Oruldr continued his pace, his long strides cutting through the snow with ease. Forgoing his warhammer, Oruldr ran freely, his arms rotating up and down at his side as his strides grew larger and faster. With each step, his speed increased, and his large momentum shook the very ground beneath them as he sprinted forward. Learning they were here on behalf of Maeve, he was ecstatic to hasten his pace and get the trio to Mount Aglazad as soon as possible.
When Maeve was last here, she helped Oruldr and his Tribe survive a joint ambush between the Yeti and the Maranuh Frost Giant Tribe. The Maranuh Tribe can sway to any side you want if you had enough of what they want at the time, which could spell trouble for those who crossed their path.
The Maranuh Tribe weren't ruthless like most Tribes; they were trained by a wandering swordsman millennia ago. Now, each of them fought with precision and skill that made death almost inevitable. No amount of strength could overcome unrelenting raw skill and talent, and the Maranuh Tribe had both. Luckily for Oruldr and his Tribe, Maeve happened to be passing through that day, the same day she was going to Mount Aglazad to ask the Ymir Dwarves if making her Void Cloak was possible.
Oruldr swore his life to Maeve that day; anything she needed, he was at her beck and call.
The trio sat in silence, each having their own internal conversation about how much their lives had changed over the last few months. They went from a ragtag team of Adventurers conquering Dungeons across the Outer Realms without much of a care in the world to becoming part of something far larger than they had ever thought possible. From rebuilding an entire island Kingdom to working alongside an Immortal, their lives had taken a drastic turn from Dungeon crawling.
While Idris and Menelik were processing what would come next once they returned to Sidra, Taharqa was pondering if he should visit his kin. It had been far too long, and while the location would be the same, everyone and everything would not.
The Dark Elves of Ayce had built all their structures out of ice and snow, and about every three years, they use a spell to melt everything down to nothing and sleep in tents for a week or two, however long until Nazzaroth is covered in meters upon meters of snow, and from there, they start to rebuild. Everyone gets a fresh start again, a new Nazzaroth.
It is a silly tradition, but it was a Frühein Tradition nonetheless. It was something Taharqa’s Grandfather had thought up after a Tribe of Yeti destroyed it in the War of a Thousand and Three Nights. It was a way for them to show that they could survive any hardship that may come their way, it was to show that Dark Elves endure.
Taharqa only pondered on this because he left his people for a reason, civil war, the exact opposite of Frühein Tradition. There was death on an unimaginable scale on both sides, splitting his family down the middle. Taharqa truly couldn't pick a side, so he fled and found a new family. He looked over at Idris and Menelik from behind Oruldr’s neck. Both were deep in thought, and as much as he didn't want to interrupt them, he had to ask.
"Hey, guys."
Menelik turned first. "Yo?"
"Will you guys care if I step away for a bit?"
Idris popped his head behind Menelik’s. "You thinking about sliding?"
"Yeah, just for a bit. I can catch up." Taharqa tried to give them a stern look to express how serious he was about going alone, but it wasn't going to matter.
"Hey, Oruldr, big guy?" Menelik called out.
"Yes, my Panther friend?" Oruldr’s voice boomed out as he kept his massive strides and pace, a smile on his face but he did not turn his head, only his eyes. "Speak your wonders!"
"Yeah, okay, Prince here needs to stop at his house."
Oruldr turned his feet and body just enough to start sliding to a halt, his attention shifting a bit to Taharqa then over to Menelik and Idris as he came to a stop in the snow.
"Home you say? You wish to go to Nazzaroth?" He took his hand and grabbed the trio, lifting them toward his head. "It is a good thing we are closer to home than Aglazad. Would be a long walk back, eh?" A big smile plastered his face, but it quickly faded when he looked at Taharqa. "Hmm, your expression, you want to go alone, but I will tell you now." Oruldr’s voice took on a hard tone. "I cannot allow it. The Hehuyur Tribe roam that area, and you know how they feel about your kind." He lifted them closer. "If you truly wish to go there, we will go, but you will have to hide within my fist. I promise not to crush you."
Taharqa shook his head, but Oruldr shook his back and lifted them as close as he could to his face. "Dark Elf, this is not a choice. I will bind you in magic before I let you go alone. We all go or no one does."
The entire group was a bit taken aback; they saw how he fought, they knew there was a beast of a warrior inside, but that tone was something different. It was fierce and thorough and very much a threat, one that none of them wanted to see the other side of.
"We're going," Menelik boasted.
Taharqa turned to him, his face contorted. "I'm serious; I want to go alone."
Menelik looked at Oruldr, his expression still stoic in a fierce expression. "You don't have a choice. Stop being a bitch and start working on how you're gonna sit in his hand."
Taharqa let out an exhausted sigh, then closed his eyes, taking in labored breaths. "Alright, let's get moving then." He said in a defeated tone.
Oruldr nodded and lifted them back onto his shoulders and turned around, adjusting himself to the southeast. He knelt down a bit, bending at the knees before he took off running, his long strides making quick work of the distance while the three of them ventured back into their thoughts.
The thought of visiting home ran through both Menelik and Idris’s minds. Both had yearned for their home, but Menelik, as of right now, had no way to get to Drithel.
Drithel lies on the outside of The Ocean’s Wrath, the magic storm that separates the Outer Realms from The Great Beyond where Drithel lies. Menelik hasn't been home in he can't remember how long. When Theriocephal are born from the Black Sands of the Azurill Desert, they mediate for as long as needed to get through their memories, to sort through them to form a personality and discover who they are.
The memories are not theirs but of those of someone not from Arrithia, and even after countless time, his kind still do not know where the memories originate from. But when Menelik was in his meditative state, he fell back through the Black Sands, seemingly pulled, and when he came out of his state, he was in the White Sands of the Zallal Desert on the island of Pök.
Menelik never got to meet who would eventually become his mother and father; his family was taken from him before he even knew who he was.
As for Idris, his home, The Kikimaru Islands are in the North Eastern section of The Outer Realm, a chain of islands where damn near anything that can fly lives in a decent harmony.
The islands are broken up by kin; The Gargoyles inhabit Goliath’s Gate, the largest island, while the Birdfolk, Harpies, Griffons, Minokawas, Phoenixes, and Wyverns live scattered amongst the other six islands in the chain.
Idris, like Taharqa, comes from royal blood, but when his father disappeared in a dungeon, his mother remarried, and it was his father who was of royal blood, not his mother. In Gargoyle Culture, blood is above all, and when Idris didn’t want the throne, the Monarch was to be disbanded, which caused not a civil war, but an all-out bloodbath.
There were no sides; it was every Gargoyle for themselves.
When the dust finally settled, Idris, Garax, Kalis, Agith, Tanos, and Jaaku were the only Gargoyles left alive, an entire species of hundreds of thousands reduced to a mere six. Each had collapsed one after another across the island, and when Idris awoke, he did not go looking for survivors; he simply left for Pök where he planned to start anew.
It was there he met Oduduwa and Menelik for the first time.
Idris pondered a lot about what might have happened to his homeland. There was no doubt the Wyvern took advantage; the Volcano in the center of the island had caught their eyes for centuries on end, but the Gargoyles were incredibly territorial. He pulled himself from these thoughts and nudged Idris.
"Yeah?" He replied. "What’s up?"
"You think Zero is gonna be able to get Oduduwa back?"
Idris’s question struck at Menelik; it was something he too had been worrying about.
He glanced down at his lap. "I don’t know." He looked up at the snow; it peppered his face repeatedly. "He's arrogant, but coming back from the dead is one thing; it’s a whole other to bring others back too. It feels like it’s impossible."
Idris nodded. "Yeah, thought so." He looked down at his own lap, then to the rapier that hung awkwardly on his hip. "Shit’s been different, hasn’t it, since we met them?"
"What do you mean?" Menelik asked. "Like everything going on or what?"
"That and the fact how they got us all questioning everything, and how because of them, we are a hellovalot stronger now."
"Yeah, but because of them, we had to come here, which caused us to lose our weapons. I really liked that staff, my guy." Menelik turned his full attention to Idris. "But I know what you mean. Zero gets on my fucking nerves sometimes; his ego and shit get under my skin. He can also be dramatic as fuck, but this has been fun."
"I’m not asking you to tell me how you feel about him on the inside."
"That ain’t the inside; I’ll tell him to his face."
Idris shook his head with closed eyes. "Right, but all I’m saying is, I think it’s a good thing we all met."
"I guess, but Zero’s still a—" Menelik cut himself off when he noticed that Oruldr was coming to a halt. He turned his attention upward. "We there already?!" he called out.
Oruldr shook his head, and when he spoke, it came as a whisper. "No, not even, but I smell Yeti, a lot of them."
"Yeah, so?" Taharqa called out. "We knew that would be the case."
"No, we are still a ways from Nazzaroth, and the Hehuyur Tribe should be on the outside perimeters and a ways beyond, but this is more than a ways, nearly triple their normal territory."
"Could it be like, some sort of patrol?" Menelik asked. "Like scouts or whatever Yetis call themselves when they go looking around for trouble?"
"It could be, but I smell at least thirty or more." Oruldr replied.
"You can smell numbers?" Idris asked. "That’s…that’s actually kinda impressive."
Oruldr looked over to his left, his eyes a cold sight. "All of you, into the snow, quickly." He grabbed them and lowered them down. "Do any of you know Lightning Magic?" Menelik raised his hand. "Good, use it to increase your speed so that you can keep up, but also…" Oruldr held out his hand, and just as before, his warhammer came flying into his grasp. "...watch for falling Yetis."
Oruldr continued his pace, his long strides cutting through the snow with ease. Forgoing his warhammer, Oruldr ran freely, his arms rotating up and down at his side as his strides grew larger and faster. With each step, his speed increased, and his large momentum shook the very ground beneath them as he sprinted forward. Learning they were here on behalf of Maeve, he was ecstatic to hasten his pace and get the trio to Mount Aglazad as soon as possible.
When Maeve was last here, she helped Oruldr and his Tribe survive a joint ambush between the Yeti and the Maranuh Frost Giant Tribe. The Maranuh Tribe can sway to any side you want if you had enough of what they want at the time, which could spell trouble for those who crossed their path.
The Maranuh Tribe weren't ruthless like most Tribes; they were trained by a wandering swordsman millennia ago. Now, each of them fought with precision and skill that made death almost inevitable. No amount of strength could overcome unrelenting raw skill and talent, and the Maranuh Tribe had both. Luckily for Oruldr and his Tribe, Maeve happened to be passing through that day, the same day she was going to Mount Aglazad to ask the Ymir Dwarves if making her Void Cloak was possible.
Oruldr swore his life to Maeve that day; anything she needed, he was at her beck and call.
The trio sat in silence, each having their own internal conversation about how much their lives had changed over the last few months. They went from a ragtag team of Adventurers conquering Dungeons across the Outer Realms without much of a care in the world to becoming part of something far larger than they had ever thought possible. From rebuilding an entire island Kingdom to working alongside an Immortal, their lives had taken a drastic turn from Dungeon crawling.
While Idris and Menelik were processing what would come next once they returned to Sidra, Taharqa was pondering if he should visit his kin. It had been far too long, and while the location would be the same, everyone and everything would not.
The Dark Elves of Ayce had built all their structures out of ice and snow, and about every three years, they use a spell to melt everything down to nothing and sleep in tents for a week or two, however long until Nazzaroth is covered in meters upon meters of snow, and from there, they start to rebuild. Everyone gets a fresh start again, a new Nazzaroth.
It is a silly tradition, but it was a Frühein Tradition nonetheless. It was something Taharqa’s Grandfather had thought up after a Tribe of Yeti destroyed it in the War of a Thousand and Three Nights. It was a way for them to show that they could survive any hardship that may come their way, it was to show that Dark Elves endure.
Taharqa only pondered on this because he left his people for a reason, civil war, the exact opposite of Frühein Tradition. There was death on an unimaginable scale on both sides, splitting his family down the middle. Taharqa truly couldn't pick a side, so he fled and found a new family. He looked over at Idris and Menelik from behind Oruldr’s neck. Both were deep in thought, and as much as he didn't want to interrupt them, he had to ask.
"Hey, guys."
Menelik turned first. "Yo?"
"Will you guys care if I step away for a bit?"
Idris popped his head behind Menelik’s. "You thinking about sliding?"
"Yeah, just for a bit. I can catch up." Taharqa tried to give them a stern look to express how serious he was about going alone, but it wasn't going to matter.
"Hey, Oruldr, big guy?" Menelik called out.
"Yes, my Panther friend?" Oruldr’s voice boomed out as he kept his massive strides and pace, a smile on his face but he did not turn his head, only his eyes. "Speak your wonders!"
"Yeah, okay, Prince here needs to stop at his house."
Oruldr turned his feet and body just enough to start sliding to a halt, his attention shifting a bit to Taharqa then over to Menelik and Idris as he came to a stop in the snow.
"Home you say? You wish to go to Nazzaroth?" He took his hand and grabbed the trio, lifting them toward his head. "It is a good thing we are closer to home than Aglazad. Would be a long walk back, eh?" A big smile plastered his face, but it quickly faded when he looked at Taharqa. "Hmm, your expression, you want to go alone, but I will tell you now." Oruldr’s voice took on a hard tone. "I cannot allow it. The Hehuyur Tribe roam that area, and you know how they feel about your kind." He lifted them closer. "If you truly wish to go there, we will go, but you will have to hide within my fist. I promise not to crush you."
Taharqa shook his head, but Oruldr shook his back and lifted them as close as he could to his face. "Dark Elf, this is not a choice. I will bind you in magic before I let you go alone. We all go or no one does."
The entire group was a bit taken aback; they saw how he fought, they knew there was a beast of a warrior inside, but that tone was something different. It was fierce and thorough and very much a threat, one that none of them wanted to see the other side of.
"We're going," Menelik boasted.
Taharqa turned to him, his face contorted. "I'm serious; I want to go alone."
Menelik looked at Oruldr, his expression still stoic in a fierce expression. "You don't have a choice. Stop being a bitch and start working on how you're gonna sit in his hand."
Taharqa let out an exhausted sigh, then closed his eyes, taking in labored breaths. "Alright, let's get moving then." He said in a defeated tone.
Oruldr nodded and lifted them back onto his shoulders and turned around, adjusting himself to the southeast. He knelt down a bit, bending at the knees before he took off running, his long strides making quick work of the distance while the three of them ventured back into their thoughts.
The thought of visiting home ran through both Menelik and Idris’s minds. Both had yearned for their home, but Menelik, as of right now, had no way to get to Drithel.
Drithel lies on the outside of The Ocean’s Wrath, the magic storm that separates the Outer Realms from The Great Beyond where Drithel lies. Menelik hasn't been home in he can't remember how long. When Theriocephal are born from the Black Sands of the Azurill Desert, they mediate for as long as needed to get through their memories, to sort through them to form a personality and discover who they are.
The memories are not theirs but of those of someone not from Arrithia, and even after countless time, his kind still do not know where the memories originate from. But when Menelik was in his meditative state, he fell back through the Black Sands, seemingly pulled, and when he came out of his state, he was in the White Sands of the Zallal Desert on the island of Pök.
Menelik never got to meet who would eventually become his mother and father; his family was taken from him before he even knew who he was.
As for Idris, his home, The Kikimaru Islands are in the North Eastern section of The Outer Realm, a chain of islands where damn near anything that can fly lives in a decent harmony.
The islands are broken up by kin; The Gargoyles inhabit Goliath’s Gate, the largest island, while the Birdfolk, Harpies, Griffons, Minokawas, Phoenixes, and Wyverns live scattered amongst the other six islands in the chain.
Idris, like Taharqa, comes from royal blood, but when his father disappeared in a dungeon, his mother remarried, and it was his father who was of royal blood, not his mother. In Gargoyle Culture, blood is above all, and when Idris didn’t want the throne, the Monarch was to be disbanded, which caused not a civil war, but an all-out bloodbath.
There were no sides; it was every Gargoyle for themselves.
When the dust finally settled, Idris, Garax, Kalis, Agith, Tanos, and Jaaku were the only Gargoyles left alive, an entire species of hundreds of thousands reduced to a mere six. Each had collapsed one after another across the island, and when Idris awoke, he did not go looking for survivors; he simply left for Pök where he planned to start anew.
It was there he met Oduduwa and Menelik for the first time.
Idris pondered a lot about what might have happened to his homeland. There was no doubt the Wyvern took advantage; the Volcano in the center of the island had caught their eyes for centuries on end, but the Gargoyles were incredibly territorial. He pulled himself from these thoughts and nudged Idris.
"Yeah?" He replied. "What’s up?"
"You think Zero is gonna be able to get Oduduwa back?"
Idris’s question struck at Menelik; it was something he too had been worrying about.
He glanced down at his lap. "I don’t know." He looked up at the snow; it peppered his face repeatedly. "He's arrogant, but coming back from the dead is one thing; it’s a whole other to bring others back too. It feels like it’s impossible."
Idris nodded. "Yeah, thought so." He looked down at his own lap, then to the rapier that hung awkwardly on his hip. "Shit’s been different, hasn’t it, since we met them?"
"What do you mean?" Menelik asked. "Like everything going on or what?"
"That and the fact how they got us all questioning everything, and how because of them, we are a hellovalot stronger now."
"Yeah, but because of them, we had to come here, which caused us to lose our weapons. I really liked that staff, my guy." Menelik turned his full attention to Idris. "But I know what you mean. Zero gets on my fucking nerves sometimes; his ego and shit get under my skin. He can also be dramatic as fuck, but this has been fun."
"I’m not asking you to tell me how you feel about him on the inside."
"That ain’t the inside; I’ll tell him to his face."
Idris shook his head with closed eyes. "Right, but all I’m saying is, I think it’s a good thing we all met."
"I guess, but Zero’s still a—" Menelik cut himself off when he noticed that Oruldr was coming to a halt. He turned his attention upward. "We there already?!" he called out.
Oruldr shook his head, and when he spoke, it came as a whisper. "No, not even, but I smell Yeti, a lot of them."
"Yeah, so?" Taharqa called out. "We knew that would be the case."
"No, we are still a ways from Nazzaroth, and the Hehuyur Tribe should be on the outside perimeters and a ways beyond, but this is more than a ways, nearly triple their normal territory."
"Could it be like, some sort of patrol?" Menelik asked. "Like scouts or whatever Yetis call themselves when they go looking around for trouble?"
"It could be, but I smell at least thirty or more." Oruldr replied.
"You can smell numbers?" Idris asked. "That’s…that’s actually kinda impressive."
Oruldr looked over to his left, his eyes a cold sight. "All of you, into the snow, quickly." He grabbed them and lowered them down. "Do any of you know Lightning Magic?" Menelik raised his hand. "Good, use it to increase your speed so that you can keep up, but also…" Oruldr held out his hand, and just as before, his warhammer came flying into his grasp. "...watch for falling Yetis."
