Open Chronicles Burning of Knottington

[Arnor Skuldsson]

There was always a fire. Best way to open up an attack on a place like this.

And best way to ruin his drink.
​

He was south of the spine, just shy of it. And the village he was in, Knottington- he thought, at least- was on fire. Women and men screaming in the distance, silenced now and again by some malevolent creature, or beast. Arnor drew his sword, rotating it in his hands, adjusting the chain mail as he stood, the rest of the inn cowering in the corner. He was the first to step outside, to observe the carnage. Bodies lay in the street, and there were creatures running about, crude weapons in hand-

Naga.

He had heard tales of them, of creatures crossing into the mainland to raid and pillage. Those would always be there. In the snow-covered street, three of them approached the Nordenfiir. He might have been the first Nord that either species had ever met. He wasn't sure. He gripped tight his sword, silence filling the street. A series of clicks and growls erupted between them.

Strange.

One of them, adorned in chainmail- came rushing at him. Arnor grabbed the warrior by his face and shoved him face first into the snow, his elbow dropping onto the back of his skull. It worked well, as it did with humans. The Naga was dead in the snow, while the second- taking no time to give Arnor any pause, as any marauder would, charged at him. Arnor caught him in the knee with the tip of his sword, before he pulled him down to the ground, rolling on top of him, pinning his arms with his mighty legs, and jabbing him in the neck with the hilt of his sword. The Naga began to wildly choke, gasping and struggling for air. The third and final tackled Arnor, throwing him into the snow. They cooperated. They were savage and beastly. The beast headbutted Arnor, sending his world into a blur, a hazy, smoky mess. He saw the shape of his arms go upwards to stab him. Even human marauders, the most savage and formidable, were rarely this...violent. Arnor reached around, grasping a handful of snow and stuffing it into the face of the beast.

As it turns out, a relatively cold-blooded creature didn't like being made any colder than he had to be. That allowed Arnor to buck his hips, throwing the Naga off of him. The Naga tumbled away into the snow, but recovered quickly. A seasoned warrior. Arnor charged him, taking the role of the aggressor. He raised his blade upwards, bringing the pommel down on his long-snake face. The Naga screamed, and went to slash his torso with his sickle.

Arnor caught his bicep, wrapping it behind his arm, locking out his arm. He began to violently pound the Naga's face with his fist, before raising his blade downward, sticking it through the Naga's, long, snake-like face. Arnor hadn't seen a lot of snakes in his lifetime thus far, but he remembered the shape. The Naga screamed, but didn't have long. As it opened it's mouth, likely calling for aid, Arnor wrapped his fingers along the bottom of his mouth- and pulled. He dislocated it's lower jaw, sending it into a frenzy. He stepped to the outside, throwing the Naga into a burning hut, the disturbing sound of a creature catching on fire filling his ears.

He breathed deeply, looking down at his gloved hand. The leather was discolored. Strange. He had to get out of here. There was no use in trying to defend the town- it was already lost. It was a fairly large settlement. If there were any other survivors besides the ones he left at the inn, he would guess that they too, would try and make their way out. Arnor began to trot down the street, intent on reaching the outskirts- hoping to lose the beasts in the wilderness.

​

 

[Aithlin Kitansyr]

'Go see the world, it'll be a fun little adventure'

That had been a great idea the woman chided herself, her breath coming in short pants as her bright blue eyes flicked around the buildings of the village, the smoke billowing out from the burning buildings drifting across the street, blowing around a cart left abandoned in the middle of the street as it's users ran from the oncoming hordes. In her defence, the journey so far had been going alright so far. She'd managed to catch a ride on a ship heading to the Allir Reach, supposedly a faster trip than riding through Falwood...ok so when she thought about it maybe it hadn't been going so well. Her ship had been blown off course in a storm, and instead of the nice safe merchant port they'd been aiming for the elf had found herself on the far side of the Allir Reach from her target. That in and of itself wouldn't have been too bad, a slightly longer trip to get to Alliria. Only...well the village the ship had ended up beached in for repairs hadn't turned out to be such a safe port in a storm. They'd only been here a few days when a horde of Naga's had descended on the village, her luck didn't seem to be getting any better it seemed.

Biting down on her lip the woman peered around the corner of the building she'd been hiding behind, the blonde head appearing for just a moment before she pulled back, her breath catching in her throat. There were three of the raiders slithering through the street, their weapons prodding at the cart, breaking open the crates in the back, a veritable treasure of cabbages and potatoes spilling out to the sound of their laughter. The Elf reached for her quiver, pulling two arrows out of her quiver, nocking one loosely to her bow as she glanced back at the ship's crew gathered around behind her. "Very quietly...I'll handle the three in the street, you head down that way. If you can make it to the forest you should be able to get away from the Naga till you can make it up to the cliff overlooking the village...and captain." Her blue eyes caught the man's gaze as she gave him a small smile, "I think after this I get the nice cabin huh?" "Lady, you get us out of her and you can have anything you want." "Well, it's always nice to be appreciated."

Waving the crew off Aithlin peered back at the Naga, bringing her bow up, the fletching of her arrow ticking her cheek as she took a deep breath, sighting down the shaft of her weapon. Banter aside, she wasn't sure she could take three of them, and she thought maybe the captain knew that too, but every second she tied them was three seconds more the crew could escape. Her breath was burning in her lungs now as she held her shot, waiting for that perfect shot. With a twang the arrow shot out, followed by an explosive breath as her fingers ran through a motion that was like a second nature to her, the second arrow swinging up to her bow as the first Naga fell back,m her arrow lodged in its throat as the two other raiders turned towards her with a cry of alarm the second arrow whistling through the air to drive into the arm of another raider. The elf didn't have time to reach for a third arrow before the Naga were on her.

Aithlin ducked under an axe swung by one of the Naga's, the lizard with her arrow embedded in its shoulder lagging behind a pace, long enough for her to scrabble backwards, her bow slipping from her grip as her hands, throw to the side as she freed her daggers from their sheathes at her back, the blades catching the light as she braced one foot against the nearby cart, using it to push herself forward in an explosive burst of speed. She rose up into the air, leaping clean over the descending axe, one foot touching lighting on the weapon's shaft as she flipped over the Naga's head. Immediately she span on one foot, her blond hair flaring out behind her as the glinting blades slicing through the air, one of them burying themselves in the Naga's neck. It was pure luck she heard the sound of a blade whistling through the air, throwing herself to the ground as she felt the air from the blade passing just past her ear. As she fell Aithlin reached out with her hand, cushioning her fall as she bent her arm at the elbow, straightening it to force herself up, spinning her body around, her last dagger cutting into the Naga's stomach as he pulled back his sword for another swing. For a moment both elf and naga just stared at one another, the silence only broken by the crackle of fire burning in the background. The moment seemed to draw out as he hissed, backhanding the elf, sending her skittering back as he reached down to pull the dagger from his stomach, reaching up to wrench the arrow from his shoulder before he turned to follow Aithlin, to finish her off. The raider's turn was only met by a familiar whistle as an arrow sprouted from his throat, the woman lowering her bow as she dropped to her knees, sucking in a shuddering breath as she slumped over. The adrenaline coursing through her system slowly ebbed leaving her shuddering, hand grasping her bow tightly. SHe'd get up, go after the sailors, but not yet, in a minute.

 

[Viktoriya Antonov]

Ah the cries of pain, the savage sound of weapons clashing against one another, the red trickle of the crimson liquid seeping into the pure white snow. It was almost music to her ears, how long had it been since her last raid? Too long, even for an elf, though it was unfortunate that this little attack was not done by her followers but some trouble some little Naga looking to get a meal and loot. Quite the persistent little buggers to, quite a sight to see their kind leave the warm and cozy lands and climb up to the more mountainous and cold climates, they must certainly be hungry. Either that or small rural port towns were just easy picking... perhaps she could learn a few things from these Naga, a task for another time.

First things first she needed to get out of this village, preferably with her head still attached, which was easier said then done. She had originally come to this remote village on a small research trip after a run in with a scholarly mage in Alliria, well more she stalked him but the main point was they became 'friends' in a sense. Surface to say the event of a Naga attack had not come to mind in the trip plan, and as a result the sudden raid had been quite the interesting surprise.

Exiting the currently aflame in she bore first hand to the current slaughter and fighting taking place in the street, thinking to see streets filled with dead and looted bodies along with the Naga attackers. Instead, she found herself int he presence of dead Naga bodies, most having been slayed by... arrows, no not just arrows, eleven arrows. "Oh things just got a lot more
intriguing, who art thou sender of such arrows", she said to herself, blue gaze scanning the nearby scene. It did not take a second to notice the collapsed girl, snow slowly covering her golden stranded hair, a small smile coming from Viktoriya, "aww how cute... I best help her".

Lighting a flame in hand with magic the nun dressed elf ran over to her collapsed brethren, kneeling down, letting the flicking heat wash over her body. "Rise young one, it is not safe to linger her much longer, surely more Naga will be coming to avenge their fallen comrades, are you able to stand"? She questioned, brushing some snow off the women's body, the choking smell of smoke and blood getting thicker by the minute.

Aithlin Kitansyr Arnor Skuldsson

 

[Signe]

She’d never had a good feeling about this village of Knottington. A nagging feeling akin to a bad omen had been gnawing away at her since her entry to the village. She’d brushed it aside as nothing more than an afterthought, and now that had seemed to be a really bad idea. She found herself waking up to the sound of people screaming, and the familiar sound of battle. Somewhere someone was fighting. Or maybe it was more than just someone.

Her acute sense of smell also picked up the stench of blood and death along with that of fire. Something was burning. Getting dressed and gathering her belongings with axe drawn and shield out, she exited the inn only to find the whole of Knottington ablaze. Of course, the whole place had to be on fire while she was still in it. To complicate things further, Signe saw what seemed to be Naga sliding around the place like raiders, putting their blade to whatever miserable village that lay in their path. She’d heard tales about these reptilian creatures before, but this was her first time seeing them in the flesh. Seems like today would be the day that she get to kill one herself too.

While one was busy impaling a village on its spear, she took the opportunity to creep behind it and struck while its attention was elsewhere, chopping its arm off sending its weapon falling to the fall, and an ungodly screech filled the air. A quick chop of its head swiftly silenced the creature. She had no idea that these Naga made such horrible ear-piercing noises when death was about to claim them. Two others slithered out from some corner, their weapons drawn and faces wretched. She had surmised that they were in some kind of rage upon seeing the corpse of their comrade on the ground.

The first one charged towards her with a slash of his blade and Signe raised her shield, blocking the blow as it sent a tremor through her arm. She swung her axe upwards in a vicious slash, all but cleaving most of the Naga’s face away. Before the second serpent could do anything but left out that horrible screech again once more, Signe threw up axe, landing it blade first onto the creature’s face. That shut it up right away.

Moving over to retrieve her axe from the Naga’s face with a squish of flesh and broken broke, she shook it to get it clean of the blood and viscera that coated the head of the axe. It was then that yet another familiar scent assailed her nose. The earthy, musky scent of a Nordenfiir. One of her kind was close. Sniffing the owner of the scent out, Signe eventually came into plan view of a very large male. She made her way over. Two was always better than one, and she’d rather fought alongside another Nordenfiir than anyone else.

Arnor Skuldsson

 

[Arnor Skuldsson]

Things were getting hectic, chaotic, and moreso by the minute. The Naga were advancing, having pushed past the town's meager defenses. The townspeople, for the most part- were running towards the great hall at the center of town, with the town guard, and the more brave folk of the village beginning to form a weak defensive perimeter.

Unfortunately for Arnor, that was at least a quarter mile away- and he had no real idea that they were trying. He just saw all the townsfolk running in that direction. So he figured they knew something that he didn't. Or at the least, they could help him. His nose, filled with the rust-like smell of blood, the twinge of iron- picked up a familiar smell. A fellow Nordenfiir. He turned his head. A woman. Here?

Maybe he wasn't the only adventurous one.

A Naga came, trying to slash at Arnor while he was distracted. He turned, and the blade went across his chainmail, slicing the thick leather of his coat. He wrapped his arm around the reptile's face, giving his whole upper torso a sharp twist. Arnor didn't break the Naga's neck- he broke his spine. He let the twitching monster drop to the ground, face first into the snow. He could crawl his way home, for all Arnor cared.

He reached up, pointing his sword towards the direction that the townsfolk were running to the other Norden. They needed to move, not talk. That could come later. Arnor began to move, shoulder checking a Naga who was about to impale a woman with his spear. She was clutching a bag of...iron tools.

They weren't after just treasure....

Arnor found that somewhat interesting.


Signe l Viktoriya Antonov l Aithlin Kitansyr

 

[Signe]

Watching the big man fight was a great display in its own right. The other Nordenfiir didn't need a weapon to cause damage, and Signe watched as he used his arms to snap the neck-no the spine of the Naga, and these reptilian creatures were small by any means. A smile, almost a grin crept onto her face.

Somehow the way the big man fought pleased her, she did fancy the big warrior types after all, what else could she say? The sight of a great warrior exhibiting their prowess always managed to get her blood racing just as much as a satisfactory kill. While the big man fought the Naga close to him, Signe took care of those close to her.

How many of these pathetic beasts were there?

It had to be a whole army of them. The ground of the village was littered with plenty of corpses, human and Naga alike, and for every two she killed, three more seemed to pop out of nowhere to take its place. As soon as she cleaved yet another Naga before dismembering another, she soon found herself closer to the other Nordenfiir.

The fighting had closed the distance originally between them, and the brown bear spoke first, not waiting for him to say a word. "The great hall is that way." She jerked her axe towards the general direction most villages were fleeing to. "I say we fight our way there if need be. We don't want to find ourselves alone and cornered." She gave out a chuckle.

"My axe will have no lack of Naga blood tonight."

Arnor Skuldsson | Viktoriya Antonov | Aithlin Kitansyr

 

[Aithlin Kitansyr]

The middle of a battlefield probably wasn’t the best place to lose your sense of perceptual awareness. If this had been a training exercise back with the rangers then someone would probably have torn into her for letting herself get so caught up in the fight that the adrenaline crash had left her so exhausted. Or maybe it would have been for getting so out of practice that she’d let one of the Naga’s actually land a blow. Aithlin could feel the soreness in her cheek, the pulse of heat that told her that she’d be feeling that tomorrow. She was vaguely aware of all of that, of the cold snow settling on her…wait.” The young elf looked up, blue eyes widening in surprise at the sight of the priestess looming over her, a flame enveloping her hand. That did explain why she wasn’t feeling cold anymore.

Cautiously Aithlin reached up, pressing one hand against her cheek, wincing as her fingers pressed against the sore flesh as she brushed the snow out of her lap. “I’m fine, really it’s just,” she glanced over at the still body of the Naga where it lay in the middle of a slowly growing circle of crimson snow. “He was faster than I thought, well, honestly I didn’t think I’d make it out of the fight in one piece anyway. A final last stand in the middle of some hamlet no-one really knows about Not exactly how I thought the story would,” she broke off as the sibilant sound of the Naga’s speech echoed down the street. It was impossible to tell where the sounds were coming from, or if the speaker was getting closer or further away but that wasn’t important. “Right yeah, get out of here.” Slowly the elf pushed herself to her feet, brushing some more snow off her tunic before she took a quick step forward, sinking down to one knee to scoop up her knives of the ground. For a moment Aithlin just stared at the blades, the silvery metal streaked with blood casting a reddened hue over the reflection of the burning buildings. The image reflected in the metal was like something out of a nightmare, terrifying in its stark reality.

The image of blood and flame wasn’t something the young elf really wanted to dwell on as she cast around, wiping the knives clean on the Naga’s tunic before she settled them safely back into their sheaths. A few steps more saw her retrieve her bow, one finger instinctively tugging at the strong, a soft twang cutting through the air as she assured herself that it was still whole and still functional. Even as the sound was fading Aithlin had turned to face Viktoriya, her eyes flicking up the street behind her checking for any signs of the raiders. “Thanks, I’m…I probably would have just kept sitting there while one of them came slithering around the corner and wouldn’t have ever realised it till well you know it doesn’t really look like they’re taking prisoners.” It didn’t look like any of the bodies in the street were from the ship’s crew she’d been trying to save, that was a relief at least but that left the two of them in a little bit of a bind. There didn’t seem to be an end to the Naga’s attacking the village and they certainly couldn’t stay here. “So, do you know where everyone went? Cause my only plan was to try to make it into the woods.”

Signe | Arnor Skuldsson | Viktoriya Antonov

 

[Arnor Skuldsson]

Arnor was about to agree with her, when his Norden ears- the cry of a child. Arnor was not a fan of many things. In fact, he hated more than he liked. He disliked just about as much as he had hairs on his body. And one of the things he did like, was children. Children...made him happy. He loved to see their laughter, their joy. Reminded him that their was a future, that there was hope for everyone. He also liked them because, like cats, kittens were cute, but cats were assholes.

Kids were like that. People sucked. Kids didn't.

And there was a child in trouble, screaming for help. Screaming for their father. For their mother.

On the other side of the patched up hut, a child was in danger. Arnor didn't even blink. He broke through the thin wood, burnt and weakened by the fire, to the other side- dousing a Naga banging on a door in hot ash and timber. Arnor switched his blade to his off hand, striking the off-guard Naga in the throat. As it choked, he dug the blade deep into it's chest, lifting it off the ground. He held it up with one hand, stabbing it several times- over and over, until he was satisfied he was dead. He tossed aside the snake-like creature without a second thought. He burst through the weak wooden door, crawling along the ground to avoid the smoke.

He found the child- two of them. The brother was holding onto a baby. He gestured for the boy to follow his movements. He was crying, but- Arnor encouraged him to be brave. They made it to the door, as the home they knew was engulfed in flames. He swaddled the baby more than it was, to protect it from the cold with the rest of the fabric of his shirt- and encouraged the boy to stay close.

They made it back to Signe, with Arnor breathing deeply- within a matter of moments. He switched his sword back to his dominant hand.

"Excellent idea."

He turned to the small child, ushering him to follow. He marched towards the longhouse, cleaving a Naga with his sword, turning to face the other Norden as he crouched near a building, checking to see if it was safe to continue. He turned to the other Nordenfiir, speaking quietly.

"I'm Arnor Skuldsson- you are?"

 

[Maude]

The Great Hall, as previously described, was precisely where everyone was heading. It was also exactly where the remaining Naga force was converging upon. As one of the last standing buildings away from the main of the town, it had yet to draw a flame. The townspeople of Knottington were filtering in and Maude was there helping them to get inside.

If she didn't know any better, and she didn't, Maude could have sworn that bad luck was following her around. Or perhaps Borvenir had collected some of the Bog Witches as was electing for more esoteric means of hunting her down.

"Save us!"
"Help us!"

It had become the mantra of the night as the holocaust scene of Knottington lit up the evening sky. Maude had helped to arm a few of the fitter local men, giving up her bow and arrows to a local hunter and a shortsword to a young man that had spent some time as a squire. The others were armed with mallets, shovels, pitchforks, a few other hunting bows meant for taking town deer or rabbits. She didn't question their courage, but she couldn't vouch for their effectiveness against armored snakepeople.

"My children! Please someone help me!" a woman bearing the scorchmarks of her home came stumbling up to the line, falling at Maude's feet, "Please, please! My boy, my baby! They're still in the house! Please save them - SAVE THEM!"

Green eyes rounded on the woman, wide as Maude bent to pick her up with one hand, "Where?"
"There, there, down by the well. The Tanner's house!"
"Get inside-"
"Please you have to help them!"
"I'll find them, now GO."

Maude pushed her into the care of another before drawing twin Solstal swords and turned just in time to see a surge of new enemies coming from all sides. This was not at all what she envisioned her journey into the summer lands to be, but fuck if she was going to let another genocide happen under her watch. With a deep breath the woman roared her fury into the cold air and drove forward into the approaching horde, carving her way from one foe to the next and painting the cobblestone beneath her feet with the deep mar of Naga blood.

 

[Viktoriya Antonov]

It appeared as if the young girl was still in a dazed slumber, a whole 30 seconds passing before she responded to her first words, all but in quite the 'wait what' manner. Was she not expecting someone of her 'p[profession' to be in a place like this? or had the Naga cause more of a concussion then originally suspected? So many questions so little time.

Her gaze continued to glaze over the younger women's body as she started to speak, thankful but not caution to the wind just yet. "Fast yes true, Naga are known for their quick strikes, just like their animal counter parts, though do not sully your skill, you are certainly a strong fighter, perhaps a bit unprepared but strong". Again not that anyone could really know such an event would happen, to be honest she'd not be surprise if the Naga only set fire to the village in attempts to starve of their own
hypothermia.

"Well either way it seems like the situation in this area is under control, but let us not linger, up em atem little one, danger still persists in this town". At the moment the Naga were probably spread around, looting the streets, but as more building burnt down and people fled they would converge. When that happened their numbers would be to great to fight off regardless of the defenders skills in combat.

Viktoriya slowly trailed behind the younger elf as she went to retrieve the dropped weapons, the gleaming silver blades and finely crafted bow not going unnoticed. She were blooded and used but didn't look worn in the slightest, the fine craftsmanship of their race a,always being something to marvel at and be proud of, though it did more then just turn a few heads. Those blades and weapon, they were of a ranger, quite a sight but it did raise a question, why was a ranger so far from Falwood?

The little train of thought came to an end as the younger women put forward query, "if I were to guess young one most of the villagers would be at the town center, putting up a defense". "I would assume such a town has a small militia garrison of some professional troops, but that would do little against this raid". "That is unless we lend a hand, I would also assume there would be a few mercenaries of sell swords around that are probably helping out too, though such is only one option available". Viktoriya tried to keep a smile on but even so it was hard, no impossible to hid the almost hopeless situation they found themselves in, a few dozen people could not defend again an raiding party.

"The woods while idea in theory may just lead to more problems, we could stumble across more Naga, or other fell and wild animals,though such would be easy for a ranger no"? Her voice being a little sassy, like that of a person who found out a secret of another, unless this women went around telling others what she was. "Ultimately the the choice is your, I only offer spiritual guidance, not physical".

Aithlin Kitansyr

 

[Signe]

She was about to wait for an answer to come from her new companion when he suddenly rushed off into a new direction. It was then that her ears picked up on what had caught the man's attention. Children's cries inside a burning hut.

She instantly knew what he planned to do, and she had her axe up and ready, just up to cleave yet another piece of Naga when she was interrupted by a her charging companion who crashed into the the serpent-like creature seconds before she struck. Taken slightly aback, Signe shrugged as the big man went to town on the Naga, eventually fatally striking it in the throat and chest. He even stabbed the dead creature several more times more than necessary for great effect.

The big man also burst through the door instead of opening it like people usually do, which was quite amusing she thought to herself with a grin. He returned with a babe covered in soot covered cloth and a tearing boy who followed closely behind. Signe finally got her answer, and it was an excellent one at that.

The four of them marched towards the longhouse in the middle of the village, slashing away at any Naga that crossed their path. Leaning against a building, her companion introduced himself as Arnor Skuldsson , and now she finally had a name to put to the face. "I'm Signe. Signe Hagen."

 

[Arnor Skuldsson]

He held the boy back, turning to face the other Norden woman. He gave her an appreciative nod, but had little else to say. The time for conversation- was not during an assault on a town. A town! Arnor couldn't help but be impressed, in a way. Their assault was ambitious- and well executed. They seemed more organized than raiders he'd known his time. He never participated in a raid. Never felt the desire or need to- but deep down, Arnor was a kind man.

That being said, the Naga's who's jaw he dislocated wouldn't agree. He didn't punch the Naga- he grabbed his lower jaw, placing his hand in his mouth- and pulled down. The shriek was brutal. What was about as brutal, was the off-hand grab of the Naga, driving him to the snow. Arnor held him down, placing a knee on his back, snuffing out the helpless snake-like creature. He stood tall, motioning for the child to follow them.

As they rounded a corner, the longhouse came into view- the great hall, with temporary, rushed defenses. And a substantial amount of Naga gathering, backing off to conduct a final assault. Arnor turned to the children, then to the other woman. They had about a hundred feet or so to sprint over to the great hall, to where the villagers were gathering for what would be their last stand. Through all the assaults on his senses, he could not smell a familiar face- or see her.

Maude, the woman who would be Queen, was in the vicinity. Arnor turned back to face Signe, rolling his blade idly. He wasn't nervous for him, but for the two children with him. He placed a hand on the small boy's back, comforting him.

"You and I should create a path- protect the little ones so they can make it to the great hall."

He seemed desperate to get the children to safety, moreso than himself and Signe. He was an odd Nordenfiir, the way he cared about humans so much. But perhaps that was what made him...special.

 

[Aithlin Kitansyr]

Aithlin glanced up and down the street, taking a moment to consider the hissing of the Naga that surrounded them, wending their way through the streets in search of their prey. The young elf gave the woods leading away from town, judging her chances to make the escape there. If she was alone then maybe she could make it out in safety, but with a human nun behind her, she wasn’t so sure she could. The moment of indecision hung in the air for a long moment, Aithlin’s white teeth pressing into the soft flesh of her lower lip, the soft flesh going white underneath the pressure. In the end, there really wasn’t much of a decision to be made, she couldn’t risk someone else for her comfort, couldn’t take the chance that anyone else could be hurt because of their absence.

Turning on one foot the young elf gave Viktoriya a wry smile, “Well, I guess we should head towards the centre of town then. If anyone’s there then they could probably use your help, and maybe the Naga won’t mess with us if they see a lot of people gathered together.” Or maybe they’d see it as an opportunity to hit the most prey they could all at once, there really wasn’t a good decision to be made here, you just picked your path and hoped that it turned out well for everyone involved.

Any more chance to reminisce, to consider options ended as a cry split the air followed by a roar of fury, a very un Naga-like roar of fury. It seemed there were other people still fighting in the middle of the village. Any doubt or uncertainty sloughed off Aithlin in an instant, her back a little straighter, the look she gave the nun lacking any self-doubt. “Sounds like you’re right sister, it looks like they’re closer to the centre of town, but it doesn’t look like they’re trying to sneak around either. They’re gonna bring every Naga in the area into the village. We’re never gonna get out through the woods now. So, are you ready to run?” Even as she asked the question Aithlin was pulling an arrow from her quiver, nocking it loosely to her bow as she offered the nun a smile, “You just head for the centre of the town. I’ll cover you till you get there.” It seemed like today was the day for heroic moments, she wasn’t used to it and honestly didn’t know what had come over her but, she couldn’t just run, leaving the villagers to their fate.

Viktoriya Antonov

 

[Signe]

The man, this Arnor Skuldsson intrigued her. One would think that a man of his size, no a Nordenfiir like himself would bea bloodthirsty warrior like many of his peers, but this man here seemed to care about the safety of the children than anyone else in the vicinity, and that more than just amused Signe, it got her attention. He was definitely an odd Nordenfiir that was for sure, but not in a bad way. Somehow that made him a little more endearing that he would be otherwise.

She liked children as well, some of them had the tendency to be really cute, and some spunky, and then there were also those that you swore were little spawns of the devil. But overall, she did like them, especially back during her time in Hjerim. For now, all she could do was to follow while Arnor led them, with every step they got closer and closer to the longhouse, the central most defendable position. A hundred feet or so separated their small little group of four from the rest of the surviving townsfolk and whatever warriors still alive in the town.

It was also then that among the stench of death and blood, that she found a familiar scent in the air. Another Nordenfiir! It was good that more of their like was in the vicinity. Hopefully this meant that they could drive the Naga out after all. Arnor suggested that the two of them carve a path for the children to safety. Signe simply nodded in reply before she called out to the small boy. "Stay close to us young one. We will carve a safe passage for all of us to safety."

 

[Viktoriya Antonov]

The tension in the air was so thick you could cut it with a knife, what ever was going through the young Elfs mind was certainly quite the question. Was she worried about the people in the village? herself? It was nice to see honorable people, though she had to wonder if the ranger knew she was an Elf too. Though that was the one reason she wore this outfit, not everyone was trusting of Elfs, most notably dwarfs, such stubborn fools.

Once more time seemed to ebb away again, the scene around them not changing, only becoming more dangerous, the shadows of snake like shadows appearing on walls down the road, the flames of the outer houses jumping to new ones to extend the current blaze."True enough, maybe we can funnel the Naga into a choke point of some sort and have the militia take them out", hopefully a concentrated force would be able to deter the Naga long enough or allow them to slowly whittle down small groups.

With both hands she summoned some 'holy' flames, to provide warm but also to have a weapon on hand to use against future enemies they may come across, the sound of battle not dying down anytime soon."Run, oh no I am ready to fight, It would be inappropriate for me to simple run away and leave people to die, I am certain if we stick together we can both make it through, have FAITH". That wasn't a very good pun though she had a feeling this battle would turn around if all the worthy warriors could
congregate.

"I know you can cover me, but do not ask for help, I am more then just a pretty face after all", she replied giving a small smile. "I will take lead, do not fall behind, move from corner to corner and watch each others back I say, alone out here we are easy picking". Giving the young elf one last look she stated to jog down the snow covered street, quickly and quietly moving towards their new goal.

Aithlin Kitansyr

 

[Arnor Skuldsson]

His heartbeat began to slow, as he became focused. It was slow, methodical, pumping blood to his extremities. Adrenaline surged as he launched forward, guiding the boy, swaddling his baby brother to the great hall. There were two Naga who were brave enough to come to the large Nordenfiir- and met their end swiftly. One had it's throat slashed- the other found itself lifted into the air by it's left leg, driven down to the ground. He swung his body around the beast, stomping on it's head until it stopped moving.

The blood covered Arnor turned to the children, who made it past the makeshift defense line of the great hall. He was silhouetted by the fires, standing in the snow-covered ground. The Naga howled, angry that they were taking so many losses. After all, they expected an easy fight.

It was that when he saw the other Nordenfiir, not Signe, but a familiar face. Through the orange and red casted shadows, a flash of white teeth showed. He was smiling. He was happy to see Maude, a positive thought in an otherwise bleak situation. The boy found his mother, or a close relative- she ushered him inside to where the rest of the defenseless townsfolk lie. Even the women, and the older children, armed with pitchforks, crude swords, sharp sticks- came to surround the entrance to the great hall.

Arnor walked to Maude, face to face with the only slightly shorter woman.

"Looks like our people met the Naga."

 

[Maude]

"Ma!" the scream of the little boy caught Maude's ear despite the wailing of a dying Naga on her blade.

"Bran!" the woman was back, taking her boy and baby from the arms of Arnor.

Boot pressed against the chest of her foe, Maude growled as she shoved the creature off her sword and turned in time to see the distraught mother disappear into the great hall with her children. It was a long enough window of time that her gaze shifted across the myriad faces to the only familiar one in the crowd.

Arnor was as blood-soaked and singed as she was, his smile and words drawing a rare smirk out of her.

"So they have," she replied, spitting a mouthful of soot and blood to the side. Green eyes alight with the fires ravaging the town settled on the figure of Signe with instant recognition for the stranger as an ursinekin, "let's make a lasting impression."

Sitting back and waiting for the enemy to come to her wasn't her preferred method of warfare. Now that it seemed most of the citizens were corralled into safety, it was time to make the hard push back. She didn't wait for them to respond, there wasn't any need. Broad shoulders shifted beneath steel pauldrons as the Norden reaffirmed the grip on her twin swords and rounded back into the fray, blades singing through the smoke-filled air.

 

[Arnor Skuldsson]

A good impression.

A good impression.

Arnor would burn his image into their memories. But how- he needed to think. He was soaked in blood. He felt...disgusting. He dropped his leather and chainmail, standing in his torn shirt. The Naga gathering around the Great Hall, stopped to watch him. He looked up slowly, before reaching to his collar. He peeled his shirt off, flexing his massive back and chest muscles. His abdomen was bulky, but not defined- definition was not something that he could attain with his lifestyle. Arnor was simply a big man- and his muscles were built for killing and nothing else. He was not an athlete or a runner- he was a marauder.

He needed to be strong, not fast.

He reached down, touching the ash to his face. He ran it across his eyes, before flinging them open. He gripped the sword, moving past the meager defensive line. He looked behind him at Maude, smiling ear to ear amidst the bloodshed. He turned back to the Naga, holding his arms out.

He was issuing a challenge, a call to arms for their strongest.

They answered.

And a beast came- nearly seven and a half feet tall. If he wasn't their leader, he must've been the strongest. His axe and spear were covered in blood, and bits of bone. He was fresh from a kill. Arnor was covered in his kin's blood. The feeling of hatred was mutual. The rest of the Naga, some dozen left in number- cheered, but fell silent for a moment. The big son of a bitch clicked, groaned- and communicated in their awful way. The rest were dead silent, and the only sound was the crackling of fires and the crunch of snow as it approached Arnor. Arnor responded by running at the largest of the group. The rest of the Naga began to charge the great hall, letting Arnor deal with their champion.

Knottington was no longer a village. It was a battlefield.

 

[Aithlin Kitansyr]

A wry smile touched the young elf's lips as she watched the Nun summon the holy fire, her hands blazing as she gently chided Aithlin. She had to admit she deserved it, judging a book by it's cover was one of the lessons that they were drilled to avoid in Ranger training, after all, no-one could ever expect someone as slight as her to be as proficient with her long blades as she'd trained to be. Perhaps that was it, she'd fallen into the fallacy that afflicted so much of her race, She had practised with her weapons for decades, the nun, on the other hand, she couldn't have had that level of training, so she'd assumed she had no training, that she was incapable of fighting herself.

"As you say sister, we'll watch one another's back."

Even as Aithlin reached for her quiver, resting an arrow on her bowstring she reached out with her mind to the constant presence of Heleg. It was but the work of a moment to gather a sliver of her magic, feeding it to her summon, the elemental returning it to the elf, her eyes glowing blue for a moment as the ice mana flowed through her. It wasn't enough to cast a spell, to manipulate anything but it was enough to send the ice mana through her body, inuring her against the cold swirling around her as she pulled her cloak back, freeing her arms in case of battle

Aithlin's footsteps were soft, light as she pressed her back against her back against a wall, her blue eyes glancing around the street, peering through the smoke for any sign of the Naga's encroaching. "Much more than a pretty face it seems, I'll be right behind you sister...just don't get spotted." The last was thrown out at her partner with a soft, challenging smile. "If we can find some others, then maybe we can turn it around, force them back. Or at least stop them from hurting too many people."

Viktoriya Antonov

 

[Lagakh]

Do not tarry. Those were the commands of the Elder Shaman, advising the young battle mage on the appropriate route from Gulf of Ryt to the southern expanse of the Spine, Belgrath. Do not dally, do not laze about, find the quickest route from one point to another. In the strictest sense of things, it was a straight line that should have directed this pilgrimage. But it became quite clear to the nomad that her path would be as winding as a serpent moving across the desert, as meandering as an oxbow lake. And she was was sure as hell intent on taking her sauntering time.

It wasn't a fast route on foot, as is, and she understood the expectation of return to be hopeful if not outright unrealistic. Time would tell. And time would dictate stops along the way, such as the humble village of wood that called itself Knottington. It seemed a silly name, from the outside, as it not only seemed like a simple sprawling village but also, there wasn't a single knot to be found. Unless, or course, it spoke of the many intricate ways in which the people wore their hair. Then the name was justly earned.

The nostrils of her short nose flared instinctively as the smell of smoke roused her from a much needed rest. Black eyes opened to a hazy world and she felt at the ground around her. The shelter that stood erected above her was warped wood, poorly put together, and it smelled of smoke and shit. The smoke was a curious thing but it seemed the wafting notes of dung were originating from a hefty pile of pig leavings, the culprit was nowhere to be found. "Even the pig wouldn't sleep here..." She uttered as she felt her forehead, lifting herself from the ground and doing her utmost to repel the sordid affairs of a nasty hangover and bad breath. "God..." She stumbled, investigating her free hand as it white knuckled a bone with some remnants of meat on it.

"What the hell..." Laga squinted as she looked out to the sight of snow stained black and red. Staggering out, she felt suddenly relieved that someone had convinced her to pack her black furs and thick linens. Though she could have done with a bit more to cover her shoulders and upper torso.

Looking around, she shook her head and squinted, unsure if what stood before her was a real thing or the illusions stemming from the last evenings tankard, threatening a second round. "Hey!" She barked at the anguine merman, pointing the unfinished bone of meat at him. "Put it down!" Her black orbs narrowed into slits. "HER. Put her down!" Laga reached over her shoulder and grasped at air and straws, finding no weapon. It dawned on her that she couldn't recall where the bone club went. Letting out a exasperated sigh, she lurched forward and launched the meatbone at the creature. It nailed him right in the head and whether good or bad, that had gotten his attention. The child was dropped in a snowdrift like a sack of worthless potatoes.

"Yeah. You!" She wasn't sure what the thing was but it was charging her. And she was pretty sure she was without any appropriate weapons. Nearby, Laga could hear the cries of people at the Great Hall that so many of the villagers had spoke of the night prior. She knew this all too well because the sharp contrast of noise, mixed with the blinding light of the snow, was giving her a miserable migraine. Good thing she had something to take all her anger out on.

Arnor Skuldsson Maude Signe

 

[Viktoriya Antonov]

She turned back to look at the ranger, giving a confident nod, with both of them working together this should be a somewhat manageable fight, her fist clenching in anticipation. It had been a while sine her last proper fight, hopefully she wasn't too rusty, probably a good thing half the village was on fire or covered in snow, would help to conceal her flames and prevent them from doing any major damage.

As the duo departed from the current skirmish field she could sense the magical presence of the younger elf, a sly smile coming over her as she led the way. 'So, little Missy is a summoner type mage, this should be fun, not eveyday you get to see one of them in action'. Rounding a corner they came closer to their goal, once again the ranger giving off some advice before things became heated, figuratively and literately, "I will try, but this outfit doesn't exactly go well with snow, blood and fire, and don't get me wrong, plenty of that around, but not the most conspicuous grab to wear... here I go".

With a spring in step she dashed out into the street, eyes sharpened and on alert for any movements, human or Naga, Viktoriya making it to a stack of barrels before taking cover. Carefully she views the field, in the distance only but a hundred meters away was the main hall, sound of battle being more present. Looking back she gave a signal she knew the rangers used to say all clear, waving the younger women over to her position.

Aithlin Kitansyr

 

[Aithlin Kitansyr]

That sign, just a little placement of the nun's hands pulled Aithlin up short, her breath escaping from her lips as she stared at the nun in shock. There was no way that she could know that, no way at all that the woman should have been able to sign like that, only elves who had been through ranger training should know that. Her surprise lasted all of five seconds, five long beats of her heart as she world swirled and span around her. Five long beats before she scrambled after the woman, hunkering down to the ground.

The benefit of the ice-mana flowing through her body now was it provided her with some protection from feeling the cold as the snow settled on her arms. The downside, it wasn't immunity from the cold, she just didn't feel it, As Aithlin span into cover next to the nun she glanced down at her arms, goosebumps scattering across her bare skin as she glanced around the corner. She could spot the tracks of a group of Naga on the street, the tail of one slithering out of sight behind a building. "Conspicuous or not, if they don't see you then it doesn't matter what you wear...but then you know that don't you." The young elf's fingers closed into a fist, fingers extending out into two rangers symbols, one of identification and one of readiness. "You know the signals don't you...how...I mean," she peered around the corner again, "It's probably not the best time or anything but...no-one else should know that." The middle of a village on fire probably wasn't the place to have this conversation but...she was finding it hard to contain her curiosity.

Viktoriya Antonov

 

[Arnor Skuldsson]

The Naga poured towards the defenses, rallying to avenge their fallen dead- and to finish their mission. The great one before Arnor, stood heads and shoulders taller than him. All it produced from the Nordenfiir was a laugh. As Naga poured around Arnor, Arnor and the beast went at it. The beast was slower than him, and it made it easier to sideswipe his attacks. Their blades met with brutal strength, until Arnor's was knocked out of his hand. The beast kicked him to the ground- cackling in it's native tongue. Arnor fell to the ground, blood from both himself and the beast's attacks. He lied on the snow, while he saw the shadow from the flames behind him shift. The beast wasted no time, not a fan of theatrics. They had nothing to say to each other- which is when he felt the blade slash across his back. White hot pain flared through his body, eliciting a scream from Arnor.

Arnor, however, now had the giant serpent-like creature in a compromising position. Arnor rotated and laid on his freshly-cut back, grimacing in pain. Arnor laid his legs around the Serpent's knee, twisting and drawing the Naga to his knees with a brutal check of his joints- if they even had joints. The task was accomplished all the same, as the beast crashed down to a single, heavy knee. Arnor's fist came up, striking the creature in the jaw.

The single punch- broke bones and sent teeth flying across the snow and mud- and more importantly, sent the Naga onto his side, writhing in surprise and pain. Arnor climbed atop of it, and began to brutally, and savagely attack the beast. He scooted far up on his chest, preventing the beast from moving it's arms or throwing him off with his legs. Arnor's prowess as a grappler showed for a brief moment.

Arnor reached his hands into the Naga's eyes- and pinned the beast by his biceps with his knees. Arnor began to dig his fingers into the Naga's eyes- blood pooling as he began to push past his eye sockets. Arnor lifted the beast's head, smashing it along the ground, screaming all the while. The defenders meanwhile, were being savagely attacked by the plethora of Naga footsoldiers, intent on avenging the heavy losses that they took. Arnor looked up, if only to make sure that Maude and Signe were alright. He felt the great Naga go limp, and he sat atop of it, holding his head to the sky and his arms out.

He screamed a mighty scream, in his glorious, hard-fought victory. He was covered in his own, and the Naga's blood. The snow began to fall again, lightly dusting the burning town. Arnor panted madly, exhausted from his fight. He reached for his dropped sword, and took a moment of respite in the middle of the conflict. He needed only a moment.

 

[Maude]

There were more of them than anticipated - slithering out of the smoldering town to join what she assumed to be their leader, now locked in a savage battle of might. She turned with what level of leadership a trained Ranger might employ and instructed the archers to take cover within the hall, to shoot from on-high while the rest of them protected the entrance.

The Naga attacked in waves, three and four at a time. Some the size of herself, others much larger yet not quite reaching the beastly stature of the one presently entangled with Arnor. Maude didn't have time to see if Signe was tasking herself well, she could only rely on the hope that this stranger she'd never once met before had the wherewithall and upbringing to fight as any other Nordenfiir might. Twin Solstal blades cut through air and scale alike, finding their edge rebuffed by the tough hides of these creatures she determined that the best method to their death was through a well-placed stab.

That was until a fresh group got the jump on her.

Maude disappeared within a group of them, finding her arms entrapped by their wicked strength. One moment the larger of them was raising its own blade for a killing blow, the next a thunderous roar cut through the din of the battle. Steel met fangs and shattered into pieces within the jaw of a great red bear large enough to fend off even the local grizzly. With a lurch the bear lunged forward, capturing the naga's skull in its maw with a deafening crunch. Maude reared upwards and shook the serpent's body until blood oozed out from between her teeth.

One fell swipe of her mighty paw sent the lot of them coiling and writhing to the ground where there, beneath a red-soaked maw, their lives became forfeit. She turned next with a blood-curdling snarl to rip another Naga away from a dying man. Claws tore leather and scale alike, the weight of her alone was enough to collapse its lungs against the ground.

Those remaining began a hasty retreat and the bear followed with vicious tenacity, loping after their slithering forms to catch a tail and drag them back. She took two arrows to the chest in the process but felled another snake along the way, ripping its skull clean from its spine.

 

[Arnor Skuldsson]

Arnor stood tall, fresh from the kill. The Naga began to retreat, not particularly wishing to fight a man who had just killed their Champion, and a- and well, a giant bear. Arnor grabbed his sword tightly, beaming it to a retreating Naga. They were attempting to retreat, in pairs, and larger groups- not wishing to risk their lives for a meager reward from the small village. Knottington had stood the test, and it's people began to rejoice. The crude, Naga-made sword flew from Arnor's hand- and found purchase in a fleeing Naga. It fell to the ground, left behind by it's comrades. Some Naga still lay in the city, but the ones attacking the Great Hall fled- and fled fast. They screamed in their guttural language, signaling a retreat. They whistled- or at least, made a sound like a whistle.

To Arnor, all he could hear was screams of the vanquished, the defeated enemy in retreat. And glorious, hard-fought victory for the defenders, for the people of Knottington. Knottington would live on. The Naga would gain nothing from their attempt at Knottington's life.

He turned to look at Maude, watching her go into her Svalen- and something thumped in his chest that hadn't thumped before. He turned back to the retreating Naga. He held his arms at his side, before falling to his knees. He let out a glorious, victorious battlecry, which was shared by the defenders, still lobbing arrows at the retreating snake-creatures. Arnor fell to his side, exhausted- and bleeding. The cold snow brought him some degree of comfort. He could hear something in the distance- sounding like the strings of a beautiful instrument playing a chord, only for him.

He laid on his side, bleeding profusely from the wound on his back. He looked out, laying his hand in the snow. He felt himself grow weak, and was content to die here. He passed out in the snow, surrounded by the fallen Naga that he himself killed. His breath was slow, and the fog from his breath began to diminish, while he lay in the snow. He opened his eyes before succumbing to unconsciousness towards Maude, but his fingers fell gently to the Earth below.