Phyrus, 45 AE
Ripped from Ginnungagap, Geirfinna recoils in pain. She falls to the ground screaming. “No no! not now!”
Looking up, Geirfinna meets the eyes of the Eldjotnar clerics. A fourth fourth giant steps forward. As he crosses the boundary of her wards they shatter. Each rune winks out like a snuffed candle. This Eldjotnar is far larger than the clerics, he is garbed in robes and armor of gold and black iron. His eyes show the satisfaction of swift approaching vengeance.
Geirfinna crawls over, grovelling before the Archduke of Viskaldt, Skjegg. “M’Lord, I…”
The Eldjotnar’s foot snaps up, cutting her short. His armored boot connects with her jaw, splitting her from chin to lip and breaking her nose.
Skjegg kneels down next to her. “You have disappointed me.” Reaching down he twists his fingers through her hair to hold her in place.
Through her broken nose Geirfinna’s pleads are mangled “Woard Shheggg I….”*
“Did you think I would not find out? I know why there have been delays, excuses. No more my dear Geiri.” The Archduke shifts bringing his kneed down on her throat. The witch starts to gag. She scrabbles at his armor, too weak to push his massive form from her. Reaching down with his right hand he wipes the blood away from her nose. “You were beautiful. I would have shared the empire with you. You would have given me mighty children; kings and queens to rule a dynasty.”
“Gack gagg garg.”
As her struggling cease Skjegg’s voice looses his angry edge. “What power didn’t I give you, what else could you have wanted? An emperor cannot forgive, Betrayal has only one answer.” Rising from her corpse Skjegg brushes off the dust from his cloak. One of the fire giant clerics steps forward
“Send General Nika. The snows are melting.” Skjegg marches to the door.
“It is time to deal with the Gothi. Bring her corpse, she will serve in death, if not in life.”