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9 yrs ago
Current Really busy right now. Will probably not be able to post till next week.

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”And give us some bonus pay for signing the contract,” Ernst kindly supplemented Kat after she had spoken. ”Just to let us know you’re trustworthy, and so we can buy extra provisions for the journey. Long way from here to the Spine, see. I think our swords could use a good whetstone, our quivers a few more arrows.”

Contracts in the North -- or at least where Ernst lived -- were the ultimate binding agreement. Ernst was requesting that the dwarf follow the customs of the lords there: when a soldier or mercenary is pledged to one’s service, he or she is given a bonus at enlistment. In steady work, the soldier is paid 2 gold coins (or the equivalent thereof in other kinds of coin) per month, and would get yet another bonus at retirement in addition to his or her fair share of loot after combat actions. As the ducal demesne boasted good silver mines, the lords could afford such expenditures. This was the reason Norse troops rarely mutinied or deserted their armies, contrary to the stereotype of the Northerner being more loyal and stout of heart than most peoples.


"You seem to think myself aggrandizing my achievements." replied Ernst to Solana. "That wasn't the point of my tale, but that what is spoken of and what is could well not be the same. In my village, there was much talk about the tree spirits living in the forests, of how powerful they are and how they could tempt a man into abandoning his family to join the wood with the same ease as killing him outright. Well, I saw one as a child, and I saw its throat get slashed by my sister. The stories also tell of their immortality, but I saw no such thing as it doubled over and died, blood gushing out of its neck and gurgling weakly."

He was also fighting temptation and valiantly trying not to stare at Elora for too-long periods of time.


"Unlike you, elf, I am not so wasteful that I would throw my life away like a duke would his own daughter," Ernst shot back at Jespir, apparently tiring of being called a mere boy by everyone. He was twenty-too, dammit, a man! And not even half a damned minute in the tavern this elf has been, and he had already pledged himself purse-and-honor to this gargantuan undertaking, like he hadn't been thinking. Meanwhile, himself, having idled and having been there since the start, continued his contemplation, weighing the risks and the rewards. "No offense," he finished, after a beat and examining the pirate's outfit. What a uniform! Yet another noble?

Mild surprise at that seeming fact aside, Ernst was finally coming to a conclusion. Letting go of the handle of his sword and putting a knuckle upon his chin, he began to monologue: "You know, my sister and I went hunting in the forests near my home village many, many years ago. We had spotted a group of elks, and were about to fell one, but then this voice came from the depths of the wood, telling us that we trespassers and evil people for hunting. Freya, having a sharp wit and more courage than I ever did, told the spirit to forgive us for being hungry and that it could go fuck itself, meanwhile I was soiling my pants. We were still children, see. Heh."

"'Course, the elks all suddenly started having glowing eyes and began to chase us through the underbrush. It was hell. I swear, my legs felt like they were burning, I ran so fast. Now, our feet weren't very fleet so we were surrounded pretty quickly. The elks formed a circle around us, and I shit you not, that a woman then began to emerge from the bark of the tree we were trying to climb for safety. Nowadays, I like to joke about how big the spirit's breasts were," Ernst brought his two hands near his chest and squeezed to emphasize, "but at the time, I was just scared shitless. So shitless that I've forgotten most of what she had yelled at us, educating us of our family, village, and Empire's sins against nature. Sister, of course, had more spine, and she took my dagger and plunged it straight into the spirit's throat just was she was going to make her final judgement."

"The blood was too bright to be that of a mortal's, but it still gushed out of the wound regardless. Leaves fell around us as the tree she was attached to wilted, darkened and died. The elks around collapsed and seemed to fall asleep. Eventually, the spirit gurgled its last curse and went limp. It was... fucking terrifying," Ernst laughed.

"Now, when we came home covered in blood and with enough pelts and venison to sate the Emperor's hunger for a hundred years, we were, at the same time, village celebrities and in deep trouble with our parents. Regardless, my point is that the stories old people and bards like to tell us about spirits and the supernatural are probably exaggerated." Ernst then took a seat before the table and the document, looking at each of his would-be companions’ eyes, his voice taking on a solemn tone. I saw that blade sink into that spirit’s throat and cut every vein one by one. I saw her double over, try to screech with her severed throat, and reach at her neck in extreme agony. I saw her die, miserably."

He took a moment to let that fact sink in, both for himself and the people around.

"She was a spirit, yes, but we killed her regardless. And if she could supposedly turn men into trees, lead a troupe of pixies to steal the local village's children, and make hunters like my sister and I disappear without a trace, then killing a dragon should be only a little bit harder. Huh. Funny how you don't know what you believe in until you actually say it. What the hell was I even being afraid of? Let me sign!"

Confidence restored, he reached into his gambeson, tore away the only silver coin he had from its cloth, and slammed it onto the table with gusto. Then, he took the quill with a determined smirk on his face and signed his name decisively. To say that it was ugly was a severe understatement:



In his defense, he was but a humble farmer and woodsman.
Posted. Ernst is in disbelief.

On a side note, I've made Ernst a little banner.


There were a great number of thoughts swimming in Ernst’s mind after he had taken in what the master dwarf had to say, yet only one found favor and began the most coveted process of verbal ascension: eyebrows arched up in mirthful disbelief, Ernst summarized so matter-of-factly, “You’re going to take our money then send us after a dragon in the Spine?”

The fact that the task was outlandish was already well-established, but actually hearing himself say it further emphasized its impossibility. Ernst couldn't help but giggle.
And Ernst is terrified for his and the others' safety as there is a walking, talking ninja dog in the tavern.
One person admonishing him was bad enough, yet another was simply too much. Vidic’s words, cold and dark like ice, reminded Ernst that, yes, he was around people who were completely out of his league. His mind came to a stammering halt the moment Vidic expressed his relief at the thought of him dying as there would be one less person to share the gold with.

“These people are not the killers I’m used to,” was Ernst’s biggest thought, one that loomed over his mind which was ablaze with an ocean of ideas, responses and counter-arguments he could shoot the rune mage back with, and yet halted by sheer intimidation and indecision.

“But…,” was as far as his jaw went, till being met with a loss for words. Eyes still widened and focused much of the time on Marco, Ernst was now silent.
"'Back to business?'" Ernst echoed Kat, whilst shifting his gaze from the amputee to Osla and thinking of whether or not to actually draw his sword to ready himself for a conflictual retreat at the cost of further antagonization. Preoccupied as he was, he did not notice Elora meekly entering the tavern and settling herself inside inconspicuously; and his voice had inflections of clear alarm and outrage. "How can you all be so calm, when this demon just threatened me with either death or enslavement? Hell, do you not even baulk at the size of its fangs? I dare say that it is an immediate threat to us all!"

Brow furrowed and teeth bared in a grimace, he tried to stare the demon down. Ernst had never seen a Kunite before, and Marco looked like something out of a woodsman's horror story for him. Failing to think of anything else to say, Ernst demanded: "Explain yourself, beast!"
The definition of perfection is subject to one's perspective, and in Ernst's, a walking, talking, anthropomorphic beast is hardly it and understandably far from it.

Guess there'll be some conflict early on.
That sense of being out of place was replaced with fear, incredulousness, shock and revulsion as Ernst witnessed the otherworldly spectacle of a walking, talking dog. In utter disbelief, he rubbed his eyes with quivering hands to dispel the illusion before him, but the smell of fur soon made him realize that the… demon, was actually real.

“Gods above,” Ernst cursed, stepping back and gripping the handle of his sword. “What the hell is this dog?!”
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