CHAPTERONE

Coastal Mountains east of Ecali

The hooded man stood in brown robes, his bare feet buried in ankle-deep snow as he called into the ancient mineshaft’s entrance.

“Garmvander! Come forth,” The ancient man’s voice rasped as the full moon reflected the mountain snow around him, brightly illuminating the scene.

Within moments a low growl emanated from the shaft, and the shadows moved within. Two eyes glinted near the ceiling of the opening as a massive creature trudged out, ducking under the entrance stones to stand before the man. The gigantic thing stood nearly nine feet tall, covered in dense black fur, with humanlike broad, muscular shoulders and heavily muscled but unnaturally long arms and legs. A monstrous canine head topped its thick neck with wolf-like features and small tipped ears. “Vath dhaken rash khrr Rhathott.” It growled, looming over him.

The man’s gray lips sneered beneath the shadow of his hood, his thin, wrinkled fingers spread wide with irritation, “Pollute my ears with your filthy Jotun tongue again, and you won’t care for the result, dog.” He responded calmly.

The thing cocked its head to one side then closed its eyes. Lifting its head to the sky, the monster shrunk before him, its hair disappearing uncomfortably back into its skin, arms and legs pulling inward, and height diminishing until a tall, powerfully built man with thick black hair and an unshaven face stood in the jotun’s place.

“I didn’t know you were able to travel this far from Dhrumvelt, Abbot.” The man rumbled in a low but respectful tone. “I would have thought your brethren’s limits would have stopped you.”

The abbot’s wizened eyes narrowed with annoyance, “It’s uncomfortable, but I manage if the need arises,” he replied.

“What do you want from me?” The man asked, lowering his head.

“Freeport, Garmvander,” The Abbot replied, “I want you to gather a pack of your children and take it for me.”

Garmvander furrowed his brisling thick eyebrows, “I thought you had enough of my children in your dungeon to destroy several cities.”

Dhrumvelt’s abbot shook his head slowly, “They escaped, and I’m afraid I had to dispose of them.”

The Jotun sneered, “Bound to happen, I suppose.”

“It was,” the abbot agreed, “but I shipped many others to Ecali in the months before. No doubt they’ve been able to make more children for you since they’ve been there. I also conveyed a few to Freeport some time back. So, you should have no trouble collecting a group as you go.”

The broad man raised his chin thoughtfully.

“I’m not sending your uncontrolled children blindly to sew discord for the Church this time . . . I don’t want the city destroyed . .&nb