Beyond and below the hollow mountains

The pass into the mountains was a barren gorge. Little rain fell amongst the peaks and little respite was to be found from the sharp cold winds blowing through them. Sosir would have silently envied torsun for his thick coat of fur like feathers, had he not been from a hardy stock as he was. Light fell brightly in between the peaks during noon hours, but before and beyond the chill and darkness often reigned.

Torsun was still not sure what to make of the dour youth. Clearly wanderlust drove Sosir onwards, his actions betrayed a deep sense of responsibility. Or at least that's what the giant hoped, for the other possible motivation would be genocidal hatred. As the path led out of the gorges and hidden but barren vales it ascended along the peaks of the mountains. He told Sosir of a small tribe of ettins that lived nearby on a secluded peak.

“I cannot say I like the lot, I’ve lived and worked with those living gadgets and would steer clear of them had our rations not yet been eaten... Fair then, take us to the pale puppets.” Sosir answered.

Torsun was taken by surprise by the rash view of the industrious folk, but agreed they needed food. At least two days of travel through barren, snowy mountains could prove too much even for the hardy travellers if they were to do this on an empty stomach.

Sosir was not much of a talker. He had learned to do so well enough from tales the elders told during the long pinewood evenings by the glowing embers. He had simply never learned to use words as a tool. Torsun did seem to have a way with words though. The friendly titan had been talkative all through their journey, explaining to the unexpressive nornir about the world they were in, the beings that had created it and them somehow. He was told of the ettinae and the machine lords they served by instinct, of the grendels which had recently found organisation and yet became more savage. He learned of the countless tribes of Nornir living within the ring and the Jotnar hoping to lead them to security and unity, and failing more with every attempt.

Sosir expected Torsun did not think he listened to the continuous stream of knowledge, and the tall thing simply spoke out of boredom and awkwardness. Sosir however was an excellent listener as long as he kept his attention, something the barren march greatly helped with. He noted to himself of the different races and their inclinations, and how many things had recently started to change. Something which coincided with his first emergence of the warp.

A light snow and frigid haze made the falling dusk both gorgeous and unpleasant. Sosir had seen no evidence of a settlement nearby and started to wonder if his companions' memories were of a long since abandoned village rather than recent ones. Ready to suggest this to Torsun, he noticed the heavy stone piles beside the path. Interspersed at regular intervals, he realised these were intentional constructions. Soon enough along the path the piles became columns, and columns became arches. As the road twisted through the mountains the stonework became more and more elaborate. Sosirs awe soon turned to unease when he noticed bones stacked in with the stonework.

“It looks worse than it is, Sosir. The ettin here, as ettin do, live for work and toil. It is their sole duty and reason to live, this tribe builds and chisels simply up until the moment they die, after which their work is continued and their body made part of the masonry.”

Sosirs seemed less tense.

“That sounds like the ettin alright. I can respect one willing to die in their duty and purpose, be it a senseless one to me.”

Soon the arches became a fully enclosed tunnel. Mosaiced pathways crossed the road and bas reliefs at ettin height along the tunnel walls told of long journeys, the moving of great monoliths and trade from and fro the mountains. Torsun held great interest in these and to Sosirs chagrin often paused to study them. Passing through enormous and intricately carved open stone gates, the sound of work and quiet chattering reached them. 

Surprisingly bright plazas made up the town. High walls were witted with the hollow homes of of what could be hundreds of ettins. The open spaces below this were bustling with activity, yet apart from animals and dragged sleds the volume remained at a library or living room chatter. Plum animals with a thick fatty fur and a snout made for rooting stood in central stone pens on the plazas. Even the soiled floor in the pen was made of a simple but well made mosaic. Baskets with cheese and roots were carried between about, dried pinebark ground out in the open, on beautifully carved millstones.

All of this industry seemed odd enough after the deserted quiet of the mountains and the barbarism Sosir had met elsewhere on the strange looping land, but all of it was done by what seemed to be the whitest of snowmen. The little industrial people were all covered in pale white wool. Some had a softer, more natural pinkish blush on their faces and hands, but some were a sharp sky-blue underneath the white wool. 

“Generally, the two different colours hold different roles in this tribe. The blue have little interest in anything that is not stone, and constructed and carved all we see. The horned brighter ones venture out in the mountains, collecting stone, food and other materials to keep the town alive.”

Sosir nodded. He was well known with hierarchy in ettin society and these manners did fit what he knew of them. The thought of simply taking what they needed and to move on played in his mind, but the ettins here seemed quite somewhat less civilised and more proud. These creatures could likely also teach him some of their craft. He left Torsun talking and bargaining on the marketplace and soon made his way to the crafts halls, putting his strength and growing stature soon to a good use.

Torsun was again surprised by his new companion. He had expected a disdain from Sosir, not immediate fraternisation with the industrial folk. He had soon found lodgings for them both, a simple but comfortably furnished hollow on the dustier lower levels. Days soon passed and Sosirs labour paid for woollen cloaks and plenty of food to get them out of the mountains. The ombre Norn did not suggest continuing their journey though, and the callusing of his paws and growth of his shoulders suggested no lazy work ethic. Torsun studies markings all over the town. The ancient chiselled reliefs told stories of times past, and the past was an instinctive drive of his people.

Great abandoned halls could be found in the mountain, built by ettins in the past solely to prove their worth as masons and carvers. Many of it recalled mostly the history of the mountain itself, rather than that of the ringed ship it stood in. Here he found rows upon rows of statues, many depicting skilled carvers of days gone. All but one. One statue carven from a dark rock looked like a Norn in his prime, clad in course, heavy clothing and thick plates. A slight resemblance he noticed to Sosir. The coincidence and odd appearance of the statue intrigued him, and he made it his mission to find its significance.

Sosir had learned the basics. His understanding of construction had grown steadily over the weeks, his skill in flint tool making quite improved. He would never be able to hold a candle to the competence of the ettins, but he was content with what he had gained. Torsun seemed hesitant to leave, talking about something he still desired to learn. When Sosir simply packed his bags and wrapped himself in his cloak Torsun made his decision swiftly enough. 

The two walked through the courtyards towards the gates, leaving the quiet babbling of the marketplace behind them. Neither enjoyed the thought of going out into the icy winds again, both of them captivated by sullen anticipation, even Torsun did not talk. They did not reach the frigid gale however. When they came to the massive and splendid gates that sheltered the town it was shut with its clean carven stone perfection. 

Unsure why it was closed, but assuming weather conditions being the cause, they turned around. They had not moved far back before they met a small group: the towns foremen and women of each industry.

The horned foreman of the gatherers meekly took the word:”Tall and honoured guests, I see you were ready to leave. We had hoped to keep you busy and content with enough work, Sosir.”

The dark brown Norn gritted his teeth and had already lost his manners. He barked back:”You speak of me specifically! I’m I not allowed to go where I want?”

“You are not, no. My apologies but we do not want to repeat our people past mistakes”

“Past mistakes!? You machine folk have helped countless travellers and traders through these peaks! What would make me different!” Sosir spat. His wanderlust had been halted long enough, and in him burned the same flame that had him jump into the swirling blue gash in space before.

Torsun placed his large hand on Sosirs shoulder. “They don't mean travellers in general, Sosir. They mean a singular traveller that looked like you.”

The ettins nodded in agreement, even the horned ones did so, clumsily. ”Ages ago we helped an ombre Norn. We fed him, taught him our crafts and we healed his wounds when he stumbled in through our gates. The fire of his heart led onward though, and in due time he was known and remembered only in terror. After his reign none like him were seen again. Until you, Sosir.”

The stocky and bright blue forewoman of the carvers added:”you are still our honoured guest! It's just that that is what you will be, forever.”

Sosir stopped gritting his teeth and appeared very calm outwardly. Silently and with long strides he walked back past the ettins, who seemed to think the situation was resolved.

“You’re allowed to leave at any time, wise one. You will simply have to so so without your companion.”

Torsun nodded. He knew little of his companion, but giving up was not in the norns nature. He followed him, hoping he could prevent him from doing anything rash. 

He followed Sosir through the plazas, the granaries then through the communal galleries. Sosir was running by now, ettins who he passed gave them confused looks. The confusion turned to alarm, and soon many of the meek folk followed them.

Sosir ducked through a gate into a tunnel, Torsun jumped after him. He hit his hard head on the archway above it and felt dust and grit falling in his neck, along with the pain. He was holding his head with a curse when he heard the grate swiftly slam behind him. The pitter-patter of the short ettin legs in pursuit was nearing the gate.

“These machineheads won’t change their mind, Torsun. Nothing you or I say can get me out of these vaults and despite our combined might those gates are simply too heavy. Once these industrious critters have something in their head the stars will fall down before they change their minds again.”

Rubbing his head, Torsun answered with a groan. 

“Please, gentle guests! These gates must be open to us!” a panicked ettin exclaimed.

An odd expression of twisted victory came over Sosirs face.

“Swear to let me leave the town, and in turn I’ll spare the hatchery!”

Tursun shot a shocked look to sosir, who in turn gave him a wink. He was no great brave adventurer or natural diplomat, and anxously felt he would have to trust sosirs plan.

The ettins seemingly calmed down, and with a solemn and defeated look over them said:”we have a responsibility, Sosir. The mistake of our ancestors is not to be repeated, however great the sacrifice pains us.”

No answer was offered back by the norn as he turned and walked into the hallway. He could hear workers try to break down the door but knew it would likely hold. His stride hastened to a hurry, and so did Torsuns.

“How will this help your case, little norn? A slaughter of the young will seal their view of you. Perhaps even set the ettins off in a great crusade against the Nornir!”

Sosir said nothing and kept running. They turned into corridor after corridor, past different doors and hallways. The stone tunnels walls and elaborate carvings simplified with every stairway down. Eventually metal hallways and the cool glittering speckled endless blanket of space could be seen through the outer windows under their feet.

Sosir slowed down and looked back with a grin. The old giant archivist only then understood that the horrible threat the young norn had sworn had been a distraction, and nothing more. The barbaric little thing had used the culture and preconceptions of the stone carving folk against them. 

Together they bore their fairly gained rations with the mirth of escapees, unfairly having become fugitives. They wandered the confusing and cold metal labyrinth of the outer hull for an exit, the uncaring stars below holding vigil over their journey.

Writers note: the ettins of the hollow mountain were based upon the yettin and the cool weather blue ettins mk112 is currently working on. The latter is as of yet not available, though the former can be found here.