"It's a disaster!" cried Saturin, and it appeared that she was right. Flaming oil and burning timbers floated and burned amongst the drowning and struggling Aquitanian sailors. The Hammer of Theodor remained clear of the flames, but seemed insignificant compared to the size of the massive Grimdark Beast. Battle monks threw grappling hooks up the sides of the beast, trying to form climbing ropes which would enable them to climb on top of the monster. Beast headed Northmen warriors hacked at the ropes with battle axes, doing their best to repel the monks.
The Thunderfist continued to pour shells into the side of the beast. Gouts of blue blood and flames erupted, every time a 100 pound shell struck home. The Prince Ludendorf kept its distance, firing broadsides into the mid section of the monster. The gunners of the Hammer of Theodor also continued to fire broadside after broadside, at point blank range. Most of their 16 pound cannon balls seemed to bounce off and fall harmlessly into the ocean. Suddenly, bolts of crackling blue lightning erupted from the top of the wizard's disk, striking the upper decks of the Hammer of Theodor.
Saturin, Bearclaw, Celeste and Elana all began to chant spellforms. Something had to be done to assist the fighters. Magical green and white energies flowed up and outwards towards the Hammer of Theodor and the remains of the Ceremonis. Presumably, the spells helped, but it was difficult for James to determine just how much help was being rendered, at this distance. Truth be told, the rolling battle was ridiculously disorganised and chaotic. Battlers from both sides fell off the side of the Grimdark, into the ocean, where they splashed about helplessly. Bolts of pure energy struck the Hammer of Theodor. Lord Cetacean's Orcas bit and gashed the far side of the beast.
James's gaze was caught by a scene developing on the decks of the Quendya, which was cruising fairly closely beside the Thunderfist, just off the starboard bow. Four giant eagles were being connected to chariot-like vehicles of some sort. The vehicles bore no wheels, and when James had noticed them in the harbour, he had assumed their function to be some sort of lifeboat. However, he now realised their true purpose, as one by one the lightweight vehicles were towed aloft by giant eagles. Each eagle sky chariot bore an elven warrior, armed with a javelin. The fourth, and last sky chariot carried the largest and most powerful elf that James had ever seen, and he carried the largest javelin of all. The four sky vehicles rose into the air, climbing into the wind, and once they reached an altitude of 1000 feet or so, they swooped northwards in the direction of the Grimdark Beast.
"Reinforcements!" shouted Thorgill, from his perch on the crowsnest.
Sure enough, far to the west, a battle line of two decked battle ships were approaching the ongoing conflict. 'Just what we need!' thought James. The combined firepower of 12 first rate ships would surely be enough to overwhelm the massive Grimdark Beast. But would they get here in time?
That question took James's concentration back towards the naval battle, which continued to rage. Screams and cries by the hundreds blended into a general din. At the highest point of the Grimdark Beast, the whirling magical disk supporting the four controlling wizards changed its nature. The disk expanded and thickened shooting blue sparks out the sides. A fist-like apparition formed and reached out to strike the Hammer of Theodor. Once, twice, three times, the massive fist form struck the bow of the Hammer of Theodor, cracking and fracturing the barbed lance, freeing the Grimdark Beast. The monster was free and began to writhe up and down, propelling itself backwards and away from the Empire ship, as well as distancing itself from the Quendya and the Thunderfist.
"It is getting away!" shouted Celeste.
Slowly, the creature rotated itself in the 10 foot ocean waves. Once clear of the Hammer of Theodor, and the flaming debris left from the Ceremonis, the monster began to accelerate towards the east, in the direction of the Norgeland fjords. Lord Cetaceans whales seemed to have had enough, at this point, and circled back and away from the Grimdark, obviously exhausted.
Suddenly, one of the elven sky chariots descended towards the beast. Even from this distance James could see the bright green sparks of the ensorcelled javelin falling into the slipstream of the diving, eagle borne chariot. As it approached, in its dive, the monster clearly responded to the threat and swerved away from the approaching danger. The elf warrior threw the javelin towards the side of the beast, leaving a green glowing trail in the air behind the projectile. It struck with far more impact than seemed reasonable, given the massive size of the Grimdark. An eerie and overwhelmingly evil squeal rang out over the waves. But the beast continued to accelerate. A second sky chariot attacked, and a third. Each time hits were registered which caused obvious pain to the beast, but nothing seemed capable of slowing its progress. There was just one sky chariot remaining to attack.
The elven hero swooped down out of the marine layer of low cloud and approached swiftly from the stern. The Grimdark Beast turned hard to starboard, changing direction almost impossibly swiftly, in order to avoid being struck by the fourth javelin. Swiftly flew the green flash of the magical javelin, skimming just above the waves, and striking the gargantuan tail of the beast at the moment when it was swiped to the maximum extent to the left. The spear point punctured clear through the tail, emerging on the other side, and continued into the main body of the Grimdark penetrating deeply into the thick hide. However, the fletching of the javelin remained embedded into the scaly tail of the beast, acting like a set of barbs. The end result was to nail the beasts tail to its side, immobilising the use of it, and leaving the beast in a permanent turn towards the starboard side. Monstrous screams rang out over the surface of the waves, as the beast struggled to free itself, but to no avail. The Grimdark Beast began to circle helplessly. The panicked Northern wizards gesticulated and cast futile spells. The few remaining Northmen attempted to slide down the sides of the writhing beast, in an attempt to chop at the magical elven javelin, but it remained out of reach. Each attempt on the slimy surfaces resulted in another Northman falling into the ocean.
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All twelve ships of the line, joined by the Prince Ludendorf, caught up to the Grimdark and began to pour broadside after broadside into the struggling beast. The combined firepower of all 13 battleships overwhelmed what remained of its strength and magical protections. Even the Grimdark Beast could not withstand the combined 700+ cannons of the Northern Fleet. Blue gore covered the surface of the sea for a dozen square miles, reeking of evil vapours.
What remained was a gruesome business. The ocean was littered with blue gore and the mangled and scorched corpses of mutated Northmen. And they were not all corpses. That said, no quarter was given and no prisoners were taken. All of the crew of the Grimdark perished that day. Except for the four wizards of darkness. Their bodies were never recovered and several sailors reported seeing their disc rise up through the marine cloud layer, and fly east towards Norgeland. Another, even more disturbing sighting was reported. High up to the east, a large creature had been seen circling in the arctic outflow winds. Two of the sharp eyed elven lookouts judged the object, which appeared to be no more than a speck to James's eyes, to be an Ice Dragon.
The rescue mission to recover sailors from the Hammer of Theodor and the Ceremonis was another problem altogether. More than five hundred perished and hundreds more were badly injured and burned. For two days ships scoured the waters of the Norgeland Sea in search of survivors. Elana and Celeste did all they could to comfort and heal the wounded but the large majority received no magical assistance. Broken limbs were set and splinted. Burns were bandaged and treated with herbal salves.
Finally, on the third day, the Thunderfist was released from its naval responsibilities and the quest to Islandia was resumed. The 'free' coal and supplies, received back in Brogdar harbour, had been dearly paid for.
The Thunderfist set a course for Islandia. The Quendya accompanied the Dwarf vessel, providing aerial scouting and mutual protection from threats. Generally speaking, it was a rare thing for elves and dwarfs to co-operate in such matters, but both captains agreed that large scale machinations were afoot. The sighting of the Ice Dragon was particularly noteworthy, in the judgement of Menthrial Hesto. If confirmed, it represented the first sighting of an Ice Dragon in decades.
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Petruchio Bones sighed. The Grimdark had been reduced to so much ocean refuse. But the disastrous sortie had accomplished his goals. The interloper James had been located. He was a member of the crew of the dwarf coal scow, and they were in transit to Islandia, Petruchio was sure of that. Somehow, the Animalia clan had become aware of the stirrings of the Ice Dragons. Just like them, meddling bastards every one. There would be a confrontation with the Guardians of Islandia. So be it.
Soaring higher and higher, Petruchio cruised upwards into the northeast winds. Dreadcold would need to fly all night and most of the next day to make the necessary return to Glacierland. Time passed more quickly these days. Without the burdens of living flesh there was no need to eat, and most every other human failing was a long forgotten memory for Petruchio. All that mattered was defeating the Animalia lords and destroying what remained of the Fire Dragons of Islandia.
Late the next day, Dreadcold was circling lower and lower over the Northmen village of Vanderblok. Surrounded by glacier covered mountains and silt-laden rivers, the ice continent of Glacierland was a formidable spectacle. A crowd of mutant Northmen met the arrival of Petruchio bones with jubilation. Their legendary leader had returned and they celebrated. As the cheers died down, Petruchio addressed the violent men of the north.
"I have returned to complete the unfinished campaign to defeat the Theodorites! The Chaos Gods have issued a call to action! As of old, every village will produce a champion, and those champions will accompany me to the Ice Field of the Dragons! You have 3 weeks to choose your champion, and equip him with weapons and heraldry of your village. That champion will join others from across our land to form a strike force to defeat the Guardians of Islandia. After our victory we will follow the trade winds into the heart of the Holy Prussian Empire, and defeat the Theodorists!" Petruchio Bones had issued his instructions.
More cheers rang out, followed by rhythmic drum beating and chanting. The deep tones echoed off of the fjord walls. Ice layers, up to a mile thick hung off of the sides of the mountain plateau.
Petruchio Bones mounted Dreadcold and slapped the reins against the sides of the gigantic Ice Beast, they rose into the air and circled the ecstatic village. For the next three weeks, Petruchio and Dreadcold made appearances in every Northman village. The last community notified, Dreadcold and his master flew to the coldest section of the frozen continent. Even in the middle of summer, the temperatures remained close to freezing, and the ancient ice was more than a mile thick. Dreadcold circled downwards, coming to rest on his favoured surface. The full blue moon of Ragnar hung in the glowing midnight arctic sky, powerfully close to the Earth. Luna hung in a crescent shape far to the west.
It was time to awaken the Ice Dragons of Glacierland. More than a century ago the battles over Islandia and Glacierland had raged. One by one the Ice Dragons fell to the combined forces of Elves and Theodor worshipping humans. Every dragon that could be saved was returned to the ice fields, where they had lain and recuperated over the decades. Just as Dreadcold had recovered, these beasts also had reinvigorated themselves. All that was required was for Petruchio to call them back to duty.
The ancient bone figure stood atop the glacier field and summoned the dark energies of the Ragnar moon. He had been planning for this day for years, when the Chaos moon would make its closest approach to the Ice Continent. Blue streaks of power shot across the plateau as one by one the Ice Dragons awoke. Icequakes produced fracture lines and cannon-like shots of thunder echoed across the glacial plain. Eruptions of blue ice fountains arched up into the air, and cold blue white scaled heads on long necks broke through, onto the surface. Shaking out the stiffness of decades of recovery, the monstrous beasts clawed to the surface and extended their wings towards the Chaos moon, absorbing the dark magical energies. Once all 75 of the Beasts of Chaos had composed themselves, Petruchio raised his staff of ice into the air and pounded the haft onto the glacier shaking the foundations of the continent.
"Choose your champion!" bellowed out Petruchio bones. "Each of you, choose your champion, and right now fly to join him! The time of battle has arrived! We will defeat the Guardians of Islandia with the backing of Ragnar! Begon!"
Every Glacierland village received an Ice Dragon that night. By morning, each was equipped with a champion rider, ready for battle.

