Lightning bolts angrily struck the ground with such force that anyone standing within leagues of that powerful display was forced to pray to Shandi’An, the storm god, for their lives. The thunderous explosions resulting from the strikes were enough to shake the entire mountain. The eardrums of giants reverberated within their skulls like hard hit drums.
In the middle of that violence stood the orchestrator of the storm. It was Lord Ozorn Zozian, newly ordained king of all storm giants. Lord Zozian’s pale blue eyes reflected the violence of the storm. His primal scream nearly split the rockface that he was standing on and the storm was his to control.
For it was a living storm. One created by Shandi’An to signify the ending of the trials and the beginning of King Ozorn’s rule. As King Ozorn raised his arms and clenched his fists, lightning came forth from the clouds and crashed to the ground. As he yelled in the ecstasy of victory, deafening thunder echoed those shouts. He could not be harmed by the storm. The storm and he were one.
Below his feet, one that was not so lucky lay on the cold stone. It was Lord Imbere Zozian, brother to King Ozorn. Imbere was utterly destroyed in battle by the hands and might of his younger brother Ozorn. Imbere’s death guaranteed Lord Ozorn Zozian’s right to rule both kingdoms. The mountain kingdom of Langzou Moi Urlieth and the sea kingdom of Haiyang Wan Guo.
The storm giants are creatures of great power and intelligence. To kill another of their kind is forbidden except in this one case. To crown a king in a time when two contend, the sacred rite of Luan Xu must be initiated. Order through chaos is the loose translation. It is a savage yet spellbinding trial by lightning.
The forebear of King Asir, King Inmaniter bore witness to the event. It is through his eyes that the details of this event are noted.
Let me go back a long, long time to the era of our creation, the Plasmus Age. It is then, millions of years after Karmus and Figulus became locked in the illusion of time, that our world of Sphaera was created. Both gods, growing tired of watching that time tick by without much to witness, agreed to create a world that would entertain them. A world of lesser gods and creatures that would go about their lives unaware, for the most part, of the coming and going of their originators.
It was then that the archetypes were born. The first giants were much different than the races we see today. Now, in the modern age of Sphaera, there are storm, cloud, fire, frost, stone, and hill giants, all of which came from two separate prototypes. Hill, stone, frost, and fire giants are all descended from Ostnove, an ancient elemental titan. Cloud and storm giants are descended from Vagora, the sky goddess. Her love affair with another ancient titan produced the original sky giants whose children have now become the two separate species.
In time, all races of giants became separated and distinct. Some, like the cloud and storm giants, formed their own societies and kingdoms. They chose to live by laws and reason. Others like fire and frost, do have kings and lesser kingdoms, though, as it relates to laws, there aren’t many. Hill and stone giants have chosen a solitary life, far away from the midling races, and in groups of small numbers at most. Hill giants, the least intelligent, began to produce deformed children many years ago when a great sickness came upon their mothers. Those wicked children became the trolls, a wretched race of murderers and destroyers.
That is the origin of giants. Now let me continue the tale of Ozorn Zozian, king of all storm giants.
Many thousands of years ago, there was a split between two factions of storm giants. Some wished to stay as far away as possible from the petty squabbles of midling kings. Those storm giants decided to build a kingdom under the ocean. A place so remote, that none would be able to find it. It was King Okekai of the sea elves that helped them find such a place. King Okekai rules all the waters of Sphaera, and the storm giant kingdom of Haiyang Wan Guo respects his laws and pays homage to him.
Langzou Moi Urlieth, the immutable storm giant kingdom on Mount Magna, and Haiyang Wan Guo, the magnificent sea kingdom of the storm giants, both worked in harmony with one another over the years. Ruled by the Zozian family for ages, there was a peace that eventually began to fall apart.
During the reign of King Inmaniter, who ruled the kingdom of Altus before King Asir, two storm giant brothers could not agree on who would rule, and from where. The king before them died, and when the god of storms took him, Ozorn and Imbere came to an impasse. Ozorn, the youngest of three brothers, was not supposed to rule. That birthright was Imbere’s. However, Imbere was a reckless brother who wanted to rule both kingdoms from the sea. That could not be allowed to happen.
Both Altus and Langzou Moi Urlieth, a kingdom of men and the primary kingdom of the storm giants, sit high atop Mount Magna. It was decided long ago that the two kingdoms would forever be tied to one another. Vilagir, the god of the Balance, won a divine game of fate playing against Shandi’An, god of storms. The resulting victory allowed Altus to sit above Langzou Moi Urlieth. It was symbolic of the fact that the Balance would forever be held above the whims of other gods on Sphaera.
Mount Magna, home to the greatest kingdom of men and the greatest storm giant kingdom, is a place of unimaginable power. The vorril deposits that sit within the mountain provide both kingdoms with longevity and might, channeling the favor of the gods into both kings.
That is why the storm giants’ king always rules from Mount Magna. It must be so and when Imbere desired it to be otherwise, Ozorn was forced to take action. That is the way of the Balance, and, as a result, the challenge of Luan Xu began.
Luan Xu is a fight to the death between two storm giants that cannot find agreement any other way. It begins high up Mount Magna and where it leads, no one can possibly know.
The night before the sacred event, all three brothers sat down in civility for the last time. By the end of the next day, one of them would no longer be breathing.
There is a sacred plateau high above both Altus and Langzou Moi Urlieth. It sits another ten thousand feet up the mountain in a place that only storm giants dare to go. That plateau is calm as the calmest day. Though storms and wild winds blow all around, while standing on that sacred spot, not one blow of the wind misplaces a single piece of hair on one’s head. It was there that the brothers met for the last time.
Ozorn and his younger brother Praefuro both rode to that place atop their mighty blue dragons. Not steeds, but connected through soul bonds called anim vincula, these dragons were bonded to the brothers for life. Imbere soon arrived riding an ancient sea dragon. He had broken the bond to the blue dragon attached to him from birth. That action had nearly killed the dragon and Imbere. After surviving that ordeal, Imbere then bound himself to a descendant of the great Nauphylaks, master of the sea.
Once dropping off their riders, the dragons departed, and the brothers looked at each other in silence.
That silence only lasted for a moment before Imbere smiled at his two beloved brothers and they smiled back. For a short while, they allowed themselves to forget what was about to happen. There atop the mountain, the brothers reminisced and made laughter. I do not know what was said. It is not like I can ask King Ozorn. It was a private matter.
The next day storm giants from both kingdoms met high atop Mount Magna to witness the sacred rite of Luan Xu. Dark clouds filled the sky, writhing angrily in the winds that pushed them against each other. The weather reflected the scene unfolding below.
Below, a storm giant priest called out the beginning of Luan Xu. Surrounded by hundreds of his fellow giants, both from land and sea, the priest shouted at a volume that all could hear.
The voice of a storm giant is a tumultuous sound. Like weather itself, that voice can go from the deafening sound of thunder to the slightest sweet whisper of an afternoon spring breeze.
What follows is the day’s events as heard by King Inmaniter, and as translated by Sapien X, two Master Sages ago. My predecessor asked the king if he could borrow the thread of memory relating to that day in order to write it down for our historical record. You already know that it is well within a Master Sage’s ability to read minds. We are not, however, allowed to enter the mind of the king we serve. In rare cases, the king will allow such intrusions, but only for a specific piece of information.
That day, the giants chose to speak in Consuete, the common tongue of Sphaera. The giants chose that language because the rite of Luan Xu is a public affair and able to be judged by all—or at least by those capable of getting tens of thousands of feet up Mount Magna.
“Welcome all. Today is a historic day. A sad day, but one that will define and guide us for many years to come.” The priest was intelligent and well-spoken, as one in his area of expertise should be. He was the previous king’s soothsayer and healer.
“You see before you two brothers unable to decide who should be king and where to rule from. Lord Imbere Zozian, to my right, wishes the master kingdom to be Haiyang Wan Guo, kingdom of the sea. He wishes to rule all of us from that far away place.”
As the priest finished those words, residents of Haiyang Wan Guo who had made the trip roared their approval. Those residents of Langzou Moi Urlieth were not nearly as enthusiastic about that statement.
“And to my left, Lord Ozorn Zozian, beloved son of Langzou Moi Urlieth. A true immani who wishes to rule us from the traditional position of power high on Mount Magna.”
The priest was allowed to be partial. The heart of a storm giant beats like a thousand thunder claps. None can keep it silent. In a contest of Luan Xo, every storm giant, or immani, the giant word for giants, is allowed to have an opinion. It is allowed, but no one except the two participants may be violent in any way.
The Zozian brothers met in the middle where the priest stood and hugged each other one last time. A tear ran down Ozorn Zozian’s face and, as if in perfect alignment with that emotion, the dark clouds began to shower rain down upon the congregants of the mountain.
“No need for sadness brother,” Imbere said somberly. “We both knew this day would come.”
It was true, but that did not make things better. Imbere had always fantasized about the beauty of the sea kingdom and his desire to rule from there.
“I am sad. It is either the last day I will ever see this beautiful world or the last day that I have an older brother. Either way, I put my life in the hands of Shandi’An to serve his will.’
“I love you brother!” Ozorn’s voice lowered and cracked as the last words rang out. All storm giants are filled with passion, but in Ozorn Zozian, that trait is magnified a hundred-fold.
The fierce smile on Imbere’s face melted away and was replaced by a look of sorrow. Ozorn’s words had struck a blow before the fight had even begun. Imbere turned his gaze away from that of his brother’s and instead looked at the priest.
“Let’s begin priest. I have no time for reflection.”
Too true. Imbere, the oldest brother of three, always had to be the level headed one. Always the protector. Always putting royal issues before the fun that his two other brothers had experienced. His strict upbringing is what caused the two brothers to come to blows.
“Order through chaos is our way. Let Shandi’An have his say. Two brothers locked in combat to the death, till one finally breathes his dying breath.” With those words said in poetic fashion the priest then raised both hands on extended arms. A ball of lightning began to glow and grow, crackling as it went. The priest then clapped his hands together and the ball of lightning turned into a bolt of energy that he launched straight up into the storm. When it reached the clouds, there was a moment of silence.
The wind died down, and the rain all but stopped. There wasn’t the slightest rumble of thunder. Imbere then sat upon his dragon. His green enchanted armor shone brightly even on a dreary day such as this. A thousand paces to the other side of the priest, Ozorn perched atop his mighty familiar, a ninety foot blue dragon he’d known since the day he was born. Ozorn was adorned with the traditional blue and gray colors of Langzou Moi Urlieth. His armor was also enchanted. His dragon’s was as well. The dark elves of Onix crafted it well.
King Inmaniter recalled it being so quiet in that moment, he could hear the beat of his own heart. His anxiety raised as a result of the inactivity.
The priest looked at one brother and then the other. After being convinced they were ready, he began Luan Xo.
“Shifang Feng,” he screamed!
A huge bolt of lightning tore through the sky like a knife ripping the fabric of reality in two. The resulting thunder nearly knocked many off their feet.
Both brothers’ dragons leapt into the air, unfolding their great wings. The dragons and their riders flew high above the spectators in a dizzying circular motion. They dared not get too close to one another yet.
The vision of the two storm giant riders left a lasting impression on King Inmaniter. High up Mount Magna on a flat, rocky outcropping the king was amazed to witness the fierce storm crashing all around the brothers as they circled faster and faster. The wind blew forcibly in many directions at once, pushing the dragons in directions they had not planned to go. Imbere and Ozorn bellowed at the storm as they flew in an aggressive overture to one another.
Breaking the circular pattern, Imbere’s dragon darted toward Ozorn. In response, Ozorn then shot to the right creating a curved path that led past his brother. Now, instead of circling around, their flying geometry resembled the number eight. As the dragons flew faster, the storm grew more violent. Lightning was everywhere, slashing and jabbing at the air.
When crossing near one another in the center of that figure eight, Imbere’s dragon breathed hot steam in a cone at Ozorn and his mighty dragon. The boiling steam hit Ozorn in his left leg and also hit his dragon’s wing, wounding both of them. Ozorn’s dragon began to lose altitude and wobble in the sky. Sensing an opportunity to finish the battle, Imbere turned his dragon around and headed back at his brother.
Ozorn, the smarter of the brothers, was only playing at being injured. In truth, he was setting his brother up for a master stroke. When Imbere got close enough, Ozorn Zozian directed his dragon to shoot a bolt of lightning at Imbere’s dragon.
It was a perfect hit. The lightning bolt came out of the dragon’s mouth, shot across the sky, and struck the head of Imbere’s dragon. The bolt of lightning did not stop there. Unlike storm giants and blue dragons who are immune to electricity, the sea dragon was very much susceptible to it. The shock of that lightning bolt rippled through every fiber of muscle in the sea dragon’s body causing it to become paralyzed.
The dragon fell and the only thing that Imbere could do was to levitate off of him and watch as the dragon struck the sharp rocky cliff one thousand feet below. Lightning continued to crash all around as the offspring of Nauphylaks lay dying, a sharp javelin shaped rock protruding from his shoulder.
Imbere began to drift in the direction of his dying dragon, but before he could reach it, Ozorn and his dragon got there first. Ozorn unsheathed a mighty sword made of magical electricity and leapt off his dragon about one hundred feet above the head of the sea dragon. Using no levitation, Ozorn dropped through the air with such speed that the crowd of onlookers gasped not knowing if Ozorn could survive the fall.
He did survive, and it was not a fall. It was a calculated strike. The force generated by the speed of his fall was enough to kill the dragon instantly. The sword sliced into the heart of the sea dragon and it breathed no more. That death had a ripple effect.
It was as though Imbere himself had been struck by the sword. He grabbed his chest in pain and could not breathe. The bond of anim vincula causes a parallel pain response. When one is injured, so too does the other feel that agony. Imbere weakly levitated to the plateau where the priest had once stood. There he fell to one knee. Breathing heavily, he took a few moments to clear the pain of losing his familiar. He needed to regroup and face his brother.
Ozorn was in no mood to give his brother quarter on that day. Before Imbere could recover, Ozorn was on him, beating him to a pulp in the frenzy storm giants call tempestus. Storm giants fighting in and around a massive storm often lose control of themselves in a berserker like frenzy. This is what was happening.
Imbere held his hands up in a last ditch effort to fend off his brother, but Ozorn was relentless. He sword in sheath, Ozorn beat on his brother’s head and chest like a mad gorilla. Blood began to flow and Imbere wobbled as consciousness fled. As Ozorn reached up and put both hands together for a killing hammer blow to the head, he suddenly stopped.
Realizing that his brother could not breathe easily, Ozorn got off of Imbere, walked a few paces away, and looked at his bloodied hands in disbelief. Lightning flashed all around him begging him to kill his brother. Thunder roared all around in anger of Ozorn’s hesitation.
“What must I do to not become such a savage beast? Is there no other way?”
Tears began to well up in Lord Ozorn Zozian’s eyes. The rain began again, responding to the emotional output of the more than likely winner of the contest.
Lord Imbere Zozian stood weakly, staring up at the storm and breathing in its beauty. He had never realized before now just how beautiful and majestic the mountain was.
“Finish me brother.”
And, like a being possessed, Ozorn Zozian drew his sword and buried it deep within his brother’s chest. As one final deafening bolt of lightning the size of which has never been seen again struck the mountain, its thunder could be heard for leagues. Smaller, more frequent lightning bolts then rained down from the clouds and water did as well.
Through chaos there was order. Two beings of the storm faced each other that day. One died by the other’s hand.
There King Ozorn Zozian, ruler of all storm giants, stood proudly and sadly. Langzou Moi Urlieth was once again the land of the storm giant king.
Recent Comments