Private Tales Endirinn

A private roleplay only for those invited by the first writer
Brenna opened her mouth to give an angry retort then clamped her mouth shut again; it was hard to be angry about a plan you agreed with. She just didn't agree with the tone in which she'd said it. Not that Brenna could hear, of course, but she could tell. She could just tell how it would sound.

"Fine," she muttered and took a deep breathe. Shifting into ones svalen was like shrugging on a winter coat or eating cookies fresh out the oven. In blazing shards of iridescent light the blind woman might have marvelled at if she could see, Bre vanished and in her place stood the towering copper bear. She lowered herself into the snow with a grunt beside Skad and helpfully used one giant paw to sweep her towards her side so she might climb up.
 
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If there was any lingering smugness at Brenna's concession then it was not visible on Skad's face, who still bore her hollow scarred mask, flecked with peeling, dried blood.

Internally, she pondered what the process of bear transformation entailed; most importantly whether or not the Nordenfiir were vulnerable during the process. Not that Kin-Slayer had plans to slay Brenna, but knowing the weakness of the Nordenfiir would be invaluable knowledge. Perhaps once her sight was restored...

...or rather if.

The ursine form of Brenna helped guide Skad, who climbed upon the woman with all the grace and decorum of a rabid badger; pulling herself up with the help of her mount's fur. It wasn't quite the same as riding the Kaldabatur from back home, her straddle wide and awkward.

"You not smell bad as think," Skad kindly offered, before realising that Brenna could no longer read her lips.
 
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Brenna grunted and bit back yelps as Skad all but scalped her left shoulder. Eventually the thuggish woman settled onto her back and the Nordenfiir ambled off, oblivious to the rare compliment from her Northern cousin.

She followed her nose as she had been until Skad had woken up, which was a lot easier without the woman dangling from her mouth. The scent of the mushroom she was seeking was a potent one and if it had been summer it would have no doubt been much easier to find. In winter however, Bre had to take her time to scent where they were hidden beneath the few feet of snow. Despite the slow, lurching pace, the pair made much better time than they would have on human feet and eventually Brenna came to a stop over a particular spot of snow.

It looked just like every other patch of forest but Brenna began to dig furiously, her great paws throwing up great drifts of powdered snow until the first few domes of mushroom began to appear.
 
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As Brenna took off once more, Skad slowly experimented with the best way to sit atop a moving Nordenfiir. At first, she attempted to sit upright, clutching fistfuls of thick fur but swiftly found herself pulling out clumps with every slight jostle. She opted to shift, leaning forward and hugging the beast's back as if the other woman were a giant walking rug.

Kin-Slayer's fingers prodded and probed the hide of the beast while they made their way, trying to gauge how dense Brenna's skin, muscle and fat were while in this form. Could it be cut by a knife? Or would she need something larger, perhaps an axe to bring down such a beast? Not that Skad had any immediate plans, but it was always important to know how to kill, especially in such strange lands as the mainland.

Eventually, they came to a stop and all that the one-eyed woman could offer was silence as she heard the sound of massive paws digging through the snow.

Crack.

A snap of a tree branch from behind. Perhaps some manner of creature traversing through the accursed Draugr Woods. The Nordwiir woman held her breath, trying to focus on the sound behind her and not Bearfucker's burrowing. Instinctively, she looked over her should despite only witnessing the void.

Crunch.

Fresh snow under boots?

Crunch.

More than one, if so.

"Brenna," Skad hissed, before realising that the deaf creature would not hear her, her nose likely overwhelmed by whatever truffle she was snuffling for.

Crunch.

Closer now. How many? Two...

Crunch.

Three.

Crunch.

"BRENNA!" Skad suddenly boomed, turning back and clubbing the ursine woman on the top of the head with her fist to get her attention.
 
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Just a little further...

This part was so delicate. It was the stalks of the mushroom she needed the most and the more of it she had for the soup the better. With upmost care she used a single claw to dig around the cluster of fungi revealing more and more of their speckled stems. She had all but forgotten Skad being on her back.

Steady...

Using the same single claw she began to saw slow and gently at the very base of one of the shrooms. Perhaps it would be easier if she were in her human form, for how was she going to carry them when she had them? They could be quite poisonous if consumed when not cooked first--

The thump on her head made the claw go skidding sideways, cutting one of the shrooms clean in half. With a snarl Brenna turned to look over her shoulder but before she could shout at the woman or - ideally - give her a bite to remind her she was not just cute and fluffy, she caught sight of that which Skad had no doubt heard.

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The beast let out a no doubt ear splitting screech then suddenly rush forward towards its pray.
 
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The noise was inhuman, beyond even the pale tatters of humanity that the undead held. It was not, Draugr, as she had incorrectly assumed but Skad had little time to consider that fact as the monstrous screech pierced her ears and sent her hand straight for her skinning knife.

"WHAT IS IT?!"

She wasn't much for throwing weapons with one eye; so with complete darkness and only a source of sound to aim at, the Nordwiir knew that her defence was one of desperation.

The blind woman flung her blade towards the great, screeching unknown; completely unaware as the the hilt harmlessly bounced off the creature's carapace.

As it came upon the pair, the giant arachnic reared up onto its back legs, and then brought down its front two legs upon them, the tips, great frost-encrusted spears that threatened to impale the golden bear and her rider.
 
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If there hadn't been a rider on her back Brenna might have rolled out of the way. Instead her knee-jerk reaction was to rush towards the spider as it reared then jump onto her belly, using the slope they were on to her advantage to all but slide out the other side of the beast just as its spear-like legs went crashing into the snow. In other circumstances she might have found the mental image of a blind Nordenwiir tobogganing on the back of a Nordenfiir funny but--

IT WAS DESTROYING HER MUSHROOMS.

Brenna was quick back to her feet as the spider shrieked its frustration then worked to yank its front legs out of the ground, having expected to be stabbing into soft supple flesh.

"GET DOWN! RUN! FRYST SPYDER!" she barked. There was no time to give much else nor to check if Skad had actually got off her back before she charged forward once more and seized her chance to sink her teeth into one of the creatures legs and attempt to tear it off.
 
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It might have been exhilarating, riding upon the back of some great beast whilst battling the great unknown within the cursed forest. An erfa that could be passed down through the ages until it was a saga unrecognisable from the first telling.

It wasn't.

Skad was blind, her weapon already thrown, clinging onto and depending upon some stinking enemy of her people, completely unaware of what screeching creature they were facing down. How long had it even been since their skirmish with the villagers? Was her gift still spent? She wasn't forever invulnerable, although Kin-Slayer wouldn't reveal such to a potential fow.

She half-slid, half-fell off of Brenna's back into the snow as she bellowed, revealing the nature of their foe to the blind Nordwiir. A fryst spyder. There was little time to process, as she now sat worthless in the snow.

Another screech.

The Nordenfiir's jaw clamped down upon one of the arachnid's spindly legs, a wet crunching pervading the air as its endoskeleton was torn asunder. In response the beast lunged at Brenna, in a move that would entangle the pair, attempting to sink venomous fangs into the woman's back hide
 
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Whilst Brenna had power in her svalen form, she did not have the same agility she did when a woman. The Fryst Spyder all but knocked her off her paws as it turned and lunged, sending her into a roll that threw up snow into the beasts face. It was only that that saved Brenna from not having both fangs sink into her backside which would paralyse her within seconds. Instead the fang grazed her leaving a thin red cut that felt as though it had been made with a sword heated in the heart of a forge fire.

Brenna gave a howl that then turned into a snarl as she swiped and bit back, looking for any bit of weakness in its tough casing.
 
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While beasts raged, Skad could do little more than shuffle away from the screeches and the howls that erupted forth from what could only great, bestiary violence. Her hands grasped around the snow, fruitlessly searching for her thrown blade in hopes that her instrument of bloodletting would not be lost.

There was a crunch as fearsome canines punctured the hard outer shell of the arachnid, giving rise to foul black blood that would ooze into Brenna's maw.

The screech was deafening, causing Skad to sharply wince and cover her head.

In retaliation, the wounded fryst spyder attempted to reposition its abdomen so that its spinnerets were aimed at the tenacious bear. If unhindered, thick and clinging webs, designed to catch large mammals would be shot at Brenna, in the hopes of tangling the Nordenfiir.
 
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The Nordenfiir was so preoccupied with the seven remaining legs that were attempting to stab at various points of her mammoth body, that she did not think of the web until it was too late. The silken threads caught her hind legs and with a tug from the beast yanked them out from under her giant form. In the same instant it attempted to stab downwards to impale her through the chest. It was by pure luck that Brenna had decided to shift back to her human form and so the spear-like leg once again met nothing but snow.

Brenna grappled with the frog her axe hung from, yanking it free and bringing it down in a wide curve to slash at the sticky web. She bit off a curse as if anything it only seemed to make the whole situation worse. Great bits of web club instead to her axe and covered her hands.

"SKAD!" she shouted desperately as the Spyder yanked its leg free.
 
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The very last thing that the blind woman wished to hear was the human-sounding shout of Brenna requiring aid. The Nordenfiir did not realise that Skad's hallowed blood had a price to pay and at that moment in time, Haraudur's chalice had not been filled. She was just as mortal, and while dying did not frighten Kin-Slayer...

...dying to save a bearfucker was a fucking mockery.

This was the way of Spotta, the supreme cunt goddess of trickery. It had to be. Skad snarled in an unusual display of frustration, rising to her feet as if she were rising to meet Spotta's eight-legged derision manifested.

<"IDIOT FUCKING BEAR! WHAT GOOD ARE YOU!?"> Kin-Slayer bellowed in her terrifying native tongue, catching the fryst spyder's attention as the beast hesitated to check what manner of creature was screaming at its flank, <"YOU ARE SUPPOSED TO EAT OUR ENEMIES! WHERE IS THIS DEMON, I WILL FUCKING EAT IT MYSELF!">

As Skad, the living rucus blindly staggered in the direction of the battle, she had, at the very least, provided a brief distraction for Brenna.
 
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Brenna wasn't entirely sure what she had expected Skad to do. Maybe throw a rock, or more preferably the axe which had hilariously only landed a few inches away in the opposite direction to where she had looked. It certainly was not for the woman to blindly staffer forward holding... a stick. It couldn't even really be classed as a branch, a branch would have certainly made her feel a little better about their chances. The stick wavered in the frosty breeze and the single leaf still attached trembled as the Spyder turned to carelessly throw its leg towards the Nordenwiir.

The Nordenfiir took what she was given though. It gave her a precious moment to think and calm enough that the webs stopped getting so tangled and she was able to slice her legs apart from one another. The webs still clung making it harder to move but at least she could move. Clambering to her feet she decided not to change back least the web stick to her fur which would make her movements more sluggish. Instead she used the few seconds left of the Spyder having its head turned to run underneath and leap up, aiming her axe into the soft underside of its belly.
 
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The literal blind fury of Skad ran rampant in the snow, causing her to feel akin to the Óráð; frenzied berserkers that brought nought but death, all in the name of their chosen Goddess, Dauða. Perhaps she only felt this way because death seemed certain.

<"I WILL DRINK YOU FUCKING HOLLOW, AND THEN I-">

An unseen force blasted her in the chest, swatting the Nordwiir away like the proverbial gnat and sending her careening into a tree with a heavy thud, the impact of which dumped snow upon her crumpled form.

Not ideal, but she was still alive.

However, her distraction had proved vital, as Brenna the Bearfucker pounced upon the opportunity, wielding her axe to split open the belly of the beast, causing black blood to burst forth in what could only be the killing blow. The fryst spyder teetered on the seven remaining legs that hadn't been savaged by the Nordenfiir before finally collapsing with a screech that slowly faded into a rattle.
 
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Brenna let out a shrill, girly yelp as black blood drenched her from head to toe. Usually being covered in the gore of her enemy was quite satisfying, proof that she had done the work of her Gods, but what came out of the Spyder reeked enough to make her heave. On top of that, having pierced the Spyder from underneath, she hadn't entirely thought through what would happen when it died above her. The giant beasts legs gave way and it all but crushed the Nordenfiir who squirmed out from underneath cursing the Seven Faced Trickster Mohini.

Once free, Brenna used some of the snow to wash the blood from her eyes then spat what had got into her mouth onto the floor.

Horrible things, she silently muttered to herself, kicking the dead thing for good measure before finally looking round for Skad.

"You alive?" she asked candidly as she limped over.
 
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A brief glimmer of nostalgia came alongside a violent concussion in the snow, reminiscent of times long dead fuelled by gallons of sýru and an unbridled, savage fervour. However, in this circumstance, Skad felt less fucked by her own people and more fucked by the Gods themselves.

She emerged from the snow; a blinded sprout to the voice of the bearfucker, the victor of what had undoubtedly been a feral fight.

Not that Skad would have known.

"You find what seek?" the Nordwiir asked abruptly, immediately focusing on why they had come here in the first place. Herbs? Mushrooms? Truffles? A place for the woman to plug up her arsehole and sleep for two seasons? She stood, grunting as her body objected to further ordeal.

"Where my weapon?"
 
Brenna sighed.

I'm fine too, thanks, she thought to herself as she limped across the snow covered forest floor to the knot of twisted roots she had last seen Skad's knife disappearing in the direction of. It had landed point first down into one particularly knotted root and Bre cursed quietly as her blood slick hands struggled to pull it free. It was just as the knife finally gave that she then spotted what she had been looking for this whole time. Red caps poked through the snow and after deftly pushing away the snow Brenna was able to retrieve five whole Gaesher Shrooms.

"Here's your knife," she took Skad's hand and placed the hilt with care into her palm. "And yes, I found the mushrooms. If these don't cure your sight then..." well then they needed a mage or the intervention of the Gods themselves.
 
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Wrapping calloused fingers around the hilt of the blade, the Nordwiir considered Brenna's words; the prospect of a sightless existence. A brand new weight of worthlessness sat heavy in the shadow of the fight with the fryst spyder, where she had been as useful as a eunuch at an orgy and reliant on the strength of a disabled fucking Nordenfiir.

"Then I die," Skad declared in her customary matter-of-fact tone. If her blindness was indeed Spotta's bane then it was not adversity to be triumphed but a mockery with no purpose other than delight in the suffering.

"Do you needing make cook?" Kin-Slayer inquired as if she hadn't just declared her own demise, fully prepared to gift a life's worth of pressure into Brenna's earnest hands, "Or we do it raw?"
 
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Brenna pursed her lips together but did not correct her. From what little she knew about Nordwiir there would be little she could do to stop Skad if she wanted to take her own life, though she would attempt to convince her otherwise. Her own conscious would not allow her to do any less.

"Cook. With other herbs in a drink," she explained as best she could in the Common Tongue aloud. Her hands still instinctively curled to make the right signs to form her sentences even now. Taking the woman's hand she began to tug her. "Away from blood, will attract other animals," and more if the stories of this forest were to be believed.

Brenna led her blind charge on for another mile further north where rocks formed some form of protection against the winds which had begun to pick up, whipping snow up into the air. Along their way she had collected a few branches and now she set about placing them right to spark a fire.

"Are you hurt? From the Spyder?"
 
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There was a whisper of humiliation at the very act of being led through the forest hand-in-hand by a bearfucker as if she were a child. Mercifully, Skad wasn't a creature built on a strong sense of emotional self-worth, merely a vassal of the Dark Gods that did what needed to be done.

Although a thought was spared towards Brenna, and more specifically her motivation for going to such lengths to help her. Had Skad come across her own dying carcass in the streets she would have simply finished the job.

It was a conundrum that the inherited Nordwiir distrust couldn't quite fathom.

"Not problem. Always hurt," Skad answered, as she stood uselessly next to her industrious carer, "hurt is good."

Internally she tried to translate a detailed explanation to the Nordenfiir as to why pain was a sacred gift but ultimately came up short.

"Pain is meaning you are alive," she grunted in place of eloquence, before folding her arms across her chest and looking in the other woman's approximate direction, "why working so hard to helping me? I kill, you not like but still helping?"
 
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In an odd fashion, Brenna agreed with Skad. Not that she was going to say that aloud. Besides, Skad's question troubled her more.

Looking away from the woman's lips she busied herself with building up the fire instead. Why did she persist in trying to help this woman? She had nearly gotten Brenna killed twice now. She fished the small pot out of her satchel and then set it atop the flames with some snow which soon melted. Finally, as she settled back on her heels she looked back up at the woman.

"Once, one of your kin showed me great kindness. They gave me my hearing back. Only for a day but... it is a day I will cherish forever. I said I would pay it forward."

The Gods just had a sick sense of humour to make that repayment Skad.
 
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Skad listened, the whistling winds of winter surrounding Brenna's words as the pair stood in their small measure of shelter. Her face remained an unbending wall of scars at the revelation but her mind carefully considered such a tale. The bearfucker's temporarily restored hearing was very much on the plane of reality, however, the notion of any Nordwiir showing 'great kindness' was ludicrous bordering on lunacy.

"Lie," she declared abruptly, carefully stepping towards the sensation of burgeoning flames that warmed her shins, "who show soothmoother kindness? Not Nordwiir."

Pay it forward evaded her grasp of the language but from context, Skad could gather that a kindness received was a kindness gifted onwards. A strange ethos to wield but foreigners were so often very strange.

"I pay it forward by not killing."

At least while she was with Brenna.

Well, only when she was with Brenna.

For now.
 
Brenna scowled.

"I do not lie," she made sure to put as much emphasis as she could on that last word without shouting, which was a hard thing to do for someone who couldn't hear the words she spoke. "His name was Kol."

There was a running joke amongst the Nordenfiir that whenever they met a Southerner and said Southerner had met another of their kind before, they would always ask whether or not they knew each other, assuming their large island was in fact a single shack like village. She couldn't help but feel the same now though, thinking that Skad might know of the mysterious man she had met twice now. Once they had even fought together.

She angrily stirred the herbs in to the now melted snow.
 
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Skad had apparently, from the tone of Brenna's voice, struck a virtuous nerve in her accusation. It was interesting to note, like seeing a psychological glance of an exposed throat. Even blinded Kin-Slayer sought weakness in those around her. Of course, the Nordenfiir's objection could have very well been a further lie, but to what poi-

Kol.

Kol Twice-Bloodied, the Voice of the Dark Gods who would unify warring tribes and look beyond the scope of their barren isle. Of course, Skad knew him; she had been a part of his Hæfurkappi, his Warband, killed with him, killed for him before forming her own warband at his behest on a cursed conquest south; dashed on the rocks. Drowned souls and slit throats.

The silence lingered, punctuated by the bearfucker's exaggerated stirring.

It was a sign, but from whom? From the Dark Gods themselves? Or from the Sorcerer that communed with them? The woman felt unease as doubt took shape in the form of such questions causing her hand to travel towards the knife at her side.

Who really was Brenna, and what role did she have to play in the game of fate?

"I know Kol," Skad stated stoically as if there were no inner crisis to be seen, staying her hand and refolding her arms once more, "why did he do great kindness to you? What you giving him?"
 
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It was the move of her hand to the knife that made Brenna glance up and catch her next words. Her lips pursed, eyes darting back towards the knife, before looking down at the mushrooms. So, she knew Kol. But was he her enemy or her friend? A Nordenwiir reaching for her blade wasn't a sure indicator of either. From what little she knew of their twisted Northern Brothers and Sisters, the tribes were a chaotic shambles who enjoyed killing one another as much as Southerners. It could be Kol was from some rival tribe and Brenna had just signed her death warrant by mentioning him.

"I shared my meal," that was the only thing she had offered before he had given her her hearing. "I taught him Signs," she raised her hands and demonstrated the same sentence in her own language, such as it was. "We shared stories. When I met him the second time, we fought together against Frost Wyrms."

With a shrug she began to chop the mushrooms.
 
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