Lord of Thunder by Michael DeAngelo

Author:Michael DeAngelo
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Dwarves, Anthro, Fantasy, Superhero, Magic, Giants, Naga, Birdfolk
Publisher: Michael DeAngelo
Published: 2019-04-23T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Thirteen: Unexpected

The conversation had gone on for some time, with the visitors congregating around the warm pool. Tempus explained to them that after Gartuk had arrived at the cavern, it was his intent to enter the hot springs. The temperature would have stopped his heart, and he would be free to venture to the great beyond, near the icy mountains of Frostfjell, a place that none of those much smaller folk had ever heard of.

As the giant spoke and the haudron translated, everyone, even the spiteful avarian, could not help but be drawn into his tale.

* * * * *

A fist landed squarely on his jaw, nearly rocking him off his feet. He thought of how that ground would tremble, shaking the entire valley and those tiny people who called it home.

Although his jaw throbbed from that dizzying blow, he couldn’t help but laugh. All he could think of was protecting those wee folk, even as he blinked away the spots that danced in his vision. Aurvand, his eldest son, would have been proud.

“What do you find so entertaining?” The other giant, Rogrimmr, the son of Hodr, was much younger than Gartuk, but his eyes were filled with years of madness. His appearance was made all the more crazed and imposing by the pair of blood-soaked tusks draped over his shoulders. A pilgrimage to the frozen abyss had yielded great results for that one.

Gartuk spat on the ground and wiped his lip with his wrist. That trail of blood was already cold from the Cracius winter. The giant smiled at his younger aggressor. “You hit like your father.”

“Tell me where your son is, or I’ll break your bones, old one.”

That hatred was planted deep and left to grow into a loathing that rivaled few among their clan. If only Rogrimmr knew the truth of why Hodr despised him so much, he mused. But if his father had things his way, Rogrimmr would never have existed at all.

“I will tell you nothing, youngling,” Gartuk offered. “Your words are as hollow as your skull, and I’ll not see my son’s faith in me tainted by your ill threats.”

“Aurvand’s alliance with the dwarves is forbidden. Our rules—”

“Your father’s rules, not mine.”

“Our rules make it clear your son must be punished. And so it shall be.”

Gartuk let out a deep, bellowing laugh. “We shall see. The night grows near, and even you can’t see over the mountains. But if you look, I shall send you straight to the Frostfjell.”

Rogrimmr sneered at the older giant, his hand landing upon the spear he had fashioned out of a fallen tree. Though Gartuk’s muscles tensed, he did not need to act, for the young giantkin turned and walked back to the mountain village.

Left alone, Gartuk exerted a relieved sigh. He looked to the west, his vision trailing the setting sun.

* * * * *

Faint starlight accentuated the bulges of his muscles. Aurvand tugged on the oversized, makeshift sled with all his might, flattening the ground beneath him as he went.

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