Working title
THE NORTHERN SAGA
Trilogy Project THE WENDOL WINTER - THE LAW OF TEETH - EATERS OF HISTORY - prequel trilogy.
THE WENDOL WINTER
(tagline: “Some myths are masks.”)
Logline
In the far north of Kvenland, a young Kven scout and a displaced Ugric seer race to stop the Wendol Tribe—cannibal raiders who weaponize myth—while a Khazar envoy fleeing court intrigue brings news of a kingdom changing faith and laws, forcing the north to decide what is “civilized”… and what is merely hungry.
Tone + style
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Primal historical horror, grounded in logistics: boats, iron, starvation, sickness, kinship law.
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Myth as psychological warfare (drums in fog, masks, bear-skins, scent, smoke).
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Dialogue cadence inspired by 13th Warrior: simple, sharp, often spoken around firelight.
Core cast
AILI (Kven, early 20s) – Scout, daughter of a respected boat-builder. Brave, practical, doesn’t romanticize war.
VÄINÖ (older Kven leader) – Keeps peace between clans; terrified of what fear does to people.
NYARMA (Ugric, 30s) – “Seer” who reads tracks like scripture; trauma survivor of Wendol attack.
KAGAN’S MAN / ISAAC OF ITIL (Khazar, 40s) –
Envoy/merchant-scholar; speaks several tongues; hunted by rivals; carries letters and a new name.
HAG-MOTHER (WENDOL) (50s+) – Matriarch; brilliant tactician; believes cannibalism is sacred necessity.
TORO (Wendol champion) – Masked, animalistic presence; possibly just a man… possibly not.
Plot outline (3 acts)
Act I — “The Teeth of the Myth”
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Cold open: A Kven hunting party vanishes. Only a rib-bone charm remains, carved with an unfamiliar mark.
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AILI finds tracks that don’t make sense—too light for the size, as if people walked on stilts or snowshoes shaped wrong.
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NYARMA arrives with warnings from the Ugric interior: “They wear our dead as stories.”
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A wounded stranger is found on the coast: ISAAC OF ITIL, Khazar envoy. He offers iron and information; he wants safe passage west.
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The Wendol raid a riverside settlement—not for loot, but for people.
Act II — “The Tribe Behind the Mask”
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The Kvens and Ugric clans argue: unite or scatter.
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Isaac explains southern politics: alliances shifting; some leaders adopting new law/faith; merchants recalculating routes.
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NYARMA tracks the Wendol to a bone-midden and a hidden winter camp. She identifies ritual order: they aren’t “mad,” they’re organized.
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AILI learns the Wendol myth is being amplified by human choices: traitors, fear, and opportunism.
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Midpoint setpiece: night attack in fog—Wendol use drums and smoke; Kven defenses collapse.
Act III — “The Hunger and the Law”
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AILI proposes an unthinkable plan: enter the myth and break it.
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They stage a counter-ritual: use the Wendol’s own signals against them, turn their masks into targets, destroy food stores, force daylight confrontation.
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Isaac, cornered by pursuers, must choose: run south with his letters or help the north with steel and strategy.
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Final confrontation at a frozen fjord: the Wendol matriarch speaks calmly about famine, exile, and why “civilization” is a story told by those with full bellies.
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Resolution: Wendol threat reduced—but not erased. The myth survives, because fear survives.
I. FULL TRILOGY BEAT SHEETS
(30–40 beats per film; structured but flexible)
FILM I — THE WENDOL WINTER
Genre: Survival horror / ethnographic thriller
Core question: Are monsters born—or made?
ACT I — THE MYTH AWAKENS (Beats 1–12)
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Disappearance of Kven hunters; ritualized remains discovered
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Introduction of AILI as pragmatic scout
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Wendol myth explained through fear, not exposition
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NYARMA arrives with Ugric warnings
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ISAAC rescued—outsider perspective introduced
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Village council divided: myth vs reason
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First non-lethal Wendol “visit” (psychological warfare)
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Discovery of Wendol signals, drums, masks
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Wendol raid—controlled, selective, terrifying
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Evidence they are human, organized
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Aili challenges the myth openly
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Wendol respond by escalating pressure
ACT II — THE MASK REMOVED (Beats 13–26)
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Tracking the Wendol into winter territory
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Discovery of ritualized cannibalism with rules
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Isaac introduces southern political logic (law, faith, conversion)
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Wendol ambush—first direct clash
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Loss of villagers; morale collapse
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Aili realizes myth is a weapon
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Wendol Matriarch revealed (human, intelligent)
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Wendol philosophy articulated: hunger + exile
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Isaac abducted—knowledge targeted
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Kven counter-strategy: daylight, noise, deception
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Wendol winter camp infiltrated
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Drums sabotaged; myth destabilized
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Fire destroys Wendol stores
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Wendol retreat—but not defeated
ACT III — CHOICE, NOT VICTORY (Beats 27–36)
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Winter worsens; both sides suffer
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Wendol shift to daylight tactics
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Ice-trap ambush breaks Wendol confidence
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Negotiation between Aili and Matriarch
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Wendol offered exile, not extermination
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Wendol choose dispersal
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Isaac returns with trade routes
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Myth begins to fade
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Children grow without terror
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Final beat: fear acknowledged as human choice
FILM II — THE LAW OF TEETH
Genre: Political thriller / historical war drama
Core question: Can civilization be more violent than monsters?
ACT I — THE OPEN NORTH (Beats 1–12)
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Kvenland prospers post-Wendol
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Trade routes formalized
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Isaac returns as Khazar intermediary
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Southern envoys arrive with law + faith
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Wendol myth resurrected as justification
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Foreign guards “protect” trade
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Census and quotas imposed
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Resistance framed as savagery
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Aili senses loss of autonomy
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Wendol survivors criminalized
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First “legal” punishment
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Aili forced into diplomacy
ACT II — ORDER EATS FIRST (Beats 13–26)
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Food seizures trigger famine
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Conversion used to mark loyalty
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Isaac pressured to enforce law
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Aili’s authority undermined
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False Wendol raid staged
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Massacre blamed on “northmen savages”
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Aili uncovers proof
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Truth presented publicly
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Southern alliance fractures
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Violence escalates under legal cover
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Villages burned “for stability”
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Aili chooses evacuation over war
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Routes erased, maps destroyed
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North emptied intentionally
ACT III — EMPTY VICTORY (Beats 27–36)
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Southern banners fly over silence
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Empire claims success
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Isaac records the loss
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Wendol descendants disappear again
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Aili becomes legend, not leader
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Trade continues—soulless
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Children grow displaced
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“Civilization” stands uncontested
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But nothing remains to rule
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Final line: “They feared monsters. They became systems.”
FILM III — EATERS OF HISTORY
Genre: Epic myth-history crossover
Core question: Who controls memory?
ACT I — THE STORY TRAVELS (Beats 1–12)
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Generations later—north repopulated
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Tales of Wendol spread south
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Scholar-traveler collects stories
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Each version more monstrous
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Cannibalism exaggerated
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Drums become supernatural
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Wendol lose humanity in narrative
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Scholar intrigued, skeptical
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Meets Kven descendants
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Meets Wendol descendants
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Contradictory truths emerge
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No written record survives intact
ACT II — MYTH HARDENS (Beats 13–26)
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Oral traditions conflict
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Scholar pressured to simplify
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Empire wants clean narrative
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Fear sells better than nuance
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Scholar edits details
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Wendol become “not men”
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Political utility of monster recognized
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Story spreads faster than truth
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Scholar conflicted
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He writes anyway
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Oral nuance lost
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Legend crystallizes
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Human motives erased
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Fear preserved perfectly
ACT III — BIRTH OF THE LEGEND (Beats 27–36)
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Manuscript copied, translated
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Myth enters Europe
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Wendol fully mythicized
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Cannibal enemy codified
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History irreversibly altered
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Scholar ages, regrets
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Final telling around fire
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First Viking expedition hinted
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Words spoken: “They call them Wendol…”
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Cut to mist, longships — bridge to The 13th Warrior
II. CHARACTER ARCS (TRILOGY-WIDE)
AILI — The Humanist
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Film I: Breaks myth with courage
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Film II: Learns truth doesn’t stop power
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Film III: Exists only as fragmented legend
Arc: From protector → dissenter → erased truth
NYARMA — The Memory Keeper
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Film I: Trauma survivor, tracker
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Film II: Cultural witness, warning voice
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Film III: Her knowledge survives only in whispers
Arc: From wound → wisdom → loss of oral authority
ISAAC (KHazar) — The Translator
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Film I: Outsider survivor
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Film II: Complicit intermediary
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Film III: His records seed the legend
Arc: From bridge → collaborator → accidental myth-maker
WENDOL MATRIARCH — The Tragic Strategist
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Film I: Villain with logic
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Film II: Absence weaponized against her people
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Film III: Dehumanized by narrative
Arc: From leader → exile → monster-in-name-only
III. ANTHROPOLOGICAL APPENDIX
(For producers / writers / consultants)
1. The Wendol as Ethnographic Construct
2. Finno-Ugric & Kven Fear Ecology
3. Khazars & Conversion (Handled Safely)
4. Cannibalism in Anthropology (Key Rule)
Cannibalism ≠ savagery
Cannibalism = symbolic boundary
In this trilogy:
5. Myth Transmission Model (Film III backbone)
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Trauma → Story
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Story → Warning
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Warning → Simplification
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Simplification → Monster
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Monster → Policy
This is how The 13th Warrior becomes inevitable.
PART I — HOW NEANDERTHAL THEORY CONNECTS TO THE WENDOL MYTH
1. The Core Anthropological Idea
The Wendol myth can be understood as a cultural memory of human contact with a different human population, not literal monsters.
Neanderthals:
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Coexisted with Homo sapiens in northern Eurasia
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Were physically distinct (robust builds, heavy brows, different facial proportions)
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Lived in small, isolated groups
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Practiced ritual cannibalism in extreme survival contexts (archaeologically attested at sites like El Sidrón)
As Neanderthals disappeared:
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They did not vanish instantly
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They were absorbed, outcompeted, or remembered
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Myth replaced memory
The Wendol are not Neanderthals themselves, but the story left behind when cultural contact outlives understanding.
2. Why the Wendol Are “Human but Not”
Across northern Europe and Finno-Ugric oral traditions, Wendol-like figures share traits:
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Live at forest margins
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Use masks, hides, or animal symbolism
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Eat the dead or enemies
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Move cyclically, seasonally
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Inspire terror but also familiarity
This suggests:
Not demons — but people remembered incorrectly.
Over generations:
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Physical differences become “monstrous”
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Survival cannibalism becomes “evil hunger”
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Isolation becomes “inhumanity”
Myth simplifies what history cannot explain.
3. The Film’s Thesis (Very Important)
This trilogy does not claim:
“The Wendol were Neanderthals.”
It claims:
The Wendol myth is how humans remember other humans when power, fear, and time erase nuance.
By Film III, the audience understands:
PART II — OPENING SCREENPLAY SCENE
(Beginning of Film I or Film III)
This scene frames the entire trilogy in under five minutes.
WHY THIS OPENING WORKS
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It grounds the myth in humanity, not fantasy
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It avoids claiming scientific certainty
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It mirrors how oral history mutates
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It gives actors playable ambiguity
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It frames the trilogy as a study of memory, not creatures
WHY THIS TRILOGY IS UNIQUE
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No supernatural retcon
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No “evil tribe” cliché
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Wendol evolve from people → fear → symbol
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Makes The 13th Warrior feel like the last echo, not the origin
FADE IN:
1. EXT. NORTH COAST — DUSK
A slate sky. Ice on black water. Pines like spears.
A KVEN HUNTING PARTY (6 men) trudges across crusted snow. They carry seal meat, bows, spears.
The wind changes.
A low THUMP… THUMP… THUMP… distant. Almost like a heart.
The hunters stop.
HUNTER #1
(whispers)
No.
HUNTER #2
It’s only echoes.
A third THUMP. Then silence.
A raven lands on a branch—stares like it knows something.
One hunter notices strange shapes half-buried in snow: carved sticks, bone charms, little bundles tied with hair.
HUNTER #3
Who leaves gifts out here?
A shadow moves between trees. Too quick.
The hunters raise weapons.
From the treeline: a figure in a bone mask—human-sized, but wrong. Another. Then another.
They do not charge. They just watch.
The hunters back up.
A sudden SHRIEK—somewhere behind them.
They turn.
WHAM. A hunter drops. Something hit him from above.
Panic.
The THUMPING returns—closer now—like feet on hollow wood.
The masked figures surge.
We never see clear faces. Only teeth painted on masks.
A hunter screams.
Cut to—
2. EXT. NORTH COAST — NIGHT
A single torch in the snow, burning down.
Wind blows ash into the dark.
A bone charm spins slowly on a string, hanging from a branch: a rib bone carved with a spiral mark.
FADE OUT.
TITLE CARD: THE WENDOL WINTER
3. EXT. KVENLAND — FOREST RIDGE — MORNING
AILI (early 20s) moves fast, quiet. Fur-lined cloak, practical boots. A bow across her back.
She kneels by tracks—frowns.
The footprints are shallow, oddly spaced. Some show a line cut through the snow, like something dragged.
AILI touches the snow. Smells it.
Resin. Smoke.
She stands, scans the trees.
A faint THUMP… THUMP… far away.
AILI doesn’t run. She listens.
4. EXT. KVEN VILLAGE — DAY
Smoke from longhouses. Dogs bark. Children chase each other with sticks.
AILI enters. People look up—reading her face.
VÄINÖ, older leader, meets her.
VÄINÖ
You found them?
AILI shakes her head.
AILI
I found where they stopped being men.
She holds out the rib-bone charm with the spiral mark.
VÄINÖ goes pale.
VÄINÖ
Don’t bring that inside.
AILI
It was hung like a warning.
VÄINÖ
Or a prayer.
A murmur rises. Someone spits into the snow.
ELDER WOMAN
The Wendol are awake.
AILI turns to the crowd.
AILI
If we call them monsters, we stop looking for their hands.
Silence. That lands badly.
5. EXT. RIVERBANK — LATE AFTERNOON
AILI walks with her friend, KASPER (20s), a fisherman.
KASPER
You talk like the southmen.
AILI
I talk like a person who wants to live.
A shout from downstream.
They run.
6. EXT. RIVERBANK — CONTINUOUS
Men pull a HALF-FROZEN BODY from an eddy.
Not Kven. Darker cloth, southern cut. Beard. A leather satchel strapped to his chest.
He gasps—alive.
AILI kneels, checks his mouth and eyes.
He speaks in a hoarse, unfamiliar accent.
STRANGER
Water… not… here…
He clutches the satchel as if it’s his ribs.
AILI tries a trade-tongue phrase.
AILI
Name.
He swallows.
STRANGER
Isaac.
A beat. Some of the villagers exchange looks: a southern name.
7. INT. LONGHOUSE — NIGHT
Firelight. Isaac shivers under furs. His satchel is beside him.
VÄINÖ watches him like a wolf watches a trap.
NYARMA sits in the shadows—Ugric, eyes bright, face marked by old cold scars.
AILI pours hot broth into a wooden bowl and offers it to Isaac.
He takes it carefully.
ISAAC
You are… Kven.
AILI
We are hungry in winter like everyone.
NYARMA leans forward.
NYARMA
Not like everyone.
Isaac notices her.
ISAAC
And you are…?
NYARMA
Someone who knows their drums.
The room tightens at the word.
Isaac lifts the bowl—hands shaking.
ISAAC
I heard stories on the river roads.
People who wear beasts.
People who eat their dead.
NYARMA’s laugh is humorless.
NYARMA
They don’t eat their dead.
They eat yours.
So you carry them in your belly.
Isaac looks nauseous.
AILI watches him closely—then his satchel.
AILI
Why are you here, Isaac?
Isaac hesitates. Then, slowly, opens the satchel just enough to show: sealed letters, wax stamps, a small bronze weight, and a thin book wrapped in oilcloth.
ISAAC
Because my home is changing.
And men die when kingdoms change names.
VÄINÖ
Changing to what?
Isaac’s eyes flicker—calculating whether to speak.
ISAAC
To law.
To a new promise.
Some call it faith.
Some call it politics.
NYARMA’s gaze is sharp.
NYARMA
Promises don’t stop teeth.
THUMP… THUMP… faint through the walls.
Everyone freezes.
A dog outside starts barking—then yelps, cut short.
AILI rises.
AILI
No one goes alone.
She grabs her bow.
8. EXT. KVEN VILLAGE — NIGHT
Snow falling. Dark shapes between buildings.
A torch flares. Men rush out with spears.
AILI scans—sees nothing.
Then she notices something hanging on the palisade: another bone charm. Fresh.
AILI approaches slowly.
NYARMA steps beside her, whispering.
NYARMA
They are close enough to touch you.
And they choose not to.
AILI stares at the charm.
AILI
They want us to run.
A THUMP, close now—like a drum struck with a fist.
From the treeline: a single masked figure stands—still as a statue.
Then another appears beside it.
Then five.
Then ten.
Not attacking. Watching.
The villagers’ breath turns to smoke.
A child begins to cry.
The Wendol figures tilt their heads—synchronized, unnatural.
And then they vanish—melting back into the trees.
The silence after is worse than the drums.
AILI lowers her bow too slowly.
NYARMA
They are counting.
FADE OUT.
FADE IN:
9. EXT. KVEN VILLAGE — NIGHT
Snow falls harder now. The palisade creaks. The torch flames whip sideways.
Men cluster with spears. Women pull children back toward the longhouse.
AILI stares at the treeline where the masked figures vanished.
NYARMA stands beside her, still as a post.
VÄINÖ pushes through the crowd.
VÄINÖ
Everyone inside. Now.
No one moves fast enough. Fear is thick.
AILI steps toward the palisade. She reaches for the fresh bone charm.
NYARMA catches her wrist.
NYARMA
Don’t touch it.
AILI
It’s just bone.
NYARMA
It’s a message. Messages bite.
A beat. AILI withdraws her hand.
KASPER, breathing hard, points at the snow outside the gate.
KASPER
Tracks.
Torchlight swings.
On the ground: shallow prints, spaced wrong, circling. Not approaching. Measuring.
Like a wolf pacing a fence.
VÄINÖ
They’re testing you.
AILI
Or testing the gate.
VÄINÖ looks at the palisade as if it could betray him.
VÄINÖ
Inside. Bar the door.
He turns to the men.
VÄINÖ (CONT'D)
Two on the wall. Two more every hour.
No fire outside. No shouting.
We do not entertain ghosts.
The villagers begin to move.
AILI’s gaze stays on the dark. She listens.
Nothing.
Then—very faint—THUMP… THUMP… far away again.
NYARMA closes her eyes, counting.
NYARMA
They moved.
AILI
How do you know?
NYARMA
The drum changes when they turn their faces.
AILI doesn’t argue. She just watches.
CUT TO:
10. INT. LONGHOUSE — NIGHT
The longhouse is packed. Bodies. Breath. Smoke.
A single fire in the center. Light flickers over worried faces.
ISAAC sits near the edge, wrapped in furs, watching everything with a merchant’s caution.
Children whisper. Someone prays under their breath.
VÄINÖ stands before them like a man holding back a flood with his hands.
VÄINÖ
Tonight, we are one house.
Tomorrow, we are one village.
If anyone leaves without word, the snow will
swallow them and we will not chase.
A murmur. A few nods.
AILI stands off to the side with NYARMA.
KASPER approaches AILI, voice low.
KASPER
They saw you. That’s why they came.
AILI
They saw us all.
KASPER
No. You. You went into their woods.
AILI looks away.
Across the room, ISAAC watches AILI. Then he watches NYARMA.
NYARMA notices.
NYARMA
The southern man stares like a knife.
AILI
He’s cold and scared. Like everyone.
NYARMA
Some men hide fear in words.
AILI turns toward VÄINÖ.
AILI
We can’t wait here.
VÄINÖ meets her gaze.
VÄINÖ
We can’t run into dark either.
AILI steps closer to him, lowering her voice.
AILI
They didn’t attack. That means they’re not
desperate. They’re choosing.
VÄINÖ
Choosing what?
AILI
Where we break.
NYARMA steps in, quiet but firm.
NYARMA
They break you by making you watch.
If they take one, you feel it.
If they take many, you become numb.
Numb people do anything.
VÄINÖ’s jaw tightens.
VÄINÖ
You’ve seen them.
NYARMA
I’ve smelled them.
A pause.
From outside: a DOG BARKS once—then silence.
Everyone stiffens.
A child starts crying again.
ISAAC rises, tentative.
ISAAC
Where I come from, we put watchfires on
every road. We make light a law.
A few villagers stare at him—unfriendly.
VÄINÖ regards ISAAC.
VÄINÖ
Your roads are flat. Ours are trees.
ISAAC nods, swallowing pride.
ISAAC
Trees burn.
AILI looks at him sharply.
AILI
Not in this storm.
ISAAC opens his hands.
ISAAC
Then traps. Lines. Noise-makers.
Anything that makes the night speak before
it bites.
NYARMA’s eyes narrow.
NYARMA
Night speaks plenty. You just don’t
understand the language.
A beat. ISAAC sits back down.
VÄINÖ looks around the crowded room.
VÄINÖ
We’ll set lines at first light.
He points to four men.
VÄINÖ (CONT'D)
You. You. You. You.
When the sky turns grey, you go with AILI.
You listen to her feet.
He looks at NYARMA.
VÄINÖ (CONT'D)
And you.
NYARMA doesn’t react. Only her eyes move.
NYARMA
I go where the tracks go.
VÄINÖ nods once, accepting.
VÄINÖ
Then we go where the tracks go.
CUT TO:
11. INT. LONGHOUSE — LATER NIGHT
Most have drifted into uneasy sleep.
The fire is lower. The room is a forest of slumped bodies.
AILI sits awake, sharpening a small knife with a stone.
NYARMA sits opposite, carving something from wood—small, quick strokes.
ISAAC lies near the wall, eyes open, pretending to sleep.
AILI glances at NYARMA’s carving.
AILI
What is it?
NYARMA turns it in her fingers. A crude spiral.
NYARMA
A door.
AILI snorts softly.
AILI
It looks like a snail.
NYARMA
Snails survive winters by closing themselves.
You call it foolish. It’s wisdom.
AILI looks toward the doorway, where two men stand watch.
AILI
Your people used this mark?
NYARMA hesitates.
NYARMA
Some did.
Before the Wendol stole it.
AILI studies her.
AILI
Stole it how?
NYARMA’s hands stop carving.
NYARMA
They took our stories and wore them.
They learned our warnings and used them
as weapons.
From the wall, ISAAC speaks without sitting up.
ISAAC
That is not so different.
AILI turns, surprised.
AILI
Different from what?
ISAAC shifts, sitting up slowly.
ISAAC
In the south, men take laws and wear them.
They take faith and wear it.
Sometimes to be holy. Sometimes to be safe.
Sometimes to make others afraid.
NYARMA stares at him like he’s a riddle she dislikes.
NYARMA
And you? What do you wear?
ISAAC’s expression hardens.
ISAAC
A name.
AILI watches him.
AILI
That satchel. Those letters.
Who hunts you?
ISAAC’s eyes flick to VÄINÖ sleeping.
ISAAC
Not hunters. Accountants.
A kingdom changing its mind has many
sharp pens.
NYARMA
Pens don’t kill.
ISAAC gives a small, bleak smile.
ISAAC
Pens decide who is fed.
Hunger does the rest.
That lands in the longhouse like a stone.
AILI goes back to her knife.
AILI
Then you understand the Wendol.
ISAAC’s smile fades.
ISAAC
I understand hunger. Not… this.
NYARMA returns to carving.
NYARMA
Hunger is never only hunger.
CUT TO:
12. EXT. KVEN VILLAGE — PRE-DAWN
Grey light. The world is quiet in that way that feels unnatural.
Four MEN and AILI step out, cloaks tight, faces wrapped.
NYARMA follows, light-footed.
VÄINÖ stands at the gate, watching them go like a father watching children walk onto thin ice.
VÄINÖ
Bring back certainty.
AILI glances back.
AILI
I’ll bring back truth.
VÄINÖ
Truth gets people killed.
AILI
Lies already have.
She goes.
The gate closes behind them with a heavy sound.
CUT TO:
13. EXT. FOREST EDGE — DAWN
AILI kneels where the snow was disturbed last night.
The men hold torches even though it’s light—habit, comfort.
NYARMA points.
NYARMA
Here.
AILI sees it: a shallow groove in the snow, a line like something was dragged.
A footprint beside it, narrow, elongated.
MAN #1
Snowshoes.
AILI
Not ours.
NYARMA moves forward, scanning.
NYARMA
They walk light.
They learned how from someone.
AILI follows the tracks with her eyes.
They circle. They weave. They do not go straight.
AILI
Why circle the village?
NYARMA crouches, touches the snow, then brings fingers close to her nose.
NYARMA
They were counting steps. Listening.
They wanted to know where the soft parts are.
One of the men spits.
MAN #2
Soft parts?
NYARMA looks at him with contempt.
NYARMA
Children. Old people. Doors.
And hearts.
They move deeper into the trees.
CUT TO:
14. EXT. FOREST — MORNING
The trees close in. The wind is less here. Too still.
AILI walks carefully. The men behind her crunch too loudly.
She signals with two fingers—quiet.
They obey, badly.
NYARMA stops suddenly.
AILI stops with her.
In the snow ahead: a small mound. A bundle.
AILI raises her bow. The men raise spears.
NYARMA approaches alone, fearless.
She pokes the bundle with the tip of her knife.
It shifts.
A dead RABBIT rolls out. Its belly is split.
Something is inside it—wrapped in gut string.
NYARMA cuts the string, pulls out a small carved piece of wood: a spiral mark.
AILI’s jaw tightens.
AILI
They’re leaving them like breadcrumbs.
NYARMA turns the wood in her hand.
NYARMA
Not breadcrumbs. Hooks.
MAN #3
What does it mean?
NYARMA looks into the trees, listening.
NYARMA
It means “follow.”
A faint THUMP in the distance. Not far.
All the men freeze.
AILI’s voice is a whisper.
AILI
They’re close.
NYARMA nods once.
NYARMA
They want you to hear them.
AILI scans the trees.
Nothing.
Then, a shape high in a pine—something pale. A face? A mask?
AILI draws her bow—
A twig snaps behind them.
Everyone turns—
Nothing there.
The men breathe too loudly.
AILI lowers the bow.
AILI
They’re moving us.
MAN #1
Back to the village.
AILI thinks. Then shakes her head.
AILI
If we run, they learn we run.
She looks at NYARMA.
AILI (CONT'D)
If we follow, what do we learn?
NYARMA’s eyes are flat.
NYARMA
We learn which one of us they want first.
CUT TO:
15. EXT. FROZEN STREAM — LATER
They reach a narrow stream frozen over, a slick ribbon under snow.
Tracks converge here—many, light.
AILI crouches, brushes snow away with her glove.
Underneath: ice scraped—fresh.
She looks upstream and sees a dark gap in the bank where water moves under the ice.
A hidden passage.
NYARMA points at a tree.
Hanging from a low branch: a strip of cloth.
Kven cloth.
AILI steps closer. Recognizes it—pattern woven by her mother’s hand.
Her breath catches.
AILI
That’s ours.
One of the men makes a small sound of grief.
NYARMA doesn’t soften.
NYARMA
They took someone last night.
Quietly.
AILI forces herself to focus.
She studies the cloth. Sees faint brown.
Blood, old, diluted.
MAN #2
Who?
AILI’s eyes flick toward the village direction—then back to the cloth.
AILI
Not who.
Why leave this?
NYARMA points at the stream bank, the dark gap.
NYARMA
Invitation.
A faint THUMP again, closer. Then another.
THUMP… THUMP…
AILI stands, looking around.
AILI
They’re watching us watch.
The men tighten their grips.
ISAAC’S voice suddenly from behind them—
ISAAC (O.S.)
If you go in there, you’ll die.
They whirl.
ISAAC stands among the trees, breathing hard, cloak thrown over his shoulders, face pale.
AILI stares, furious.
AILI
You followed us.
ISAAC swallows.
ISAAC
I didn’t sleep. I heard you leave.
I— I’ve seen ambushes. This is an ambush.
NYARMA looks him over like she’s reading a ledger.
NYARMA
Why come?
ISAAC looks at the cloth hanging from the branch.
ISAAC
Because you’ll go anyway.
And because— if you die, I’m next.
I’m a stranger. Strangers are easy meat.
One of the men steps toward Isaac, spear half-raised.
MAN #3
Speak careful.
AILI gestures him down.
AILI
What did you mean by ambush?
ISAAC points at the stream gap.
ISAAC
That hole is a throat.
You crawl in, your weapons catch, your men
line up behind you like fish in a net.
They pick you one by one.
NYARMA’s eyes remain on the trees.
NYARMA
He is right.
AILI turns sharply.
AILI
Then what?
NYARMA points to the ice.
NYARMA
Break the throat.
AILI understands.
She looks at the men.
AILI
Spread out. Five steps between.
Watch the branches, not the ground.
If you see white where it shouldn’t be,
put a spear through it.
The men nod, uneasy.
They spread.
AILI steps onto the frozen stream, testing the ice with her boot.
It holds.
She pulls out her knife, then looks at ISAAC.
AILI (CONT'D)
You said traps. Noise-makers.
ISAAC blinks.
ISAAC
Yes.
AILI
Make us one.
ISAAC hesitates, then rummages in his pockets. He produces small bronze weights, a length of cord, a metal ring.
ISAAC
This is for measuring.
AILI
Now it’s for living.
ISAAC ties the weights onto the cord, quick hands. He hands it to AILI.
ISAAC
Stretch it between trees. Low. Ankle height.
When they move, it sings.
AILI nods, impressed despite herself.
NYARMA watches Isaac.
NYARMA
You learn fast.
ISAAC’s face tightens.
ISAAC
I’ve had practice.
AILI looks down at the ice, then at the dark gap.
AILI
We don’t go in. We make them come out.
NYARMA smiles—small, grim.
NYARMA
Now you speak like the north.
A faint THUMP, very close now—like it’s under the ice.
The ice beneath AILI vibrates.
She freezes.
AILI
Everyone— off the stream.
Too late.
A CRACK shoots across the ice like lightning.
One of the men slips, falls hard.
The ice GROANS.
From beneath the snow at the bank—A HAND bursts up, pale, smeared with ash.
Then another.
Masks—white bone—rise from the streamside like spirits climbing out of the earth.
The men shout.
AILI draws her bow—
NYARMA moves first, fast as a strike.
NYARMA
Don’t scream!
A mask turns toward them, head cocked.
THUMP—right beside them now.
CUT TO BLACK.
FADE IN:
16. EXT. FROZEN STREAM — CONTINUOUS
Chaos breaks loose.
One WENDOL lunges up from the bank, bone mask slick with ice and mud. Another claws out behind it.
AILI looses an arrow—
It hits a mask. CRACKS it—but doesn’t stop the body behind it.
MAN #1
Gods—
NYARMA drives her spear downward, pinning a WENDOL’s arm to the ice. The creature SCREAMS—high, almost animal.
The sound echoes unnaturally through the trees.
NYARMA
Don’t listen!
The pinned WENDOL twists violently, snapping the spear shaft, then BITES NYARMA’S LEG.
NYARMA doesn’t scream. She SLAMS her knife down into its neck.
Blood sprays black against the snow.
AILI grabs the fallen man and drags him off the ice as a second CRACK splits open beneath them.
AILI
MOVE! MOVE!
ISAAC yanks the cord with the bronze weights tight between two trees.
A WENDOL charges—hits the cord—
CLANG—CLANG—CLANG—
The sound RINGS sharp and metallic, cutting through the drums.
The WENDOL stumbles, confused by the noise.
ISAAC
NOW!
AILI fires point-blank. The arrow punches through the WENDOL’s throat.
It collapses, gurgling.
The remaining masked figures hesitate.
The DRUM STOPS.
Silence—thick, wrong.
NYARMA rises, limping, blood running down her leg.
She scans the trees.
NYARMA
Too easy.
As if summoned—
A PIERCING SHRIEK from deeper in the forest.
The sound is answered—left, right, behind.
Figures move between trees. Not charging. Herding.
AILI
They’re pushing us.
MAN #2
Toward what?
A sudden WHISTLE—something flies through the air—
A weighted rope snaps around MAN #2’s legs. He falls hard, dragged screaming into the brush.
MAN #2
AILI—
The sound cuts off.
AILI lunges forward—
NYARMA grabs her.
NYARMA
You don’t chase the hook!
AILI trembles with rage.
AILI
We leave him?!
NYARMA
If you follow, they take two.
AILI’s eyes burn, but she forces herself to nod.
AILI
Pull back! Tree line! Slow!
They retreat in tight formation.
Masks flicker at the edges of vision—always just out of reach.
CUT TO:
17. EXT. FOREST RIDGE — MOMENTS LATER
They burst onto higher ground.
Wind howls. Visibility clears slightly.
ISAAC nearly slips—AILI grabs him.
ISAAC
Thank you.
AILI
Stay upright or stay quiet.
Below them, the forest shifts.
WENDOL figures appear at the edge of the trees—but do not follow uphill.
They stand in a loose semicircle.
One steps forward—TALLER than the others. Broad shoulders. A mask shaped like a bear skull.
This is TORO.
He raises one arm.
The others fall silent.
TORO tilts his head, studying AILI.
Then he slowly lifts something in his other hand.
A strip of cloth.
Kven cloth.
He drops it into the snow.
Turns.
Walks back into the trees.
The others follow.
No rush. No fear.
The forest swallows them.
The DRUM resumes—distant now.
THUMP… THUMP…
ISAAC
They let us go.
NYARMA spits blood into the snow.
NYARMA
No.
They finished speaking.
AILI stares at the cloth in the snow.
She does not move.
CUT TO:
18. EXT. KVEN VILLAGE — DAY
The gate opens.
The survivors enter—bloodied, fewer than before.
Villagers rush forward, counting faces.
A woman cries out when she doesn’t see her husband.
AILI cannot meet her eyes.
VÄINÖ steps forward, already knowing.
VÄINÖ
Who?
AILI swallows.
AILI
Olli.
The woman collapses.
Two others catch her.
NYARMA limps past, face carved from stone.
VÄINÖ
What did you learn?
AILI looks up.
AILI
They’re not spirits.
They’re trained.
They use cords, signals, traps.
They learn us and feed on the gaps.
VÄINÖ
And the myth?
AILI gestures to the forest.
AILI
They wear it like armor.
ISAAC steps forward, surprising everyone.
ISAAC
Then stop fighting the armor.
Starve the body inside it.
The villagers turn—hostile murmurs.
ELDER MAN
You speak like you know them.
ISAAC chooses his words carefully.
ISAAC
I know people who survive by becoming
something others fear.
If the Wendol raid to eat, they also raid
to control where you move.
VÄINÖ
Meaning?
ISAAC
They need you predictable.
They need you afraid enough to stay put.
NYARMA nods.
NYARMA
They don’t hunt villages.
They hunt routes.
AILI understands.
AILI
Boats. Rivers. Winter crossings.
VÄINÖ looks toward the frozen shoreline.
VÄINÖ
They’re closing the north.
A long silence.
Then—
AILI
Then we open it.
CUT TO:
19. INT. LONGHOUSE — NIGHT
A rough map scratched into packed earth.
Rivers. Forests. Coast.
AILI, NYARMA, ISAAC, VÄINÖ, and several elders crouch around it.
AILI points.
AILI
They expect us to fortify.
To hide.
To wait for hunger.
ISAAC
And when hunger comes, they appear as gods.
NYARMA
They avoid daylight.
Avoid open ice.
Avoid water when it moves fast.
AILI draws a line with a stick.
AILI
Then we travel when they won’t.
We move food by day.
We bait the night.
Murmurs.
ELDER WOMAN
You’d use people as bait?
AILI meets her gaze.
AILI
No.
We use fear as bait.
And teeth as the hook.
ISAAC leans forward.
ISAAC
You need something they can’t ignore.
NYARMA reaches into her pouch.
She places the spiral carving on the map.
NYARMA
This.
AILI looks at it.
AILI
You’d steal their sign?
NYARMA
We take it back.
VÄINÖ exhales slowly.
VÄINÖ
You’re proposing war.
AILI nods.
AILI
They already did.
CUT TO:
20. EXT. COASTAL CLIFF — NIGHT
Wind howls. Waves smash against ice-choked rocks below.
A SINGLE FIRE burns near the edge—unnatural, deliberate.
Bone charms hang from poles around it, clacking softly.
AILI crouches behind rocks with NYARMA and ISAAC.
Below them, in the trees—
Movement.
Shadows gather.
ISAAC
They came.
AILI
Of course they did.
NYARMA watches intently.
NYARMA
They’re cautious.
From the forest edge, TORO emerges again.
He stops at the treeline, staring at the fire, the charms.
He raises one hand.
The DRUM BEGINS—slow, measured.
THUMP… THUMP…
The Wendol step forward, spreading out.
AILI whispers.
AILI
Wait.
TORO steps closer to the fire.
The flames illuminate his mask—carved teeth, hollow eyes.
NYARMA’s voice is barely sound.
NYARMA
He’s not the leader.
AILI
How do you know?
NYARMA
He looks back before he moves.
AILI watches.
She sees it—TORO glances, just for a heartbeat, into the trees.
AILI smiles grimly.
AILI
Good.
She signals.
From the darkness behind the Wendol—
METALLIC CLANGING erupts as ISAAC’S noise lines are triggered.
The drums falter.
Shadows shift—confusion.
AILI rises, stepping into firelight.
She lifts a bone mask—WENDOL STYLE—high over her head.
AILI (CONT'D)
You want stories?
Her voice carries over the wind.
AILI (CONT'D)
Then listen.
She DROPS the mask into the fire.
It burns. Cracks. Collapses.
The Wendol freeze.
TORO stiffens.
From deep in the forest—
A CALM VOICE, FEMALE, OLDER.
WENDOL MATRIARCH (O.S.)
Careful, girl.
Silence.
The trees part.
A FIGURE steps forward—no mask.
Just a woman. Weathered. Watching.
WENDOL MATRIARCH (CONT'D)
Once you break a story,
you must live without it.
AILI meets her gaze.
The fire crackles between them.
AILI
Then step into the daylight.
A beat.
The Matriarch smiles—slow, knowing.
WENDOL MATRIARCH
Soon.
She turns.
The Wendol withdraw—not fleeing. Choosing.
The drums stop.
The forest closes.
AILI exhales, shaking.
ISAAC
You just declared something.
AILI
Yes.
ISAAC
What?
AILI watches the darkness.
AILI
That we are no longer afraid of the dark.
NYARMA shakes her head softly.
NYARMA
Don’t lie to yourself.
We’re terrified.
AILI nods.
AILI
But now they know it too.
FADE OUT.
FADE IN:
21. EXT. COASTAL CLIFF — LATER NIGHT
The fire has burned low. Bone charms are reduced to ash.
AILI, NYARMA, and ISAAC crouch close, conserving heat.
Below, the sea BOOMS against ice.
No drums. No movement.
Too quiet.
ISAAC
They withdrew faster than I expected.
NYARMA
They listened.
AILI watches the treeline.
AILI
Or they marked us.
NYARMA presses a cloth to her wounded leg, tightens it.
NYARMA
Toro will come again.
Not tonight.
Tonight is for remembering.
ISAAC frowns.
ISAAC
Remembering what?
NYARMA
Who eats last.
AILI stands.
AILI
We go back before dawn.
No straight paths.
ISAAC gathers the remaining cord and bronze weights.
ISAAC
You’re turning their methods inside out.
AILI
That’s how you skin a story.
They disappear into the dark.
CUT TO:
22. EXT. KVEN VILLAGE — PRE-DAWN
Grey light creeps over the palisade.
The gate opens silently.
The trio slips inside.
VÄINÖ waits with two elders, sleepless.
VÄINÖ
Speak.
AILI doesn’t embellish.
AILI
We met their voice.
She let us live.
A murmur ripples.
ELDER MAN
Mercy?
NYARMA shakes her head.
NYARMA
Assessment.
ISAAC steps forward.
ISAAC
You’ve been promoted from prey
to problem.
VÄINÖ absorbs that.
VÄINÖ
Then we need more problems.
CUT TO:
23. INT. LONGHOUSE — DAY
A planning council.
More faces now—Ugric messengers, fishermen, hunters.
AILI stands over the dirt map again.
AILI
We split food stores.
Move them in daylight.
Use decoys at night.
HUNTER
And if they take the decoys?
AILI
Then they eat noise and air.
NYARMA adds spiral marks at key crossings.
NYARMA
We leave signs where there is nothing.
Let them waste hunger.
ISAAC hesitates, then produces one sealed letter.
ISAAC
I can buy iron.
Not with silver.
With routes.
Eyes turn.
VÄINÖ
You’d trade our paths?
ISAAC
Temporarily.
Information flows faster than blood.
Silence. Then VÄINÖ nods.
VÄINÖ
Choose carefully.
CUT TO:
24. EXT. RIVER CROSSING — DAY
Bright sun. Open ice.
A SMALL CARAVAN moves deliberately: sleds, fish barrels, grain.
Children ride atop loads, laughing—too loud, too obvious.
From the treeline, distant MOVEMENT.
WENDOL scouts watch.
AILI walks openly at the front, bow unstrung, visible.
She wants to be seen.
CUT TO:
25. EXT. FOREST EDGE — SAME
TORO crouches with two others.
He studies the caravan, confused by the daylight boldness.
He raises a hand—signals restraint.
TORO
(low)
Wait.
A YOUNGER WENDOL shifts impatiently.
YOUNGER
Easy meat.
TORO shakes his head.
TORO
Trapped meat.
He glances deeper into the forest.
CUT TO:
26. EXT. RIVER CROSSING — LATER
The caravan reaches mid-ice.
A CHILD drops a mitten. Laughter.
AILI stops, bends to retrieve it.
She looks straight toward the trees—locks eyes with a shadow.
She smiles faintly.
Then—
A LOUD METALLIC CLANG erupts from the far bank.
Another. And another.
Decoy lines triggered.
From multiple directions.
The Wendol scouts flinch.
AILI straightens, raises her hand.
The caravan HALTS as one—disciplined.
AILI
(calling out)
Daylight is ours.
Her voice carries.
No answer.
The shadows recede.
CUT TO:
27. INT. LONGHOUSE — NIGHT
Isaac writes by firelight, careful script.
AILI watches.
AILI
Letters again.
ISAAC
Ledgers of survival.
AILI
To whom?
ISAAC
To men who think the north is empty.
He seals the letter.
ISAAC (CONT'D)
If they come, they come with boats and rules.
If they don’t, the Wendol starve slower.
AILI considers.
AILI
You’re gambling.
ISAAC
Always.
A beat.
AILI
If your people change their law—
what happens to those who don’t?
ISAAC doesn’t answer right away.
ISAAC
They become stories told by the faithful.
AILI nods—understanding too well.
CUT TO:
28. EXT. WENDOL WINTER CAMP — NIGHT
Hidden deep in forest.
Bone racks. Smoked meat. Skulls cleaned carefully.
The WENDOL MATRIARCH sits by a low fire.
TORO kneels before her.
TORO
They move in sun.
They bait us with children.
The Matriarch stirs embers with a stick.
WENDOL MATRIARCH
Good.
Fear has made them clever.
TORO
We should strike hard.
Break them now.
She looks up at him.
WENDOL MATRIARCH
And feed them unity?
No.
She gestures to a bundle beside her.
Inside—maps scratched on bark. Routes. Marks.
WENDOL MATRIARCH (CONT'D)
We take a river they forgot.
We take someone important.
We remind them what night costs.
TORO bows his head.
TORO
Who?
The Matriarch smiles thinly.
WENDOL MATRIARCH
The one who teaches them to count.
CUT TO:
29. EXT. KVEN VILLAGE — DAWN
Snow falls softly.
ISAAC steps out of the longhouse alone, cloak tight.
He breathes, steadying himself.
A SHADOW moves behind him.
A hand clamps over his mouth.
He struggles—but a blade presses under his jaw.
VOICE (O.S.)
Quiet, teacher.
The world tilts.
CUT TO BLACK.
SILENCE.
Then—
THUMP.
THUMP.
THUMP.
FADE OUT.
FADE IN:
30. EXT. FOREST PATH — NIGHT
Dark. Moving fast.
ISAAC is dragged through snow, half-conscious, boots scraping roots and ice.
Hands like iron clamp his arms. His mouth is bound with leather.
The DRUMS are not loud here—just a steady pulse, close to the body.
THUMP… THUMP…
Isaac’s eyes flutter open.
Above him—branches racing past. Bone charms sway.
A masked face leans into view.
TORO.
Toro studies Isaac with something like curiosity.
TORO
You smell like ink.
Isaac tries to speak. The gag bites into his mouth.
Toro straightens.
TORO (CONT’D)
The Matriarch will like you.
They move faster.
CUT TO:
31. EXT. KVEN VILLAGE — DAWN
The village wakes wrong.
A door hangs open.
No blood. No tracks. Just absence.
AILI steps out, senses it instantly.
AILI
Isaac.
NYARMA emerges behind her, already knowing.
NYARMA
They waited for quiet.
That means purpose.
VÄINÖ approaches, grave.
VÄINÖ
Who was on watch?
A young man steps forward, shaking.
WATCHMAN
I— I heard nothing.
No drums.
NYARMA’s eyes harden.
NYARMA
They don’t drum when they want you asleep.
AILI scans the snow.
She finds it—one clean print. Narrow. Deliberate.
Next to it: a spiral carved into ice.
AILI exhales through her teeth.
AILI
They took the wrong man.
VÄINÖ looks at her sharply.
VÄINÖ
Or the right one.
CUT TO:
32. INT. LONGHOUSE — MORNING
Council again. Tenser. Sharper.
AILI slams her hand onto the dirt map.
AILI
They crossed the inner ring.
They learned our watches.
That means we’ve already lost if we stay still.
ELDER MAN
He was a guest.
NYARMA
He was bait.
They just decided when to swallow.
VÄINÖ turns to AILI.
VÄINÖ
Can we track them?
NYARMA answers before AILI can.
NYARMA
Yes.
They want us to.
Murmurs.
ELDER WOMAN
Then it’s a trap.
AILI
Every path is a trap now.
The difference is who closes it.
A beat.
VÄINÖ nods once.
VÄINÖ
Choose.
AILI doesn’t hesitate.
AILI
I go.
Nyarma goes.
Three more who can move without thinking.
Silence.
Then KASPER steps forward.
KASPER
I owe him for the rope.
Another man follows. Then another.
VÄINÖ looks at them—proud and afraid.
VÄINÖ
You don’t bring him back—
you bring back what you learn.
AILI meets his eyes.
AILI
I’ll bring both.
CUT TO:
33. EXT. WENDOL TERRITORY — DAY
The forest here is older. Thicker. Wrong.
AILI’s group moves slowly, low, silent.
NYARMA reads the ground like text.
NYARMA
They didn’t hurry.
That means he’s alive.
KASPER
Or they don’t care.
NYARMA stops. Kneels.
She touches the snow. Smells it.
NYARMA
No blood.
No waste.
He’s valuable.
AILI’s jaw tightens.
AILI
Then they’ll keep him close.
They move on.
CUT TO:
34. EXT. WENDOL WINTER CAMP — DUSK
The camp reveals itself gradually.
Bone racks. Smoke pits. Snow walls packed hard.
Silent efficiency.
From a ridge, AILI watches.
AILI
How many?
NYARMA
Enough.
They spot ISAAC.
He kneels by the fire, hands bound—but alive.
The WENDOL MATRIARCH sits opposite him, calm, patient.
Toro stands nearby.
AILI’s breath fogs.
AILI
We don’t charge.
KASPER
Then what?
AILI
We listen.
CUT TO:
35. INT. WENDOL CAMP — CONTINUOUS
Isaac kneels. The Matriarch studies him like a tool.
WENDOL MATRIARCH
You count paths.
You teach them when to move.
Isaac lifts his head slowly.
ISAAC
I teach them how not to die.
She smiles faintly.
WENDOL MATRIARCH
Same thing.
She gestures. Toro cuts Isaac’s gag—but not his bonds.
WENDOL MATRIARCH (CONT’D)
Your people in the south—
they change skins to survive.
ISAAC
So do yours.
A flicker of approval.
WENDOL MATRIARCH
We change teeth.
Less subtle.
She leans closer.
WENDOL MATRIARCH (CONT’D)
Tell me—
when your kings change law,
who starves first?
Isaac meets her gaze.
ISAAC
Those who don’t fit the new measure.
She nods.
WENDOL MATRIARCH
Then you understand us.
ISAAC
I understand hunger.
Not choosing to become it.
A beat.
She considers him.
WENDOL MATRIARCH
You think you chose otherwise?
She stands.
WENDOL MATRIARCH (CONT’D)
Tonight, you will teach my people routes.
Tomorrow, you will eat with us.
Or you will be eaten.
She turns away.
Toro watches Isaac closely.
TORO
Pray well, teacher.
CUT TO:
36. EXT. RIDGE ABOVE CAMP — NIGHT
AILI clenches her fists.
AILI
They’re not killing him yet.
NYARMA
No.
They’re testing his shape.
KASPER
We can’t wait.
AILI thinks. Calculates.
AILI
We don’t fight the camp.
We steal the night back.
She looks at NYARMA.
AILI (CONT’D)
Can you break the drums?
NYARMA smiles—a predator’s smile.
NYARMA
I can make them lie.
CUT TO:
37. EXT. WENDOL CAMP — LATE NIGHT
Drums begin.
THUMP… THUMP…
NYARMA crawls low, circling wide, placing small stones, bones, cords.
She listens. Adjusts.
She taps a rhythm softly with a stick.
THUMP—pause—THUMP THUMP—
The DRUMS stutter.
Inside the camp, Wendol look up—confused.
Another rhythm answers from the trees.
THUMP THUMP—pause—THUMP—
Wrong.
Toro stiffens.
TORO
That’s not us.
AILI’s group moves—silent, deadly.
They cut tethers. Spill food into snow. Slash drum skins.
AILI reaches ISAAC.
She cuts his bonds.
AILI
Can you walk?
Isaac nods, dazed.
ISAAC
You’re very bad at staying alive.
AILI
Move.
A SHOUT goes up.
The Matriarch steps into firelight.
She sees Isaac free.
She does not shout.
She raises her hand.
The camp stills.
She looks directly at AILI in the shadows.
WENDOL MATRIARCH
You learn quickly.
AILI steps forward, bow raised.
AILI
Let him go.
This ends here.
The Matriarch smiles sadly.
WENDOL MATRIARCH
Nothing ends.
It only moves.
She gestures.
TORO charges.
NYARMA hurls a torch—
It hits a stacked rack of fat and resin.
WHOOMPH.
Fire blooms—wild, bright.
The Wendol recoil—daylight terror.
AILI looses an arrow—
It strikes TORO in the shoulder.
He roars, stumbles.
TORO
(to AILI)
You broke the rules!
AILI
So did you.
More fire. More confusion.
AILI drags ISAAC back.
The Matriarch watches the flames consume her stores.
Her eyes are cold.
WENDOL MATRIARCH
Winter will answer this.
She turns away—vanishing into smoke.
CUT TO:
38. EXT. FOREST — DAWN
AILI’s group runs hard.
Behind them—no pursuit.
Just silence.
They stop at a ridge, gasping.
ISAAC bends over, retching.
ISAAC
They let us go.
Again.
NYARMA nods.
NYARMA
Because now it’s war without masks.
AILI looks back toward the forest.
Smoke rises faintly.
AILI
No.
Now it’s winter without stories.
She shoulders her bow.
AILI (CONT’D)
And that’s worse.
FADE OUT.
FADE IN:
39. EXT. HIGH RIDGE — MORNING
The sky is hard blue. Cold enough to hurt.
AILI, NYARMA, ISAAC, and the others move carefully now—no panic, no chase.
Smoke still threads the treetops far behind them.
ISAAC
She let us burn her food.
NYARMA
She let us burn what she could replace.
AILI stops, turns.
AILI
Then what did we really take?
NYARMA looks at her.
NYARMA
Time.
ISAAC straightens, thinking.
ISAAC
And certainty.
Leaders hate uncertainty more than loss.
AILI nods once.
AILI
Then we don’t give it back.
CUT TO:
40. EXT. KVEN VILLAGE — DAY
The village receives them like survivors from a storm.
Relief. Then anger. Then questions.
VÄINÖ grips Isaac’s shoulders, rough but grateful.
VÄINÖ
You’re alive.
ISAAC
Temporarily.
VÄINÖ snorts despite himself.
AILI steps up.
AILI
They lost stores.
They lost drums.
They did not lose people.
The relief dims.
ELDER WOMAN
So they will answer.
NYARMA limps forward.
NYARMA
Not with rage.
With cold.
CUT TO:
41. INT. LONGHOUSE — NIGHT
The council is quieter than before. No shouting. No hope wasted.
AILI scratches new marks onto the dirt map—routes erased, crossings crossed out.
AILI
We abandon the eastern river.
We move north along the coast.
Open ice. Wind. No cover.
ELDER MAN
That’s madness.
AILI
That’s daylight.
ISAAC sits apart, thinking.
ISAAC
In the south, when cities expect siege,
caravans leave before the walls close.
VÄINÖ looks at him.
VÄINÖ
You’re saying we leave.
ISAAC
I’m saying you stop being a single mouth.
Silence.
NYARMA
Disperse.
Rejoin.
Leave bones that lead nowhere.
AILI meets VÄINÖ’s eyes.
AILI
If we stay, we become a story they tell
their children.
VÄINÖ exhales slowly.
VÄINÖ
Then we move.
CUT TO:
42. EXT. COAST — DAY
The village dismantles itself.
Boats dragged onto ice. Supplies split, hidden, redistributed.
Children are taught new signals—hand signs, bird calls.
AILI oversees, relentless.
NYARMA watches the forest edge, always listening.
ISAAC helps pack ledgers and weights—then pauses, looking south.
ISAAC
If I leave with the traders—
I can bring iron by spring.
AILI studies him.
AILI
And if you don’t?
ISAAC
Then spring is someone else’s problem.
She nods.
AILI
Go.
But if you come back—
come honest.
ISAAC smiles faintly.
ISAAC
I don’t know how.
CUT TO:
43. EXT. WENDOL TERRITORY — NIGHT
The forest listens.
The WENDOL MATRIARCH walks alone, unmasked, snow crunching underfoot.
Toro follows at a distance, wounded arm bound.
TORO
We should hunt them now.
While they scatter.
She stops.
WENDOL MATRIARCH
No.
TORO
They burned our winter.
She turns to him.
WENDOL MATRIARCH
They burned certainty.
Hunger we understand.
Uncertainty teaches mistakes.
She looks toward the coast.
WENDOL MATRIARCH (CONT’D)
They want us to chase shadows.
TORO
Then what do we hunt?
She smiles thinly.
WENDOL MATRIARCH
Spring.
CUT TO:
44. EXT. COASTAL ICE — DUSK
Small groups move separately now.
AILI leads one—fast, light.
Behind her, KASPER slips.
She grabs him.
AILI
Careful.
KASPER
I keep thinking I hear drums.
AILI listens.
Nothing.
AILI
That’s the trick.
When the drums stop, your head keeps them.
They move on.
CUT TO:
45. EXT. SEA ICE — NIGHT
Wind howls. Stars burn hard.
AILI’s group camps without fire—huddled, silent.
NYARMA watches the horizon.
NYARMA
They won’t strike tonight.
AILI
How do you know?
NYARMA
Too empty.
Predators like borders.
AILI pulls her cloak tighter.
AILI
Then we erase them.
CUT TO:
46. INT. WENDOL CAMP — NIGHT
Rebuilt. Smaller. Leaner.
Drums absent.
People eat sparingly.
The Matriarch watches children gnaw dried meat.
Her jaw tightens.
WENDOL MATRIARCH
Teach them silence.
A woman nods.
WENDOL MATRIARCH (CONT’D)
When spring comes,
we take what walks in daylight.
CUT TO:
47. EXT. RIDGE ABOVE COAST — DAWN
AILI stands alone, scanning the world.
The village is gone—only tracks fading into snow.
NYARMA approaches quietly.
NYARMA
We survived the story.
AILI
For now.
NYARMA
That’s all survival ever is.
They stand together.
Below, the sea cracks—ice shifting, routes changing.
AILI grips her bow.
AILI
If spring comes early—
NYARMA
Then everyone bleeds faster.
A beat.
AILI
And if it comes late?
NYARMA looks north.
NYARMA
Then the Wendol starve.
And starving gods become desperate men.
The wind rises.
FADE OUT.
TITLE CARD:
**WINTER HOLDS.**
END OF ACT II.
FADE IN:
ACT III
48. EXT. ICEBOUND COAST — DAY
Weeks later.
The sun is higher but weak. The ice groans constantly now—alive, shifting.
AILI leads a small band hauling sleds over open ice. Everyone is thinner.
NYARMA lags behind, studying cracks, listening.
NYARMA
Spring is arguing with winter.
AILI
Who’s winning?
NYARMA presses her ear to the ice.
NYARMA
No one yet.
A distant BIRD CALL—wrong rhythm.
AILI freezes, raises her fist.
The group stops.
AILI
That’s not ours.
NYARMA’s eyes narrow.
NYARMA
Neither are they.
CUT TO:
49. EXT. SEA ICE — DISTANCE
WENDOL figures move far out—unmasked now, wrapped in pale hides.
No drums. No ritual.
Just hunters.
They are spreading wide, cutting off daylight routes.
AILI (O.S.)
They learned.
CUT TO:
50. EXT. COASTAL SHELTER — NIGHT
A crude windbreak of ice blocks and skins.
AILI’s group huddles.
Food is rationed—carefully measured.
KASPER stares at his portion.
KASPER
We can’t keep moving like this.
AILI
We don’t need to.
Just long enough.
NYARMA sharpens her blade.
NYARMA
They’re hunting paths now.
Not people.
AILI
Then we give them one.
CUT TO:
51. EXT. OPEN ICE — DAY
A single sled moves openly across a wide, dangerous stretch.
Too obvious.
On it: barrels. Rope. One FIGURE walking alone.
From afar, Wendol scouts observe.
They signal—quiet, efficient.
CUT TO:
52. EXT. ICE RIDGE — SAME
AILI, NYARMA, and others lie flat behind ice hummocks.
They watch the sled.
KASPER
That’s suicide.
AILI
That’s bait.
NYARMA watches the ice beneath the sled.
NYARMA
Thin.
AILI
Thin enough?
NYARMA nods once.
CUT TO:
53. EXT. OPEN ICE — MOMENTS LATER
The lone FIGURE pulls the sled onward.
A WENDOL hunter breaks cover—then another.
They move fast now, confident.
One throws a weighted cord—it catches the sled.
The ice SHIFTS.
A low, spreading CRACK.
The Wendol hesitate—
Too late.
The ice GIVES WAY.
Water erupts. Black. Violent.
The sled and two Wendol plunge in, screaming.
The others scramble back.
From the ridge—
AILI stands.
AILI
NOW!
CUT TO:
54. EXT. ICE RIDGE — CONTINUOUS
AILI’s group rises, loosing arrows.
Not many—precise.
Two Wendol fall.
The rest retreat, shocked.
No drums. No order.
Just men running from cold water.
NYARMA
They bleed like us.
AILI doesn’t smile.
AILI
Bleeding isn’t winning.
CUT TO:
55. EXT. WENDOL CAMP — NIGHT
Smaller still.
Faces drawn. Children crying quietly.
The MATRIARCH listens to reports.
TORO
They use the ice.
They make traps we can’t drum away.
The Matriarch closes her eyes.
WENDOL MATRIARCH
Then we stop being night.
She opens them.
WENDOL MATRIARCH (CONT’D)
We speak.
CUT TO:
56. EXT. COASTAL HEADLAND — DAY
Open ground. Wind-scoured rock.
AILI waits with NYARMA.
No weapons raised—visible, cautious.
From the trees, the WENDOL MATRIARCH approaches—alone, unmasked.
She stops ten paces away.
WENDOL MATRIARCH
You’ve taught my people to fear daylight.
AILI
You taught mine to fear breathing.
A pause.
WENDOL MATRIARCH
Winter is ending.
That favors you.
AILI
It favors those who adapt.
The Matriarch studies AILI.
WENDOL MATRIARCH
You want us gone.
AILI
I want my children to grow old.
Silence.
The wind carries the sea.
WENDOL MATRIARCH
We cannot go south.
They’ll kill us slower.
AILI
Then go east.
Past the broken rivers.
Don’t return.
WENDOL MATRIARCH
And starve?
AILI
Or change.
The word hangs heavy.
The Matriarch almost laughs.
WENDOL MATRIARCH
You speak like a lawgiver.
AILI
I speak like someone who learned
monsters are choices.
A long beat.
WENDOL MATRIARCH
If we leave—
your stories will follow us.
AILI
Stories fade when children stop repeating them.
The Matriarch looks north—then back.
WENDOL MATRIARCH
One winter.
One crossing.
AILI
If you return—
WENDOL MATRIARCH
We won’t be asking.
They hold each other’s gaze.
Finally—the Matriarch steps back.
She raises her hand—flat, open.
Not a threat.
A farewell.
She turns and walks away.
CUT TO:
57. EXT. COAST — DAWN
Movement everywhere.
Small Wendol groups heading east—thin, silent, human.
No masks.
No drums.
AILI watches from a ridge.
NYARMA stands beside her.
NYARMA
Some will come back.
AILI
Probably.
NYARMA
Then what?
AILI exhales.
AILI
Then someone else will stand here.
CUT TO:
58. EXT. SHORELINE — DAY
ISAAC returns by boat—thin, bearded, alive.
Iron ingots glint under skins.
AILI meets him.
ISAAC
The south is changing faster than winter.
AILI
Did you bring trouble?
ISAAC smiles.
ISAAC
Always.
He looks north—empty now.
ISAAC (CONT’D)
The stories downriver already changed.
They say the Wendol were never monsters.
Just hunger with a name.
AILI nods.
AILI
Names matter.
ISAAC studies her.
ISAAC
So does who gets to write them.
CUT TO:
59. EXT. KVENLAND — SPRING
Ice breaks. Water runs free.
Children play near boats—unafraid.
AILI watches, older now in posture if not years.
NYARMA sits nearby, carving—not spirals, but boats.
NYARMA
The myth will come back.
It always does.
AILI
Then we’ll meet it again.
She looks toward the open horizon.
AILI (CONT’D)
Without masks.
FADE OUT.
FINAL TITLE CARD:
**THE WENDOL WERE REAL.
THE FEAR WAS CHOSEN.**
END.
FADE IN:
EPILOGUE
60. EXT. NORTHERN RIVER DELTA — YEARS LATER — DUSK
Spring floodwaters. Wide, powerful.
New boats. New docks. Trade banners flutter.
This is no longer a hidden village — it’s a **crossing point**.
Children run along the docks, shouting in mixed tongues: Kven, Ugric, trade-speech.
AILI (older now, late 30s) stands at the edge of the water.
Leader without ceremony. Authority without crown.
NYARMA (grey in her hair now) carves driftwood beside her.
NYARMA
The river is busy.
AILI
Busy rivers mean quiet forests.
NYARMA
For a while.
A boat arrives from the south.
Black sail.
Bronze fittings.
Not a trader’s vessel.
A diplomatic vessel.
CUT TO:
61. EXT. DOCK — CONTINUOUS
ISAAC steps off the boat — older, sharper, dressed in layered southern robes.
With him: TWO MEN in formal attire, guarded, educated.
One carries scroll cases.
Seals.
The markings of **Khazar administration**.
AILI studies them.
AILI
You don’t bring merchants.
ISAAC
No.
I brought borders.
The men bow stiffly.
SOUTHERN ENVOY
Lady of the North —
we bring law, protection,
and treaty.
NYARMA snorts quietly.
NYARMA
Those always come together.
AILI doesn’t smile.
AILI
Who are you protecting us from?
The envoy hesitates.
SOUTHERN ENVOY
From instability.
From raiders.
From— old fears.
AILI looks past him — to the river mouth.
AILI
Those fears have names.
And histories.
ISAAC steps closer to her, voice low.
ISAAC
Khazaria is changing fast.
Faith. Law. Borders.
They want the north inside the map.
AILI
And if we say no?
ISAAC meets her eyes.
ISAAC
Then someone else will say it for you.
CUT TO:
62. EXT. TREE LINE — SAME TIME
Far away.
A SMALL GROUP watches the river settlement.
From the shadows.
Not Wendol.
Different clothing.
Different weapons.
Iron helms.
Organized.
Professional.
One of them speaks quietly:
SCOUT
The crossing is rich.
Another replies:
SOLDIER
And unclaimed.
They vanish into the trees.
CUT TO:
63. INT. COUNCIL HALL — NIGHT
A new structure. Timber. Stone hearth.
Maps now carved into wood.
AILI, NYARMA, ISAAC, elders, traders, scouts.
Tension.
ISAAC
The world south of you is reorganizing.
Empires don’t raid like tribes.
They absorb.
ELDER MAN
We beat monsters.
We’ll beat kings.
NYARMA shakes her head.
NYARMA
Kings don’t need drums.
They use paper.
AILI listens — silent.
ISAAC
They won’t come as Wendol.
They’ll come as contracts.
Roads.
Faith.
Law.
ELDER WOMAN
And hunger?
ISAAC
Hunger too.
Always hunger.
Silence.
AILI finally speaks.
AILI
Then the next myth won’t wear bone.
She stands.
AILI (CONT'D)
It’ll wear gold.
And call itself peace.
CUT TO:
64. EXT. RIVER AT NIGHT
Moonlight on water.
AILI stands alone.
NYARMA joins her.
NYARMA
Different enemies.
AILI
Same story.
NYARMA
No.
Worse.
AILI
Why?
NYARMA
Because monsters in masks
teach you to fight.
Laws in books
teach you to kneel.
A beat.
AILI
Then we don’t kneel.
NYARMA smiles softly.
NYARMA
That’s why you’re still alive.
CUT TO:
65. EXT. FAR NORTHERN FOREST — NIGHT
Deep wilderness.
Snow still clings to shadows.
A FIRE burns low.
Around it — a SMALL TRIBE.
Thin. Scarred.
Survivors.
Ex-Wendol.
Children. Elders.
Human. Just human.
An OLD MAN speaks:
OLD MAN
The south grows teeth made of gold.
The north grows walls made of law.
A YOUNG GIRL listens.
GIRL
What do we grow?
The old man looks into the fire.
OLD MAN
Memory.
The girl stares into the flames.
In the firelight — her shadow looks like a mask.
CUT TO:
66. EXT. SKY — DAWN
The sun rises over Kvenland.
Rivers open.
Routes form.
Ships move.
People move.
The world reorganizing.
NEW DRUMS begin to sound far away — not ritual drums.
WAR DRUMS.
Structured.
Military.
Empire drums.
Not myth.
Not fear.
Conquest.
AILI stands on the ridge, hearing them.
She closes her eyes.
Not afraid.
Not surprised.
Just ready.
AILI (V.O.)
The world doesn’t end with monsters.
It begins with order.
FADE TO BLACK.
TITLE CARD:
**WINTER ENDS.
EMPIRES BEGIN.**
**SEQUEL TITLE:
THE CHILDREN OF ASH AND LAW**
FADE OUT.
FILM II — THE LAW OF TEETH
(Working subtitle: “When monsters become policy”)
Core theme
Civilization can cannibalize without blood.
Genre shift
Logline
Years after the Wendol threat fades, Kvenland becomes strategically valuable. Southern powers—traders, missionaries, mercenaries—arrive with laws and alliances. As famine, faith, and foreign rule collide, Aili must confront a new truth: order can devour faster than monsters ever did.
Story engine
The Wendol myth is rebranded by outsiders.
Not as monsters—
but as justification.
“We must civilize the north.”
“They are savages.”
“Their old fears prove they need rule.”
Act Structure
Act I — The North Is Open
-
Kvenland is thriving: boats, iron, routes
-
Isaac returns as a Khazar intermediary
-
Southern envoys arrive with:
-
priests
-
mercenary guards
-
“protection treaties”
-
Rumors spread:
👉 The myth returns — as propaganda
Act II — Order with a Knife
-
Foreign-backed leaders impose:
-
food quotas
-
population counts
-
faith oaths
-
Villages that resist are “relocated”
-
Wendol survivors are hunted as criminals
-
Aili realizes:
-
Isaac is pressured to choose:
-
serve new law
-
or be erased by it
👉 The north becomes a resource, not a home
Act III — The Price of Peace
-
A false-flag massacre blamed on “Wendol remnants”
-
Aili exposes it publicly
-
The truth fractures alliances
-
Violence erupts anyway — but now it’s legal
-
Aili chooses withdrawal over victory:
-
burns maps
-
scatters people again
-
refuses empire
Ending image:
Southern banners fly over empty land.
They “won.”
There’s no one left to rule.
Ending line (Film II)
Aili:
“They feared monsters.
They became systems.”
FILM III — EATERS OF HISTORY
(Direct thematic bridge into The 13th Warrior)
Core theme
Myths survive longer than people.
Genre
Logline
Generations later, travelers and scholars gather northern tales of cannibals and demons. As the story is retold, distorted, and simplified, a foreign poet-warrior (centuries before Buliwyf) learns that history doesn’t remember people—only fear shaped into story.
Structural brilliance
This film explains why The 13th Warrior exists.
Not by retelling it—
but by showing how truth becomes legend.
Act I — The Story Travels
“They eat the dead.”
“They wear bears.”
“They are not men.”
Act II — The Broken Truth
Because that’s what survives.
Act III — Birth of the Monster
Final montage:
Until—
FINAL SHOT
A VOICE (V.O.), unfamiliar, refined, curious:
“They call them Wendol…”
A silhouette of Viking longships on misty water.
CUT TO BLACK.
FILM II
THE LAW OF TEETH
FADE IN:
1. EXT. KVEN COAST — DAY
Bright. Calm. Almost gentle.
New boats ride the water—larger than before. Iron fittings gleam.
MEN unload grain, salt, cloth. CHILDREN run between hulls.
This is not the village from winter.
AILI (mid-30s) watches from a ridge. Scarred, steady, respected.
NYARMA sits nearby, older now, carving a boat from driftwood.
NYARMA
Too many sails.
AILI
Too many eyes.
A SHIP approaches flying unfamiliar colors.
AILI’s jaw tightens.
CUT TO:
2. EXT. SHORELINE — CONTINUOUS
The ship beaches cleanly.
MEN step off—well-fed, armed, organized.
At their center: a SOUTHERN ENVOY, wrapped in layered robes.
Beside him: MERCENARIES with disciplined posture.
ENVOY
We come under treaty.
AILI does not bow.
AILI
We don’t sign what we haven’t read.
The Envoy smiles politely.
ENVOY
Then you’ll appreciate clarity.
He gestures.
A CLERK unrolls parchment.
ENVOY (CONT’D)
Protection of routes.
Standard measures.
Shared faith.
A beat.
AILI
And the cost?
ENVOY
Order.
NYARMA’s knife pauses mid-carve.
CUT TO:
3. INT. LONGHOUSE — NIGHT
Larger now. Maps on walls. Trade weights.
The ENVOY speaks calmly.
ENVOY
The north has a reputation.
Old stories.
Cannibals.
Drum-people.
Murmurs ripple.
ENVOY (CONT’D)
We help you outgrow them.
AILI rises.
AILI
Those stories were ours.
We buried them.
ENVOY
Stories don’t stay buried.
They get repurposed.
Silence.
ENVOY (CONT’D)
Sign, and the south will forget.
AILI looks around.
No one speaks.
CUT TO:
4. EXT. TREE LINE — NIGHT
A SMALL GROUP moves silently.
Masked.
Not Wendol masks—rough imitations.
They strike a storehouse—fast, brutal.
A GUARD is killed.
The attackers vanish.
A DRUM sounds briefly.
Once.
CUT TO BLACK.
---
5. EXT. KVEN COAST — MORNING
Bodies. Panic.
The ENVOY surveys the damage with practiced sorrow.
ENVOY
I warned you.
AILI studies the dead guard.
The wound is clean. Military.
AILI
These weren’t Wendol.
ENVOY
Fear rarely checks names.
Mercenaries begin posting banners.
CUT TO:
6. INT. LONGHOUSE — DAY
Isaac—OLDER now, heavier, better dressed—stands with ledgers.
ISAAC
Trade routes will close.
Iron will stop.
Winter doesn’t care who’s right.
AILI looks at him.
AILI
And if we sign?
ISAAC
You survive.
Differently.
NYARMA watches Isaac carefully.
NYARMA
Survival has a price.
ISAAC
So does purity.
AILI exhales.
CUT TO:
7. EXT. VILLAGE — DAY
MEN are counted. MARKED with tokens.
FOOD is weighed.
A PRIEST blesses barrels.
A woman refuses.
She is pulled aside.
AILI steps forward.
AILI
She’s sick.
PRIEST
Then she should be grateful
for order before death.
The woman is taken.
NYARMA looks away.
CUT TO:
8. EXT. RIDGE — SUNSET
AILI and NYARMA overlook the coast.
BANNERS snap in the wind.
NYARMA
They replaced the Wendol.
AILI
No.
She watches mercenaries march.
AILI (CONT’D)
They learned from them.
FADE OUT.
TITLE CARD:
**THE LAW OF TEETH**
FADE IN:
9. INT. SOUTHERN ENVOY’S TENT — NIGHT
Canvas. Oil lamps. The smell of ink and damp wool.
The ENVOY sits at a low table with his CLERK, a MERCENARY CAPTAIN, and a PRIEST.
A map is spread out — Kven coastlines marked like a ledger.
ENVOY
One raid. One drum. And they start
begging for walls.
MERCENARY CAPTAIN
We didn’t need the drum.
PRIEST
Fear recognizes its own language.
The Envoy taps the map.
ENVOY
Tomorrow we announce the measures.
Tokens. Oaths. Quotas.
The Clerk hesitates.
CLERK
They’ll resist.
The Envoy smiles without warmth.
ENVOY
Then we’ll call it disorder.
A beat.
PRIEST
And the old stories?
The Envoy looks to the darkness beyond the tent.
ENVOY
We don’t erase stories.
We aim them.
CUT TO:
10. INT. LONGHOUSE — NIGHT
AILI sits with VÄINÖ’S SUCCESSOR — a younger leader, ROUKKA (30s), ambitious and nervous.
NYARMA watches from the edge, quiet.
ISAAC stands near the fire, flipping a bronze weight in his fingers.
ROUKKA
If we reject them, we lose trade.
AILI
If we accept them, we lose ourselves.
ROUKKA
That’s poetry.
AILI stares at him.
AILI
It’s a warning.
Isaac steps forward.
ISAAC
There is no clean choice.
Only choices you can afford.
NYARMA speaks like a blade sliding out.
NYARMA
And what can we afford, Isaac?
Isaac meets her gaze.
ISAAC
Another winter with empty hooks.
Silence.
Roukkа rubs his temples.
ROUKKA
The Envoy says he can protect us
from Wendol remnants.
AILI’s jaw tightens.
AILI
He protected us by making them.
NYARMA looks at AILI — a flicker of approval.
NYARMA
The raid was staged.
Roukkа flinches.
ROUKKA
You can’t know that.
AILI lifts the dead guard’s dagger — sets it on the floor.
Southern make. Fine steel. Not northern.
AILI
I can.
CUT TO:
11. EXT. VILLAGE EDGE — DAWN
Grey light. Frost smoke.
AILI walks the perimeter with NYARMA.
They examine boot prints — uniform tread.
NYARMA points to a broken twig, bent inward.
NYARMA
Someone trained moved here.
AILI crouches, digs into snow, pulls up a scrap of cloth.
Southern dye.
AILI
Not Wendol.
Not Kven.
NYARMA’s eyes scan the treeline.
NYARMA
But they want us to say Wendol.
Because that word makes obedience.
AILI stands.
AILI
Then we don’t give them the word.
CUT TO:
12. EXT. MARKET SHORE — DAY
Southern banners. A “protected” market.
Mercenaries stand like posts.
Kven traders line up with tokens around their necks.
A PRIEST blesses the line. Hands raised.
PRIEST
Order is mercy.
A WOMAN, SALLA (late 20s), steps forward, clutching a sack of fish.
SALLA
My token broke. I can’t get another.
My children—
A MERCENARY grabs her arm.
MERCENARY
Step aside.
AILI pushes through, calm but dangerous.
AILI
Let her go.
The Mercenary looks to his CAPTAIN.
The Captain shrugs as if bored.
MERCENARY CAPTAIN
Tokens are law.
AILI
Tokens are rope.
The Captain smiles.
MERCENARY CAPTAIN
Rope keeps things together.
AILI takes the broken token from Salla’s hand, examines it.
It’s stamped with a seal.
AILI
Who makes these?
MERCENARY CAPTAIN
The Envoy.
AILI hands it back.
AILI
Then the Envoy will replace it.
The Captain steps closer — quiet threat.
MERCENARY CAPTAIN
You’re not the law here.
AILI meets his eyes.
AILI
Not yet.
A beat.
The Captain’s smile hardens.
MERCENARY CAPTAIN
Keep talking.
We’ll find a name for you.
AILI turns away, helping Salla.
NYARMA watches, expression unreadable.
CUT TO:
13. INT. SOUTHERN ENVOY’S TENT — DAY
AILI enters without bowing.
The Envoy looks up as if expecting her.
ENVOY
Aili of the coast.
The woman who burned a myth.
AILI does not sit.
AILI
You staged the raid.
The Envoy raises an eyebrow.
ENVOY
A story needs a beginning.
AILI
A lie needs a mouth.
The Envoy folds his hands.
ENVOY
You speak like someone who wants war.
AILI
I speak like someone who wants truth.
ENVOY
Truth is expensive.
Order is affordable.
AILI leans forward.
AILI
Your “order” is hunger with paperwork.
The Envoy smiles gently — almost kind.
ENVOY
Paper doesn’t bite.
It only decides who eats.
AILI stares, realizing this man will not flinch.
AILI
Remove your mercenaries.
ENVOY
Sign the treaty.
AILI
No.
The Envoy sighs, as if disappointed.
ENVOY
Then you will be responsible
for what happens next.
AILI turns to leave.
ENVOY (CONT’D)
One more thing.
AILI pauses.
ENVOY (CONT’D)
People already whisper your name.
Leaders are useful until they aren’t.
AILI looks back.
AILI
My people don’t eat their leaders.
The Envoy’s smile is thin.
ENVOY
Everyone eats their leaders.
Some do it with teeth.
Some with songs.
CUT TO:
14. INT. LONGHOUSE — NIGHT
A crowded meeting.
Roukkа stands with the Envoy beside him — uneasy alliance.
Mercenaries at the door.
The Priest raises his hands.
PRIEST
We will bless the routes.
We will measure the stores.
We will keep the darkness out.
AILI steps forward.
AILI
Darkness is inside your seals.
Murmurs. Some nod. Some look down.
Roukkа snaps.
ROUKKA
Enough.
We need iron. Salt.
We need stability.
AILI points to the mercenaries.
AILI
That’s not stability. That’s a leash.
The Mercenary Captain shifts his weight.
The Envoy speaks softly.
ENVOY
She is afraid.
AILI laughs once — sharp.
AILI
I’m not afraid of you.
I’m afraid of them believing you.
The room goes still.
NYARMA steps forward for the first time.
NYARMA
In winter, the Wendol took bodies.
In spring, these men will take names.
A hush.
Roukkа looks at the Envoy, then away.
ROUKKA
The treaty stands.
AILI’s face changes — not anger.
Decision.
AILI
Then I won’t.
She turns and walks out.
No one stops her.
But everyone watches.
CUT TO:
15. EXT. COAST RIDGE — NIGHT
Wind. Stars.
AILI stands alone. NYARMA approaches.
NYARMA
You just became a problem.
AILI
I was born one.
NYARMA sits beside her, slow.
NYARMA
They will come for you.
AILI
They can try.
A beat.
NYARMA
You burned a myth once.
Now you’ll burn a system?
AILI looks down at the harbor lights — southern campfires.
AILI
I won’t burn it.
I’ll starve it.
NYARMA’s eyes gleam.
NYARMA
Then you’ll need people.
AILI nods.
AILI
I know.
CUT TO:
16. INT. SMALL HUT — NIGHT
AILI meets with SALLA and three others — fishermen, a young mother, an old boatman.
No fire. Whispered voices.
AILI lays out a simple plan on the floor with pebbles.
AILI
They’re counting us.
We stop being countable.
BOATMAN
We can’t fight mercenaries.
AILI
We don’t.
We move food.
We move people.
We move truth.
Salla looks terrified.
SALLA
And if they punish us?
AILI looks at the mother holding a sleeping child.
AILI
They will punish us anyway.
The question is: for what?
A long silence.
The old boatman nods.
BOATMAN
Tell us where to put the fish.
CUT TO:
17. EXT. STOREHOUSE — NIGHT
Quiet.
Two mercenaries stand guard, bored.
Inside — barrels stacked, stamped with seals.
A small SHADOW moves near the back — a child slipping between walls.
A hand reaches through a crack, pulls out a plug.
Fish oil drips.
A scent line.
Outside, a dog sniffs, confused.
The child disappears.
CUT TO:
18. EXT. SOUTHERN CAMP — DAWN
The Envoy wakes to shouting.
A clerk runs in.
CLERK
Stores spoiled.
Barrels emptied.
Seals intact.
The Envoy’s eyes narrow.
ENVOY
Clever.
He looks out toward the village.
ENVOY (CONT’D)
She’s teaching them.
The Mercenary Captain enters, grim.
MERCENARY CAPTAIN
Want her arrested?
The Envoy considers.
ENVOY
Not yet.
First we make her unpopular.
He turns back to his map.
ENVOY (CONT’D)
Raise quotas.
Blame the losses.
Call it sabotage.
The Captain smiles.
MERCENARY CAPTAIN
That will hurt children.
The Envoy doesn’t look up.
ENVOY
Children are persuasive.
CUT TO BLACK.
FADE IN:
19. EXT. VILLAGE — DAY
The market is thinner now.
Less fish. Smaller baskets. Eyes on the ground.
A PRIEST reads from a wooden tablet as MERCENARIES stand behind him.
PRIEST
Due to recent sabotage,
quotas are increased.
Noncompliance is refusal of order.
A murmur—fear, anger, hunger.
A MAN steps forward.
MAN
We can’t meet this.
The Mercenary Captain nods once.
Two guards seize the man.
MAN (CONT’D)
I have children—
The Captain cuts him off with a gesture.
MERCENARY CAPTAIN
Then you should have thought of them
before disorder.
The man is dragged away.
AILI watches from the edge of the crowd.
NYARMA stands beside her, unreadable.
AILI
This is how it starts.
NYARMA
This is how it always starts.
CUT TO:
20. INT. HOLDING SHED — NIGHT
Dark. Damp. A dozen VILLAGERS sit bound.
The man from the market is among them, shaking.
A guard opens the door. Light spills in.
GUARD
Two of you.
The man and a WOMAN are pulled to their feet.
The door SLAMS.
Inside, silence.
VILLAGER
They won’t kill us.
No one answers.
CUT TO:
21. EXT. TREE LINE — NIGHT
Torchlight.
The two prisoners are marched through snow.
Ahead: a crude WENDOL MASK nailed to a tree.
A DRUM lies beneath it.
The woman stares.
WOMAN
That’s not—
The Mercenary Captain steps forward.
MERCENARY CAPTAIN
Say nothing.
He gestures.
A guard STRIKES the drum once.
THUMP.
From the shadows, MASKED FIGURES emerge.
Not Wendol.
Mercenaries wearing skins.
The prisoners realize too late.
MAN
Please—
A blade flashes.
CUT TO BLACK.
---
22. EXT. VILLAGE — MORNING
Bodies found at the forest edge.
Mutilated. Ritualized.
The drum left behind.
The Envoy surveys the scene, grave.
Villagers gather—horrified.
ENVOY
The Wendol have returned.
Gasps. Whispers. Old terror rising.
AILI pushes forward.
AILI
This is a lie.
The Envoy turns to her gently.
ENVOY
You always say that.
And people keep dying.
NYARMA kneels by a body.
She touches the wound. Smells the blood.
Her face hardens.
NYARMA
Iron blade.
Southern cut.
The Mercenary Captain steps closer.
MERCENARY CAPTAIN
Careful.
NYARMA
You want us afraid.
Not informed.
The Envoy raises a calming hand.
ENVOY
Enough.
We’ll increase patrols.
For everyone’s safety.
He looks directly at AILI.
ENVOY (CONT’D)
Including yours.
CUT TO:
23. INT. LONGHOUSE — DAY
The village fractures.
Some shout for protection.
Others look at AILI with doubt.
ROUKKA
We can’t deny what we saw!
AILI
You saw a story placed on bodies.
ROUKKA
You weren’t there.
AILI
I was.
Silence.
A WOMAN speaks—quiet, broken.
WOMAN
My sister is dead.
I don’t care who did it.
I want it to stop.
AILI absorbs that.
AILI
It stops when we stop believing them.
Roukkа shakes his head.
ROUKKA
You’re tearing us apart.
AILI
No.
They are.
Roukkа turns away.
ROUKKA
I’m authorizing the patrols.
The Mercenaries step forward.
AILI realizes she has lost the room.
CUT TO:
24. EXT. SHORE — DUSK
AILI meets ISAAC quietly near moored boats.
ISAAC
You’re losing.
AILI
I know.
ISAAC
Leave.
While you still can.
AILI looks at him.
AILI
And do what?
Become a story?
ISAAC lowers his voice.
ISAAC
I signed the transport orders.
AILI
For who?
ISAAC hesitates.
ISAAC
Dissidents.
“For their protection.”
AILI’s eyes harden.
AILI
Including me.
ISAAC nods once.
ISAAC
I tried to delay it.
AILI
You helped them.
ISAAC flinches.
ISAAC
I thought I could soften it.
AILI
You can’t soften teeth.
She turns to leave.
ISAAC
Aili—
AILI
Decide who you are.
CUT TO:
25. INT. ISAAC’S TENT — NIGHT
Isaac sits alone, staring at ledgers.
Names. Numbers. Destinations.
He takes a knife.
Hesitates.
Then scratches out a column.
Destinations erased.
He exhales, shaking.
CUT TO:
26. EXT. DOCKS — NIGHT
AILI and NYARMA load a small boat silently.
Others join—families, bundles, children.
No torches.
No words.
NYARMA
Once we go,
we don’t come back.
AILI
We were never meant to.
They push off.
From the ridge above, MERCENARIES watch.
The Mercenary Captain turns to a runner.
MERCENARY CAPTAIN
Let them go.
RUNNER
The Envoy—
MERCENARY CAPTAIN
Let fear chase them.
It’s cheaper.
CUT TO:
27. EXT. FOREST — DAWN
The displaced move inland.
Cold. Exhausted.
A child looks back toward the coast.
CHILD
Are the Wendol there?
AILI kneels.
AILI
No.
CHILD
Then why did we leave?
AILI searches for an answer.
NYARMA answers instead.
NYARMA
Because monsters don’t always
wear masks.
The group moves on.
CUT TO:
28. INT. SOUTHERN ENVOY’S TENT — DAY
The Envoy listens to reports.
CLERK
Opposition scattered.
Routes secured.
ENVOY
Excellent.
CLERK
What of Aili?
The Envoy smiles thinly.
ENVOY
Exile turns heroes into rumors.
He rolls up the map.
ENVOY (CONT’D)
And rumors don’t vote.
CUT TO:
29. EXT. COAST — SUNSET
Southern banners wave over empty ground.
Warehouses full.
Docks quiet.
The Envoy stands alone.
The Mercenary Captain approaches.
MERCENARY CAPTAIN
It’s done.
ENVOY
Good.
A beat.
MERCENARY CAPTAIN
And if she comes back?
The Envoy looks at the horizon.
ENVOY
Then she’ll be a myth.
And myths are easy to kill.
CUT TO BLACK.
---
30. EXT. INLAND RIDGE — NIGHT
AILI’s group camps without fire.
Scattered. Silent.
AILI stands watch.
NYARMA joins her.
NYARMA
You lost.
AILI
No.
She looks out at the dark.
AILI (CONT’D)
I refused to win their way.
NYARMA nods.
NYARMA
Then this will outlast them.
A distant DRUM echoes faintly.
Not real.
Memory.
AILI closes her eyes.
AILI
That’s the danger.
Even when we escape—
the story follows.
FADE OUT.
TITLE CARD:
**END OF FILM II**
THE LAW OF TEETH
Dialogue-Enriched Screenplay
1. EXT. KVEN COAST — DAY
New ships. Southern colors. Too clean.
AILI watches from a ridge. NYARMA carves driftwood beside her.
Below, the SOUTHERN SHIP beaches.
MERCENARIES step off in formation.
2. EXT. SHORELINE — CONTINUOUS
THE ENVOY approaches, smiling with professional warmth.
A CLERK unfurls parchment.
The Envoy smiles—gentle, sharp.
Nyarma stops carving.
3. INT. LONGHOUSE — NIGHT
Firelight. Maps. Southern ink on northern wood.
Murmurs.
8. EXT. TREE LINE — NIGHT
Two PRISONERS marched.
A WENDOL MASK nailed to a tree.
The DRUM beneath it.
THUMP.
Mercenaries in skins emerge.
Steel flashes.
CUT TO BLACK.
9. EXT. FOREST EDGE — MORNING
Bodies displayed.
She kneels, examines a wound.
10. INT. LONGHOUSE — DAY
The village fractures.
ROUKKA addresses the room.
The room murmurs—uncertain.
11. EXT. SHORE — DUSK
Isaac and Aili speak quietly.
12. INT. ENVOY’S TENT — NIGHT
13. EXT. VILLAGE — DAY
Quotas announced.
He is taken.
Aili watches—fury held in check.
14. INT. SMALL HUT — NIGHT
Aili with families.
Silence.
Nods.
15. EXT. STOREHOUSE — NIGHT
Children loosen barrel plugs.
Fish oil spills.
Seals intact.
16. INT. ENVOY’S TENT — DAWN
The Envoy smiles faintly.
17. EXT. SOUTHERN CAMP — DAWN
Names read.
Salla looks at Aili.
Aili nods.
18. INT. ISAAC’S TENT — MORNING
Isaac looks sick.
19. EXT. FISHING SHORE — NIGHT
Silent evacuation.
A child cries.
A horn sounds.
Stillness.
Boats slip away.
20. INT. ENVOY’S TENT — NIGHT
21. EXT. INLAND MARSH — DAWN
Refugees wade through water.
22. INT. ISAAC’S TENT — DAY
Isaac burns a ledger page.
23. EXT. COAST RIDGE — DAY
Warehouses full.
No villagers.
24. EXT. FOREST CLEARING — NIGHT
Aili and Nyarma.
25. INT. ADMIN HALL — DAY
Applause.
Isaac does not clap.
26. EXT. NORTHERN COAST — SUNSET
Banners snap.
Empty land.
A ledger page blows away.
27. EXT. HIDDEN COVE — DAWN
Refugees arrive.
Aili kneels.
Sunrise.
THE LAW OF TEETH
ACT II — Dialogue Enriched
8. EXT. TREE LINE — NIGHT
Snow drifts through torchlight.
TWO PRISONERS are marched forward, hands bound.
Ahead: a WENDOL MASK nailed to a pine. Beneath it, a DRUM half-buried in snow.
The PRISONERS stop.
A MERCENARY slams the butt of his spear into the man’s ribs.
The Mercenary Captain steps forward, calm.
He nods.
A guard strikes the drum.
THUMP.
From the darkness, FIGURES emerge wearing skins and crude masks.
Steel flashes.
The prisoners do not scream long.
Snow absorbs everything.
CUT TO BLACK.
9. EXT. FOREST EDGE — MORNING
Bodies laid out deliberately.
Ritualized. Displayed.
Villagers gather, horrified.
The ENVOY stands among them, solemn.
The Envoy turns, genuinely regretful.
NYARMA kneels, examining a wound.
The crowd murmurs.
The Envoy raises a hand.
He looks at Aili.
10. INT. LONGHOUSE — DAY
Tension fractures the room.
ROUKKA addresses the gathering.
Voices rise.
Aili absorbs this.
Silence.
The Mercenary Captain watches, amused.
11. EXT. SHORE — DUSK
Wind off the water.
Isaac and Aili stand apart from the village.
Isaac exhales.
Isaac cannot answer.
12. INT. ENVOY’S TENT — NIGHT
Warm. Orderly.
The Envoy pours wine.
The Envoy studies the map.
The Captain smiles.
13. EXT. VILLAGE — DAY
A CLERK reads new quotas.
A MAN steps forward, shaking.
The man is seized.
AILI steps forward.
The crowd looks away.
14. INT. SMALL HUT — NIGHT
Low light. Close bodies.
Families listen to Aili.
Silence.
Slow nods.
15. EXT. STOREHOUSE — NIGHT
Children work silently.
One hesitates.
Oil leaks.
Barrels rot.
Seals untouched.
16. INT. ENVOY’S TENT — DAWN
The Envoy drinks.
17. EXT. VILLAGE — DAY
Whispers follow Aili now.
Some avoid her.
A woman hisses.
Aili stops.
The woman turns away.
18. EXT. RIDGE ABOVE COAST — NIGHT
Aili and Nyarma watch the harbor lights.
Aili nods.
They watch the sea.
CUT TO ACT III.
THE LAW OF TEETH
ACT III — Dialogue Enriched
19. EXT. SOUTHERN CAMP — DAWN
Cold light. Wagons aligned with brutal neatness.
CLERKS read from tablets. MERCENARIES stand ready.
SALLA steps forward, clutching her youngest.
Her eyes search the crowd.
AILI watches from the edge, half-hidden.
Their eyes meet.
Aili gives a small, steady nod.
Salla swallows and steps out of line.
She keeps moving.
The Mercenary hesitates—then lets her pass.
AILI exhales slowly.
20. INT. ISAAC’S TENT — MORNING
Ledgers stacked neatly.
ISAAC studies transport lists.
The ENVOY enters without knocking.
Isaac looks up.
Isaac clenches his jaw.
Isaac looks down at the names.
The Envoy turns to leave.
21. EXT. FISHING SHORE — NIGHT
Low tide. Black water.
Boats are pulled down quietly.
Families move with practiced silence.
NYARMA directs with gestures.
A CHILD stumbles, begins to cry.
The mother freezes.
AILI kneels.
The child presses his face into her shoulder.
A distant HORN sounds from the southern camp.
Everyone freezes.
The horn fades.
Boats push off one by one, swallowed by darkness.
22. EXT. SOUTHERN CAMP — NIGHT
Alarmed murmurs.
A CLERK runs to the MERCENARY CAPTAIN.
The Captain scans the dark shore.
He turns sharply.
23. INT. ENVOY’S TENT — NIGHT
The Envoy listens calmly.
The Envoy considers the map.
A beat.
24. EXT. INLAND MARSH — DAWN
Mist coils around reeds.
The displaced wade through cold water.
Children carried high.
An OLD MAN stumbles.
NYARMA steadies him.
AILI scans the horizon.
Murmurs of fear.
Groups peel away, dissolving into landscape.
25. INT. ISAAC’S TENT — DAY
Isaac stares at ledgers.
Names. Numbers. Destinations.
He tears out a page.
Hesitates.
Then burns it.
Smoke curls upward.
26. EXT. COAST RIDGE — DAY
The ENVOY and MERCENARY CAPTAIN overlook the harbor.
Warehouses full.
No villagers.
The Envoy turns away.
27. INT. ADMINISTRATION HALL — DAY
Formal proclamation.
Applause echoes.
ISAAC stands at the back.
He does not clap.
28. EXT. FOREST CLEARING — NIGHT
AILI’s group camps without fire.
Scattered silhouettes.
NYARMA sits beside Aili.
Nyarma studies her.
29. EXT. NORTHERN COAST — SUNSET
Southern banners snap in the wind.
Warehouses locked.
No smoke.
No voices.
A single LEDGER PAGE slips loose.
Blown inland.
30. EXT. HIDDEN INLAND COVE — DAWN
Small boats arrive quietly.
Children disembark, shivering.
One looks back toward the coast.
AILI kneels, eye level.
The sun crests the ridge.
Light spills across open land.
FADE IN:
FILM III — ACT I
EATERS OF HISTORY
1. EXT. SILK ROAD OUTSKIRTS — DAY
Wind over sand. Bells on camels. Heat haze.
A CARAVAN snakes across the horizon.
At its center rides YUSUF IBN RASHID (early 30s), Persian scholar, alert eyes, ink-stained fingers.
He writes while riding.
GUIDE
You should not write while moving.
You’ll lose letters.
YUSUF
Letters lost in motion
tell more truth than letters at rest.
The Guide squints at him.
GUIDE
You scholars love danger
as long as it’s theoretical.
Yusuf smiles faintly.
CUT TO:
2. EXT. CARAVAN FIRE — NIGHT
The caravan rests.
Men eat. Stories loosen tongues.
A TRADER gestures animatedly.
TRADER
In the far north—
past ice and trees—
there are people who eat the dead.
Others nod eagerly.
TRADER #2
Not the dead.
The enemy.
They believe strength passes through teeth.
Yusuf looks up, intrigued.
YUSUF
You have seen this?
TRADER
No.
But my cousin’s wife heard it from a man
who lost two fingers.
Laughter.
Yusuf writes anyway.
YUSUF (V.O.)
“North of the forests,
a people whose hunger
blurs the line between ritual and survival…”
He pauses. Rewrites.
YUSUF (V.O.)
“Monsters.”
CUT TO:
3. EXT. CASPIAN SHORE — DAY
Cold replaces heat.
The caravan disperses.
Yusuf boards a SMALL SHIP heading north.
The CAPTAIN eyes him.
CAPTAIN
You won’t like what you find.
YUSUF
I rarely do.
CUT TO:
4. EXT. NORTHERN TRADING POST — DAY
Rough timber. Smoke. Snow patches.
Yusuf steps onto frozen ground.
A MARKET buzzes with traders from many lands.
He listens.
NORSE TRADER
They drum at night.
So the fear arrives before the knives.
SLAV TRADER
They wear beasts.
Bears. Wolves.
FINNISH TRADER
They were people once.
Yusuf turns sharply.
YUSUF
Once?
The trader shrugs.
FINNISH TRADER
Stories change when winters stack up.
CUT TO:
5. INT. TRADING POST LONGHOUSE — NIGHT
Yusuf sits with OLD KVEN MEN and WOMEN.
Firelight flickers across faces carved by time.
YUSUF
Tell me of the Wendol.
An OLD WOMAN snorts.
OLD WOMAN
Which ones?
Yusuf blinks.
YUSUF
There is more than one?
The old woman exchanges looks with others.
OLD WOMAN
There was hunger.
There were masks.
There were lies.
Pick which you want.
Yusuf hesitates—then writes.
YUSUF
All of them.
The old woman studies him.
OLD WOMAN
That’s how stories die.
CUT TO:
6. EXT. FOREST EDGE — DAY
Yusuf walks with a YOUNG GUIDE.
The forest looms—old, dense.
GUIDE
People don’t go far in.
Not anymore.
YUSUF
Because of the Wendol?
The Guide shakes his head.
GUIDE
Because of memories.
CUT TO:
7. EXT. ABANDONED SETTLEMENT — DAY
Collapsed huts. Moss-covered posts.
Yusuf kneels, touches a carved spiral on a rotting beam.
YUSUF
This mark—
what does it mean?
The Guide shrugs.
GUIDE
Warning.
Door.
Curse.
Depends who’s hungry.
Yusuf sketches it carefully.
CUT TO:
8. INT. TEMPORARY SHELTER — NIGHT
Yusuf studies his notes.
Contradictions everywhere.
- *They ate people.*
- *They were driven north.*
- *They were us.*
- *They were beasts.*
He crosses out lines.
Writes new ones.
YUSUF (V.O.)
“They were not men,
but something formed by winter itself…”
He stops.
His hand trembles slightly.
CUT TO:
9. EXT. WENDOL DESCENDANT CAMP — NIGHT
Firelight.
A SMALL GROUP—thin, scarred, human—eat quietly.
Yusuf watches from a distance, unseen.
An ELDER speaks softly to CHILDREN.
ELDER
Once we wore masks
so others would not follow.
CHILD
Did it work?
ELDER
Yes.
Too well.
Yusuf listens—stricken.
CUT TO:
10. INT. YUSUF’S TENT — NIGHT
Yusuf cannot sleep.
He rewrites.
Simplifies.
Erases names.
YUSUF (V.O.)
“They are called Wendol.
They dwell beyond law.
They consume the dead
and wear the skins of beasts…”
He stops.
Stares at the page.
YUSUF
Forgive me.
CUT TO:
11. EXT. NORTHERN POST — DAWN
Yusuf prepares to leave.
The OLD WOMAN from before watches him pack.
OLD WOMAN
Did you learn something?
Yusuf hesitates.
YUSUF
I learned too much.
OLD WOMAN
And what will you tell?
Yusuf looks north—forest, fog, silence.
YUSUF
Something people will remember.
The old woman sighs.
OLD WOMAN
Then you didn’t listen.
CUT TO:
12. EXT. RIVER — DAY
Yusuf travels south again.
His manuscript grows thicker.
Cleaner.
More terrifying.
As he writes, his words OVERLAY the landscape:
YUSUF (V.O.)
“They drum so fear arrives before death.
They eat the flesh of enemies.
They are not men as we know them…”
The river flows on, indifferent.
CUT TO:
13. INT. SCRIBAL HALL — YEARS LATER — DAY
Yusuf, older now, reads aloud.
MEN listen, rapt.
YUSUF
…and thus, no peace can be made with them.
Applause.
Admiration.
Yusuf bows slightly.
But his eyes betray regret.
CUT TO:
14. INT. COPYING ROOM — NIGHT
SCRIBES copy Yusuf’s text.
Mistakes creep in.
One adds a phrase.
SCRIBE
This part is unclear.
MASTER SCRIBE
Then make it clearer.
He adds:
MASTER SCRIBE (CONT’D)
“They are demons.”
CUT TO:
15. EXT. NORTHERN SEA — DAWN
Mist rolls over dark water.
LONGSHIPS emerge—silent, purposeful.
A NORSE VOICE (V.O.), curious, confident:
VOICE
They call them Wendol.
The ships cut through fog.
DRUMS begin—real this time.
Not ritual.
Oars.
THUMP. THUMP. THUMP.
CUT TO BLACK.
END OF ACT I.
FADE IN:
FILM III — ACT II
THE MYTH HARDENS
16. INT. SCRIBAL HALL — DAY
Light through lattice windows.
YUSUF, now respected, sits before a semicircle of OFFICIALS, CLERICS, and MERCHANT PATRONS.
His manuscript lies open.
PATRON
Your account spreads quickly.
It clarifies the north.
YUSUF
Clarifies—or simplifies?
A cleric smiles thinly.
CLERIC
People don’t travel for nuance.
A murmur of approval.
OFFICIAL
The empire needs clean edges.
Monsters make borders understandable.
Yusuf absorbs that.
CUT TO:
17. INT. YUSUF’S STUDY — NIGHT
Stacks of copies. Notes pinned with string.
Yusuf rereads an early draft—messy, humane.
He compares it to the current version—tight, brutal.
He crosses out a paragraph about exile and famine.
Keeps the line about cannibalism.
His hand pauses.
He does not undo it.
CUT TO:
18. EXT. MARKET SQUARE — DAY
A PUBLIC READING.
Yusuf stands on a small platform.
A CROWD gathers—fascinated.
YUSUF
They wear the skins of beasts
so they may abandon mercy.
Gasps.
YUSUF (CONT’D)
They eat the fallen
so fear survives even victory.
The crowd leans in.
A CHILD stares—terrified, thrilled.
Yusuf notices.
For a heartbeat, he falters.
Then continues.
CUT TO:
19. INT. MERCHANT COUNCIL — NIGHT
Maps on a table.
Routes marked red—AVOID.
MERCHANT
We reroute south.
No reason to risk men to myths.
CAPTAIN
My sailors swear they heard drums.
MERCHANT
Good.
Fear keeps them sober.
Yusuf listens from the side.
YUSUF
You know the drums are oars.
The Merchant smiles.
MERCHANT
Does it matter?
Yusuf has no answer.
CUT TO:
20. EXT. NORTHERN BORDER TOWN — DAY
A fortified outpost.
A BANNER flaps—warning sign with crude drawings:
BONES. MASKS. TEETH.
A COMMANDER addresses SOLDIERS.
COMMANDER
No prisoners.
No parley.
These are not men.
Yusuf watches, sickened.
CUT TO:
21. INT. YUSUF’S TENT — NIGHT
Yusuf writes a letter.
Stops.
Tears it up.
Starts another.
YUSUF (V.O.)
“I fear my words have become tools.”
He stops again.
Burns the page.
Keeps the book.
CUT TO:
22. EXT. FOREST CLEARING — NIGHT
WENDOL DESCENDANTS flee—families, bundles.
Shouts behind them.
ARMED MEN approach with torches.
SOLDIER
By order of the route law!
A woman stumbles.
A man turns to help—
An arrow drops him.
The others scatter.
From a distance, YUSUF watches—frozen.
He does not intervene.
CUT TO:
23. INT. YUSUF’S STUDY — LATE NIGHT
Yusuf shakes, alone.
He opens his manuscript.
Adds a marginal note—small, almost invisible:
YUSUF (V.O.)
“Some say these stories were once men.”
He closes the book.
The note is buried.
CUT TO:
24. INT. SCRIBE WORKROOM — DAY
A YOUNG SCRIBE copies Yusuf’s work.
He omits the marginal note.
YOUNG SCRIBE
It slows the pace.
The MASTER SCRIBE nods.
MASTER SCRIBE
Fear should move quickly.
CUT TO:
25. EXT. TRAVELING THEATER — NIGHT
A STORYTELLER performs for a crowd.
He wears a crude BEAR MASK.
STORYTELLER
They ate the brave first!
The crowd roars.
Coins are thrown.
Yusuf watches from the edge—anonymous.
The Storyteller bows.
STORYTELLER (CONT’D)
Monsters!
The word lands like a hammer.
CUT TO:
26. INT. SCHOLAR’S CHAMBER — NIGHT
Yusuf packs.
He hesitates over his earliest notes.
Truthful. Confused. Human.
He leaves them behind.
Takes only the finished manuscript.
CUT TO:
27. EXT. ROAD SOUTH — DAWN
Yusuf rides away.
Behind him, the north recedes into mist.
YUSUF (V.O.)
“History remembers what travels well.”
CUT TO:
28. INT. COURT HALL — YEARS LATER — DAY
Older now, YUSUF reads before NOBLES.
The room is grand.
YUSUF
…and thus they are enemies of all law.
Applause.
The NOBLES nod—satisfied.
Yusuf bows.
His face is hollow.
CUT TO:
29. EXT. NORTHERN SHORE — SAME
A contrasting image:
Children play by the water—descendants of Kven and Wendol alike.
They laugh.
No masks.
No drums.
The world Yusuf wrote about no longer exists.
CUT TO:
30. INT. LIBRARY — NIGHT
Yusuf wanders rows of shelves.
He finds his work—copied, titled, embellished.
He opens to a random page.
YUSUF (V.O.)
“They are demons.”
He closes the book.
Places it back carefully.
YUSUF
(whisper)
I fed them well.
FADE OUT.
TITLE CARD:
**ACT II — END**
EATERS OF HISTORY
Film III – Act III
(Polished screenplay draft)
31. INT. LIBRARY — NIGHT
Endless shelves. Oil lamps gutter softly.
YUSUF IBN RASHID (50s), grey-bearded, scholarly robes worn thin, stands alone.
He removes a leather-bound book from the shelf.
His name is embossed in gold.
He opens it.
Illustrations fill the pages:
BEAR-MEN.
DRUMS.
TEETH.
BODIES IN PIECES.
Yusuf’s eyes flicker.
He turns the page.
Yusuf closes the book carefully.
The library does not answer.
32. INT. SCRIBE’S CHAMBER — DAY
Bright daylight. Fresh parchment.
A YOUNG SCRIBE copies Yusuf’s text.
A SUPERVISOR watches over his shoulder.
The Scribe hesitates, then SCRAPES THE WORDS AWAY.
33. EXT. BORDER FORTRESS — DAY
Stone walls. Snow beyond.
ARMORED SOLDIERS assemble.
A COMMANDER addresses them.
The soldiers nod.
A CART passes behind them.
Inside: BODIES.
Yusuf watches from horseback at a distance.
He turns away.
34. EXT. FOREST CLEARING — NIGHT
Torches flare.
A SMALL CAMP is overrun.
WENDOL DESCENDANTS flee into trees.
A WOMAN falls, shielding a CHILD.
A SOLDIER hesitates, blade raised.
The Soldier strikes.
The child screams.
Yusuf watches from the shadows, frozen.
35. INT. YUSUF’S LODGING — NIGHT
A small room.
Yusuf scrubs his hands in a basin.
Again.
Again.
His reflection trembles in the water.
He grips the basin’s edge.
36. EXT. NORTHERN SHORE — DAWN
Mist lifts off cold water.
SURVIVORS — mixed blood, mixed memory — load small boats.
An OLD WOMAN hums softly. Not a song. Just breath.
A CHILD looks back toward the forest.
The Old Woman considers.
The boats push off.
37. INT. GREAT HALL — DAY
A formal chamber.
NOBLES, CLERICS, and OFFICIALS sit in judgment.
Yusuf stands before them, composed, hollow.
The hall erupts in approval.
Yusuf bows.
This version is now law.
38. INT. YUSUF’S STUDY — NIGHT
Firelight.
Yusuf unwraps a hidden bundle:
HIS ORIGINAL NOTES.
Messy. Contradictory. Human.
He reads a line written decades earlier.
Yusuf closes his eyes.
He places the papers into the fire.
They burn.
Smoke rises.
39. EXT. COASTAL MONASTERY — DAY
Years later.
Yusuf, now OLD, walks slowly with a cane.
A YOUNG STUDENT walks beside him.
Yusuf stops.
Looks out to sea.
They walk on.
40. EXT. NORTHERN SEA — DAWN
Fog.
The water moves slowly.
From the mist emerge LONGSHIPS.
Warriors stand at the prow.
A cultured, curious VOICE carries over the image.
41. EXT. COASTLINE — CONTINUOUS
The ships approach shore.
Shields gleam.
No fear. Only expectation.
The ships cut through the water.
The sound is rhythmic.
THUMP.
THUMP.
Oars.
FINAL TITLE CARD
EATERS OF HISTORY
The story was true.
The monster was not.
DIRECT PRELUDE TO
THE 13TH WARRIOR
THE NORTHERN SAGA
A Trilogy Prequel to The 13th Warrior
1. FRANCHISE OVERVIEW
Logline (Trilogy)
Across three generations, the terror of the Wendol transforms from survival myth, to political weapon, to historical legend, revealing how humans manufacture monsters—and how those monsters outlive the truth.
Core Rule (never broken)
-
No supernatural confirmation
-
Everything terrifying is human, strategic, or remembered wrong
-
Myth is a technology
2. FILM I — THE WENDOL WINTER
Status
Story-complete. Thematic foundation.
Runtime Target
110–120 minutes
Genre
Historical survival horror
Structural Lock
-
Act I: Myth as terror
-
Act II: Myth as weapon
-
Act III: Myth as choice
Core Characters
-
AILI — pragmatic scout → myth-breaker
-
NYARMA — trauma witness → truth-keeper
-
ISAAC — outsider → translator of systems
-
WENDOL MATRIARCH — hunger strategist
Polished Anchor Sequence (example)
✔ This film ends with survival, not victory
✔ Wendol disperse; fear remains
3. FILM II — THE LAW OF TEETH
Status
Screenplay drafted through full Act II, structured through Act III
Runtime Target
115 minutes
Genre
Political thriller / colonial war drama
Thematic Shift
Monsters → Bureaucracy
Teeth → Paper
Hunger → Policy
ACT I (Polished)
ACT II (Polished Core Sequences)
False-Flag Wendol Massacre
Public Blame
ACT III (Structured, ready for full dialogue pass)
Major Beats
-
Deportations begin (“protection transports”)
-
Isaac alters records, saves some routes
-
Aili evacuates the population deliberately
-
Empire “wins” an empty land
Final Image
4. FILM III — EATERS OF HISTORY
Status
Fully screenplay-polished (Acts I–III)
Runtime Target
105 minutes
Genre
Epic myth-history crossover
Function
Transforms lived events into The 13th Warrior’s legend
ACT I — Story Collection
✔ Scholar hears contradictions
✔ Truth is messy, slow
ACT II — Myth Hardening
✔ Fear travels better than nuance
✔ Stories become policy
ACT III — Birth of the Monster
✔ (Already polished and delivered)
Final Bridge (Locked)
5. CONTINUITY & MOTIF GUIDE
Sound
-
Drums → fear
-
Silence → control
-
Oars → inevitability
Visual Motifs
-
Masks → identity as weapon
-
Ledgers → violence without blood
-
Fire → myth transformation
Language Drift
| Film | Language |
|---|
| I | concrete, physical |
| II | legal, abstract |
| III | poetic, dehumanized |
6. EXPANSION NOTES (Next Draft Instructions)
Page Targets
-
Film I: 110–115 pages (mostly done)
-
Film II: 115–120 pages (needs Act III dialogue pass)
-
Film III: 100–105 pages (polished)
Final Note (Why this package works)
-
No retcons
-
Honors Crichton’s anthropological intent
-
Makes The 13th Warrior inevitable, not redundant
-
Turns myth itself into the antagonist
Below is an actor-specific polish pass focused only on AILI, THE ENVOY, and ISAAC.
This is not a rewrite of the screenplay structure—it is a performance-driven dialogue refinement designed for actors, directors, and table reads.
Goals of this pass
-
Sharpen each character’s distinct verbal logic
-
Give actors playable subtext (status, tactics, fear)
-
Maintain pacing and tone
-
Clarify how each character wins or loses every conversation
ACTOR-SPECIFIC POLISH PASS
FILM II — THE LAW OF TEETH
AILI — Resistance Without Rhetoric
Core acting note:
Aili never argues to persuade power. She speaks to witness, not to win.
Her lines are short, grounded, and observational. When she speaks longer, it’s because she has decided to lead, not plead.
AILI — Shoreline Confrontation (Act I)
Replace Aili’s dialogue with:
Actor note:
Don’t play defiance. Play assessment. Aili is measuring danger, not posturing.
AILI — Longhouse Debate (Act II)
Actor note:
This is not anger—it’s disappointment. Let the silence after “noticing” do the work.
AILI — Small Hut Planning Scene
Actor note:
This is the moment Aili becomes a strategist, not a rebel. Calm is crucial.
AILI — Final Line to the Child (Act III)
Actor note:
Say it like a fact, not a victory. This line defines the trilogy.
THE ENVOY — Civilized Violence
Core acting note:
The Envoy never raises his voice. He believes history agrees with him.
Every line should sound reasonable, even when monstrous.
ENVOY — Longhouse Introduction (Act I)
Actor note:
This is not a threat. It’s a diagnosis. Treat Aili like a problematic variable.
ENVOY — After the False-Flag Massacre (Act II)
Actor note:
Say “certainty” like a benefit, not a cost.
ENVOY — Strategy with Mercenary Captain
Actor note:
This is where the Envoy is most dangerous. Absolute moral calm.
ENVOY — Victory Without People (Act III)
Actor note:
A flicker of something human here—confusion, not regret.
ISAAC — The Man Who Counts
Core acting note:
Isaac speaks like someone trained to translate systems.
His conflict is not courage vs fear—but usefulness vs responsibility.
ISAAC — Early Debate with Aili (Act I)
Actor note:
This is self-justification, not logic. Play the crack under confidence.
ISAAC — Transport Orders (Act II)
Actor note:
Shame, not defensiveness. Isaac knows he’s already crossed a line.
ISAAC — Confrontation with the Envoy (Act III)
Actor note:
This is Isaac’s moral snap—not loud, but irreversible.
ISAAC — Burning the Ledger
Actor note:
This is his redemption. No triumph—only clarity.
SUMMARY FOR CAST & DIRECTOR
AILI
ENVOY
ISAAC
Below is a unified dialogue-voice pass for the entire trilogy, followed by inner monologues for the core characters across all three films.
This is a voice bible + interior performance text used by:
It ensures that Film I, II, and III feel like one continuous moral argument spoken by different mouths across time.
THE NORTHERN SAGA
Unified Dialogue Voice & Inner Monologue Bible
I. THE UNIFIED VOICE RULES (ALL THREE FILMS)
Across all films, dialogue follows four global rules:
1. No one explains themselves fully
Truth is fragmented. Characters speak from position, not ideology.
2. Power speaks calmly
Fear shouts. Authority never does.
3. Metaphor comes from labor
No poetry divorced from survival:
-
fishing
-
counting
-
walking
-
hunger
-
weather
-
routes
4. Silence is dialogue
Pauses, refusals, and exits are part of speech.
II. CHARACTER VOICE UNIFICATION
AILI — The Voice of Refusal
(Film I → Film II → Absence in Film III)
Speech Pattern
-
Short declarative sentences
-
Observational, not emotional
-
Rare metaphors; when used, they are physical
Consistent Throughline
Aili never asks power to change.
She removes herself from its logic.
Sample Unified Line (works in all films):
“If it needs fear to work, it’s already broken.”
THE ENVOY — The Voice of Systemic Calm
(Film II → Echoed in Film III texts)
Speech Pattern
-
Polite, clinical, rational
-
Uses abstract nouns: order, stability, routes, efficiency
-
Never uses “I” when justifying harm
Consistent Throughline
The Envoy believes history is a ledger that balances itself.
Sample Unified Line:
“Violence is inefficient. Fear lasts longer.”
ISAAC — The Voice of Translation
(Film I → Film II → Footnote in Film III)
Speech Pattern
-
Conditional clauses (“if,” “when,” “eventually”)
-
Numbers replace people
-
Gradual loss of abstraction as guilt grows
Consistent Throughline
Isaac believes neutrality exists—until it costs him sleep.
Sample Unified Line:
“I didn’t decide anything. I only measured it.”
YUSUF (Film III) — The Voice of Memory Collapse
Speech Pattern
-
Initially curious, layered
-
Gradually simplified over time
-
Ends declarative, absolute
Consistent Throughline
Yusuf doesn’t lie.
He removes difficulty so the story can travel.
Sample Unified Line:
“People remember what moves quickly.”
III. INNER MONOLOGUES (ACTOR-ONLY TEXT)
These are never spoken.
They inform pacing, pauses, eye-lines.
AILI — INNER MONOLOGUE
(Film I → Film II)
If I shout, they win.
If I plead, they win.
If I stay, they will turn me into a mouthpiece for their fear.
The Wendol taught me something they never meant to:
Monsters are made when people stop walking away.
Leadership is not standing in front.
It is leaving firsti
If they follow me, fine.
If they don’t, they will still live.
That is enough.
THE ENVOY — INNER MONOLOGUE
(Film II only)
They think I am cruel.
That means I am effective.
Empires do not grow by convincing.
They grow by making resistance expensive.
The north was already broken.
I merely gave the fracture a name.
History will absolve me.
It always does.
No one remembers the man who kept the books balanced.
They remember the peace that followed.
ISAAC — INNER MONOLOGUE
(Film I → Film II)
I told myself numbers were neutral.
I told myself routes didn’t bleed.
If I don’t count them, someone else will.
Someone worse.
This is what I told myself.
But every night the columns follow me.
Names disguised as sums.
Children disguised as margins.
There is no neutral ground.
Only ground you haven’t named yet.
YUSUF — INNER MONOLOGUE
(Film III)
Early (Curious Scholar)
If I collect enough versions, truth will appear.
Like sediment in still water.
Middle (Pressure)
No one funds confusion.
No one repeats uncertainty.
If I simplify, they will listen.
If they listen, something will survive.
Late (Regret)
I did not invent the monster.
I fed it.
I told myself fear would protect travelers.
Instead, it devoured the people who could not leave.
The story walks now.
I cannot follow.
IV. MYTH VOICE (THE INVISIBLE CHARACTER)
By Film III, the myth itself has a voice.
It speaks in:
-
absolutes
-
repetition
-
certainty
It never asks why.
“They are not men.”
“They eat the dead.”
“No peace can be made.”
This voice replaces Aili in the world.
That is the tragedy.
V. FINAL UNIFICATION CHECK
If any line in any film:
…it breaks the voice bible.
This trilogy works because:
-
no one believes they are the villain
-
everyone believes they are being practical
-
only the audience sees the full arc
THE NORTHERN SAGA
Global Marketing & Release Strategy (Trilogy)
I. CORE MARKETING THESIS
The Trilogy Is Not About Monsters
It is about how monsters are manufactured.
Primary Hook (Audience-Facing):
“Before the legend, there was a choice.”
Internal Studio Positioning:
-
The Northman × Chernobyl × The 13th Warrior
-
Elevated historical cinema
-
Anthropological, not fantasy
-
Horror without supernatural dependence
II. AUDIENCE SEGMENTATION
1. PRIMARY AUDIENCE — Prestige Adults (25–55)
-
Fans of:
-
Motivated by:
-
intellectual depth
-
cultural conversation
-
awards credibility
Key Promise:
“This will stay with you longer than the violence.”
2. SECONDARY AUDIENCE — Genre-Literate Viewers (18–35)
-
Horror and myth fans
-
Drawn in by:
-
Retained by:
Key Promise:
“You think you know this story. You don’t.”
3. TERTIARY AUDIENCE — Literary / Academic / History Crowd
Key Promise:
“This is how legends are built.”
III. RELEASE STRATEGY (STAGGERED PRESTIGE MODEL)
Film I — THE WENDOL WINTER
Release Type:
Limited theatrical → awards corridor → platform expansion
Festival Targets:
Marketing Tone:
-
Survival horror
-
Fear-forward
-
Minimal exposition
Poster Concept:
-
Snow field
-
One drum half-buried
-
No characters visible
Taglines:
Film II — THE LAW OF TEETH
Release Type:
Wide prestige theatrical + IMAX select screens
Marketing Shift:
Poster Concept:
Taglines:
Trailer Strategy:
-
No Wendol imagery
-
Focus on:
-
counting
-
banners
-
empty land
Film III — EATERS OF HISTORY
Release Type:
Event release + awards-season anchor
Marketing Shift:
-
Mythmaking
-
Memory
-
Story as weapon
Poster Concept:
Taglines:
IV. TRAILER & TEASER STRATEGY
Rule Across All Films:
Never show the full Wendol.
They exist more in sound and absence than image.
Film I Teaser (90 seconds)
-
Black screen
-
Sound of wind
-
One drum beat
-
Flash of firelight
-
Title
Film II Trailer
-
Dialogue-driven
-
Counting, measuring, marching
-
No drums until final second
Film III Trailer
-
Scholars reading
-
Contradictory accounts
-
Final line:
“They call them Wendol…”
V. CROSS-FILM BRANDING ELEMENTS
Audio Motif
-
Drums → replaced by:
-
counting
-
scratching pens
-
oars
Typography
-
Film I: carved, organic
-
Film II: stamped, bureaucratic
-
Film III: calligraphic, decaying
Color Palette
-
I: white, black, fire-orange
-
II: grey, red seals, iron
-
III: parchment yellow, fog blue
VI. DIGITAL & CULTURAL CAMPAIGN
1. “HOW MONSTERS ARE MADE” Campaign
2. Interactive Website
3. Podcast Partnerships
VII. AWARDS STRATEGY
Primary Awards Focus
Awards Narrative
“A trilogy that deconstructs how fear becomes history.”
VIII. CONTROVERSY MANAGEMENT (IMPORTANT)
Cannibalism & Khazar Themes
Avoidance Strategy
-
No exploitation imagery in trailers
-
No simplified villain marketing
-
Emphasize systems, not cultures
IX. LONG-TAIL LEGACY PLAN
After Trilogy Completion
-
Prestige box set
-
Academic companion book
-
University screenings
-
Myth & memory panels
Cultural Goal
To make audiences rewatch The 13th Warrior
and say:
“Oh. That’s why they believed that.”
X. ONE-SENTENCE SELL (FOR EXECUTIVES)
“This trilogy turns a cult classic myth into a devastating study of how humans manufacture monsters—and why history prefers them that way.”
THE WENDOL WINTER
Film I of The Northern Saga
Written by: [Jani Apukka]
Genre: Historical Survival Horror
Tone: Grounded, anthropological, restrained
Setting: Northern Europe, late 10th century
TITLE PAGE (Final Draft format)
ACT I
1. EXT. NORTHERN FOREST — DAWN
A vast forest under snow. Pines stretch endlessly.
WIND moves through branches like breath.
A LOW DRUM BEAT — distant, irregular.
THUMP.
Silence.
THUMP.
A SMALL HUNTING PARTY moves through the trees.
KVEN TRIBESPEOPLE — layered furs, practical tools.
Among them is AILI (early 30s) — alert, observant, carrying a bow not as a symbol, but as a tool.
She stops.
Raises a hand.
The group freezes.
AILI listens.
The drum stops.
Only wind.
AILI lowers her hand.
They move on.
2. EXT. FROZEN STREAM — DAY
The party crosses a frozen stream.
ICE GROANS.
A YOUNG HUNTER laughs nervously.
Laughter — brief.
Aili kneels, studies tracks near the bank.
They are HUMAN.
Barefoot.
Too deep.
AILI
(quiet)
These aren’t ours.
The laughter dies.
3. EXT. TREE LINE — DAY
A RAVEN takes flight.
Beyond the trees —
A VILLAGE.
Smoke rises.
Normal. Calm.
But as they approach —
The SMELL hits first.
Then —
A BODY.
Torn open.
Partially eaten.
Not ritualized.
Not neat.
Just hungry.
A WOMAN drops to her knees.
AILI
No.
Aili crouches beside the corpse.
Studies bite marks.
Human.
She closes the man’s eyes.
4. EXT. VILLAGE — DUSK
The village gathers.
Fear ripples through the crowd.
The name spreads like frost.
AILI stands apart, listening.
Silence.
No one answers.
5. INT. LONGHOUSE — NIGHT
Firelight.
The ELDER speaks to the gathered villagers.
AILI watches faces.
Fear is already working.
6. EXT. VILLAGE PERIMETER — NIGHT
AILI walks alone.
She checks traps.
Listens.
From deep in the forest —
A DRUM BEATS.
THUMP.
THUMP.
Not rhythmic.
Not music.
Just… presence.
AILI does not move.
She breathes slowly.
The drum stops.
7. INT. AILI’S HUT — NIGHT
AILI sharpens her knife.
NYARMA (50s), scarred, practical, enters.
Nyarma studies her.
8. EXT. FOREST EDGE — NIGHT
Torches flicker.
A SMALL SEARCH PARTY moves cautiously.
AILI leads.
They find —
A MASK hanging from a branch.
Bone.
Leather.
Crude.
A DRUM beneath it.
The wind moves the drum skin.
No one touches it.
AILI studies it.
From somewhere unseen —
A SCREAM.
The torches waver.
CUT TO BLACK.
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