[Game Thread] Chapter 1 | +ULFBERH+T

[Numen Wraith]

 

Sorry, mountainbound, but Sven was at the bar as the others went upstairs, but he did turn his back on Kjersti, so that's the only bit I'm going to correct.

Sven had already placed his order and was waiting for it to be filled when Orjan's beckoning filled his ears. 'Christian Gods!' he cursed to himself. 'It's like I'm dealing with midwives and wetnurses.' When his ale was delivered he slammed it back in a single glup and pushed the glass back toward the barkeep. "If there's any chance of having eight of those delivered to my room upstairs, you'll be kindly rewarded. If not, the place will probably be in flames by night fall."

Turning around, he trudged back upstairs to find his friends and wondered how a morning that had started so well with Hilda could have gone so poorly. Considering the weight he felt on his shoulders, he wouldn't be surprised if the women heard him stomping up the stairs by the time he got there.

Bursting into the room but stopping at a point filling the doorway, he stared each individual in the face, one by one. "Look," he began. "I know I'm not the most well liked person on this crew. And I don't need to be. I don't care if you like me. But I do need you to trust me. Fionn left earlier today, and when I checked his room, all his stuff was gone. I can only assume he left because of me, and that's fine enough. It's no secret that I didn't like the lad, but I see cracks in other foundations here. I need to know that we're a team."

He singled out Orjan first. "Brother, you and I have fought together enough times that I feel as if I know what your sword is going to do before it does it more often than not. I depend on you to straighten out things between myself and others more than I should. And, well, if it weren't for you, my only friend in the world would be a woman that only loves me for my talents at smoking salmon. If I can't count on you, then I might as well seek out the working end of a noose."

Next, he turned to Savriel. He tried to soften his tone, but he had no idea how to do so intentionally. "Bardess, you've entertained me quiet a bit. It's no secret that we've had our differences, and we've annoyed each other more than any other two people under this roof. But," he gave a long pause as he stared into her eyes. "I also believe that you know that I'll be there for you, no matter what trouble you bring down on our heads. I've never said it, but from now until we die, you must know that I depend on your tongue to work through people's ears like my sword works through flesh. You fill a role that makes my life easier, whether it rustles my feathers or not. I'd prefer you staying with us."

And finally: "Kjersti, he stared at his own feet while he talked to the woman. "I don't know what to do around you. I need your help. You're the only reason I'm alive, and yet, every day you look at me as if you wish I were dead. I don't understand the anger you have toward me, but I'd like to get it out of the way. I'm obviously a failure in your eyes, but I can only guess at why. Every time I speak to you, you shudder as if I've raised a hand. What is there that I can do to earn your trust? What can I do to make you more at ease?"

By the end of his imploring, he was looking Kjersti in the eye, but he also noticed his voice was at a shout and the last five words nearly came as a whisper. He sighed softly to himself and swayed sideways against the door frame. If anyone was looking to leave, they'd have to pass by him awkwardly, but there would be space provided. For all his wounds in battle, Sven looked truly defeated and in more need of healing than when Kjersti had tended to him.

[Digorig]

Current Data Location: Port of Hefn Date: Sunna’s Day, Ostara 14 Time: Noon Weather: Very cold and clouds, low 30’s F

As the four associates finally gathered inside Sav’s room, they each had new information; about the Loki and about Scorn. What they did not have was Fionnlagh and no one knew where the magic user had wandered off too.

[Darkling]

Savriel an Ael'syl Savriel looks about ready to start launching into her explanation, but then comes Sven, a mixture of fervor and empathy. As the man goes off on his words, the bardess listens with an unrivalled intensity, taken aback by such a passionate display from the warrior. It's unexpected, and maybe just a little touching, though she'd never admit that out loud. Still, her brows furrow and a sad look touches her face in response to Sven speaking of Fionn's departure. "He left?" She asks quietly, a little surprised, clearly unhappy about that turn of events. She'd have liked to learn more from the bizarre young man, and indeed thought to go gather him to discuss her discoveries too, but he had lied about his illness in order to escape. 'So much for that.' She thinks silently, inwardly cursing for losing another chance at learning of her witch majicks. Still, Sven's words of approval mean a lot to her, as can be seen by the light in her eyes as he speaks of depending upon her. And that he'd prefer her to stay , even, a thankful set of words to hear. Well, she hopes that holds true when it's finally her turn to speak, but for now a response is in order. "Of course. How could I leave? I trust you too, Sven, I just find it easier to trust when you're not grabbing me by the arm. Old habits, and all that...I'll try to keep any startled shrieks to a minimum in future." The girl speaks wrlyly, but the warmth in her words is there, a genuine appreciation for the man. Fearing he may lack in the skills to pick up on her subtleties, she decides to add... "I'm your skald as long as you both wish for me to stay." The words come more freely, less inhibited by her attempts at humour, and her smile is more honest than playing - though her gaze rests more strongly upon Orjan with what she's said. When he turns his words to Kjersti, however, she rests a hand on the paladin's back to provide a more silent form of support as she glances the Norsewoman's way. She remains silent - normally, she's made a habit of talking on her behalf, but for now Kjersti needs to speak her own words to the men without her interfering or 'translating'. That doesn't mean she has to be absent, however, and commits herself to the woman's side as readily as she would in any battle.

[mountainbound]

Kjersti blanches at Sven's words. "I don't wish... that," she whispers. It's then that she feels the warm reassurance of Savi's hand on her back. It's as though she's able to tap in, for a few moments at least, to the bardess's strength. "You're not a failure to me, Sven. Whatever might have happened between us... I don't know. Fjorgyn sometimes appears, and I disappear. But I don't hate you. I followed you all the way here, and now I need you, and Orjan, and Savi more than ever in this dark place. Fjorgyn has forseen something important that this group must accomplish, and I am here to play my part, whatever it may be. My only wish is..." She gulps, the gift of gab suddenly draining out of her, replaced by her usual meekness. "I will try to obey better," Kjersti finishes lamely, as a child who has just been reprimanded by her father. She folds her small white hands in her lap, averting her gaze from everyone in the room.

[Numen Wraith]

"Obey?" Sven is caught aback. He had intended on thanking Savriel for her dedication, but the paladin's final words dashed any hopes of him remembering his manners. "The only time I expect you to obey is when we're in combat. Outside of that, you're free to do as you please. Gods, woman. I know I intimidate men, and often on purpose, but Tyr help me if I know how to turn it around. This morning, I gave my best show of kindness and..." the barbarian searched his mind for another word, but struggled before failing and spitting out the word as if he could taste it on his tongue. "Ugh... softness. Still, you cower as if I'm threatening you. Just have it out, please. What is it that you wish?"

By that point he was worked up and red in the face, but he caught himself pacing about and sat down, wringing his hands as if trying to find a way to release all the pent up emotions. If he could see himself in the moment, he might understand some of Kjersti's fears, but he still stared at her with an intense look, trying to will some faith and bravery out of her. For a second, his eyes flicked to Orjan for help, but they had a will of their own and returned to Kjersti.

[mountainbound]

Kjersti trembles at the viking's tone, unable to find the words that Sven demanded. What does he expect from me? Yellow hair in her face, she stares down at her hands.

Then suddenly she gives Sven her fiercest look -- it was like a cross between a wounded fawn and an angry rabbit. "Obey... you? Of course!" She laughs... The viking's response was so comically typical for a man. "Of course you would assume I was talking about you. Sven, the only one I obey lives in Valhalla and rides a mountain of fire! You're right though. I'm soft and I'm scared, and it's because I lack faith to obey what she commands..."

With that, Kjersti quiets, and Magnbjorn puts his head on her lap. The wolfhound's dark liquid eyes shift from the paladin to the fighter and back again.

Taking a deep breath and wiping her nose, she begins in a much milder tone. "Now, Orjan, you spoke with Scorn, ja?"

[Numen Wraith]

Sven was right pissed about Kjersti's answer, until he noticed that she was, in essence, doing exactly what he had asked of her by standing up to him. Still, as with Orjan before, reason did little to quell his anger, but it did help reign in his mouth, so he sat in his chair and fumed silently, hoping something would happen to distract him.

[Jeigh]

Orjan Erlandson The veteran nodded his head to Kjersti's query as he was finally coaxed from his steady, deliberate silence. Though he had chosen not to interrupt the exchange of his three companions before, as he was addressed by name, Orjan found himself beginning the conference concerning their next course of action in earnest. Like some giant slumbering titan, the veteran placed his hands on his knees and pushed himself up slowly as he continued to gather himself mentally. It was quiet around him, expectantly so and he appreciated the time choose his words before their next deliberation. Taking a pair of long strides, Orjan crossed the crowded bunkroom and resolutely planted himself next to Sven. Although he'd seen Sven emotionally charged many times before, it was a rarity for the man to ever show or ask for empathy from his companions. To Orjan, the fact that his blood brother had felt the need to say something at all was more than enough to justify a show of support for the warrior. "Before I touch on Scorn, though, let me clarify something." Side-by-side with the younger Viking, Orjan stretched out a hand in a motion that indicated those present, "We," he emphasized, "are a party; a team; a gathering. We," he hammered yet again, "are allies, friends and comrades. Though there may have been feelings of doubt and distrust in our pasts and especially when we first came together, all of that is gone now." The veteran's voice was serious and his thoughts seemed crystalline as he placated the group. "We have fought together, bled together, and damn near died together. And if you don't think that's a good reason to trust one another, then you better start lookin' for some kind of heaven-on-earth." In a gesture of mutual brotherhood, Orjan took a step towards Savriel and Kjersti, doing his best to tug Sven along with him. For a moment he paused and let his companions think before continued, "Trust me when I say we've all got rocky pasts and none of us has had an easy road to hoe. But doesn't that mean we've just got more in common?" "What strength you've got," his eyes flitted to Sven, 'and guile," he adds as his eyes dart to Savy, "and faith are as worthless as the dirt on your boots if you lot aren't willing to trust one another." Despite the content of his speech, the veteran was doing a hell of a job trying to make himself sound brotherly rather than berating. He extended his arms, placing one on Kjersi's shoulder and another on Sven's, then gave each of them a firm clap on the back. "Better," he added for his own reassurance. "Now let's talk about Scorn." Hoping what rifts may have been caused by today's verbal altercation had been fixed, the veteran stepped between Kjersti and Sven and plopped himself down next to Savy. It was nice to have the bardess and her bright shininess back after the long dark afternoon and he almost smiled as he sat down. "I've got good news and bad news," he begins. "The good news is, I've got a few ideas about where the mine might be. From what I gathered from Scorn and the map I bought from Dofar I think we can narrow the search down." Orjan nodded, reassuring himself yet again. "With whatever information you gathered from the temple, I think we may be able to narrow that search even further."

[Digorig]

Current Data Location: Port of Hefn Date: Sunna’s Day, Ostara 14 Time: Noon Weather: Very cold and clouds, low 30’s F

Inside the room, the two couples first worked out – or tried to – some of their issues from earlier. There was little mention of Fionnlagh’s departure and more talk of the roles they each played in the quest. And now, besides the pursuit itself were potentially new matters to either be dealt with or ignored; the loki.

At the end it was Orjan, the brave Viking fighter that gave a unity oration; comradely, strength and faith. Then, after nearly an hour it was down to business, and the business was Scorn. It seemed that he had made the choice of not using his services for the group by his departure. It was not a wash as some information had been useful, if it was true. Orjan also had a map that might help some, yet no mines were marked on it.

Finally he asked what the women had discovered at the temple…

[Darkling]

Savriel an Ael'syl Savriel glances between her allies, not wanting to interject, finding it will mean a lot more to herself and Kjersti if she allows the woman to speak on her own behalf this once. Though the norsewoman's words are somewhat surprising, the halfbreed finds herself satisfied with the way the conversation plays out between her and Sven, though she fights the urge to smile broadly - she'd rather not seem like she's gloating in victory or anything like that to the men. Then, Orjan launches into a rather philosophical discussion, a confirmation of the group's closeness and what they've been through together. It is certainly a warming thought, to think that they'd all fight and die for one another, even if the latter concept is still a bit frightening on its own. As Orjan takes a seat beside her, she rests a hand on his shoulder, a grin coming to her face. "That was very sweet, looks like I'm not the only one with a way around words here, hmm?" The girl's words come softly and kindly, and as the warrior goes into what they've learned from Scorn, she nods a few times. "Ah well, that's certainly better than nothing, friends!" Savriel speaks brightly, pleased her companions have drawn at least that much information, even though her face drops a little when the man asks what she and Kjersti learned at the temple. "Nothing. I thought them too dangerous to question, in case they get curious as to who we are." She says sedately, glancing the norsewoman's way, trying to think how best to phrase what comes next. It could go any number of ways, but frankly, she's not terribly enthused about any of the outcomes. "I learned more when I was speaking to the ladies of the night, you know, they taught me a lot. The Loki Priesthood are...not nice people. They're killers and extortionists, thieves and smugglers, and assassins for hire." The girl hesitates a little, not unsure of herself in the slightest, but perhaps at least a tad bit concerned about the outcome of this little conversation. Then again, with all the warmth and camaraderie that had been shared in such a short time, she supposes it won't be too bad after all. "The tavernkeep tells me that his business, and many others, are being extorted heavily for fear of violence from the clerics and their magic. He has to pay them thirty gold a week for 'protection', and we all know what that translates to, I hope. He asked...on behalf of himself and his suffering friends...that we make the clerics 'disappear'." The last word is rather heavily loaded, though her entire story is one could suppose, and though Savriel is comfortable with any given word, the notion of cold murder is not something she'd call a familiar thought when she's holding the blade. "He said we'd be town heroes. We might get a lot of leverage out of it, and information, maybe even gold and weapons...I didn't give him an answer. Frankly, I don't know what to think, I can kill but I wouldn't call myself a killer - I mean, I suppose we'd just have to make them leave, and that doesn't necessarily mean violence, but...I thought I'd leave it up to you. " She says pointedly towards the two men, though her eyes linger on Orjan, still finding comfort in his ordinarily calm demeanour and his quiet wisdom. If there's anyone that'd know what to do in response to such an offer, it would be Orjan, and the half-elf seems willing to follow that decision wholeheartedly. "Is this something we want to do?" She asks finally, and though the halfbreed is as confident and assured as ever, that brightness of hers has faded for now in the shadow of what she's spoken.

[Numen Wraith]

Sven held his breath while he waited for Kjersti's opinion, but soon he found himself wondering if he just had very little patience or if she just wasn't going to speak up. With a big blustery flop of his lips he blew his lungs out as he revved up. "Do we want to? I hope not. Meddling in the affairs of others and risking our necks, because we want to? That sounds... stupid. Would it pay off? Now, there's the better question. Town heroes and all that goes along with it. There's something to think about. If it aids us along in our quest, then I'm open to the idea."

[Jeigh]

Orjan Erlandson The elder Viking nodded to Savriel and Sven in turn. A giant's arse, he cursed to himself. Though what the bardess had told the group was new information, and pertinent, too, Orjan felt like he had known much of what she'd said all along. Judging from Scorn's character and what he'd heard about other Loki, he'd already made the assumption that something foul was going on in Hefn and it had been bothering him since they first came into port. Rubbing his stubbled chin, Orjan grimaced as a look of considerable consternation shadowed his features. For a few long moments, he pondered and searched for anything to salvage. It was not a quick moment of inspiration that took hold of Orjan, but a long, deep reverie that gave him what clarity he needed. The veteran nodded to himself, approving, then raised his eyes. Twin orbs of steel focused on Sven across the room as he began his dead-pan explanation, "The way I see it, we've got two options now that we won't be hiring Scorn." Letting his gaze wander, Orjan turned his head to the side and addressed Savy and Kjersti with the same seriousness. "Either we start some kind of open confrontation with the Loki," he announced, "or we use some kind of subterfuge to avoid a confrontation." Looking down at his own raiment and blades, he shrugged, yet added, "Though it might take longer and it could still ultimately fail, I say we try to avoid any open conflict if possible. As far as we know, the Loki have an advantage in knowledge of the area, contacts, and number so any direct confrontation would be destined to fail from the start." He chuckled wryly, then shook his head. "Still, we've got to decided if we want to go about uprooting the Trickster's servants or not." A sharp, bark of a laugh escaped him again as he glanced around, "Sounds like fun doesn't it?"

[mountainbound]

Kjersti furrows her brow. It was a lot to consider. She looks down at the shaggy dog at her feet, "I do not wish for the people of Hefn to suffer at the hands of a crazed god. If I can help, I shall, may Fjorgyn aid me. How to make them disappear though?"

In a moment, she follows up on what Orjan was saying, "Subterfuge... it sounds like we're plotting to trick the Trickster. Or maybe bully a bully. Is there something to that? If a real threat -- or at least one that appeared real -- presented itself to the town, would the servants of Loki rise to the challenge, or would they run? If they ran, and the town witnessed their cowardice, perhaps that might break their grip on the people? If only we could get a few giants to put a scare into them." By now she was remembering the old stories, and romantic ideas of reasoning with giants swam in her head.

[Digorig]

Current Data Location: Port of Hefn Date: Sunna’s Day, Ostara 14 Time: Afternoon Weather: Very cold, snowfall, low 30’s F

The group continued their discussion as time continued by and soon it was past noon, the sun headed west to lie down for the night, hidden by the thick clouds. Outside, snow began to fall. Orjan had suggest – or hinted at – an idea, but now they needed a plan.

[Numen Wraith]

Sven started chuckling. It was a strange sound, as he was unaccustomed to making it, and even rarer, he was laughing at his own expense. "Savriel, it looks like you may get your wish after all. You three want to talk Giants into taking care of the clerics? If you had told me this would be our plan a week ago, I would have found a different crew." He looked at the others with a smirk on his lips. "I probably don't need to say so, but the planning is on your hands. Let me know what you need of me."