A fortress of ice and magic. A city built upon a mountain. A vein of pulsing planetary mana. A people built upon the frozen wastelands of the north and the corpses that lived before them.

Jotunheim stands as one of the oldest and most resilient of fortresses. Even the dwarf city of Svartalfheim is but a child compared to ancient and rich history of the legendary city of the north. Not even in beauty does Jotunheim fail. The only place that is older would be Alfeim, the city of the Elves protected by the world tree, Yggdrasil.

Shiro flourishes forward with a [Fencer’s] grace as he gestures upwards with a giddy smile.

“Welcome to Jotunheim.”

Artyom stares upwards, his breath catching in his throat as he can’t tear his eyes away from the awe-inspiring city made of glowing runic ice. Spires of ice kiss the sky, surpassing any skyscraper that Artyom had ever seen before. Arches are carved into the walls surrounding the base of the city. Surrounding the walls lies a moat the width of a dozen football fields, filled with frigid water and spiked ice. A bridge of ice reaches across the chilly depths. Waves of blue energy can be seen pulsing up the walls, the ramparts, the supports, the pillars, the towering statues. Everything looks to have mana flowing through them.

It is also the point at which Artyom realizes that the city, though described as being built on a mountain, does not live up to that descriptor any longer. The mountain, through digging, construction, and most probably time, no longer exists and has been entirely replaced by ice.

“It's… beautiful.” exclaims Alissa, her eyes seemingly sparkling with wonder.

Zeek merely snorts, having seen the city innumerable times throughout his life. After all, it is here that he was born.

After a bit of staring, Shiro finally interrupts the silent gawking.

“Alright, you can sightsee later. Right now, we still have a bit of a ways to go if we want to enter and see the city proper.”

He points over the moat to one of the bridges.

“We’ll be taking the bridge. It's the easiest and fastest way to the city… well, the most reasonable by foot. Make sure to keep up with the caravan”

He begins walking forward, with the caravan moving at his heels. It doesn't take long before the ground changes from snow to ice and the group begins to meet up with other groups near the bridge.

“Damn, I was hoping to get here before everyone else.” Shiro shakes his head.

He then sighs. “Damn those wyverns.”

The wyvern attack had delayed their arrival several days. Too many were wounded from the fighting and needed time to recover, as well as time to collect the hide and other valuable parts from the kills.

Artyom frowns, gazing at the long line of people and carts. Most of the people are carrying goods of some form and practically all are large in stature and heavily muscled.

“Why is the line moving so slowly?”

Shiro looks back, acknowledging Artyom's question.

“Ah, right. You’re new to the north. Well, everyone who wishes to enter the city must strip down until they are naked and have their bodies checked for the marks of gods. Jotunheim dislikes most religions, and only certain followers are allowed to enter.”

“Eir.” Artyom states as he looks at Alissa.

Shiro nods. “She is indeed the most popular and one of the most respected.”

“Eir is the best!” Alissa says with a smile. She is a follower of the goddess, as are many others.

“Indeed.” Shiro chuckles.

Zeek grunts to Artyom, “Eir is one of the very few Gods that accepts everyone and doesn't play politics with other gods. It is this nature that has allowed her religion to spread.” Zeek explains, his gaze turning towards a mountain. A small smile forms on his lips.

“Seems counterintuitive. Accepting everyone would cause a great deal of corruption.” Artyom says.

“Eir would not allow that!” Alissa exclaims, but both Shiro and Zeek shake their heads.

“He’s right, young lady. Up here in the north, corruption is near nonexistent., but the south and everywhere else, Eir’s followers are not the most moral. In my time as a traveling mercenary, I have seen the [Priestesses] selling themselves for coin and the [Priests] charging huge amounts for healing.”

Alissa frowns, unsure what to say. Ever since she was young, her mother had taught her to respect the gods and to ignore her father who always told her to be wary of them. So far, she thought he was being paranoid. After hearing this, she is no longer so sure.

“He’s here.” Zeek says, pointing towards a nearby mountain.

The others look up, their eyes squinting at a figure in the distance.

“What is…” Artyom stops as the figure jumps, the ground explodes under his feet as the man accelerates through the air, over the spikes, and then crashes into the city's wall. His arm lodges into the wall, keeping him suspended on its surface. The huge figure then raises his other arm and then slams it into the wall. Cracks form. He slams again, and again, and again. The wall breaks and creates a sizable hole. The figure dashes through and enters the city. Then, the wall of ice begins to mend itself on its own. Mana converges around the wound, fixing the damage in less than a minute.

Shiro and many of the mercenaries begin to chuckle. Even Zeek has a smile on his face.

“What… happened?” Alissa voices, seeing people laughing around.

Shiro gives her a smile. “That's just our Jarl. He’s late for lunch.”

__________________________________________________________________________

After an hour passes, a smaller group of a dozen women show up. Each is wearing a white cloak with the image of an icepick on their backs. They walk past the lines, giving little heed to the others. None stop them though.

Even Shiro backs away from the women, many of which look somewhat pissed.

“Who are they?” Artyom asks.

Shiro swallows his spit. “They are Jotunheim’s elite [mage] force. Most of them are [Frost Witches] or stronger. The one leading them is Szuzad and she’s arguably the most feared caster in all of Jotunheim.”

Artyom looks at her, finding her features to be not human. Her skin is slightly bluish and white while sporting long ears. She isn't human.

“[Hunter's Insight]” Artyom exclaims.

Shiros’ eyes pop out of his head. “Shit.”

 

The woman stops quickly, her gaze swerving toward Artyom and those around him. Her frown intensifies as her eyes begin to glow. She begins to walk towards the group with clear anger. Her posse of females following her dutifully.

“You dare!” she calls out.

Artyom feels something in the air shift as a chill goes down his back. A pressure seems to place itself on his mind, a cold fear. It’s not one that seems to physically affect him, but every cell in his body acts as though it is.

It’s as though someone was walking over his grave.

Shiro quickly stands in front of Artyom. His hands rises up into a placating fashion.

“Miss Szuzad, I humbly apologize for my companion's usage of a skill. He is new here and has not had the north’s rules fully explained to him yet.”

Szuzad gives Shiro a look so sharp it could cleave stone. “Shiro Bloodborn, the rules of the north are absolute. I will not take such an insult lying down.” At her words, the air cools further, affecting more of the people within the vicinity. Even Shiro begins to feel goosebumps.

All eyes quickly turn towards the woman, many people backing away or attempting to gain some distance from her as her eyes begin to glow a bright white.

“Szuzad, you really should learn to control that temper of yours.”

Like a switch turning off, the Aura’s effects vanishas a Domain expands forward. The feeling of cold instantly disappears.

Zeek shuffles forward, his right hand lightly stroking his long goatee. He had a relaxed smile on his face the entire time.

Szuzad takes a step back, quickly changing her stance. After a moment, she speaks.

“Zeek the Untouchable, why are you interfering?” She says in a monotone voice, one lacking the hostility of a moment before.

Whispers around the now forming crowd rise up as they all begin repeating the word Untouchable. Zeek is the only named being to have been born in the north for well over a millenia. He is notorious for picking fights with other named beings and causing huge environmental damage in the process.

In other words, he’s a celebrity.

Zeek chuckles and points to Artyom. “Artyom here is my disciple. It is my duty as a mentor to teach and assist him.”

“Then you are a lousy mentor if you choose not to inform your mentee that forceful acquisition of class information is completely illegal in the north, especially here at Jotunheim.”

Zeek shrugs. “I was going to explain it later. It just never came up.”

Artyom steps forward and quickly bows.

“Miss Szuzad, I sincerely apologize for my lack of tact and any insult that I have caused by my actions. I apologize for my lack of understanding and if I must, I will accept whatever appropriate punishment you deem necessary.”

Szuzad stops and actually looks confused at the man. She was not expecting such a reaction. A smile slowly forms on her lips.

“Hmmm,” she hums, looking over the man once more. She first thought he was a cocky [Warrior] or a possible [Spy]. But now, the way he speaks and moves, reminds her of something.

“You were a [Soldier].”

Artyom perks up, surprised.

“It’s clear by your movements and how you speak. A [Soldier] respects order and rules, and I sense truth in your words.”

She takes a moment to glare at Zeek who can only give her a cheeky smile.

“Unlike Zeek here.”

Her head swivels back to Artyom who manages to suppress a flinch.

“As the right hand of Jotund, the insult to me would be punishable by death. But, I will instead change your punishment to banishment. You will not be allowed to set foot in Jotunheim. Is that acceptable?”

Artyom nods. “Absolu-”

“You can't, Artyom! You were invited to the tournament!” Alissa yells out to the detriment of Artyom, whose slowly growing smile falters. He had just been given a reason to ignore the tournament and live his life. But now…

Szuzad stops, glaring now at Artyom. Then at Zeek. Then at Artyom again. Her opinion of the man has changed once more, and not for the better. It is not the first time that fighters have wanted to not fight in the Arena, many giving excuses from a poor class to no longer having equipment. It’s not the best attempt to avoid fighting she’s seen, but it’s definitely been one of the better.

Very few were exempt, and now another had just attempted to weasel out.

“Your punishment has changed. You will join the tournament and you will be the first to fight. If you refuse, then I will hunt you down and drown you in the frozen waters.”

She turns and begins walking towards the city. “I have wasted much time on this charade. We move to the tower.”

Artyom releases an annoyed groan towards Alissa who quickly blushes as she realizes what opening her mouth has caused. Even Zeek and Shiro can't help but laugh at Artyom’s rather unfortunate plight.

__________________________________________________________

 

“So, Zeek. Zeek the Untouchable. How did you get him as your mentor? He takes nobody… ever!” Shiro exclaims with his arms around Artyom's shoulders, which looks rather comical considering Artyom is over a foot shorter and much less thicker than Shiro.

Artyom frowns, unsure what to say. He was hoping that Zeeks' presence would be kept secret. But now, everyone is interested in getting a conversation with the mentor and the mentee. Luckily, or thankfully, Shiro’s team is keeping the people at bay and only allowing them to look.

“Well… I did save his granddaughter here.”

Shiro looks at Alissa who is still moping about her vocal mistake. Artyom did not want to go through this tournament, and was actually offered a way out. But she had to speak up.

“That's it? Just saving her life? I don't believe that for a second, but I understand when a man wants to keep his secrets. So, I won't try to badger the information out of you. Just know, if you want to talk, I’m here and willing.”

Artyom shakes his head, clearly seeing the curiosity on the man's face. But, he refuses to speak of his [Hero] class. A class which, if Zeek is right, is at the level where he can choose an additional class to level.

“Actually, can you inform me on the rules here, preferably ones that I should avoid so that I don't get killed? Information about the history of Jotunheim would also be good.”

Shiro nods and gives him a smile.

“Absolutely. As you have noticed, using skills or items to obtain information in Jotunheim and in the north is illegal. Doing so can get you thrown in jail, or killed depending on the person. Slavery is also illegal as is the following of most gods. Other than those two, the usual laws apply to no stealing or killing. Fighting is allowed but the winner has to pay for any property damage afterwards.”

Artyom perks up, surprised, “Fighting is ok? Really?”

“Of course. The city and buildings are made of ice that never melts and will fix itself if damaged.”

Artyom nods, taking note to stay away from locations that sell alcohol.

“What about history?”

Shiro scratches the side of his head, “Well, there is a lot. How much do you know of the north?”

“Nothing.”

Shiro blinks on in surprise.

“Ok. Well, I guess I will start with the city.”

Shiro removes his arms from Artyom's shoulders and begins to point at the nearing city wall and gate.

“Jotunheim was built a very long time ago by the Dwarfs, the Elves, and the Giants.”

“Giants?” Artyom quickly asks.

“That would be me… well, partially. Humans with the true [Strength bloodline] and not the [Minor Strength Bloodline] have been known to become rather huge in size. They were called giants because even the shortest of them were around ten feet in height. There are even stories of some very high leveled people reaching twenty feet.”

“None exist anymore?”

Shiro nods.

“Yes. Breeding with those that lacked the bloodline over many generations had diluted it and lowered it to the minor version.”

“I see.”

Shiro grunts. “Anyways. The city was built with the combined might of the three species. Dwarfs organized the building structure. The Giants built the city, and,” he points at the pulsating mana, ”the Elves enchanted it.”

Artyom stares once more at the structure, finding it rather formidable and well made. Alissa had told him that the Dwarfs were unrivaled [Blacksmiths] and the Elves were the best [Enchanters].

“So, Szuzad is an elf?”

Shiro shakes his head and crosses his arms, “Not exactly. Szuzad is a Half-elf, one of the few still alive in the world. One thing most people don't know is that Elves can actually create a crossbreed with a human. It is rare, and supposedly requires permission from the Elven elders. I am not too knowledgeable on the reasoning though.”

Artyom opens his mouth to ask another question, but stops as he realizes that they have just arrived at the entrance to Jotunheim. Only one group is in front of them, and all of the members are publicly naked and waiting as two heavily armored [Guardsmen] stroll around the people and check them for illegal marks.

“Well, It's time,” Shiro says as he begins undressing.