Elder Kardal Steelheart's Story

Kardal's people had finished evacuating and disconnecting the wider forge, leaving the settlements most powerful forge and half their home safe from the rampages of the walking catastrophe above ground and which the upper quarter of their mountain home existed. Kardal struck the black marble floor with his staff. much of his people were still recovering from the shock of it all happening again.

though the elder stoic in motion approached the paladin. "you enter this hallowed place with a purpose" the ancient being motioned to one of the surrounding smithing pits. "you are free to work. though this forge has long since stood silent. allow me and my ken to reignite it"

Kardal turned to face his people many of whom were already making ready for the reawakening of the forge. "we know our tasks, we know the monsters we now stand against once more." he speaks with a heavy breath and nods quietly before continuing. "and once more a soul forge shall be ignited so that Gaia's chosen may do battle against their foe."

with a heavy slam. Kardal strikes the ground with his staff, causing the marble to crack, those cracks filling with light as the energies and souls of the builder's dead are released to ignite the forge, azure blue flames igniting within the Furnace's core, soon the pit surrounding the colossal forge would fill with magma and from carved out river beds water would flow, the magic of the builders returning the forge to life. those smiths whos craft lay in the construction of magical arms and armours would wade into the magma, unhindered by the heat and empowered by the forge begin their tasks.

turning back to the paladin Kardal would hold out a small medallion attached to a platinum chain. "This artefact shall protect you from the heat of the forge."

”Cease.” Sheodin roared as he called a lightning bolt onto Ni’Thorne’s outstretched hand.

“Why reach for a tiny pinprick of light, far out of your reach, when a perfectly suitable target is right here?” Sheodin taunted, arms spread wide.

“Who do you serve, titan of earth, and what does your master promise you? How has he fulfilled those promises?”

Sheodin glanced towards the horizon where a massive maelstrom churned like a stirring cauldron. He felt the raw elemental power, the blinding inferno of magical energy, even from here. The archmage turned his attention back to Ni’Thorne and prepared a quick teleport should the titan attack.

He hoped he could distract him long enough for the plan to work...

"I humbly accept your offer. Many of Gaia's heroes are of approximately my stature...age and injury may have taken some of my strength and agility, but I should still be a reasonably competent tester."

With a bow, Gary accepted the medallion before turning to a vast tome filled mostly with sketches for weapons and armor alike. "It seems that many of your works were begun here, but are as of yet unfinished. Let's fix that. I believe it would be most fitting for my first work to be a reasonable facsimile of my personal weapon. Through ancient magics it is mine alone, but perhaps others may wish to fight as I once did. It relies on the wielder's ability to dodge and parry to serve as their shield, and in return it offers superior reach and power."

With that, he unsheathed his own blade, laid it on a gigantic work bench, and started making sketches of its specific dimensions. "Yes...I shall call this the Piercing Light. My deeds may live on, but I wish to leave a legacy as a weapon smith as well."

"Hey. Give me a hand with this? A lot of the tools around here are meant for smiths of your stature, not mine. These old bones...there was a time when I could work this place, but those days have passed. Age and old wounds leave me the body you see now." Gary was struggling to lift his work in progress into one of the many wondrous machines used in the work space. "It just would not do for me to make this all by hand, you see. Too much room for error. And should I prove incapable of finishing...I leave the rest to you."

He was ready to die if it meant making a weapon of such quality and power that it would be sought after and used by heroes yet unborn.

"ah yes, the size of our tools would hinder you..." with an amused chuckle the Ancient stepped away, returning a handful of minutes later with a small roll of leather; small by the standards of the ancient race. setting it down by the side of Gary's workspace, Kardal would reach and take the weight allowing the ageing paladin to guide the piece into place.

contained within the roll of leather a multitude of tools all that would be used in the forge, each bearing a pair of identical runes. the first of strength and the second of wisdom. Kardal raised his head slightly and listened the echoing carnage above shaking the firmament of Gaia.

"I must prepare the last of our wards against the coming storm. and the fall of the titan above."

Kardal turned. the forges lit, the tools at hand and the din of the craft began. Kardal allowed him the luxury of a smile and a moment to reminisce on the past. he left the heart of their home.

making his way towards what could only be described as a shrine. though once there he'd lay his staff across the alter and speak in a whispered tongue, in the language of his own.

Throughout the Forge, golems would reawaken returned from their ancient slumber, their cores glowing a light azure and slowly changing, becoming golden as the bedrock that surrounded the underground settlement was infused and reinforced by the barrier magics of the Builders.

Sheodin teleported away from Ni’Thorne, his spell leaving a concussive burst of energy in his wake to stun the titan. Time slowed from his perspective, and he saw the flying mountain soar into view. Veins of lightning danced across the molten surface, and a crown of red and white flames shrouded the mountain’s horizontal peak. The air rushed to get out of the missile’s way, but was compressed and heated before being shunted behind like a meteor’s contrail.

A moment passed - like a fraction of a heartbeat. The mountain range held its breath as the sky burned with magic and fire. Sheodin met the eyes of his doppelganger, and they stepped into one another. He slipped into the ethereal just as the uprooted and reforged island struck Ni’Thorne’s chest like the fist of an angry god.

BOOM!

A shockwave tore across the region. Forests were incinerated. Smaller meteors were launched for miles like grapeshot. The floating mountains spun and drifted from the cataclysmic impact. The earth itself trembled from the destructive power brought down upon the titan, and collateral damage swept across the land like a wildfire.

Sheodin’s heart was as heavy as the mutated hammer in his hand, but he hoped the lives lost would be an acceptable sacrifice in order to stop the sure destruction brought about by the Colossus.

As Sheodin landed his final blow, Eras screamed. Ni'Thorne reached out to the angered god, pleading, begging, to be given more to overcome this wreckening. Eras was not a kind God. Eras yanked from the great mass of Ni'thorne what was left.

Ni'thorne had failed.

A tidal wave of dust and debris cascaded down the form of the once great Titan as it crumbled in on itself. Chest cavity more a hole than anything else, the titan of stone falling to the gravity of Gaia below. A storm of rocks peppered the area surrounding Ni'thorne. The arms of the great titan flopped forward, folding around to hug the base of the newly formed flat topped mountain that moments ago was a Titan.

Ni'Thorne was dead, never to rise again.