|
|
Post by Blindside Tex on Jun 8, 2019 22:21:39 GMT -5
Azariah was focused in working with the shield maidens of Skajadol. She trained them as if they were her own. She stood before one of the women a smile upon her lips. “You don’t trust me.” She spoke as she stared into the young woman’s eyes. “You push back against everything that I tell you.” She could feel the eyes of the others upon her. Azariah moved quickly, she gripped the shield and ripped it down before she shoved it up. It slammed against the young maiden’s jaw and knocked her back. “Defend yourself if you know how to fight so well.” Azariah pushed forward shoving the woman back. After the past few weeks of fighting with the stubborn few she had, had enough of their defiant nature.
Azariah swept her foot behind the woman knocking her to her back, she looked down to her from where she stood. “You’re dead.” She spoke her voice almost cold. “Anyone that you were supposed to keep protected, children….also dead.” She turned and walked toward the front of the group again. Her eyes caught Varmond and a smile curved up her lips. Though she didn’t keep the smile upon her face as she turned to the women. “Get up.” She spoke eying the girl whom was on the ground.
“You didn’t give her a chance to fight back.” Another one of the younger women spoke up.
Azariah looked to her and gave a nod. “No, I did not.” She tilted her head slightly. “Will your enemies give you a chance to counter?” She questioned then. “Will your enemies fight fair? Will they allow you to put up your shield?” She stepped forward and stood before the woman. “Will they allow you to make a blow after they have knocked you back?” She stood just inches from the woman. “Or will your enemy seek out your weaknesses and exploit each and every one until it is you that lies upon the ground in a puddle of blood?” The young woman took in a breath, her own breath shuddered. Azariah smirked then. “No argument hm? Is that because you’ve nothing to say?” She watched as the girl nodded her head shakily. “Good.” She stepped back to the head of the women and glanced around. “Anyone else?” She asked.
Silence blanketed the group of shield maidens. “Good, you’re dismissed for the day then.” She spoke as she turned. Azariah walked through the snow, the cold wasn’t as bothersome to her now. She’d begun to grow accustomed to it. She walked through the village and found her way to Moira’s home where she knocked lightly on the door. She had been at Moira’s side when they buried her husband. The woman had sobbed for hours. Azariah hated that she hadn’t stopped it, that she couldn’t save him. “Moira?” Azariah asked softly her eyes glanced to the smoldering hearth. The home was empty. She drew her brows together and let out a sigh before she closed the front door once again. Moira was nearing the end of her term, Mag said it could be any day now. Azariah wondered then if Moira had gone to Mag’s home. As she turned to head in that direction her silver hues caught something in the distance. Upon a hilltop she could see the shape of a horse with a figure upon its back.
Azariah paused where she stood as she stared to the figure. She watched as the figure stayed upon the crest, as if watching Skajadol. The horse looked familiar to Azariah a red and white paint, the coloring was unique as a zebra...she knew that horse. It was from Whitlock. Azariah took off then in a sprint through the city. “Varmond!” She cried as she rushed to his side. “There is trouble on the horizon.” She glanced to the hill in the distance. The figure was gone. Azariah paused a moment. “I saw the captain of my father’s warriors. He was upon his horse at the crest of the hill...we must stop him...but he won’t be alone. Our scouts traveled in packs of 6...usually skilled in various tasks to compliment each other...” Azariah glanced to her husband, “We have to stop him from getting back to Whitlock...they are planning an attack.”
|
|
|
|
Post by Nyte on Jun 8, 2019 22:49:02 GMT -5
Varmod had simply watched the group as Azariah scolded the women and even laid one out on her back. Several of them looked to him to see if he would intervene but of course he did not. They were stubborn but he didn't expect much else from them. He also knew that there were several husbands watching from a safe distance to see how they held up against Varmod's wife in combat. He had even caught wind of bets being placed though he didn't partake in such things. When Azariah dismissed the group he shook his head slightly and turned to head towards the main hall where an evening meal was being prepared for those who were practicing today. For all their stubbornness the women were making progress. They were quicker on their feet and were able to predict movements more easily. Azariah was teaching them well.
He had found his way to the kitchen when, and was trying to sneak a couple of sweet buns, when he heard Azariah calling his name. The woman who was scolding him for bothering them while they cooked and baked continued to curse at him even as he turned away from her. Scouts? In winter? He only hesitated for a moment before he broke out into a run and put his fingers to his lips to give a shrill whistle that summoned his horse from the stables. Of course there was no saddle or bridle on the beast but those were more of a luxury than a necessity in a time of need. Several other men had also heard Azariah as she yelled for Varmod and had gone to get their horses as well.
As Varmod's stallion approached he leaped onto the horse's back and reached down to pull Azariah up behind him. "Take my bow." He told her and pulled it from his back as well as a handful of arrows. He had the weapon on him due to his earlier training while trying to perfect the younger men's archery skills. It would be easier for Azariah to shoot them while he controlled his horse without the tack. He kicked the beast into a full gallop up the hill where Azariah had seen the scout and as he crested the top he could see several men off in the distance. To his right several of his own men were already giving chase on their horses as well. "You get a shot you take it, Azariah!" Varmod yelled over the sound of thundering hooves beneath them.
Even with two riders Varmod's horse was fast and full of energy. The scouts' horses were tired from the long journey to Whitlock and having been exposed to the cold and harsh weather. They quickly started to gain ground on the men as they reached another steep hill.
|
|
|
|
Post by Blindside Tex on Jun 8, 2019 23:17:09 GMT -5
Azariah had taken off behind Varmond. She took his arm as he grabbed ahold of her, an unspoken trust between them. Azariah gripped her legs around the horse as Varmond gave her his bow. She held onto it and grasped onto his jerkin with her other hand as she glanced ahead. She could see the men in the distance. Her heart began to pound as the words came over Varmond’s lips. This was it. This was her proving moment. She would have to kill her own people. Would she be able to do such a thing? The men she grew up around? She knew the captain well. She knew his wife, his son and daughter.
Azariah shook the thought from her mind as they began to close in on the group from Whitlock. She notched an arrow and pulled back. Her eyes focused in and her breath held within her chest. As her fingers released the arrow the feathers slipped across her cheek. She watched as the arrow cut through the air swiftly. The metal tip pierced into the back of one of the men and he toppled to the ground. Azariah had already notched another arrow. She released it upon a second scout, the arrow pierced through his shoulder blade and into them man’s heart. “Gods forgive me...” Azariah breathed, tears had welled in her eyes. Two more scouts remained. Their horses were exhausted. Azariah had one arrow left that Varmond had handed her. She drew back the string as she notched the arrow. Moments later the third arrow found its target. The only man left upon his horse was the captain.
They closed in on the final scout. “Get me next to him, Varmond.” She gripped onto Varmond’s back, she was already lifting her legs and perching herself upon the rump of the horse. Azariah made the leap then. Her arms wrapped around the captain and they toppled into the snow rolling down the steep side of the hill that they had come to the crest of. Azariah grunted as she fought to keep a hold on the captain. She managed to reach to her thigh and pull her dagger loose and as they came to a halt at the base of the hill Azariah slammed the blade into his chest. She sat over the man, he was pinned to the ground.
The captain gazed up to Azariah as he gripped at her hand that held the hilt of the dagger. “Az….” He choked out. “Why…?” He asked as his voice trembled.
Azariah twisted the blade harshly, making the final blow to the man. The princess pulled the blade from him as she fought back tears. Her body trembled as she stood slowly. She took several paces away from the captain before she fell to her knees in the snow. A sob escaped over her lips as she remembered her childhood. The memories flooded her of the captain training her to fight when she was barely old enough to hold up a shield. Her entire body shook as she tried to fight back the emotions.
|
|
|
|
Post by Nyte on Jun 8, 2019 23:27:38 GMT -5
Varmod's expression was serious as he held the head of his horse and directed him in such a way that gave Azariah the best angle to make her shots. His men took down two and she took out three. When only the last one remained, making his horse dodge and weave in the snow to avoid the arrows, he nodded as he heard her tell him to get them next to the scout. When Azariah leaped from the back of the horse he gripped handfuls of the horse's mane to pull the beast to a stop, causing the animal to rear and toss his head in protest. Varmod held on tightly until the horse calmed down and he was able to bring him back around to where Azariah had tackled the man into the snow.
He saw that the man was dead, a cold blank stare in his eyes as he looked towards the sky, and saw that Azariah had collapsed in the snow with grief. He jumped from his horse and made his way over to her and knelt down next to her to whisper in her ear. "I know you are sad, but right now I need you to be strong." He told her and clasped a hand on her shoulder as men of Skajadol rode up to them and brought their own horses to a stop. "One of the men was still alive. What should we do with him Jarl?" One of them asked.
So one of the scouts was still alive. Perhaps they could get some information about what Whitlock was planning out of him. "Take him back, alive, I want to ask him a couple of questions. Also, send someone to collect their horses. We can use them." He told the men and turned back to Azariah to help her up to her feet. "Deep breaths, this isn't over." He told her and climbed back up on his horse before offering her his hand.
|
|
|
|
Post by Blindside Tex on Jun 8, 2019 23:47:34 GMT -5
The world around Azariah grew silent, only her breaths and pounding heart could be heard within her ears. The only thing to break that silence was the soft voice of Varmond, she felt the warmth of his hand upon her shoulder. Her jaw tightened as she gave a short nod. She gasped in air as she fought against the urge to sob. Slowly with Varmond’s help she stood she faced him and gazed into his eyes. “I took the shot.” She breathed as she stared up to him, her voice trembled. She blinked away a few tears before she brushed the tears away with her free hand. Her hand that held his gripped tightly, her entire body was buzzing with adrenaline.
She glanced to the men as they rode off to catch the horses, her eyes lingered on the captain for a moment before she glanced up the hill to the man that was still alive as the other Skajadol warriors collected him. Who was it? Had she been saving the captain of torture by killing him? No, she was protecting Skajadol from attack. She was protecting them from her father. If his scouts didn’t return it would strike fear into him. She was surprised that her father would send scouts in the midst of winter. It was dangerous, especially to send scouts this far north. Did he expect that Skajadol would attack them? Azariah had so many questions running through her mind as she climbed on the back of Varmond’s horse once again.
She was lost in thought as they came back into the town. Though her attention came back as she heard the people of Skajadol cheer on the warriors that returned. Azariah slipped from the back of the horse and she followed the men that had the last scout. She stared to the back of the man that hung weakly in their arms. An arrow pierced through his side, it had missed vital organs, which had allowed him to live. Who was it? She stepped into the hut that the men dragged the scout into and her expression dropped when the man was turned around and shoved into a chair.
“Dear sister...” Otta looked up to his sister, he smiled with bloody teeth. “I see you’ve become a savage so easily.” He spit the blood onto the floor. “So you weren’t kidnapped as father claims.” He scoffed. Azariah stood motionless as she stared into the eyes of her brother, her jaw loosened slightly. “How many of us did you kill hm? 3? 4? At least you didn’t shoot this arrow.” He snickered before he spit a glob of blood on the ground. Azariah continued to stare, it was unreal. Her brother before her. She closed her eyes a moment. “I’m not your imagination, Azariah.” Otta giggled as he watched his sister. “Look at me! I’m your enemy now, you chose this!” He said with more force. “You turned your back on us!” Azariah took in a breath then, she turned away from her brother. “Oh….oh I see! You’re too good for me huh? Animal!” He growled out. “You’re just like them, Azariah!”
Azariah closed her eyes again as she took in a shaken breath. “Shut up Otta.” She spun around and gripped his chin. “I’m not the cause of this.” She narrowed her brows, her voice was strong. “You were the cause of all of this. If a war must happen, it is your fault and yours alone.” She released his chin then before she took a step back to allow Varmond to perform his duties as Jarl.
|
|
|
|
Post by Nyte on Jun 9, 2019 0:10:34 GMT -5
As they rode back into town and the people cheered them on for their success in capturing or killing the scouts Varmod kept his focus forward. He did not join in their cheers, his job was not done, and as he lowered Azariah off the back of his horse then dismounted himself he allowed someone else to take the beast while he followed after the prisoner. The King was getting brave, or desperate, to send scouts in winter. Was he really that afraid of Skajadol and what would happen to him with Azariah aiding his enemy? The man was a fool and the more time that passed the more Varmod was convinced of that, and a fool King needed to be removed.
When they reached the hut Varmod clinched his fists as the man was turned for him to see his face. Otta, the lying and underhanded bastard that had caused this whole mess. It was almost poetic justice that he was the one apprehended for Varmod to question, and he would enjoy every second of it. He only waited long enough for Azariah to say her peace before he stepped up to the table Otta had been laid on and loomed over the man menacingly. Even for all his harsh words and bravado towards his own sister Varmod could see the fear in his eyes as he was forced to look up at him.
"Your father must be determined to lose both of his children to send you with the scouting party, or is he simply so desperate and scared of Skajadol that he was willing to take the risk?" Varmod leaned down to Otta and whispered. "Of course if you were my son I would want to be rid of you as well so maybe he sent you to your death." Otta's response was to spit in Varmod's face and then quickly received a fist to his jaw that nearly knocked him off the other side of the table. The men who had brought Otta to the hut were still standing off to the side and only stepped forward to move Otta back into the center of the table and allow Varmod to continue questioning him.
"Might as well kill me, Savage. I wont tell you anything." Otta sneered and smirked as if he were the one holding all the cards in the situation.
"Oh naive Otta. You think you'll get off that easy? If you die without telling me what I want to know it'll be in the jaws of my hunting dogs. The ice has kept them cooped up for a while and they're very anxious to taste fresh blood again. I can assure you though it'll be a while yet before I allow them to have a go at your flesh. So might as well loosen those lips of yours so that I can grant you a more merciful death." Otta was far less willing to offer retort at this point. Not to mention his jaw now hurt in addition to the arrow still stuck in his side. "Now, what is that fool of a King planning, hmm?" When Otta didn't offer a response immediately Varmod grabbed the shaft of the arrow and quickly yanked it out of Otta's side which made him yell in pain. Varmod turned towards one of the men standing to the side. "Go fetch Mag. I don't want this one dying just yet." The man nodded and quickly left to fulfill Varmod's order.
|
|
|
|
Post by Blindside Tex on Jun 9, 2019 9:01:44 GMT -5
Azariah watched as Varmond stepped forward, her blood was boiling at this point. How dare her brother accuse her of abandoning them when it was Otta’s fault that she’d left in the first place. If he could have been a honorable man this would have never happened. The sound of Varmond’s fist contacting against Otta’s cheek reverberated through the room but Azariah didn’t look away. She didn’t feel the same remorse that she felt for the captain. Not when she was always the one to clean up her brother’s messes her entire life. Not when her brother treated her poorly and poked and prodded at her constantly. The scream that Otta let out when Varmond ripped the arrow from his side was loud it pierced Azariah’s eardrums and she winced slightly.
When Varmond requested Mag she watched the man rush from the home her eyes moved back to her brother whom whimpered. She stepped to his side and gazed over him. “Otta you do not have any leverage here.” She spoke as she gazed into his eyes. “The longer that you refuse to tell the Jarl why you were sent, the longer you will feel pain.”
“What do you know of leverage sister?” Otta snapped blood in his mouth bubbled over the edges of his lips as he spoke. “Huh? You have nothing left in Whitlock for you!” He spat with a cackle. “Poor mother thinks you were kidnapped and father seems to believe so as well. But just wait until I tell them the filthy savage you’ve become.”
Azariah gripped his jaw again, her fingers held tightly as her brows narrowed. “At least I do not defile women and drink myself to oblivion day in and day out. Hm, Otta?”
The door pushed open, “Jarl.” The man that had went for Mag returned. “Mag is birthing Moira’s child...there have been complications she cannot leave her side otherwise Moira and the child may die.”
Azariah took in a breath, worry washed over her face for a moment. Moira was her first friend here in Skajadol. Her stomach sank to the news. But she knew Mag would keep the woman and child safe, Mage was an incredible Oracle. She turned her eyes back to her brother. “I can see to it that you do not bleed out brother.” Azariah gripped onto his side harshly, blood pooled and oozed through the cracks between her fingers. Otta screamed in pain as his sister held him there. Her eyes took on the beautiful white glow as her breathing began to tremble. Her hand began to glow as well as she clutched onto his side. She held here for a few minutes until she leaned back. Blood dripped from her hand and she dipped it into a nearby basin to wash the crimson away. Her breathing had quickened slightly. Using time to turn back injuries took a good deal out of her but what other choice did she have? Otta would have bled out within minutes it seemed. She couldn’t allow him to die, not yet.
“You’re all animals!” He taunted. “The warriors of Whitlock are going to obliterate you! Your blood will stain the snow before they are done and every single person here will be dead. Even you sister.” He spat the residual blood from his mouth. “You were never my sister. You were never family! You were nothing but a fucking freak that Odin gave powers! Father saw you as a trophy and nothing more!”
Azariah took in a shaken breath. Ungrateful bastard. Hateful soul. She stared to her brother with sad eyes for a long silent moment. “Do as you please, Varmond.” She spoke and glanced to her husband. “I will see to it that he does not die, no matter the injuries.” Her voice was quiet, his words were painful. Tears welled in her eyes as she stared to her brother. What he said was true, her father had always seen her as a trophy….as an object for trading. “He will tell us the king’s plans.” She spoke with a stronger voice, though a tremble held behind it. “Eventually after so much, everyone must crumble.”
|
|
|
|
Post by Nyte on Jun 9, 2019 10:52:19 GMT -5
When the man returned to tell Varmod that Mag would not be coming he furrowed his brow but nodded in understanding. Moira was far more important than the slug on the table. When Azariah offered to prevent him from dying Varmod stepped to the side to allow her to use her magic on him. It was still awe inspiring to see her turn back time, the other men watched in amazement as well, and Varmod's eyes softened a bit as he gazed at the woman next to him.
Any tenderness he had been showing quickly dissipated as Otta started to cast such harsh words at Varmod's wife, he didnt consider them family any more, and glared at the man once more. Hearing Azariah give permission for Varmod to torment the man, with her assistance, was slightly relieving. He hadn't planned on holding back but this made it easier for later conversations with her. He cracked his knuckles and a smile split his lips as he looked down at Otta. "This I shall enjoy."
Varmod had Otta stripped of his clothing to expose his flesh to the cool air. Then he walked around the table to the other side of the room to the hearth and used the small shovel next to it, normally used to clean the ash from the space, and picked up a coal from the fire. "What is the King planning?" Varmod asked as he turned around and nodded to the men to hold Otta in place among upon the table. They grabbed his limbs and wrestled him till they managed to get him tied to the four legs of the table. No answer was forthcoming from Otta however so Varmod placed the coal on Otta's thigh and held it in place with the tool while it seared his tender flesh. Otta's screams could be heard several houses away but none who heard it felt pity for the man.
|
|
|
|
Post by Blindside Tex on Jun 9, 2019 11:18:53 GMT -5
Azariah took in a slow breath as she watched the grin split her husband’s lips. Otta deserved this. He’d deserved it for a long time. He may be her brother, but it was clear that he did not think of her as his sister any longer. So, she should not feel pity for him. She watched as the men tied her brother to the table her eyes glanced to Varmond whom gathered a coal from the hearth. The coal was a glowing orange ball as he pressed it against Otta’s skin, she waited for several minutes before she spoke. “Tell him Otta and this stops.” Azariah stepped to her brother’s side. “You know what father is planning.” She nodded to Varmond to remove the coal from her brother’s skin. Azariah watched as her brother writhed in pain pulling against the ropes that bound him in place. “What are the plans, Otta?” She questioned again.
Otta grit his teeth, “I won’t tell you savages anything.” He spat at Azariah then. “You’re worthless. You left us to the worst winter we have yet to have, our grain stores caught on fire after a storm that Thor unleashed upon us! Odin has cast a blind eye to Whitlock because of your traitorous actions!” He slammed his head back as blood ran down his thigh. “We will kill all of you and I hope that father tortures you, Azariah. I hope he makes you pay for this.”
Azariah took in a quick breath. She stepped away and grasped the iron poker from the fire. “You blame me still, brother?” She questioned as she held the glowing orange poker. “You blame me when it was I whom covered up and cleaned all of your messes? When it was I who carried you home from the pub each evening and assured the women that it would not happen again.” She leaned in close to him her eyes gazing into his. “You think that the wrath of the gods was brought upon Whitlock because I left with my husband whom the gods willed me to be with? I would have left eventually, brother.” She pressed the hot poker to her brothers chest. His skin sizzled as he began to scream. Azariah held the poker there until the skin stopped sizzling she then lifted the bar and slammed it down upon his chest. Otta cried out in pain from the harsh blow. “This is going to make for a long night and we’ve already had quite a busy day today, Otta.” Azariah spoke as she stepped back over to the hearth to deposit the poker. She stepped to his side and gazed down upon him.
“You will rot with Hel in the underworld.” Otta spoke through clenched teeth, his chest heaved. Deep bruising had already begun to form across his chest from the blow that Azariah delivered moments before. “I pray that Odin abandons you, that all of the gods abandon you to Hel.” He glared to his sister as he pulled against the ropes. “I’ll deliver you to her myself if you let me up. I’d gladly kill you, Azariah.”
Azariah took in a breath to the words her brother spoke, he’d never been so hateful. Sure he’d poked at her and prodded. He’d made her do everything that was undesirable as a child. But big brothers always picked on their little sisters, right? She let slowly released her breath and gave a nod, “You’re just jealous that mother and father would rather see me rule Whitlock over you. A disgrace, an embarrassment.” She spoke quickly, “Now tell me father’s plan.” She gripped his jaw as she leaned forward. Otta began to chuckle as he looked up to her. “What are you laughing at brother?” She questioned with furrowed brows. Otta jerked his hand free in an instant and grasped onto Azariah’s neck tightly. Azariah gripped onto his hand as she began to choke. Her eyes almost instantly began to glow the world around them came to a stop. The flickering flames of the hearth grew silent. The men that were stepping forward to save the princess froze in place. The world grew dull as Azariah turned back the seconds. As time began to move once again Otta’s hand reached up and Azariah’s hand caught him quickly. She gripped onto him and drew her dagger. In an instant she’d stabbed her dagger through the back of her brother’s hand deep into the table. Otta screamed in pain. “Enough.” Azariah snapped. “Enough games, Otta.” She breathed heavily from the use of her magic. Her eyes glanced to Varmond then as she reached up to touch her neck. She could still feel her brother’s grip though it was no longer there.
|
|
|
|
Post by Nyte on Jun 9, 2019 15:09:59 GMT -5
Otta was stubborn, at least they had that in common, but this was only going to prolong the inevitable. When Azariah used the fire poker on her brother and slammed the iron rod across his chest Varmod could hear the crack from a couple of Otta's ribs. He still had a fire in him though that made him defiant to their tactics. For a moment Varmod thought he saw Otta slip free and grasp Azariah around the neck but as he blinked he saw that her dagger pinned his hand to the table instead. It was disorientating but he brushed it off to think about at another time. Though he did think that Azariah assisting with the interrogation was infuriating Otta even more, which was a bonus.
Varmod placed a hand on Azariah's shoulder to gently pull her back from the table then pulled his dagger from the sheath on his belt. "The pain will not stop till you tell me what I want to know." He told Otta and set the flat of the blade against his belly, just below his naval. Otta swallowed nervously as he felt the cool iron against his abdomen but did not offer any words to answer Varmod's question. There was only a moment of silence in the room before Varmod slowly made a short incision along Otta's stomach and he yelled in pain once more. After finishing the one cut Varmod immediately started to make another just above his naval. Each time Varmod completed a cut he slowly moved his knife to create another and simply stared down at Otta with an expressionless gaze. "Tell me what Whitlock is planning Otta and I'll stop."
|
|
|
|
Post by Blindside Tex on Jun 9, 2019 15:39:47 GMT -5
Otta cried in pain as his blood oozed from the fresh cuts upon his abdomen. He grit his teeth and shook his head. “You’ll have to kill me you filthy animal.” He spit in Varmond’s face. “You stole my sister, you killed Tyr.” He growled. “You wrecked our town and destroyed everything we had!” It seemed he had threats and accusations for both Varmond and Azariah. Though fear did show in his eyes as he lay his head back, his chest heaved heavily.
Azariah stood still for a moment her eyes looked to the dagger that pinned her brother’s hand into the table. The blade she’d had since she was a child, the blacksmith of Whitlock had crafted it specially for her. “Varmond sacrificed Tyr because he volunteered to be the sacrifice for the Blood Eagle.” She spoke her voice strong as she stepped to her brother’s side. “Tell us what father is planning Otta and this will end.”
“Tell you, so you’ll kill me?” He questioned as he looked to his sister, a smirk formed on his lips. “You will kill me either way, so why spoil the surprise?” He snickered.
Azariah tied the rope around his wrist tightly before she twisted the dagger within his hand. Otta ground his teeth together and groaned. “Because Otta, this will continue until your last breath and then...” She smiled, “I will turn back time and I’ll be damned sure that we do it again and again until you tell us what Whitlock has planned. Why did our father send you?” She pulled the blade from his hand and she rest her hand upon his chest, the hilt of the blade between her and him. The tip of her dagger pressed against the curve of his chin. She drew her brows together when Otta refused to answer. Azariah moved closer to him she brought the blade into his view. “Wouldn’t it be a shame if you lost an eye?” She questioned. “Or an ear?” She tilted her head slightly in thought. “Or both perhaps.” Azariah moved and placed the blade against her brother’s cheekbone just beneath his eye. She began to press into his skin and blood trickled from the cut.
“Stop!” Otta cried as she began to slice into his flesh. “Stop!” He turned his head quickly away.
She straightened and sheathed her dagger a smirk upon her lips. She glanced to Varmond before she looked back to her brother. “Tell us why you were sent, or I will not stop.” She spoke as she gripped his jaw and forced him to look at her. “What does father have planned, Otta?”
Otta looked into his sister’s eyes a long moment before he nodded. “Alright.” Blood leaked down the side of his face from the small wound Azariah had created. “The king sent the scouts to see if we could locate you, Azariah.” He pulled against the ropes that held him to the table. “The queen requested that we see if you were even still alive, to see if you were bound...she’s fought with father every day since your departure.” He lay his head back. “Father plans to mount an assault as soon as the snow thaws. He will send warriors to destroy Skajadol and retrieve you. He only cares about regaining you into his control. Without you Odin’s grace has left Whitlock.”
“The wrath of the gods is from your ill will, Otta.” Azariah remarked her lips pressed together as she looked over her brother.
“Our warriors are strong and many more than what I can gather that Skajadol has. We will over power this town and the king will have you back.” Otta threatened, “Without the return of the scouts he will launch the assault sooner, as soon as the weather permits even if it is in the midst of winter...he will hold nothing back...”
Azariah drew her brows together slightly. “What did he aim to gain? What word were you taking to him?”
“That you were training their shield maidens. That you had turned upon our people.” Otta grit his teeth, his breaths were quivering. The bruising upon his chest had spread more. “It would make the attack that much easier to be able to storm the city without worry of where you were, just to kill you instead.” He glared to her. “You’re not one of us anymore, you’re a traitor and a savage. You’ve welcomed their ways.”
Azariah was silent for a long moment she slowly nodded. “They are not savages, and in fact my life is more free than it ever has been, Otta. I have the freedom to do as I please here, that is more than I can ever say of Whitlock.” She looked to Varmond with a soft smile. “I’ve a husband that will protect me and I will protect him. The people of Whitlock saw us join in union and no one spoke up to object, there is no reason for this hostility.” She shook her head and gave a weak laugh. “It is the people of Whitlock that are acting like animals, blaming Skajadol for everything.” She then looked to Varmond again and she gave a soft nod. “Is that all, Otta?” She questioned.
“Yes...” Otta groaned.
“You may do with him as you please, dear husband.” Azariah stepped to Varmond and placed a kiss upon his cheek. She glanced to her brother again only a slight bit of sadness showed as she looked over his bloodied and bruised form. “We will prevail in the attack.” She nodded, “Your warriors show more strength and honor than the lot of Whitlock.”
|
|
|
|
Post by Nyte on Jun 9, 2019 16:06:36 GMT -5
Finally Otta broke. It didn't take as long as Varmod had actually hoped. Though it did take longer than he had expected for the coward. Perhaps Otta was more of a warrior than Varmod had thought, not by much though. When he heard of Whitlock's plans to overtake Skajadol and recapture Azariah in order to regain Odin's good graces he sighed and cleaned off his blade on Otta's clothes that had been removed and placed the weapon back in its sheath. "Thank you Otta for your cooperation. I'm glad you've come to your senses and told us what we needed to know. Now you will be released and sent home." He told the man who looked towards Varmod with surprise and hope glimmering in his eyes. Was Varmod really going to show him such a level of mercy after all he had said and done? "Unfortunately for your betrayal and crimes against others I will be the one to deliver the hammer of justice to you. You will be castrated and your tongue removed before being sent home on the back of your horse to your father. Hel will have to wait for your soul. She had an eternity to torment you but you're not done suffering during this life yet."
The hope quickly disappeared from Otta's eyes as he pulled against the ropes that held him. "No! You can't! I haven't yet sired an heir!"
"The world is blessed for that and I am doing it a favor by ensuring that one will never be born." Varmod replied and looked towards the two men still in the room with them. "Wait until Mag is done with Moira then have her remove his tongue and testicles before setting him on his way. Make sure he has enough food and water for the trip as well. I would hate for him to die of starvation before he made it back to Whitlock."
"As you wish, Jarl." Was their response and Varmod turned to Azariah and motioned for her to head towards the door and take their leave.
Once outside Varmod took a deep breath of fresh air that was not tainted by the smell of blood. "If your father thinks he can beat us in the dead of winter he is an even greater fool than I thought. We will meet his battle call with one of our own." He looked towards his wife and wrapped an arm around her waist to bring her in close to his body. "Thank you for remaining strong and loyal to Skajadol. I know the people here will respect you all the more for it. We always protect our own."
|
|
|
|
Post by Blindside Tex on Jun 9, 2019 16:35:06 GMT -5
Azariah watched as the news was broken to her brother. At first surprise flooded her eyes but as things unfolded it became clear that Varmond was sending a message to Whitlock by sending Otta back in such a way. Otta didn’t deserve a quick and easy death for what he’d done in his life, it was a wonder he hadn’t been sacrificed to the gods yet for his crimes. She stepped outside with Varmond to the nod of his head. She leaned against his warmth and let out a sigh. “My father isn’t that much of a fool to attack during winter. He knows the odds would be against him. I’m not entirely sure we should trust every word that came from Otta’s mouth. He is good at manipulation.” She reached up and placed her hand over his, her fingers curled into his and she smiled softly. “I will keep Skajadol protected just as I keep you protected.” She glanced up to him as they came toward the great hall where the feast had been prepared. “We shall feast and we shall prepare to stop my father and his warriors. I do not want to return as a tool to my father’s power.” She shook her head and stopped outside of the hall doors. She turned in Varmond’s arms and hugged her body to him, her face pressed against his chest a long moment. She found it calming to be this close to him, his heartbeat echoed against her eardrum as she pressed against his chest. Her smile only widened as she listened to this.
She pulled back and gazed up to him, “He is a fool if he thinks that with more warriors they will win.” She leaned up and kissed Varmond just as the doors to the hall opened. A cheer came from the people inside as they looked to their Jarl and his wife in such an intimate embrace.
The coos of a baby could be heard from within the great hall. Moira stood with a young babe wrapped in fur in her arms. Mag stood before her speaking to her and sprinkling something over the child’s head. Soon Mag came to Azariah and Varmond, she smirked to them. “When will you sire a babe for me to deliver, Varmond? She’s quite the woman, hm?” She chuckled as she glanced to Azariah whom turned in Varmond’s arms. Mag looked to the princess a moment before she nodded. “I’ll take care of the Whitlock Prince and send him packing.” She spoke before she walked off.
Azariah let out a soft chuckle. She took Varmond’s hand and led him inside where the people cheered and clapped. Her eyes glanced around to the people of Skajadol, some that had never smiled to her smiled now. It seemed Varmond was right, she would gain their trust through the actions she’d made. She’d protected them from the scouts of Whitlock, without hesitation. “Moira.” Azariah’s hand slipped from Varmond’s as she stepped forward. She smiled brightly as she looked to the baby in Moira’s arms. “Ohhh would you look. Varmond.” She pulled him over.
“He looks just like his father, doesn’t he? He has his eyes.” Moira spoke, tears welled in her eyes. Indeed the child took a likeness of the now passed warrior.
“He will be with you through your son, Moira. He’s beautiful.” She smiled.
Moira placed the baby in Azariah’s arms, “His name is Asgar.” She spoke with a grin. “Mag said he will be a fierce warrior, he will protect Skajadol.”
Azariah held the child and her eyes seemed to light up with awe as she looked over him. The child cooed and reached up toward Azariah’s face. She giggled as the small hands touched her cheek. “He will be strong.” She nodded, “Just as his father was. Welcome to Skajadol Asgar.” She chuckled as he moved around in her arms. “He’s wonderful Moira.” She smiled.
Moira’s eyes were tired as she looked to the two. “Would you watch him while I eat?” She questioned.
“Of course.” Azariah smiled, “You need to eat, go.” She nodded.
“Thank you, Az.” She slipped away to the feast.
Azariah rocked the child in her arms as she glanced to Varmond. “Do you think we should attack Whitlock before they have the chance to attack us?” She questioned then. “I know you’ve been speaking to the council when I am training the maidens.” She raised a brow as she watched him. “If we caught them by surprise it would lessen deaths on our side. I do not want another child to grow without a father.” She looked down to young Asgar as he curled into her chest and his eyes closed. “It is horrible enough to think that Moira is without her husband...” She sighed softly then. “How can we stop this, Varmond?”
|
|
|
|
Post by Nyte on Jun 9, 2019 17:00:00 GMT -5
Varmod chuckled when Azariah mentioned not to trust the intel Otta provided about the possibility of an immediate attack. "I know better than to trust a traitor. He didn't really tell me anything I didn't already suspect, but it also proves that your father did not trust Otta enough to include him in his planning. There is still much we don't know." Varmod's arms held Azariah tightly as she leaned into his chest. As she kissed him he had half a mind to forego the feast in the great hall and simply lock themselves away in their home for a more private meal. The doors to the hall opened before he could steal his wife away however and as he heard the cheers of his people he smiled and gave a short wave to those that called out to them.
Hearing the baby cry within the hall was a welcome noise as well. Throughout the ordeal with the scouts there was a bit of light at the end of the day. New life graced their presence which spoke of the god's good graces for Skajadol. Frejah had smiled upon them this day. As Azariah brought him over to see the new babe he looked over her shoulder with uncertainty. He had never dealt with children and always found it to be difficult to understand them. As Azariah held the baby he got a sneaking suspicion she might ask for one in the near future, which made him more nervous than facing a whole battlefield.
While Moira went to eat and regain her strength and Azariah watched the young child Varmod sat in his chair at the head of the long table and smiled as his cup was filled with mead. "We've thought about attacking before winter's end." He admitted. "It's risky, even for us, but could prove to be beneficial." He leaned forward and helped himself to some of the food spread out before him. A roasted pig holding the majority of his attention. "We could leave within a fortnight. Be there just after your brother makes it back and catch them off guard completely." He sat back and motioned for one of the maidens to fill Azariah's cup as well while he started on his food. "We will discuss it more after the feast. For now let us celebrate our victory." He smiled and looked down at the child in her arms once more and then took a long gulp of his mead.
|
|
|
|
Post by Blindside Tex on Jun 9, 2019 17:20:36 GMT -5
Azariah caught the nervousness in Varmond’s eyes and a smirk curved up her lips. A seasoned warrior was afraid of a child. She sat down next to him at the corner of the table. Her eyes looked to the feast before them, her mouth watering. She was starving. Her eyes glanced down to the sleepy child in her arms whom cooed as he curled more against her bosom. She reached forward carefully as she balanced the child in on arm and she popped a piece of bread into her mouth. “It would be quite dangerous yes.” She nodded, “But catching Whitlock off guard, that would truly give us an advantage and save the lives of our warriors.” She glanced around the room to the cheers of the men as they clinked their mugs together and ale sloshed about. She lifted her mug to her lips and drank swiftly. She loved the mead of Skajadol. She’d never had a finer tasting mead. It was sweet, but not too much. It must have been the ingredients, perhaps something that only grew here in Skajadol.
She looked down to the child and smiled warmly as she looked over the sleepy features of the babe. “He’s so tiny.” She chuckled as she rocked him slightly to keep him drifting to sleep.
“Ahh he’s calm in your arms.” A familiar voice spoke. “What did I tell you Varmond?” Azariah turned her eyes to see Mag, the old Oracle with a grin plastered upon her lips. “This one is a keeper, hm?” Mag grabbed her own mug of ale and drank deeply before she tore a piece of meat and ate it. “To calm a newborn, now that is a gift.” Mag winked, “Freyja has gifted us, hasn’t she Varmond?” The old Oracle took another drink as her eyes looked to Azariah. “Just as Frigg keeps watchful eyes over you my dear girl.” She grabbed a bread roll and leaned back in her chair.
“Frigg is watching over me?” Azariah questioned a smile curved up her lips. She’d never met Frigg. She still didn’t remember Frigg saving her life from Loki’s poison. Though maybe this is how Frigg wanted it to be? “It is an honor to be watched over by her.” She grabbed a bite of meat and munched on it as she glanced to Mag.
“It is isn’t it? The Goddess of household, motherhood...” She raised a brow as she looked to the child, “Fertility.” She winked and let out a chuckle before she stood. “Don’t look so shocked dear.” Mag noted the pink that had surfaced upon her cheeks. “Perhaps Freyja watches over you as well? I believe the gods are all watching you, dear.” Mag spoke before she walked away.
Azariah glanced to her husband then her silver hues gazed over his features a long moment before she took another long drink of her ale. “I can take him back now. Thank you, Az.” Moira spoke as she approached.
Azariah turned and carefully handed the sleeping child to his mother. “Get some rest, Moira, if you need anything please let Varmond and I know.” She nodded before she turned her attention to the food. Azariah began grabbing food and loading it onto her plate. She let out a soft chuckle. “Mag and her comments, hm?” She glanced to Varmond.
|
|
