"I have a suggestion for the next design."
"A heater?"
"A heater."
Rikbore could practically hear Znapp's teeth chattering from inside the golem. The lands of the Norn tended to be cold even in summer. With winter in full roar they were nothing less than the icebox of the gods. While Rikbore's fur could help to cut down the worst of the chill a bit, the mostly hairless things that were Asurans were completely at the mercy of the weather. Being inside the belly of the beast they didn't have to deal with the wind coming off the field of ice before them, but that was, quite literally, cold comfort.
"Perhaps," Znapp's voice mused, "a certain felinoid creature could drop back down and close the hatch?"
Rikbore grunted, but remained firmly in place, his head and chest sticking up above the golem's upper body. Once the battle started he'd have a very limited view of the battlefield. He wanted to be certain he'd memorized it as much as was possible in the time permitting.
The golem was hidden away behind a low hill. From his vantage point he could see (barely) over the crest of the hill to the ice field beyond, but no one out in that field would be able to spy the golem in return. On the other side of the hill a force of roughly one hundred Norn fighters were gathered, dressed in improbably low amounts of clothing and acting slightly bored. Ostensibly these were there to protect the three figures standing at the crest of the hill, discussing the field below them.
Tucked away in a side valley an additional thousand fighters lurked, waiting for the battle to come. While most of them were additional Norn warriors, mixed among them were far more heavily dressed soldiers from the Pact. Hidden away, they were supposed to be the steel jaws that would clamp down on any minions Jormag would be launching into the "ambush" the dragon thought it was about to spring on Trahearne, Knut Whitebear, and Eir Stegalkin. By engaging the dragon's followers they would keep these dignitaries safe, and also keep the golem from being overwhelmed while it engaged Jormag.
The battlefield itself was a frozen wasteland sloping gently downward away from the hill to eventually end in the Gentle River. By summer it was a grassland full of flowers and bees, the perfect place for the small settlement of Kyesjard to produce honey for the mead the Norn loved so much. Winter buried it beneath deep piles of snow, the wind scouring anything crossing it with airborne crystals of ice. Layers of ice crusted over the top of the snow, the result of sunlight melting just enough snow to refreeze into thins strips that could tear at the legs of those not careful as they attempted to travel across it.
The Norn, warm bodied giants that they were, absolutely loved it. Everyone else thought it a manifestation of hell.
"Seriously, Rikbore." Znapp's teeth were chattering even worse than they had been just a moment ago. "Please descend into the golem and seal it up. Your body heat is escaping upward, and I am beginning to lose all feeling in my ears."
Sighing, Rikbore dropped down inside and closed the hatch. The seat settled with a creak of complaint as his substantial weight came down on it. The interior was large enough for him, but it wasn't exactly designed for comfort. He was wedged in between the housing for the massive alchemic energy cannon that was the entire point of this exercise and the gollem's outer skin. Controls in front of him would allow him to rotate the golem's torso and adjust the gun's aim. A foot pedal was all that was needed to fire.
Below and in front of him sat Xandra, firmly ensconced in the lower body of the beast. Her position was far more roomy than his, chiefly owing to the fact it had been designed so even a Norn could operate the golem. Try as he might he couldn't see one bit of her, the seat she was in being so much larger than she. Controls similar to the ones he would be using allowed her to drive the golem. Steering would essentially be accomplished by controlling the speed of each set of wheels. To turn left, Xandra would simply reduce the speed of the wheels to the left as they rolled over the self deploying road encircling them. With the right side attempting to go forward faster than the left, the whole machine would slew itself to the side like a drunken polar bear on a spray of mud and snow.
Znapp was far less fortunate than Xandra. His station had originally been designed similarly to hers, with a seat large enough for any engineer imaginable. Controls would have allowed Znapp to shunt alchemic energy about as needed, prioritizing speed or firepower depending on the situation. Rodhlann's sabotage had made a complete hash of that. In order to prevent a total discharge of all of the stored alchemic energy from occurring the first time the cannon was fired, Znapp had hastily torn the seat out and forcibly cut away the metal bulkheads that would originally have been between him and the alchemical storage bottles. He would be controlling the flow of alchemic energy quite literally by hand, installing and removing the bottles as the battle progressed.
Rikbore's thoughts on the giant golem's design was interrupted as he heard shouting outside. Ignoring Znapp's protest, he popped the hatch back open and stuck his head out.
Across the frozen river he could see figures pouring out of a narrow valley. Many of them could quickly be identified as Norn, dressed in the iconic armor of the Sons of Svanir. A fanatic cult, these men had devoted themselves to the worship of Jormag rather than fight him, with promises of power and their choice of whatever Norn women survived his destruction. The rest of the figures were icebrood, beast like creatures formed from living ice crystals.
Rikbore grunted. "This isn't good."
He heard Xandra stir below. "What is it?"
"There are more of them than we expected. A lot more of them."
"How many would happen to count as a lot?"
He made a fast estimate, then dropped back inside, the hatch clanging shut behind him. "At least three thousand."
"Our allies are outnumbered three to one then," Znapp assessed. "Should we deploy?"
"No," Rikbore grumbled. "We're not supposed to reveal ourselves until Jormag shows himself. If we pop out too early he may choose not to join in."
"With a ratio of three to one he may not need to," Xandra pointed out.
"I know," Rikbore muttered. "We'll just have to trust to luck, then." He lurched back upwards and began watching the battle unfold.
As Jormag's followers began pouring across the river, a motion caught Rikbore's eye. He turned and watched with a dreadful fascination as the Pact warriors abandoned the plan and began rushing out of their hidden valley. Rather than slamming into the side of Jormag's forces they would, instead, be meeting them head on.
"So much for luck," he sighed.
The two forces smashed into one another with a sound like thunder. Bodies flew in the air, steel rang on steel, and he could hear the sharp cracking sounds of rifles and pistols splitting the air. The Pact forces seemed to come off better in the initial collision, the downhill charge lending them a strength that temporarily offset their inferior numbers. The forces of Jormag were pushed back, their own charge stalled at the frozen river as men and beasts at the rear of the charge collided with those at the front.
The initial advantage shifted quickly, however. Once battle had been well and truly engaged the Pact no longer had a downhill run to empower them. The fight quickly devolved into a chaos laden melee. In such a scrum tactics and strategy became impossible, leaving it a game of numbers. Numbers were something the Pact simply did not have. It was not long until the Sons of Svanir were surging forward, forcing the Pact soldiers aside as they pushed towards the small bodyguard standing on the hill and surrounding their three leaders.
Rikbore snarled as he watched a gap open in the Pact line. Simply overwhelmed, a thin spot had succumbed to pressure and given way. Icebrood the size of clydesdales poured through the opening, rushing towards the hill and Jormag's prize.
He dropped back into the golem and slammed the hatch shut. "Take us out, Xandra."
Znapp swore behind him. "What about the plan?"
"The plan just went tits up," he replied. "Show us what this thing can do, Xandra."
Xandra replied with a sound that sound a bit too intimate for the circumstances, and the machine lurched forward. Rikbore rocked back in his seat as he felt the wooden planks grip the snow and ice beneath the wheels. Various bits and pieces of the golem groaned at the sudden acceleration, but everything held together, and Xandra gave a war whoop from her seat.
"Where are we going?" she shouted.
"Bring us to the edge of the hill, then swing us around it. Put us between the Svanir and Trahearne."
Xandra grunted in agreement, and Rikbore felt the golem begin a skid turn he was sure was throwing snow and mud everywhere. He glanced out through the small viewport cut into the golem's upper body. Objects on the surface of the snow were flying by at a prodigious rate, blurring past before he could make out details.
"Znapp," he called. "Let's be a bit cautious with our first shot. I want a minimal charge applied to the cannon."
Xandra threw the golem into a sharp turn as the golem cleared the end of the hill. Rikbore grunted as his shoulder slammed into the bulkhead beside him, then righted himself and glared through the viewport. Gripping the controls, he began rotating the upper torso, watching until he caught the sight of icy beasts crossing in front of him.
Without a thought, his foot stomped down on the switch in the floor. An unimaginable roar filled his right ear and an electric blue light lit up the world beyond the viewport. To his surprise he felt the golem stagger in its tracks, temporarily slowed by the power pouring out of the cannon's maw.
"By the Eternal Alchemy," Xandra swore. "Please do me the courtesy of warning me next time so I can close my eyes!"
Rikbore sympathized. He struggled to blink away the afterimages of the beam that had shot outward so that he could assess the results of his first shot. After a moment things began to come into focus.
"Fuck me…" he muttered. Beyond the viewport he could see a trench cut into the snow. At its bottom mud steamed and bubbled. Several chunks of icebrood were scattered along the edges of the trench, while several additional monsters staggered and circled, injuries spraying drops of water in the place of blood. "That was a minimal charge?"
"As minimal as I can get," Znapp shouted. "It drained a full bottle, but until I can properly fix the design, that is all I can do to control the power feed."
Rikbore nodded, though he was certain the Asuran wouldn't be able to see the gesture. He looked around the compartment around him, checking for any signs of damage. Nothing seemed to be out of order. "How's everything look for you?"
"I am not finding any problems here," Xandra shouted. "We are fully mobile!"
"There are no problems here," Znapp huffed. "It will take me a moment to swap out the bottle, but we currently have two dozen available for immediate use."
"Perfect." Rikbore grinned, and put his eyes back to the viewport. "Ready to try that again?"
"Absolutely!"
Xandra throttled up, and the golem roared forward. "Hold on!" She shouted.
Rikbore felt the thump of a powerful collision throw him forward. His muzzle smacked into the armor plating beneath the viewport and he immediately tasted blood. "What was that?"
"Icebrood! It jumped in front of us!"
Swearing, Rikbore swallowed a mouthful of copper and snot. He swung the upper body again, staring at the viewport and watching for a new set of targets to line up on. Seeing several icebrood fill the port, he shoved the controls forward, lowering the barrel.
"Firing!" he bellowed. He hesitated only long enough for an eyeblink, then smashed the trigger in the floor downward.
Eyes closed, he felt the golem rock again as the roar of the cannon smashed into his ear. The moment the movement settled and the sound subsided he opened his eyes and looked out again.
Another trench, another scene of devastation.
"This may not be the most efficient way to do this," he mused. "Perhaps a smaller gun for small targets might be a good addition."
"Where would the fun in that be?" Xandra called. "I like them big."
"I heard that," Znapp quipped. Rikbore heard the clink of aetheric bottles as he chuckled at the banter.
"I think those two shots blunted the tip of their breakthrough," he called. "Xandra, bring us around. I want to go right down their throats."
"We run the risk of having them attack us from every side if we do that," she called.
"Not for long. All we have to do is get down to the main battle and we'll have plenty of allies to keep our back clear."
"Right." The golem whipped about, this time slapping Rikbore up against the housing for the cannon. With a grunt he pushed himself back onto an even keel, then thrust himself upward, popping his head through the hatch to look behind the golem.
The beast was throwing up a colossal roostertail of ice and rocks. The detritus from their movement was insufficient to fill the peculiar tracks the golem was leaving in its wake, allowing to track their movement back to the point they had come around the hill. Beneath one set of tracks an icebrood had been crushed in a gruesome fashion.
Careful to avoid the spray falling behind the golem, the bodyguard were rushing forward. They were unable to keep up with the pace of the machine, but this was unimportant. They were soon engaged with icebrood that had not been stopped by Rikbore's shots. Reduced in number, their charge slowed by the rampaging mechanical beast in their midst, the icebrood attack slowed, then began to falter completely.
Rikbore dropped back down into his seat. The movement may well have saved his life. The entire golem rocked, one side smashing downwards even as the other side flew up in the air. The entire body rang like the world's largest and most discordant bell, accompanied by smaller clangs as chunks of something fell onto the golem. Just as he began to believe the golem was going to roll over onto its side, the motion stopped and he felt the roll reverse, slamming the golem back down onto the level.
A muffled cry cut through the din from behind him.
"Znapp?" he shouted.
"I am fine," Znapp replied, though pain could be heard in the Asuran's voice. "I fell against some of the active bottles. I am bruised, but fully functional."
"Xandra?"
"The seat protected me."
Rikbore sighed with relief, but didn't linger on the feeling. "What was that?"
"Someone dropped a giant spike of ice on us. It did not hit square on."
"Damage?"
He could hear both of his companions scramble, checking everything within view as quickly as possible.
"None here."
"I think we are fine."
"Good. Xandra, try getting us moving again. It's possible that blow broke something in the propulsion system, but we won't know until we try moving."
"Right."
The golem wobbled and groaned. For a moment he thought that the beast had been rendered immobile, but then it gave a sick lurch and began moving forward again.
"The right side feels a bit strange," Xandra called, "but we are moving!"
"Alright," Rikbore grunted. "Let's not do that again."
"I concur," Znapp groused.
Rikbore smashed his face back to the viewport, seeking out targets for the gun. Swearing, he noted that everything near to hand was an unfortunate mix of friend and foe. Any shot he took would inevitably result in friendly casualties. Xandra seemed to be facing a similar difficulty, as he felt the golem began to slow in order to avoid running down any Pact soldiers.
"Left!" He shouted. "There's a path to the left you can run down!"
Xandra immediately flung the golem into motion, spinning it around and accelerating hard. Rikbore winced as several Sons of Svanir wound up under the wooden trackways, causing the golem to bounce and rock as though going over a field of small boulders.
He didn't dwell on it long, however. The motion carried the golem past the main area of fighting and into a body of Jormag's minions free of any Pact soldiers. Without even taking the time to aim, he bellowed a warning and then triggered the cannon.
Assessing the damage of the shot, he felt momentarily sick. Creatures made of ice crystals one thing. The effect of the cannon on flesh and blood was another thing altogether. The path the bolt had taken was strewn with body parts, some bleeding, and others too badly burnt for such unpleasantness.
He sensed more than saw the shudder that ran through the Sons of Svanir. While the battle raged on, those closest to the golem seemed intent on ensuring they quickly found other parts of the fight to involve themselves in, scattering away from the beast. Shoving aside the horror he'd just looked out on, Rikbore sped them on their way with several additional shots. Xandra gave them additional encouragement, chasing after them at a pace they simply couldn't match.
"You know," Rikbore mused, swinging the gun around to line up for another shot. "We may just have a chance of winning this."
Any comment his companions might have made in response were lost in that moment. A sound like the tearing of a sheet of paper the size of a castle. A shadow passed overhead, and he felt the golem rock in a sudden blast of wind.
Thrusting himself upward, Rikbore slammed the hatch open and searched the sky. It didn't take him long to spot the source of the disturbance. A thing that large was very hard to miss. Rikbore gave a long sigh as his fists clenched on the controls.
"Jormag."