Private Tales Endirinn

[Brenna]

Brenna masked the relief she felt as their foe stepped back. Truthfully, she hadn't thought through the extent of the consequences that could have arisen if he had chosen to take up her challenge. She was fairly confident she would have been able to take him, not least because she had her svalen to rely on, but the other two... Her blue eyes drifted to the pair who lingered behind still atop their mounts. The tusks of those creatures would have been a danger even in her other form.

It was hard to keep up with the conversation with her limited lexicon and dividing her attention as much as she was between the man Skad spoke with and his two accomplices. She caught the odd phrase here and there only for the next words to throw the shadow of doubt over what she thought she had heard. The man never mentioned Kol though and Brenna was certain that was who Skad had wanted to find first. From what she had explained of the politics of the Nordenwiir, Kol would be a level of security. Was this other person, a she?, someone Skad could trust? From the look on her friends face she doubted it.

Bre let out a soft sigh, shoulders sagging a fraction, when Sar retreated.

"Me too," Brenna admitted, still not taking her eyes off the warrior's back nor her hand off the axe at her belt. "I do not like him," besides the obvious lecherous intent in his gaze, there was something off about the man.

"Not much," she sighed in exasperation at her own lack of knowledge on the Wiir language. "What is a Prestsfrú? Do you know her?"

 

[Skad]

"Good gut," Skad replied, watching the man's back as it retreated up the slight incline to rejoin his allies, "no good thoughts in that head."

The Nordwiir refrained from mentioning that he would not be the last unsavoury character they would encounter on these cursed isles. It was an uncharacteristic moment of tact from a woman who otherwise would not spare feelings, especially if it was disadvantageous. Was this a foolish choice? Perhaps, but Brenna would find this out in time.

"You will understanding more in time," she replied, finding that her own grasp of the common tongue improved while surrounded by those who only spoke it.

"Prestsfrú is shaman," Skad continued, content enough to finally turn her head to face her Nordenfiir companion. "They doing rituals, healing. Doing will of Gods." It was difficult to describe without the right words; her summary was not a complete view of their role in Wiir society, but enough for the time being. More often than not, a Prestsfrú was defined by their blessing. "Not knowing who."

But their Æðri, their leader, knew of her—an entirely separate issue.

"They are wanting us to be joining them," the one-eyed woman continued, not only explaining for Brenna's sake but mulling it aloud herself, "they are knowing more than should. Say we come with change, and they do not fighting that. I am not trusting it, but..." her words trailed off, her jaw set in frustration at her considerations, "...they are not wrong. They share food and bed. Can't say we getting the same in Eyrr."

It was a question of going into the unknown against a guarantee, albeit an entirely suspicious one. Skad had anticipated blades at their throats no matter what, so to be presented with a surprise alternative was tempting, which made it troubling.

"I do not liking. What are you thinking, Brenna?"

 

[Brenna]

Brenna managed to bite her tongue before she could reply with, I don't like any of this. It was unfair. Her entire opinion of the Northern Isles were built on horror stories told by her father, and the glimpses of the dark magic she had seen from Kol and Skad. She had to remind herself that she had also witnessed, and been blessed by, their kindness. The land could therefore not all be bad, not all of its citizens out to kill them.

Could it?

She slowly twirled the axe in her hand before putting it back into its frog and crossed her arms over her chest.

"Do we have an actual choice? Do you think they will leave pleasantly?"

 

[Skad]

In truth, Skad had no real answer to Brenna's question, or at least not one that would satisfy either of them.

The Nordwiir had not anticipated any cordial greeting from her people and, as such, was already feeling on the backfoot. As strange as it sounded, she would have preferred to have been attacked; the predictable could have been planned for. However, in retrospect, Skad's plan of throwing her bear-shaped friend into the face of violence was not her proudest moment.

"I am not knowing," she admitted truthfully, her head turning as a kaldurhrafn fluttered into view on the ground next to them. The large black corvid hopped closer as if it might have offered an opinion.

She sighed, at long last unfolding her arms only to clasp her hands together, the fingers of her left enveloping what remained of her right.

"I am wanting to give the trust, but it against the in stinks," Skad groaned, tilting her head backwards as if the sky might have provided them with the right course.

"Could trying to fight. Killing that Sar first alone, then it is two and two," she continued, mulling over options aloud for Brenna's input, perhaps knowing in truth that if there were a peaceful resolution to be had, her companion would prefer it. Or maybe the rules changed for the Nordenfiir when it came to the slaughter of Wiir. Her head moved back down to gauge a reaction. "Or that is no good?"

 

[Brenna]

Brenna was quietly proud of her friend who had grown so much in their short time together, that she was even hesitating to debate this. If this had occurred when they first met then the snow would have already been drenched in blood. It was why, despite the situation, she found her lips tugging into a lopsided smile.

"Our mission is to bring peace, I suppose starting off with a blood bath would be bad," she gave a theatrical sigh then glanced back to the three. Sar stood beside his mount watching them intently. "If he touches either of us though, I'm claiming at least a hand. I'm sure the Goddess won't begrudge me that," she sniffed then turned to scoop up her belongings. It didn't take long to pack away her sleeping roll and a few other pieces they might need if they had to make an escape and ended out in the wastes.

She slung her round shield over her shoulder last.

<Let us go.>