Path of Transcendence Omnibus II, page 13
The Defeat of Boran shows a Jotun that is presumably Yggr, the patch is on the right eye, and a Dvergar that resembles Boran locked in battle. The Dvergar has just had his right arm cut off by Yggr. I almost laugh seeing this. I cannot believe that Yggr has ever managed to harm Boran, let alone cut his arm off. Even though I have never met Yggr, I have encountered Woden more than enough times. Without bringing out his real Body, I cannot imagine him lasting more than a second or two against Boran, and even if he does bring his real Body, I still do not believe he could do much. Yggr should be no different.
The Priest-Wizard leads me to the altar at the front of the temple. Illuminated by softly flickering candlelight, I see gallows and spear behind the altar. There are large rusty brown stains on the floor below the gallows, and an odor of coppery blood fills the air. The head and shaft of the spear are caked with reddish-brown, dried blood. I cannot help but wonder how many victims have been sacrificed to Yggr in this temple.
Dropping to one knee, the Priest-Wizard bangs his forehead on the stone floor fronting the altar three times.
"I submit to the Greatest God's Dominance."
"I submit to the Greatest God's Dominance."
"I submit to the Greatest God's Dominance."
Yep, religion breeds insanity. These Priest-Assholes are all completely fucking nuts. Banging your head on the ground to kiss the ass of some assfucker that calls himself a god is just plain stupid.
Rising to his feet the Priest-Asshole glares at me.
"Yggr can lick the sweat off my balls."
Near apoplectic rage turns the Priest-Asshole's face into an ugly mask.
I laugh. "Bring it on! I'll cut your pinkie size dick off and stuff it down your throat."
The Priest-Asshole comes to his senses and does not attack me. It leaves me a bit annoyed. I thought I had goaded him into being stupid. If they attack me first, Thrall will not have anything legitimate that he can bitch about.
Thrall is anything but happy that I am here. He is not happy that I am going after Kra'cha'len, but he does not know the answers to the questions that I have for Kra'cha'len. I think he is worried about getting into a conflict with Yggr, but with Boran behind him, I do not understand what he is worried about.
The Priest-Asshole turns toward the left wall of the nave. Power outlines a door that is invisible to my normal vision. Approaching the door, he seems to trace something on its surface, but his body blocks my view of exactly what he is doing. As the door opens, the Priest-Asshole steps through, and I follow him.
There is a corridor on the other side and the light crystals in the ceiling give off a dim white light. Tables along the walls have small statues that I suppose are artworks. No matter where I look, there are spells laid on top of the next. Most of them look odd, almost like they are in a dormant state. A few are easily identifiable as alarms, but the rest I am not sure about.
At the end of the corridor, we go up a set of switchback stairs to the next floor, and follow a small corridor to a central hallway.
At one end of this corridor, there is the head of a flight of stairs. It probably leads up from the doors at the back of the temple. There are offices behind the nave, but it would have probably been harder to instigate a fight if I came in that way.
At the opposite end of the corridor, not too far from where we are, there is a set of double doors and the Priest-Asshole leads me to them. Despite being so short, this section of corridor has twelve guards stationed along its length in pairs. The hostility and contempt from these guards washes over me, as I cross the small distance between the intersection and the door.
When the Priest-Asshole opens the doors, the room behind them is a waiting room. There is some kind of receptionist or secretary seated behind a desk next to the next set of doors, and three DokkAlfar sitting in comfortable looking chairs.
All of the DokkAlfar in the waiting room stare at me with open hostility that rivals that of the guards behind me. At least they do, until I return their stares, and then, not a one has the balls to meet my eyes. I do not know what others see when they look into my eyes, but whatever these DokkAlfar see, it turns their hostility into trepidation.
"The Priest-Lord said to send the trash in as soon as it arrives." The secretary fills his voice with scorn and animosity.
Embracing the black rage, I focus it on the secretary. He is not much of a Caster, and his Psi defenses are a joke. Driven by Power that encompasses all three aspects of the Trinity in a tight braid, my rage blows apart the secretary's defenses. His naturally pale face loses what little color it has, and he shrinks back in his chair. As I advance on the doors, he frantically looks around for an escape.
I laugh. This is how the world should be. I a monster that is always hated and feared. I am surrounded by enemies, and the black rage is rising from deep within me. This is not Earth. I do not need to smother myself and pretend to fit in. Now, I have Power and no reason to hold back.
The Priest-Asshole and the others in the waiting room unconsciously shrink back from me. I have suddenly become something they do not understand. None of them are used to dealing with humans that refuse to cower at their feet. Safely tucked away in one of the Seven Great Citadel's the only non-DokkAlfar they encounter are slaves.
Bang!
Blown open by my Power, the inner doors slam into the walls of the office that lies behind them. The guards from outside the waiting room charge in with their glaives at the ready. Seated behind a massive desk, Kra'cha'len glares at me with a mix of hate and frustration on his face.
"All of you leave! Close the doors behind you. The human Brand is a guest." Kra'cha'len practically chokes on his own words. It is obvious he wants to give a different command but has been given his own orders that he is not about to disobey.
The Priest-Asshole, the guards, the secretary, and the supplicants leave the waiting room, and the doors close behind them with a soft click.
Boran had said that Yggr was on board with the mission to retrieve the main drive, and it seems like the good little Yggr drones have been given their marching orders. Woden with the main drive is apparently more of a threat to Yggr than Boran having it. Yggr has no clue how to steal it back, and I am the basket where they are putting all their eggs.
"Can you come in and close the doors? With them open, I cannot activate the full set of privacy wards." Kra'cha'len's voice is brittle, and hatred that he cannot seem to suppress leaks through.
Hate comes in different flavors. The DokkAlfar in the waiting room and the guards hated me, but it was a general, unfocused hate. For them, there was nothing personal in it. Kra'cha'len is different. His hate is not a general hate for humans or people who do not lick his balls. He has some reason to personally despise me.
Entering the office, I smile and close the doors behind me. "So, what do you think of my collar? Oh, sorry. I forgot I took it off."
Kra'cha'len's Psi shields are at least as strong as Elan'fer'sha's, maybe stronger, but he still cannot keep the intense hatred from passing through them. His face is bland, but his aura and his eyes reveal his true feelings.
"What do you want?" His voice is no longer brittle. It has turned into a venomous hiss.
I laugh, deliberately letting him hear the mocking tone of it. "It seems your fortunes have improved since we last met. Priest-Lord is quite the step up from Priest-Toady isn't it?"
After glaring at me for several moments, Kra'cha'len reins in his anger and hate, and his emotions disappear behind his Psi shields. "If you have business with me, state it. If you have no other purpose than practicing your jester routine, you may leave."
"Jinmu."
Kra'cha'len cannot quite conceal his surprise and narrows his eyes. "What do you want with the human?"
"Your ass-fucking god is on board with my mission to Earth. Without Jinmu, I don't know if I can pull it off. Where is he?"
After he gets his hatred and indignation under control, I can practically see the wheels turning inside Kra'cha'len's skull. He is trying to figure something out. In all likelihood, he already knew I am headed for Earth, but probably, he has no clue why. Yggr does not sound like the type to tell his lackeys that there is a device on Earth that can threaten even his existence.
"The city of Freeport on Taereun."
Freeport? Darius said that Menton relocated Thug Horde there. I remember seeing the name in the records in Elan's study, but there were no maps. If nothing else, at least, Vili should know where it is.
"If there is nothing else, leave!"
I smirk. "There is something I've been curious about since that first time I had Elan'fer'sha riding my dick. Why did you want her to fuck me and store my Power in those crystals?"
With each word from "riding" on, Kra'cha'len's face gets redder. As his Psi shields crumble, his hate and rage flood out, but there is a lot of something else mixed in with them. He is jealous, insanely jealous.
"Out! Now! Get your bastard animal presence out of my office!"
Yeah, he is definitely another piece of shit lusting after my woman. Even though I cannot blame him for wanting an incredible piece of pussy like her, I will not let him have her any more than I did that psychotic dyke. If all Wytches were like Elan, it would not take more than a handful of them to destroy the unity of any nation's ruling class. Just thinking about her, my dick is getting hard again.
I laugh mockingly. "Don't be jealous, just because I have that fine Alfar pussy sucking and fucking my dick every night."
Kra'cha'len surges to his feet. "Leave! Get the fuck out of my office!"
I could bait Kra'cha'len some more, but I think I will save it for another time. I might need to use him for something before this mission is over. Now that I have a prod that will drive him into a fit of rage, I can play with him some before I kill him. This bastard is the impetus behind Jinmu betraying me, and he will die as surely as Jinmu.
Taereun
*** Gor'achen Citadel – Battleground of the Damned ***
Return: Day 320
(Brand)
The time is the fourth hour when I arrive at the military air docks. I only have Elan, Tyrend, Kanchek, Valcrit, Sado, and a half dozen more gladiators in tow. There are not that many among the Blood Rose Stable that I think would be useful on Earth. Before Vili made the suggestion that I destroy the Earth, I had only planned to bring Valcrit, Kanchek and Tyrend in addition to Sado, but now I am bringing the gladiators that are the best marksmen with bows and crossbows. Their skills might cross over to firearms, and that might prove useful. I only have Sado with me to help keep an eye on the airship captain. Since Sado was among the gladiators that followed me into Castle Vardne'tar, he is several times more reliable than an unknown Half-DokkAlfar.
The Night Raven has been moved from the fitting dock to a normal dock. At the normal docks, the airships are docked nose in, with their bows tightly moored into U-shaped bumpers. Extensions run out from the main wharf between the airships, allowing crew and cargo to be loaded and unloaded.
Staying back, where some piles of crates partially shield me from the view of those on the ship, I watch the bustle of activity on the main deck of the Night Raven. Surprisingly, the crew seems to be about half human and only a third Alfar. The remaining members look like Half-Alfar and half-orcs.
Standing at the rail of the poop deck, Duncrik is shouting orders. Seemingly ignoring his orders, the crew is going about the business of getting the ship ready. Periodically, one of the crew looks in Duncrik's direction, with an expression that seems to say "What the fuck?"
"Valcrit, can you get a read on what hell is going on up there?" I point in the direction of the Night Raven.
"I will do my best, Master." Valcrit nods. His violet eyes glow, and he spreads his Psi toward the Night Raven, in a sweeping net.
I may not be a telepath, but I am an empath. While waiting for several minutes, I continue to watch the activity on board the Night Raven's decks and let the emotions being projected by the crew flow into my mind. The crew is on edge. Judging by their emotional turmoil and the way they are acting, something is not right with either the Night Raven or Duncrik.
As the glow fades from Valcrit's eyes, he looks at me. "Duncrik has been acting oddly since Thrall and that Dvergar boarded the airship earlier this day."
That seems almost reasonable; Duncrik served in the Air Legion. None of the DokkAlfar in the Blood Rose Stable like Vili, but Kanchek and Valcrit seem to have a very personal dislike for him. They both served in the Atran'ler Imperial Legions, and they might have some kind of history with fighting the Dvergar. There are not many Dvergar in the Battleground of the Damned, but there are still some bloody conflicts between DokkAlfar and those Dvergar that do exist in the Battleground. From what I can tell from the little that I know about the Battleground's history, the Jotuns never involve themselves in those conflicts, and that is probably out of fear that Boran will take action if they do. As a result, the DokkAlfar tend to get slaughtered every time they make a move against the Dvergar.
"Let's go." I head straight for the Night Raven.
As I lead my party on board without asking for permission, a number of the crew give me hostile looks, but when Duncrik does not say anything, they turn questioning glances in his direction. For his part, Duncrik only stares rather coldly in my direction. Being tied up with studying the stack of reference material on dimensional theory, I have not had the time to come check on the progress of readying the Night Raven. Now, seeing Duncrik's attitude, I can tell that he probably holds that lack of involvement against me. Fuck him.
"Duncrik, is everything ready for us to sail at noon?"
Duncrik's attitude pisses me off. I use DokkAlfar to question him. Everyone, whether or not they are DokkAlfar, on the deck, should understand DokkAlfar. It is a rather fucked up language in many ways, especially its forms when asking a question. There are several ways that a question can be phrased in DokkAlfar, all of them relating to the difference in social status between the questioner and the questioned. The form I used is appropriate for a member of a High Clan talking to a commoner. Since I am a human, it is an extremely insulting way to talk to Duncrik.
Duncrik seems to be good at concealing his temper, when he wants to. After being insulted by me, his expression turns even colder, but he does not show any other sign of the rage that is eating away at him. "Whenever the rock ape below decks is finished, we will be ready to launch."
"Valcrit, get everyone settled in appropriate berths. I'll be taking the captain's cabin with Elan."
"Yes, Master." Valcrit pounds his fist to his chest in a sharp legionnaire salute.
Duncrik's cold expression cracks, and he stares at Valcrit in blatant disbelief.
As I head down the stairs under the poop deck, I hear the crew mumbling and whispering to one another. I may not be a telepath, but my unaugmented hearing is probably the best on the Night Raven, with the exception of Thrall and Vili. The words Brand and arena pop up in the crews whispers and rapidly spread.
Yeah, it looks like I am famous. That and two copper crowns will get me a cheap beer. Since it will be DokkAlfar beer, it will be real piss water.
Entering the hall from the companionway, I move to the door to the metal vault. Inside the door, Vili and Thrall are working on attaching a more or less rectangular black metal box to the pedestal in the middle of the vault. With the both of them working in the vault, it would be hard to squeeze a mouse in the room.
"Almost done. The chameleon field is already connected in the wheel house." Vili does not bother to look up from what he is doing.
I do not know if I should consider the way Vili is connecting the device to be odd or not. Gold wires with plugs that more or less resemble those from modern Earth electronics are being slid over gold posts in the column, and then restraining clips are screwed in to hold them in place.
After checking all of his work, Vili bolts the box to the top of the column and stands up. "Done. Come here!"
I take a step into the cramped room, and Vili taps a red crystal stud on the upper left corner of the dimensional ripper. A holographic display springs to life over the ripper.
The dimensional ripper's top is very simplistic in its design. Besides the red stud, there are eighteen crystal dials in a 2x9 arrangement, another stud next to the dials, a holographic projector, and a port of some kind.
Vili snickers. "Damned DokkAlfar have gone pocket plane crazy. It might be time for the Second Father to give us permission to exterminate the Jotun Lords once and for all.
"The display is showing all the dimensional boundaries within five miles, as you would measure distance on your Earth, more or less. There are so many pocket planes inside these so-called Great Citadels that it looks like chaos, but it is still quite accurate. To use the ripper you need to identify the dimensional boundary you want to tear open, set the energy frequencies for a sheering wave, and activate it. Simple. When we are in someplace less twisted, I will show you how to read it. There is less dimensional clutter to litter the display there.
"Other than fixed teleportation, dimensional ripping is one of the few ways to move between planes inside of Yggdrasil. With this, there is no way for Woden to trap you on your Earth. In an emergency, you can easily escape."
When Vili talks about an emergency, I have the feeling he is speaking about a very specific emergency. If I do manage to set off Earth's nuclear arsenals, I will probably need to escape in a hurry.
Thrall stares at me for a few moments. I have no idea what he might be looking for, but he nods in seeming acceptance or satisfaction.
"I will take my leave. Do not let anyone kill you. You still have to complete my Shadow Fist."
A trace of a smile slightly turns up the corners of my mouth. "I don't plan on dying, and if I do, I'm taking enough of them with me to pave the road to the afterlife with their mutilated corpses."
Vili smirks. "It's too bad you’re human. You have the heart of a Dvergar."
