CC 11: Thunderplump ~ Prologue!

<Heed my words, my Progenitor of the Ice.> The words of the Jotunn rang within the mind of the third eldest of the Frost Giants.

He had been hoping for this moment, the honor of being the first of his brethren to hunt down creatures from the summer lands. Brisingr knew that there was no other reason the Mythical World Boss himself would reach out to alter the path he’d been set to roam.

Hours passed as he waited with the patience of a glacier for additional instructions to be offered to him, his anticipation shown by managing to take two entire steps during that time; traversing dozens upon dozens of miles of the frigid land where frost and ice had held dominion for millennia—ever since they had last driven beings from the summer lands out.

<One settlement is already reaching far beyond their station, and it is time to make an example of them. Return them to the ice, and ensure that all warmth within a thousand miles has been chilled.>

“I hear. I obey.” Only when he felt the attention of his sovereign turn away did the giant’s features, intricate carvings beneath layers of glaciers and packed snow, begin to break into what could be interpreted as a smile. A terrible, cataclysmic grin showcasing the abject, insane glee he was feeling at the moment.

“This. This is it. Finally, after waiting with the patience of a creeping glacier, I, Brisingr, will be able to freeze out my brothers. I shall take the position of first disciple for myself.”

As his feet came together, steadying his stance, the ground around him for hundreds of miles began to quake. With a deep inhale that caused tornadoes and hurricanes to form across the continent, he prepared his words. For one moment, there was abject calm, then his deep, resounding bellow reverberated across over a thousand miles as he called upon the children of the Jörmungandr.

The surface layer of the world shook as thousands, then millions of monstrous creatures began to stir from their hibernation. From the most humble yet ferocious penguin, to the great permafrost Wyrms tunneling below the bedrock seeking hidden settlements, all were called to fulfill their ancestral oaths. One and all began to converge on his location, leaving behind all territories, abandoning internal battles, prepared to starve instead of finishing their hunt… all to be a part of the gathering horde.

Brisingr stepped forward once again, each footfall reshaping the geography below him as his gaze remained locked on a collection of low, snow-covered hills. Approaching the mounds, he reached out with surprising care and grasped the nearest of them. With a slow, steady pull, he revealed a mass of frozen fur that seemed to have no end. The frost giant casually looped it around his neck, completing his preparations for the long walk.

“Now, I am dressed for the job I want.” He let out a deep chuckle and began to stride along once more, scarf streaming behind him in the gale force winds created by his passing. His monocle gleamed in the dim light that passed through the ever-present cloud layer, and Brisingr began to softly hum.

The tune that reverberated out from him was a standing call to arms from all of the creatures within range. A steady pressure from his immense Charisma, which drilled against even the strongest of mental defenses that would keep the beasts from ignoring his initial call. Eventually, none would be able to resist.

As the daylight turned to darkness, the giant found himself nearing the edge of a vast chasm, an abyss so deep that it seemed to plunge nearly halfway to the core of the planet itself. Brisingr had been here many times before; had witnessed when the Jotunn itself had done battle against the Sagedom of Vanaheim. Even he felt a chill down his spine as he remembered how the Mythical World Boss had dug its fingers into the planet and bodily hurled the entire continent into space… before chanting an incantation that caused it to detonate. From there, the Jotunn had commanded the debris to shift into the fallout that, even to this day, caused an eternal winter on the planet.

Without missing a step, the giant continued forward, toward what would be an impassable obstacle for any other being. “I now see your wisdom in choosing me, great Jotunn.”

His chin tilted up, and his eyes raised to the swirling storm above. The ambient mana of the world collapsed toward him as if drawn in by a black hole, gathering in his right eye and being amplified a thousand-fold by his icy monocle.

A beam of energy colder than the depths of space spiraled outward in a triple helix, striking the dense clouds overhead, then sweeping along in a straight path in front of the giant. Where his gaze passed, the clouds themselves solidified into blocks of ice, plummeting from the sky and into the gaping chasm barring his path.

Even as he continued forward, the void was filled in a straight line. The brand new, icy bridge held his weight without issue, as he had known it would. Hundreds of thousands of creatures swarmed across with him, and the great migration to destroy the upstarts had officially begun.

“What weapon should I use to showcase the might of the everfrost?” Brisingr mused to himself, the wind from his lips sending thousands of creatures careening off and into the void surrounding the bridge. “A storm that separates flesh from bone, freezing both once they have been parted? No… then they would never look upon my face and understand the hopelessness of their goal. An arch of ultimate ice that descends from the heavens, ignoring all defenses and eradicating the heart of their settlement? …Perhaps. Yes, that sounds… appropriate.”

“First, I will destroy their only hope. Then, I will dismantle anything they have managed to build. Last, I will encase them in ice for a thousand generations.” Brisingr slowly nodded as he allowed the plan to settle into its final form.

“Novusheim… enjoy the last, fleeting warmth you managed to force upon us. I thank you for your sacrifice, for you shall be the stone I step on to climb to higher heights.”