Goblin Lands 2 Heroic Event 24: the Giants who Enslaved the Clouds

#1

Scribe and his comrades had walked the hard cracked stone from the canyons of Karov down south to the deserts that even the Tla’loc’alans avoid. As he had been told in a vision, he left all vehicles at his Arena, and all animals except his comrades. The vision had been clear. He followed it down into the sandstorms and out again days later on the other side of the desert.
Then the cracked stone appeared again below their feet and they continued their march.

Finally spreading out around him was the coastline, with its high cliffs and rocky shore. Directly ahead of him was the towering peaks of the Mountains of the Der’Yyan. This isolated mountain range jutted out over the coastal cliffs, its high peaks wreathed in storm clouds. As they camped at its base, preparing for the exhausting climb ahead of them, Scribe and his comrades could see a single plataeu halfway up the climb. It was visible from the large tree whose gold and green leaves could be seen from even this far away.

As they camped an old woman entered the camp, and Scribe instantly recognized her as Loki in a shapeshifted form. Before their eyes he turned once more into the dancing laughing form they had seen at the trial of Gorkaog.

Loki said, “I am Loki Laufeyson, called Sly One, the Trickster, the Shape Changer, and the Sky Traveler. I find meaning in the profane. I find all other divine beings to be jokes. But all beings love me none the less.

There are three tasks for you. I will tell you in reverse order for my amusement.

Task three is the hardest to accomplish.
The third task is to reach the top of this mountain. You will find the Cloud Slavers. Giants who control the stormy skies. You must find their chieftain and convince him to worship Loki. And you must show him how to do the ritual by performing the Blood Eagle on yourself on the Odin tree on that outcropping halfway up. But only once will you die, and rise again by your comrades hands. Then you will be restored as a Runecaster.

But of course there are two tasks you must complete as well, the first after, the latter earlier.

Your second task is to convince the remaining Cloud Slavers to bow down to my service and worship. They are giants and must understand my superiority to them. You must spread my faith among them.

Now This is your first task. You said you were one of the Fangs of Loki. I have a question for you:

Tell me of the Fangs of Loki, what is their purpose and why you would think I care if a criminal already on the way to his death offends the asgardians?”

Scribe looked up at the being he once thought quite grand and said, "My grandfather had a childhood a lot like you did. He was raised by an enemy of his blood, was weaker than those that raised him, and loved to pull pranks. Unlike you however he saw that those that raised him cared, they did not hide what they did nor did they make excuses. He eventually became a Rune caster and sought out his kin. Among them he taught of Loki, The Shifter, The Serpent, The Silver Tongued. His teaching took root and soon a hundred bastards had been trained in the ways of the Rune Caster. They set out on a quest. To find Loki and remind him of the light of the world. It is unknown what happened but of the one hundred warriors, only ten returned, with them was the Lord they had sought.

“For a long time our home was happy, full of pranks and mischief, but above all else we had a Lord who could understand how we think and why we act as we do. Then just before my father finished his training as a Rune Caster, Loki vanished. In a vision my father was told to follow in the steps of his father and seek out our Lord. Once more a hundred left our home, and only ten returned. And once more there was happiness and pranks. Then came my training and once more our Lord was gone. I lead a hundred of my kin out of our village, seeking out those that would know what was happening. We met with each of the beings sired or birthed by our Lord, each giving our group a more difficult task than the last.

“90 of my kin were given final death before my eyes before I was able to see the face of my Lord. We returned and my grandfather, seeing that this would happen again declared that those that return be called the Fangs of Loki and bare the names of nine of the fallen upon their back." Scribe removed his Nightmare hide vest to show them his back. There they saw the names and faces of nine bastards, all of whom had died in their quest. "We swore oaths that we would be faithful until our lord dismissed us, that we would remind others that the Silver Tongued was a being who helped Asgard until Baldyr dreamed his death and then they turned on our Lord, fulfilling the prophesy of Baldyr. Our Lord even showed us his true form and marked us as his servants.”

#2

Uruf looked up at the mountain and then at Loki and then at Scribe.

“You should never grasp for power. Power always comes with responsibilities and chains.

Responsibility to those you are supposed to protect with that power.

Chains to whatever method is used to gain that power.

The Bladed Sun faith is not simply a route to power, and should never be used as such.
Belief as simply a route to power leads to loss of meaning. And we are tasked by this universe to fill our lives with meaning. Meaningful work, meaningful play, meaningful communing with the universe, and meaningful communing with our fellow species.

My faith, shared with some, is that truth may be found through learning. That elements of the puzzle of the universe have been scattered across knowledge and faiths from many peoples. Each meaningful in its own way. Yet that meaning has to be understood, in nuanced ways.

It is not simply enough to wear the symbol of a faith on your arm, one must at least walk that lifestyle to truly consider themselves of that faith.

At the trial Scribe, I saw your Gods demand you demonstrate your faith to them at the cost of your own pride. You turned from them instead, holding your pride as higher than your faith.

That doesn’t make you a bad man. It makes you like most of us wandering this wide world. Just trying to bring meaning into an otherwise confusing and temporary existence.

You have to decide, do you actually wish to learn more about your faith in the Asgardians? To become what they wish you to be?

Or do you wish to go your own way? Knowing you give up power, but you also give up the chains to your own imprisonment to their rules about what is right and wrong…”

Scribe stood tall before both Loki and Uruf despite being half their sizes.

“As for why I sought your council it is quite simple, Lord Loki. You would have tormented and tortured those who did wrong, made them beg for death then denied them death’s sweet embrace.

I was sworn to obey and so sought your ruling on how to deal with a situation that went against everything I was taught. Now I will seek my own way, to protect those who entrust me with their lives.”

Loki laughed a little and then sat down before the mountain. He produced an apple from his sleeve and began to eat it. “Nothing quite like an apple on this forsaken planet, just nanye pears and binber fruit. Tasty, as tasty can be. But memory like an apple can never be replicated as well as desired. The fantasy as it were will always be greater than the reality, if you look at the truth of it.

Memories of all these little bastards dying in the names of the Asgardians. Makes you laugh to think of all those little feet upturned in their coffins.”

This steamed up Scribe even more, he stared at Loki about to say something, when the Silver tongue twisted it again.

“Of course its profane, profaning the sanctity of death? That is why I did not cry for Baldyr. All others cried but I just had to laugh. A laugh that cost me my freedom except in these moments between dreams where I walk among you.”

Uruf whispered to Yirhug, “When hes not in a summoned state, the Kuliek must be brought about in those first moments with thoughts that all the moments in between were horrible torment. This is a sadness in its way. It explains much of his anger and vehemence.”

“I can hear you green fur,” said Loki with a sneer, “And Loki will suffice not other…demeaning terms.”

Adept of GulTor’Uf began to chastise Loki for claiming to be a god of monsters, and yet he does nothing for them. Ending on the statement, “Vilifying one raised up to believe in you, because they are having a crisis of faith like a 3 year old throwing a tantrum.”

Loki asked, “Crisis of Faith, or Overwhelming Pride? And I do not believe that it is only appropriate for three year olds to throw tantrums. Emotional outbursts happen at all times in life. But they are even better when they profane places of sanctity and your courtrooms seem pretty sanctimonious to me. As for villifying, Scribe was already working with Giants who eat humans for food…or did Scribe not tell you that is what the Krato and their friends the Elogans do?”

Lurtor of Auf Lal’al knew letting the being feel disrespected would not help anything. Instead he took Scribe by the shoulder saying, Lurtor answers “Followers of a god do not need their gods’ presence for judgement, you should already know how they would rule and do not need to bother them. Then if they are displeased with your ruling, you will know. Keep gods out of most things. Safer for all that way.”

“And that was what I was trying to tell him the entire time,” said Loki with a giggle, “Do you know how many times the Asgardians made things worse for situations by getting involved? Too many to count. There wouldn’t even be a Ragnarok if our faith didn’t require a final battle and end to all ends and then a rebirth of the cosmos.

That is what I was trying to tell you Scribe. Calling upon the gods to help you out means you won’t see all the great ways you the individual could have made that situation better.

When times get tough, you have to get cunning, but you still have to care about those around you.

Enjoy the climb up.”

#3

Yirhug would keep his opinion to himself on the subject of Scribe’s faith. Faith was a personal matter, and Yirhug had outright rejected his own childhood faith. Then again, Yirhug had never been a priest of the faith in the Quall N’drone. He had learned since about the Dimension Walkers and their destructive deeds across the distant shores. And he didn’t like it.

He approached his faith in the Bladed Sun as an agreement to protect others from destructive and violent faiths while learning about all faiths equally.

Yirhug had hoped to learn more from Scribe about the Asgardians, but Scribe had been dismissive of him since he arrived. Living as a Red Fur in a Green Fur’s world, he wasn’t surprised he was treated as more of a danger than an ally.

Still it made him sad after all the good he had done in Drewsport, the majority of people outside of Drewsport just treated him like a betraying Red Fur.

The GulTor’Uf had invited him, and he still wanted to show friendship to them. And maybe Scribe would respect him a little more, if he helped out.

He carried all the ropes and hooks and climbing gear he collected in Drewsport, coiled up on his shoulders and back.

Off to his right he could see a Morgothian Dark Knight approaching. Having little desire to help out after hearing how ill people thought of the Morgothians, Sir Mag’Nrs the young olgog paladin thought to the tenets of his faith striving for honor and power. He approached them followed by 2 “controlled” daemonbeasts, just as those that would embark on this silly journey were going to make way. "Hail, Scribe of the Champions of Asgard. I have heard tales of how the Morgothians are viewed in these lands and wish to end these rumors once and for all. Morgothians seek honor above all else, and I wish to make you offer without request. Had you done more to reach out, would have seen you through to the end. God’s speed, whichever path you may follow. "

Uruf replied, “Morgothians do seek Honor above all else. Above Love, Above Peace, Above Friendship and Above Family. That Honor has cost thousands of lives, and sends more souls into Warmonger’s endless warscapes and brought evil and violence to countless lands. Your god is a fraud kid.”

The Dark Knight was about to reply when Yirhug said, “Please, if you are here to help, just help. We have a confusing enough religious discussion going on without adding Bladed Sun vs. Morgoth into the mix.”

“Agree,” said Uruf, “But after this…Morgothian…we will address you and your faith.”
Uruf then turned using the power of the Green Sword to carve a human-sized staircase into the side of the mountain to the first position.

Half way up the mountain, they reached the great tree that Loki had described. Leaning against it was an old man with an eye patch, and a pair of ravens on his shoulders. He was as gnarled as the tree behind him, and his remaining eye had a fickle gaze at it lingered on Scribe and his companions.

“I am Woden Allfather, and you have lost your way if you have come this far… champion…, the rest of you may have heard me called Odin. I have been called ruthless, but I am focused on self-actualization, above all other tasks. I gave this eye, so that I might see more. And I have died on this tree more times than I can count, only to be reborn again. I am one who seeks seidr, seeks forbidden and arcane knowledge for my own uses. I revel in conquest of that which denies my strength. I love the warrior who gives his all and dies in battle. Only then do I grant him the endless days of battle, so many on this strange midgard experience. I do not care for terms like justice…law…or peace. There is no justice but what I say is so. There is no law but my word and my decision at the moment. There can never be peace for only at war do men make worth of themselves. I stole poetry from the Jotunn, and spit it out which is why your kind even enjoys such a thing. I am the divine madness that is the heart of new creation.”

Scribe’s comrades remained silent until the old man finished his speech.

#4

“If you wish to follow Loki’s foolishness, do so, and your powers will return, Scribe. Or if you wish to do my bidding, you must slay the leader of the Cloud Slavers and disperse the rest from the mountains through cunning and wit. But then you must return here, and must have your comrades perform the blood eagle on you. You must stay on this tree until you live and die seven times, and then they may release you to my service.”

Adept of GulTor’Uf began to council against the blood eagle, even going so far as to tell Woden, “For a gog to die for a god, the god should show he is worthy to die for first. Not die first, then see if the god is worthy.”

Woden chuckled, “Really? Well you don’t know our faith well. Being crucified to the Tree is how I endlessly die and rise again as the seasons change. It is intrinsic to my nature and my story.”

“No, I agree with GulTor’Uf,” said Yirhug, “You first have to prove you are worthy of his worship before he dies for you, you don’t get that as a default.”

“Really?, Oh Really?” asked Woden, “Then let me show you my great power. I do not ask my worshippers to do anything I have not done already. Something I had done generations before the Earthers’ Christ. You know the crucifiction ritual Uruf?”

Uruf nodded his head, “I do.”

“Then I order you to show them how this is done,” said Woden, his arms extending to his sides, and the ravens taking flight.

He walked up to the tree and leaned back against it on his tippy toes.
The old man seemed almost comical as he leaned against the trees, except for the zeal in his good eye.
There was nothing comic about that zeal, it was true passion and belief.

Uruf sighed. He had a personal aversion to crucifiction as a method of execution, and even more so as an act of worship. First off it was horribly painful. Second it was kind of gruesome.
But when a God orders you to crucify him, you don’t say no. It’s simply not polite.

Uruf quickly and emotionally nailed the arms at the juncture just behind the wrists. It was high enough so the act of breathing quickly became hard for the old man to do, but he suffered stoically. Uruf leaned down and nailed the legs at the juncture of ankle and calf. If the old man put pressure on the legs, hobbling himself, and causing immense pain, he could gulp a few brief breaths.

Adept of GulTor’Uf said simply, “This is gruesome.”

“And decidedly Earther,” agreed Uruf, “Now I will stay here and watch over the Woden Tree. I wish you well Scribe and will await your return here, no matter what you decide to do.”

The Dark Knight of Morgoth used his Nightmares to begin clawing up the mountain side. They created hand-holds as they went. Behind them Yirhug summoned Earth elementals who used the hand-holds to climb up and begin creating secure tie-offs for ropes.

With Yirhug’s ropes they began their long climb up the second half of the mountain. Though equal in size, to the first half, it was deadly going. Traveling up the sheer rock face, secured by ropes, the party took nearly a day to reach the place where the winds became deadly.

At that place, one of the Dark Knight’s Nightmares was hurled from the cliff face. They watched the monster roll and flip as it fell towards the ground. It finally became so small as it dropped away from them that all they saw was when it burst against the ground below. Like a fly on a windshield, it had ruptured from the fall.

Yirhug began the work of tunneling into the cliff face. After he finished enough for them to find safety from the high winds, Lurtor created a large igloo and the entire party bedded down for the night.
They were so exhausted from the day’s climb, they didn’t say a word, and didn’t even bother eating beyond a few bites of Shash’lee Jerky.

The next day they didn’t realize morning had even come. Between the igloo and the rock of the tunnels around them, no light shined through. It was the sound of howling wind which changed as updrafts of noontime came on that woke them. They were still in pain, exhausted and tired from the previous day’s climb and now another day of it?

Scribe said, “Half a day wasted, lets get back to climbing.”

#5

Yirhug continued to tunnel with Scribe’s help. Inside the stone shaft they carved up to the top of the mountain they had to resume the pattern of having to cut handholds, and the earth spirit shape rope tie-offs from the stone, and Lurtor secure the ropes. This time they didn’t have the nightmares because they had disappeared from the Dark Knight’s view. Adept of GulTor’Uf took up the extra work creating spears of stone as hand-holds but the tiring climbing was getting to everyone. It was painful, backbreaking work. And all of them had never realized quite how physically exhausting this could be.

The Morgothian kept getting the feeling that someone or something was trailing them. But as Scribe served a trickster god, the Morgothian kept it to himself. Plus what worth would it be yelling that shadows were after them from down here. He did keep his weapon at the ready, just in case the shadows parted to reveal a real danger near him, but the shadows followed the path of Scribe’s group. Mag’Nrs suddenly understood why he always saw those EEF soldiers carrying around commcrystals.

He settled down again, hoping Scribe and his party would be safe up on the mountain. They had disappeared into their tunnels long ago, and the Morgothian could do little than wait.

Scribe and his comrades came to the top of the highest peak, well above the cloud-line. The winds were horrible and holding on, a constant struggle. As the clouds parted and the moonlight illuminated the mountaintop, Scribe’s comrades could see the cloud slaver settlement spread out around them. It was carved like shelves into the natural bowl-shaped depression with a final central spur of stone extending up to form the peak in the center of the bowl.

Each of the Cloud Slavers were quite large, and could probably wrestle a wild giant one on one. Their sky-blue scaled faces were broad, with snapping reptillian jaws filled with bone crushing teeth. Their eyes were set on the sides of their head, and flicked with regularity up and down searching for predators, though planet Refuge had few predators for these massive creatures. Their claws were able to latch onto just about any rocky surface with ease, even gripping ice and snow. A result of their evolution on a distant dimension known for its floating rocks, hurling through unknown orbits, or maybe falling forever, in an endless sky. They were mythically able to leap upon storms and ride them, altering their directions and course.

A trio of dirt paths lead from the edge of the mountain down through the shelved living areas and up to the peak at the center. At the top of the peak was a tent made from the skin of dead Cloud Slavers, and held up by their spinal cords and thigh bones. Inside the tent could not be seen, as eight Cloud Slavers stood back to back across its entrance. The Giant monsters were posed to see in all directions of attack. In their hands they strummed lightning back and forth, making sounds to entertain each other and sooth the rest of the camp. To those not cloud slavers the sounds were not soothing.

There are at least thirty smaller Cloud Slavers sleeping in the closest shelves and an unknown number spread out around them in the rest of the stone shelves, counted Scribes comrades after they snuck past the shelves to the tent at the peak and the eight imposing guards.

The whipcrack of thunder and the flashes of lightning dances across Scribe’s comrades as they shelter behind a stack of Mak Hoblok carcasses. They were in running distance of the giants… around them was stone, sky and storm.

Scribe turned to his comrades who had come so far with him. He knew he owed them so much. So much for their friendship, their assistance, and the pain and exhaustion of the long climb up.

He said, “Thank you for all your help Adept, Yirhug, and Lurtor. But I must confront the Giants alone and see if they seek peace. If they don’t I will try and signal to you and slash at their feet.”

#6

Scribe walked around the Mak Hoblok Carrion and approached the giant guards.

He carried the axe he had borrowed across his back, his other tools in pouches or his bag. Upon gaining the Giants attention he used the Leyas to allow him to speak, “Great being, I apologize for not knowing how your people wish to be called. I hope I may be allowed to speak with your leader, for I have urgent matters that we must take care of.”

The Giants spoke amonst themselves but one said, “What worry tiny little bird? He have no wings? He give big troubles with tiny axe, we make him fly away off mountain.”

Another agreed, “Come this way, tiny bird, and Chief of all Sky will see you.”

Scribe was led into the tent of the highest chief of the Cloud Slavers on these mountains. The beast was so large that Scribe was barely the size of its fist.

The guard said, “Tiny Bird want talk to Chief of all Sky. Chief, should I make tiny bird fly away?”

“No,” said the Cloud Slaver Chief, “I need big jokes to relieve pain in belly. Pain in belly from heartburn, Chief like roast Mak Hoblok maybe a little too much. What Tiny Bird say?”

“First off my name is not tiny bird, my name is Scribe,” said Scribe, “And I am here to tell you about my settlement to the north. We have places for different groups to fight out problems but in a way so everyone goes home to their families at the end and matters are sorted out.”

“This sounds like good place to raid,” said Cloud Slaver, “Take all food and peoples and eat them up. Take settlement as new great kingdom. No have stone skills like Falosini, no make great forts and castles. Maybe we take yours. Say something to make me laugh, Tiny bird.”

“My name is Scribe, but I do have a counter offer,” said Scribe, “Stay here, don’t attack my settlement and I’ll build you a great settlement of your own right here. One that will make the Falosini jealous.”

“No attack settlement AND get place here built like Falosini build? What catch?” asked Scribe.

“No catch,” said Scribe, “Just peace. I do for you and your place, you don’t attack my place.”

“Agreed,” said the Chief of the entire Sky, then he turned to the guards who had all overheard this exchange, “You go, all tell people good news. Tiny Bird build us homes like Falosini have, all we have do is not kill and eat Tiny Bird or Tiny Bird friends.”

Scribe and the guards left the tent. For Scribe it was a moment of accomplishment. He had achieved peace with the Cloud Slavers.

Then behind him he heard the sounds of crackling flesh and burning. He spun on his tiny heel and ran back into the room. He saw before him a cloaked assassin who seemed Earther lopping off the head of the Cloud Slaver Chief with a hand and a half sword. No…no…no, thought Scribe, our peace…no this is terrible.

The assassin stood there holding the massive head with both hands. It was simply enormous.

“What goes on here?” asked Scribe, “What treachery is this?”

Suddenly there was a flash of light and Loki stood before Scribe and the unknown assassin.

Loki lifted the head one handed as if it were as light as a balloon.

“Isn’t this convenient?” asked Loki, “You get your peace, I get my worshippers. I even let you go. Your friends did play an excellent trick on Woden, getting him to go up on the tree before the appointed season.

Go join your Bladed Sun Personality Cult. You may even keep a third of the blessings of our worship. But never again may you carry the the Staff of a Runecaster until the day you return to my service. While you may tattoo to your heart’s content, no longer will they be blessed with the blessing of a Runecaster.

But the power and language of Runes you may retain.

Now if you don’t mind, I have a Cloud Slaver to resurrect and train in my worship.”

Scribe watched with concern as the trickster disappeared with the Chief’s head. Outside Scribe could hear loud speaking. Scribe looked around and realized the Assassin had escaped as well.

He ran outside to see Lurtor and Yirhug and Adept of GulTor’Uf surrounded by Cloud Slavers looking angry with their lightning whips. Yirhug had already summoned a snapping angry fire spirit to their defense, and Lurtor had his huge pistols drawn.

Scribe put his hands up and said, “Wait wait.”

“Our chief is dead? Assassins in the night? Claiming to be friends?”asked the guards angrily.

Then Loki appeared on the far side of the clearing with Chief of the entire Sky behind him. Loki raised a hand and Chief bowed, pressing his big blue head against the dirt in deference of Loki.

“Great and powerful is Loki, great is his secret wisdom,” said the Cloud Slaver Chief, “All here must bow down. Great Loki brought Scribe to build us mighty kingdom walls. Scribe build walls, we keep winds away from Scribe’s settlement. This is deal Loki the great has brought me back to life to share. I live because he wills it.”

Never before had the cloud slavers had “gods” nor even bowed down. But as one they bowed their heads to the dirt. Lurtor and Yirhug and Adept looked on uncomfortably, they didn’t think the cloud slavers should be worshipping the Asgardians, but they also didn’t want to break the uneasy peace Scribe had brokered with the giants.

Scribe stood off at the side of the plateau, he had bought peace at the cost of building up a settlement here for the Giants. As long as effective construction went on the Cloud Slavers would maintain the peace between them and Scribe and even divert flamewinds and other destructive storms away from Scribe’s Arena.

#7

:cool:The Rewards:cool:

All players in this mission gain Climbing Skill 4 ( or skill +1 if they already had Climbing Skill 4 or higher)

Scribe gains Bladed Sun Devotion lvl 1 = Runecaster lvl 1.
Scribe does not regain level 2 or 3 of Runecaster but may now learn devotions from other faiths by learning about them and traveling with their members.
He may also choose to study one additional devotion (but must contact a player character of that faith to learn the other devotion. (options include: Kalok, Krodnok, Thunder Gods, Morgothians, Kasanthians, and Church of One Paladin)
He is also now responsible for building the Cloud Slavers a settlement at the Der’Yyan Mountains for them, (not for his allies) and in exchange he gets lifetime protection for Scribe’s Arena from the storms.

Uruf gains Bladed Sun Devotion +1 = Runecaster lvl 1.

Yirhug gains Bladed Sun Devotion +1 = Runecaster lvl 1.

Sir Mag’Nrs gains a Lightning Proof Cloak. This cloak is made from the hide of a Cloud Slaver who fell from the top of the mountain during the night. It gives wearer Takes half dmg from Electrical attacks.

Black Lorne gains Loki’s Blessings. This Blessing will allow him to sneak into and out of a single location without anyone knowing it is him, nor recognize him. Single use mission reward.
Does not protect against City Effect weapons!!

GulTor’Uf gains Adept has access to a whole city of potential Giant friends he can visit.
A) as long as he doesn’t offend their Loki Worship and B) as long as he helps Scribe finish work on the Cloud Giant Citadel of Deryyanheim.
Adept also gains Religion skill of 4.

Lalder gains Lurtor can choose to learn Bladed Sun Devotion lvl 1, Morgothian Devotion lvl 1, Champions of Asgard Devotion lvl 1 or Krodnok devotion lvl 1.