Over the course of these celebrations, in the small amount of time she got to herself, Zel also learned that Thundercannon’s spirit could be made to manifest unassisted. However, he took a significant amount of energy and barely had a solid form, remaining semi-immaterial just like Death’s Lieutenant. In fact, it only sunk in now that Carnifex Fulguris was undoubtedly an exception among exceptions as a weapon whose spirit had not just self-awareness, but a fully physical body. Thundercannon’s manifestation had been permanently warped in subtle ways, the spirit’s armor now bearing draconic motifs, as if engraved.
A highlight of the initial celebrations were the songs which had been written of them. Not just her reforging of the Butcher, or the blood feud at large, but strangely specific things. From the terror which Zefaris and Victor both had rained down, to the undying fury of Gunnar, to the treacherous insanity of Ismaar Aase. While they worked as individual songs, they were also built into the framework of a sprawling saga detailing the known events of the past several weeks.
One which stood out most to Zelsys, however, was not one about herself, Zefaris, or Victor, but Jorfr. The performer, a member of one of the Secondary clans which Zel didn’t recognize, impersonated Jorfr’s draugr state to an admirable degree. His build was already close enough, he wore a long-haired wig made of tundrabear mane while bleaching his own beard, and he painted his right arm as well as a spot on his chest in blue to signify the ice. White wouldn’t have exactly stood out against a Borean’s skin, after all. Rather than embed an actual metal sigil into his forehead, the skald just glues an Aegishjalmr on. Moreover, he used some type of magic or other to create ghostly constructs in imitation of the secondary projections from Jorfr’s Presence of a Hundred Technique, and even wore a breastplate made of construct-ice as supplied by Fryg herself.
He stood atop a cleared-out feasting table, opposed by a man dressed as Asgeir, who put on a downright cartoonish portrayal of the dead Ramdall elder, cackling and hunched in mockery of the man. He even had a pet raven that cackled along with him.
The skald playing Jorfr sang of the immortal blood coursing through his veins, of how he wouldn’t be denied and how Asgeir was doomed from the very start. He sang of his gruelling, metaphorical swim out of the Fog-sea’s churning depths, of how he had done it fuelled solely by the determination to rend Asgeir’s flesh from bone.
“Destined to fight, even in death!”
Indeed, he sang of icebound spears rising with the revenant’s breath, of the bones which the foes of the Hulsons had thought they had shattered would never rest. Jorfr, Fryg, and Yvonne were absent at this feast; the Sagaborne had claimed that it was to fully ascertain the consequences of his recent growth, but Zel wagered he wasn’t one to watch someone impersonating him and boasting of his feats in such theatrical fashion. Gunnar sat at her right-hand side, with Zef immediately to her left and Rikke behind her, who had been rapidly gaining weight since the Blood Feud. Merete sat right behind Gunnar, with Victor to her right, and Torhild to his right.
“The Saga of Honor’s Rebirth, they’ve come to call it. The whole thing, that is,” Gunnar giddily leaned in as the final verse rang out. “We argued for days about what specific event or person to name it after… But there’s too much to use an overly specific title, so we settled on something that fits both the Hulson Restoration and the reforging of your cleaver. It’ll see many changes over the years before it is carved into an irminsul as a long-term record, but something tells me this part will go unaltered.”
Some time later, as the work-in-progress saga’s performance wound down and the , Gunnar broached another topic.
“What would you say if I offered you to take some distilled primary spring water back with you to Ikesia? We even have some secret alchemical recipes and procedures that might benefit your clan.”
It took slow head-turns and quizzical looks from both Zel and Zef to get the berserker to explain himself properly.
“Ah, right, you weren’t there for much of the trial. Most of the Ramdall, Buhaug, and Eisen properties are ours now as part of the blood price for an unjustified blood feud. The King even gave us some of the Aase properties for their participation in the feud… Including one of their distilleries. Recipes, equipment, the whole lot. The new elder, a handsome young man called Julius, was so ashamed of the whole affair and grief-stricken at Gjermund’s death that the poor lad nearly blood-eagled himself rather than live with it. I convinced him to just help us keep the distillery running. The distilled product is terribly toxic, of course, wrecks your liver and gives you ulcers if you’re not careful…”
Gunnar’s eyes briefly unfocused and his face hardened as he recalled a harrowing memory, only for him to snap back into his usual good-humored demeanor.
“But I’ve used it myself in the past, to great results! Perhaps sophisticated Ikesian alchemy might even be able to refine the formula into a safe form… Safer, at least.”
“Will it not be an issue if we take Primary Spring water out of Borea?”
That seemed to give Gunnar some pause, and at that time Torhild leaned in to answer in her father’s stead: “Oh, it would be, were you not… You. Some primary spring water is nothing compared to a sapdragon’s flesh, blood, or the heart of a fallen star. Besides, it has been exported to honored blood-brother clans in the past. The only condition is that you do not sell or otherwise supply the water to outsiders. The honor of access to a Primary Spring’s benefits even in the Everfertile Valley of Willows is one which flows from your great honor and blood bond to the Hulson Clan, the honor system would not permit others to partake of that benefit.”
“I am immensely thankful for the offer, after all your clan and the Borean people at large have done for us already. I only have one question: What if we use the Aase techniques to develop our own version that does not use water from the Boiling Lake’s source springs?”
Akaso
If you’d like to read ahead, consider heading on over to the Patreon! You get up to 20 advance chapters for both Retribution Engine and Cherno Caster.
I’d also greatly appreciate it if you could rate my story, maybe even leave a review or advanced review!
For a link to the discord, check the synopsis.
Over the course of these celebrations, in the small amount of time she got to herself, Zel also learned that Thundercannon’s spirit could be made to manifest unassisted. However, he took a significant amount of energy and barely had a solid form, remaining semi-immaterial just like Death’s Lieutenant. In fact, it only sunk in now that Carnifex Fulguris was undoubtedly an exception among exceptions as a weapon whose spirit had not just self-awareness, but a fully physical body. Thundercannon’s manifestation had been permanently warped in subtle ways, the spirit’s armor now bearing draconic motifs, as if engraved.
A highlight of the initial celebrations were the songs which had been written of them. Not just her reforging of the Butcher, or the blood feud at large, but strangely specific things. From the terror which Zefaris and Victor both had rained down, to the undying fury of Gunnar, to the treacherous insanity of Ismaar Aase. While they worked as individual songs, they were also built into the framework of a sprawling saga detailing the known events of the past several weeks.
One which stood out most to Zelsys, however, was not one about herself, Zefaris, or Victor, but Jorfr. The performer, a member of one of the Secondary clans which Zel didn’t recognize, impersonated Jorfr’s draugr state to an admirable degree. His build was already close enough, he wore a long-haired wig made of tundrabear mane while bleaching his own beard, and he painted his right arm as well as a spot on his chest in blue to signify the ice. White wouldn’t have exactly stood out against a Borean’s skin, after all. Rather than embed an actual metal sigil into his forehead, the skald just glues an Aegishjalmr on. Moreover, he used some type of magic or other to create ghostly constructs in imitation of the secondary projections from Jorfr’s Presence of a Hundred Technique, and even wore a breastplate made of construct-ice as supplied by Fryg herself.
He stood atop a cleared-out feasting table, opposed by a man dressed as Asgeir, who put on a downright cartoonish portrayal of the dead Ramdall elder, cackling and hunched in mockery of the man. He even had a pet raven that cackled along with him.
The skald playing Jorfr sang of the immortal blood coursing through his veins, of how he wouldn’t be denied and how Asgeir was doomed from the very start. He sang of his gruelling, metaphorical swim out of the Fog-sea’s churning depths, of how he had done it fuelled solely by the determination to rend Asgeir’s flesh from bone.
“Destined to fight, even in death!”
Indeed, he sang of icebound spears rising with the revenant’s breath, of the bones which the foes of the Hulsons had thought they had shattered would never rest. Jorfr, Fryg, and Yvonne were absent at this feast; the Sagaborne had claimed that it was to fully ascertain the consequences of his recent growth, but Zel wagered he wasn’t one to watch someone impersonating him and boasting of his feats in such theatrical fashion. Gunnar sat at her right-hand side, with Zef immediately to her left and Rikke behind her, who had been rapidly gaining weight since the Blood Feud. Merete sat right behind Gunnar, with Victor to her right, and Torhild to his right.
“The Saga of Honor’s Rebirth, they’ve come to call it. The whole thing, that is,” Gunnar giddily leaned in as the final verse rang out. “We argued for days about what specific event or person to name it after… But there’s too much to use an overly specific title, so we settled on something that fits both the Hulson Restoration and the reforging of your cleaver. It’ll see many changes over the years before it is carved into an irminsul as a long-term record, but something tells me this part will go unaltered.”
Some time later, as the work-in-progress saga’s performance wound down and the , Gunnar broached another topic.
“What would you say if I offered you to take some distilled primary spring water back with you to Ikesia? We even have some secret alchemical recipes and procedures that might benefit your clan.”
It took slow head-turns and quizzical looks from both Zel and Zef to get the berserker to explain himself properly.
“Ah, right, you weren’t there for much of the trial. Most of the Ramdall, Buhaug, and Eisen properties are ours now as part of the blood price for an unjustified blood feud. The King even gave us some of the Aase properties for their participation in the feud… Including one of their distilleries. Recipes, equipment, the whole lot. The new elder, a handsome young man called Julius, was so ashamed of the whole affair and grief-stricken at Gjermund’s death that the poor lad nearly blood-eagled himself rather than live with it. I convinced him to just help us keep the distillery running. The distilled product is terribly toxic, of course, wrecks your liver and gives you ulcers if you’re not careful…”
Gunnar’s eyes briefly unfocused and his face hardened as he recalled a harrowing memory, only for him to snap back into his usual good-humored demeanor.
“But I’ve used it myself in the past, to great results! Perhaps sophisticated Ikesian alchemy might even be able to refine the formula into a safe form… Safer, at least.”
“Will it not be an issue if we take Primary Spring water out of Borea?”
That seemed to give Gunnar some pause, and at that time Torhild leaned in to answer in her father’s stead: “Oh, it would be, were you not… You. Some primary spring water is nothing compared to a sapdragon’s flesh, blood, or the heart of a fallen star. Besides, it has been exported to honored blood-brother clans in the past. The only condition is that you do not sell or otherwise supply the water to outsiders. The honor of access to a Primary Spring’s benefits even in the Everfertile Valley of Willows is one which flows from your great honor and blood bond to the Hulson Clan, the honor system would not permit others to partake of that benefit.”
“I am immensely thankful for the offer, after all your clan and the Borean people at large have done for us already. I only have one question: What if we use the Aase techniques to develop our own version that does not use water from the Boiling Lake’s source springs?”
Akaso
If you’d like to read ahead, consider heading on over to the Patreon! You get up to 20 advance chapters for both Retribution Engine and Cherno Caster.
I’d also greatly appreciate it if you could rate my story, maybe even leave a review or advanced review!
For a link to the discord, check the synopsis.
