Realmshaker: Giant Norse Progression Fantasy LitRPG: Book 1 Read online
REALMSHAKER: GIANT NORSE PROGRESSION FANTASY LITRPG
AJ EPIKOS
Copyright © 2021 AJ Epikos
All rights reserved
The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.
No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the writer and publisher.
This is a big thank you for all the writers supporting me. My Goats. My fellow Dark Tower-loving gunslingers. And the writers of RoyalRoad.
This is also a big thank you to my family who doesn't know I write this type of stuff. One day I'll let them know this is me.
Contents
Title Page
Copyright
Dedication
1. Blindfolded
2. Cosmic Homecoming
3. Giantess, Goblin, Dogs Skirmish
4. Book the truth
5. Star System Basics
6. Weak and Strong Dreamer
7. Goblins and Bombs
8. Having an ambitious companion
9. Alpha Forest Boar fight
10. Savagery and Influence
11. Separate fields of study
12. Craft and Survive
13. Fine-tuning Fire Bomb
14. Dress to Kill
15. Squirrels
16. Message from the Dead
17. Stylish Stone Kill
18. Blood, Fury, Snowfall
19. Mythical Snowstorm
20. Intimate
21. Runemarked
22. The Last Child of Ymirra
23. The Dogs aren’t Dumb
24. Dogged Death Run
25. Glory or happiness
26. Two for one
27. Kobold Expeditionary Force 21 (1)
28. Kobold Expeditionary Force 21 (2)
29. Kobold Expeditionary Force 21 (3)
30. Kobold Expeditionary Force 21 (4)
31. Giant Dragon Defense Fortress Attack (1)
32. Giant Dragon Defense Fortress Attack (2)
33. Giant Dragon Defense Fortress Attack (3)
34. Giant Dragon Defense Fortress Attack (4)
35. Star Dreamer Visitor
36. New Person, New Power
37. Magic and Growth
38. The Ironshield Gauntlet (1)
39. The Ironshield Gauntlet (2)
40. The Ironshield Gauntlet (3)
41. The Ironshield Gauntlet (4)
42. The Ironshield Gauntlet (5)
43. Vengeance or Mercy
44. The Truth
45. Wizard of Chaos
46. The Inheritance
47. Dream Big with your New Friend
48. Rise and Shine Realmshaker
49. When selecting a human
50. Cassandra Richmen
51. Don’t Die, Human!
52. Camping on a Big Rock
53. Crafting on a Big Rock
54. Hunting Moosers 1
55. Hunting Moosers 2
56. Hunting Moosers 3
57. Hunting Moosers 4
59. Hunting Moosers 5
59. Trust your ignorance
60. Creating a Barbaric Rogue
61. The Ironshield Reckoning 1
62. The Ironshield Reckoning 2
63. The Ironshield Reckoning 3
64. The Ironshield Reckoning 4
65. The Ironshield Reckoning 5
66. Hidden Bonus Content 1
67. Hidden Bonus Content 2
68. The Ironshield Reckoning 6
69. Cherry Tree across the Butchers’ Field
70. The First Ultrastar
71. Beautiful Giantess versus Dog Pets 1
72. Beautiful Giantess versus Dog Pets 2
73. To Serve a Noble Giantess
74. Revelations
75. Ruination and Recovery
About The Author
Links to FB Groups
1. Blindfolded
“Rhonda the Realmshaker,” Mother said mockingly. The ranger spun her staff and stalked around me. Fresh powdery snow crunched under her steps. My ears were attuned to the noise of Mother’s movements while I was blindfolded.
Bright morning sunlight filtered through the rags covering my eyes. When Mother orbited in front of me, I saw her tall figure as a shadowy wraith rather than the willowy giantess I knew. She didn’t stop me from using my eyes through the blindfold. I was still disadvantaged by the lack of clear vision, though.
My hands tightened around the axe handle in preparation to block. An attack should come at any moment.
Or not.
Mother was waiting to elevate the suspense, I supposed.
The attempt at mental warfare was noteworthy, but I refused to let apprehension take hold of me. If she were going to wait me out until I gave her an opening she could punish, I would happily give her one on my terms.
“Mother, you’re scaring me,” I whined as pathetically as possible. I shook my hands and dropped my axe, a terrible sin.
“Rhonda!” The ferocious woman kicked up snow behind my right shoulder. I imagined her heart splintering into jagged ice from my blunder. Maybe I could crush her heart further after I thrashed her.
But first, I had to dodge the staff swishing around for my head. It was Mother’s usual starting point when she untwisted a jar of ass-whooping on me.
My body dropped automatically, knowing what to do. I felt the staff’s trailing wind pass overhead, ruffling the strands of my curly marigold-orange hair. Since I was down here, I plucked my axe out of the snow.
I faced around and stepped forward to cut the distance. I swung my axe for Mother’s ribs. The blade was blunted, unlikely to kill anyone. But it would’ve put a dent in Mother’s torso and chop her ego down some. It would’ve been glorious if that came to pass.
Instead of a meaty impact and a painful grunt that I relished to hear, I received a wooden thwack. My axe handle collided with Mother’s staff, the block walling off a quick victory. I stuffed away my disappointment. I smartly rebounded and attacked again.
Be offensive. Be assertive. Be mighty. These were sayings Mother drilled into me throughout my childhood, my young adult years, and as I become an adult now.
When all else failed, be a savage.
It was better to fight with wild fury after the initial plan failed than to think our way through everything. If you were to overthink in a fight, you could freeze up or move too slowly.
I did not favor these beliefs always, but Mother was known as a hero across Brogheimr for a reason. However, I suspected she was more of an evil witch that relished my torment rather than a successful ranger that warded against threats to our chiefdom.
“Harder, wench! Faster!” Mother cackled madly. Her vague shape bobbed away from me. Or veered sharply to the side after another thwacking block.
“I am going harder and faster,” I grunted, whirling my axe around. With every miss, I rolled my wrists and spiraled the weapon through the air to keep up the momentum. If Mother blocked, I try to hook the staff out of the way with the axe head.
No matter the maneuver, Mother continued to evade my attempts to put her in the snow and shut her up.
“It’s difficult to believe you came from between my legs,” she said, “when you attack like you’re made of slop fed to the pigs. Weak!”
“Mother!” I gasped sharply before letting out an angry growl. If she wanted to taunt, then two could
play at this game. “Father told me how you begged for my birth to end. You blabbered like a little baby. Pathetic!”
I knew better than to attack once the insult slipped my lips. A total retreat wouldn’t be wise, either, since it would be more detrimental to give Mother the offensive while blindfolded. I settled with taking a step back to be on the safe side. Should allow me a chance to dodge, breathe, then continue pressing the offensive.
The blotted figure that was Mother lunged to meet me intimately, which was strange. She had the longer weapon, so why would she come in close?
I shoved at her to defend against her charge.
Mother stuffed my shove and weaved the staff behind my knee. She rammed her shoulder into me and leveraged her weapon between my legs.
Oh, that was why.
My butt hit the snow and then the soggy grass underneath. I was not a portly figure like Father, but I was considerably thicker than my wiry mother. I had heft to me, so my landings had an impact.
If someone mentioned that they felt the realm shake, I wouldn’t venomously accuse them of promoting Father’s running gag. My name, Realmshaker, an implication tied to my heft despite being in greater shape than Father and other giants. With a hard fall I had suffered, even I would believe the realm was shaking!
“You hesitated,” Mother said.
I winced. “I know.”
Mother dragged in air.
I flopped backward, sighing contently with the momentary respite as Mother scolded me. This was the best time to relax—when Mother fell in love with hearing herself instruct what I already knew.
I wish I could relax even more than this. But if I was not with Mother, I was with my Father’s scholars who schooled me on multiple subjects. Later today, I was supposed to revisit war history regarding the First Ultimate War. It had involved my paternal great great great grandfather, who helped sign the current treaty between giants and fae and dragons. The lesson would be interesting enough, but not as interesting as the event that should come before it.
It should be close to lunchtime now. My stomach gurgled with anticipation of devouring more food.
This morning’s breakfast of whole roasted, honey-glazed hogs was scrumptious! The milk I guzzled as a chaser was thick and creamy, too. I desperately wanted more of the hog and milk, but I reasoned something different would arrive on a platter for me to devour next.
After all, I was the daughter of Lord Rogof and Lady Skadya. The cooks knew to vary their offerings to feed the appetite of a growing noble giantess such as myself.
“You’re not listening.” Mother’s voice cut into me like a frozen sword.
“Be offensive. Be assertive. Be mighty. When all else failed, be a savage.”
I fell silent and held my breath.
“Yes, exactly.” Mother hummed. “Although, I’m not seeing you produce enough savagery. Do you understand?”
Yes, I did. I hadn’t rushed forward the moment I knocked my handle against her staff and stomped her foot. I hadn’t aimed a kick to her groin or thrown snow in her face. I hadn’t even attempted to bite her when she got so close.
Mother’s way of savagery was brutal! And I knew this, but that didn’t mean I wanted to use it on Mother. She talked about it a lot, but she had never kicked my groin nor bit my ear. She had other ways of making me cry that were less brutal.
“Rhonda, do you or do you not understand?”
I shook my head, wetting my hair in the snow. Logotha was going to give me a mouthful for messing up my hair, which was going to be thrilling. The human servant was at her cutest when she got all fussy.
Mother sat down next to me. I nearly flinched. Nearly. I was undoubtedly letting my guard down in this unrefined and supine pose I was in, but I knew Mother responded harshly to uncontrolled reactions. Like a flinch.
I once pointed out how contradictory her training methods were for integrating berserk fighting with strict posturing. She had accepted the criticism graciously. Then she took me to her favorite whoop-my-ass field, such as the one we were resting in now.
I was wearing light pelts since the warmer months were around the corner. Mother wore a simple wool shirt and trousers. Her feet were bare, and despite the blindfold, I could envision her kneading her toes in the snow like a younger giantess.
The cold had little effect on us both. Mother was a frost giantess, and they loved the cold. I was half of her, although I hadn’t been born with her powers. Nor had I been born with Father’s fiery elemental abilities. I lacked in that regard my own element, but I didn’t like to think about it. I enjoyed the benefit of enduring the cold just fine, which contrasted the little human trudging over to us from the treeline. She was clearly cold.
My blindfold was still on for some reason. I hadn’t cared to take it off yet. It remained as Mother spoke.
“Rhonda the Realmshaker,” she said haughtily. “I don’t know much about shaking the realm. But you certainly shook my womb on your way out.”
“I see you’re in a teasing mood this morning, Mother.”
“You’re finally becoming an adult woman,” she replied. Her fingers pinched my cheek and pulled playfully. “Even with the baby fat.”
“This baby-fat woman is a maiden with many suitors to choose from.”
There were plenty of male warriors of some renown inside and outside of my parents’ chiefdom. When I wanted to get out and move about, I made up the excuse that I was studying the people that swore fealty to my family—the people I was supposed to rule one day, somehow. My parents ate that up. In truth, I merely wanted attention from others who weren’t old, although I didn’t want to make friends necessarily.
It was nice to… er… shake things up?
Ugh.
Regardless of my breaks away from my studies and training, it was nice to know I was attractive and I could parade my beauty around. Father gave me his rare dark skin and my body’s natural inclination to be curvy. Mother gave me her full lips and crystalline blue gaze. Yes, being a ferocious, bloodthirsty ranger was important. But it was fun making young giants trip over themselves with a flutter of my eyelashes and a smile.
I giggled. “I’ll have a strong warrior who could do all the work for me, Mother. Then I’ll lounge all day and snack and enjoy myself.”
Mother snorted derisively. I lost my smile and tensed for a cutting slander. The silence stretched, and my heart skipped a little faster.
“It would be nice if you were afforded such a luxury, my child,” Mother said. “It is my duty to make a fighter out of you. Just in case. But I’ll be glad if you were able to live the rest of your life safe and happy.”
Huh?
Her fingers combed through my hair, and my chest quivered in response.
This was strange.
Mother rarely showed such soft affection. We should be on our feet again, drilling her lessons even if they didn’t always stick with me. For years I’ve tried to be a ranger like Mother, but I had a different character compared to her.
Laziness did not make an excellent ranger.
So when my shock faded and her hand remained nestled in my hair, I took a risk. I leaned into her hand. It emanated a cold aura, but past that was a little warmth. Mother cupped my face with her hand and held me there.
It was lovely. Strange, but lovely.
“I believe Logotha is waiting,” Mother said, pulling her hand away.
I swallowed a moan of protest. I feared being pulled into a more punishing training session if I protested. Besides, I sensed Mother was letting me off earlier than usual. I knew it wasn’t lunch, which left me with time to relax with my bestest servant.
I stood and wiped off chunks of snow that clung to my pelt. My hands found Logotha next, a knee-high creature, and hoisted her into a seat in the crook of my arm. Most humans didn’t like being carried like this, but Logotha was my human.
“I wish I can endure the cold like you, Lady Skadya,” Logotha said with a slight stammer. “I’m all layered, yet I stil
l freeze.”
The frost giantess heroine, Skadya the Icespear, laughed. She sounded like a soft breeze through a mountain pass when she found her good mood.
I was still wearing my blindfold, yet I could see and imagine Mother reclining back fully. She was putting her ankle up on a knee, toes flexing at the chilled air.
Why was she acting so relaxed? It was bizarre.
“Let my daughter warm you up,” Skadya said. “She’s half her father, after all. Sometimes that’s the better half.”
“He is when you’re not motherly,” I said to get a rise out of her. She was being weird, and it bothered me. Where was Mother’s icy edge?
“I tried to be. I truly tried to be a mother. I hope you can forgive me for failing you.” Mother sighed. “Now go on, you two.”
Huh. That was… um. That was not what I expected.
Puzzled, I started to make my way toward the manor. A strange apprehension came over me and stopped me in my tracks. It was a terrible niggling sensation. Ignoring it would be the adult thing to do, but I could be a sensitive young giantess sometimes. I couldn’t shake this bad feeling easily.
I hoped Mother shared the sentiment when I returned to her and knelt to hug her. It might’ve been uncomfortable for Logotha. She was pinned between two giantesses, but she did not complain.
The embrace smothered away my foreboding. Only then did I let Mother be and make my way home. A well-trodden trail snaked around the hillocks and farms and reached my family’s manor and the village surrounding it. While I took it, Logotha complained greatly.
“I’ll have to clean, dry, and brush your hair again,” she grumbled.
“Pity that my lovely Logotha is working harder to maintain my gorgeousness.”
“Did I do something to earn your scorn, Lady Rhonda?”
“I don’t know what you mean, dear.”
“Am I allowed to speak openly?”
Now Logotha was being silly. We had broken decorum already when I picked her up like a doll.
“I’ll allow it,” I said coolly.
“Your room is more a cove for beasts than a woman who is available to be paired with a respectable giant. There are carts for your undergarments so I could haul and clean them for you, but you routinely leave these garments on the floor. The scholars are pestering me over your studies since you barely passed your last exams. And now your hair is wet and dirty, and you know how your curls tangle like brambles!”