They say the crew of The Jörmung were once brave explorers who longed for adventure amongst the vast, uncharted sea. They had no fear of the unknown, always venturing further and further away with each voyage. Then, one day, they ventured too far and sailed deep into the Wayward Sea, a dwelling place of great evil. No telling what horrible nightmares slumber there, whether they are the kind that lay deep within the water or the kind that seep deep into the mind. Whatever the case, the crew were driven mad and returned as nothing more than empty vessels, void of any emotion or thought. From then on, they sailed shore to shore not as adventurers, but as annihilators of every town and village that lay in their path. Their eyes turned deep and blackened, their faces were fully engulfed by the mulchy hair of their beards and the rusted metal of their helmets that they never removed. For as long as I have been held captive aboard this ship, I have not once seen them sleep, eat, or even speak more than two or three sensible words - words like Captain and Wayward. There was one word, however, they spoke most of all. It was more than a word, it was a haunting growl that crept through the claws of their teeth. I had never heard of this word before, but they spat it so often to themselves, I understood it to be a name they cursed themselves with. The word was Ullag. The longer I stay here, the more I feel myself become like one of them. My memory is fading, my soul is withering. They must have taken me from my home, but why leave me alive? They are not the type to leave survivors or take prisoners. Which begs a more pressing question. What happened to my homeland? Will I have a people to go back to?
THE JÖRMUNG
Hope does not exist aboard this place. I cannot recall the last time I saw the sun or a clear blue sky. I cannot recall the last time I heard the sound of songbirds in the wind. I cannot recall the last time I breathed in the clean, fresh air. Great starlight! I cannot even recall time itself. Weeks, months, years, the sky is too dark to tell when one day ends and another begins. It is as if the storm follows us, like a beast stalks its prey. This ship, this prison, home to all things forgotten and abandoned, this floating tomb. They call it, The Jörmung. If Death had his own ship, it would shriek at the sight of The Jörmung. As it tore through wave after wave, I could hear the waters churn and bellow as though the sea herself feared the wretched ship. Its sails are dark and ruptured. The wind they carry reek of death that I assume come from the victims whose souls still linger here. The wood seems ancient, rotting with all manner of nasty barnacles and slime. I am certain this vessel must have plunged to the depths centuries ago, how it floats amongst the living is beyond my knowledge. Or perhaps I do not want to know. I am but a slave here. Among the many memories I still cannot recall, the ones that truly matter are that of my own name, my people, my home. The Jörmung is not my home. I do not belong here. For that, I am sure of. I cannot remember how I came here, but I know I cannot stay...lest I lose my soul and fall victim to the curse of the Ullag.
Doorways & Stone Giants
Doorways are a mysterious sort of travel. You could walk through the same door every day, and yet you may never know what may lie on the other side. The room may stay the same, of course. The same floor, same ceiling, perhaps the same furniture (unless a rat troll made some readjustments in the night), but what of the new day that awaits on the other side? What of the people out there? What of the new adventures that lay in store behind that old door, and if that’s not excitement enough, imagine the thousands upon thousands of new doors beyond they? The doors we’ve never walked through before. What tale awaits behind the lock and key, the creaking wood, and the rusty hinges? Those are the best doors, in my opinion.
I’ve heard tell of such doorways that may open beyond the reaches of space, time, and imagination. Doorways that open to worlds above, worlds below, and worlds that lay just over the starward wall. It’s believed these were built long before the giants learned to walk, and before the birds learned to fly. The children of Earth and Water began to awaken creating together a new and vibrant realm with fresh trees, long flowing lakes, and oceans of grass as far as the eye may gaze. Above, the child of Sky and Heaven looked with awe. The Author was so amazed with what His children had made, that He decided to take form and walk amongst their creation. To allow Him safe and easy passage, the children of Earth and Water drew great doorways hidden within their new realm. The Author would come to and fro, taking long walks and exploring all there was to offer in this world. Eventually, He felt this world should not grow on alone and emptied, and He began to create the first creatures to live and thrive, scattering them all across the open land as well as in the depths of the sea.
Of course, this peace was not meant to last. The creatures, in their natural curiosity, would begin to discover the doorways to the other side, roaming unknowingly into realms not meant for them. This breach, although harmless at first, would soon bring the attention of malevolent forces from dark and terrifying realms who wanted nothing more than to destroy all that the Author’s children had created. The woods were burned to ash, the waters were polluted, the skies were blackened, and all the children had made was slowly becoming undone. It was then that the Author took force, bringing alongside Him the great might of the Stargazers to thwart out the evil that seeped into the land and forced them out through the doorways from whence they came. When all evil seemed gone, the Stargazers sealed the doorways with their power and created great stone giants to guard them for eternity.
an imaginative sketch from the pages of Voyager of what the stone giants may possibly look like
For centuries the doorways have stood unopened, hidden deep into the unknown. No one knows for certain just how many there are or where they may be kept, and unless you value your very life I suggest you don’t go looking. The stone giants are sworn to one single purpose - to keep anything and anyone from passing through the door by any means necessary. They sit by the door waiting and ready. I would give anything to see what worlds lie beyond those doors, and venture into the great unknown. The stories I could bring back with me. Alas, some things in this world, or the next, may need to remain unknown. Knowledge may at times be a blessing or a curse, and some doors are simply never meant to be opened.
An Introduction of Sorts
The following pages were recovered from an old “guidebook” of sorts. The term, guidebook, is used loosely, for no one knows where this is a guide to. The people, locations, and creatures described here are unlike anything known to our world. Many of the researchers and scientists that studied this text have discredited it as the ramblings of some lunatic mind. However, many who dwell in the realm of dreams and imagination believe it to be the personal journal of a traveler from far away...perhaps very far away. They imagine the vagabond as someone in search of adventure, experience, and the answers many of us search for within ourselves. Beyond what is presented here, hardly anything is known about the curious adventurer. No reference is given about their homeland, their people, or even their name. The only possible clue is that of a self-given title...Voyager. Because of the book’s discredit by the more “intelligent” members of society, another term used loosely, its contents have been made public for your eyes. If your mind finds comfort within the realms of rationality, practicality, or any formal laws of a mundane reality - then this world may not be for you. But if you’re a dreamer, believer, adventurer, herald for the courageous and seeker for the curious - then I encourage you to read on. You never know what shore your voyage may lead to.
