Jetni the Giant
Jotunn such as Jetni are scattered and isolated in the most inhospitable depths of the Redspike Mountains. These towering humanoids, with memories stretching back centuries, recall great wars and sacrifices of their people, and the old alliances that once bound them to Teleria. Some feel only a sad nostalgia, or actively wish to fade away. But there are a few who refuse to quietly exit the stage of history.
Because of their rich memories and preference for solitude, many Jotunn are prone to periods of deep reminiscence, sometimes spending months on end in physical torpor and mental cogitation. Jetni awoke once from such a state feeling a rare fire in her icy heart, and decided that she could not let any more time slip away. She wanted to accomplish something great. Wandering from the peaks to the more inhabited lower foothills and passes, she encountered the people of Frostheim. As though following the script of a conqueror of old, she demanded tribute and submission, becoming a menace to the northernmost Frostheim holds. Alsgor, the hetman of the strongest, Crimsonhorn, parlayed with her. They met on neutral ground, Alsgor’s warriors present but at a distance.
Jotunn and hetman circled one another. Alsgor demanded a justification for Jetni’s rampages. She replied fiercely that greatness is never won with meekness. Glory was her aim, and it required violence. Alsgor spat at her notions.
Jetni charged Alsgor, and though his warriors moved to intervene, Alsgor raised a fist to stop them. He met Jetni’s massive form head-on. As the two brawled, the hetman countered Jetni’s size with his dexterity, and traded blows with her three-for-one, though each hit from the Jotunn was like that of a sledgehammer.
His ribs broken and his muscles pulverized, Alsgor cried out to Jetni. He named the glories that he treasured: friends, family, fairness, mercy, the honor of the forefathers, protection of the weak, love of the Goddess and her Light. He swore to Jetni that without these things, violence would bring her only shame and ruin. Then, at last, he collapsed. His retinue raced to him.
Jetni herself soon fell to the ground. Alsgor’s warriors bound her tightly, while others tended to their hetman, setting his dislocated limbs and swabbing his bloodied brow. Both were carried off, he to be succored and she to the center of the town where a huge makeshift cage was constructed around her.
Six days passed for Alsgor to heal, and then he presided over Jetni’s trial. He stunned the assembled crowd by sentencing her to servitude rather than death – she was to repair her damages, labor to pay her debts, and learn right from wrong. Furthermore, since it was his sentence and his potential folly, he declared he would accompany her, and his force of arms would carry out the death penalty if necessary. So began a partnership and a journey of growth that shall perhaps see Jetni redeemed… if Alsgor’s guidance proves true, for he himself is a complex and troubled soul…
