Post by Mr. C on Sept 7, 2009 20:37:20 GMT -5
XXI.
"They need your help, Hammer..."
Hammer and Glaeg rushed in to the cave, hurrying fast against the thunderous storm outside. But not to relieve themselves from the elements, but in order to save the seer that lives inside this hole in the side of the mountain. Inside, the seer is in no eminent danger, there were no demons running about like there were outside, she wasn’t hurt in any way. But instead, the heroes see that the she is hard at work looking in to the fires before her, staring deeply in to the crackling embers. But her wrinkled features give away that she was indeed the one to call out for them, as her wrinkled brow is furrowed deeply in distress – because in the fires before her, the premonition she saw was the falling of Asgaard.
The demons were pushing the Aesir back on Bifrost, the massive army of frost giants, fire giants and beasts from the underworlds were fighting the Gods of Asgaard hard, and winning. There they were, lined up with the warriors of Valhalla and the Valkyries that brought them to the battlefield, and even with their collective might they could not overcome the forces of Loki during Ragnarok. The warriors of Asgaard were back pedaling, nearing retreat back across Bifrost, and the bastards they fought continued to march forward towards the gilded halls of the Gods’ homeland.
Angry, Cross growled and clentched his fists tightly, unable to withstand what he was seeing. It was obvious that seeing this, and not just the vision but the feelings of hopelessness that came with it pained Brett greatly. In his mind, he was struggling to find a way to get there, thinking out any possibility he could to aid them, and as he glanced up at the old seer, ready to ask those very questions, she smiled and cast a handful of dust in to the fire, causing the flames to shoot up high. They danced about the stalactites at the stone ceiling and then as the inferno calmly slid back down to a manageable size, a figure stood in the middle of the fires: The God of Midgaard, Brett Cross. Cross eyed his reflection in the flames with a cautious eye, unsure what it meant. And luckily for him, the seer could tell this thought too, before he even spoke it and she softly spoke her reply.
“Aid them ye will, Hammer. Aid them ye will.”
Using her cane to aid her towards the fire, she hobbled forward and waved her hand over the small bonfire, and the spinning tentacles of the fire twisted and contorted in to a new shape, a new scene. This time, they showed Cross once more, but they showed him in one of his first true epic battles, in a display of god-like strength. The words the seer continued to speak rang quietly deep in the back of his mind – they were heard but not registered as he saw from the outside what he had truly accomplished in his life so far.
“They need a man with your strength…”
Inside the flames, was the scene of Brett Cross raising the Jotun’s foot high above his head as he stood up from the banks of snow and corpses in Jotunheimr back during the original quest for Brandrwulf. Cross’s face was a bloody, flushed wash of grit and anger as he held the Jotun’s foot off of him, and as hard as the Frost Giant tried, he could not bring it down to finish off Cross.
Glaeg silently cheered, but as he did, he soon realized Cross would not last forever, and his presumption was instantly acknowledged as The Norse Hammer began to look about for a weapon, for something to defend himself. Even Brett Cross’ immense strength was nothing compared to this monster’s and the end was coming in just a matter of time. The Jotun still had the pin-sized broadsword stuck in his hand, and mistakenly, a product of pride perhaps, that was all Cross had thought to bring. Then, he came up with the plan. Holding the beast’s boulder-sized big toe with one hand, Cross reached down in to the death-valley and retrieved a rib of one of the fallen. Cross closed his eyes and then quickly rammed it up in to the sole of the beast’s foot, instantly being showered in a frozen spray of gore.
And Brett’s strength is indeed legendary. Far greater than Warrior’s, that’s for sure. Brett Cross has strength greater than Warrior’s, but not just greater but far greater than he’d ever hope to achieve. In fact, the strength of this Viking surpasses everyone in The Asylum with ease, bar none. The strength of Brett Cross will even be enough to lift this out-of-shape old man. For you see, it’s a trait he’s devoted an entire life towards perfecting, and just like the gods of Asgaard, Cross’ strength is unmatched and perfect.
“And they need a man with your ingenuity…”
The waves of fire contorted once more, and a new scene arrived in the blaze. Calling out to the beast, Cross wound up and threw the cast-iron lantern with all of his might inside the scene of fire. The chain looped over the bewildered giant’s head until it was taught and then Cross ran after it. As it dangled off the beast, Cross managed to jump up and yank it down, holding it tight as the demon tried to stand once more. Hammer struggled against the giant’s immense strength, but as he did Brandrwulf glowed at this side and he managed to hold tight against his foe. Despite the size difference, Brett Cross’ might was a match for the beast of legend for he’s “The God of Midgaard,” “The Norse Hammer” Brett Cross and his strength and war-courage are unmatched in all the nine worlds. Then, with a resounding battle cry, one that rivaled the ferocity of the demon Jotun’s, Cross tugged hard on the chain and as he did, the Jotun fell forward and with a sickening crunch and squish, his throat was pierced by one of the many jagged piers that stood up in the fallen Hall. The beast slid downward, the blood greasing the fall as he toppled forward further on to the support,
And it was true Cross wouldn’t fall to any veteran savvy or any under-handed tricks. While Brett may not have done as much as Warrior in his career, he’s certainly been in the business for just as long, in one capacity or another. He knows the way Warrior works, even if the two have never faced off. He knows all of the tricks, the ways competitors attempt to get the better of their opponent, and it’s too bad they need to resort to these tactics, because Cross won’t fall for such cowardly antics. In fact, he won’t fall to Warrior at all. It will be Warrior that falls before him.
“And they need a man with your inability to quit…”
Again the blaze twisted and reformed the image, and as if he was there again, Cross remembered the flash of red pain, as rows of razor-sharp teeth drove in to his forearm from the top and bottom. The beast latched on tight and the shooting pain combined with the surprise attack startled Cross in to a gritty grunt of a yelp. Cross then growled in return, far deeper then the wolf had and swung his arm back, throwing the demon aside and sprawling it with a crunch in to the trunk of a nearby tree. Brett turned back in to the fray, squinting in to the legions of black, looking for where the next growling, rabid hell spawn would come from, his heart pounding fast. Just as he turned, a second wolf ran up behind him, clawing up his back and nipping at his neck from behind. Cross made a quick turn-around, elbowing the poor creature viciously in its brittle ribs and sending it too, sprawled out to the way side. Two more wolves ran in from the front, and the weight of them jumping together upon him sent Cross on to his back, with both blood-thirsty heathens yelping and snapping at his face and throat. As they scratched and clawed their way closer, both creatures of black trying to tear off his face, to feed on the flesh of his throat, Cross let out a fierce yell and an explosion of strength, and rolled over on top of both beasts before planting his fist firm in to the head of the first.
The first beast’s snout crumpled under the force of the blow, collapsing like an accordion, with both of its’ eyes bloodshot and looking ready to burst. Brett Cross then pulled back his blood-stained fist and brought it down on the other wolf, crunching it’s skull in below its ear, separating its jaw from the base of his head and smashing in all of its teeth. Cross stood slowly, weary and torn, and then turned, jutting the hunting spear out just in time to skewer the final beast from eye to ear. The growl turned to a yelp and the yelp cut off in to silence as The Norse Hammer yanked the spear back free of his prey all within the same fluid motion and all before the creature even hit the ground. Bloody white gunk from brain and eye alike clung to the tip of the spearhead.
Because no matter what Warrior tries, he won’t wear down the God of Midgaard. Whether he attempts to wear him down with tricks or his in-ring skill, it won’t much matter. World champion or not, he’s still a chump compared to Cross. He’s still a washed-up has-been. He’s still an old man, and he never should have came out of retirement. He can build himself up however he wants, but he must realize that the fact of the matter is, and he’s proving it the longer he stays in the ring, is that his time is long since past. This week, Cross won’t back down, he won’t quit and he WILL win.
“And they need someone who is entirely ruthless, Hammer.”
And as the fires continue to reel the highlights of Cross’ wartime, Cross smirks in to the fire, knowing that he has indeed earned the title of “The God of Midgaard.” Because Cross won’t back down, and he won’t just win. He’s not going in to this coming match with the goal of defeating Warrior, he’s looking to destroy him and put him out of his misery. Not for all the grief he caused him as former owner of this federation, but to show him he should have stayed retired. And he’ll do it by smashing in his face with The Hammer Mjollnir.
“They need you, Hammer. They need The God of Midgaard to aid them. You must aid them, so they can return the favor and aid you here on Midgaard.”
Staring in to the flames, Cross nods in agreement and grips Brandrwulf at his side, for he knew too that they needed his help. And after seeing all he’d done in this past year, he knew he was up to the challenge. He truly felt like a God, and now he had to prove it.
