Inlaa

The Silver Dagger

That'll be my last post for the night, I think. I've had that scene in my head for a while, so I figured I'd write that bit of backstory before I forget it.

EDIT: By the way, if anything that I write gets too graphic, let me know. I'm trying to give enough detail to get the point across without going all out.

The Silver Dagger

The Wodane warrior closed her eyes as she stood in the doorway, doing her best to drive out thoughts of blood, fire and steel. The images simply grew all the bolder in color, all the brighter. There, the splash of red. It...

---

It was too much to bear. They'd stripped Mallach bare and tossed him into the pit with the boars. Ayla could hear her daughter screaming in despair, still unable to comprehend what had just happened but knowing all too well how wrong it was.

Ayla could not look away. There were tears in her eyes, too, a flood of them, but she said no words. Her stare was affixed to her brother's body; her eyes would not close though they knew what was coming. Those eager pigs waltzed up to the body at a leisurely pace, snorting and sniffing. Then, the brute beasts clamped their tusked maws about his arms and legs, ripping away flesh and swallowing it down right before her eyes.

Ayla tucked her daughter's head into her chest, letting the girl cry and cry. She covered her ears, too, not wanting sweet Ganna to hear the sickening crunch of teeth through bone. But Ayla couldn't look away.

---

When she came back to her senses, the girl was still talking of a library and stories. It didn't register fully with Ayla. The memories were too vivid. She scowled.

"I said," the warrior grunted between gritted teeth, "I've a dark cloud." She glanced back at Mysaren and gave her a serious look, looking a bit wilder than she intended. "I'll hear your stories later. Later. But I need a drink."

It wasn't the dark woman's fault, really. Ayla knew that. But these moods came upon Ayla too often, rare as they were. Any memory like that visited too often, even if "too often" was just once. She stalked out of the bunk room, intent on following the faint scent of cheap booze. That, however, turned into a walk outside and toward the training yard, perhaps the best place for her in such a foul mood.

She needed to hit something.

The Silver Dagger

@Inlaa Maybe. That's an idea. The entire cast is probably an ocean of hungry snarks waiting to happen lol.

@potatochipgolem

Yes. Yes, it is.

@Jester... Do we HAVE to? You've seriously tempted me to have Ayla scratch her fingers across a chalkboard to quiet a room and start talking about being a great monster hunter.

@Mysaren By the way, don't worry about apologizing. I'll just say that Ayla hasn't ever even considered the thought before. I actually haven't decided anything about her view on homosexuality besides "Well, she knows she's attracted to dudes." Widow and all that.

The Silver Dagger

Well, that's an odd thing if there ever was such. The confused look on Ayla's face only grew as she regarded the other woman. She decided, though, it was probably another odd, foreign mannerism. Those noble fops from Belgard that kissed each other on the cheek had struck her as odd at first, too, but that was just a customary greeting for those bastards.

The memory of Belgard struck a cord with Ayla, though. She forgot about the conversation momentarily - thankfully, only momentarily - and started reaching for one of the axes on her bunk. Within three seconds, however, she snapped back to reality, eyes wide, and looked back over at the weird, dark-skinned woman. She vaguely understood what she was saying at first, then absorbed the rest just fine.

"Never been to any desert," she began, unable to shake the last memories of Belgard to the back of her mind. She rambled some out. "T'weren't ever a fancy I had. Married a chief; gave him a strong son and a bonny girl. Fought a rebellion and lost all of 'em to that war. Not much else to tell."

The memories soured her mood. She felt like hitting something, but there was nothing worth hitting, so she didn't. She quickly finished removing her bracers, the last bit of armor she had any plans to remove, and tucked a couple of her runed throwing axes back on her belt. "You'll have to tell me about those cities later. I've a dark cloud, now."

The Silver Dagger

Since he's ICly planning on looking into the evil himself, perhaps Ro'en might end up snooping out the same thing the group goes after as a whole? Keeps him in the roleplay and lets him see what they can do.

But he should still expect snark attacks.

The Silver Dagger

I'm honestly surprised that of all the characters to first get into an argument with an NPC - I mean, there's a veteran mercenary, a warrior that's murdered innocents in war, and a scholar being whispered dark thoughts - that it's the well-dressed, intelligent-by-occupation alchemist that throws down a gauntlet first.

Ayla's going to snark at Ro'en a bit more than necessary now. First impressions and all that.

The Silver Dagger

Ayla stared at the skinny fellow as he growled into the official's face. She felt a groan coming on, but it didn't escape; a quick glance to the side showed the big fellow, Alexander, was ready to pummel the boy or something should he get out of hand. Seemed a fair thing. She balled a fist as well, just in case.

The response from the groggy man at the door, though, was priceless.

"We're out of rum. There's a tavern a block down from here that sells some cheap shit. If you want in this building, you're going get me a crate of it."

Things were becoming very familiar to Ayla. Aye, they were. Boys like this skinny one, jumped up and full of themselves, threw their weight around until someone set them straight. She doubted he'd last long with an attitude like that.

"The rest of you can show yourselves in," the weary looking man continued. "You can toss your shit by whichever bunk you soddin' please. When you're ready to talk, I'll be napping in the mess." As he walked in, he added, perhaps as an afterthought, "Big guy with the sword, don't let the tough guy in until he's done with his first big assignment."

Ayla couldn't help but grin, and this time there was actual amusement to it. She glanced up at the giant, shaking her head. "Careful with the gangly geebag," she said with an oh-so-serious expression, pointing over at the fellow that had barged in and spat out curses. "He's a mean little shrimp."

Alexander seemed to want to know the rapscallion's name before he was forced out, but the mage had no such intentions. She headed on in, finding the bunks rather easily and the dark-skinned woman along with them.

She gave the woman - Mysaren, that was her name - a curious look, the laughter having faded from her face by now. She didn't bother busying herself as she stood there; the woman was strange enough to warrant a second looking at. Only after she was content that she'd seen all the strangeness did she start setting her own things down and removing her armor. She picked a bunk by the door, of course. It was on the floor.

"So," she began, "what's it you bring to this lodge? If we're to be kith in battle, I've a right to know what manner of fighter I'll be trusting... if you're to be fighting at all, that is.

"The name's Ayla Nic Lanrogh, Runemage of Clan Woerich." Pausing, she decided the odd woman might not know what that meant. "My people are the Wodanes," she added, "from the Stormy Isle far to the north. You?"

The Silver Dagger

"So I did," answered the woman with the brown braid. "Wouldn't trust anyone else to work the magic; I'm wont to prefer my own." Smiling mostly out of habit, she stroked the edge of the axe with her thumb. They were fine axes.

"Seems we had the same idea, Alexander. I am Ayla Nic Lanrogh, Runemage of Clan Woerich." Seeing no glint of recognition in the giant's eyes, she shrugged and added, "I'm not from around here." Not that that needed to be said. She stepped on forward and held her hand out to this Alexander, offering to shake his massive hand.

Ayla took a better moment to look the swordsman over, inspecting him with equal scrutiny. Now that he was facing her, she could tell he wasn't too far from her in age. He spoke with confidence, truly. It was not the sort of confidence that was bred in nobles or that held young men's heads high as they marched into battle for the first time. No, it was the sort of confidence that came from killing another human and living to tell the tale.

T'was a confidence paid for in a steep price, Ayla knew. It always was.

"Fought alongside the kerns in a war or two. Know the smell of whiskey on the breath, I do. You've a touch of it." Honest words, those. Ayla happened to like the smell of beer and whiskey.

It was then she heard another woman's voice, this one tired and nervous. "Uh, I do hope I'm not interrupting," that voice said, "but are you all here for the job offer?"

A quick glance back astonished the warrior-woman. The speaker was a dark-skinned woman, darker than anyone she'd ever seen, with her hair knotted up in thick black locks. It was the most peculiar sight, even more foreign than her red-trimmed robes. Her eyes were blue; that much seemed normal. But the rest... The rest was all very strange.

Strange and new, perhaps, was to be expected in a city this large.

"That's the right of it," she answered, looking the strange, tall woman up and down. "Sellswords we are. Wouldn't have thought someone dressed like that would be looking into mercenary work... You ought to get a bit of armor and some clothes better suited to the road, methinks, lest you stumble in the midst of a charge or retreat."

The Silver Dagger

I'll keep that in mind. I definitely had a slightly different idea of what was going down in mind, but it shouldn't be hard for me to adapt.

The Silver Dagger

Going to respond to the response myself and then wait so others have a chance to post. Two posts early on is enough for me.