Tales of the Parodyverse

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DONAR, As promised
Thu Apr 27, 2006 at 02:25:35 am EDT
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"When Donar Met Annj Part II"
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It was not long before Donar, Annj and Grimbald could spy the skeletal towers of Miserablegitheim on the horizon. If HR Giger had designed New York and then set it on fire, you would have a rough idea of the landscape and the architecture that awaited them. Their final destination was the tallest tower, the creatively titled Skulheim. Twixt its maze of corridors and pits there was a large hall wherein Lord Slithis awaited his lackey Grimbald and his prize Princess Annj. He had plans for that girl, none of them were nice, but they were his plans after all and truth be told he really wasn’t so interested in nice things anyway.

There was only one way into Miserablegitheim, its borders being defined by the moat of lava that encircled the island nation. That way was via a bridge that had been made from the bones of fallen enemies that creaked and swayed as Donar, Annj and Grimbald crossed it. A vulture took flight from the bridge towards Skulheim when the trio came into view, no doubt to warn Lord Slithis of his unexpected and most unwelcome guest.

“The Oldmanson is here?” Slithis hissed at the unfortunate messenger carrion. “Here? In my lands”
“Actuallyeth” Donar corrected him. “I art in thy throne room with thee.”
“My Great Dread Lord” Grimbald grovelled. “I bring to you Princess Annj as you asked.” the serfish escort continued, bowing at his master’s feet.
“Did I ask thee to bring the scion of Ausgard with thee as well, fool?”
“Uh..no, my truly terrifying Lord, you did not, but..”
“But nothing, vassal!” Slithis barked as his foot cracked across Grimbald’s face and left him sprawled on his back, passed out for the second or third time this day. “You are not welcome here, Godling. You should have known that to show thy face here would most undoubtedly be followed by your death at my hands.”

“Lord Slithis” Annj interjected, having seen enough gore on the trip through town for one lifetime and wishing to spare her well wishing escort his early demise. “I am Princess Annj of Wjodonheim. I am to be thy bride to seal the pact of peace you yourself offered. Would you break that peace and slay my only able escort as well?”
“Escort?” Slithis queried. “The Oldmanson art your escort?”
“Tis true, Lord Slithis” Donar confirmed diplomatically. “When I didst spy milady Annj in grave peril and under no protection from thy lackey, I didst pledge mine sacred oath that no harm would befall her on her trip to thy realm.”

“Well.” Slithis muttered, his shoulders dropping “You had best be off then, as it appears that my future Queen has spared thee my wrath.”
“Tis also true, Slithis” Donar confirmed not so diplomatically “that thou art not spared mine wrath.” He then removed Mjalcolm from his belt “My oath was to escort her here safely, which I have done. My oath is now to return her home again and to end the threat that thy existence presents.”

“I was hoping thou wouldst say that.” Slithis raised his hands, which were alive with crackling dark energy. “To the death then, Oldmanson?” With a battle roar Donar leapt amid the lighting that cracked from his weapon into the elemental cloud of dark energy the sorcerer had summoned. Then, just as they were about to clash, it happened…

“Enough!” Annj ordered, stopping both the God and the Necromancer in their tracks. “I don’t know where you two grew up but where I came from the only way to settle a dispute involving an oath was a quest! It’s the law.”
Slithis and Donar gritted their teeth and stared each other in the eyes. They both knew she was right, but they had both wanted the gratification of a quick clean kill.
“So be it.” Slithis resigned. “Oldmanson, Princess Annj’s Father’s oath of her hand shall be tried against thy oath to return her home by three trials.”
“Verily.” Donar agreed. “Sounds suitably Norse. Name thy trials.”
“Your first trial shall be to retrieve the Armor of Verleitung from the Tomb of Corpus Rex. Your second will be to retrieve sap from the World Tree Yggcalyptus. Your third and final task will be to slay the demon named Sanguine and bring to me his remains. If you can complete these tasks Queen Annj will be thine to escort home, and there will be no future warring with her borders. You will also complete these tasks without the usage of thy weapon Mjalcolm. Dost thou accept?”
“Aye, I doeth. But I will also have my own conditions. I shall have the assistance of three of mine closest allies. I will heed their advice during thy quests but shall complete them myself.”
“No!” Slithis roared “You shall do thy tasks alone and without aid!”
“But, Lord Slithis?” Annj enquired. “Surely he will be slain in the first task without using his weapon to channel the storm. Or perhaps you fear he will complete these tasks and shame you?” She then winked at Donar, giving him all the encouragement he needed.
“Three advisors, Slithis, or I simply slay thee now. What wilt thou choose.”
“You can have your advisors, Oldmanson. They will be your doom. Now, go fetch me the armor like a good djog.”

And so Donar did depart for the Tomb of Corpus Rex to obtain the Armor of Verleitung. He left Mjalcolm with Annj and asked it to defend her in his absence. Of course, he was still able to call Hugo and Mazza, his father’s all-seeing mjagpies to him and they were able to pass on a discreet message to Ausgard’s Visioneer.

He walked for two days until he came upon the graveyard he was looking for.
The place was eerie, even as graveyards go as the dead never really rested in the realms of Ausgard. In Valhalen they partied all night and fought all day. In Hjel the dearly departed old, frail and unwell moaned and complained like a dystopian retirement community. But even so there were graveyards where immortals and gods were entombed because they had nowhere else to go, or had chosen oblivion over eternity. In the case of the tomb that Donar stood before, the tomb-owner was a vile Necromancer not unlike Slithis, but more powerful as he had joined the dead to learn and speak their tongue. It was then that Donar spoke one of the three words that the mjagpie Mazza had delivered from the Visioneer. One of the three words that would summon an apparition of his friends to assist him with sage advice.

“Klaa-tooh.”

A spectral Enty appeared before Donar. “Hey. Cool. This an Ausgardian hologram or something?”
“Heil, my friend Enty!” Donar boomed. “I have not seen thee for what seems an age!”
“You’re not wrong there, big fella” Enty replied. “So what’s the deal, you coming back down to Earth to give us a hand smiting evil soon?”
“Aye, if only. Ausgard is a demanding mistress and with Oldman preparing to go wjalkabout she will be mine to rule soon. I have need of thy helpeth though. I art on a quest to save a Goddess from the clutches of evil and stand before the entrance of my first task.”
“Hey, whatever I can do, man. Ask away.”
“I seek the Armor named ‘Verleitung’ and feel it within the tomb you see before me. Canst thou offer any advice?”
“Hmmmm…lemme see. Nothing on Google but German WebPages. Maybe if I Babelfish it I can…ok, it’s Germanic for ‘Temptation.” That help?”
“Not reallyeth. Perhaps we should just ventureth forth and see for ourselves?”
“No sweat..but how’s this work anyway. This holographic deal?”
“Aaah. From what I am told this communication we are experiencing is with thy sub-conscious self, filtered by thy conscious self, whate’er that means. In this way you shalt be able to guide and advise me as thou normally wouldst, but once the link art severed it shall be as if thou woketh from a dream and shall slip from thy mind like sand through thy fingers.”
“Oh, I totally understand that bit. But how can I help fight? I’m basically just a psychological construct receiving visual stimuli via a psych-link from your brain.
I can only see what you see and I sure as hell can’t help physically.”
“The fighting and retrieving shalt be mine to do alone. I will ask thy advice if needed. Should I perish…I would ask that you get word to Ausgard of Annj. I feel strongly for her despite only meeting a few days ago. There is something…fated with us. I know it.”
“You got it buddy. We should probably get going before I wake up, huh?”
“Agreed” Donar agreed agreeable smashing down the stone door of the tomb with his raw fists.

As far as tombs go, it was the usual. Torches inexplicably burning in the hallways. Large square stone pressure plates in the floor betraying the presence of traps. Chests securely locked and hidden yet mysteriously filled with worthless items. The only unexpected thing within the tomb was the Ausgardian God and his ethereal co-pilot.

Donar bashed his way through the assorted zombies, skeletons and ghouls that offered any kind of resistance but found that a couple of ghosts proved quite bash-resistant. On the other hand, Donar was proving somewhat fear resistant as well. After several minutes of him punching the air pointlessly and them moaning not so terrifyingly the ghosts and Donar agreed to live and let unlive and went their separate ways. Fortunately, Enty had the presence of mind to ask them directions to the Armor of Verleitung and was told to take the third right, follow that hallway to the end and turn left and you can’t miss it.

One right, one left and a large creaky wooden door later, Donar and Enty were in a square room with a stone altar in its centre. On the altar lay a fully assembled suit of armor, presumably of the Verleitung variety.

“Wait. That can’t be right.” Enty queried. “My own armor found a reference to an Armor of Entrapment on the web, supposedly made from a metal even stronger than Adamantinum.”
“Stronger than Adamantinum?”
“Yup. It’s pure Duranduranium.”
“It’s truly magnificent.” Donar was barely able to say as he drew closer to the armor, stepping on one of the aforementioned stone triggers in the process and causing a stone wall to fall, blocking their retreat.
“Donar, be careful..it’s called Temptation for a reason, and it can’t be a good one.”
“Those runes.” Donar muttered “..and symbols. They glow so brightly e’en in the lack of light.”
“Wait…it’s apparently cursed with unholy runes to imprison..”
“Coorpussss….Reeeexxx….” the armor completed with a scraping metallic voice.
“Oh crap. Donar it’s a trap, get out!”
Donar stood still, hypnotized by the beauty of the armor that was now rising to its feet and advancing towards him. “So…beautiful…”
“Donar!” Enty paused, trying to think of something that could snap Donar out of this trance. “Donar…..remember Annj!!”
Despite the statistical improbabilities, something inside Donar’s mind clicked. His eyes regained focus just in time for him to see the glowing red eyes of the Verleitung Helm. The gaps of the armor dripped arcane energies as it continued its advance.
“I sssshall sswallow your sssssoul, Godlinggggggggg….” The Armor spake.
“Nay. Begin with mine fist.” Donar offered as he ploughed a freight train punch into the Helm. The armor reeled backwards, hit a wall and dropped lifeless to the floor.
“Huh. That wert easy.” Donar observed.
The armor then rose and approached again. So Donar punched it down again.
This continued for what seemed an eternity until Enty spoke. “Donar, it’s Duranduranium, You’re not going to damage it with brute force.”
“Aye. And my fists art feeling a little raw.” Donar agreed, knocking the armor airborne yet again. “But I haveth a theory.” Before the armor could reanimate Donar brought his eye to the helm to see if his theory was correct. The empty eye socket of a long deceased necromancer confirmed that it was.
“Enough…” the King of the Dead declared from within the armor. “You ssssssshall feeeeeeeed me Oldmanssson… minionssssss….to mee!”
The ground shook violently and a horrible noise filled the air. There was also the putrid stench of decaying flesh, but alas, no minions.
“If thy minions art the skeletons, zombies andst ghouls I encountered on the way here, I art afraid I hath already smashed them into tiny pieces..oh, and thy spectres, ghosts and wraiths hath retired. As for thee”
“I cannot be hhhhhharmed… Verleitung will protect mee from thy blows for eternity…you are a sssssoft pink flessssshy thingggggg…..tassssssty sssoul…”
“D, you thinking what I’m thinking?”
“That his words doth creep me outeth?”
“No. That when I used to have a big fight wearing armor, it would be fine. I on the other hand..”
“…would be bruised.” Donar realised with a grin.
“What? Wait.” Corpus Rex “Wait! We can come to some sssssort of deal…”
“No deals. A lady doth awaiteth.”
Donar then proceeded to grab the armor by the feet and bash it into the walls, stone pillars, floor and ceiling until Rex’s skeletal remains no longer rattled inside his impenetrable shell and were instead strewn around the room.
“You can’t do thisssss!!” Rex’s skull objected from a shadow in the corner.
“Yet I did. Thanketh ye, Enty. Thou wert sage and much help in the destruction of things.”
“Hey, no problem big guy. Anytime.”
“Awaken from thy dream, Enty.” Donar spoke, releasing his friend from the mental link between them. Enty’s visage dissipated into the dark as Donar trudged out of the tomb with a recently vacated suit of armor over his shoulder.”


“Now…who can aid me with sap?”




Coming Next: When Donar Met Annj part III: A Sap In Need.



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