Written by TheChoujinVirus
Happy Saturday everyone, it’s ya boy Choujin here.
Sorry about the long no absences of fanwork, i’m sure everyone has missed that stuff. Good news is that I had a spur-the-moment piece of short fiction that gives a bit of a intermission between the events of a DnD Campaign that’s coming close to the end.
With that, sit back, relax and enjoy the short piece of work.
Through the conquest in Barovia, each blow against the dark powers was a weakening blow. They felt their
powers wane as the final battle comes close, but another power felt their influence growing. In the plane of Muspelheim, the lord of the realm began to feel his influence growing in that darkened land. The fire giant Surtur sat on his throne as he began to anxiously wait for any news from his harbinger. Though as he waited patiently, another being entered the area. A human with a combed back ashen grey hair and robes resembled a cross between a clergyman’s robes made from raven feathers.
“Lord Surtur,” The being bowed, “I have returned with the job of fetching this…soul..”
The being pulls out a blue flamed spirit that danced in his hands eagerly like some rodent curious of its surroundings. Surtur turned his attention toward the being as he replies, “good….”
“Though pardon my questioning your authority, but you had me go to the site where Farina fought the revenants in the silver temple and the town of dogmen to find this soul?”
‘
Surtur stared then stood up upon the being’s response as his voice boomed, “Soul?! This soul is something Farina requested me to take in. I don’t take requests from my beings lightly, nor do I trivially do such matters of mortality. However, if this creature is willing to accept my offer, then he will serve well under my banner.”
The being seems flustered but replies, “Very well, my lord. This soul shall be forged in your fires and brought a new body. Though I must warn you that Hel herself wouldn’t tolerate me violating what is rightfully hers in the end. “
“As I would care if she is cheated or not.” The fire giant boomed, “If Farina wants to do it, I have no qualms with her wish. Though she will know that whatever that soul becomes, it’s under her responsibility. Now deal with it as you see fit.”
The being bows as he leaves Surt to his forged chair. Throughout the campaign moments, he more or less watched and felt Farina’s weapon swinging and slamming into targets. Sometimes she would make smart moves, while others, she would make foolish ones. Though he found her resistance to the dark power’s offer of gifts to be something…impressive in his molten eyes. Though an unbuckling weapon is one thing, now he waits for the final moment..the blow against the dark forces in their puppet Strahd. Though Farina’s pact weapon is strong to burn and crush enemies, sooner or later, a sword would need to be tempered or improved, or complimented.
He reached into a nearby brazier near him and pulled out a fire. He slowly dances about formless before he clenched his hand over it. He moved from his throne toward a large hot forge in the room. Throwing the fire into it, he watched as the fire started to change shape as it began to change from crackling fire to the sound of a neighing animal taking shape.
“…and my Ebon Blade shall ride upon a nightmare..no a catastrophe that will herald my inevitable arrival..”
He reached his hand into the forge and pulled out a shape. No longer a fire, but more of a steed of war. Forged from fire and infused with war. A horse with eyes burning flickering with conquest. Hooves that when it struck, sounded like loud metal hitting hard rock. Its skin, though it may look like a demon, infused and flickered with the powers of its birthplace. The Fire Giant looks at the creation and only says the words
“Catastros, you shall be the steed for my champion and carry her conquest across all the lands!”
The horse reared up on its legs as it neighed triumphantly in response to the Fire Lord’s booming voice.
While somewhere within Surtur’s home, the raven-robed being was at work with his “forge.” His forge resembled various things of forged armors and cages that seemed to be shaped like humanoid bodies. Surtur allowed the follower of Hel to find those worthy in his eyes and give them a second chance. Though the choice matters in the soul, for should the Soul fail..it will experience true death. The being places the soul inside one of the humanoid cages and preps it by placing a hook. With the sound of grinding and creaking, the hook hoists the cage and moves it near a large pool of molten slag. Slowly it descends, dipping the caged soul into the hot pool. The being began to ponder to himself. He, an envoy of Hel and aids Surt with his connection to the undead, was doing small errands like this. At the same time, one of his harbingers galivant across Barovia. His attention turns toward the submerged cage as he figures out it has stewed long enough. He makes the machine pull the cage up. He smiled as he saw that the cell didn’t melt but now looked like it wasn’t melted. It, too, seemed changed and altered. The hook drops this amalgamation onto the ground. The being looks at the work as he sees the molten slag now sliding off the being. What was once steel and wire was now flesh and bone..and what was once a blue soul was a living being..a Dragonborn reborn. Though he would be unconscious but altered from his last trip.
The being smiled as he strokes the top crest of the unconscious Dragonborn
“Welcome back to the living..now, let’s see what Surtur will need for a Dragonborn thief like yourself….”
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