[centre]
[h1][color=orange][b][u]Kalmar[/u][/b][/color][/h1]
&

[img]https://i.imgur.com/Se4Pc57.png[/img]
[i]57 years after the soul heist.[/i][/centre]

The mighty elk's hooves scratched into the fine snow beneath its head. With a guttural grunt, it dipped its hairy lips into the snow to pluck out a few blades of grass and the flesh of a fruit too tough for most tree-dwellers. The crunching of the fruit between its teeth broke into the quiet whine of cold wind that brushed the dusty white across the land. It was accompanied in the black-barked and white-carpeted forest by a doe and a squirrel.

The squirrel was twitchy enough to scurry off before the smell and sound of a pelted stone punched into the great buck's neck.

The buck slumped onto its side with the force of a gale. The doe bolted. The rock rolled down from the dented neck and crunched gently into the snow.

[colour=Red][b]"Gotcha, you tricky little scamp..."[/b][/colour] A hulking red god kicked his way through a snow drift to reach the dead elk. Clacking quietly against his back was the wooden sound of several sets of elk and moose antlers tied to a long white rope clutched over his shoulder. He mumbled incredulities to himself as he stooped down to the beast's head.

[colour=Red][b]"You'd think with all the snow you lot wouldn't be hear me as far off as you did, but here you are-"[/b][/colour] [i]SNAP[/i] went an antler, broken fresh off the skull. [colour=Red][b]"-squealing away like you got all the ladies starin' at your tail..."[/b][/colour]

A sudden chill could be felt in the air, and a divine presence revealed itself. [color=orange]”Kirron,”[/color] a voice stated rather flatly.

The red god turned his head up and peered over his shoulder.

Kalmar stood not too far behind the Blood God, the white cloak of a polar bear draped over his shoulders, as he glanced upon Kirron’s antics with a vague look of disapproval.

[colour=Red][b]"Well met!"[/b][/colour] Kirron stood up and turned around, dragging the carcass by the remaining antler. His other fist, carrying the broken counterpart rested on the belt around his waist. [colour=Red][b]"It's been a while, Kalmar,"[/b][/colour] he said with half a smile and a raised brow. [colour=Red][b]"I wasn't talking about you, by the way. I meant this fellow."[/b][/colour] He side-eyed the still surprised face of the dead elk. [colour=Red][b]"Or what's left of him. Anyway, what's new? A nice land you made. Suits you."[/b][/colour]

Kalmar nodded at the compliment, before looking back down at Kirron’s elk. [color=orange]”A clean enough kill, good work on that,”[/color] he observed. [color=orange]”But I have to wonder why you’re collecting all those antlers.”[/color]

As if wondering himself for a moment, Kirron lifted the broken antler to look at it curiously. [colour=Red][b]"Uh, I'm making something for some friends of mine down south. No idea whether it'll work, but I was thinking these things could make for a great framework."[/b][/colour] The lack of the framework's stated purpose was conspicuously absent. [colour=Red][b]"These antlers have an energy to them. You know?"[/b][/colour]

Kalmar raised an eyebrow. [color=orange]”And what about the rest of the animal?”[/color] he questioned.

Kirron's other hand lifted up the carcass awkwardly up to its hindquarters and gave it an up-and-down glance. He poked out his lower lip and looked to Kalmar. [colour=Red][b]"Don't really need him."[/b][/colour]

Kalmar frowned. [color=orange]”If you’re going to kill something, the least you could do is ensure that most of it gets used. Either by you, or something else.”[/color]

Kirron hummed and shrugged into his answer. [colour=Red][b]"Something's gotta be using it. It rots after a few days, don't it?"[/b][/colour]

[color=orange]”Preferably it should be used [i]before[/i] it rots,”[/color] Kalmar argued. [color=orange]”Otherwise there was no point in killing it. It might as well have been allowed to die from disease, or old age.”[/color]

For a while, Kirron stood silent with his brow low and his mouth stupidly agape, deep in the most erudite and rigorous philosophical grinding of wheels in his mind. He looked to a tree, to the sky, and itched the side of his head with the antler.

He lifted a finger in realisation. No, he mouthed, bowing his head. He slowly closed his eyes, slowly opened them, and then a grin formed across his face. He peered to Kalmar and waggled a finger. [colour=Red][b]"Aaah, I see,"[/b][/colour] he boasted. [colour=Red][b]"I get it now. Yes, I see like a hawk. You want to share this elk with me, don't you?"[/b][/colour] He suddenly hefted the carcass over his shoulder and beckoned with the broken antler. [colour=Red][b]"Well come right along, brother! No need to be shy about it! We'll find a place to roast this big fellow up and catch up over some fresh meat!"[/b][/colour]

[color=orange]”Might as well,”[/color] Kalmar said with a shrug. The chilly air seemed to die down. [color=orange]”In the future, though, if you kill something it would be best to eat it yourself, or find another creature to feed it to, instead of just leaving it. Now, I think I know a spot nearby…”[/color]

Kirron waved off the comment. [colour=Red][b]"Yeah, yeah, I got terrible manners sometimes, brother. I'll be more considerate."[/b][/colour]

[hr]
[color=orange]”So how did that dispute with the Grottu get resolved?”[/color]

They sat in a flat, rocky, barren section of land at the base of a mountain, with a view of the northern bay. There, a fire made in the snow crackled between them, and Kalmar now held a stick over the fire with a chunk of meat at the end, nearby a wooden spit suspending the skinned upper leg of the elk. Naturally, they continued to converse of a great many experiences between them. The God of the Hunt had decided to make inquiries regarding the Selka.

[colour=Red][b]"That's the clever part,"[/b][/colour] Kirron explained, staring into the flames. [colour=Red][b]"The Hyummin got together and trapped their fighters in with some fire. Had 'em packed in so tight their metal spears weren't right to kill with. They got beaten like cornered snakes."[/b][/colour] He licked his upper teeth idly. [colour=Red][b]"The Grottu left got conquered. Life goes on for 'em. Honest, I didn't know it'd end that fast, but I gotta hand it to those selka, they're teaching me all sorts of new tricks."[/b][/colour] His smile faded. [colour=Red][b]"Or maybe they're just making me remember things,"[/b][/colour] he quietly added.

[color=orange]”And who would you say gave them those spears?”[/color] Kalmar asked, turning the stick over.

Kirron vulgarly blew through his lips. [colour=Red][b]"Beats me. Could've been any number of gods or other things. Chopstick Eyes, Narzhak, Sartravius, Shengshi...could've been someone I don't even know about yet."[/b][/colour] He turned his small eyes up to Kalmar. [colour=Red][b]"Think hard enough and anyone could have a reason to chuck some pointy sticks into the hands of a bunch'a mortal folk."[/b][/colour]

[color=orange]”Narzhak or Sartravius,”[/color] Kalmar assumed. [color=orange]”Narzhak has toyed with some of my own creations and turned them against each other in the past. And Sartravius had already raised armies elsewhere. Do you know what the Grottu were trying to accomplish? Or did they just want more land?”[/color]

Kirron took his time reaching over the spit and tearing off a strip of roasted leg with his bare hands. He sat back down with a satisfied breath before ripping into a mouthful with the left side of his triangular teeth. [colour=Red][b]"They were scared, Kalmar,"[/b][/colour] Kirron said through his chewing. [colour=Red][b]"Mortal life, it ain't got much calm to it. Those Grottu folks, they wanted to pretend it wasn't gonna eat them alive by thinking I made them invincible."[/b][/colour] He swallowed. [colour=Red][b]"They just wanted to keep lying to themselves is what."[/b][/colour]

[color=orange]”Sounds cowardly,”[/color] Kalmar observed. [color=orange]”That isn’t much of a reason. They could have used those spears for hunting, or fishing, or even defending themselves against others who could have attacked them first. Instead they started cutting down their own kind.”[/color]

[colour=Red][b]"Maybe if they said it out loud like you did just now,"[/b][/colour] Kirron said with a small point of his finger. [colour=Red][b]"...They might not be dead."[/b][/colour] He returned to his meal. [colour=Red][b]"Like I said before, I don't think I needed to step in any more than I did."[/b][/colour] Another noisy squelch preceded Kirron taking another bite. [colour=Red][b]"I reckon you'll have some tales to tell soon enough, with all your Vallimoos scampering about now. Don't judge 'em too harsh for cowardice before they know what the word means, eh?"[/b][/colour]

[color=orange]”How many Vallamir have you encountered?”[/color] Kalmar asked, now that the topic of his own creations had come up. He pulled the roasted meat away from the fire, inspected it briefly, and took a bite.

[colour=Red][b]"None yet. Just the way you talk about 'em. Sounds like you've got expectations."[/b][/colour] He slurped up a shredded tendon sticking out between his teeth.

[color=orange]”I made them to be quick and intelligent,”[/color] Kalmar answered. [color=orange]”Yes, there has been some conflict - between individuals, or small groups - but they’re getting better at handling that, and I’d say they’re smart enough not to start any larger scale wars.”[/color]

Kirron broke into a broad chuckle, holding the side of his fist near his mouth in case he sputtered. [colour=Red][b]"Never took you for the optimistic type."[/b][/colour] Kirron took in a deep breath through his nose. [colour=Red][b]"Speaking of the future, what's next for you?"[/b][/colour]

Kalmar shrugged. [color=orange]”The Vallamir will grow and spread. Karamir, the first of their kind, is out looking for new discoveries that he can come back and show them. In the meantime, I’ll have to continue showing them new things, give them new ways to protect themselves.”[/color] He took another bite of meat. [color=orange]”Of course, I don’t think they should be the only intelligent life on this land. As I said, they’re smart and quick, but some diversity would be good. Maybe another species, built around strength and resilience, better off in the cold northern climates instead of the warm southern ones.”[/color]

[colour=Red][b]"Hm."[/b][/colour] Kirron turned towards the snowiest portion of their viewpoint. [colour=Red][b]"'Spose it'd be awful quiet up in the cold, huh?"[/b][/colour] he voiced. [colour=Red][b]"It would be better with some noise. Some voice. What did you have in mind, if this new species is coming?"[/b][/colour]

[color=orange]”The interesting thing about intelligent mortals, is that you can’t always tell which direction they’ll go,”[/color] Kalmar answered. [color=orange]”I have a few ideas in mind; teachings and abilities they can use to their advantage, but for the most part I don’t intend to lead them directly. What they do is up to them, and I’ll only step in if they start killing each other or destroying the forests they need to survive.”[/color]

Kirron paid only as much attention as he needed to. [colour=Red][b]"...You get fun out of the method, don't you, brother?"[/b][/colour] He remarked. [colour=Red][b]"Making mortals in enough numbers not to die quick, though. Takes a toll. Especially with all your plans."[/b][/colour]

The red god stuck the remainder of his meat onto the spit. It glistened, raw and undercooked, and likely more than a little tough. No match for the jaws of the god of strength, but there was taste to account for as well.

[colour=Red][b]"I'll be plain with you, brother,"[/b][/colour] Kirron said, hands woven together leaning forward. [colour=Red][b]"You keep exerting yourself on this strip of land, on these people you nurse around, you put yourself in danger of some of our other siblings pushing you around. I ain't gonna protect you, but if it's important for you to get these mortals made in the north, I can offer some help if you want."[/b][/colour]

[color=orange]”I can handle myself, and I’m not without friends or allies,”[/color] Kalmar pointed out. [color=orange]”What would you want in return for this help?”[/color]

Kirron paused. He glanced at the fire and leaned slowly back, the hides around his waist and upper legs creaking against the ground and one another. [colour=Red][b]"Nothin'"[/b][/colour] he decided.

Kalmar swallowed another mouthful of food. [color=orange]”You have my thanks, then. We can get started as soon as we’re finished here.”[/color]

[hr]
The work took five long and arduous days and nights. The effort of two gods aligned with bodily might could have performed any great effort to meet their goals, but their task upon themselves was a hunt. A terrifying hunt in its unending scale. The antlers of the creatures of Kalgrun had a strength to them, Kirron had explained. Upon Kalmar's insistence, they took up the rest of the body and found it contained strength as well.

Each night, the pair would compete to see how many hulking woodland creatures they could drag up to the northern wastelands. Kalmar had more kills, though Kirron had an easier time bringing greater piles of the dead over his shoulders. Kirron, though outperformed, was having too much fun to show any weariness. Kalmar, for his part, maintained his grim demeanor, but he could not hide that there was some level of satisfaction in this work.

Each day, the pair butchered, piled the various pieces, and built mixes of iced gore, bone, antler and snow. Each grisly snow sculpture hardened in the freezing winds, taking the shapes of powerful humanoid physiques.

Those five nights, the mightiest creatures of northern Kalgrun felt a new fear of the gods.

By the sunset of the sixth day, Kirron jumped down from the last standing snow sculpture, having packed the last details of snow around the broken moose skull that shaped its head. Kirron stood covered in scraps of flesh and darkened spatters of old beast blood. He shooed away a curious winter spirit like a bug, before turning on his heel to witness the rest.

In a haphazard formation stood countless snowy pink and red pillars of snow. Maroon kidneys, livers, and spleens poked out of the snow like plaguey bubos, seeping frozen lines of black blood. The cold blew tiny frost off each, giving the illusion of ghostly hair waving from their heads.

There was a flash of metal as a knife appeared in Kalmar’s hand, as the Hunter stepped forward. [color=orange]”When I made the Vallamir, I used some of my own blood. Roog offered his own too, and Li’Kalla gave a hair. Seems fitting that we’d do something similar here, too.”[/color]

Kirron eyed the knife and nodded upwards. [colour=Red][b]"That oughta wake them up, yeah."[/b][/colour] He half-smiled at Kalmar. [colour=Red][b]"Give yourself a little cut, I can hit 'em all at once. It'll be a sight to see."[/b][/colour]

With a nod of his own, Kalmar drew the knife across his palm, creating a perfect cut through the scar from the Vallamir’s creation. He then offered the knife up to Kirron, only to see the blood god with his teeth wrapped around a portion of his forearm.

The heat of Kirron's blood steamed in the frigid air, but as he drew his arm away, leaving a dashed line of punctures from which bright red ichor flowed, not a single drop touched the snow. Neither from Kirron or Kalmar. Each drop clung to the next, growing into a viscous blob that steamed more furiously as it accumulated. Kirron drew his hand up, and the blood sizzled as if on the coals of a fire.

A stream of tiny droplets rose like fumes into the air from Kalmar's hand and Kirron's arm, twisting together as they rose up. The sky above dimmed in the shadow of the suspended liquid, and it spread, forming low, pink clouds. The power in the air baked against the skin of the gods. Every heartbeat carried potential out across the fields of gory standing statues.

Kirron instructed, looking intently up into the red mist. [colour=Red][b]"Chill the air, watch them awaken."[/b][/colour]

But before he had even finished speaking, Kalmar had already begun. The air began to freeze, so much so that even the creatures used to this climate began to shiver. The clouds turned blue, and then began to rain droplets of icey blood upon the statues. 

When the droplets found their mark, they wasted no time in seeping deep into the snow. The blood rain continued, and once the clouds were drained and dispersed, each snowy statue had clearly defined blue veins. The veins began to glow, and then the bodies began to change. The hardened snow took on the smoothness of flesh and muscle. The cracked bones and torn vitals within began to reform themselves, creating a proper skeleton and functioning organs. Eyes appeared, and began to blink. Mouths opened, to reveal teeth. Fingers grew nails, and fists began to open and close. The strongest or most confident even began to flex, showing off powerful, well-defined muscles and astounding physiques. Others had instead focused on forming sounds with their new mouths, and from there began to attempt their first words.

[color=orange]”Looks like it worked,”[/color] Kalmar observed.

Kirron was showing every one of his pearly sharp teeth. [colour=Red][b]"Ah, they're worth every second!"[/b][/colour] he bellowed, spreading his arms. [colour=Red][b]"WELCOME TO LIFE!"[/b][/colour] He laughed an echoing, triumphant laugh that called the giant men and women to attention.

The laugh turned heads, most of whom were as tall as Kirron himself. As they looked upon their creators, they displayed a wide range of emotions.

[color=orange]”You are the Jotnar, and the land you stand on is called Kalgrun,”[/color] Kalmar declared, stepping forward. [color=orange]”My name is Kalmar, and this is Kirron. You were created not to serve, but to live life as you see fit, taking guidance as needed. All I ask is that you respect the land and each other.”[/color]

Kirron planted his fists to his hips. He beamed like a forge. [colour=Red][b]"And all I ask is that you respect yourselves."[/b][/colour]

At first, there was a mix of reactions. Some of the Jotnar began to look to each other. Others looked to the sky or the ground. A few who had quickly grasped the basics of speech began to speak amongst themselves. Many simply continued to stare at their creators, as if sizing them up.

And then, the vast majority of them began to nod, or issue some form of confirmation. Those three things, they could manage.

[hr]

[hider=Post Summary]
The post opens up with Kirron trying his hand at hunting, in the Frigid Forest of Kalgrun. His go-to method appears to be hurling rocks at his prey until they die, and then taking their antlers. Kalmar finds him, and begins to question why he is only taking the antlers, which Kirron seems to interpret as a passive-aggressive attempt to get him to share food.

Anyway, they set up a fire, and begin to cook the deer. A lot of off-screen catching up happens. Kirron finally gets familiar with the dramas and goings-on of the Northern Hemisphere, filtered through Kalmar's retellings, and vice versa from Kirron to Kalmar about the south. The scene opens as they talk a bit about the Grottu’s failed conquest, who could have been behind it, and why it happened. The conversation then shifts toward the Vallamir, with Kalmar briefly going over their strengths and explaining why he believes what happened with the Grottu is unlikely to happen on the same scale for them.

Kirron then asks what Kalmar is going to do next, and Kalmar reveals that he intends to create another sapient species, one intended to excel in skills that the Vallamir do not. Kirron warns Kalmar that he might be over-investing in his continent, leaving himself vulnerable in doing so, and offers to take up some of the cost.

Kalmar isn’t concerned, but agrees to take Kirron’s help. They decide that the new species will be built from the remains of beasts hunted throughout the region, and soon get to work. They build thousands of snow statues, with organs, bone, and muscle packed inside, and then use their blood to bring the new species to life.

Kalmar tells them they are free to do as they please, on the condition that they respect the land and each other. Kirron adds a third condition: that the Jotnar respect themselves as well. The Jotnar agree.
[/hider]

[hider=MP Summary]
[u]Kalmar[/u]
[b]Beginning MP:[/b] 4
[b]Beginning FP:[/b] 8

[u]Expenditures[/u]
-3MP to create the Jotnar.

[b]Ending MP:[/b] 1
[b]Ending FP:[/b] 9

[u]Kirron[/u]
[i]Before:[/i] Kirron - Blood, Strength - 9 MP - 11 FP

-3 MP to assist in creating the Jotnar, an extraordinary sapient species.

[i]After:[/i] Kirron - Blood, Strength - 6 MP - 11 FP
[/hider]

[hider=The Jotnar]
The Jotnar are a tall humanoid species, ranging between eight and ten feet in height. They have pale, snow white skin, and icey blue blood which generates cold rather than warmth. Hair tends to be either blond, blue, grey, or in extremely rare cases, black. Their lips are generally a dark blue or purple, and during intense bursts of emotion their cheeks will flush a light blue. When a Jotnar is in poor health, their skin will usually become an ashen grey colour.

Being partially created by the God of Strength, and designed to contrast the lean and agile Vallamir, the Jotnar are a strong and muscular people, with durable skin and a high pain tolerance. Their lifespans generally range around one hundred years in length.

Additional detail and abilities will be added when the wiki article is up.
[/hider]