Bifrost #8 – Origins of Legends

‘So THIS puny(?) human is the one who stole Aurora? Praise be to Jormag that you came to us. A good brawl is always preferable to simply loosing the hounds.’ The last words were spat out as he slammed his staff into the ground, and 2 wolf-heads of ice streamed from the sky towards Marla, baying like hounds on the chase. The woman countered with the fireball she still held, turning both projectiles(?) to slush. Another tremor flew past Jenny. Marla slammed the butt of the turquoise staff into the ground, sending a man-sized boulder flying towards the shaman. With contemptuous(?) dismissal, his left arm shattered the attack with a swift slap, sending fragments into the reawakened(?) battle in the town centre. Thrusting his bone staff like a spear, the shaman sent a black lance soaring through the town towards Marla at the eastern gate. A gust of wind cold even through this blizzard swept by Jenny. A half-dome of clear ice formed in front of the elementalist, barely stopping the lance in its path. The clear ice in Marla’s shield seemed to take in the colour of the lance, collapsing into a pile of black-and-blue ice. Whipping her hand forward, Marla sent a hail of ice arrows towards the old norn, but it was clear from Marla’s surprised expression that she had seen what Jenny saw too. The ice that former her arrows was black and blue. Where they struck the shaman’s body, they melted onto him, forming more patches of black-and-blue ice-armour. A laughter erupted from him that would have been hearty indeed, had it not sounded like the roar of a winter-blizzard. ‘Fighting a chosen of the mighty Jormag with ice and snow? You make a fine jest, woman. Kolvirr’s the name. Kinfailer they call me in that cozy brewery they call ‘Hoelbrak’, but here, among the truly blessed, I am called Beastfather. And that staff,’ Kolvirr’s icy left arm pointed at the turquoise staff. ‘ belongs to Svanir’s heirs, not to some meddlesome conjurer.’ In response, a man-sized ice boulder flew from the eastern gate, smashing into fragments on the shaman, doing him no visible harm. The elementalist was breathing heavily now, eyes shooting daggers at the elderly norn. ‘Marla Webbley. So what is it to you, this staff. For something that belonged to you lunatics, it sure was not guarded very well.’ Marla spat back, the ice around her again flash-melting into water. The elementalist swung her arm upwards, and circle of fire erupted around the shaman, quickly working itself upwards into a fiery twister. The ice-beasts nearest to Kolvirr gave a hollow shriek and retreated from the blaze. With a sigh, Marla turned her attention towards Jenny’s father who had left the fighting to run over to the elementalist. They talked quickly in hushed tones, so Jenny couldn’t hear the conversation over the noise in the village, but made out 2 words. Escape, and Ascalon. As they talked, the twister slowly died down, revealing a sphere made of the black-and-blue ice, slightly steaming but unbreached. The blizzard picked back up, and the air was filled with shouts to Jormag and Svanir. A spear-like arm punched through the ice, revealing Kolvirr emerging smiling and unscathed. ‘Hah, a spark like that is barely fit for a cooking fire. But enough. I tire of this prattle.’

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