It-That-Slays tilts his head. "I have not seen Aerguon since the day the wall was completed. Still, that he yet exists is not terribly surprising. Aerguon has physical strength equivalent to a typical close combat focused Dragon- which is to say probably roughly comparable to Lord Boros. However, more importantly he wields the strange Daemonic magic- with words or gestures or other, more complex means of communication, he can enact changes to his environment. And he is far more proficient with it than any of the lesser Daemons. It is neither the draconic art of Weaving nor the mortal Sorcery, and indeed the land as held by Castae destroys enchantment and undoes Sorcery alike..."
At this, Santa Claus rather abruptly tugs on the twine stretching through the portal and retrieves his magical Christmas lights, examining them with a quick glance. The portal itself did provide at least SOME illumination, so Lord Boros should be able to find his way back without trouble, after all.
Do the lights appear to have been damaged or disempowered? They were in Castae's realm for only a limited time.
Moreover, like all the Daemons of Castae, he is durable- tremendously so, in fact, in his case- and not alive. Similarly to a Dragon and their Wyrms, the Daemons beneath him respond to his intent and will, and so he does not necessarily need a means of communication to enact a ploy. He is skilled and cunning in battle..."
The creature... golem... Daemon, whatever it is, is unable to resist, and so through the portal it comes with. Lord Boros and the Chanter come through, and as the Chanter begins to speak once more, It-That-Slays moves, it's arms lifting towards the Daemon. Somehow, the Chanter sets on fire, melting to slag, even though the Dragon never touched it. Then, irritable, the Dragon says "You do not leave a Chanter alive to continue speaking. The name of their master seizes Territory with Taint absolutely, and if you are already inside their realm they can do far worse."
The Chanters seem to have no more life to them than so many engineered animals. And unless this 'Jyre' and these 'Heralds' can be persuaded to stand aside and let them go in peace, which seems unlikely... Well, they will have to be destroyed, he supposes. Probably in great numbers.
Santa Claus nods to It-That-Slays, sighing. "Nothing I've run into was more than
very slightly like Chanters, and I wouldn't be surprised if Lord Boros and Sir Bill* have never seen the like. I'm sure we won't make the same mistake again."
He turns to Bill and Boros. "These 'chanters' are not independent, self-aware creatures. Not like yourselves, or the humans and other species of my own home. They are simple vehicles for generating and channeling magical power, with animalistic awareness at best. If we are to escape the prison run by this Castae and his lieutenants, the Heralds, it would be better to destroy any of these things that draw near."
Santa Claus takes the precaution of subtly mispronouncing the name of Castae, and all his Heralds, whenever he speaks of them to the others. He does not know whether their names have power in the mouths of creatures other than their own daemons, but he has no pressing desire to learn the hard way that the answer is "yes." Santa will continue to do this thing when mentioning Castae, and all other supernatural creatures affiliated with the Jyre, unless otherwise noted.
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*A courtesy title, intended to indicate Bill's status as a strong and honorable warrior and defender of his people.
Then it turns back to Santa. "Once, I fought the First Alpha of the Jree. The Jree, too, commanded Daemons, although without the direct connections exhibited by these Jyre. The Jree clearly expended some form of effort for each Daemon they needed to replace, and in that regard the Jyre tactics are identical- they may not significantly strain themselves for the common lower types, but they treat nothing as entirely expendable. It's true that Castae could likely replace the loss of a Herald, but could he do so easily he would surely not employ the individually far weaker lower types. "
Santa rubs his full beard, thinking.
"There were five enclaves in Castae's realm; this is one. I infer that each of the other four imprisons a Dragon such as yourself. Each was guarded by another Herald. If we can destroy or neutralize Aerguon, perhaps we can find a way to travel to another of the enclaves and overpower its guardian as well. A besieger who fights enemies both within and without tends to fare poorly."
A pause, almost nostalgic. "Of course, Castae himself has never dared face me. I expect this is because, compared to any of the Jree, Honox was far less imposing in direct combat, lacking a body. Given my claws rended him all the same, Castae would likely also be vulnerable."
Then It-That-Slays returns it's attention to immediate matters. "If Aerguon sees fit to physically relocate himself, he likely expects to need his body as a tool, not just his mind. This does not need to imply a plan to enter my Territory, if he expects us to breach his, but that he responds implies he will target one of you three."
Invisibly to all but Santa, It-That-Slays Territory begins to... shift, in character. Animals and plants begin to change, too slow to be visible to an ordinary watchful eye... yet change they do, steadily, throughout the world. "He means, without a doubt, as he always has, to take any tool that might break his stranglehold from me. I do not aim to allow that."
Santa nods once again. "Certainly, we must all prepare to protect our own lives." He smiles, a hint of his usual good cheer returning to his expression, which had grown somber. "Thank you for your hospitality and the succour of your realm and its defenders, It-That-Slays." Idly, Santa Claus wonders if the Dragon has ever been thanked in all its long life...
As he does so, he reaches back into the Bag with his right hand and withdrawing a meter-long metal knobkerrie, striped red, green, and white.
Droplets of air condense into liquid oxygen and nitrogen along most of the Northwards Pole's length, dripping down towards the handle end where they tracelessly evaporate back into air. Those standing close feel a steady, constant wind pulling inwards towards the Pole as it draws the heat out of the air, seemingly vanishing it into nothingness. And those with the appropriate sensoria can detect a
brutally intense magnetic field wrapped tightly around the artifact. The field is easily a million times stronger than anything naturally found on an Earthlike world, perhaps greater still. Fortunately, it is bound tightly enough that it does not endanger or inconvenience other beings. The magnetism alone would be enough to kill many kinds of mortal creature, should they come into contact with the Pole.
Beta Ray Bill's awareness of mystical energies tells him that the Northwards Pole is an artifact of the same general order as Stormbreaker, a thing of myth and power beyond easy mortal understanding. It is, however, a considerably lesser example of that order. Stormbreaker is more capable, flexible, and powerful by a wide margin.
Simultaneously to the purposeful changes in the life in It-That-Slays Territory, the Wyrms spread about begin to rapidly move. Most converge on the group, but others settle down to particular tasks. "Had I wished to, I could have forced Aerguon to constantly spend troops against me, but it became clear the result would be the same to no benefit. Now, with opportunity arisen, I have ploys I can make. There are methods I used in the War that Aerguon has never seen from me. That Castae never witnessed, nor Honox or their master. I am not lacking in ingenuity. But I cannot plan around you three without some sense of your own abilities and intentions."
"My nature and calling is to distribute gifts to the people of my homeworld, and do good for those in need, during their coldest, darkest hours. I will fight here, for this Castae stands between me and my home as surely as he has imprisoned you. As to my abilities..."
"I am blessed with awareness of the character and intentions of all in the realm that I occupy. When I was in your territory, I sensed you and our comrades here. When in the 'taint' of Castae, I sensed the whereabouts of all his Heralds, though they be many trillions of leagues away, and I believe all of his daemons, as well. My senses cannot reach through the walls and portals between your realm and his, sadly. Nor, when in Castae's realm, was I able to perceive the insides of the enclaves that I imagine contain your fellow Dragons."
"As you have seen, I am... quicker than the ordinary run of being. When given cause, I have traveled and acted ten times faster than you have seen so far, and sometimes faster still. I do not know my own utmost limits, having never been given need to test them. Since I expect it likely that I will be forced to give battle shortly, you can expect that I will use this speed against our enemies, both the many demons and the lone power of Aerguon."
"Within this Bag-" Santa shifts the weight on his shoulder- "I carry instances of every gift and marvel that I and my servants have seen fit to create for the benefit of my world. Though its weight is...
considerable, greater than that of the mountains, I bear it with joy and pride. Any of my gifts that may be of use are at the disposal of my comrades, of course." The big man smiles ironically. "Though I admit, I did not foresee the need to stock the Bag with weaponry, and I seldom carry many things along those lines."
@CV12Hornet
@TheMaskedReader
@I just write
