Sep 7, 2026 · 34 min · 11 segments
Oh we're so close to the end of book 3 of *Tales of Aurduin!* In this week's installment with chapter 33, "Entangled," Orobai, at long last, comes face-to-face with the enigmatic White Eagle in the…
Martin BallHost
Storn had given up days ago now, beaten down by the relentless and bitter winds that formed ice upon his delicate feathers and frozen to his very core.
Yet Orbi could not give up the quest, and he pushed ever onwards, ever northwards, calling out to the north wind spirits that they might hear his voice and make his passage easier.
The snow stung as it whipped across Orubai's exposed face and ice formed upon his nose.
Despite the incessant whiteness of the ubiquitous snow, it seemed almost perpetually dark.
The further north he drew, the shorter the days became, with darkness creeping in from all directions and always the snow blew down, pushing him back, keeping him from his goal.
In only a few days they had passed the northern edge of the vast and seemingly endless forest of the great redwood trees and were out over the unbroken and open tundra.
In the distance, they had seen a scene precisely as Dorot had described, countless numbers of Uluchnan riding upon their impressive mounts of mastodons, all headed due south.
He could almost feel the weight of the future, of his vision, pressing in upon him.
The winds from the north cut across the tundra, giving the sparse plants that grew there a bent appearance, as though here the world all flowed to the south.
It beat down heavenly upon the feathered companions, though it failed to stop their northward progress.
Stowarn, the stronger of the two, even flew before Orabai to help break the wind and give the old being a small measure of assistance.
Even the tundra eventually gave way to the vast snow and ice fields of the distant north.
It was much further than Storn had ever passed in this direction, and the cold and desolation began to wear upon him.
Storn had given up days ago now, beaten down by the relentless and bitter winds that formed ice upon his delicate feathers and frozen to his very core.
Yet Orbi could not give up the quest, and he pushed ever onwards, ever northwards, calling out to the north wind spirits that they might hear his voice and make his passage easier.
The snow stung as it whipped across Orubai's exposed face and ice formed upon his nose.
Despite the incessant whiteness of the ubiquitous snow, it seemed almost perpetually dark.
The further north he drew, the shorter the days became, with darkness creeping in from all directions and always the snow blew down, pushing him back, keeping him from his goal.
In only a few days they had passed the northern edge of the vast and seemingly endless forest of the great redwood trees and were out over the unbroken and open tundra.
In the distance, they had seen a scene precisely as Dorot had described, countless numbers of Uluchnan riding upon their impressive mounts of mastodons, all headed due south.
He could almost feel the weight of the future, of his vision, pressing in upon him.
The winds from the north cut across the tundra, giving the sparse plants that grew there a bent appearance, as though here the world all flowed to the south.
It beat down heavenly upon the feathered companions, though it failed to stop their northward progress.
Stowarn, the stronger of the two, even flew before Orabai to help break the wind and give the old being a small measure of assistance.
Even the tundra eventually gave way to the vast snow and ice fields of the distant north.
It was much further than Storn had ever passed in this direction, and the cold and desolation began to wear upon him.
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