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A Cold Wind Blows

Nestled at the top of this mountainous peak, a giant in darkened armor rouses from his rest. His armor was covered in a black ice that ran down to his gauntlets as they shone with a light blue hue. Wiping his face, he grunted and started to move his body as he knew his brother would want to speak with him. It was a daily occurrence at this point. This giant was a warrior through and through, only carrying the bare essentials that he needed in the burlap sack that rested by his side. A jagged bastard sword that was meant for creatures larger than himself was placed on his back.

Standing at a comfortable sixteen feet tall and moving at his own pace, he left the tent. There was no reason for him to unequip his armor during times like this. No one would know when his brother would flip a switch and pick one of them to spar with. Prepared or not, a frost giant must always be ready for combat. One tent in particular was quite large as braziers were lit outside. Their flames battled against the harsh winds and temperatures that permeated the top of this mountain range. His breaths were deep as the air pushed out of his lungs.

With one final deep breath, he pushed aside the flap of this large tent that expanded into a large dining room with a firepit. On the other side, sat his brother atop an ivory throne that was crafted from the rare materials that the southern merchants traded. An overnight celebration had been underway for quite some time as other giants ate or drank even now at the break of dawn. A celebration for the good haul that they’ve made in recent times.

Goblinoids in ragged clothing and chains would serve them food and drink although little at a time. Only hobgoblins made suitable slaves to them and those weren’t too useful in the realms of service. One of the giants stood up and attempted to hand him a horn of ale, “Take it Cangvar, your brother says you're becoming more breedable than a tusker. Can’t taste good alcohol?”

He growled back, “Shove that in my face again and I’ll slam it through your eye.” The drunk knew not to tempt Cangvar any further as he laughed and sat back down. Afterall, he was the only one who could go toe to toe with Strixius and survive. The average frost giant would stand at fourteen to fifteen feet, while Strixius stood at a whopping eighteen feet. His buddy tapped the drunk on the shoulder, “Some say he’s got the blood of the old gods in him. Both of em’, destined to go at it till the end of time.”

Cangvar walked up to the throne. Only his lips and his glowing blue eyes could be seen through his helmet. He frowned as he looked towards his brother, it was an unsightly image to behold. Strixius had three female frost giants at his beck and call, living a life of debauchery. Even when he fought, he wore no shirt and kept fine furs for what could be called pants. Across his knuckles were three claws that he used as weapons. Taking them on and off was as simple as using a glove.

“Oh, little brother,” Strixius’ voice seemed insincere as its pitch changed to a higher tone. “I was told that you slept all night and refused to take your armor off again.”

“Good,” Cangvar’s frozen breath fell over Strixius and his concubines, “that makes me smart.”

Strixius couldn’t help himself as a hand ran along a woman who sat on the arm of his throne, “No alcohol and no women makes you weak brother.”

“Some jarl you are,” He looked at the three women, “surrounded by whores who you know not their names.”

The women tried to protest before Strixius put his hand up, “I love our warm talks, brother. Just for today, we don’t need a contest of strength. I’ve got a job for you, a special one only you can do.” Cangvar did not respond as he continued to stare daggers towards the other giants who were looking at him. Strixius toyed around, “Good, you accept the challenge from your jarl. There is an overly annoying bird that keeps squawking up on that damn mountain next to us. It’s gonna kill all of our damn goats at this rate. You can take care of this.” The other frost giants laughed at the absurdity of it all as they hollered to one another.

Cangvar was used to petty tasks being thrusted upon him as he gnashed his teeth. “Not honoring my pride as a warrior will lead you to an early grave.”

All of the commotion in the room came to a dead silence as all eyes were focused on the back of the tent. Strixius stood up as he cracked his knuckles in his neck and head. He knew what was to come next. Faster than most people could see, Strixius thrusted his fist towards the jaw of Cangvar with all of the might he could muster. With no attempt to resist, he held his ground as the punch landed square onto him. A shockwave from the blow went through the room and settled down in an instant. Some of the ice that covered Cangvar’s helmet broke and fell to the floor. His blue flesh became purple as he readjusted his jaw.

However, he did not break Cangvar with that blow. There was no backlash or feedback to the strike. Content with the damage he dealt, Strixius sat down once more. “You don’t threaten your jarl if you want to live very long. Go along now, do your task. Durable little bastard.” Knowing that the beatings would only continue until morale improved, Cangvar remained stoic as he left the tent and began to look for whatever large creature was hunting the goats.

He was around long enough to deal with these creatures before. They were certainly croakers. They have this terrible shriek as they fly to make their prey scatter. Once the prey separates, a croaker simply swoops down for a snack. Any frost giant would’ve been fine to kill this creature though. Hatred burned deep within Cangvar as he looked for the creature. His jarl is supposed to lead the clan through hardship, not fall prey to hedonism and self-indulgence.

Upon closer inspection, he could see the bodies of several slain goats nearby. If he was lucky, this would only take an hour or two as only went to the next rise in the mountain. In the distance, the cries of the creature rang out and seemed to travel for miles confirming his suspicions. With any amount of luck, the creature would be inside of a cave eating at the moment or stockpiling items. They had a bit of a habit of picking up shiny objects and giving the items to their kin. Slowly, it started to get warmer as well from the sun bearing down on him.

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At the top of this rise, a small plateau stretched out in a few hundred feet in every direction. A sizable cave entrance could be seen as Cangvar spotted bones littering the outside that seemed to be haphazardly placed. With a single hand, he drew the large blade from his back as it radiated a chilling aura. Step by step, he walked into the large opening for this cave and stepped without a desire to conceal himself. While he could see with small amounts of light to guide his way, the need for some kind of illumination did exist. It came in the form of a soft blue light that extended for fifteen feet out from his blade.

That’s when he saw it, a seven foot tall avian creature with three heads that greedily ripped apart two goats that it had stolen earlier. Too busy with its kill, it seemed wholly unaware that anything else was in the cave. Cangvar confirmed it was a croaker with a grunt as he charged the creature with his bastard sword. One slice and it would be carved in half from the strength of the frost giant. One of the heads upon the croaker turned and screeched in the direction of Cangvar as it tried to take control of its body.

However, their startled nature meant that they couldn’t leave in time as one of their wings was sliced, thudding onto the ground below. Frost stretched around the wound and froze the fallen body part. With strength remaining, the croaker let out a fearsome screech that could be heard for miles as they clamped into the legs of the frost giant with their beaks. Cangvar only grunted as he pierced his bastard sword through the center of the creature and twisted the blade ninety degrees. Silently, the creature fell against the floor of the cave as he examined his armor. Not a single mark was left by the creature. Kneeling, he closed the eyes of the partly eaten goats before checking to see what this creature stole.

Plenty of coins and treasures no doubt were taken from a merchant’s caravan at some point. Even jewel encrusted blades made for the humans were here as well. Using another sack that the croaker dragged in, he started to transfer the wealth into the sack. As he started to wrap up that process, he stopped and clutched the blade laying on the floor. Small footsteps could be heard making their way into the cave as he stood up and looked towards the entrance. Lights danced maybe a hundred feet away as they stopped and noise could be heard. Seven figures could be seen and one especially stood out to Cangvar. He tilted his head slightly at the sight of a figure made of sinew and flesh standing eight feet tall.

A black tengu kept igniting and throwing torches along the cave as one landed next to Cangvar. Each of the humanoids had a different set of equipment that they appeared to use. “Strange,” Cangvar muttered under his breath. There had been adventurers that he had killed before, but this was one of the weirder compositions that he had seen in a while. He waved his hand over his armor as blue light shone and the ice intensified along the edge of his armor and gauntlets.

One of the humanoids said something as they sliced their hand onto a halberd. A flame raced along the edge of the blade as Cangvar grabbed a boulder from his satchel. He hurled it towards the tengu as it flung its body to evade the attack. Quickly, a front line appeared as he could make out a dwarf and two clerics waiting for him to make the first move. With a bit of commotion, Cangvar could recognize them using different languages to try and communicate with him. However, the only one who got close to something recognizable was the dwarf as he used a similar word structure to the tongue of the giants. It was a jumbled mess of words as far as that attempt went.

Cangvar knew the ultimate truth of the world. Those who die, train their killer and he needed to train if he was ever to kill Strixius. He charged the front line and crashed his blade upon the dwarf. The dwarf attempted to use a flail as he slammed into the leg of the frost giant and cracked the ice that covered his leg. However, he wasn’t prepared for the mighty swing of the giant as Drake placed himself between the giant and Gaulk. Raising his shield, Drake braced for impact and stiffened his body.

A sharp, crunching noise could be heard as ice shards went flying in different directions. Drake yelped as his arm became dislocated from the force of the blow. He had to fall back and allow Adelia to heal him. Stokrar didn’t let this moment pass as he took a stance, causing the brittle cave floor beneath his feet to create fault lines. With two hands, he used this stored kinetic energy as he plunged the blade into the side of the frost giant and Cangvar moaned. Steam rose from the wound as fire connected with ice and caused a sizzling noise to pop out.

Instinctively, Cangvar kicked and propelled Stokrar into the stoneworks behind him. Blood could be seen trickling down from his full plate helm as he laid upon the wall wordlessly. Cederic glanced at his comrade as he debated what to do. In a moment like this, the front line could fall should a single misstep happen. With a quick prayer to the gods, he lifted his shield and prepared for what was to come. Gaulk and Doppel surrounded the giant whilst Cederic held the eyes of the creature.

However, the giant had a new target in mind. An irritant from the back of the group repeatedly casting hexes and debilitations was causing him to lose the conflict in a broader sense. Picking up a boulder from his satchel, he flung it towards the black mage as it connected with its target. The black mage couldn’t respond quick enough as it slammed into shoulder, causing him to writhe on the ground in pain.

With his abilities reduced, the three front liners did a triangular assault on his body. Each time he would turn and strike one of them, another would already be assaulting him. In frustration, Cangvar opened his mouth and roared an icy breath into Cederic. The metal stuck to Cederic’s skin as he could feel a burning sensation across his body. While all of this confusion took place, Stokrar could be seen as he peeled himself out of the wall. His blade reignited with an intense flame as a blood-curdling roar came from his direction.

Cangvar was ready for the charge as he brought his bastard sword up to cleave the man in half. However, swift movements from Gaulk allowed his flail to wrap around the leg of the giant as it stumbled. Handling the force of being pulled away by Gaulk and pushed by Doppel, it required an immense amount of energy to hold his ground. He couldn’t find a good steady stance as he swung mightily in the direction of a charging Stokrar. At the last moments of conflict, arrows blotted out his vision as he flinched away from them. With a flurry of his flaming blows, Stokrar whittled away at the frost in the frost giant’s armor. While it appeared that the giant was on death’s door, he found the inner strength to drop his weapon and grab Stokrar by the arm. The magical platemail that Stokrar wore and shone brightly was being compressed and frozen by this giant. A crunch of metal could be heard through his endured pain as he tried to power through the injury. In his native tongue, the frost giant muttered a few last words before he hit the ground.

As fast as the conflict was engaged, it suddenly ceased as well. Most of the party sustained injuries as Adelia and the clerics tried to tend to one another. Volodar used blood magic to revitalize some of Stokrar’s body. Mangled limbs of the party would have to be tended to with days of rest and magical restoration before they could brave any more of the frost giant camp. Volodar concentrated on the task at hand although his left arm was unusable at the moment. Looking at the corpse of Cangvar, he couldn’t help to feel a connection from the way he fought. He was as fearless in combat as Doppel or Hunter. That frost giant would be the first of his kind in what Volodar wished to do next.