A CLASH OF GODS AND GIANTS

Part II

By C. William Russette

A wisp of smoke trailed Mjolnir as Thor lowered his hand to his side. More than a small part of the Thunder God wanted Durok to be destroyed. Not just because he proved to be a tasking foe but because he was keeping Thor from his mission. Loki needed to be found and captured before he released the mysterious item or weapon the Allfather hid in Hel ages ago.

Why it was hidden here was as much a mystery… Thor caught something out of the corner of his eye. A beam of green shot across the desolate landscape towards Hela’s palace.

“Is that you, brother?” Thor whispered.

The ground began to shake. The sound of searing air screamed at Thor. He raised his hammer to shield himself from the blow with no time to spare. Durok charged. He fired bolt after bolt of murderous energy. Thor blocked or smashed aside every attempt as the Demolisher drew ever nearer.

Durok crashed into the Thunder God dashing him to the bone-gravel. Hel’s grim palace, Eljudnir, centerpiece of the city where those who died of sickness, old age and the dishonorable were housed, shook when Thor struck it. Thor slipped to the ground stunned.

“Rarely have I been struck with such a force, silent demolisher. Truly your name is apt.”

Thor rose and spun his hammer. The ground shook as Durok charged forward. He did not move like a being that had exchanged blows with a god. His endurance seemed indefatigable. His energy was without end. Faster and faster Thor spun his hammer, whose name means millstone and crusher.

“Long will the bards sing of the battle when the first-born son of Odin clashed with the blackguard Durok at the gates of Hel’s capital.”

When the Demolisher was in range, as the lightning and power that was his birthright singed his hand, Thor loosed his hammer. Durok held only one thing in his mind. There was only one thing that mattered. Thor had to be destroyed and everything that he did was bent to that end. When Mjolnir blasted its way through the cold, dank air, Durok leapt over the missile.

Thor’s surprise was apparent. So too was his frustration-born rage. Durok struck, as did Thor, and their fists crashed together like the tempestuous sea and the cliff side. The destructive wave brought down Hel’s wall and blasted the remains of the dishonored dead to powder. The shockwave lasted for miles before dissipating.

Neither being fell under the onslaught. The fisticuffs were immediate and devastating. Blow after blow each punished one another. Thor stood a moment longer than he needed to and Durok came in hard and devastating, driving Thor to his knees. The thunder god stared beyond the Demolisher.

“To me, Mjolnir,” Thor whispered.

Durok heard the missile before moving to avoid it. In the throes of battle he forgot the hammer was even thrown. The air around the hammer sparked and burned as it returned to Thor’s hand.

The masonry of the damaged structures kept falling as Thor took to the air in search of Durok. There would be no point in seeking Loki until Durok was put down. As he had learned so oft in the past, the creature born of Norn magic was nigh impossible to overcome.

An idea came to Thor. He searched the city for what he sought. Twin beams of energy burned out of shadow into Thor and the god fell. Durok was fast at the site of the god’s landing. Hammer and fists clashed and fell. Thor knew he was not going to last much longer. If the plan was going to work it would have to be initiated immediately.

“No! Thor, you have no right to even be in my realm. This assault on my Eljudnir cannot be forgiven. You will not leave my city!” Hela screamed.

Black beams scorched forth from her hands.

Thor’s hammer spun ever faster and deflected the energy, which tore loose more black and gray brick and mortar of Hela’s somber city. A blow sank into Thor’s ribs, breaking many. Thor backhanded Durok with Mjolnir, sending the Demolisher to devastate the cityscape further.

Hela released blazing blue bursts of flame. Thor struck the ground with his hammer and lightning struck Hela from Hel’s grim sky. Faster and faster Thor spun the hammer over his head and the gray-scape around them darkened. The winds howled for miles. Great hailstones flew free, punching fist-sized holes in all buildings. The temperature dropped and kept falling.

Durok stood slowly. So great was the snowstorm that struck even he could not move easily. It took a considerable amount of Hela’s power to remain upright and aloft. Durok took one slow, purposeful step after another towards the eye of the storm. Ice formed on both goddess and monster. Still lower did the temperature drop. Only after a thick coating of ice stopped both in their tracks did Thor command the storm to cease.

“You brought this on yourself, corpse-wife! Do not bother me with your grumbling.”

Thor took to the air again and spied the skymark he sought. The ice coating will hold neither one of them for long. There is no chance that I would make the palace proper before Hela or Durok struck me down. Both would then assault me with only one outcome. No, I must end this so that I will face one or the other. From the gray-black clouds that forever covered Hel, Thor saw the great root of the World Ash called Yggdrasil.

Higher still did Thor fly. He drew closer to the great root that touched Hel within the realm Niffleheim. Twin beams of energy lanced from the ground and struck Thor true in the back. The God of Thunder fell back to Hel. He landed beyond the city-palace of Hela.

Magni, grown son of Thor and Sif from an alternate dimension, wiped the gore from his face and matted long, black hair. He could not stop a smile from appearing. This was truly what he was born to do. He fought for honor and the name of his father. He was driven to make Thor proud and protect Asgard from its eternal enemies.

A great stone axe came down in the frozen hands a frost giant. Magni shattered it with a single blow from his mace: Thunderstrike. The young Aesir swung his mace and then loosed it. The giant took the hit on the chin, his head snapped back, his neck broken. He fell to the ground lifeless. The mace slapped into its master’s hand.

The Asgardian group commanded by Magni, fought just as bravely. Magni reveled in the cry of battle and screams of dying jotun. He took up a barbed spear that fell from a giant’s hand and hurled it through a frost giant’s head. Men under his command each threw the two spears they carried then drew axes. For the close work, swords and daggers and maces were best. No weapon on the battlefield went without tasting blood.

Unfortunately some of the fallen, too many, were of the host as well. The Silent God: Vidar, giant son of Odin, Magni’s uncle, amazed him by getting as many kills as he did. This made Magni very proud. He wished his father could see this glorious battle.

The thunder boomed. Magni felt the blast and was elated. His father had returned from Hel victorious! Many exclaimed excitement at the coming of the Thunder God. Yet no where in the sky could Magni see his father. Again thunder exploded and was followed by lightning. The clouds overhead lit up with sheet lightning revealing the horrible truth of the coming storm.

There was a reason for Magni not being able to feel the thunder his father called down. Thor did not call down this thunder. Huge silhouettes filled the sky, descending from the dark clouds. Magni was first to shout the warning.

“Storm giants!”

“Speak truly, Guardian. What do you see?” Tyr commanded from the wall.

“Magni speaks true! Storm giants descend to pick up where the Frost Giants failed!

“Prepare for battle as though it were Ragnarok! Storm Giants come to taste Asgardian steel! No prisoners! No mercy!” Tyr shouted to those still behind the wall.

The Warriors Three, Frey and Sif called their groups of Aesir into tight, organized formations. It took great effort on everyone’s part to keep the warriors under their command, so frenzied was their desire to meet the enemy in battle.

“Warlord, hear me. The lightning has a reek to it. There is a shaman among them,” Heimdall offered.

“I had wondered how they kept such bodies in the sky! He must be our target. Fight beside me, Heimdall! Let us teach these monsters why we rule the Nine Realms!” Tyr orated.

Their massive bodies screamed as they blistered to the ground from on high. Sheer tendrils of wind buffeted the Aesir. Many sought the bodies of fallen frost giants for respite from the torment. Great stones of hail blasted the Aesir, sending many scrambling to avoid being crushed. The rain that dropped was a deluge of epic proportions. All through this the Storm Giants hacked and stomped and laughed their way through the annihilation of the Asgardians daring to stand against them.

Magni struck the hailstone, making it into so much ice shavings. A Jotun of the storm crashed to the ground before the young god. No leather armor did this giant wear, but metal plate. It bore a metal axe and not one of wood. There was a focus to its eye that no frost giant save Ymir ever possessed. The axe came down with the chuckle from its wielder.

Thunderstrike met the axe and blasted it out of the monster’s hand. The resonating noise made both warrior and giant grimace. Magni leapt and struck, breaking the giant’s leg. The great humanoid fell howling. Magni leapt upon his chest and brought the mace down with everything he had. A great shattering of bone was heard.

“I don’t hear your laughter anymore, Jotun of the storm. Does Thunderstrike not amuse you?”

“Insolent bug!” a storm giant shouted.

The storm giant’s face bore a gouge from mouth to ear. He drove a spear for Magni who leapt on the shaft and ran for the Jotun holding it. The massive monster swatted but Magni knocked the blow aside. He loosed Thunderstrike and it punched a hole into one eye and out the back of the giant’s head. Magni leapt to the ground, caught the returning mace and sought a fresh, hopefully more challenging, foe.

Shield-maiden Sif watched as her troop were impaled on shards of ice summoned by a pair of storm giants. The air was freezing even before the ice started forming due to the extreme freezing wind. Visibility was next to nothing with the wind and mist swirling all about them. The Jotun are smarter than their cold cousins, Sif thought.

“Warriors of Asgard! Shield wall!” Sif commanded.

A dozen in front dropped to a crouch with shields raised. The row behind raised their shields as did the third row forming a solid front. The ice shattered on impact with the shields.

“Forward,” Sif ordered from the center of the formation.

She had never led a formation before. Sif liked it. These warriors were well disciplined though they marched uphill in the fast forming mud. The smell of blood and sweat and rain made for a pleasing combination. Sif understood why Thor always made for the thick of conflicts that came to be.

The Warriors Three, even Volstagg, sent their respective troops into battle in similar formations. Sif could see Fandral’s grin despite the storm. Then in a flash of lightning, Fandral was gone! A score of the troop he was leading also disappeared in black smoke.

Sif looked further up the plane to see a Storm Giant clad in bones of the great beasts in Jotunheim. Furs of the kills wrapped his legs and forearms. He commanded the storm with a staff of wood. Another bolt and a third of Fandral’s troop were no more.

“Vidarr, Hogun, the shaman at the top of the hill is the mark! We must stop him before we lose anyone else!” Sif shouted.

No one could hear her over the cacophony of storm and war.

The Tree, Yggdrasil, was the universe and it connected many of the realms together at the same time. It was where Odin hung for seven days to gain ultimate wisdom. It was almost the oldest thing in the Nine Worlds. It wa certainly the most important. At the top was a great eagle with a hawk standing between its eyes. Four stags dwelled there as well. The squirrel Rattatosk ran up and down the World Ash spreading lies and rumors between the eagle and the great wyrm at the base. The wyrm at the bottom, the dragon Nidhogg, gnawed endlessly on the root of the Great Ash and cleaned his teeth with the bones of the dead.

Thor had not yet picked himself up off the ground when the shattered bones of the dead jumped. Durok again stood before him. His rage was undeterred by their battle so far. His hands glowed fiercely with energy yet to be released.

“This is finally going to be your end, Odinson. You will be mine forever when Durok is finished with you. Surrender and it will be quick.” Hela slowly descended from above.

“Lay down? To die a coward’s death, Lokidottr? That would ensure I join you forever in this dreary place. No, I think not. Let your pet do his worst. Thor will not be found wanting!”

Thor hurled his hammer at Hela with power enough to reduce a mountain to dust. The goddess of the dead was in her realm and nearly untouched by the day’s battle. She avoided the flung weapon.

Durok released twin beams of death at Thor. The Odinson marched forward, directly into the blast. His forearm ahead of him to deflect some of the damage, he slowly plodded forward to be within reach of the Demolisher.

“You must be tired, Durok! Are your limbs too weak from battle to fight as a true warrior-born?” Thor roared.

Durok stopped blasting. Smoke rolled off the Thunder God’s flesh as he caught the ever-returning Mjolnir. Durok charged, as did Thor. The impact made the palace walls shudder again and again.

Thor leaped as Durok released his devastating beams of energy from his hands. Something grumbled like boulders grinding away at one another. Thor had landed on the other side of Durok. He spun his hammer a few rotations and landed an uppercut to the Demolisher’s chin with Mjolnir, blasting him off his feet and into the fog that surrounded the palace-city.

Thor heard Durok strike something. He walked after him casually.

“Odinson,” a voice resonated with power, “You are bold indeed.” It was a booming voice that Thor felt in his chest.

Thor stepped from the fog and beheld the root of the great ash growing out of the ground. The root was as thick as a Jotun’s chest. At the base was a vast gray dragon with black-rimmed scales and silver claws as long as the thunder god’s arm. Being this close to a primal being much older than Thor or Allfather Odin even, pimpled the god’s skin. The crushed bones of an uncountable number of bodies were the nest it rested upon. Many knobs of the root of Yggdrasil were worn bare from the dragon’s constant gnawing. Durok could not move from under the fore-limb of the dragon. He blasted the ancient wyrm with one free hand but without effect.

“Well met, Nidhogg,” Thor said from a distance.

“How dare you throw your pathetic foe at me while I am eating,” Nidhogg said.

“You are always eating, Lord Wyrm. When would a good time be to test your mettle?”

The dragon shot to its full height, thirty men tall, and its stare bore into Thor, making his neck hairs stand up. Noxious fumes belched from the dragon’s mouth as it spoke.

“You would test me, little god? Even Buri kept his distance. What chance would you have?”

“Pray you never have to find out, dragon. Greater things call to me at this time. Seek me out if you can ever leave your nest of the bones of murderers and thieves. Sup on Durok there. It is said that he is immortal and nothing can kill him. Prove yourself the superior warrior if it suits you,” Thor taunted.

Then Nidhogg’s face was inches from the Odinson. There was no time between thought and motion. The great maw could have swallowed the thunder god in one. The dragon’s breath was that of the long-buried dead and burning mistletoe.

“Why not try your arm now, stripling? What can save you from me here in Hel’s domain?”

“The Fates I should think. We are not at the end of the cycle. Ragnarok has yet to come, though Loki seeks it sure enough. The Norns: Urd, Verandi and Skald, have a strand for you in their loom as well. Dare you, can you, disobey the Norns that control all? Who is stronger, dragon? Nidhogg, malice striker, or the Norns?” Thor questioned.

The dragon held Thor’s eye for a beat more then rose and faced the sky, blasting black-green smoke. Nidhogg’s horrible jaws shot down and bit into Durok. The elder wyrm snapped the Demolisher into its maw and chewed and crushed and rent.

Thor turned his back, spun his hammer and took flight. He had just cleared the perpetual fog when green energy lanced at him. It took all his speed to get his hammer spinning fast enough to shield himself.

“Hela!” Thor exclaimed.

“Enough, Thor! The savage destruction of my realm ends now! Stay forever or flee as the coward I know you to be,” Hela commanded.

Vidar hurled his last spear. The storm giant batted it aside with his enormous sword. Many of the spears thrown by his troop found their mark. None caused near the damage that he hoped for. Vidar drew axe pole arm and led the charge to the closest giant.

Among the Aesir, Vidar was a giant, standing nearly ten feet tall. He was still only a third of the height of the storm giants. It did not deter him. He strode up and took off the giant’s leg below the knee. The giant fell howling. The troop swarmed at their enemy. The end came quickly.

“Teams of ten! Do not break before their storms and ice! For Odin!” Vidar roared and charged to the next enemy.

Vidar smashed the steel spear of his foe aside and charged inside the giant’s range. He slammed the axe into the enemies groin and jerked it free. When the giant squealed and doubled over, Vidar cut off his head.

“You dare return to Asgard while Vidar lives, Storm Giant?” Vidar shouted at the rocking head at his feet.

“I could kill a thousand of your kind and it would not ease my fury for the death of my wife. Let us see how many it will take, monsters.

“Break away and bring them down, sons of Asgard!” Vidar shouted and ran on.

“Warlord, are you certain of the wisdom here?” Heimdall said.

Tyr seated himself in the bucket of the catapult. A shield on his handless arm. His rune-etched sword in his right hand.

“This is war. Anyone that sees the wisdom of it is a fool. I know of no other way faster to that damned warlock. None can shoot truer than the Guardian of Bifrost. Make certain of your aim nonetheless, Heimdall. I’d rather not miss the fight because I fell into the Abyss of Nothingness.”

“Very well, Warlord. When you are ready then,” Heimdall said.

He took a two-handed grip on the release and waited.

“Odin let your aim be true. The word is given!”

Heimdall launched Tyr, god of battle and justice. He flew over the great wall of Asgard with his weapon ready. The battle stretched out under him as he flew well out of reach of even the titanic storm giants. Few even took notice. The frost giants were wiped out but they had injured the Aesir. Only the lords (and ladies) remained stalwart, still commanding and leading from the front. That pleased the God of Justice.

The one foe that he did not want to notice his elevated position was the storm shaman that hurled the weather as easily as Thor might. The shaman roared at the incoming Tyr and raised his staff of wood. White lightning blazed through the air. Tyr raised his shield with no time to spar.

The lightning devastated the enchantments on the shield. It exploded off his left arm. He led with sword extended like an arrow. Again the shaman roared. Tyr thought he heard some frustration this time.

Torrential winds slammed into Tyr, flinging him into an uncontrolled fall. No longer would he spear the enemy from on high. Tyr could do nothing but crash into the side of the clifftop well away from the shaman.

The last thing Tyr heard before impact was Sif calling his name.

Magni leapt from a storm giant as it fell to the ground with its head split open. Not everyone was faring so well. Both Hogun’s and Volstagg’s troops were in complete disarray but those that could yet fight continued to do so. Vidar slaughtered the storm giants like a man possessed. This troop was reduced to a third of its strength but fight on they did. It pleased Magni to see such bravery. The Aesir from his own realm had fought just as bravely. In the end he did not think that it amounted to anything when the Fates decide it is time for Ragnarok.

The Strength God was about to lead his troops, still at half strength, to Vidar’s side to merge the groups into one. He heard Sif scream further up the field of battle.

“Tyr!” Sif shouted.

She faced her troop, shield maidens all, and commanded them like a warrior-born.

“Spears! Clear the road to their sorcerer! Aim! Loose!”

The entire troop hurled great spears, rune-carved and sharp like only a warrior race can make a blade. All hit a storm giant hide. Sif waited a moment after everyone else before throwing her own spear. Thinking the attack was finished, the shaman was unprepared for the one weapon aimed only for him. Sif’s spear passed through the giant’s trunk and struck the ground, pinning him in place.

The storm shaman howled and with hate in eyes called down the lightning.

“Shield wa-” Sif was cut off when the vicious bolt took her and blasted her through her troop.

She slid to a stop and did not move. Tendrils of smoke drifted lazily off her still form.

“Sif!” Magni shouted.

Loki flew to the palace of Hela. Guards on the drawbridge and the road that lead to it did not see Loki as he passed among them. He slammed the portcullis behind him, locking out confused soldiers of Hel.

Even through his Jotun skin Loki felt the cold and desperation of the very walls and stone floor around him. What did she make these bricks of? There were no mountains in Hel.

The God of Mischief paused in flight and concentrated. A complex glyph of forbidden rune-craft appeared before him. Loki exhaled black smoke into it and a green beam of energy shot forth. Loki grinned and followed the trail only his eyes could see.

Loki landed within Hela’s throne room and allowed himself to be seen. He would need all his energy if he was going to achieve the impossible. The circular room was hundreds of feet high, possessing dozens of alcoves holding stone warriors. In the center of the great chamber was a dais but where one might expect to find an elaborate throne of gold or silver there stood a minimalist throne of wood.

“Curious, daughter,” Loki said.

The hid-away statues of stone began to move simultaneously. Loki tilted his head and smirked. The Fire God drew runes in the air and froze them all at once in a dense wall of ice.

“Tedious.” Loki approached the throne from directly in front of it.

A hundred spears were loosed from above in hidden portals. Loki cast a golden shield that stopped every projectile. They fell to the floor when the shield dropped. He was slightly impressed that some of the speartips broke through his shield. He was tired indeed from his journey.

Loki took the first step upon the dais and instantly felt a weakness overwhelm him. He fell. There was nothing he could do to prevent it. He managed to fall away from the center of the dais back to the stone floor. His strength slowly started returning. Clearly there is some kind of age-accelerating enchantment at work.

“How dare you, Hela.” Loki fired an eldritch blast destroying the wooden throne.

He picked up a piece of the shattered throne.

“Ash wood? You carved Hel’s throne from the World Ash, the Tree of Life itself?” Loki allowed a genuine grin to manifest, “I like that.”

Again Loki worked the runes in the air and fired on the dais itself. The intricate pattern of knots and runes appeared on the dais, no longer hidden beneath a false façade.

“Good. The final seal. The real challenge. The door to that which I seek.”

To be continued!