A salve was swiftly handed to Aliyeh to give to her mother for Avand. Racing to the bedroom her sister was in she gave it to her mother and then was hurried out of the room lest she get sick as well. If Avand didn't recover she would miss the party tonight in her honor. Aliyeh walked past the room her little sister was in and smiled as the child joined her in the hallway and grabbed her hand.

Aysa was almost always smiling. It was in her nature to always be happy. She wasn't terribly bright but she was the most perfect looking child ever born. It was often commented on by mothers with sons in her age group. There would be no trouble gaining a match for her. Glancing down at her Aliyeh turned and took her to the courtyard and set her on the swing there and gave her a push. While Aysa swung Aliyeh sat on the grass and lifted her face to the sky enjoying the sun on her face. After a few moments she felt her stomach rumbling and she pulled out her money and smiled.

"Aysa do you want to go get some pashmak (cotton candy) with me?" Chuckling as her sister skidded to a stop and ran to her to take her hand.

"I love pashmak (cotton candy). If I could eat it at every meal I would! Truly I would!" Aliyeh nodded and laughed at her sister.

"I know you would. Too bad though, if you did your teeth would all fall out."

Aysa grinned with a little conceit, "Maybe, but I'd still be beautiful even if I never smiled so you could see that I had no teeth."

Aliyeh's mouth opened wide with horrified shock at her younger sister's manners. Her eyes a twinkle, she warned her. "If mother hears you speak like that you won't have a backside to sit on for quite a long time." Aysa shrugged in childlike defiance.

Aliyeh walked up to the merchant who sold the pashak (cotton candy) and bought one for her sister and a Baklava (pastry)for herself. Urging her sister to a bench nearby they sat to eat their treats and watch the people as they passed by.

Many people were in the square today. There were warriors that caught her eye for different reasons. The first one that walked by stunk as if he hadn't bathed in a year. She quickly pinched her sister on the arm as Aysa was about to say something undoubtedly rude. It earned her a very angry expression from the child.

"Mind your manners Aysa." She said quietly. When she looked up there was a warrior across the way leering at her and she didn't feel comfortable so she pulled Aysa with her and went to speak with another vendor she knew. While moving out of the view of the warrior ogling her she accidentally bumped into the third warrior. She righted herself with his help before she could fall. When she looked up she blushed. He was very handsome and he had fair hair and a long beard that was managed into a braid.

"Please, excuse me. I-" For a moment she was speechless. She heard her younger sister go to insult the man and she clamped her hand over the child's mouth.

"Aysa! Shhh!" The child struggled against her and she focused on her unruly sister. Picking up the child she turned back to the warrior and said, "I'm so sorry."

Aliyeh quickly carried her sister who was misbehaving, in a very public meltdown at this point back to their mother. She tossed the pashak into the garbage along the way. After handing Aysa to their mother and explaining to her how her sister behaved she went into the family's living room and fell onto the couch putting her head back against the cushion. A few seconds later she heard her sister's backside getting the spanking that she deserved. A slight smile crossed her face.

Her mind reeled. Where had he come from? She didn't remember seeing him before and him she would remember. At the same time she thought about the warrior that was staring at her a bit too much and shuddered slightly. His eyes had just been devoid of kindness and that made them creepy to her. She wondered if she would see the blond warrior at the party that evening and she smiled hopeful.

@ofwindandrain

Wulfric cantered towards the city gates easily and fluidly. There was a small collection of guards standing at the entrance, but he expected little resistance from them; he had been told by those that had returned from Jormundyr’s path that almost no southern settlements refused visitors. Nonetheless, he did expect to be an oddity, as a northlander. For the most part, northlanders tended to look down on the softer southerners.

He was dressed for cold travel. Leather armor made up most of his outfit, from leggings, tunic, armguards, grieves, and boots. However, he did have finely crafted steel armor to cover his shoulders, to act as the outer piece on his armguards and grieves, and on either hip, hanging from the belt that also carried his two throwing axes. No one would be able to strike forearm, shoulder, or hip- places that he might use more often than the rest of his body. On top of his head sat a steel helm, with a fur and leather cap underneath to keep his head warm. The helmet was open-faced, and sat snugly. On top, the recently shed antlers of his caribou mount were worked into the helm, giving him two tall, 2-foot-long 7-point antlers to stick out of his head like some sort of nature spirit. All of it was layered, rather than one giant piece, so that it absorbed the most it could, while not being overly thick or suffocating.

The final part of his ensemble was his cloak- alternatively steel-grey and black, it was the fur of one of the fierciest predators in the north- the belek. The hood was made from the head of the beast, the clasp from its ivory teeth. Anyone who saw the cloak, or the three belek-claw scars on his left cheek, knew that he wasn’t someone to be trifled with.

The antlers had been shaved down from their original size- caribou antlers were too massive to have sitting on your head. The original antlers had been well over five feet long when they finally were shed.

His throwing axes were esquisite, a water-like pattern of slightly blued steel making up the surface of the entire blade on each. Godsteel, it was called, and it was stronger than any southerner steel by a fair margin. Rare, and only found in the mountains- which was why his greatsword, the extra-long double-handed longsword that was sheathed on his back, was only regular northerner steel. His hunting knife was also godsteel, sheathed next to one of his throwing axes on his hip, and he had several more knives hidden on him, stuck inside his boot or the like. Northerners never went anywhere without being armed to the teeth.

His caribou mount was Erling, one of the finest specimens in the northern calvary. At 18 hands (6 feet) tall, he stood a slight bit taller than any large horse, and as big as a warhorse. Because spring had only recently arrived, and caribou shed their antlers in the winter months, there were only stubs on his head. Nonetheless, his black-and-brown coloring made him slightly unique, as did the great white section that rose from the base of his neck all the way up to his ears. It was a coloring and strength that was bred, and something that Wulfric was proud to own.

Trotting up to the guard, he inclined his head to the oldest of them.

“Wolfric Norvegr. I’m-”

The guard sergeant waved his hand, interrupting him. “Save it, Northlander. You can head on in.”

Wulfric frowned at him, but nonetheless kicked Erling, cantering on past and through the gate, perturbed. They didn’t care, really? Ah, well.

Once he passed thorugh the gates, the size of Erling became nothing. There were crowds in the main street, their reason obvious because of the market stalls that were set up on either side, leading straight through the city to the keep in the middle. Ah, the keep- just what he was looking for. Maybe introduce himself to the local ruler, see if there was anything to be gained here.

He dismounted, and took Erling’s reins by hand, leading his friend through the throng. People cursed or muttered angrily at being pushed aside by the northlander, but those mutters ceased when they turned and saw the fiercesome, attractive northlander face peering at them curiously. The weapon on his back and the size of his pack denoting that he was a man of strength and endurance- more than enough to cause any anger to wash away into sudden forgiveness.

Wulfric wasn’t too terribly impressed by these people, but was nonetheless fascinated by all this… culture. He could pick out so many little things- foods he’d never seen, patterns and designs for weapons, clothing, that he’d never be able to imagine. It was a very different land, Wulfric knew, and he was determined to see anything it had to offer him.

He was busy striding through the throng when someone caught his eye- a pretty young woman with hair red as flame. Standing behind a stall of her own, she beamed and waved him over. Intrigued, he dutifully strode over, and she began introducing to him- in their strange southern accent- of all the treats she had to offer! He hadn’t heard of any of it, of course, but it… sounded nice?

“I’ve no coin, merchant.”

He felt… kinda bad about the way her face fell, but there was nothing to be done. He turned to walk away, and instead bumped into a raven-haired lady tugging along what must be her sister. The woman immediately began apologizing- but the sister, and her mouth…

“HAHA! You have spirit, girl, something many of these people seem to lack! Do not apologize, and be on your way. You are forgiven!”

He stared after the two of them as they hurried away, the somewhat odd encounter replaying in his mind.

He wasn’t that ugly, was he? Spirit was good and all, but he thought his nose rather suited his face…

---

An hour’s wandering had found him at an inn. Trading a bundle of wolf hides to a tanner, he had earned himself enough money to afford an inn. His Path mentor had told him about inns and taverns- they gave you alcohol, lodging, and usually stew for low prices. So, he settled into a room, got himself a bath, a bowl of stew, and a bit of mead. Having refreshed himself, a stableboy took care of his caribou- which had to be calmed, because not just anyone could handle a northlander’s steed- and he made his way towards the keep.

He had discarded his greatsword and heavy pack, but he kept his axes, knives, and cloak. Needed to look good for the ruler, after all.

He marched into the keep as if he owned the place, surveying it for defensibility and practicality. It was certainly well-furnished- perhaps the ruler would rather have a palace- but there was a strength and solidity to its walls that appealed to the northern warrior.

A guard blocked his path just inside the first courtyard from the gate. The other guards hadn’t given him any trouble, but this one seemed determined to set him straight.

“A Northlander, then? You all look so… barbaric. Alright, I guess you want to meet with King Montemshaven. Or First, as you northerners call him. Every time, I have to deal with you people…”

The guard- mid-thirties, mayhaps, with paler skin than those outside, and wearing his armor and sword as if they were a great burden to the world, waved him towards the oak double doors on the other side of the courtyard.

“My Lord’s not busy at the moment, and accepting visitors. Straight through there will gain you an audience.”

Wulfric nodded his thanks, and strode past the man to the doorway. Shoving his way through, he strode into a large, long throne room- with the man himself sitting on a chair, up on a dais about four steps above the rest of the floor. As it was, the man probably wasn’t that impressive, but at least he had a strong jawline and stare.

“Wulfric Sundberg, I am, from the settlement Norvegr. I come as a pilgrim on the Path of Jormundyr.”

King Farzan sat on his throne taking visitors and giving advice or help as needed. He was a man of average build and size, still fairly muscled and in decent shape. He was wearing his traditional day robes over pants and a typical shirt threaded in gold with many colorful details on it. Upon his head he wore a smaller crown without jewel adornment.

The king was in his mid forties worrying about his eldest daughter's health and his youngest's manners. Queen Gohan had been spanking their youngest daughter for her mouth when he passed the room she was in. That one was a little hellion he thought as he covered a sly smile with his hand and he nodded at the gift that was delivered of sweets as a woman bowed to him.

Hearing the door open loudly as it slammed into the wall he looked up to see a large blond warrior enter the room. He noticed he was not sporting his biggest and most deadly weapons so he was here peacefully. Farzan smiled and sat up straighter.

“Wulfric Sundberg, I am, from the settlement Norvegr. I come as a pilgrim on the Path of Jormundyr.”

"Welcome Wulfric Sundberg! I am glad to have you here at Montemshaven. I expect you will come to the party tonight in honor of my daughter Avand. It's her twenty first birthday and there will be dancing and food and meed and lots of joy. Please come and celebrate with us."

---

Aliyeh was looking at her clothes for the evening and she was not very happy with her mother's choice. Her mother had chosen the traditional robes that went to the floor. Everything was bright and covered nearly every part of her. She knew her mother would not be happy about her choice, but it was a party and she wanted not to burn up from heat exhaustion. She called her maid.

"Mahta, please put these away I'm going to dance tonight. I'll be wearing the Blue Bedlah instead. Please lay out the jewels to match." Her maid ran to make the changes all the while wondering what the queen would say.

A few moments later Aliyeh sunk into a large brass tub of water and scrubbed herself clean. She couldn't help but remember the warrior with the creepy stare and it sent a warning shiver up her spine. She couldn't help that his stare had made her feel, dirty somehow. Getting out of the brass tub she quickly dried off and began brushing her hair. A few moments later she was dressed.

Aliyeh had chosen the Blue bedlah with the vertical slits down the side of the flowing sapphire blue skirt. It was sewn with golden threads and beading the hip belt was adorned with golden chains slung from one hip to the other both in the front and the back. It would emphasize her shape and it would jingle and tease as she danced. It sat low on her hips leaving her midriff bare to well below her belly button. She thought it was very sexy as she moved in it.

The top was adorned with beads in blue and gold. She wore a choker that was both gold and blue in color but it was only about an inch wide all the way around. She had earrings that dangled about an inch or so lower than her earlobes and they matched it perfectly. After attaching her sheer sleeves that hooked around her middle finger she slipped her blue dancing slippers on and let Mahta finish her makeup.

Aliyeh looked at her image and frowned. Her hair was not right. She pulled it up into a pony tail and fastened it. Next she added the veil that would cover her face. It would be sheer enough to see through on both sides but it kept the convention of being covered if you weren't married. That and her mother had not seen this latest outfit of hers. It was likely she wouldn't recognize her right off til she got close to her.

Standing up and twirling she looked at Mahta and smiled. "This is perfect. For once I get to look the way I want to."

Doing her best to avoid her mother she sent Mahta with messages as needed. Her mother was so busy with her sisters she barely noticed that Aliyeh was avoiding her. People started gathering in the great hall. Food and meed were to be served all night and there was plenty of music. The king and queen were sitting with her sister Avand who was looking very pale to Aliyeh. She was obviously ill but she wanted to be here as the others did. Aliyeh searched the hall for Aysa. She saw her getting into the desert pastries and her eyes caught sight of her mother grabbing the child by the hair and yanking the pastry from her and swatting her on the butt as she maneuvered her to where the rest of them sat.

Mahti delivered a written message to the sickly princess who smiled and looked up at the dance floor. Mahti cued the musicians and the music started. Aliyeh moved out of the corner where she was hiding and slid into the room's middle and began to dance. Her hips moved to the rhythm of the music and when the music became faster so did her hips. The dance had some exaggerated movements to it and she managed them perfectly.

Aliyeh had decided to dance for her sister because she herself had not been well enough to dance in over a year. Out of respect she had kept her dancing practices away from her sister so as not to upset her. They both had been avid dancers and loved it so very much. Aliyeh put all her heart into this dance for Avand. The veil was working quite well as her mother had not figured out who was dancing yet, only Avand knew who it was. After a few minutes a couple more dancers joined Aliyeh on the floor and jumped right in and soon there was a large group of dancers and Aliyeh could mix into the background again. Leaving the back of the group she walked to one of the tables and got something cold to drink. She was careful to not let her veil go up lest her mother figure her out too early.

@ofwindandrain

Wulfric strode into the crowded hall, wary eyes scanning the crowd. They were all annoyingly almost as he was, with only a few exceptions among the women. These southerners are still narrow, though- they don’t have nearly as much muscle as his kin. Tall, slender, most of them.

Wulfric had no dress clothes, and his people didn’t have parties. There were celebrations, but those were more like great drinking contests, gathering around to laugh with friends while eating freshly fired venison or boar. This sort of celebration- filled with fancy clothing and esquisite dancing- was quite outside his realm of experience.

On his head sat his helmet- caribou antlers rising up higher than anyone else in the crowd. The open-faced design of it allowed him to wear it casually, and for that he was greatful. His belek-fur cloak drew admiring stares and envious glances, no matter where he went, but no one paid much attention to his clothing. They were as fine as he had- a simple brown tunic, and his leather leggings (which had extra padding on the inside of his thighs, for riding animals). His leather boots were everpresent, and he had removed all his steel plating for the occasion. What does one do at a party? These people talked lower, more subdued than his kin.

His clothing was as far as he was willing to go with his concessions to the local culture- he still wore all his knives, and his throwing axes. His hair still spilled down from his chin, and from beneath the bottom of his helm.

It did not take long before a scantily clad woman, tall, slender, pale, and redheaded, approached him, a similarly built and appearing man at her shoulder. They were the first of several who wanted to hear his northerner stories.

Ten minutes passed, finding Wulfric to be the center of a dozen or so revelers. He was telling the tale of Brunnhilde, the Valkyrie that lost her status and was cast into a pit of direwolves. His audience? Enraptured, as he told the take with his voice and body.

Aliyeh noticed the many others coming in and she mixed into the crowd a little better. She caught sight of her mother taking Avand back to her room. Sighing she realized her sister was getting worse. She kind of hung back and she listened to the blonde warrior speak about his travels and she found his name to be Wulfric. There was something about him that made her smile. Perhaps it was his lack of fear. She thought for certain one who fights belek wouldn't be afraid of anything a mere mortal man could do.

Slipping further into the crowd a set of hands grazed her waist. When she turned it was that other warrior, the creepy one. Raising her voice she called him something vulgar and shoved him back and Aliyeh moved away from him in the crowd. Finally looking to see where he went and not seeing him at all she sighed, relieved.

A few moments later there was a scream. Aliyeh and everyone else looked to see who was screaming. Aliyeh ran and she caught sight of the creepy warrior running out of her sister's bedroom. "Mama!" Aliyeh ran into the room to see her mother and sister both stabbed and both dead. Aliyeh screamed and then she saw Aysa climb out of a cabinet and she ran to their father as he ran into the room.

King Farzan's anguish was apparent, it was written all over his face. Aliyeh grabbed a spear and went to run out into the hallway but her father grabbed her arm. "NO Aliyeh, You are my heir now. You must not go after him."

"Papa! I saw him! I've seen him three times now! I knew he was bad. I said he was bad and no one listened."

The guards were already after the murderer and those that were left were surrounding the king and his family. Aliyeh kissed her mother and her sister's foreheads and ran from her mother's side. She was going to catch that bastard and she was going to kill him with her own two hands.

King Farzan demanded the warrior Wulfric Sundberg be brought to him immediately. He needed him. Once the warrior was summoned from the party the King spoke to him.

"Wulfric Sundberg I wish to hire you to protect my daughter, my heir ...Aliyeh. She is spirited and she may give you trouble but she is my last hope for our kingdom's future." The King looked exhausted and suddenly like he had just aged twenty five years. "I will pay you handsomely, just keep her safe." He looked at the warrior waiting for an answer.



@OfWindAndRain