Taharqa was the first to extricate himself from the snow, no assistance from his scythe or staff, both tossed who knows where. His gaze swept the desolate surroundings, desperately seeking any sign of his comrades. Calling out proved futile against the howling winds and swirling snow. Unease settled in as the thought crossed his mind—had they been thrown so violently that his enchantment dispelled itself? If so, the grim prospect of searching for frozen corpses loomed. Fortunately for the entire group, another party of Frost Giants happened upon them. These newcomers, however, lacked the aggression of their previous encounter. Similar in stature and adorned with tattoos, the only distinction between them and the ones who attacked them, were the sigils on their skirts and the group's choice of a white mohawk instead of braids.
"Are you the owner of the Gargoyle and Panther Theriocephal?" one of them inquired.
Taharqa hesitated, then nodded. "I am."
"Come, follow, we will take you to them."
Following the Frost Giants eastward, Taharqa soon found Idris and Menelik conversing with another trio of Giants, all wrapped in garments made of pure white Yeti fur and they too looked to have lost their weapons.
The Giants and Taharqa became visible in the storm, prompting both Idris and Menelik to turn.
"There he is," Menelik announced.
"Not gonna lie, my guy, I may have shit myself when your spell started to wane, but these guys showed up and wrapped us in their skirts," Idris deadpanned, earning a smirk from Taharqa.
"Dark Elf," one of the Giants addressed Taharqa. "What tribe do you belong to?"
"Frühein," Taharqa replied. "But I will say, this is the first time I’ve been home in about two hundred years."
The Frost Giants exchanged glances before the one with a mark from his left eye to collarbone spoke. "Frühein is royal blood. Your name, Dark Elf, is it Taharqa Frühein, Prince of Nazzaroth?"
Taharqa sighed. "I was hoping to get here and fuck off without anyone finding out, but yeah, that’s me."
Idris and Menelik both recoiled, exchanging a glance.
"Priiiiiince?" Idris exclaimed. "What he mean you’a Prince?"
"You been holding out on us, my yute?" Menelik questioned. "I thought we was family?"
Taharqa's smirk faded into a short glare at the Frost Giant who had spoken before shifting back to the two of them, lightening his expression. "The Frühein Elves are the original Dark Elves who first brought themselves to Ayce, like, a million years ago or whatever it is. When my father dies, if he and Mum ain’t dead already, I would be the thirteenth King of Nazzaroth."
A moment of quiet lingered before Menelik said, "I know most species on this planet live for hundreds to thousands of years, but to know that you'd only be the thirteenth King in a line of Elves when your kind has been around for as long as it has…it makes Elves a lot more intimidating than I was expecting."
"All that ass-whooping experience they holding in them hands starting to come front and center, ain't it?" Idris remarked. "Starting to wonder if that mouth of yours should be running all the time when you speak to ‘em, huh?"
The Frost Giants erupted in laughter. "Your slaves are funny, Prince."
Idris and Menelik whipped their heads toward the Frost Giant who spoke so assertively that Taharqa couldn't help but begin shouting.
"No, no, no, no. They aren’t my slaves; these are my friends!"
Menelik and Idris shifted their attention to Taharqa, expressions a mix of confusion, concern, and annoyance.
"What you been telling them?" Menelik asked. "I carried your shit one time, and you over here calling me yo slave? You think you know a man."
A lingering silence prevailed before another Frost Giant spoke up. "Prince. What brings you and your…friends back to your homeland?"
Taharqa pondered for a moment before saying, "How much time do you have?"
The Frost Giants and the group engaged in conversation, attempting to relay as much as they could. The war with the Vampires, the dying state of Arrithia, the events surrounding the second Sun and the destruction of the Moon, then finally, the revelation of a fourth member of their party; Shiroe.
"Apologies for the loss of your comrade," the scarred Frost Giant stated. "Tensions are high amongst the Giants." He adjusted himself in the circle they had formed in the snow. Menelik, Idris, and Taharqa each rested on a different Giant’s knee, keeping them out of the snow. "A lot has changed since you’ve been gone, young Prince. The Frost Giants are no longer a united kin."
Taharqa nearly fell from his spot with his reaction. He couldn't believe what he was hearing—the Frost Giants had been one enormous clan since before Ayce was even given its name. "What? The Dungeon Breaks have gotten that bad?"
"The Dungeons were not what broke our kin and have kept it shattered; it is Dohon."
"Dohon is still alive?!" Taharqa’s tone dripped with exasperation as he spoke. The notion that the Frost Giants had become a fractured people was already surprising, but the revelation that Dohon still lived caught him completely off guard.
King Dohon, a Yeti who had been ancient even when the Dark Elves first discovered Ayce, was a gruesome sight—wartorn, burned, disfigured, and a general mess of a Yeti. The fact that he endured through the ages sent a shiver down Taharqa's spine. His kind had clashed with Dohon and his pack on numerous occasions, each encounter revealing him as a true monster. Taharqa couldn't fathom what the relentless Dohon might have wrought upon the entire island. The Dwarves might be fiercely resilient, but Dohon's sheer ferocity was able to break what most thought was an unbreakable bond amongst the Frost Giant Tribes.
"And the Dwarves?" Taharqa inquired.
"Dohon tried to take Mount Aglazad, but Ymir’s Dwarves may be more bullheaded than Valoskorri." The scarred Frost Giant gestured toward whose knee Menelik was sitting on. "Ah, that reminds me, we have not properly introduced ourselves." He placed a hand on his chest. "I am Oruldr." He gestured toward the Giant where Taharqa sat. "Skuttir." He gestured toward the next two. "Fulvreg and Fuldr." Then he moved to the last where Idris sat. "And lastly, Folymra."
Menelik looked at each of the Frost Giants intently, then turned to Oruldr. "Yeah, buddy, not to be that guy, but you all look the same, apart from you got a scar on your face."
The Frost Giants erupted into laughter, shaking the area. After a moment, they stopped and nodded in agreement.
"Haha, what do they call you, Pantherman?" Fulvreg asked.
"Menelik."
"Where is it you are from?" Folymra asked.
"Y’all ever heard of Drithel?"
"Ah, an island in the Great Beyond," Oruldr stated. "How did you find yourself on the other side of the storm?"
"Kidnapped."
Idris and Taharqa turned to him, their expressions a mix of open-mouthed surprise and scrunched faces.
"Da’fuck?" Idris asked.
"What?" Menelik replied. "I didn’t know you could grow wings…or Taharqa was a Prince, why you gotta know all about me…and ain’t you the one who said we all got personal boundaries and shit?"
"First that was a joke you bum. Second, you know damn well I didn’t know I could grow wings either," Idris retorted. "Also, usually when you abandon your family name and run away from home, you ain’t really a Prince anymore. Being kidnapped is like trauma and shit."
"Idris is right," Taharqa stated. "You shouldn’t bottle up your emotions like that. It’s no wonder you so angry all the time; you got all that repressed trauma."
"Ight, we can just skip over all that. I was young, sold off, now I’m here, deal with it," Menelik stated. He turned to Oruldr, his eyes lingered on him for a moment before darting side to side. "What are the odds…um…what are the odds you guys can help us defeat some Frost Giants so we can…" He stopped and turned to Taharqa. "Side note, what was that shit back there, since when you a whole ass wizard?"
"I’m not. I know Magic same as you. I also grew up here, so I know you can’t just let loose fireballs on repeat against them." Taharqa's head swayed to Idris for a moment before moving back to Menelik. "You want to get Shiroe’s body, don’t you?"
Menelik nodded. "Based on the one’s necklace, they’ll probably take him back to their camp and turn him into a new piece for it."
"Hmm," Oruldr exclaimed. "It was the Gihga Tribe who found you first was it? That is truly unfortunate. They have no camp where they will eventually return like we. They will have stripped your friend down to his bone the moment they disposed of you three. There is no recovering his corpse."
There was another lingering silence before Idris let out an exhausted sigh. "Maeve’s gonna kill us."
Taharqa was the first to extricate himself from the snow, no assistance from his scythe or staff, both tossed who knows where. His gaze swept the desolate surroundings, desperately seeking any sign of his comrades. Calling out proved futile against the howling winds and swirling snow. Unease settled in as the thought crossed his mind—had they been thrown so violently that his enchantment dispelled itself? If so, the grim prospect of searching for frozen corpses loomed. Fortunately for the entire group, another party of Frost Giants happened upon them. These newcomers, however, lacked the aggression of their previous encounter. Similar in stature and adorned with tattoos, the only distinction between them and the ones who attacked them, were the sigils on their skirts and the group's choice of a white mohawk instead of braids.
"Are you the owner of the Gargoyle and Panther Theriocephal?" one of them inquired.
Taharqa hesitated, then nodded. "I am."
"Come, follow, we will take you to them."
Following the Frost Giants eastward, Taharqa soon found Idris and Menelik conversing with another trio of Giants, all wrapped in garments made of pure white Yeti fur and they too looked to have lost their weapons.
The Giants and Taharqa became visible in the storm, prompting both Idris and Menelik to turn.
"There he is," Menelik announced.
"Not gonna lie, my guy, I may have shit myself when your spell started to wane, but these guys showed up and wrapped us in their skirts," Idris deadpanned, earning a smirk from Taharqa.
"Dark Elf," one of the Giants addressed Taharqa. "What tribe do you belong to?"
"Frühein," Taharqa replied. "But I will say, this is the first time I’ve been home in about two hundred years."
The Frost Giants exchanged glances before the one with a mark from his left eye to collarbone spoke. "Frühein is royal blood. Your name, Dark Elf, is it Taharqa Frühein, Prince of Nazzaroth?"
Taharqa sighed. "I was hoping to get here and fuck off without anyone finding out, but yeah, that’s me."
Idris and Menelik both recoiled, exchanging a glance.
"Priiiiiince?" Idris exclaimed. "What he mean you’a Prince?"
"You been holding out on us, my yute?" Menelik questioned. "I thought we was family?"
Taharqa's smirk faded into a short glare at the Frost Giant who had spoken before shifting back to the two of them, lightening his expression. "The Frühein Elves are the original Dark Elves who first brought themselves to Ayce, like, a million years ago or whatever it is. When my father dies, if he and Mum ain’t dead already, I would be the thirteenth King of Nazzaroth."
A moment of quiet lingered before Menelik said, "I know most species on this planet live for hundreds to thousands of years, but to know that you'd only be the thirteenth King in a line of Elves when your kind has been around for as long as it has…it makes Elves a lot more intimidating than I was expecting."
"All that ass-whooping experience they holding in them hands starting to come front and center, ain't it?" Idris remarked. "Starting to wonder if that mouth of yours should be running all the time when you speak to ‘em, huh?"
The Frost Giants erupted in laughter. "Your slaves are funny, Prince."
Idris and Menelik whipped their heads toward the Frost Giant who spoke so assertively that Taharqa couldn't help but begin shouting.
"No, no, no, no. They aren’t my slaves; these are my friends!"
Menelik and Idris shifted their attention to Taharqa, expressions a mix of confusion, concern, and annoyance.
"What you been telling them?" Menelik asked. "I carried your shit one time, and you over here calling me yo slave? You think you know a man."
A lingering silence prevailed before another Frost Giant spoke up. "Prince. What brings you and your…friends back to your homeland?"
Taharqa pondered for a moment before saying, "How much time do you have?"
The Frost Giants and the group engaged in conversation, attempting to relay as much as they could. The war with the Vampires, the dying state of Arrithia, the events surrounding the second Sun and the destruction of the Moon, then finally, the revelation of a fourth member of their party; Shiroe.
"Apologies for the loss of your comrade," the scarred Frost Giant stated. "Tensions are high amongst the Giants." He adjusted himself in the circle they had formed in the snow. Menelik, Idris, and Taharqa each rested on a different Giant’s knee, keeping them out of the snow. "A lot has changed since you’ve been gone, young Prince. The Frost Giants are no longer a united kin."
Taharqa nearly fell from his spot with his reaction. He couldn't believe what he was hearing—the Frost Giants had been one enormous clan since before Ayce was even given its name. "What? The Dungeon Breaks have gotten that bad?"
"The Dungeons were not what broke our kin and have kept it shattered; it is Dohon."
"Dohon is still alive?!" Taharqa’s tone dripped with exasperation as he spoke. The notion that the Frost Giants had become a fractured people was already surprising, but the revelation that Dohon still lived caught him completely off guard.
King Dohon, a Yeti who had been ancient even when the Dark Elves first discovered Ayce, was a gruesome sight—wartorn, burned, disfigured, and a general mess of a Yeti. The fact that he endured through the ages sent a shiver down Taharqa's spine. His kind had clashed with Dohon and his pack on numerous occasions, each encounter revealing him as a true monster. Taharqa couldn't fathom what the relentless Dohon might have wrought upon the entire island. The Dwarves might be fiercely resilient, but Dohon's sheer ferocity was able to break what most thought was an unbreakable bond amongst the Frost Giant Tribes.
"And the Dwarves?" Taharqa inquired.
"Dohon tried to take Mount Aglazad, but Ymir’s Dwarves may be more bullheaded than Valoskorri." The scarred Frost Giant gestured toward whose knee Menelik was sitting on. "Ah, that reminds me, we have not properly introduced ourselves." He placed a hand on his chest. "I am Oruldr." He gestured toward the Giant where Taharqa sat. "Skuttir." He gestured toward the next two. "Fulvreg and Fuldr." Then he moved to the last where Idris sat. "And lastly, Folymra."
Menelik looked at each of the Frost Giants intently, then turned to Oruldr. "Yeah, buddy, not to be that guy, but you all look the same, apart from you got a scar on your face."
The Frost Giants erupted into laughter, shaking the area. After a moment, they stopped and nodded in agreement.
"Haha, what do they call you, Pantherman?" Fulvreg asked.
"Menelik."
"Where is it you are from?" Folymra asked.
"Y’all ever heard of Drithel?"
"Ah, an island in the Great Beyond," Oruldr stated. "How did you find yourself on the other side of the storm?"
"Kidnapped."
Idris and Taharqa turned to him, their expressions a mix of open-mouthed surprise and scrunched faces.
"Da’fuck?" Idris asked.
"What?" Menelik replied. "I didn’t know you could grow wings…or Taharqa was a Prince, why you gotta know all about me…and ain’t you the one who said we all got personal boundaries and shit?"
"First that was a joke you bum. Second, you know damn well I didn’t know I could grow wings either," Idris retorted. "Also, usually when you abandon your family name and run away from home, you ain’t really a Prince anymore. Being kidnapped is like trauma and shit."
"Idris is right," Taharqa stated. "You shouldn’t bottle up your emotions like that. It’s no wonder you so angry all the time; you got all that repressed trauma."
"Ight, we can just skip over all that. I was young, sold off, now I’m here, deal with it," Menelik stated. He turned to Oruldr, his eyes lingered on him for a moment before darting side to side. "What are the odds…um…what are the odds you guys can help us defeat some Frost Giants so we can…" He stopped and turned to Taharqa. "Side note, what was that shit back there, since when you a whole ass wizard?"
"I’m not. I know Magic same as you. I also grew up here, so I know you can’t just let loose fireballs on repeat against them." Taharqa's head swayed to Idris for a moment before moving back to Menelik. "You want to get Shiroe’s body, don’t you?"
Menelik nodded. "Based on the one’s necklace, they’ll probably take him back to their camp and turn him into a new piece for it."
"Hmm," Oruldr exclaimed. "It was the Gihga Tribe who found you first was it? That is truly unfortunate. They have no camp where they will eventually return like we. They will have stripped your friend down to his bone the moment they disposed of you three. There is no recovering his corpse."
There was another lingering silence before Idris let out an exhausted sigh. "Maeve’s gonna kill us."
