You know I keep on wondering why there no good crossover sorties Warhammer fantasy and Percy Jackson crossover or even age of Sigmar so I decided to try it out. Just for awhile until I get into the mood for my other stories.
A young woman was browsing a few books in a small town library in Georgia. She had beautiful brown eyes, black hair, light, flawless skin, and a glow on her body. Wearing a plain brown jacket, a white shirt, blue jeans, and light brown boots. She had the ideal proportions, as though a god had made her.
This was Hestia, the Goddess of Home and Hearth, popularly referred to as Helen by mortals. She was currently perusing a few books, particularly the ones that the library she was at had recently added. The library was quite old—very, very old—but it still contained many interesting finds, and she was eager to read something.
Unlike her niece, she read to satisfy her curiosity rather than for knowledge. Sadly Her family had its issues, as most families do, but at times, she needed to get away from them all. Spotting one book of interest, she started to reach for it when her hand bumped into a stranger's hand.
"Oh, I'm sorry," apologized Hestia as she turned to the person; however, when she did, her gaze seemed to lock onto who it was.
A middle-aged man, possibly in his forties, stood in front of her. He has a charming face. The man's blond hair shined like silver in the stars, was kept back from his face by a knotted leather headband, and his arms were thick. He had fair skin with no blemishes or lines. The man's eyes, unlike humans', were otherworldly. One was blue, while the other was a rich green.
Does this man have heterochromia? If he does, it will only add to his handsomeness.
His attire was very unique: a brown coat with gold trimming and three coattails. The trimming also had what appeared to be a griffin or a twin-tailed comet embroidered into the collar. Along with his navy blue pants tucked into brown leather boots, he wore a black waistcoat. He is also well-built—as well-built as his shirt.
"No, it's quite alright," replied the man in a smooth but somewhat polite tone. "I was merely browsing."
"I don't believe I've seen you around here before," inquired Hestia.
"I recently arrived here," replied the mystery man.
"Is there anything specific you're looking for?" asked the goddess, brushing some hair behind her ear. "I could help you with anything you need."
"No, that is fine," he declined, shaking his head. "I do not wish to burden you."
"I insist," pressed Hestia, unsure why she was doing this, but it felt right. She had never been interested in starting a relationship because she had sworn her virginity would be eternal. But she felt like she was going to melt from the way the man spoke and his tone. And Hestia blushed profusely at his mere physical presence.
After a short moment, the man gave a smile as he looked into her brown eyes and said, "Very well."
"Thank you," she said, thanking the goddess with a nod.
"May I have your name?"
She looked at him and smiled. "My name is Helen."
"A beautiful name. For a beautiful woman. Nonetheless, it is also a tragic name."
"Why do you say that?"
"The last time a beautiful woman bore that name, the Achaeans and Trojans went to war for more than a decade. Fortunately for me, I did not encounter three goddesses fighting over a golden apple. But if I had to choose from all of the goddesses, I'd give it to the goddess of Hearth herself. If you believe such toll tales."
The goddess, in disguise, tried not to flinch at the mention of the Trojan War. It wasn't one of the best decisions that her family made.
So it caught her off guard when he said that, if given the chance, he'd give her the golden apple. This made her blush even more. "Well, if that goddess was real, she would be happy. And she would like to know the name of the mortal."
This made the man show his perfect white teeth. "Heldan. Heldan Hammer." was his reply.
Hestia soon found herself returning to the library more frequently to speak with the man. Days became weeks, weeks became months, and months became a full year. Soon, the goddess of the hearth and domestic life found herself growing closer to Heldan. They immediately began dating and went out to dine at various places; she had already visited his home several times to exchange stories and hang out.
On work days, though, Hestia would occasionally help out at the officer's station when she came over during working hours. Developing a reputation as a kind of mother figure to orphans and a source of solace to widows who lost their husbands in the line of duty.
Surprisingly, Helden is the CEO of "Unberogen Defense Services," a private military firm based in Germany. Nonetheless, they operate in over 100 countries and are gradually expanding into the United States and Central America. From what she gathered, Unberogen Defense Services came into being in the 1980s.
Unlike other mortal CEOs who remained in office, Helden won his men's respect and unshakable admiration by either leading them in war or venturing into hazardous territory. Most importantly, never losing a single battle, regardless of the odds. The most astonishing aspect of all was how to persuade the most obstinate rivals to reach an agreement. However, those who intended to harm the innocent for personal gain or were corrupt were quickly eliminated with cold, brutal efficiency and without pity, to an alarming degree. But once it was finished, Helden would appoint a new beneficent leader while making sure the nation is self-sufficient.
Unfortunately first world governments would occasionally try to either influence or worse topple these new governments with more "compliant" dictators. In end though all these plots were foiled thanks to the professionalism of the soldiers Halden had personally trained. While at the same time showing the world the one's who're truly responsible causing more than scandal.
The things Helden did made him the most intriguing mortal she'd met.
A warrior, wrestler, archeologist, Patron of the arts, Astronomer, philosopher, educator, mentor, civil rights advocate, politician, and leader.
All wrapped in mortal.
If he had lived thousands of years ago, Heldan would have been a formidable warrior with a mind for science and the arts. Hestia imagines that if he had lived so long ago, mortals would still be talking about him today.
On the weekends, Heldan would travel the entire world. A lot, in fact. Half of those trips took the disguised goddess to Europe, Asia, or Oceania, as well as more stable areas of the Middle East and Africa. Something that was surprising to see in a mortal these days.
Hestia, on the other hand, admitted that she was surprised to see he had serious scars from a bladed weapon; she assumed they were from an actual sharp blade. But, as he explained, it was an old wound from an accident that claimed his first love's life and nearly killed his own.
"Heldan," said Hestia, somewhat hesitantly.
"Yes, Helen," asked Heldan as he looked up from the food that they were eating together.
"There's something I have to tell you." She continued, taking a deep breath before she said what she needed to say: "I can't have sex with you."
That seems to hit him harder than a cyclops war club. Heldan was drinking at the time she dropped that bombshell, causing him to spit out the contents of his mouth and cough heavily.
"Where did this come from?" He said it between coughs.
"I thought I should tell you that if we are to continue in our relationship, I can't have sex with you at any point."
"As shocking as this revelation sounds, why are you telling me this?" Fredrick asked, a little baffled.
Hestia was quiet for a little bit before she faintly spoke. "Because I am not what you think I am."
Heldan instantly became alert. His entire posture changed from calm and serene to weary and ready for combat, giving Hestia a look that could kill.
"Who or what are you, then?"
"My real name is Hestia, goddess of hearth, home, and family." The goddess said she looked like she was a puppy that was about to be kicked.
Heldan was familiar with the Greek pantheon's gods, as Hestia had seen him read books on ancient Greece and Roman history, including Greek mythology. He would frequently assert that the majority of Greek gods were petty and spiteful beings in every sense of the word. No better than their predecessors.
The Titans.
The only two exceptions are Hade's, who takes care of the dead, and Hestia, the goddess of hearth, home, and domestic life.
Heldan's face hardened. "Why are you here?"
Hestia struggled to answer; she knew if she did not choose her words carefully, she could lose Heldan forever. "The way you speak demonstrated your genuine concern for your men and their families, which drew me in. Also, the fire within you makes me feel safe around you."
Heldan didn't say anything for a while. She was aware that some demigod parents were initially skeptical and that this was an important revelation. But she was expecting her boyfriend to reject her nonetheless, so his response caught her off guard.
"What does this mean for us?" he asked, his voice softening.
"I would like to stay with you. I've never felt this way about someone before, and I'd like to keep it going if you're okay with it." Hestia said she was getting ready for his response.
"Very well." Heldan said, standing up and taking his plate with him to the kitchen.
Now it was Hestia's time to be surprised. She expected Fredrick to reject her since she had been lying to him all along, and he would be unable to have sex with her. But he just responded yes, as if she had asked to work in the medical bay of one of his men's training facilities. Maybe she'd been listening to Artemis too much.
She stood up and wordlessly walked up to her lover, who was washing his dishes in the sink, and pulled him into a hug.
Heldan was a little surprised by the sudden hug, but it felt nice. So this is what true love feels like. I haven't felt like this since that time when I was mortal.
However, Hestia had no idea what was on his mind. Now that he knows her secret, should he tell her his?
Heldan was home after a long day at work. Hestia had been teaching some of the cooks at the cafeteria new cooking techniques, which increased his men's morale dramatically. That attracted even more people, and on good days, the cafeteria had a line out the door.
Oddly enough, he hadn't heard from Hestia in a week. It had been nine months since she revealed her true identity. She had been acting differently for about a month after telling him. She was much happier than she was before, and her smile was as bright as the sun.
But that wasn't the only thing; Heldan noticed she was stringing herself more frequently than usual. And she would frequently take breaks and hold her back, as if she were lifting weights to strengthen her back. She also appeared to be gaining weight around her stomach, but when he looked at her, she appeared normal.
"If Ulric were able to witness my current situation, he would find it amusing to the point of laughter, as if it were a comical jest."
Today was December, so it was pretty hard out. He had to clear his driveway a few times due to all the snow. Sometimes he wished he had someone to help him around the house. Sure, Hestia was always willing to help, but he missed the company of people like him.
Speaking of people like him,.
Heldan got up, moved over to his computer, and switched it on. The screen came on minutes later, allowing him to open up Skype and call one of his contacts from this realm. A minor native American sprite who was still worshipped in this land who needed some help with some monsters who were hunting his followers. However, he did not pick up his call that much.
He sighed and went for a hidden compartment beneath his table. When Heldan was about to open it, he suddenly heard the doorbell ring and came to an abrupt stop. Heldan knew he wasn't expecting anyone, and Hestia never showed up at his house, so it was either a hiker or a monster looking for the wrong person.
He stood up from his chair and pulled out a drawer and grabbed his gun, just in case this person at his door was ready to attack him.
Standing at the door, Fredrick peered through the viewport and saw Hestia standing there with something in her arms. And he heard, just barely, the sound of a baby crying. He put away his hand gun and with haste, opened the door, and let Hestia storm inside. To make sure she wasn't fleeing from anything, Heldan took a brief look around his house. Before he shut the door and locked it once more, his keen eyes noticed that the area was clear for the time being.
He turned around again and saw Hestia warming up by the fireplace with the baby in her arms, whose cry he could now clearly hear. In a hurry, Fredrick approached her to see what in the world was going on.
"Hestia, what is going on?" Why are you holding a baby? Fredrick asked, puzzled.
Hestia turned to him. "This is you, son."
Heldan's eyes shot wide. "Hestia, did you do it?"
"No! "This is your biological son." She yelled, interrupting him in mid-sentence, but she quickly composed herself. "Sorry, but I am in a hurry; I don't have much time."
"Hestia, how could this child be my son? We have never had sex." Heldan replied, completely ignoring Hestia's final sentence.
"Yes, I was surprised too when I started to show signs of pregnancy. Yes, we did not have sex, but our love was enough that yours and my essence combined in my womb to create a child." A tear fell from her eye. "I never thought I would have a child."
It took Heldan a second to come to terms with this reality. "I guess I should show you to your room."
"I can't." Hestia said it felt like her heart was being ripped out.
Heldan was surprised and asked, "Why?"
"There is a law that prevents me from taking an active role in my children's lives; I can't help you raise him."
"That's the dumbest law I have ever heard." Heldan said, what kind of law would separate a parent from his or her child.
"I understand, but if I stay, you and our child will suffer greatly. I will not let that happen to either of you." Hestia stated that tears were pouring from her eyes. "Before I leave, you should know a few things. When he turns twelve, he must go to 3.141 Farm Road on Long Island. He will be protected there. When he is ready, he will say, "It's time for me to go to summer camp," but you will be unable to accompany him.
She came to a halt as the house shook, as if something large was moving outside. When the tremor subsided, fear took over Hestia's face.
"I am out of time; I will try and lead it away." Hestia said she was handing the baby off to Heldan.
"Wait, Hestia, what is out there?" Heldan said urgently.
"A giant, but I will take care of him." As she hurried to the front door, Hestia said,.
"No, let me handle him." Heldan declared.
Hestia looked back at him. "No, you are a mortal; you can't-" but was then cut off by her love.
"Hestia, I'll handle this. "I'll be fine." Heldan ordered the goddess, who was surprised by the mortal's declaration. She was about to speak, but Sigmar beat her to it. "Go now; I will not say it again!"
Hestia hesitated, but her lover's voice sounded so sure that he could handle it that she nodded, then disappeared in a flash of fire.
The house gave another tremble as the giant entered the clearing. The man, with his weeping son in his arms, advanced toward the door. His expression was non-hesitating. No fear. His expression was stoic as he left the house. Only his eyes were filled with silent rage at the creature in front of his home.
A subtle glow of power began to shine from his eye sockets. Which was suppressed against the beast that dares to harm his new-born son.
The monster in front of him was exactly as the books on greek mythology had described it. A massive humanoid monster with great physical stature and strength. Oversized and frequently monstrous men who were closely related to the Greek gods. But Heldan had battled creatures a million times bigger than this sad excuse of a behemoth.
Creatures and abominations that were more beast than man. Commanded by dark forces of such pure evil that even the Titans fear its chaotic power.
The giant stood still. It raised its club, ready to smash the puny mortal's house, now shaking as the sound of thunder rumbled above. It looked at the thing in front of him. The supposed "mortal" was not a mortal who stood on the ground before him.
His entire body and the baby he was carrying in one arm were enveloped in a raw power aura. A silent rage burned behind his mismatched eyes as he stared stoically at the giant. Promising that if they fight right now, it will only face pain. He demonstrated his point by shattering the earth beneath his feet and shining like the sun. A sudden, cold breeze turned into full-fledged hurricane winds capable of tearing down trees, and the clouds above cracked, erupting with lightning and thunder.
"Ephialtes!" he said, giving the giant his full name without fear of reprisal. "Grandchild of Ouranos. grandchild of Gaia. Ancestors of Phaiakians. Brother of Otus. Son of Iphimedie and Aloeus. Bane of Hestia. Monsters, failure, and disappointment, coward."
The giant heard everything at once. What was being said was not a request. It was more of a statement. But at the same time, he didn't hear them at all.
The entity spoke and did not speak. The concept of words seemed ridiculous to this being. The concept of them is a serious threat to the balance of time and being.
"EPIHIALTES! " The raging tempest uttered the giant's name again, and the violence of a dying sun reigned over this world. Echoing through the wind of eternity. Never stops. Never reaching its intended destination. The sensation of pure power extends to the giant, bringing the son of Aloeus to his very knees.
The giant felt uneasy. The giant raised his head, slowly but steadily, to see the mortal known as "Heldan" motionless but standing tall. His usual shirt and jeans are no longer there. He now wears exquisitely crafted armor that shines in the night sky like a new star.
He initially felt he was dealing with a demi-god with control over his powers from his parent god. But he was mistaken. It wasn't Demi-God who was standing before him.
It was a God stands before him. A deity who was older and more powerful than the Olympians gods. A god-king who guards his territories and people in areas where he has unknown domains, unsatisfied ambition, and unrivaled influence over his followers. Who fought threats that exceeded that of the Titans in scale and depravity.
Unfathomable wisdom and stoic, unyielding rage looked straight into the giant's soul from mismatched eyes. Promising the person receiving it never-ending agony.
Starting now.
Heldan gave a roar and swung his warhammer at the beast's head. What the behemoth last perceived was the flat end of the Warhammer charging directly at him. Before it smashed through the giant's skull and destroying the monster's entire head. Sending golden blood and skull shards into his front yard for almost a hundred thousand miles. Sending the creature back to Tartarus to reform, but now bearing the permeant scar as a warning to those who dare come after those he loves.
For Hestia wasn't the only one hiding a secret.
The man known as "Heldan" was simply a ruse to conceal his true name, one of many aliases that he used to live among the mortals throughout the centuries.
For his real name...is Sigmar.
Sigmar Heldenhammer.
The lord of the realm of Azyr and the free people's of the cities of Sigmar.
The god of civilization and progress.
Patron deity of man.
God of battle.
Bravery.
Celestial bodies.
Justice.
Lighting.
Nations self-sufficiency.
Sky.
Starlight.
Storm.
strength.
strength in adversity.
Thunder.
War.
He worked hard to remain hidden from this realm's gods and goddesses. He is also a god, but unlike the others, he was a mortal before becoming a god, predating both the Greeks and the Titans. Back when Ouranos, the primordial deity of the sky, ruled the earth with an iron fist,.
Sigmar first entered this realm when Kronos, King of the Titans, infiltrated Sigmaron's territory and stole a piece of Mallus' metallic core from Dracothion's nose. Almost completely collapsed the core in the process. Only the Collegiate Arcane wizards and Sigmar's abilities prevented the orb from imploding.
When it was finished, Sigmar became enraged and pursued the titan. Although Cronos can now fight Sigmar on equal terms thanks to the absence of his powerful Warhammer, Ghal Maraz, Sigmar was also a god of great cunning. Something that the god king learned when he was mortal many years earlier.
So he disguised himself as a mortal man to hide in plain sight. He was mingling with the human population that suffered under his tyrannical rule.
The great Titanomachy occurred around this time. A ten-year conflict between the Olympians and Titans. The only conclusion came when the Olympians defeated the Titans and Zeus freed the cyclops, who forged formidable weapons for the gods and the terrifying Hecatoncheirs of Tartarus, giants with 100 arms and 50 heads.
Sigmar occasionally assisted the Olympians in the background while looking for the Mallus metal core piece. After nearly ten years of searching, he found out what Kronos did with the molten core. However, it would seem that the winds of fate decided to put on some kind of cruel joke on Sigmar. Since Cronos had already used it.
The Titan King seems to have realized the Olympians were winning the war against him. Fearful about what would happen if the Olympians won the war, Cronos decided to use the molten core.
By restoring this "old world," Kronos hoped to use it as a place to heal his wounds and restore his already diminished strength. However, this "new world" only had a couple minor differences in the sizes of the continents.
Kronos hoped to use it as a place to hide and heal his injuries. Restore his already diminished strength. But Sigmar would not let this happen.
So, without hesitation, the man god closed all of the realm gates he could find leading to the eight realms. Trapping Kronos on Terra to be defeated by his son, Zeus.
After the Titans were imprisoned in Tartarus, the man god planned to introduce himself to the Olympians, hoping that they would join his alliance against the forces of chaos and that Zeus and the Olympians would be more just rulers than their tyrannical father. But having experienced treachery firsthand, he kept himself hidden, wanting to make sure that the Olympians were not like their Titan predecessors.
Nonetheless, his suspicions about Zeus' despotic personality were eventually confirmed. He, like his father, became a tyrant, corrupting humanity further and chaining the beloved Prometheus to a mountain in the Caucasus.
Sigmar, not wanting to align himself with such a paranoid god (he already had Malerion and his mother Morathi to deal with), resolved to return to his kingdom, visiting the 9th realm every 200 years. Staying out of the Olympian's sights. Assisting humanity in gradually becoming the Earth's lords.
Precisely what Prometheus desired.
That does not, however, imply that Sigmar cannot help a few "special" mortal civilizations that could be valuable to him in his quest to vanquish the lords of chaos. Throughout thousands of years, Sigmar has saved thousands of innocents from lost kingdoms and fallen empires who once lived in this realm. Putting them into the "New World" to rebuild. Individuals with the ability to make a significant difference and to aid the forces of order in the tenth realm. Only stopping in the 18th century, when the Greek gods started to take notice.
Forcing Sigmar to leave a contingent of his storm caste Eternal's on Terra to act as his left-hand. However, everything appears to be changing today.
The god-king stood silently, attempting to console his son. His only child. Sigmar wondered if this was how his father felt while holding him in his arms on that bloody day. And for the first time in his immortal life, the god of order was unsure what to do next.
He could tell the child in his arms had the strength of an Olympian and an Azyr. Such power could be used for great good or terrible evil, and knowing the king of Olympus' paranoia when dealing with threats to his rule. Zeus would kill his son without hesitation, even if this was his sister's first child, just to keep his right as king.
His son's crying stopped, then turned to giggling as he snuggled closer to his father's chest to stay warm. This made Sigmar smile. He raised a single finger and gently touched his son's chubby face. This act caused the baby to smile at him, warming his heart inside his chest as the baby's tiny hands griped his finger.
Sigmar sighed and decided that his son should be raised here, but trained in the arts of war, to better defend himself when the child gets older.
The god king of Azyr is suspicious; Hestia will watch their affair, but he doubts she will intervene. He cannot risk the Greek gods learning about the eight realms.
Not yet.
"Heron," Sigmar said softly.
"I shall name you Heron Heldenhammer."
In response, the baby laughed happily, indicating that it liked the name.
A second later, Sigmar tore open a human-sized rift into reality before walking through and closing it behind him
The Mortal Realms have been despoiled. Ravaged by the followers of the Chaos gods, they stand on the brink of utter destruction.
The fortress cities of Sigmar are islands of light in a sea of darkness.
Constantly besieged, their walls were assailed by maniacal hordes and monstrous beasts.
The bones of good men are littered thickly outside the gates. These bulwarks of order are embattled within as well as without, for the lure of chaos beguiles the citizens with the promises of power.
Still, the champions of order fight on. At the break of dawn, the Crusaders bell rings, and a new expedition departs. Storm-forged knights march shoulder to shoulder with resolute militia, stoic duardin, and slender aelves. Bedecked in the splendor of war, the Dawn-bringer crusades venture out to find civilizations anew. These grim pioneers bring them the fires of hope. Yet they go forth into a hellish wasteland.
Out in the wilds, hardy colonists restore order to a crumbling world. Haunted eyes scan the horizon for tyrannical reavers as they build upon the bones of ancient empires, eking out a meager existence from cursed soil and ice-cold seas. Through their valor, the fate of the mortal realms will be decided.
The Ravening terrors that prey upon these settlers take a thousand forms. Cannibal barbarians and deranged murderers crawl from hidden lairs. Martial hosts clad in black steel march from skull-strewn castles. The savage hordes of destruction batter the frontier towns until no stone stands atop another. In the dead of night come howling throngs of the undead, hungry to feast upon the living. Now two new realms have been discovered.
One lives in blissful ignorance with thousands of different gods. While the other is an old realm destroyed, now reborn anew.
Against such foes, courage is the truest defense and the most effective weapon. It is something that Sigmar's chosen do not lack. But they are not always strong enough to prevail, and even in victory, each new battle saps their soul a little more.
This is a time of turmoil. This is the era of war.
This is the age of Sigmar.
Okay, here's the first chapter of my Percy Jackson and Warhammer Age of Sigmar crossover. However, I opted to recreate the globe (with a handful of add-on continents to make it more like Earth and new civilizations) as an all-point or eight-point game rather than an island floating in the Aetheric Void. It's a planet with realmgates located all throughout the world. Because I'm still a little mad at the author for destroying the entire Warhammer fantasy universe which I hate
As for Sigmar, he has more domains than Zeus or any of the Olympian gods. Thus, Sigmar is a very, very overpowered god in the eyes of the Olympians; however, the only reason he doesn't kill Zeus is simple. He doesn't have the time or the reason, but he could be a useful ally. Adding to the fact that Zeus is now his brother in all because Sigmar now has a son with Hestia, as for that idea of giving Hestia a kid, you can thank Bladewold101, Hellsreaper1, or Slim A Lou Prime. I don't know who came up with the idea first, sadly. But whoever got the idea first gets the credit.
Tell me what you think.