The Wonder Worlock: The Ice Man Cometh, Part 1
Posted by: Byron Brewer, Managing Editor
December 25, 2011 00:28 | Updated: 1 year 18 weeks Ago
December 25, 2011 00:28 | Updated: 1 year 18 weeks Ago
It was many ages before our own universe was shaped that the Mist-World of Niflheim came to be, and midmost within it lies the well that is called Hvergelmir, from which spring the rivers called SvÃ¶l, GunnthrÃ¡, FjÃ¶rm, Fimbulthul, SlÃdr and HrÃd, Sylgr and Ylgr, VÃd, Leiptr. There is also the river GjÃ¶ll, like its fellows actual “bridges” to neighboring dimensions, that some say leads straight to Hell.
Just as the phenomenon of cold arose out of Niflheim, so also all that looked toward its polar opposite, MÃºspellheim, became hot and glowing; but Ginnungagap (the vast, primordial void that existed prior to the creation of our universe) was as mild as windless air, and when the breath of heat met the rime, so that it melted and dripped, life was quickened from the yeast-drops, by the power of that which sent the heat, and became a man's form.
He was Aurgelmir, first and greatest of all the Frost Giants!
When Aurgelmir slept, or so say legends recorded in the scrolls of the Wonder Worlock, a son and a daughter grew from his armpits, and his two feet procreated and gave birth to a son, a monster with six heads. These three beings gave rise to the race of Frost Giants who populated Niflheim, a dimension of mist, chill and ice. Aurgelmir became the All-Father of the powerful Frost Giants who populate this savage tundra, this dimension of roving snow-peaked mountains and icy oceans leading to -- well, who know?
Some of the Frost Giants were of hideous appearances: claws, fangs and deformed features, apart from a generally humongous size. Some of them even have many heads -- such as Thrivaldi who, it is said, had nine of them -- or an overall non-humanoid shape.
Yet for all their fearful natures, since his coming has the Wonder Worlock called upon them and their realm in time of need. Although never journeying to Niflheim, the dark mage has found the Frost Giants seemingly very old, carrying the wisdom of bygone times. It was the Frost Giants Mimir and Vafbruonir the wizard sought out in times past – at the very edge of our universe’s entrance to the River GunnthrÃ¡ -- to gain this ancient knowledge.
But, after eons, the cold winds of change seem to be blowing in isolated, icy Niflheim -- and the Great Frost Giant Aurgelmir seems not pleased.
He is not pleased at all.
PART THE FIRST
The Great Court Chamber of Niflheim is usually a quiet place, seldom occupied. But this day is like no other in the dimension’s history, for the mists surrounding the towering edifice have parted and, one by one, the great Frost Giants of today make their way past the Commune of Elders, seated in great benches to the right of a throne, as the Old Ones scowl at their youthful counterparts.
Unaccustomed to hearing the thoughts of others spoken aloud, the Great Frost Giant Aurgelmir squirms in his large chair, trying to wear the crown of his people royally instead of selfishly, as the legends of so many worlds paint him. Call him Ymir, Ig’loton, Malkaka, Faloosha or his given name of Aurgelmir, this ice giant is today acting as a King. Such is his birth right.
“O yea, o yea, the Commune of Elders be now in session,” screamed the giant sentry of the court chamber, making others fear an avalanche from the surrounding Mountains of Ybbob Ekard. “Comes this day the Frost Giants Mimir and Vafbruonir before the Commune and the King, hither to pray pronounce a great change for Niflheim, a great change for the Scheme of Things. O yea, o yea, be upstanding in court.”
With that the King stands, bows to the Elders who remain seated, and then he acknowledges – for the first time in his eons-long existence – two of the youth among the Frost Giants. The ice is already cracking in the River GunnthrÃ¡ from the perceived indignity as imagined by the ruler.
“Young ones, you have ideas and that is where reality begins,” Aurgelmir says in his gentlest voice. “Mimir and Vafbruonir, please share with the Elders and with your King this great knowledge you have come hither this day to impart --?”
Even though they have warred in their time with the Aesir and, unlike many of their fellows, encountered beings from other dimensions, other universes, Mimir and Vafbruonir sweat the sweat of fear this day. No one has sought change in thousands of years, and when there was change it came from Aurgelmir, as did all things.
But that too is about to change.
“Great Elders, Your Highness, for time out of mind have we done battle with the so-called Aesir and their descendents and their descendents,” Mimir begins. “We attack the hidey-holes of the cave-dwelling Storm Giants, we run when the dread Fenris Wolf is about and eating our meat and killing our women and children, and we sit and we freeze and we fight and we freeze and we fight --”
“There are great wonders to be discovered at the mouth of the River GunnthrÃ¡, other star-faring peoples we could never imagine – many tiny, many perhaps larger than ourselves, with knowledge that far outstrips our own, or with no knowledge who might benefit from the wisdom of bygone times,” continues Vafbruonir. “Whole worlds to be discovered, whole worlds to add companionship and, aye, a warmth of sort to our dimension. We need not dwell like we have for the past many ages. There are worlds --”
“Worlds to conquer, worlds to pillage of goods and resources, worlds to plunder and bring their peoples into slavery that we may never lose meat to the Wolf again or need to forage for ourselves!” Aurgelmir proclaims. “By my troth, what a marvelous idea. Why has it been frozen in my brain lo, these many eons and only now come out to the ears of the Elders through our sons and grandsons? What marvelous design, what --”
“Hear us, sire,” Vafbruonir shouts as his voice echoes down a suddenly quiet hall. “We are talking of peace, of peaceful co-existence and sharing, not of the ways of war, not of the ways of the Aesir. In doing that, every legend about us across an unknown cosmos would be verified. We --”
The words barely make an echo in the great hall before the spear tip of Jormundgar exits the youth’s mouth. Mimir and a small army of youthful giants cower and back away as the Elder removes his spear from Vafbruonir.
“Your Majesty, the only thing dwelling at the mouth of any river is MÃºspellheim and the heat that may one day destroy us all,” says Jormundgar. “I prithee, sire, to not do this thing, either in their interpretation of said or thine own.”
“You are wise counsel, Jormundgar, and yet I will not let the Old Waysbe the only way,” the King decrees. “Thine actions shall be met with justice, rash Elder, for you are suspended of your title thence and shall accompany home the family of Vafbruonir, there to do his chores and duties the remainder of your days.
“Be of good heart, Mimir, your King has heard your plea and recognizes your forethinking. For such, you shall replace Jormundgar on the Commune of Elders and temper the wisdom of your King with the freshness of new blood and new thought. And now, let us sharpen our swords and our wits, for a journey down the River GunnthrÃ¡ will soon be in the offing.”
Beneath his icy smile and sore shoulder from “well mets,” Mimir the Young, Mimir the Loyal sweats the sweat of fear this day.
It has been many a bleem since a new world has come dawning in the Empire of Threlkel, dimensions distant for both Niflheim and our own universe – if at all!
And yet, just weeks ago, it almost seemed like the solar system of Helios gave birth, for there – full-blown and already populated with those known as the Subatomics – appeared the world of Microsha, for all of the Empire to see. Many were the plots, the political wranglings to enslave these Subatomics, so happy to even be acknowledged as a group and as individuals.
Standing between all of them and the simple mutates of Microsha was only one person: Prima Dona of the Star Blazers! Heroes all, the Star Blazers are an army of powerful beings from throughout the worlds of the Empire. Prima Dona is their leader, and the blonde is quite formidable in her own right.
Thought to be the sole survivor of the planet Cripton (destroyed in the Great Solar Wars of the Founders), Prima Dona possesses strength on a superhuman scale as well as stamina, speed, flight and durability. She also has greatly enhanced sensory perceptions, which extends to being able to perceive the entire electromagnetic spectrum and “atomic vision” -- the equivalent of heat vision. The heroic praetor possesses – like the being Plantagenous -- the ability to use cosmic energy to augment her life force, granting her great longevity and regenerative abilities. Her only known weakness thus far has proven to be sorcery.
Sorcery, like that from her current mentor -- the Wonder Worlock!
“No, no, no!! Knife in this hand, fork in this hand. This is food, it is good. Eat. Eat, like we showed you. Eat, flark it!!” screams Prima Dona to her current class of Subatomics at a seminar on -- well, not-so-fine dining.
They scramble to familiar hidey-holes. Their mass exit from the facility, near Prima Dona’s Star Blazer cubicle on Microsha, is echoed by -- laughter?
“Who dares??!” Prima Dona squeals in frustration, her fists balled and her eyes blazing with the beginnings of an atomic vision blast.
“I dare! Hail, O Praetor of Impatience!” says the Wonder Worlock as a soft “bamf” announces his mystic arrival from the nearby world of Olympia, HQ of the Star Blazers.
Turning as red as her orbs, Prima Dona unwittingly reflects her name as she throws her two hands in the air, kvetching to her mentor like a Boston fishwife. He takes her aside, reminds her that “with great power comes great responsibility” and also asks her to recall the results of “the blind leading to the blind,” referring to the great toll of needless deaths in the Olympian Incursion.
“Be of good cheer, Dona,” the mage says. “All your life, you have strove to do well, to be a representative of superb example from your fallen home world. And it is because of you that memories of Cripton do not reflect their warlike past or even its peoples’ revolt against Threlkel’s Founders in the Solar Wars. Instead, when the populous of this dimension – and on some worlds in my own reality – hear ”˜Cripton,’ they think of Prima Dona and her good ways, of the bravery and nobility of the SBs. Little do they know your youth; you are held in high esteem, Prima Dona – by King Traven, by Zavar -- and by me.”
Wiping a tear from her blue eye and regaining her composure, Prima Dona gives the dark mage a brief hug (making sure no one is the wiser), throws back her blonde mane and patiently finds each and every Subatomic, calms them down and brings most back to resume the seminar.
Quite a handful, eh?Zavar says psionically from his Throne Room on Olympia.
Which, O King? The Subatomics or their teacher? Bwahahahahaha!the celestial sorcerer responds.
Hah! I am sorry to interrupt you, my friend, but I am in receipt of a mental message I think is meant for you, from one called -- Mimir? His is a most unusual mind,Zavar mind-says, and I have touched many an alien thought pattern!
Although Mimir is considered young by his people’s standards, he is a creature older than time,the Wonder Worlock explains. And his people seldom even communicate outside their own icy, mist-shrouded world. What --?
”˜Twas brief, but I don’t think it will be of your liking, my friend.
Zootalaris! What now?!thinks the cosmic mage as he teleports to Zavar’s palace on Olympia. What the flark now??!
TO BE CONTINUED --