is our country."

"See, Russian," said Logan.

"What's rushing?" asked Wyn.

"It's 'eto' though tuts, not 'eta'," he corrected. "You're puttin' too much hard 'ah' on that unstressed syllable. And remember you gotta use the neutral form when it ain't modifying the noun."

"Oh," she said intrigued.

Spider-man whacked him in the shoulder.

"Don't come to someone else's dimension and lecture them on their own national slogans," he scolded, then he did a double take. "Wait, what? Oh my gosh, you really do speak Russian!" he exclaimed, much to the mutant's apathy. "How? Why?"

"Weil ich viele Sprachen spreche," answered Logan flatly. "Hornochse."

"That wasn't Russian! That was like German or something. How are you doing that? What did you just say?"

"Anata wa bakadesu."

"Ah!"

"Anyway…" said Wyn giving them a confused look. "Everyone purchase yourselves some clothes and whatever gear you'll need. We'll need full builds for harsh winter conditions. I'm going to go purchase our passage to the island."

As the paladin clonked off, the rest of the party started perusing the market, and frankly they were spoiled for choice.

Coats as long as gowns and capes of bright colorful patterns seemed to cater to the well-to-do, while shorter and plainer clothes sat at the bottom of the price ladder.

Purchasing full sets of winter clothing - underlayers, under layers for the under layers, boots, gloves, etc. – they were finalizing their builds with their main coats. The one best suited for their needs seemed to be a popular choice, a hooded sheepskin kaftan lined with fleece.

"Buy a size that feels loose," said Logan to the party as he tried one on. "We've got a lot of underlayers."

"Well said sir," said the merchant.

He gave him a look.

"Do you have any shorter ones?" asked Boksee.

"Of course madam. We have a wide selection sized for dwarves."

Boksee bit back a groan but went with him to find one that fit.

Nih walked up wearing a pair of archaic goggles, a mask of wood and leather with two little slits to see through.

"Good call elf boy," said Logan. "Don't want snow blindness. Where'd you get those?"

The elf pointed to a stall.

"What a wonderful invention. I might wear these outside the snow," said the drow happily. "So much easier on the eyes."

"Everyone should get a pair, and a set of snow shoes by the looks of it, poles too," instructed Logan. "Picks… Hold up, are those fuckin' skis‽" he husked excitedly wandering off.

Spider-man was poking around some gloves when Wolverine lumbered up beside him.

"Here," he said thrusting a long pair of wooden planks into Spider-man's arms, much to his surprise.

"Check out these beauties," said Logan fawning over his own set. "Hand carved, real leather; steel tipped poles, I think there's whale bone in the hilts here. You owe me a gold."

"Are these skis?"

"No, they're bread paddles," said the older man rolling his eyes. "Thought we'd make some pizza out in the snow."

"Why'd you get these?" asked Peter confused.

"I don't know how much distance we're gonna need to cover," answered Wolverine dropping the sarcasm. "I figured even if no one else can ski, we both got the stamina to just carry them if we get in a jam. One of us can even travel on ahead if need be. Rather have them than not."

"Um, I feel like you're making some assumptions here, the most pressing of which being the assumption that I can ski."

"You can't ski‽" demanded Wolverine taken aback. "Mr. Fuckin' falls from the sky off a dragon and swings across the city can't slide down a hill on some sticks?"

"Well excuse me for never having the time or money to take bougie mountain top vacations."

"Bougie my ass. Alright, I'll have to give this a think."

"Sure, you do that."

"There you two are."

The pair turned to see the rest of the party walking up.

"I- Are those skis?" asked Wyn distracted.

"No, they're pizza paddles," chirped Peter.

"Can you two ski?"

"I can," said Logan. "Any of you?"

"Nope," said Boksee.

"Huh," said Wyn. "Claws, I'm adding that to your skills list. Anyway, I've purchased us passage for tonight's midnight voyage," she declared. "That should have us arrive at Plieya with the sunrise. In the meantime, I suggest everyone get some sleep. Let's hit the ground running tomorrow."

"Two naps in one day?" said Peter excited. "I'll get more sleep than I've gotten in years!"

In the dark and damp of the early night in the coastal village, the sound of a far-off bell could be heard ringing beyond their inn room window.

"Hey, get up," grouched Logan shoving at Peter's sleeping lump.

"Huh? Oh, my joy can't be over already, can it?" it slurred.

The mutant ripped the blanket off him.

"That's six bells. It's eleven. Get up."

"Oh no. The bells are back. How the heck does six mean eleven?" he grumped hiding his face in his pillow.

"Come on. I don't wanna get stuck in the crowd," he said kicking at him. "Elf boy-"

"I'm awake," sighed Nih already walking around.

As Spider-man rolled out of bed, literally rolling onto the floor with a thud, Logan stomped out and over to the next room.

He hammered on the door.

"Gals! It's eleven, get up!"

Noticing the lock was loose, he forced it open and threw his head in.

"Gals-"

"AH! Logan!" snapped Wyn.

"What do you have I haven't seen before‽ Get up!"

Joining a few other early birds, the party made their way down the dark strip toward the docks.

"Ughhh," groaned Peter rubbing an eye. "And you guys wondered why I missed coffee so much."

He took a drink of his water and smiled.

Lit by moonlight and lantern, one grand sail boat was moored at the market side of the docks. Three masts, a dozen sails, it towered into the starry sky, putting anything they had seen in Filat to shame.

Peter stopped, staring up at the triumph of nautical engineering.

"That's, that's not our ship is it?"

"You see any others?" asked Logan.

"It is. Why?" asked Wyn.

"That's an awfully big boat."

Spider-man hurled over the gunwale.

Several miles out to sea, the party was meandering about on the deck with a hundred other passengers, the summer wind whipping the cloaks of napping tourists.

"Ughghghg," he moaned.

The sight and sounds of Spider-man's sick prompted Boksee to start up again. Feet dangling off the floor, she hopped up to hang over the tall railing and hurled her guts out. Spider-man grabbed her.

"Ha," laughed Logan watching them. "Web head gets sea sick. Who knew? Guess spiders ain't a fan of the high seas."

"Shut it Howlett!" he snapped rounding on him. "I have an incredibly acute sense of balance!"

"Spidey, we've got to call it," groaned Boksee falling to the deck.

"Cocoons of safety?"

"Cocoons of safety!"

"Let's go find a broom closet or something."

The two staggered to their feet and scuttled below deck.

Several hours later and a dwarf came by rattling a bell.

"Hear ye! Hear ye! We'll be entering the chill. Everyone make yourselves ready."

Wyn, Nih, Wolverine, and most of the other passengers moved below deck to change into their Plieya attire.

"Hey, we're about to enter the freeze," said Logan at a pair of cocoons he found hanging beneath a stairwell.

"Muchos gracias senior sideburns," joked the larger cocoon wriggling.

"Não mencione isso," he replied flatly.

"Ah! You speak Spanish too‽"

"Yah, but that was Portuguese."

"What is going on? How are you doing that?"

Logan grinned as he walked away.

"Boksee he called me out on my bad Spanish," said Spider-man's cocoon. "I feel personally attacked."

"What's Spanish?"

"But honestly, not as attacked as this one time that I…"

As the ship did little but ferry visitors and cargo back and forth from the island, besides cabins for the higher class, below deck was sectioned off into two halls. Logan joined Nih in the male's side to change.

"…And that's when the fire department showed up," he heard the larger cocoon still rambling as he headed back. "Moral of the story, the Spanish words for closing something and for sawing something sound very similar."

Boksee's cocoon paused.

"Spidey, I think you might be the one in need of a good exorcism."

On the stairs ahead of Logan, a confused passenger stopped and looked over only to blanch at the sight of the man-sized cocoons.

"If I were you buddy, I'd just keep moving," said Wolverine ushering him along. "Believe me, it's better for your sanity."

Wyn, Nih, and Wolverine returned to the warm summer deck. Along with the passengers, the crew had also switched into their winter clothing, but like them, had yet to put on their final layers.

"So where's this freeze then?" asked Logan.

"I'm certain it will make itself evident," said Nih.

On cue, the ship started to teeter and lurch, the waves intensifying in size and swell. The crew shouted as they leapt to compensate.

"Here it comes!"

A wall of frigid air slammed into the crowded deck, ice flakes singeing skin and nearly knocking men from their feet.

"Good lord," said Wolverine as the party quickly threw on their coats.

Passengers cried out and huddled. A small child screamed at the top of its lungs.

"You were told, keep the little ones below deck 'til landfall!" shouted the dwarf aiding the family down the stairs.

As the ship tilted sideways, Spider-man, still just in his usual civies, came running.

"Is everything ok?" he asked sprinting up to the party. "I heard screaming- HOLY!" he exclaimed clutching his arms around himself. Frost was already gathering in his hair.

"Go get your clothes on; you're gonna freeze!" order Logan.

"No need for alarm!" called the dwarf ringing his bell, his beard encrusted in ice. "Just a touch of unpredictable gales. We've all seen far worse."

The passengers hunkered to the floor as the ship lurched and the wind howled, the crew shouting as they fought to keep steady.

Boksee finally ran to catch up. She was wearing her cocoon like a blanket.

"Would you two go get dressed!" ordered Wyn.

"We thought something was wrong!"

"Does anyone see the island‽" barked Wolverine, his face to the blasting wind.

"Yes!" answered Nih. "Directly ahead!"

It was a hazy grey in the earliest hours of the morning when the ship was pulled to dock. Out of the gloom, a long pier stretched out to meet them. Its planks and pillars, like a hundred spindly legs, stilted over the frozen sea to find open water, and it was evident that it had been extended several times since its construction.

A boarding ramp was thunked into place.

"This way to Plieya," called another bell ringer from the dock as passengers began to disembark.

In their full winter adventuring gear, the party stepped off the ship. With furs, and belted kaftans, and thick underlayers, each party member had incorporated their usual gear and armor in with the new warmer stuff. Wyn had managed to stuff several layers of fleece beneath her breast plate and added a new cloak. Wolverine was letting his furry pelt hang freely from his shoulders.

"I hope no one expects any great acts of wall crawling," said Spider-man in the same thick boots and gloves as everyone else. He pulled his new fur-lined hood up around his mask. "At least without me catching frost bite."

"You run around in the snow back home," said Logan.

"Forgive me for not realizing I needed to pack my winter grade spider booties when I unceremoniously spawned in this separate universe," he snarked messing with his sleeves. He had cut holes in his gloves for his spinnerets and web shooters. "Even then, I think these arctic temperatures might have little ol' New York beat on that front."

Along with full packs of new equipment, skis on the backs of the two metahumans, the party had all their weaponry at the ready. They were trying not to arouse concern, but each adventurer was keeping their wits about them. They supposed it was a bit silly to worry Winter might know the exact moment of their arrival, but it was better to be careful. For now, they were moving with the crowd.

Traversing the long boardwalk, over the salty waves and creaking ice sheets, the island of Plieya came into view.

It was desolate.

There were no trees, or plants, and very little stone. As far as the eye could see it was a barren expanse of snow, the eternal wind hissing across the snaking, frozen dunes. Even still, the pilgrimage of Stranan tourists were already enjoying themselves. Groups chatted and children played.

"Ok, I'm not entirely seeing the appeal yet," said Peter. "We're pretty far north, I think. Do you guys not get enough of this stuff in the winter?" he asked scooping up a snowball and launching it into the air. A few youngsters stopped and watched in astoundment as it disappeared into the sky.

"I certainly do," said Nih. "A hideous time of year, but it's the town proper that's the draw, as I've been told."

"Don't judge a bird 'til you see it fly," said Boksee. "Then again I've never seen this bird myself so…"

"This way," called the bell ringer leading them down a marked road.

It took a few miles of hiking, but eventually, just in time to be greeted by the new day, the party and pilgrimage crested an overlook.

The town of Plieya came into view.

With the bright summer sun rising over the surrounding hills, the eternally snow-laden village was set alight, sparkling in the golden rays like a town made of diamond.

It was a cozy town, a warm town, nestled within its snowy burrow in the valley of the island.

It was a town built around a central cathedral, an ice-crowned behemoth of gothic architecture that declared itself against the empty blue sky and held all land surrounding it safely within its presence. Behind that was a lake, the village having grown around its shores. Frozen for a hundred generations, the party could see it was already covered in skaters and games.

From every picture-perfect building, from picturesque inns, to pubs, to shops, vibrant tapestries and buntings flew in the winter gales, their bright colors only matched by the long coats and capes of the tourists who walked beneath them.

Renaissant ice sculptures stood preserved in endless winter while fountains of enchanted flame danced in icy courtyards. Everywhere the adventurers looked people were taking advantage of the wintertide merriment, skating and skiing and sledding and sleighing.

Magic lanterns floated through the air like flower pedals.

"Alright," said Peter. "No, I see it now."

"Wow, this is like something straight off a Christmas card," said Spider-man as they made their way through town. They moved to the side as a sleigh drawn by reindeer was trotted down the way. "Woah, literally."

"You mean krissmas time?" asked Nih.

"Yah. You know it?"

"You sang about it once."

"I did?"

"Yes, in the Excorium."

"Oh, oh yah. I'm surprised you remember that."

"I may not be a bard, but as a druid of the land I am in the business of remembering the songs and histories."

"Well, we're here," said Wolverine quietly. "Anyone see any raging chronomancers?"

They looked around at the cheerful alley of tourists popping in and out of jingling doors and exploring what the town had to offer. Nothing seemed out of place.

"Maybe we can ask around?" said Spider-man.

"You'd think if she was so insistent on us coming here, she'd be ready to receive us," grumped Boksee. "For good or for ill."

Wandering down the street, they approached the cathedral. It was a hard building to miss. A monk in fur-lined robes was standing on its steps.

"Recognize the stages of cold death," he called educationally as passerby stopped to listen. "For you and your fellows. The shivers, the confusion, the blanching, the exhaustion, and the visions. The cold plays tricks with your mind, tricks you into stripping naked to quicken your death. Don't get caught alone or you may find yourself in the death spiral."

"Is that true?" asked Wyn.

"I think so," said Peter. "Hypothermia can cause hallucinations, one of which makes you think you're too hot, ironically. I'd call that a death spiral."

"It's true," grunted Logan.

"Huh," she remarked.

"And by thunder stay away from the spirits if you have to travel!" called the monk.

"Greetings brother," said Wyn as the party approached.

"Well, greetings to you paladin," he returned cheerfully. "And to you adventurers."

"Is hypo- uh, I mean, is cold death a big problem around here?" asked Spider-man.

"A problem? Oh my brother, we must heal a dozen victims of the cold a night. People arrive for merriment and forget to bring their heads."

"Oh, healers can be guys?" asked Peter randomly distracted.

"Why couldn't they be?" asked Boksee.

"I don't know; I haven't seen any."

"Most healers actually are nuns," explained Wyn. "Since every town needs midwives, practically every town has at least one convent. Monasteries can usually be found either in the larger cities or in isolation."

"Convents are gals, monasteries are guys," grunted Logan to Peter's blank mask.

"I knew that!"

"Plieya is unique in that regard as she has no convent," chatted the monk. "No one lives here so there's no need. Heavens help the rare mother who accidently delivers on this miserable island. Brother Leutwin serves as her midwife," he said cringing.

"No one lives here? Like there are no residents?" asked Peter as the party looked concerned.

"That's correct. No one could be settled here, or at least no one would want to. Even we monks only spend a few years here as a place of trial and meditation."

"That's very useful information," said Wyn. "We're actually looking for someone. Brother, are you aware of any great wizard on this island?"

"A wizard? Not to my knowledge. There are some mages who work as entertainers. They didn't oversell themselves to you, did they?"

"No, I don't believe so. Thank you."

With a nod, the monk returned to his educational callings and the party continued on.

"Oh no. I have been worried maybe she just lives around Plieya, like Summer did to Little Monds. I hope we didn't take that damned boat all the way out here for nothing," said Boksee.

"Just because that guy doesn't know her doesn't mean she's not here," argued Spider-man.

"But no one lives here."

"Permanently. Maybe she runs a business or something."

"I suspect if she is here, she may not have made her true magical capabilities known," theorized Nih.

"Oh, maybe. Maybe she actually is one of those entertainers," Spider-man chuckled.

"These pretentious fucks? No way," grouched Logan.

Wolverine was starting to get a bad feeling. For reasons beyond his understanding his adrenaline suddenly spiked and memories of horror threatened to overtake his consciousness. He snarled and thrashed his head.

"Logan, what's wro-?" started Boksee.

"Oh! What's that?" asked Spider-man excited.

They saw a man tending to a strange animal. His head clearing, Logan felt himself reorient. Puzzled, he quickly gave the halfling a pat and the party wandered over to look at it.

The animal was tall, about the size of a camel but more robust and built for speed. It had flowing white fur that hung around its hooves, curved neck, and off its raised tail. It was reminiscent of an antelope, though much larger, with tall horns like a pair of crescent moons. They were wrapped in vivid red, a lantern suspended between them, and upon its back - a matching red harness, saddle, and trappings.

"I… don't know," said Wyn cocking an eyebrow.

The man tending to it, himself wearing a matching thick and fur lined red uniform, must have heard them because he answered.

"This is a khuyik," he said fastening its saddle.

"I've never heard of that," said Wyn interested.

"You can't ordinarily find them in Strana. We started importing them from the northern plains a few decades ago. No better mount for the snow, at least for our job. They've done pretty well here. The stables just had a great calving season."

"What's your job?" asked Spider-man.

"I'm an officer of his highness' royal rescue. We're a specialized branch of authority here in Plieya to seek and rescue the stranded and lost."

"What a noble profession," chirped the paladin.

"Is that that much of a problem here?" continued the other silver rank.

"The town may be as pretty as a painting but this is a vast island of eternal winter. Even experienced travelers can get caught in the unpredictable weather. So many adventurers were sent on rescue quests that the crown decided there needed to be a dedicated task force, especially with so many adventurers never returning themselves."

He turned and for the first time got a look at the group. His eyes focused on Nih, then quickly took note of the rest of the distinct collection of adventurers.

"Wait a moment. By the king's beard, you aren't, you aren't the party who found the dragon are you?"

"Indeed we are," said Wyn surprised.

"By thunder! Did that actually happen? I mean, we've all read the report but we just can't believe there was truly a dragon this close by."

"Believe us, it was a surprise to us as well," said Boksee. "We were just hired to dispel the rumor."

"Then who… you‽" he exclaimed snapping to Spider-man. "Was it you? It was you wasn't it? The one who ran it off? Who snapped off its horn? The one clad in red and blue."

"Yah, that's me."

"By thunder you are so much smaller than I imagined."

"Oof, and it begins."

Logan grinned at his suffering.

"What was it like fighting a dragon?"

"Hard."

The officer waited for further explanation.

"Um, exhausting? Painful. Very stressful. Not the best repartee to be honest. I guess dragons aren't known for their banter."

"Wow," said the officer enthralled. "Well, dragon fighters or not, if your quests lead you out of town be careful out there. There is no greater foe than the land herself, and much can hide in the snow."

The search and rescue mounted his beast.

"If you're ever in trouble, look for the red light," he said motioning to the magic lantern between the khuyik's horns. "The men aren't going to believe you lot are in town," he grinned.

With a snap of the reigns, the officer galloped away in a kick of white spray.

"Looks like there's no welcome wagon," concluded Logan looking around.

With Winter still having failed to make an appearance, and after several more rounds of asking random locals for clues, the party was stood out of the way behind some shop by the lake, their efforts so far fruitless.

"What now?" asked Boksee.

Wolverine looked to the looming frigid hills.

"You think she could be outside of town anywhere?" he asked.

"It's possible," answered Wyn. "I don't believe there are any other settlements, but there are other areas of interest visitors frequent. At least according to my new Plieya guide," she cheered happily pulling out a pamphlet.

"Paladin, you bring me joy," said Boksee.

"Summer was rather isolated," said Nih. "It's possible Winter is using this remote location as a place of hiding."

"Especially if she also happens to be building a super weapon," said Spider-man sat over them on a ledge. "Afterall, the right location is the number two consideration when investing in evil lair real-estate."

"What's number one?" asked Boksee.

"Good ventilation."

"I suppose I can try looking into these other island locations," said Wyn half-heartedly brandishing her pamphlet. "See if any of them speak to me," she shrugged.

"Oh yah. See if any of them have an evil lair aura," agreed Boksee.

"Mm," grunted Logan. "You three keep diggin' around. See if you can't pick up a trail, yah? If we've got a minute, there's somethin' important I gotta take care of."

"Sure," said Wyn reading. "Ranger, does Dead Man's Ridge have evil lair aura?" she asked seriously.

"Mmm, it might be trying too hard."

Wolverine latched a thick hand around Spider-man's ankle.

"And I'm gonna need to borrow this one."

"Heh?"

Skis fastened and poles in hand, the two metahumans stood atop a high snowy hill.

"And we're wasting time on this because...?" asked Spider-man.

"We ain't wastin' time. This is some crucial trainin'," gruffed Wolverine affronted. "We're in a hostile environment and I ain't gonna be the only one that knows what he's doin'."

"Yah, hostile, that's how I'd describe this."

The younger man looked over to see a pair of boys laughing as they took off down a sled.

"We don't even know if we're going to have to leave town yet," Peter continued to argue.

"Just in case. 'Sides, I gotta feelin'."

Wolverine shook his head, clenching his eyes with a snort.

"Woah, are you ok?"

"Huh? Yah, yah."

Spider-man gave him a look, then he turned and watched another group line themselves up and take off skiing. The old mutant had found them a popular spot for it.

"I'm surprised they even have skiing here. With all the travel and equipment you need, I always thought of it as more of a modern sport."

"Modern? Fuck kid, skiing is ancient. And it ain't just a sport," Logan lectured. "Skiing is how you move in the mountains and on the tundra. It's ancient, was made for hunting. And from Finland to the Kodiak, troops to this day are still training on ski warfare."

"Huh, the more you know."

As Logan prepped, Peter looked at the long snowy slope and cringed. The other man noticed.

"What, ya' scared?" the mutant jeered. "I thought you liked a thrill, the wind in your mask."

"Yah, but on my terms, not held hostage by a pair of six-foot planks tied to my feet," he said raising a foot. "It sounds like the fastest way to break a leg."

"Not if you do it right."

Bending his knees, Wolverine pulled down his slitted goggles and assumed the skiing stance. Spider-man already had his mask on.

"It's all about where you put your center of gravity. Keep it forward, or keep it very forward. Side to side. No leanin' back."

"Ok. But if skiing is so useful why isn't everyone here getting a lesson?"

"Eh, it probably wouldn't do them much good. Cross country skiing ain't somethin' you can pick up in a day. Maybe darlin' could get her feet under her but I ain't convinced it's worth luggin' around another set of skis."

"Then why am I here‽"

"Figure it out! And quit stallin'."

"I'm not stalling!"

"These are your poles," said Logan holding one up. "Important piece of equipment and some very technical terminology. To get yourself going, just stab these in the ground and give yourself a pull."

"And how do I stop?"

"Make pizza."

"What?"

"Good luck kid!"

With a yank Wolverine flew off the hill.

Spider-man watched as he disappeared down the slope in a spray of snow, cackling the entire way.

The hero sighed.

"Do you see what I have to deal with?" he complained at another group getting ready beside him. Then he looked back down.

"I don't suppose any of you know what pizza is?"

Effortlessly dancing his weight side to side, getting a feel for this ancient equipment, Wolverine flew down the frozen face of the hillside. Gaining confidence, he sped faster, curved sharper, popping his skis off the ground and antagonizing the slope with explosive spins and sprays.

Ice whipped his grinning face as he breathed with the shape of the wild terrain. If there was anything that got him feeling right it was the sting of the arctic wind. He was letting the land tell him where it wanted him to go, feeling himself float at dizzying speeds when he agreed, then thrilling in its bark and snarl when he told it no.

Landing from a jump, he hit the snow with a laugh, his shoulder nearly scraping the ground as he carved sideways. Reaching the bottom, he snapped himself around in one fluid move and brought himself to a stop.

"WOOH!" he howled sliding backwards. "That's the winning ticket! Now, let's see if kid chickened out," he snickered pushing up his primitive goggles.

Spider-man came tumbling down the slope in a ball of limbs and skis.

"Kid!"

Wolverine skied up just as Spider-man slid flat on his back in front of him.

"You alright?"

Peter groaned.

"I don't think I made pizza."

"Well look at that. Guess you ain't a wiz at everything from the word go after all," the mutant jeered.

A web was shot between his eyes.

"So see, you angle your noses together," said Wolverine putting the ends of his skis together. "That's called plowing. See that vee? For the kiddos and weaners I hear them call that a pizza slice. That's how you slow down."

"You could have just said that."

"You can spread the threads of reality but can't figure out a triangle?"

"Oh shut up."

"When moving on flat ground you can just walk," the mutant continued using his skis like snow shoes. "But that ain't gonna get you anywhere fast. Get some speed by movin' your feet in an outwards vee. Poles, right foot, poles, left foot…" he said sliding forward.

"Oh! It's just like skating," said Spider-man daring to mimic his movements.

"Yah, it's like skating, four-legged skating. That should be familiar to you."

The two skated their skis across the flat ground.

"Woo! Shake those hips gramps!" called Peter following behind.

"Enjoyin' the show, runt?"

"Ew no!"

They laughed.

"Alright, let me show you how to turn."

"If you hadn't noticed, the world ain't all flat and downhill. You're gonna have to take your skis uphill too."

Again using his skis like snowshoes, poles anchoring into the snow, Wolverine started walking up the ski slope.

"If the incline ain't too bad this can get you there, but if you start slidin' you're gonna have to make more pizza, the other way. He formed a backwards vee with his skis, noses going wide at the front. "We call that the herringbone," he said, then proceeded to duck walk. "Got it?"

"Yah. That makes sense," said Spider-man as he gave it a try.

"Good. Yah, that's it. Oh, but one last thing."

Gliding over to him, Wolverine grabbed ahold of Spider-man's shoulders, his legs jumping up and clamping around his waist, skis sticking out everywhere.

"AH!" Spider-man exclaimed from the sudden weight.

"Herringbone!" shouted Logan as Peter started sliding backwards.

"My feet keep thinking they can just stick to the inside of my boots."

"Knees bent! Weight forward! Where's that fine sense of balance‽"

On his slippery skis, Peter managed to adjust himself to the new top-heavy balance, the man on his back weighing double what he did.

"Good. Now," instructed Logan. "You're gonna give me a lift, all the way to the top, and don't you drop me."

"Seriously?"

"You can lift a truck. I ain't nothin'. Move it!"

Peter grumbled but turned.

"Did I ask to get drafted into Logan's boot camp?" he griped starting to waddle his skis up the hill.

"That's the thing about the draft kid, you don't ask."

"Up, down, up, down," called Wolverine shifting his weight as he glided side to side down the slope.

"You make it look so easy!" called Spider-man following behind with a far stiffer and unsure gate.

"You think this looks easy? Watch this web slinger!"

Wolverine zipped himself sideways and off a ledge. He did a backflip before landing in a puff of snow.

"WOOH!" he howled carving back onto the path.

"Show off!"

"They don't call me the canuk for nothin'!"

"Gah!"

"Weight forward!" barked Logan still skiing ahead of him.

"How did you even see that‽" Spider-man exclaimed quickly forcing himself back into the right position.

"I heard your squealin'!"

Weight shifting, skis turning back and forth, Spider-man curved his way down the slope. Feeling a little brave, he dared to jump, popping himself off the ground for a fleeting moment and landing back in rhythm.

"YAH!" he shouted successfully bringing himself to a stop at the bottom of the run.

Wolverine, skis stacked beside him, was leaning over a stone wall.

"Well, you ain't winnin' any metals," he grunted. "But we should at least be able to get somewhere."

"Up yours! For two hours of skiing I'm doing amazing!"

The mutant gave a husky chuckle, steam rising from his fanged smile.

"Yah," he admitted. "I knew you'd pick it up quick. Of course you would."

Shooting a web line to a nearby building, Spider-man pulled himself forward.

"Hey, look at this," he said starting to slide around by pulling himself on web lines instead of with his poles.

"Oh good, that way someone can haul your lazy ass around," the mutant ragged.

"Are you volunteering my jackass princess?"

Logan grinned, then pain shot through him. He screamed and grabbed his head, adrenaline exploding through his blood as he was plunged backwards into freezing water.

He was in his tank, his skin, muscle, and bone punctured with needles and tubes, the respirator strangled around his mouth.

He roared another scream, searing pain shooting through his arms as his claws ejected.

Ice was fractalizing around him. Through it, through the glass that tormented his nightmares, through his deranging vision, he could see the unmistakable phasing face of the shredding woman. She was just standing there, observing him.

His freezing blood boiled in rage.

Air popping and hissing, blood and metal clouding the water, he flailed to slice himself free.

Glass shattered as he launched himself forward, his mutilated body hitting a hard floor with a slap.

He wasn't in the lab.

He didn't recognize where he was. He had never seen it. He was in a castle chamber, for once, the shredding woman looking perfectly in place.

He didn't care about that!

Lunging for her, she unleashed her scream. Wolverine dropped, hands clutching his ears as his brain liquified.

He didn't care about that either!

With a wail he charged forward regardless, forcing himself back to his feet. Something hit him! He staggered but kept attacking.

Still shredding, still screaming, the open face and organs of the woman started gliding backwards. In a froth of claws and shouts he chased after her. Like he was a thousand feet underwater, he heard screams and cries as he chased her down a castle hall.

She stopped before a window. Just as he made a final lunge to skewer her, something connected with his ribs. The air was ripped from his lungs with the force of a truck, his body spun and thrown, flung right through the shredding woman, through the window shattering it as he tumbled out of the high castle.

In agony, he landed flat on his back on a set of stone stairs.

The woman had turned. What was left of her grotesque form was standing in the broken window high, high above him, still screaming. He could see the full castle now, its ruined spires covered in snow in the howling wind.

Panting and snarling, Wolverine tried to get up, tried to continue the fight, but found he couldn't move. His arms and legs felt welded to the ground.

He bellowed and roared as the woman continued to stare down at him, her flesh still phasing and voice still screaming.

Just barely audible, a sound started to cut through the murk.

"…uh, you know I was just joking about you pulling me around…"

What the fuck was that‽

"No need to flip out. I thought we were joking around with the cute nicknames but I can drop it if it's really this upsetting. Was it the princess or the jackass that set you off…?" continued the intruding voice. "…At least you weren't attacking me this time…"

Who the… Parker!

"…or, uh, maybe you're just stressed. Yah. I mean, new environment, new clothes, that, that could be a little stressful, right? I mean… if you're one of those kinds of people… Myself, I can't stand wearing tuxes…"

He tried to ignore it, tried to keep his attention on the woman, to lunge after her, to chase, to attack, but he couldn't move. He couldn't concentrate!

"…I'm…I'm just going to keep talking. That's supposed to help right? Oh, was it the boat ride? Do you get sea sick too? Is that your secret…?"

"ARRHHH!" he roared. "SPIDER-MAN! SHUT UP!"

Suddenly, he was back at the ski slope, but everything was upside down. Drenched in sweat, snarling and panting, he feverishly looked around. His spine was bent backwards over the stone wall, his arms and legs webbed out like he was a sacrifice on an altar.

"Hey it worked!" exclaimed Peter. "Logan, what happened?"

"She was in my head!" he barked coming back to his senses. "She forced me in!"

"Who? Winter?"

He threw his head in a nod.

"While you were awake‽"

Pulling his dagger, Spider-man cut him free.

Wolverine saw there was a crowd, the other skiers and sledders huddled away from him, a few weapons drawn. He smelled blood. A uniformed authority ran toward them.

"He's alright," intercepted Spider-man as Wolverine pulled himself up, hands clutching his temple as he tried to figure out what had just happened. "-what? It's broad daylight, no he's not turning into a werewolf!"

"Keep it away from us!" cried a woman.

Wolverine turned back around to see women and children were screaming. Two boys were cowering behind their crashed sled, one's head busted open. Men were hovering with swords.

He turned away with disgust.

"Why would you let that thing on the island‽" demanded a man.

"Hey!" snapped Spider-man.

From out of town, the rest of the party came sprinting.

"Men! What happened‽" exclaimed Wyn.

"Logan are you-" started Boksee.

"She was showin' me where to go," the mutant growled in realization. "That's why she pulled me in. That bitch!"

"What?"

"Where's there a castle around here?"

Wyn pulled down a fat tome from a dusty library shelf and threw it to the table.

They quickly flipped through the pages.

"There!" shouted Logan, the book opened to a drawing of the very castle he had just been running through. "That's it! That's where she is."

"The manor castle of Old Plieya," read Wyn.

"Old Plieya? That's somewhere out on the island, isn't it?" asked Boksee.

The paladin pulled a map.

"Here," she said pointing. "It's nearly a day's journey away, and that would be if it was over normal terrain. Who knows how long it would take us to walk there in these conditions."

"I told you we needed that ski training!" barked Logan.

"Oh, um, should everyone learn?" asked Spider-man.

"There's no time!"

"Wait! We don't have to walk!" exclaimed Boksee. "I saw the sign in town. Everyone, follow me!"

Wolverine was stood at the edge of the frozen lake. Far, far from any skaters or merrymakers, he stared down into his grizzled reflection with disdain.

"I don't know if you can hear me like this," he watched himself say. "But I got the message, you, Winter, whoever you are, we're comin'," he and his reflection spoke to each other. "SO LEAVE ME ALONE!" he roared. "YOU HEAR ME‽ WE'RE COMIN'! LEAVE ME ALONE! STAY OUT OF MY HEAD! YOU BITCH! Just, just give me some…"

"Wolvie?"

Hands clamped over his head, spit dripping from his fanged mouth, the mutant stopped and turned. Spider-man was standing anxiously behind him.

"Is she there?" he asked.

Wolverine blinked, then he shook his head.

"Ok. Um, they're ready for us now."

The Far Marvels stepped into the reindeer stables.

Despite his edge, Wolverine felt himself relax at the sight and smell of the large domesticated beasts.

"Alright, these are your five," said the stablemaster motioning to a set of stalls. "You treat them well adventurers. It's an extra three gold if I find any blood, eight gold if I spot a limp, and twelve if one doesn't come back!"

"Sheesh," said Peter. "At those prices I might be the one carrying the reindeer." Despite his snark, he was beaming with excitement as he picked one out to rent.

These reindeer were larger than the ones in Wolverine and Spider-man's world, the size of healthy horses, though it wasn't clear whether they occurred naturally like that or they had been bred to be proper mounts.

"I've never tried talking to a reindeer," said Boksee. Holding out a hand and muttering a chant, she wandered around the offering before landing on one willing to converse.

"Aha."

Her eyes changed to match its and they started huffing at each other.

"Hey, what are you saying to one of my girls?" demanded the stablemaster.

Wolverine approached a stall and tried to give the deer a pet.

It snorted and took a snap at him.

"Woah ho," he said dodging. "Looks like you're the bad bitch of the group ain't ya'? Heh," he said amused. "I'll pick this one."

"Are you leading this group?" the stablemaster asked him.

"Hrh? No."

"You are if you're mounting Tomila."

"Tomila huh?" He noticed the reindeer had their names on their harnesses.

"She's the dominant female. She's a pain in the arse to get going in the right direction, but the rest of the cows will follow her."

"Will they now? Well shoot, guess I'll…"

"I think you should take her," interjected Wyn trying to negotiate her own beast. The deer she had picked was backing away as she yanked at its reigns. Nih was standing by enjoying the show. "I've never been great with animals and you're just as skilled with a map." She let out a huff as the deer won and retreated to a back corner.

Pulling a seed from his sleeve, the druid calmly chanted a spell and regrew it back into a fresh apple, or at least something that mimicked the flavor and texture. He offered it to Wyn's deer enticing it back out.

"Thank you elf," she said defeated as he gave her a grin.

"You're right, but you're wrong," said Spider-man now leaning atop his caribou. "Wolvie should be at the front, but that's because he was born in a snow bank, presumably in a litter with Dog and Sabertooth."

"You callin' my mother a bitch‽" he snapped.

"No!" Peter exclaimed throwing up his hands. "No no. What I'm saying is James Logan 'Canuck' Howlett should probably be the one leading our little arctic expedition here, if all that skiing just taught me anything."

"Oh," said Wolverine thrown off his train of thought. "Uhh…" he groaned looking off unsure.

"You're the one Winter is giving instructions to," agreed Boksee.

"Yah, that's the problem," he snarled.

He thought it over a second.

"No, yah, you're right. I'll take point on this one," he said to the team. "I've spent more time in the arctic circle than this one's been alive," he said thumbing back at Spider-man. "I'll get us there," he declared firmly. Then he turned back to his mount. "Hear that Tomi girl? Guess you and I are stuck together," he said giving his doe a pat.

If a reindeer could look at him sourly, it did.

The party was making their final preparations.

After purchasing food and supplies, they were choosing what to pack and what to leave at the inn.

"There are base camps set up around the island," said Wyn showing Wolverine on a map. "This one seems to be midway between here and Old Plieya. We need to head there for the night."

"Mm."

"We picked up everyone a new health potion and potion of warmth," said Boksee handing Peter his.

"Is a potion of warmth for hypothermia?"

"That's cold death, right?"

"Yah."

"Then yes. They said it will help revive someone if they get too cold."

"Handy," said Peter holding it up. "Wonder what they put in it."

As Wolverine strapped his pack to Tomila, Spider-man came riding up behind him.

"And you made fun of me for getting riding lessons," he said happily trotting his deer in a circle.

Logan blinked as he remembered something.

"Weren't we fuckin' cowboys together at some point?" he asked confused.

With their gear and supplies loaded, the Far Marvels mounted.

Hooking her boot into the stirrup, Wyn vaulted up onto her tall antlered beast. Cloak whipping in the wind, the armored paladin turned to her party.

"Alright then, this is it. It's a two-day journey forward and back into unforgiving terrain and an encounter with a powerful magic user, perhaps the greatest we've yet to face. There is no promise of return. If anyone wants to back out, this is their last chance."

No party member moved.

She gave a nod.

"Then let's ride."

Wolverine walked his deer to the front.

"Hyah!"

With a crunch, a cloven hoof spread itself across the snow.

Built for the tundra, the small herd of reindeer had no trouble traversing the loose ground, that is, when they felt like it.

"Come on Tomila, you've had your fill," grunted Logan pulling on her reigns. Reluctantly, his deer stopped chomping snow and resumed walking.

The island of Plieya was vast and empty, the bright summer sun providing no warmth but igniting the barren white plains in an oppressive glare.

Wrapped from head to toe in hoods, furs, cloths and cloaks, slitted goggles protecting their eyes, the Far Marvels trudged their mounts across the endless wisping dunes.

"Sheesh, they weren't kiddin' with this one," complained the oldest man getting his deer back in formation.

"At last found someone to challenge your hard headedness, have you?" teased Boksee.

"Webs, how do you live in one of these things?" fussed Wyn. She, along with everyone sans Spider-man who was just wearing his usual mask, had wrapped the exposed areas of her face in cloth.

"The key is to never catch a cold. And for the love of all spider heaven make sure you pull it up if you need to sneeze."

"I can confirm," groaned Boksee.

It was ironic. Despite the frigid temperatures, without their protective clothing, the threat of sunburn and blindness was very real. The air around them was cold, painfully cold, inexpressibly cold. Even through their layers upon layers, the adventurers could feel the wind trying to eat away at them, forever searching for the slightest opening to find bare flesh and consume it.

Wolverine freed a hand from the reigns and gave it a shake. His metal knuckles were sticking through the new stab holes in his gloves. Tomila felt the moment of weakness and tried to pull off again.

"Hey! Come on! Tomi!"

"So, elf," said Boksee. With no animals, or plants, or people it was silent, grotesquely silent – only the crunching hoof steps and the endless wind. "Know any nifty snow spells?" she asked trying to keep the conversation going.

"I can melt it, but I doubt that's incredibly interesting. No, I'm afraid the ice and I have never agreed. Winter is a time of dormancy, a time for the natural energies to recharge. It's not true of all druids, but I have always found winter to be my weakest time of year, and this land puts all other winters to shame," he said facing the icy breeze. "The wild energies have thinned to nearly non-existent, no plants, only the most specialized of fae. No, far from any new spells, I'm afraid I will be relying far more on my own mana than usual here," replied the drow dourly.

"Translation, everyone be especially careful not to break any health potions," said Wyn. "Our druid's at a disadvantage."

"And your Spider-man," said Spider-man. "I feel hamstrung enough wandering around out in the usual wilderness, but here, I've got nothing. No walls, no structures, no trees, not even solid ground," he said looking out at the endless white horizon.

His reindeer mooed and he gave it a pat.

"At least we're heading for a castle."

"Woah, hold up," sounded Boksee. The party pulled their mounts to a stop. "Look there," she said pointing, and it didn't take a ranger to see what she was referring to.

There was a sizable trail snaking down a ridge.

"Are there things that actually live out here?" asked Spider-man.

"That officer did say much could hide in the snow. I can't tell what it was from this distance, but it was large, four-legged," she assessed. "I think? Maybe something came up from the sea?"

"Maybe live is the wrong word," scowled Wyn.

"I agree," said Nih. "Not everything that moves lives. This is a land of death."

"Mm," grunted Wolverine. "Webhead," he called. "Move to the back for me would ya'? Keep your noggin tuned to anything that might sneak up behind to kill us."

"Roger."

Finding a rocky outcrop, the party came to a stop. Spider-man webbed their reindeer to it allowing them to dismount.

"Everyone go now while we're stopped," ordered Wolverine hopping off. "A bit of arctic wisdom, if you gotta take a shit put your face to the wind before dropping your pants."

"Oh Mr. Howlett," said Peter pulling a feed bag off his deer. "Your boundless charm and savoir fair never ceases to amaze me."

"I think the wind's a concern for us ladies regardless," said Boksee.

"If anyone looks over this snow bank they can expect a shattered femur," said Wyn propping her mace over her shoulder.

As the mounts were given a chance to eat and a moment to rest after hours of travel, the party separated to attend to their private business. As Wolverine returned from his, he heard Wyn let out a shriek.

His claws ejected with a start.

"Watch out paladin," called Boksee out of sight. "The wind just changed."

There was some laughter.

With a hard breath, Logan re-sheathed himself. He lumbered over to his deer and pulled out a map.

Popping up over the outcrop, Spider-man slid down the hill and landed on his feet before him.

"You freeze something important?" asked Logan not looking up. "Jerk on it a little, it'll thaw."

"What is with you and dong lately? No, Wolvie…" he started in earnest. "Are you ok?"

Wolverine gave him a curdled scowl.

"Fine. Be like that," the younger man chastised. "You know, the last time you were this high-strung you nearly killed half of us."

"THEN LEAVE!" he roared.

Spider-man's masked face baulked at the sudden hostility. The reindeer startled.

"No one's stopping you!" blared the mutant. "If I scare you then fuckin' leave!"

Wolverine threw his attention back to the map.

Peter had to do a double take. Walking away, he ran his hands over his hooded scalp. He shook his head and leaned against the outcrop, his fingers clamping around the bridge of his masked nose as he let out a long breath.

"You know…" he breathed, then he shook his head. "No… you know what… I, uh, I never figured it out."

"Figured what out?" growled Logan still buried in his map.

"That thing you were doing earlier, the thing with the languages. You win. I can't figure out how you were doing it," said the other man with a flat shrug. "Do you just know a bunch of random phrases or something?"

"I win?" asked Wolverine looking up. "This weren't no game. Kid, I just know more than English."

"I've counted six. You're seriously claiming you, Mr. Bub, can speak a full six different languages, fluently?" continued Peter gaining some ebullience.

"No."

"See, so…"

"I think it's around thirteen."

"Thirteen‽" he exclaimed taken aback.

"Yah? Or fourteen? I've never counted," said Logan lowering his map and thinking.

"Are you serious?"

"Yah?"

"Seriously‽"

"Yes!"

"W-what are they?"

"Well, I got some down a lot better than others, but besides English it's Japanese, Russian, Mandarin, a couple different First Nations, uh, Spanish, oh Vietnamese, Portuguese…"

"HOW?" exclaimed Peter interrupting.

"I've lived a lot of places. You pick things up."

"Not like that! No wonder you get weekly amnesia. That's where all your memory space went!"

"I… that ain't really how brains work is it?" he asked concerned.

"Dude! You're seriously saying you're like this gifted polyglot, this entire time‽ Even though you sound like a werewolf lumberjack? Why don't you ever use any of those other languages?"

"No one else is usin' 'em. If I got somethin' to say I'm gonna make sure everyone can hear."

Spider-man could see the rest of the party was peeking out from their hiding places, looking to see what the situation was after the yelling.

"Uh, Colossus," he continued. "Colossus is Russian. Do you like, ever just creep on his phone calls or something?"

"If you mean do I know what he's sayin', sure. If you wanna speak in private go outside."

"Dude!"

"Ain't like he's ever yacked 'bout anythin' interesting. Nah, the real fun is when Gumbo starts gettin' into it thinkin' no one else in the room can understand him."

"Wait! Wait, wait," said Spider-man throwing up a hand. "Gambit? As in… French?"

"Yah. One of my worst honestly, but I know enough to get by."

"You can speak French?"

"Yah?"

"YOU can speak FRENCH‽"

"You got somethin' to say about it?" demanded Wolverine turning to him. "It's a popular language. There's a whole province above you that speaks it if you hadn't noticed," he snarled, then he stopped.

Even with the mask, Spider-man looked like he was about to burst from holding in his laughter.

The mutant, his guard finally completely dropped, just stared confused as the other man giggled.

Seeing the mood had shifted, the party started walking back out, giving each other a few secret shrugs.

"Please," Spider-man wheezed doubling over. "Oh please say something in French. Anything, please. Say my mom is a whore, I don't care. Oh please."

Wolverine raised a hairy eyebrow, then a grin actually found him. He gave the younger man a look, then in his usual husky, growling voice, yet with perfect pronunciation, he asked:

"Ç'est ce que tu veux…"

There was a long pause.

"Bub?"

Spider-man died.

"How goes the navigation?" asked Wyn walking up to Wolverine, both of them ignoring Spider-man now keeled over on the ground.

"We're on course," husked the mutant. "I had to take us the long way around this basin here," he said pointing it out to her on their chart. "I wasn't convinced it was worth the risk of a steep incline. It put us behind but we should still reach camp a few hours before nightfall."

"Good work man."

"By the warmth of the summer day, by the heat of the sacred flame, may this snow reclaim its rightful name, melt."

Aiming a hand at the outcrop, Nih melted the driven snow from atop it. Using his usual cantrip, he caught the cascading water from the air and guided it into his water skin.

"And you said melting snow wasn't interesting," said Boksee lining up behind him with her own.

"I stand by that assessment," he smiled re-filling everyone's. "My snail ears, are you quite alright?" he asked turning to Spider-man.

He was lying flat on his back, gasping in the snow.

"Yah," he wheezed. "Oh," he gasped holding his stomach as he got up. "Ok, on second thought, I never want to hear Wolverine speak anything but English ever again. I don't think my little arachnid heart can take it."

All three native adventurers made a face.

They looked at him.

"My snail ears," asked Nih. "What's English?"

"Ah!"

As Wolverine returned to plotting out the next leg of their journey, his map suddenly whipped in a new violent wind. Even through his layers, the cold stung with a new and vicious burn. He felt his hair stand on end.

The party had felt it too. They went quiet, Peter twitching as his spider sense hummed.

"Men," said Boksee concerned. "Remember how I said the wind had changed?"

They were engulfed in shadow.

"Spider-man!" demanded Wolverine. The reindeer howled and moaned as the adventurers kept them moving. Cyclonic gales battered them sideways. The scouring snow was blinding. "Web the deer together! Keep us together!"

Tomila jolted as a silken tether splattered against her harness. Wolverine forced her to heel.

"Easy girl," he snarled. "Keep it together."

The blizzard was all consuming, an agonizing deluge of ice and wind. The adventurers were halfway encrusted in snow, the freezing wet burning through their clothes.

"I can't see!" exclaimed Boksee in a panic. It was nothing but white in all directions. They could barely make out the riders directly ahead of them.

"Just stay the course! Stay together!"

"Do you know where we're going‽" shouted Wyn.

"Logan stop!" shouted Peter.

Wolverine pulled the line to a halt.

"What‽" he barked.

Just barely audible, completely out of sight from the back, Spider-man shouted.

"We can't keep going that way!" he called.

"Why‽"

"I don't know! Spider sense!"

Wolverine panted in thought.

"Are we lost‽" called Wyn.

"We're in a white out!" he barked. "Just give me a minute!"

Tomila started snorting and fighting him again, but this time it wasn't panicked or random. Against her white-knuckled reigns, she was consistently trying to walk them rightward. Wolverine suddenly had an idea. Relaxing his hold, the reindeer lowered her head and started trudging them against the storm.

He grinned.

"That a girl," he praised. "That a girl! The deer know where they're going!" he shouted back to his party. "Everyone just follow Tomila!"

Letting the mounts take over, the other cows fell in line behind the dominant. In the endless blizzard, the party clung to the backs of the herd as they migrated the wastes.

They were practically on top of the base camp before they saw it. Between the antlers of his reindeer, Wolverine could make out a dark shape in the endless milky white. Crunching toward it, a stone shack came into view.

"TAKE ONLY WHAT YOU NEED," read its tall double doors. "ANOTHER LIFE MAY DEPEND ON IT."

Hopping off, he grunted to pull them open against the wind. With the rest of the party still riding, the line of reindeer excitedly trotted inside. They knew where home and safety were.

The party breathed in palpable relief as they entered the shelter. With their druid summoning his light orb, Wolverine pulled the doors back closed, finally closing out the intense storm and ushering them into the dark and quiet.

"Thank the divine," said Wyn hopping off her deer, pulling off her mask and goggles and scraping the snow from her clothes.

The shack was a snug singular room, half of it consisting of a stall for the reindeer.

"Are you alright ranger?"

Boksee was shivering in her coat. She pulled up her mask, her cheeks burnt red.

"T-t-that's just u-unfair," she said through chattering teeth. "W-with how stout I'm b-built, I should have b-better resistance to the cold," she laughed. "The p-p-plight of the halfling."

As the rest of the party dismounted and undressed, Spider-man noticed another sign above him.

BE COURTEOUS. MUCK YOUR STALL.

He chuckled.

While they unloaded, the chattering ranger noticed a tap and trough. She went to feed and water the deer as the mounts settled in.

As soon as kernel hit wood, Tomila forced herself to the front to get first dibs on the food. Logan just grinned at the display.

"Thanks girl," he said walking up and giving her a pat. "Tomorrow, you can eat all the snow you want."

"Don't sell yourself short Claws," said Wyn. "I'm not sure the rest of us could have made it through that. Good work."

The party moved over to the people side.

It was a simple stone room with a central vented hearth and a wall of supplies - food, feed, water, clothes, sleeping bags and gear.

"I-it's very kind of Plieya to set up t-these camps," said Boksee throwing her drenched outer layers over a wooden beam.

"I imagine the more deaths the island can prevent the steadier the tourism," smiled Nih.

She gave him a look.

"Enchanted log?" read Wolverine finding a stack of firewood. "Burn one at a time?"

"You're an enchanted log," said Peter coming up behind him.

Ignoring him, Wolverine shrugged and grabbed one. Chucking it in the hearth, Nih shot it with a spark. The log ignited instantly, the singular piece of wood magically forming a roaring fire.

"Oh hey, I've got an idea of what sort of potion they soaked this in," said Peter. "Neat."

"Who cares? Thank the divine!" said Boksee throwing herself before it.

In their dark stone shack, all but their bottom layers of clothing hanging from the ceiling to dry, with the roar of the storm muffled around them, the party sat gathered at their fire.

"And you said it was a waste of space to bring the camping kettle," said Boksee pulling it off the hearth.

Wyn gave her a look.

"Nih can heat liquid with his hands," she snipped.

"Of which would still require him having something to hold it in. Do you want some or not Ms. Paladin?"

Wyn harumphed but held out her cup with the rest of them.

As Boksee poured them all a serving of hot barley tea, Spider-man covertly dropped something into his. He sighed as he took a warming sip.

"So, I guess tomorrow's the big day, huh?" he said.

"If that's what you want to call it."

"Now, if I end up as a baby, I want all of you to promise you won't stop working until I've been restored, and also not let Wolverine try to raise me, at all. I've got enough problems."

The party chuckled.

The misplaced super hero smiled, then he put down his drink.

"All joking aside, maybe we can finally start getting some answers. I guess it's still a long shot, but maybe we can even start to figure out how to get home."

"You can. I got another season left," grunted Wolverine.

Spider-man rolled his eyes.

"You know what I mean. I just want to get working on it already."

Boksee looked at her drink. It took her a moment to build up the resolve.

"You know," she started. "I know we're making this great effort to get you men home, have been this entire time. There are probably some important people you're trying to get back to, but… I guess I just want to let you know, if this doesn't end up working out, no one will be upset if you two ended up staying here awhile. Even if you end up staying here forever… both of you," she said looking up, giving them both a heavy smile.

The mutant looked sorely.

"Boksee," said Peter taken aback. "I don't know what to say."

"Well, at least speaking for myself I suppose," she amended.

"I've grown quite fond of the pair of you as well," agreed Nih. "Of this party," he said to the women. "But the lives elves live with men are always transitory. I will treasure this fleeting summer flower."

"It will be… odd, going back to the way things were," said Wyn. "It's hard to believe it's only been near three months. I feel as though it's been a life time since that day we first met in the adventurer's hall."

"Yah, and you were pretty rude that day," teased Peter.

"Was I? What did I say?"

"You called us old and fat and said we had no business starting adventuring at our decrepit age."

"Oh yes, I do remember that, and you sir are embellishing."

"Nah, you said that, word for word," agreed Logan with the twitch of a grin.

"What I'm saying is…" she started pointedly, then softened. "I'll miss you both as well."

"Oh, guys…" started Peter. "But, I mean, it's not like we still don't have one other crazy magic guy to look into."

"But how far away could that really be?"

"Well hey, if we figure out how we got here, how to get back, maybe we can figure out a way to stay in touch," Spider-man reasoned. "Goodbye doesn't have to be forever, right? Especially with all the crazy stuff we get up to. We could pop in for holidays and three-day weekends," he partially joked. "Maybe you guys could even see what our side of the universe is like."

At that the party seemed to lighten.

"Though we'll probably need to keep it a secret, big shocker for me I know, but I don't think unfettered travel from our two worlds would do you guys any favors. You'd have sentinels, symbiotes, and cat videos in a week," he said shuddering.

"Darlin', you seem like a fun one to watch football with," smiled Logan.

"I'd want to see your world," she said leaning back. "You know, for being from a separate plane of existence you two don't talk about it nearly enough. Especially if it's so great it's worth leaving us for."

"It's not about being great," said Peter. "It's about being home."

Spider-man hung from the ceiling.

"Hrm, hmmm," he mumbled freeing his hands and feeling the air. Dropping to the floor, he lied out flat. "Hmmm, yep. Ok, I think the floor is warmer. Looks like I'm sleeping like a peasant tonight."

"I'll take your word for it," said Boksee rolling out her sleeping bag.

Sliding into his, Peter wiggled himself closer to the hearth.

"Catch you cats on the flip side," he said lying down and closing his eyes.

"I am certain he slips out of common every so often," said Nih confused. Boksee nodded.

It didn't take long for the adventurers to each conk out, an all-nighter followed by a trek through the tundra can have that effect. Just as Wyn was about to succumb to the seduction of sleep, her head heavy against hide and fur, she noticed one member was missing from their circle.

Pushing herself up, she saw Wolverine was over in the reindeer stall.

"What are you doing?" she asked walking up behind him.

"Just checking them over," he gruffed not stopping. "I don't wanna have to shill out another five gold because Rudolph comes home with a scratch."

Wyn looked at the benign cows.

"They look fine to me."

He didn't acknowledge her.

"You should sleep. We all need our rest for tomorrow."

Again, he continued to anally scrutinize the beasts of burden.

"Claws," she said quietly. "We all know what Winter's been doing now… what happened at the ski slope. If you're having trouble again, you can just tell us."

"Talkin' don't change anything," he growled. "It's nothin' but deadly cold for miles on miles in every direction. We're alone in this little shack out in the middle of bum fuckin' nowhere." He turned to her, the brutal lines of his face harsh in the dim fire light, then he gave her an insidious leer. "There ain't nowhere for anyone to run this time."

The paladin blanched.

"Get some sleep tuts."

Some hours later, Spider-man awoke with a chill. It was dark.

Sitting up, he saw their fire was cooling embers.

Reluctantly pulling himself out of his comparably warm sleeping bag, he webbed over a new log and added it to the hearth, clicking it to life with a flint and steel.

As the fire ignited a new, the dark orange flames casting their shadowed glow over the sleeping party, Spider-man noticed it.

Wolverine was gone.

Crouched on his haunches, back to the wall, the mutant was sat outside.

The storm had ended and since been replaced with a black snowy night. It was interrupted by the opening of the door.

"There you are," said Spider-man. "Dude, what are you doing out here? It's freezing."

Wolverine didn't move.

"Dude."

Still in his night clothes, Spider-man webbed over his boots and quickly threw them on. He wandered outside closing the door behind him.

"We've both fought the hulk," said Logan unmoved.

"What?"

"The hulk, big green guy. Ever heard of him? We've both fought him."

"Ok?"

"Not a lot of people can say that. Plenty of people have fought him, if that's what you want to call it, but not a lot of people live to talk about it afterwards. When facin' down the hulk, you don't even understand. The power difference is so incredibly great that you ain't even capable of understanding, what he can do to you. Thinkin' about fighting Colossus, or Juggernaut, yah you can imagine how much that'll hurt, how bad they can fuck you up, but Hulk, you can't even picture it. You can't picture it 'til he lands that first punch and your fuckin' soul is thrown out of your body and suddenly you realize that facin' down the hulk is like trying to stab a fuckin' mountain."

Spider-man crouched down beside him.

"But you know that… because you fought him, and you're still here too."

"Come on Wolvie, talk to me," the younger man implored. "What's going on with you? You know, no one blames you for freaking out when Winter screws around with your head."

"What's it like facing me down?" he asked coldly.

"Oh. Uh, on the normal days when you try to kill me or on your extra special days?" He gave an awkward laugh but was met with a face like stone.

"You won't like the answer."

"I know things are a bit hazy for you," said the mutant. "The last time we were thrown around through space and time together. I can tell because you don't remember things you should. It is for me too, don't worry about it. Guess gettin' your brain fucked by an alien and having your time reset can do that. But do you remember the real reason?"

He trailed off as he looked down at his palm.

Spider-man looked down at his own.

"The real reason why you made us blood brothers?" he asked.

Logan gave a curt nod.

"I'm not sure I understood even then."

"Well figure it out for me would ya?"

There was a long pause.

"There ain't all that many people who've faced me down and are still here to talk about it," Wolverine started again. "What's it like?"

Still crouched in the snow, Peter fidgeted and let out a breath.

"You won't like the answer," he stated. "Because I don't know how to put it in a way for you to understand. On your normal days, fighting you isn't that much different then fighting a lot of people. You're fast, and hard, and sharp, but there are still weaknesses to find. It's just a matter of using them without getting shishkabobbed. But when you're at your worst, when you start to enter that place, it's like you said. It's like facing the hulk. You can't understand until you experience it, and you'll never experience it, because you are experiencing it. … It's like the bloodthirst of every war, of every act of violence in human history suddenly has an avatar. It's savagery, and insanity, and evisceration, and vivisection and damnation all thrown together behind a set of claws."

"Then why are you still here‽" he interrupted. "Why stick around with a guy like that?" he demanded.

"Because you're not a guy like that," argued Spider-man like Wolverine was dense. "Wolvie, if that was who you were I don't think you would be sitting here beating yourself up over scaring some people at a ski slope."

Wolverine startled. He quickly turned away.

"I never said that," he grouched.

"So you don't care then?"

"Shut up. You always know how to irritate me," he snarled.

"It's not a high bar. Now Wolvie, don't get me wrong, who you are is a pain in the butt, my butt specifically, but when have I ever let my personal deeply held grievances affect my decisions?" he smiled. "If you don't want to get to that guy, you should do what you didn't do last time and maintain a healthy sleep schedule. We've got a big day tomorrow of hopefully not becoming baby dust, so come on in before we both freeze our dongs off," he teased giving him a shove.

"If she gets in my head again, someone might die," snarled the mutant point blank.

Spider-man huffed.

"You know you weren't even that bad at the ski slope," he grumbled. "Like less than half what you were when I dragged you out into the woods. You weren't even attacking anyone, just running around making a scene."

Wolverine was unmoved.

Spider-man grumped in thought, then he looked down to his palm.

"I just put a new log on the fire," he said.

"What?"

"On reflection, I don't know if I trust enchanted logs. Proper fire safety suggests someone should be awake to watch it. I can watch this one, and when it burns out you can be in charge of the next one. In the meantime, you can get some sleep. If anything happens, with the fire, I'll be awake."

With another look to his palm, Spider-man stood and extended it to Wolverine.

"If this means anything, it means you can trust me to handle it, right?" he asked offering him his hand. "Trust what I'm telling you? Honorary bros or not, this is the hand of a dragon puncher. I think it can deal with an enchanted log," he joked. "At least for one night." Then he spoke in earnest. "Just let me take care of this one for you, alright Howlett?"

The two men closed the door behind them.

Logan opened his eyes. It was brighter in the stone shed than it had been last night, the vent for the hearth letting in the slightest rays of daylight.

Everyone was alive and everything was in order. Everyone was sleeping soundly, except one.

Spider-man, still sat at their fire, noticed him waking up. A little worse for wear, he gave him a tired smile and waved.

"You should've woke me up! I can't believe you let me sleep through my shift!"

The party was enjoying the fire one last time while stuffing down a breakfast of rations.

"What shift?" asked Boksee. "We were taking shifts?"

"Uh, Wolvie and I decided we didn't trust enchanted logs and decided we needed to watch them," explained Peter.

"Yah except he didn't wake me up. Here you were sayin' how much I needed sleep and you didn't get any."

"I got a few hours, besides, I had a contingency plan."

The youngest man pulled out a small vial of brown liquid.

"What is that?" asked Boksee.

Very carefully holding it over his cup, he coaxed a single drop from its stopper and into his tea.

He took a long drink.

"Ahhhh," he sighed. "This is a potion of my own design, a draught of mild rejuvenation as GG called it, aka, distilled coffee essence."

"Pardon?" asked Wyn.

"I couldn't carry the beans around with me. Haven't you wondered why I've been so perky and cheerful?"

"I didn't notice a difference at all," said Boksee.

Peter took another lengthy swallow of the now off-flavored barley juice.

"My body is nourished; I no longer feel pain. Yep," he breathed. "Just like back home."

"Peter, I think you have problems."

"Yah but this isn't one of them." He held up his vial. "Each drop has the magically caffeinated equivalent of a 10 oz mug of dark roast. What I'm saying is do not drink this thing," he said holding the tiny bottle between his fingers. "It will kill you, so, so incredibly dead, very painfully. This is like exceptional poison. I put a poison label on it."

"And that's a mild draught?"

"You just don't understand my needs."

"Have you been drinking that thing all night‽"

Logan just shook his head.

"Well, make sure you get a good breakfast with that then, moron. Get some lasting energy."

"Ok mom."

"I thought I was mom," said Nih looking up.

After a few more minutes, the adventurers found they had finished. A silence fell over them.

Wyn looked around at the quiet faces.

"It's time to move out then."

Reloading and remounting, the Far Marvels threw open the shack doors. With sadistic bite, the intense cold and heinous wind joyously welcomed them back. It had bided its time, waited for them, knowing the tiny collection of fresh life had no choice but to eventually return to it.

With their lone shelter growing smaller and smaller in the distance, the party continued their trek over the endless tundra.

It was midday when Wolverine brought them to a stop.

Cresting a snowy dune, mounts moaning and wind whipping, the party stared out into a vast town.

Abandoned, bygone, and frozen in time, Old Plieya stood where it had fallen, entombed in its valley under hundreds of years of endless winter.

At its center, between forsaken cobblestone and caved thatch, an icy summit rose over the town's ruined streets.

Atop it, like the last resentful edifice to the land it once ruled, its walls uncompromised by storm and weathered spires unfelled by time, there, in the gathered bones of its dominion, stood a castle.

The End.