The light was rather dire, neither welcome nor radiant, but pale and unnerving as it flittered through the icy woods from above. Gaze above at the false sky, your eyes seeing the roof of Limbo itself, the bleak white untouched by clouds despite the permafrost to suggest snowfall must occur at some point. Yet, compared to the bitter cold from whence they came, the true chill of the arctic they had to venture through to arrive at this, Limbo was but a welcoming place. The cold was met with windless light, the greenery still abound by the ancient evergreens which stand tall beside the river's course. Had they not known it was indeed Limbo, perhaps they had found an ancient forest, a lost grove hidden away from mankind to grow tall enough to shade their travels through this strange land. It certainly not be the weather to break their spirits and dissuade them from their journey. No, they have each come far to earn this right, their souls bought by their gods to protect them from the twisted nature of this place. Where the powers would corrupt the unblessed mortal, demigods alone had the will to be untouched by the condemnations of each layer to poison the very essence of being. Gold was incorruptible after all, and why else would the gods demand a tribute of earthly material if it were not to craft such sacred charms to protect their champions?

The spirits cannot harm thee, only if you allow them to will they be of threat. Their bodies were incorporeal and require a host to physically work the world around them. These damned were unlike those in the deeper layers who were of flesh renewed for their sins were not only of spirit. So they shall move about, like wisps, encircling the old boat was it drifted on its own path through the cold and quiet river. Their whispered warnings certainly eerie to hear, but only to test the resolve of the Demigod who hears them. They who were sent here for they claimed no god in life, and so no god claimed them in death, they who needed no god to do work of their own nature, of their own design, forever unable to set upon the world their will. Only a host shall appease them, a husk for their torment, rage and ire, fuelled by their grim reckoning of how cruel the gods can be, or perhaps how petty and human they often are. 

Movements from below the river. A shadow, long and serpentine. The first guardian of the damned, which had been vanquished by those who came before you, long before there were no human souls in this layer the Serpent lies coiled and submerged. Its dead body runs across the river and back, the lifeless carcass preserved by the river's chill. Upon its steel-like scales, embedded deep into the reptile's thick hide, the swords and daggers, arrows and bolts of demigods and other heros who have come here seeking immortality. Some made it, some did not, yet the river only flowed one way, and turning back would require them to fight both the current and the boat's own mind as it set their mystical course through Limbo. Certainly the guardian was dead, its body cut apart into threes by some great warrior and an overwhelmingly large sword which butchered it apart. But now it is a puppet, a puppet to the more spiteful spirits in Limbo...

A crash through the waves, sending the boat back as the giant broke through the surface. Fangs ready to strike as the gaping maw hissed a forked tongue at the party, a raging monster with lifeless eyes, staring back at with the burning possession of the spirits of the dead. Behold the great serpent of limbo, called by many names, now reduced to nothing more than a socket puppet as its head and neck moved about on spiritual strings for the restless dead. It moves to attack the boat and her crew, coming down upon the longboat with wicked fangs to tear into the hull and capsize them overboard. 

Your first combat encounter heroes. The great snake attacks your boat who amongst you shall come to its defense? You must draw its attacks towards yourselves, perhaps even fight upon the land for certainly one would not want to risk damaging the only thing that can travel between the layers. To be stuck here in limbo, neither dead and alive is only a matter of waiting. Eventually, the body shall tire out, or the mind shall wish for peace. Or perhaps you shall become the king of this realm, and make a paradise of Hell? Either way, think quickly and slay the beast, strike it where it is weak, not the heart which does not beat, nor the brain which does not think...

"Your Godsssssss are weak!"