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Njáll

The Crimson
Noct Yaegir
Messages
29
Character Biography
Link
Echo Falls - The Reach

"Vyekkelis." Njáll said as he used the butt of his hatchet to prod one of the corpses strewn about the village. His eyes casting over the hunks of meet that had been torn and stripped away. Thrown aside as though they were offal not worth consuming.

"Fuck off." The grating voice of Turos echoed out behind him. The leather of his armor creaking as he slung himself off his horse and trudged over towards the Nordwiir. His eyes casting on the scene consideringly. "We've been here five minutes, these people are barely whole, how the shit could you tell a thing about what's been here?"

Njáll glanced back towards his companion, face an uneven mask.

He did not like Turos, generally speaking.

The man was a good enough hunter, but he never stopped complaining. Every second word was about how miserable the road was or how his haunches hurt from riding all day. If he'd just shut the fuck up, Turos would practically be his favorite partner to work with. Mostly because he let the Nordwiir take the lead.

"Liver is gone." The northerner said as he nudged more of the flesh to the side. "Ripped with claws, not teeth."

Slowly he stood, glancing at his companion. "Let's check for Survivors. Doubt it got the whole village."

Turos grunted, unable to argue with the line of thinking. Vyekkelis weren't exactly known for their merciful ways, but nor were they particularly intelligent. A good enough hiding place would keep someone safe, even if an entire pack has hit the village. "I'll check the tavern."

He stated plainly, heading off before the other man could argue.
 
An armored figure hunched over another corpse, though this victim was not quite as fortunate as many of the others. While their deaths had all come brutally, the others died swiftly in comparison. A gloved hand moved to her waist, pulling a small knife from her hip. It was for more practical uses, such as splitting food or cutting twine, but this night that blade would be a tool of mercy for a suffering girl, barely a teenager.

"This will hurt, but for just a moment," Emmeline said, and though her words were meant in earnest, there was a distinct lack of any real emotion in them. It was as if the former guardswoman compartmentalized her emotions, if any were present at all.

Guide the point of the blade to the girl's temple, Emmeline thrust her arm sharply, penetrating her skull and driving the blade into her brain. Then, setting the now deceased youth carefully upon the ground, she rose to her feet. Droplets of blood dripped from the flat of the blade as her arm fell to her side. Her head lifted at the sound of others and she looked toward Njall and Turos.

"What did this?" she demanded, as if expecting the pair to know.
 
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Njáll stopped just short of the tavern as he stepped by Emmeline, pausing for a brief moment as he considered, then answered simply. "Vyekkelis."

The gruff words of the Nordwiir might have seemed almost standoffish, but that was simply the mans ways.

"Leeches." He could not describe the creatures any other way. Some called the beasts Vampires, but they had none of the elegance that such creatures found their myths shourded in. A Vyekkelis had only one drive, one function, killing and consuming.

The liver was to them as Blood was to many other monsters. "They will be close by still."

He continued.

"I do not suggest being on your own." Whether that was the Northman's version of an invitation to follow was difficult to tell. But he did not linger in the street, and instead began to stalk towards the half-collapsed inn. The axe in his hand flickering to his proper grip.
 
Leeches. That name was far more familiar to Emma. She pinched her tongue between her teeth, watching Njall step past her in his turn toward the inn. There was something about his movement, the brevity of his words that amused the woman. She was not one of many herself, and that was why succumbing to the call of the blade and servitude to others was her way of life.

"Neater, where I come from," she said, the words barely audible above the crunch of snow under their feet. Emma didn't consider whether it was an offer to follow: he made a suggestion and seeing as how she'd just taken the last breaths from a dying girl, there wasn't exactly anyone else to follow but the pair.

She lifted her arm, sliding the blade along the crook of her arm where only cloth breached the gap between plates of metal. Clearing it of as much blood as she could, she slipped it back into its holster at her hip.

Near the inn, a broadsword lay plunged into the earth and as they drew close, Emma approached it. Her hands, small but strong, curled around its hilt and almost effortlessly, the guard turned warrior pulled her cherished blade from the ground and cast it over her shoulder and across her back.

"There's nothing alive," is all she said when they crossed the threshold, the woman lingering closer to the door. She'd gotten her fill of the gore--it reminded her too much of her own past.
 
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Njall pressed inside the doorway regardless of the life left within. His gaze sweeping over the inside of the tavern and the graveyard within.

Emmeline was completely right.

Like the rest of the town the Inn was the sight of a slaughter. A dozen or so lay dead within, each of them rent to a pulp. The darkness of the day did not allow him the best look, but one did not need clear sight to get a picture of what had happened here. "They ate well."

The Northman commented, frowning ever so slightly before he half turned in the doorway back towards his new companion.

"It'll make finding them ha-" Before he could get the last of his words free, something within the tavern moved. He heard a loud scrape against the wooden floors, and as he whirled a figure suddenly darted towards him.

A hulking mass of gray flesh and blackened claws darted forward. The monstrous form of one of the degenerate vampires hurtling at Njall within the span of a breath. The Nordwiir pulling up his hatchet just in time to catch the creatures maw upon it's hilt.

Snapping jaws bearing down at him as the two went crashing into the ground, splattering mud and cold water across Emmeline as the two went falling down.
 
Emmeline kept her lips parted just enough that she did not have to bear the heavy, coppery stench of the inn-turned-abatoir's innards. From just a few steps inside, the sound behind as her had the warrior turning on booted heel. She was not as quick to jump into the fray as monster and man tumbled into snow melted only by the warmth of the formerly living. Dark specks of mud and congealing blood splattered the woman's face, but she seemed entirely unbothered.

When it came to two bodies gripping one another with the want to end each other's life, introducing a broadsword was not the most delicate task. One slight miscalculation, as with any weapon and others in the way, Emma could completely and utterly miss. With practiced balance and shifting of her weight, the warrior pulled her blade from its strap with the same unusual grace that had seemingly plucked it back from the ground.

The blade was heavy, but her gloves were made to withstand its edge through most minor cuts. Suddenly, bringing the blade level to the ground and maintaining that lowered position, she charged the short distance from door way to wrestling things, and drove her blade into the side of the creature's torso. A sudden shift in weight had her feet sliding against her momentum as she suddenly arched the blade upward, sweeping the writhing creature off Njall. As the blade arced back down toward the ground, the vampire's bloodied body slid off her sword and landed just a couple feet away.

An unearthly howling noise, a desperate cry for any of its pack that might still be near, loosed its lips and the warrior moved quickly, bringing a heavy boot down on the thing's skull with a crunching squelch. For good measure, she dug her heel in before looking back at the other.

"They are different," she acknowledged, as if confirming her earlier statement solely for her own ears. Once she was certain the creature would not rise again, she brought her sword upward to rest against her shoulder. Green eyes swept back and forth, hot air escaping her lips as she sought to ease her breathing once more. Snow crunched under her foot as she returned to the Nordwiir's side.

"How heavy was it?" she asked, offering a gloved hand downward toward him. Before he could answer though, she retracted her hand to leave him to get back to his feet on his own. She could hear crunching just outside the edges of the village. "More come."
 
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A breath drew into the Nordwiir's lungs, and he gave an appreciative nod up towards Emmeline as she offered him a hand. The silent acknowledgment that without her help, he very likely would have ended up with a tooth in his skull.

He reached up to grasp her hand, but heard the howl before her hand snapped away.

In an instant Njall shifted, rolling his weight to the side and scrambling quickly to his feet. His second hatchet quickly pulled free from the loop on his belt, and his voice boomed out among the buildings. "TUROS!"

The Nordwiir called to the other Hunter.

At home, there was no tribe, no family that one sacrificed himself for. In the Lost Isles it was every warrior for themselves. Survival was what mattered most. The Dark Gods had preached that fact from the second his people had been born.

Yet in the Summerlands it was different. Here the Dark Gods did not watch so closely, and so Njall would do his best to keep those with him alive. "To Us!"

As he shouted, the first of the creatures suddenly whirled around one of the nearby buildings. It's haunches thick with muscle throwing itself forward directly at where Emmeline stood. A hatchet suddenly flying by her head, and burying itself in the creatures skull.

"Get inside!" He called. "So they can't surround us!"
 
The force of the hatchet might have dealt with the creature, but it did not stop its momentum. As the monster crashed into Emmeline's armored body, she took several steps back. That answered her query about its weight. Removing one hand from the hilt of her blade, she shoved the creature away as her back collided with the door frame of the inn. When Njall yelled for Turos, her green stare twisted in the direction she'd last seen the other hunter.

Fortunately, he came--but there was something, no somethings on the heel of the man. With her own adversary dead courtesy of the Nordwiir, her free hand immediately turned to her blade. She was the closest to the door into the establishment, so she refused to be the first that entered. It was moments like this where the warrior cursed her lack of bow--and even more her lack of any skill with it. Breathing inwardly deeply, it was the woman's turn to bellow at Turos, and gods it was loud for such a small statured warrior. Perhaps that was the real reason she had been part of the city watch.

"DUCK!" she yelled, not all that confident with her throwing abilities either. None the less, she allowed her great sword to sink toward the ground as she reached to her waist for the very blade she'd ended the unfortunate youth with. No other warnings were offered as tugged the knife free and suddenly hurled it, seemingly right at the hunter. Gods, she hoped he ducked, 'cause the blade was certainly going to sink into something, it was just a matter of what.

Returning her hand to her blade, she swung it upward and back to her shoulder to rest and she finally looped around the corner and into the building. "Hurry!" she called sharply, propping her blade against the inner wall while she reached for the heaviest thing she could find to barricade the entrance once the two were in.
 
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Turos ducked, no, it was more accurate to say he fell. Dashing into the muck and mud and sliding just as Emmeline's blade slipped over his head and into one of the monsters. Njall let out an impressed whistle, reaching out to grab the other Hunter's arm and pulling him up and off the ground.

"Go!" He ushered just after his companion pulled out her greatsword once more.

Within seconds he and Turos both turned, whirling themselves forward and practically jumping through the open door of the building. As Emmeline darted inside after them, she would find Njall already moving one of the tables.

With her help the Nordwiir threw it against the closed doorway, a loud thud echoing out seconds later as one of the creatures crashed against the barricades. "Windows."

He pointed out, but it was already too late.

"Fuck me, these things are quick." Turos complained as he pulled the crossbow from his back and quickly threw a bolt into it's strut. The loud twang ringing out as he let loose a bolt and buried it into one of the creatures skulls.

"They'll keep coming as long as the Alpha is alive." Njall said as he began to quickly look around the Inn, darting towards the bar. "We need to lure it out."

The Nordwiir called to his companions as he began to scoop up bottles of liquor and scraps of tablecloth.
 
Emmeline was grateful that Turos heard her--though his drop seemed to be a bit harder than she'd expected. That worked in his favor though, because if he hadn't hit the ground as fast as he did, it might very well have been his skull that her knife plunged into. Then, they were moving. Njall assisted Turos to his feet and as the two men barreled past her and into the ruined establishment, the warrior swept up her blade with unnatural ease, a comfort born of countless hours of training with it.

It just sucked that it wasn't practical for quick-paced combat, and it was for that reason that Emma wore the armor she did. Hefting the blade up with both hands, she charged in after the others, moving quickly past both as Njall moved to barricade the door. His call of a threat at the windows preceded the movement of her gaze by what felt like a fraction of a second. For all the lethargy that came with lugging around such huge arms, the warrior was every bit as alert as someone more agile than she. There was room for the woman to learn to dance with smaller blades, but it wasn't a thought that occurred to her--nor would it now.

The first window to break was not the one that Emmeline was looking at, but she heard the thud of Turos's arrow as it struck true. That was when she saw the faint shadow outside the one she was watching, a clear sign that it would be the next one breached. Hoisting her blade up again, the warrior drew up alongside the window just as it cracked and one of the creatures burst through the glass. Sharp corners tore at its flesh, but it was not a serious wound and did little to distract the fiend.

As its nostrils flared, Emmeline brought her blade down with a sudden, loud splitting of flesh, bone, and wood. The creature's head fell, bouncing freely from its throne to rest like a bauble at Njall's feet. Perhaps even in time to be crunched as the hunter went for alcohol with which to craft a bomb, Emma assumed. She'd seen that particular trick more times than she could count.

Remaining at the window and ready to be head another one of the monsters should it come through, the warrior's hard green stare swept beyond both men and the remnants of what might have been the inside of a fairly decent establishment at one point.

"How does your plan work?" she asked, though if there was meant to be any intonation in her voice, it was lacking. "Will the fire draw the alpha?"
 
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"No." Njall answered quickly as he threw his hatchet onto the bar as he quickly began to work.

Bottle after bottle was uncorked, the heaviest of the alcohols poured quickly over the rags he'd taken as he began to craft the flaming cocktails. "But killing enough of the beasts will."

Though the Leeches were not exactly intelligent, they were pack animals. Working together was within their nature, though only so they might gather themselves a greater feast. The Alpha would come calling, but only when it was clear that those below it could not make the kill.

"Turos!" He called to the other Hunter as he reloaded his crossbow. "Flint."

The other hunter swore, but quickly threw the small metal sparker towards his companion. Quickly lighting two of the bottles. "The screams will help."

Njall said, offering Emmaline the first crack of a smile before he turned on his heel and threw the bottle out one of the windows. The cascading alcohol catching into a burst of flame as the bottle struck one of the creatures. It's skin sizzling, and it's maw opening in a cry of pain.
 
Emma couldn't argue with Njall's logic, and something about that seemed to result in a wrinkling of her nose. Her lips thinned as she grimaced and she leaned around the corner of the window quickly enough to catch a glimpse if anything was coming, but not so slow as to lose an eye to flying, sharpened claw. A screech echoed through the window just as her head dipped back and this time, her reflexes brought the massive blade upward, knees bending so that she could shift her force into the upward strike.

The creature's skull fell away like the one that had come before it, but not before thick blood spattered the woman's face. It reeked, but then she'd never been fond of that smell before. Especially when it was fresh; she could handle bodies dead long enough to be cool to the touch, but something about fresh corpses still turned her stomach. The sheer fact the monsters appeared humanoid was almost enough to trigger that repulsion.

"Then you better h--" the rest of her statement cut short as the alcohol laden, cloth filled bottle flew through the window just a little further from her just as another creature burst through it. The howling terror that erupted from the creature, followed by the smell of burning flesh and hair, assaulted her nose.

A second creature tried to stop before it collided with the flaming torch that was once its brethren and flailed backward as the alcohol that spilled over the snow outside the window came alive with flickering orange light. It licked at the wall of the establishment, and in Emma's gut she knew the building would catch fire before they were done tonight.

Another howl, this one more commanding, echoed from the distance, but it increased in volume with unnatural speed as the master of this group called out in fury. Emmeline's green gaze flicked toward Njall.

"That one doesn't sound happy," she stated, not caring how obvious her observation was to the others. To Turos, she asked, "Is he always so creative when it comes to slaughter?"
 
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The hunter let out a bark of a laugh. "It's that northern blood!"

Njall did not even seem to notice the other pair shouting about him as he swept through the room. Hatchet in one hand and fire-bomb in the other. He rushed through the maze of tavern tables and moved towards another of the open windows. The clawing beast there finding itself victim to both axehead and flame as the Nordwiir sunk his weapon into it's skull.

"Comes with a touch of madness I hear!" Turos couldn't help the grin that split his face. The man had worked with Njall often enough now to know his tactics weren't always...safe. For the northman, a job was a job, and one had to do whatever they could to get it done.

As he called out, flames began to lick at the tavern walls. "Careful you don't tra-"

Before the other Hunter could finish his sentence, there was a sudden creak, and then a loud crash as the front of the tavern exploded.

Pieces of timber and shards of wood splashed outward as the doorway and the barricade behind it were shattered into a thousand pieces. Not by a bottle of flame, but by a hulking mass of muscle and death. The Alpha of the leeches bursting through the wall with a crashing roar. It's great maw unhinging as it let out a roar that shouted for naught but death. "Seems the creativity worked."

Njall commented dryly, a rare grin spreading over his lips.
 
A smirk almost touched the corner of Emmeline's mouth, despite all the gore, smoke, and that putrid stench that lingered around them. Quick to assume that Njall hadn't heard Turos, she was caught off guard by the sound that quickly approached from without the tavern. Flames licked at the walls as the other hunter opened his mouth to echo her unspoken sentiment, and just as he was doing so the alpha of these feral vampire things burst through the door.

Whether she'd have to avoid being struck by a splinter never had reason to cross Emma's mind. Yet a thick, sharp sliver of wood cut across her left cheek anyways. Her skin stung as blood oozed to the surface through a thin wound. She took in a sharp breath of air and heaved her blade once more.

Her slipping around the room was done with surprising grace, the woman's command of such a heavy weapon almost remarkable. She let Njall remain the focus at present as she sought a more advantageous angle. It was then that she heard Njall's comment and that fleeting tease of a smirk widened into something a little more genuine. The Nordwiir's eagerness for battle was admirable, but that was something that could be addressed when they weren't at the mercy of a savage beast.

Bending slighting, the warrior pushed herself forward not unlike a swimmer off of a wall in the water. With that lunge, she brought her blade upward, swinging it first to her side. A mighty downward swing of the two-handed sword brought it to bite at the monster's flesh.
 
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The blade sunk into an inch of the alpha’s flesh. Emmeline’s greatsword tearing into the thick bark like skin with strength enough that it should have brought forth a river of that brackish blood. Yet Instead, the blade seemed to bury itself within the monstrous form as it's skin began to meld back together over the steel.

Njäll’s eyes opened wide as he saw the recovering flesh. A curse echoing his lips as his stance shifted and the hatchet in his hand flipped. ”Emmeline!”

He called to catch her attention, then tossed her the hatchet.

”Cut it free!” The Nordwiir called to her as he reached behind the small of his back and pulled free another of his axes. Then, he threw himself forward. Bellowing a cry of battle as the Alpha teared back and let out a roar of its own. Eyes forced upon the charging Northman.

It's claw raked down at him, nails biting into flesh and leaving four great gashes along his chest.

Pain lance through Njäll, his face a grimace as his hatchet came burying down onto the arm that had struck him. The axe head digging into the beasts flesh, and then sticking into place as it's skin began to almost immediately healed. The Northman grinning as he grabbed the hatchet’s handle, and then used it to wrench the creature down. Pulling into to the earth with the weight of his body so Turos and Emmeline would find it easier to strike it's head.
 
An ax was nearly the farthest from Emmeline's first choice of weapons, but when she watched that skin knit itself back together of the width of her sword, she felt terror not unlike that that plagued her when she watched her parents die. It was too unnatural to witness first hand, and nothing like any of the books she'd read on creatures. Nonetheless, the woman let go of her sword with one hand to catch the hatchet by its haft before immediately seeking to use its blade to sever the flesh and sinew as it regenerated.

It took longer than she would have liked, but as Njall forced the alpha to bow before him, Emmeline dropped the hatchet, returned her hand to her sword, and ripped it upward finally freeing it. A step back and she braced herself to keep from stumbling before taking advantage of the hunter's position. Her gaze swept to Turos to ensure he wasn't too close as she lunged toward them and brought the blade down over shoulder to sever the creatures head with a loud, fast, heavy thud that bit into the floorboards beneath them.

Her heart pounded in her chest, which heaved with labored breath. She didn't dare pull her blade back up for fear that the head might still be too near the corpse of the creature.

"Might ought to move it away, if it's like most other 'leeches'."
 
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The hunter's words were nearly lost in an echo of screams as the other leeches began to cry bloody murder. Their heinous shouts calling out as they turned on their heels and began to flee. Scrambling across wooden floors and clawing at the burning windows to escape.

Turos' eyes opened wide at Emmeline's warning, as though he'd not even considered the thought. Without a second of hesitation he turned and kicked the head away. A solid thwack echoing out as the beasts skull flew across the room and crashed against one of the flaming corpses.

As it landed, fire lanced over to dried undead flesh. The air continuing to fill with the acrid black smoke.

"Well done, Lass." Njall said as he wrenched his hatchet free from the beasts Flesh. Turning on his heel as tossing the weapon at another one of the fleeing creatures. A thunk echoing out as it toppled to the floor.

It was difficult to tell how many of the beasts were left, but it could not have been more than a dozen.

Each rushed to whatever exit they could find, scrambling to escape. Turos shot a bolt another, but most of them would crawl free. "We'll have to find the rest."

The other Hunter remarked, and Njall nodded.

"Aye, but better to find what brought them here first." He suggested, glancing around the burning tavern. "And perhaps not burn to death."

The Nordwiir suggested with a laugh.
 
A chill shot down Emmeline’s spine, something about the sound of the creatures in retreat unsettling her deeply. The woman heard a lot of unusual noises, leaving Alliria and the odd comfort of the outer city came with a host of new experiences. This was yet another of many that would come.

The stench of burning flesh and hair was one Emmeline was familiar with, and her nose wrinkled as she tried to pretend that it wasn’t overwhelming her senses. If she heard Njall’s commendation, it didn’t show on her face. The woman was oddly stoic as the flickering flames glimmered in her pale green eyes.

Turos’s statement drew her gaze toward him and she lifted her chin faintly. “Aye,” she agreed. She shifted her weight, crouching as she wrapped her hands around the pommel of her sword. Flexing, she pulled it with a grunt from the floor. Practiced ease an familiarity with her own armaments led to the blade coming at rest once more against her shoulder.

Without another word, the woman moved out of the inn, stepping over the debris from the vampiric monsters bursting through the door.

"Do you think they’ll return here?" the woman asked, turning slightly to glance over her shoulder. She caught Njall’s faint smile just as it vanished. "These creatures nest, yes? It might do us well to rest as well. Perhaps one ought to seek a suitable home to borrow."

For a woman clearly unused to combat with the more fantastical creatures, the warrior seemed horrifically un-phased by the torn bodies strewn around them.
 
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Njall followed after his companion, Turos shortly after his heel. Stopping only for a second to recover a few of the bolts that had managed to remain intact after striking the creatures.

"Good idea." The Nordwiir commented as Emmeline thought to find somewhere to rest for the evening. "Edge of town, I would think."

The fires would no doubt spread, but that would not necessarily be the worst thing. The flames would at least keep away any scavengers who might still come calling, and after what had happened here, he doubted anyone would return to resettle. "Whether they return depends on what brought them."

Njall said with a frown as he motioned to his companions to head towards one of the homes on the outer edges of the settlement.

"I've only been in the Summerlands for a year." He explained to Emmeline. "I have learned much, but not all there is to know. Vyekkelis are drawn by many things. Ill-buried corpses, dark magics, sometimes simply bad luck."

A shrug rolled over his shoulder. "We will have to investigate in the morning."
 
If she felt any joy at their agreement to rest first, it once again escaped her features. Her pale green gaze continued to move over now vacant buildings surrounded by gore and reeking of death and blood. There was little else for the woman to acknowledge now that the immediate threat was taken care of. Her ears attuned to the silence beyond their voices, listening in case there were survivors they managed to miss.

Her brow furrowed, and when they reached one of the outer homes which appeared strangely unscathed considering, she turned her head slightly to respond to Njall a little more openly:

"I was born and raised in Alliria, never had reason to leave," she offered, indicating that her knowledge outside the city and its inhabitants and events was likely less helpful than his own. She did not know the terrors of the world, only the horrors of the so-called civilized. And yet, was it not unusual murders that had brought her to this town?

The woman shouldered open the door to the home they'd approached, taking no time to call and verify that it was empty. She had a feeling its inhabitants were closer to the town's center when the creatures struck--and she was right. The house was oddly pristine and entirely vacant. It was small, two rooms for sleeping, one for dining, and another for whatever way this family idled away their time.

"I'll take first watch."
 
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"Ah, so you have experience with a different kind of monster." Njall said, flashing her a quick grin as they stepped into the confines of the small house.

Back in the Isles, something of this size would have been considered a manor. Most of his kind lived in homes barely scraped from the earth. Not because they preferred it, but because of the protection the earth itself afforded.

The Monsters of his home made easy work of wooden walls. "I'll eat first."

He said to Emmeline before Turos pushed passed him and headed towards one of the bedrooms.

"You do that, I'm going to sleep." The Other Hunter offered only a wave before he headed into the back of the house and left his two other companions alone.

"Ration?" The Northman asked as he plucked his satchel from his back and threw it onto the table. Quickly digging through it's confines before he dug out what looked to be some dried meat and hardtack.
 
Emmeline's jaw tightened, fighting the smirk that threatened to take her lips. "Yeah, different breeds. At least one acts more for survival, and less for want of coin," she agreed. Her gaze watched Turos move past, and her body ached to be free of its entrapment. A bath would be necessary too, to wash the blood from her skin. She glanced back to Njall.

"Can't say I'm all that hungry. I think I'm going to clean up. Enjoy a few hours blood free, at least," she offered. Nonetheless a glance was cast toward the jerky and tack, almost wistfully. She didn't have the appetite, after holding that dying girl. How could she?

Exhaustion writ itself upon her features clearly and she offered at thin, dry smile. Then she too moved beyond, taking the stairs up for one of the other rooms.



OOC: Cut here, new thread, or keep going? Sorry for the slow response!
 
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Njall tilted his head in a nod.

He did not know the men of the south as he did those in the Isles, but there was no split of greed. At home they did not trade in gold or coin, like the summerlands did, but that did not mean he was a stranger to the avarice of his fellow man.

It was the rule of the Lost Isles after all, if someone had something you wanted; take it.

"Fair enough." The Nordwiir said with a shrug as she denied the meal. Though he pointedly left some of the hard tack on a plate he took from one of the cabinets to the side. Perhaps for her, or perhaps for Turos.

No one could ever excuse him of not being thoughtful. "I'll wake you when its your watch."

The Nordwiir said as he reached into his satchel and began to take out his pipe. "Though with any luck, it'll be a quiet night."

Njall said just as Emmeline headed up the stairs.

(I think continuing in the thread works just fine unless you'd like to break it up into multiples. Feel free to DM me if you want to plan.

And No worries!)
 
It was the early hours of the morning, and watch shifted only a few hours before. It was Njall's turn to sleep, and thinking that Turos probably needed more as well, the once-guard with a penchant for overnight shifts found herself reminiscing about her days within the city. Sure, she could barely afford the small home that sat just at the line between the slums and the more acceptable commoners.

A small tumbler and a bottle of something that was probably alcoholic sat on the table, whatever small bits of liquid clinging to the glass hardly enough to tell its contents from any distance other than nose-in. She wasn't by any means drunk, but that vaguely familiar burn was nice nonetheless and precious little coin could be spare din her travels.

Yawning quietly, the woman stood to her feet and walked toward the door, snagging her blade en route to meeting with the darkness outside. It was time to run the perimeter of the home, which dwarfed her own, and she wasn't the sort to neglect duty. She was almost back to the door when her ears picked up a distant cry. It was not unlike a bloodcurdling screech. An answering call came from a different direction and a third formed a triangle to eclipse the house.

Her step quickened to a near full-out run, slowing only as she crossed the threshold into the manse and quietly shut the door behind her. She knew the cries if only from the night before when she'd danced with true monsters for the first time. Not daring to be without her blade, which was suddenly more of a hindrance than it'd ever been before, she shifted it's flat to allow for better management. Emmeline took the steps two at a time, first stopping at the door that led to the room Njall adopted first.

The woman made no attempt at being quiet as she opened the door, to which she called out as loudly quiet as she could: "They are coming back!" And then she was gone, rushing to wake Turos next.
 
  • Stressed
Reactions: Njáll
Njall's eyes snapped open.

The Nordwiir rarely slept, a benediction of his blessing from the Dark Gods, but when he did it was always shallow. The sound of Emmeline's boots thundered on wooden floor as she rushed towards Turos' room, the hunter she left behind muttering a quiet prayer to the Dark Gods.

"Doesn't make much sense." He muttered to himself, scooping up each of his two hatchets and quickly heading towards the door.

"This don't make no fucking sense." Turos echoed Njall's complaint. "They shouldn't be comin' back!"

Neither of the Hunter's had any trouble believing Emmeline of course. They were utterly sure that she was right, their problem was with the Leeches. The damned things should have been broken, their pack shattered and their will nothing.

If they were coming back to town, it meant something was bringing them back to town. "Necromancer?"

Njall asked as he began to cut towards the stairs. "I fucking hope not."

"Blight Cairn?" It seemed unlikely, a Blight Cairn was something of a twisted graveyard. Created by negative energies usually found only after massacres and great slaughters. Usually coming about in mass graves.

"Who the fuck knows." Turos complained, hoisting his massive crossbow. "But we're going to have to find whatever is bringing these things here fast."