[center][color=3cb371][h1][color=008000]U[/color]lfhild [color=008000]U[/color]lven[/h1][/color][/center]
[center][hr][b]Interacting with:[/b] Self [@Salsa Verde]
[b]Opportunity:[/b] Eskand-aligned Players – Meeting up with Ulfhild in the advancement of the horde, on the rear of Thorunn Silverhair. Possibly looking for hostages to take as spoils of war.[hr]
[b]Event:[/b] Siege of Relouse [b]Location:[/b] Parrench Camps[hr][/center]
[indent]
[color=gray]It was over as quick as it began. The man from Parrench, rugged in appearance and grizzly in combat had met his match. Perhaps this is how Eleanor felt when she smacked Ulfhild down. Except there was no kindness from her, her blood still ran hot from the previous battle. It did make her contemplate however, just how quickly the twist of fate could be spread to someone else like some airborne infection. He sprung her trap and had gotten lost in his arrogance or rush to assist in taking down the nashorn. Either way her arrows pierced the horse and the man bringing both down to a tumultuous end, that was if he had not received medical attention by the end of this godforsaken battle. The murder of a steed was never an easy one, but if their God was anything like hers, he would see the horse in the next life. [color=3cb371][i]“You fought well”[/i][/color] she said aloud, most likely not near enough for the man to hear her high praise. 

Alas, she could not dawdle any longer for she had to reach Olaf in his match against his opponent. As one of the Aeresvaktr, she knew he could hold his own, after all they were the stuff of legends. Bow in hand she sprinted up the hill leading further into the carnage. The sky swelled and looking up she could see a massive mushroom cloud releasing a shockwave that turned to a gale which threatened to knock her on her ass. Getting her legs set once more she summited the hill and glanced down at the cause of the sea of water below. A massive man quite heftily built, clad in armor and adjacent to him Olaf, neither moving. Ulfhild feared the worst and ran down the hill only for it to turn slick with mud from the terrain change. Impede her not, for she slid all the way down until she was meters away from the two. 

[color=3cb371]“Olaf! Olaf!” [/color]

She howled into the wind. Arriving at his corpse her knees buckled and she fell down to his side. Tears felt hot on her skin as they rolled down in streams across her face. She enveloped his lifeless hand in her and help it up. [color=3cb371]“No, no, no. We should have stayed together you stubborn mule. You needed the healing more than I”[/color] but her words fell on deaf ears knowing the old shaman was already at the table with the visitor and the friends he had outlived. Crossing his arms together across his chest with his weapon in hand she would leave him until he could be buried later. Her tears stopped, her hands balling into fists now. She stood up and ran over to the giant who had been unconscious after what seemed to have been devastating blows dealt from Olaf. She knew he would not go down so easily, it was now on her to finish what he started. Like a rabid wolf she bore her fangs in anger, kicking the lump of a man over, assisted by force magic of course, and drew her blade to his throat. 

That’s when she heard Eleanor’s voice in her head telling her to yield. Her hands hesitated in that moment, refusing to plunge the sword into the mans throat. There was no honor in killing a man unable to fight back. Just as Eleanor had spared her life she would honor the same with this man. Much to her disdain she tried and tried again to push past it and steal the life from him for what he had done. Yet time and time again her hands trembled and remained frozen. With a curse and a spat she jerked her head away and sheathed her blade. The best she could do was warn the unconscious man, [color=3cb371]“You’ll see me again, I’ll make sure of it, [i]Parrench dog[/i].”[/color]

Looking around she knew not where Hildr had run off to. Probably given chase to that knight she had history with. It had been quite the minute since the two of them had met over something other than battle and it felt that it would be another minute before the two were able to meet again. Instead, Ulfhild decided to follow the flood of Eskandr forces storming the rest of the battlefield in what seemed to be turning in their favor. A loud cry and upheaval of power could be heard and felt by Ulfhild. Her ears as sensitive as ever lent her the direction in which it had transpired. Breaking from the herd she chased down the source of the cry and was graced with the vision of Thorunn Silverhair in all her might. Like a small child watching their heroes before them, she reverted into a girl of yore and watched her hero ravage the Parrench forces. Unbelievable that she was able to withstand the force of three opponents and crush them without so much a sweat. Surely she could best the Queen. Someday Ulfhild hoped she would reach her level. 

Dolls they were, swallowed up by the force of Thorunn and tossed about like playthings with no weight. There was only one left standing in her way, but soon he would be another in the pile of corpses. That was until she was engulfed in a box of darkness. This time there was no battle cry just a cry of fear and anxiety. The three made their escape while Thorunn crushed the earth beneath her. Ulfhild rose to help her but quickly stopped knowing in her thrashing, Ulfhild would only be a hindrance and lose her life. Acting as though she had not witnessed Thorunn in the thralls of despair, she waited, and then joined her fearless leader and their advance onto Parrench grounds. [/color][/indent]