Aurora - Latin for dawn, Borealis from Boreas, the Greek god of the northern wind.
Under A Cold And Burning Sky: Night. The Hyperborean waste, where once Lomar held sway. High above, yet not so high, the aurora flickers, and grows bright. The spectral energies wash over the Cold Waste. The wind whispers with <Their> voices. The earth mutters with <Their> consciousness. <They> tread Earth's fields, but no one can behold <Them> as <They> tread.
The Uliqqa shaman assigned contact duty pulls his sealskin closer. He half-sleeps. The aurora flares blindingly red and shades quickly into hues no sane mind should ever grasp. Of course, the Uliqqa shaman has not been sane in some years. He stiffens. The tumorous mass where his right eye should have been pulses slightly, breaks, and begins to suppurate a thick pinkish fluid with black streaks. The fluid freezes quickly in the clear arctic air, scarring an oddly repulsive pattern on the already lined cheek. The Uliqqa shaman does not notice.
The tongue, swollen, touches lips, cracked and scarred from decades of exposure. Air rushes through from a throat long abused as the rites are howled though in their seasons. A word forms, whispered into the long arctic night.
The Boreal Waste, Where Once Lomar Held Sway: <They | The Others | Those From Outside | The Glacier | The Aurora> are of a kind greater in scope than Humankind. They are <chaos without order>. They are older than mankind, older than Earth.
They are vast beyond understanding, and encompass worlds in <Their> dreaming. We of earth can know them only a little, and <Their> presence is a vast weight, in one breath <comforting | damning>.
From time to time, the stars are right, and They can stride or seep from world to world through the Void, and attempt to join yet another world in <Their> dreams.
The last such attempt on Earth was some twenty-six thousand years ago. The succeeded, for a time; we call this "the Ice Age".
Dread Olathöe, Within The Ice: The land shook and rippled, mountains leaping as the shockwave of the blast tore through the earth. Hundreds of miles away, buildings shivered to rubble and in the crucible of Olathöe nothing stood. The kinetic energy of the asteroid transferred to the earth in a rumbling shock, and to the air in a whirlwind of fire that reduced a hundred square miles of tundra and ice to a burning, steaming wasteland.
Mammoth winds howled out from the blast, raging across the plains and hills, killing everything that might live within their reach. A vast plume of ash and smoke soared up, flooding into the upper atmosphere and pluming out like a grotesque, colossal mushroom. The dust cloud lit with lightning, roaring up from the blast, and the aurora flared awake, shining down across the whole of the northern hemisphere like a beacon of doom.
The earth shook, and the kingdoms of man trembled.
Shawnee Empire : Pasternak set the cup down, peering off into the black northern sky. No aurora, he realized with relief. Maybe <they> are truly gone.
His human heart wished fervently for it to be so, but a sick queasiness in his stomach bade otherwise. The combined expedition launched the next day, marking a course north and west for the distant Ice.