THE GIANT KING’S FOLLY
“That behemoth—Dhu’um, The Black Beast—faced The Giant King with an army of monsters born from the slags. They were Hellion’s ruin and they came with a message. The death of The Giant King was heard loud and clear, for Lady Malice appeared, and The Black Beast took his leave, but not without facing her wrath. If only the sovereign arrived sooner. If only Molossus had welcomed her as world queen.”
~Ravenscribe Granolf
Krucial Hardgrave: Dhu’um
Succumbing to the khthonium essence of the Damned, rogue gigantar Krucial Hardgrave forsook his namesake for Hellion’s will. He was reshaped into a weapon of dark destruction, embracing his true calling—Dhu'um: The Black Beast.
The might of Shadara could not stop Dhu’um. His arrival on the battlefield brought the beginning of the end. Victory was meaningless. The Black Beast had truly become an emissary of the Damned Queen, a harbinger of Hellion’s impregnable doom. Scrolls recovered from a dead ravenscribe reveal Dhu’um’s coming. How Krucial killed half of his adopted clan to avenge his dead bloodline, and that bloodlust drove him into the clutches of Hellion’s cabal.
This was Hellion’s plan since its inception. Luring the scorned into her treacherous embrace, enticing dark ambitions with promises of power… only to rob those she enslaves. Using them for her heinous goal. The extermination of The Giant King was only a fraction of her plan.
King Molossus was dropped by Dhu’um’s fury, but the world queen nearly killed him, ending his rampaging streak in one ferocious fight! Malice drove Dhu’um from Azzan that night, but even her efforts may not be enough. The gigantar of Azzan was without a king.
That was a problem.
The Cragfells
Azzan | Shadara
Sometime During the Calamity Era
Cragfell. What’s left of it.
Nestled in the womb of Azann’s crag bush stood the forgotten fort ruins of Cragfell. This place was but another timeworn footnote in gigantar culture. Just one of several strongholds whose destruction told a story of warlords and their futile stand against the world kings that broke them. It once held an army. Now it was home to two. But not for much longer.
“Come, tyke. The time has come.”
Mammothene stood in the doorway. For a giganta, her kind, motherly voice did not match her lofty shape, as if a little old benevolent woman hid inside. She waited for the child Ryssa to answer her. The young giganta girl had nestled herself against a big, sleeping liger lynx. The girl gave it a name, Doomclaw, for the ferocious cat spelled doom for anything that threatened them—and Ryssa found the name cute for a kitten. It was a huge kitten still.
Ryssa looked up towards Mammothene with that child-like confusion in her eyes. “We’re about to hunt again?”
Mammothene calmly shook her head. “Not this time.”
Ryssa didn’t understand and found the Tallmother’s gentle face difficult to register. They were going somewhere, and Ryssa was soon to find out on her own accord. She and a Doomclaw found themselves up and following Mammothene outside. Every night, they hunted, and explored, out of sight and mind of Shadaran society, for it wasn’t wise to mingle with the locals. Mammothene warned Ryssa each time she and Doomclaw went on their own. And each time they returned, Ryssa told stories of what she saw. Other gigantar, humans, soldiers, battles. It hit a point where Mammothene went out on her own, for dangerous times emerged, like Hellion’s breach, and the conundrum to result from it.
Now, they were departing this place, their home, for unknown motives. Well, Ryssa had no clue, at least.
Mammothene kept a tight lip on the subject.
Soon, Cragfell was far behind them. The girl talked Mammothene’s head off. It was welcomed like any other night. She’d banter and ramble and Mammothene, like a mother, answered. It was how Ryssa grew her wisdom. Her perceptions of life. Even though it was a sheltered existence. As if that bothered Ryssa.
That sheltered living was ending now.
A huge crag-like shardship emerged in the path before them. Several gigantar warriors armed to the teeth were stationed outside, waiting.
“That’s a shardship!” said an excited Ryssa.
“Aye,” replied Mammothene. She humbly stared down at Ryssa as if expecting her excitement to subside into something else. It came soon enough.
“We’re leaving?” Ryssa asked. As Mammothene expected. The question had some shock in it. Confusion, too. Ryssa was regretting her chance to ask what was really going on during what was now the last seconds of their solitude in Cragfell. “But you said that the outside was too dangerous to venture beyond the stone bush.”
“Aye. You are correct. That is why we are leaving. We can no longer stay here.”
Sadness soured Ryssa’s gut. This could not be. “But this is our home.”
“Yes. It is,” Mammothene assured. “And it always will be.”
Arcean King’s Chamber
Giants’ Dominion | Azzan | Shadara
“Giants’ Dominion can no longer persist down this kingless path. If there is no Arcean to sit on that throne, then let there be tribunal!”
Karnac Mongrelmaker sided with the way of the patriarch, how it was kings who reigned over the gigantar. The Mongrelmakers bred the strongest mastino mounts, war beasts that were legendary across Shadara’s beast keeper circuit. Karnac gave the late King Molossus his first mastino, Ursidd, now without a master. With Dhu’um fucking up matters, the remaining powers that were scrambled to settle their life-threatening predicament. A king was to be settled here and now.
It was debated at every turn.
Karnac was met with Mondo Battleblaze, Ravenscribe Thaedos, several other old and powerful gigantar, and the now dead king’s consort Titeria, who stood in the shadowy distance against the great beast statue that loomed over the rest of them.
“No council is necessary in deciding the fate of Azzan,” suggested Mondo Battleblaze, chief of clan Battleblaze, who had no choice but to take up that mantle after learning about the death of his father. His words held some weight, with several gigantar agreeing, though it wasn’t enough. “The stonebearers speak clearly. Azzan does not need another king. It needs liberation. I advise we solidify union with the world queen—”
“Out of the question,” Karnac quickly shot back. Several on his side silently concurred. “No king of the Arcean seat has EVER secured an allegiance with the Khans. Doing so now only renders us weak. Perhaps the death of your father by that menacing rogue gigantar clouds your judgment. Your interpretations of the stonebearers’ wisdom leaves you astray. We do not need the protection of Shadara’s unspoken curse!”
“So, we once again ignore the stones’ word for virile arrogance and greed,” Titeria spoke from the shadows of the council. As the late king’s consort, she still had a place here, just not at the table of delusional males arguing about the throne. “If a Tallmother caught your tongue.”
“They have all since disintegrated with the old.” Karnac looked at Titeria with spite in his gaze and contempt in his heart. “This has nothing to do with the past, or how two crowns once ruled these lands. The Arcean bloodline has always prevailed in patriarchy and survived because of it.”
“Then let it continue to survive through her.”
The council turned to another voice, one that all but two were familiar with. Mammothene emerged. A perplexed and wide-eyed Ryssa, and her giant kitten, Doomclaw, tagged behind. The two looked like a duo of big fishes out of water at this point.
And under intense scrutiny, too. A giganta child with white hair had emerged, and with her came Mammothene, dressed in tallmother regalia. Old robes that had the council’s eyes swell with turbulence. Both of them were an unrivaled shock to the king’s chamber. The council exploded in whispers.
“Her robes. What game is this?” Karnac spouted with a spark of outrage, killing the gossip. “A tallmother’s upon us? How?!”
“There’s much that you don’t know, Karnac,” said Titeria. Ryssa stayed forever glued to her sights. One look at the girl and all the worries in the world faded. So much that Titeria could not resist her urge to be near. As a mother should.
She found herself at her daughter’s side, to the left of her. Ryssa nearly stepped away, but Mammothene never budged, and that told her to stand firm. So, in the center of the confusion presented to her, she did just that. Stood firm.
Titeria accepted that quick correction. There was no need to fear. Ryssa had grown since the last time Thadeos showed a vision of the girl. She was but a head smaller than she stood now and was a lot bolder compared to her nervousness that nipped itself in an instant. Several more cycles and she will bloom, and will handle these old giants without even breaking a sweat.
That was what Titeria saw in the girl just now. Until then, until that predicted point, Titeria will continue to eclipse Ryssa, protecting her alongside Mammothene, who stood proudly on the child’s right.
The sight of them. The sight of Ryssa. It ruffled the council’s feathers. Karnac, especially. An unwanted era seeded itself at the moment, and he could do nothing about it.
Accept bitch and complain—for that was what those who believed themselves in power would do, when the truth threatens their place, and all that they thought they knew… was a lie.
Mondo, however, was happily stunned by the truth. The girl carried a familiar spark. A known air that ran deeper than just looks. That Arcean spark. Proper tempering and this new heir could carry the weight of all Azzan in one hand. Just like her father. Certainly the others saw it, too. Which explained all the murmuring before Karnac lost his shit.
“It’s as if Molossus walks again,” Mondo said. The council couldn’t deny that truth.
“This is sorcery!” declared Karnac. Denial brewed strong within him.
“Sorcery?” Titeria chuckled and stepped forward from the girl until she met the whites of Karnac’s mad eyes. “Nye. This child is the only living Arcean capable of saving you relentless fools from your own hubris.”
A moment of silence. Karnac raised his head at her. His eyes cooked with disdain. His gaze burned against Titeria’s assertive nature. Giganta could not be this bold. Not to those with authority.
But what could a beast breeder with patriarchal ties do against the bearer of Molossus’ seed? Her title as consort was no secret. Molossus treated her like royalty. And only he could touch her.
Ryssa
And Titeria knew that all too well. Karnac was mad. He wasn’t that suicidal.
Soon, the silence faded, and suspicion returned for Ryssa. Whispers of her strange white hair and her cold blue eyes. That Arcean strength flowed all throughout her young shape. To explain what they saw in more detail would be a waste. Her parentage was obvious. Uncanny.
“I swear upon the shears of Exu.” One of the gigantar on the side of Karnac pointed a suspicious finger at Ryssa, confusing the child. “She is nothing but the workings of scandals!”
She felt that. Ryssa. The giant man with a rough voice and burly figure felt like cannon fire. The child couldn’t dodge. She took the full hit. And it bothered her. She didn’t understand why these big men fell into an explosive hissy fit. She wasn’t aware of herself as not just some young giganta, but an heir of pure Arcean clout. Yet to be molded. A potential threat. She was taken by surprise; led to a place she had never seen or been to. Walking among her own kind.
This all felt weird. Awkward. And alarming. Words of the council that made no sense only bewildered her more, and she hoped Mammothene would finally decipher it all.
All she could do was stand and listen.
For now.
“When did this happen?” Another gigantar in the council had inquired with a startled voice, still struggling to understand this formidable revelation. “Why were we not aware of this?!”
“As if it is your business to know the depths of our union,” Titeria replied. “Molossus left me with child. You need not know anything else.”
“Keep in mind that at one point in time, Titeria was absent for ten moones straight,” Mondo aired, letting that hint out for the sake of breaking—more like chisel—what black ice he could shatter. The chamber got too tense real quick. “You all assumed that she was away conducting Balen affairs under the king’s secrecy. That part was true.”
Titeria grinned. Karnac twitched an eye. He should have known.
Ryssa tugged at Mammothene’s robes. The council and their crazy talk were too alien to her. “What are they saying?”
Mammothene planted her hand into Ryssa’s hair. Caressing her scalp, as she always did when consoling her. “We’ll explain everything soon enough. The congregation of killjoys must be pacified first.”
“This is the liberation we need,” Thaedos said, and he smiled. Ryssa couldn’t help but smile, too—while puzzled. This all fell on her too quick and too heavy, and Thaedos felt sorry for her. “Before his death, Molossus’ stubborn nature against the world queen ended. Respecting this epiphany, he declared that his reign be marked as the end of kings, for we have forgotten the word of the stones, and the nightmother’s womb.”
“So, this is your doing, Thaedos!” barked Karnac. Thaedos need not answer. “You had something to do with all of this. I should have known. If not for The Giant King’s will—”
“You know the king’s will and the Arcean way are the same, rather the child carries a dick or not. Or both,” Mondo intervened. Karnac fumed.
Titeria sighed. “Mondo…”
“What? You know about the young Molossus romp in Bale.” Mondo showed no shame. “It was before you and shouldn’t be hidden. Hells, Molossus never hid it. You should be fortunate that it was you to carry his seed instead.”
The whole time, Karnac kept denying it. Denying Thaedos. Mammothene. Ryssa. Everything. His sentiments, once impregnable, were chipping. This was blasphemy in the flesh. It disgusted him.
“Blah! She is no Arcean.” Karnac’s belief stayed true only to himself. “This tyke does not know our ways. She hasn’t even seen the harsh realities of battle—!”
Ryssa couldn’t help but frown at Karnac. She was finally coming to cope with disliking this one. Karnac frowned harder at her. Childish. The two were having a grumpy old man versus little girl staring contest and the longer Karnac grimaced, the worser Molossus showed itself in the girl’s cold, battle-ready stare.
The girl had seen battle before. Mammothene just made certain that she never became part of it. Not yet.
Not until she could physically drop bodies like her father once did.
“Aye. You see it now, don’t you, Karnac?” Mammothene taunted. The gigantar elder sneered at her words, but never answered as Ryssa had him in a glare lock… and winning. “You shouldn’t underestimate the one and only child of Molossus.” She then visually noted Doomclaw’s angry growl with a soft smirk. “And her pet hasn’t eaten since we’ve departed.”