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How's everyone doing? I went to the beach for a day trip on Monday, had my first jellyfish sting experience. That was wild.
I'm working on some shit before the weekend, hope to get posts up between now and then.
Did anyone pee on the sting?
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Did anyone pee on the sting?
The battle was won, but not the war. Eskand soldiers pressed on to the fertile lands despite being unable to siege the walls of the Parrench city. Many a man ran past here paying her no mind as she stood there, stalwart in position. It wasn’t that she couldn’t move, rather she did not want to. Embers whisked past her face whilst she drank it all in. She had lost her brothers, almost died to the hand of a warrior queen, and laid waste to mean a Parrench soldier, even one feral knight. Finally taking the vivid scene around her she pressed on in a slow stroll towards the villages they had now taken for their own.
Now within the camp and the great hall they managed to muster together she sought out those she came with on ship. Hrothgar, Kol, and Vali were whom came to mind first, perhaps even Hildr if she desired to. Flashbacks of the great feast and her search for Hrothgar from the night before the raid felt eerily similar to how she felt now. A knock was heard on the oak wood door before she let herself in. “Jarl Hrothgar, it’s good to see you still live.”
“Hah,” barked the king of kings. “I guess I take a demotion for Mother’s favour, huh?” He clasped her hand and clapped her on the shoulder. “It is good to see you well, Ulfhild, good indeed.” He released her and shook his head tightly, brushing over towards the tactical map in his great tent and motioning for her to follow. “Too many were eager for their seats at the Visitor’s table, and they earned them, like your brothers, I hear.” He bowed his head momentarily in congratulations and condolence. “I cannot deny them their reward, but I wish they’d stayed around a bit longer. We could have used them.”
Gathered there were others: eminent figures, most of them: heroes, legends, the mighty. He gave them a moment to address her should they have so wished.
Kol stood among the many figures who had covered themselves in glory. He had finally healed from his many wounds and knew talks were to come. Now he is out of his war gear and into his more lighty wears, pelts, hides, and his large cloak, as many either took to similar fashions or made themselves more regal. Yet when Hrothgar made notice of Ulfhild, a smile came upon Kol’s face to see one of his own had made it through the battle. He was able to see another of his closer friends back from the fight, as when given the moment, Kol made his way to her and said with a booming voice, ”Ulfhild!”. Kol took the much smaller woman into his embrace; he held it for a moment before he let go and placed his hand upon her shoulder as he continued, ”I’m joyed to see you’ve made it here well”. Kol knew of her family, of her brothers who have met their end, and Kol knew of her pain, yet he could not mend it through words, it was not something easy to mend. Yet he would wish not to dwell on it, as hopefully through his actions and his friendship he may lighten the burden.
Festivities were all around her, celebrating the recent victory with cups and horns of ale. The heartwarming sight was being viewed by someone who had refused to take off their armor yet, scoffing. “You’re still the same, aren’t you, old friend?” Hildr would take off her helmet, now clearly showing her golden blond hair. Her expression showed a conflicted smile. “And then this is little Ulfhild? It’s been a couple years so my face would probably not be that familiar.”
“Ah, yes!” announced Hrothgar, “this is she, though it has been some time since we could rightly call her ‘little’.” Many people here were eager to celebrate as if they’d won a victory. In truth, he knew, it was not. The king of kings cleared his throat and raised his hands. “My friends,” he began, his voice quiet but cutting right through what noise remained. “Soon, there will be much talk of strategy, and even tactics. We have made landfall in Parrence and these weak people of the Greenlands were unable to repel us, despite their great advantage in numbers and resources. First, though, let us remember the lives of our brothers and sisters well-lived, who have gone to Gestur’s table. Most especially, those among the Aeresvaktr who were our closest friends and allies: To Olaf, Hrolf, and Horik! Skoll!”
They toasted the dead, and Hrothgar played his part, spilling some mead out on the ground for them. “But now, we must speak of other joyous matters.” He nodded and took another sip from his ale horn. “Ulfhild, of whatever little village you’re from.” He paused and smiled cheekily. “I have discussed this matter with my friend Kol of Sturmreef and he has vouched for you skills.” Momentarily, he met the underking’s eyes. “Step forward with him and be received into the group of Ten. May you live our virtues, stand firm in and out of battle, and die, someday with honour.” He unsheathed his sword for the ceremony.
Kol saw a face he has missed for far too long, as Kol went and gave Hildr a hug as he laughed. Yet the festivities continued as they talked, toasted the dead, and talked of new things. One of the newest comes from the conversations Kol held with Hrothgar, Kol believed Ulfhild was something of a special talent who might do well with the position among the Aeresvaktr. As when Kol looked towards Ulfhild, he gave her a nod and smile. Kol stood up and went to stand next to Ulfhild as he looked to her and said, ”Ready?”
“If only you had sister’s blessing, then you truly would have been unstoppable” Ulfhild said in jest, although she did wonder if she should ask him on how to combat a Queen seeing as he was a King. There were perhaps better times for that conversation. His hand was rough, but surprisingly gentle. Years of war and training left his palms scarred once, twice, thrice over with callouses. “It’s good to see you as well in good health and spirits” she acquiesced to following him toward the map. She paused for a moment, a tinge of sadness coursing through her at the thought of her lost brethren. “Alas, they achieved what they sought and did it valiantly” his words were surprisingly tender, “I do too, but we shall see them in due time once again.”
Lifting her head she was greeted by the embrace of what could have been a bear not long for hibernation given the size and stature of the man. Her arms were pinned to her side and as warm as the embrace was, her bones could hardly muster his grip. “You as well, I thought I lost you once you made way for the forest.” Gathering new air in her lungs she was greeted by yet another, “The years matter not, this little wolf had been following you since the start of battle. Seemed the Parrench did not want me to intervene” accepting that both the King and Hildr would always see her as she once was.
Ulfhild grabbed the nearest horn she could find and toasted to the memory of not just her kin, but those of the Aeresvaktr, for even the most legendary heroes must ascend someday. She took a swig of her mead before choking on it thereafter. Her eyes shot at Kol as her cheeks became flush. “Me?” She pointed at herself, seeing the other nod. It seemed as though her dream of being in league with Thorunn was becoming more of a reality than not. She ditched her horn and stepped forward to receive her invitation to the group of ten. “Ready” she said triumphantly.
Hrothgar’s sword settled upon first her left shoulder and then her right and he spoke the sacred words. His expression beatific and his hand steady, he drew the tip of the sword across her bare skin where he found it and drew a trickle of blood. “Let this represent the blood you will shed in service of your king and your gods. Let it be the enemy’s in great measure, and yours only as needed.” He cleaned the sword and sheathed it. “Arise, Ulfhild of Ulven: Tenth among the Aeresvaktr, and drink of this cup.” He held a great horn towards her, which was richly embellished in silver and gold and inscribed with ancient runes. “Into it, a drop of blood: the iron of your loyalty, the fire of your soul.” His gaze was intense. “Drink now!” he commanded, and others echoed his call.
Had the initiation not already been an out of body experience it would be now with the imbibing of the Ornskyr contained inside the mead. Swallowing it down she could feel a euphoric feel wash over her. Her physical body only slightly tethering her to the physical world. She could see those of the ten that fell in this battle behind her King welcoming her in and those before them behind them. Only the throbbing of the site of her fresh wound pulled her back. Ulfhild lowered her head, becoming whole again, brushing any extra from the sides of her mouth with a smile. She let out a howl solidifying the moment that would bring her and everyone she knew great honor.
“Good!” called Hrothgar, with a backslapping hug. He took the horn from her. “I embrace you.” He enfolded her in his arms and planted a small kiss on each cheek. “You go now as my hand and with my protection.” There was time yet for feasting, drink, and laughter, but soon enough began the planning. Kol, Vali, and some others were dispatched to Meldheim with the King’s official words on the battle, a Kressian named Dietrich was sent as part of an embassy, and the other two new members of the Aeresvaktr were to be inducted, welcomed by Kol, as only kings were granted that privilege. Thorunn was to return, shortly, to Hegelich for her coronation, and the remaining Aeresvaktr split between the five armies that would divide to pillage the Parrench countryside. Amid it all, the essential question was put to Ulfhild: where would she be going?
As much as she’d like to go home, she had to finish what she started.
Now within the camp and the great hall they managed to muster together she sought out those she came with on ship. Hrothgar, Kol, and Vali were whom came to mind first, perhaps even Hildr if she desired to. Flashbacks of the great feast and her search for Hrothgar from the night before the raid felt eerily similar to how she felt now. A knock was heard on the oak wood door before she let herself in. “Jarl Hrothgar, it’s good to see you still live.”
“Hah,” barked the king of kings. “I guess I take a demotion for Mother’s favour, huh?” He clasped her hand and clapped her on the shoulder. “It is good to see you well, Ulfhild, good indeed.” He released her and shook his head tightly, brushing over towards the tactical map in his great tent and motioning for her to follow. “Too many were eager for their seats at the Visitor’s table, and they earned them, like your brothers, I hear.” He bowed his head momentarily in congratulations and condolence. “I cannot deny them their reward, but I wish they’d stayed around a bit longer. We could have used them.”
Gathered there were others: eminent figures, most of them: heroes, legends, the mighty. He gave them a moment to address her should they have so wished.
Kol stood among the many figures who had covered themselves in glory. He had finally healed from his many wounds and knew talks were to come. Now he is out of his war gear and into his more lighty wears, pelts, hides, and his large cloak, as many either took to similar fashions or made themselves more regal. Yet when Hrothgar made notice of Ulfhild, a smile came upon Kol’s face to see one of his own had made it through the battle. He was able to see another of his closer friends back from the fight, as when given the moment, Kol made his way to her and said with a booming voice, ”Ulfhild!”. Kol took the much smaller woman into his embrace; he held it for a moment before he let go and placed his hand upon her shoulder as he continued, ”I’m joyed to see you’ve made it here well”. Kol knew of her family, of her brothers who have met their end, and Kol knew of her pain, yet he could not mend it through words, it was not something easy to mend. Yet he would wish not to dwell on it, as hopefully through his actions and his friendship he may lighten the burden.
Festivities were all around her, celebrating the recent victory with cups and horns of ale. The heartwarming sight was being viewed by someone who had refused to take off their armor yet, scoffing. “You’re still the same, aren’t you, old friend?” Hildr would take off her helmet, now clearly showing her golden blond hair. Her expression showed a conflicted smile. “And then this is little Ulfhild? It’s been a couple years so my face would probably not be that familiar.”
“Ah, yes!” announced Hrothgar, “this is she, though it has been some time since we could rightly call her ‘little’.” Many people here were eager to celebrate as if they’d won a victory. In truth, he knew, it was not. The king of kings cleared his throat and raised his hands. “My friends,” he began, his voice quiet but cutting right through what noise remained. “Soon, there will be much talk of strategy, and even tactics. We have made landfall in Parrence and these weak people of the Greenlands were unable to repel us, despite their great advantage in numbers and resources. First, though, let us remember the lives of our brothers and sisters well-lived, who have gone to Gestur’s table. Most especially, those among the Aeresvaktr who were our closest friends and allies: To Olaf, Hrolf, and Horik! Skoll!”
They toasted the dead, and Hrothgar played his part, spilling some mead out on the ground for them. “But now, we must speak of other joyous matters.” He nodded and took another sip from his ale horn. “Ulfhild, of whatever little village you’re from.” He paused and smiled cheekily. “I have discussed this matter with my friend Kol of Sturmreef and he has vouched for you skills.” Momentarily, he met the underking’s eyes. “Step forward with him and be received into the group of Ten. May you live our virtues, stand firm in and out of battle, and die, someday with honour.” He unsheathed his sword for the ceremony.
Kol saw a face he has missed for far too long, as Kol went and gave Hildr a hug as he laughed. Yet the festivities continued as they talked, toasted the dead, and talked of new things. One of the newest comes from the conversations Kol held with Hrothgar, Kol believed Ulfhild was something of a special talent who might do well with the position among the Aeresvaktr. As when Kol looked towards Ulfhild, he gave her a nod and smile. Kol stood up and went to stand next to Ulfhild as he looked to her and said, ”Ready?”
“If only you had sister’s blessing, then you truly would have been unstoppable” Ulfhild said in jest, although she did wonder if she should ask him on how to combat a Queen seeing as he was a King. There were perhaps better times for that conversation. His hand was rough, but surprisingly gentle. Years of war and training left his palms scarred once, twice, thrice over with callouses. “It’s good to see you as well in good health and spirits” she acquiesced to following him toward the map. She paused for a moment, a tinge of sadness coursing through her at the thought of her lost brethren. “Alas, they achieved what they sought and did it valiantly” his words were surprisingly tender, “I do too, but we shall see them in due time once again.”
Lifting her head she was greeted by the embrace of what could have been a bear not long for hibernation given the size and stature of the man. Her arms were pinned to her side and as warm as the embrace was, her bones could hardly muster his grip. “You as well, I thought I lost you once you made way for the forest.” Gathering new air in her lungs she was greeted by yet another, “The years matter not, this little wolf had been following you since the start of battle. Seemed the Parrench did not want me to intervene” accepting that both the King and Hildr would always see her as she once was.
Ulfhild grabbed the nearest horn she could find and toasted to the memory of not just her kin, but those of the Aeresvaktr, for even the most legendary heroes must ascend someday. She took a swig of her mead before choking on it thereafter. Her eyes shot at Kol as her cheeks became flush. “Me?” She pointed at herself, seeing the other nod. It seemed as though her dream of being in league with Thorunn was becoming more of a reality than not. She ditched her horn and stepped forward to receive her invitation to the group of ten. “Ready” she said triumphantly.
Hrothgar’s sword settled upon first her left shoulder and then her right and he spoke the sacred words. His expression beatific and his hand steady, he drew the tip of the sword across her bare skin where he found it and drew a trickle of blood. “Let this represent the blood you will shed in service of your king and your gods. Let it be the enemy’s in great measure, and yours only as needed.” He cleaned the sword and sheathed it. “Arise, Ulfhild of Ulven: Tenth among the Aeresvaktr, and drink of this cup.” He held a great horn towards her, which was richly embellished in silver and gold and inscribed with ancient runes. “Into it, a drop of blood: the iron of your loyalty, the fire of your soul.” His gaze was intense. “Drink now!” he commanded, and others echoed his call.
Had the initiation not already been an out of body experience it would be now with the imbibing of the Ornskyr contained inside the mead. Swallowing it down she could feel a euphoric feel wash over her. Her physical body only slightly tethering her to the physical world. She could see those of the ten that fell in this battle behind her King welcoming her in and those before them behind them. Only the throbbing of the site of her fresh wound pulled her back. Ulfhild lowered her head, becoming whole again, brushing any extra from the sides of her mouth with a smile. She let out a howl solidifying the moment that would bring her and everyone she knew great honor.
“Good!” called Hrothgar, with a backslapping hug. He took the horn from her. “I embrace you.” He enfolded her in his arms and planted a small kiss on each cheek. “You go now as my hand and with my protection.” There was time yet for feasting, drink, and laughter, but soon enough began the planning. Kol, Vali, and some others were dispatched to Meldheim with the King’s official words on the battle, a Kressian named Dietrich was sent as part of an embassy, and the other two new members of the Aeresvaktr were to be inducted, welcomed by Kol, as only kings were granted that privilege. Thorunn was to return, shortly, to Hegelich for her coronation, and the remaining Aeresvaktr split between the five armies that would divide to pillage the Parrench countryside. Amid it all, the essential question was put to Ulfhild: where would she be going?
As much as she’d like to go home, she had to finish what she started.
@Archangel89
Yeah it’s used a lot in anime and just general exchange. Ikuze is more masculine though so boys use it more then girls. No problem I’ve studied it for 3 years so I know my away around. Haha I thought it might be lore related too so that works.
Yeah it’s used a lot in anime and just general exchange. Ikuze is more masculine though so boys use it more then girls. No problem I’ve studied it for 3 years so I know my away around. Haha I thought it might be lore related too so that works.
@Archangel89
I noticed you wrote ikuza but “let’s go” in Japanese would be one of these options: ikuze, ikuyo, ikuzo or just plain iku.
I noticed you wrote ikuza but “let’s go” in Japanese would be one of these options: ikuze, ikuyo, ikuzo or just plain iku.
I think that’s enough people to begin moving forward again. I’ll have a post up later this week moving us to the next scene.
Hey guys.
I've been meaning to make a post, but I've been sick for the past few days and still ill, so I don't have the mental energy to write a post since it usually takes me hours to write one.
Once I'm feeling better. I'll pump one out.
Cheers!
Dr. Isolde would never.
very much still interested! just trying to find the time to post.
Yeah no worries! Just checking interest still
Hey all, not sure what the status of this RP will be going forward. I can take a headcount of those still interested in moving forward with this and go from there. Understandable if some or all of you don’t want to continue, just figured I’d say something.
Ulfhild Ulven
Interacting with: Self @Salsa Verde
Opportunity: 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.
Event: Siege of Relouse Location: Parrench Camps
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. “You fought well” 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.
“Olaf! Olaf!”
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. “No, no, no. We should have stayed together you stubborn mule. You needed the healing more than I” 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, “You’ll see me again, I’ll make sure of it, Parrench dog.”
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.
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.
“Olaf! Olaf!”
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. “No, no, no. We should have stayed together you stubborn mule. You needed the healing more than I” 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, “You’ll see me again, I’ll make sure of it, Parrench dog.”
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.
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