BECMI Chapter 271 – The Jotuns
That twat Jillius had obviously had some fun with the old temple of the Khirifi.
Not only was it now somehow five thousand feet higher and above the snow line, the volcano had cooled immensely and it was like it had been dormant for ten thousand years. Where fire had once shaped the lava and seared the stone, wiping away all traces of the living, now ice coated everything in transparent shells nearly a foot thick, and creatures of ice and snow, good ol’ Elemental endothermic death, inhabited the place, guarding the treasure within it from all who might want to take it.
And the Fire Jotuns definitely did.
They’d come at least once a year for the past fifteen years. Gulguz in his Surt aspect had obviously told them where to find the massive Club that would give the holder dominion over all fire giants.
Carconadyx, the Club of Contention. Domination of all Fire and possibly Frost Jotuns came with its possession, although Gulguz clearly favored the former, loving Fire like he did.
And so the Fire Jotuns were sending out their great champions, best hunters, mighty princes, ambitious kings, and appropriate entourages to secure the mighty Artifact and whelm the lesser Jotun nations for war.
Well, there was a small problem for them, and it was that I was totally aware of this place, had some Contingent Wards and Construct guards watching it, and when the Jotuns came trooping up to take the place out, I watched.
Two-thirds of the time, they’d made it to the end, including the very first time. Clearly the place was meant as a test, not a barrier or proper vault to secure the Artifact sitting inside it, and so Jillius hadn’t made it an impossible challenge for the giants, just appropriately tough and a measure of their mettle.
Over-sized frost salamanders, large white dragons, ice para-elementals, fey Winter Knights, even ice toads and winter wolves were all drawn here to serve as guards and defenders for the treasure. There were a few tricks and traps, which the giants generally powered through, and they were neither dumb nor foolhardy, completely capable of figuring out engineering problems to circumvent chasms, climb walls, break through walls and doors, and the like.
Then they made it to the throne room, and I killed them all.
The Immortals wanted a big ol’ war to establish Darkmoor as a power, or to bury it and Iberon forever. The Club was the easiest way to round up a whole lotta giants and send them on the warpath against Darkmoor and Iberon, as Gulguz would certainly be happy to do.
To do that, they had to secure the Club. I made sure they didn’t secure the Club.
Sure, sure, they came in with protections against cold and whatnot. Bully for them. Banefire, lightning, and Force energies didn’t really care, and I tore them apart before they could lay a hand on the Club.
Three times Gulguz snuck in servants to stop me, and to ‘reward’ the Club to his faithful Jotuns. I noted their presence, and instead arranged for a Darkmoor patrol team to obliterate the incoming Jotuns outside with sustained plasma fire and explosive missiles instead of bothering to stop them at the end.
That prompted a raid of Fire Titans, of all things, unleashed right at Darkmoor City. They came hoofing it in, all setting things on fire and ruin… and ran into the Bloodrose Firefighter warbots with their loads of compressed hypersulfuric acid lasers, and the Black Blade hovertanks with their Sure-Striking rail cannons.
Immunity to fire, cold, and lightning didn’t protect the Titans from being hosed down with flesh-eating acids, and the Sure-Striking ammunition girt with Bane to Legends pounded through their Immortal defenses against mortal weapons and blew great big holes in them.
Then they were dead and gone and those fields they were tromping through and ruining had the best yields for the last three years running, and we had six Bane to Legends Dreadskulls for the Darkmoor collection of the things.
Now the fire giants were making another attempt at the place, with a double-strength squad of nearly twoscore giants, clearly determined to make it through to the end on brawn alone if required. The lack of previous survivors didn’t help matters, but I assumed their shamans had told them about things inside and prepared them as best they might.
The defenses hadn’t changed, so they were definitely going to make it there unless I intervened.
And someone was counting on that intervention.
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Dread’s Dreadskull was swiveling atop it, the shrunken Titan’s skull looking like it was sniffing about like a dog for something. Of course, the Immortal Power from the Club pervaded the area like a stinking mass of artfully wrong Fire and Domination magic, but that didn’t hide the fact there was another Immortal presence here.
I turned to Carconadyx, the massive black spiked Club on the altar clearly aware that I was here, but also unable to do anything unless touched by a mortal.
“Well, time to move it,” I muttered to nobody in particular, and raised my hands.
The Time Stop went off very smoothly, much more smoothly than mortal spellcasting would allow. The passage of time in the affected area jerked to an instant halt, and that area naturally included me.
A hand reached out from behind me to take Dread from me, doubtless thinking itself clever, while spells flickered on and around me, preparing to take effect when the Time Stop ended and obliterate me for my cleverness. I was clearly caught in a magical trap that would not affect the fire giants at all, or had been blasted by a rebound from my own spells.
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I recognized the magic, too.
My Temporal Cloak activated completely, the Dreadskull on Dread whipped around to face the startled figure of black flames reaching for it, a Contingent Deadly Strike went off as Dread activated Greater Mighty Wallop and his thrice-a-day x4 damage multiplier, while I channeled a full-out volley of Shards through him while spinning to smash a Greater One Strike directly into our opponent.
It was Immortal, and mortal attacks were supposed to do minimum damage against it, plus mortal magic wasn’t supposed to hurt it at all.
Bane against Legends took care of the immunity to magic and mortals, and Deadly Strike set all martial damage to maximum, so the minimum damage was the maximum… and naturally all my magic was already set to the top by Consecrated Spell against non-Good opponents.
Gulguz’s Avatar was really, really surprised when he died that fast.
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Fwip, I said mentally, and my own Contingency got me out of there just before the Avatar’s explosion took out the mountain, and incidentally the entire raiding party of Fire Jotuns. Not at all incidentally, the perfectly harmonized explosion’s vivus feasted on the great Carconadyx, the Club of Contention, Weapon of the All-Conqueror, treasured toy made by Gulguz’s own hand, and blew that thing to pieces and feasted on it, too.
As it did so, a certain waiting set of Spell Runes went off at IX+1 and went plunging for a Truename. In this case, one of four, and found the first one.
I’d been coming here for years. Of course I had prepared the whole mountain to destroy that thing, and any Immortal who came to stop me. The Runes I had plastered under thin layers of stone to hide them from casual observation went off as one, and wow, was that quite a show.
I left Dread behind to drink in as much as he could, too.
Jillius’ ridiculous Dungeon blew apart like a small nuke went off. The extra five thousand feet of height on the mountain went away, all of the ice vaporized or melted, the dormant volcano was suddenly explosively active again, and Nown, well, Nown was liking me more each and every day.
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I watched the roiling white cloud boiling skyward from ten miles away on a convenient hilltop… and then equally dramatically the white cloud was falling earthwards as the vivus was drawn back down to the hungry megalith. It was like a great white cloud weeping tears, even while debris was falling down over a ten-mile area, leveling everything and causing landslides and avalanches. The shockwave of the eruption actually broke past me and tore any unanchored materials off the top of the foothill I was on as it thundered into the distance without me, Primus no-selling it steadfastly. I watched the cloud spread, the center of it now blackening as fire and ash poured out into the sky from the suddenly resurgent volcano, all the Immortal Power that had been sealing it now consumed and Nown feeling the urge to flex as Dread reappeared in my grasp.
Dread also alerted me to the Immortal who had just popped up unseen nearby seconds later.
“Satisfied?” I asked aloud, nothing but my hair swaying in that direction.
There was a moment of dramatic delay, and then a slender fellow in fine merchant’s robes melted into view next to me, also watching the show.
The Immortal Jillius clucked his tongue in appreciation for the way the violent winds were blowing past me harmlessly, and the way I was ignoring the falling debris, some of which was falling about us in dark smoking arcs and booming impacts.
Funf was Telekinetically nudging aside anything which might hit me, so I wasn’t worried, and anything smaller than a multi-ton boulder wasn’t going to get past my Reverse Missile, which doubled as shrapnel defense as well.
“This was not supposed to happen, you realize,” he said to me sternly. “The Jotuns were supposed to claim Carconadyx and start a new kingdom of their own!”
“Is that what was going on? I thought you were merely lazy and didn’t want to make a truly effective vault for the thing. Having to come out here every time they made an attempt for it was becoming annoying.”
He eyed me at the curious mix of truth and not-truth in my words. Clearly I was not happy with him over making me come out here repeatedly, however.
The fact the Immortals of Iberon had utterly betrayed me by allowing Gulguz to take personal action in there also did not escape me. Clearly I couldn’t rely on or trust any of them, and that definitely included him, who hadn’t even bothered to give me a warning.
“Perhaps your Patron should reveal themselves and discuss these matters with us,” he told me a tad smugly.
Interesting. Even a hint of menace in his voice. Did he not like being foiled, and out-foxed? Clearly this whole incident had not turned out as he had expected.
“Do you think I speak for my Patron?” I inquired of him calmly, having no sympathy for him or his position.
He ground his teeth at me, as I did not bother to defer to him. “It is plain your Patron has their own ways and means of taking action, especially when other Immortals dare to interfere with a prized Aspirant.”
“Amazing. It is like he is enforcing and obeyng Immortal Law while other Immortals are mightily trying to circumvent it, and they are getting peeved about it.” Now I did turn to look directly at him. “Are you here to break more Immortal Laws de facto, such as by allowing Gulguz free rein to act as he pleased inside the mountain, Immortal Jillius? Perhaps calling out to Nifl that you are withdrawing from the area loudly, and you shall give her privacy? I’m sure all your peers will agree with you that you did not take any action to interfere with the life of a mortal yourself.”
I could see the irritation in his eyes before he hid it behind an ingenuous smile. “You do not change much, Lady Edge, but I suppose that is true of most elves.”
“Oh, and Immortals change so readily in contrast?” I asked in utterly droll tones. “From the Immortal wearing robes from the reign of Hoxates I?” Like, a thousand years out of date.
He flushed, a wee bit caught out and surprised I knew that. Assay tells a lot of things on surface scans.
“You do have a point,” he managed to grin. “But one can say that the more things change, the more they stay the same.”
“Ah. So this returning to a volcano after a brief change is exactly as you intended. Most interesting, Immortal Jillius.”
He sighed, caught out again. “Be wary, young elfin. Your new nation is running up against some very troublesome enemies.”
I turned to look back at the exploding volcano. “Yes, Immortal Jillius. It most certainly is…”