An Arsenal Not of Frost

[u/The_Unkowable_]

– Within the Depths of Artemis’ Lair –

It had been some time since she’d last fought by hand. Several lifetimes, in fact. Admittedly, she was effectively merely counting her own deaths, but Artemis felt that it was… a sufficient method of keeping time. Combat in mortal form simply had never come up since the days where she pretended to be other than she was.

 

Yet here she was, reverting to old habits. To pre-Vulkan habits. Idly, she wondered if it might have something to do with the touch of Chronosepsis – the draconic god of Death and the Void – but such ideas were foolish. She’d gone into that fight in mortal form, after all, not reverted to fighting in that manner after her encounter.

 

….Her encounter. With a divine being she’d previously refused to admit the existence of. Until her father forcibly connected their minds in a moment of need. She still wasn’t sure how to feel about that. Sure, she’d been wielding the Nothing At All / All That Is Not at the time, the Void and Cold antithesis to the All That Is, the Gleaming Frost to the Lightless Flame. And sure, Chronosepsis was by far the best teacher that’s still in existence regarding such matters.

 

But Paladine had not saved her Himself. He could’ve, she was certain. But he hadn’t. Perhaps he didn’t see the need, or elsewise felt that this opportunity was better. Her vulnerability to lightning was a problem, after all. Nullifying the concept of electrocution had saved her in the short term, but it had faded immediately after the battle, and she wasn’t certain she could call it again. So why?

 

Perhaps it is better to have such things remain unknown. Perhaps one must simply not question the minds of the Gods, even should one be His daughter. And the Head of the Metallic Church. Perhaps it is for the best that one does not always get what one desires, so as to keep one humble before thy Lord. Best in all cases to never be so bold as was the High Priest of Istar.

 

….Or, perhaps, He wished for her to meet Chronosepsis. The latter had immersed her in a wealth of knowledge regarding the NAA. And she now knew that there is one other whom shares in her power. One other whom poses a possible threat. The other wretched Warlock of the Nothing At All. Even if she wasn’t yet a Warlock of it herself, she certainly was not going to grant Arthur Black’s scion the courtesy of a singular title. No matter. She would work out the secrets of the NAA in her own time.

 

Now, however, she had other matters at hand. Such as her Armament. Scattered about her lair and buried under much of her hoard were several relics of great importance to her. Also, one relic which she had recently finished repairing after a nasty lightning bomb trick. Amid the nigh-endless variety of powerful items, trinkets, curiosities, and oddities, was many, many sets of armor. And several weapons. And an assortment of enchanted jewelry, among other things. Much of the dragon-armor is of the age of the Dyad. A great deal of time was spent there crafting armor for herself, Vulkan, and the dragons under their command. Protection against explosions and explosives of all kinds was the goal.

 

She’d needed, of course, to go the extra mile. It was little more effort to make them nigh-impossible to lasting damage for any length of time. It was equally little effort to grant them a minor warding property, akin to the fields she applies upon herself. Both were worthy additions, considering she was in the business of ensuring that even should the wearer be cursed to implode with force of Cold, still would it be nullified. After all, simply protecting against gunpowder and pieces of paper with “I prepared Explosive Runes this morning” written on them was meaningless for a red dragon.

 

She’d kept roughly seven of the sets, one or two of them in progress, and one or two more needing repairs. Vulkan had at least five more. The rest…? Buried somewhere, under some collapsed mountain or other. No matter. The artifacts she was after were not these, though she would take the time to equip her personal set. It was far more stylized, and had a good deal more in the way of wardings and runic protections.

 

But the items she sought at this time were not those. No, they were of a much older age. Her personal set of battle-gear. For mortal form only, unfortunately. 

 

Frostbite, her hand-and-a-half bastard sword. A vicious weapon when last she wielded it, in defense of the Council during the Third Great Wizarding War. This was a blade that could not dull. This was, equally, a blade that could shear through thick steel and thin string with equal ease. This was a blade that could not snap, could not break. A blade that ignored temperature conditions.

A blade that could conjure storms of Ice and Frost.

A blade that could, if lucky, temporarily sever the threads of magic from a Weaving.

A blade that can sever the silver string that tethers a visitor to the Astral to their mortal shell.

A blade that would shield its wielder from the worst of sensory inputs.

A blade that knew its owner and would not be parted from her.

 

Her blast-proof circlet. Imbued with all the same things that went into the dragon-armor, and significantly less annoying to carry around, given that it’s a simple rune-marked silver band that fits snugly about her brow, resting just above her eyebrows.

Protection from explosions, of all kinds, regardless of wordplay or attempts to argue that implosions or cold explosions or sudden explosive bursts that turn something into a grenade aren’t explosions.

Doesn’t quite work perfectly. It seems more intent on ensuring that whatever is wearing it doesn’t explode rather than protecting it from damage done by other things exploding.

 

Her armored dress. Equipped with many subtle slots for a truly incredible amount of armor plating, each piece held enough defensive power that it would take her strongest foes a few moments to pierce them. Of course, by that time, the plates will burst and shatter, destroying themselves under the damage and pressure. Single use, those. But she had backups and spares in spades. Expensive to make more of, though.

The dress fabric itself was also rather heavily enchanted. Durability and self-repair and some minor levels of global protection against things. It would serve against hot coals and sucker punches, but not much more.

 

Her armored gauntlets. Silver with platinum detailing, as all her gear. Each finger, however, ended in a sharp and pointed claw. She could easily carve smiley faces into relatively thin titanium doors with these. Nigh-indestructible and rune-carved, as all her equipment. She really did hate to have to re-make things. Part of it, she supposed, was also due to her infinite lifespan – investing in things one can use a few millennium later is a must.

Some of the runes were for defense. Some were for offense. Like being able to wreath them in frost without much in the way of energy usage, so that she wouldn’t tire herself out doing that. Or being able to use her normal strength in them, and so be able to ball up and crumple most any material, including but not limited to dense adamantine cubes.

 

Her armored greaves and armored boots. Much the same as the gauntlets, these, though a tad more defensive than offensive. Other than the heel spikes. The spikes below the toes were there for grip purposes, and can be retracted when need be. The soles of the boots are actually also padded and cloth-plated, so as to remain silent when walking about. The tiny little series of holes near the toes is for the spikes. Obviously.

 

All in all, a good set of equipment to have access to. Or, well, to wear. Since that’s why she dug it all up. To wear it all, in perpetuity. It’ll all be there whenever she shifts to mortal form, much like the dragon armor will be there when she shifts back to her main combat form. Which is also just her standard form. She just likes that level of size. It’s actually reasonable. She will take no further questions about that. Not that anyone could get here to ask her a question. Too much in the way of defenses. And no, that’s not an invitation to try, random mystery person who doesn’t even exist, you’d just get yourself either concussed and fully outside or partially inside and very dead.  

 

Regardless, Artemis will be ready for the wars to come.

[u/AtrioxCalamity]

/uw was this inspired by a certain ring?

[u/The_Unkowable_ → u/AtrioxCalamity]

/uw I mean, this sword’s been kicking around for a while, but your ring was definitely the inspiration to actually finally make an equipment post lol

[u/Complex_Drawer_4710]

/uw Stuff, stuff, and more stuff. Almost left it. but something I'm happy to have read. (counter-trickery go brrr)