Private Tales Endirinn

[Skad]

Skad, true to her word closed her remaining eye and rolled onto her side before her usually stoic brow furrowed. To the untrained, it might have seemed that the Nordwiir actually felt a measure guilty about leaving the woman who had taken her in, saved her life and was now determined to heal her out in the cold on guard duty.

A foolish notion.

The one-eyed woman sat up, blindly staring towards the sound of where the woman had gone. "How you hear if shout?" Skad called out, perplexed before assuming that the bearfucker was being a cheeky cunt.

She snorted before laying back down once more and letting the realm of rest take her once again. The very fact that she was still tired enough to sleep more was a worry for tomorrow's trek, that was if they didn't get attacked in the night.

 

[Brenna]

Gooseflesh broke out across her fair skin as the tiny vibrations of Skad's words reached her and she subconsciously rubbed at her arms to banish the odd feeling. She might not have been able to tell what exactly the words were but the tone was definitely one caught between incredulous and amusement. Nothing good, in other words, especially from a Nordenwiir. Stomping her feet to banish the chill before it could set in Brenna cast her eyes around once then shifted. The miasma of light surrounded her body, stretching human form into that of a large tawny bear. Then, much like a dog, it spun in a circle and then settled down in front of the door to sleep.

Crunch.

The earth seemed to scream under her warm belly as human footsteps inched closer and closer. She couldn't feel anything further which meant they were either whispering faintly or not speaking at all. Trying to keep quiet. Most of the villagers knew she was deaf so perhaps they weren't entirely stupid to take that for granted. She carefully opened one eye just a crack to see if the moon illuminated anything but shadows moved against the shadows. She had so hoped they could leave in peace.

"STOP," it was hard to temper ones voice when it came from the throat of a bear and she winced at the deep rumble in her chest. It must have been a shout more than a commanding loud call.

 

[Skad]

The thunderous shout woke the one-eyed woman up with a sudden gasp.

Unsurprisingly, Skad was a light sleeper, even when plagued by the fatigue of poison. It was a necessity of their culture, so often murderous and ready to spill divine crimson at even a moment's notice. Finding herself still blind, the raider's hand clutched at the knife she had slept alongside, and carefully she rolled off of the bed, listening to what was unfolding outside.

~

The small party of villagers who had crept through the black of night had spent their evening steeping their anger in ale. Their discontented mutterings about the Nordenfiir bitch that had interfered with their quarrel had, at last, grown into action.

The men flinched in the face of the bear that stood firm in defending the callous thief, arsonist and murderer within the hut.

"N-no! We demand justice!" One of them, a young man finally announced, finding bravery in inebriation as he waved around a basic shortsword. His voice emboldened the others.

"A life for a life!"

The men began to step closer, brandishing their weapons in the air like undisciplined hooligans. Growing ever angrier with each passing second without craved retribution.

"You northfolk are all the same!"

"Animals!"

"Pillagers!"

One, the brother of the dead man, pointed his blacksmith's hammer at the bear, his features twisted by both alcohol and grief.

"Give us the one-eyed bitch or we'll kill you too!"

~

Skad had spent this entire time attempting to blindly traverse the room, not anticipating how difficult it was to do anything without sight. Her limbs were still weak and clumsy and the Nordwiir stumbled into the wall before using it to move around the edges of the room.

Finding the door she stopped and stood at the edge of the frame, her ears straining as she listened out to hear what was unfolding outside. Despite her people's brutish nature, she did not always attack without a plan.

 

[Brenna]

It was a lot harder to mouth read when in the form of a bear but Brenna had the feeling she was probably glad of that. At least it gave her time to weigh up her options. With her back basically brushing the house she felt when the door cracked open just a jar but didn't turn to look at the only other person she had on her side. Given her state it might not be a lot of good to have her there at all. It was best to at least try and reason with them first.

"We will go, first light," she growled in that deep, thundering voice that had a few larger men gripping their axes and anxiously checking their exits.

"No!" The brother with his liquid courage stepped forward as though to take on the bear entirely by himself. "I will have justice," and before said courage could fail him, he hurled the axe right for Brenna's head. It was only the smell of his rising adrenaline that gave her the warning to duck so it buried itself in the timber of the hut behind her rather than her skull.

The bear sighed. Silence hung tense between them. Men stood agape torn between shock and fear.

Then Bre lurched forward with a roar.

 

[Skad]

Skad waited and listened, seeking out what would be the most opportune moment to make her move. As if it were an ordinary ambush she had already taken stock of the voices and had figured out a rough estimation of their numbers but without sight, it would be a foolhardy venture.

A thunk of metal burying into the wood of the hut was followed by a roar as any chance of negotiations broke down. Or had they? She saw her chance, and drew her blade down her palm, muttering a guttural prayer in her native tongue in preparation.

~

The men staggered backwards, one even falling onto his arse as the bear-bitch bounded forward, throat booming with further thunder. Doubt clashed in their minds against ale-aided bravery, questioning if they could even take down the beast, especially given that Harald had just thrown away his weapon.

An exchange of glances took place, both nervous and angry, hesitant to strike out any further. Fight or flight. Grips tightened upon hilts in white knuckle fervour. The youngest, the bravest took a step forward but was interrupted by a shout.

"STOP!"

The one-eyed murderer stepped out into the night air.

"NO NEED HURT BEARFUCKER!" Skad declared, her expression obscured by the dark still deadened and empty, her hands seemingly empty except for the blade tucked into her sleeve, "I COME AND DIE! I MAKE RIGHT!"

Her words were a twisted blend of truth and lie as she blindly stepped forward towards the cavalcade of shouting summoned by her appearance upon the scene.

 

[Brenna]

Using the fear that came often to people when a bear lunged at them was one of the greatest weapons a Nordenfiir had. It was why two men had run and three had tripped over themselves and were now sprawled on the floor all before Brenna had raised a paw to swipe. Of course, she did raise a paw with the intention of battering them away like flies when she felt the thread of tiny vibrations in her back paws which announced someone was talking and walking behind her. She swung her head round only to see Skad stumble-shuffling her way towards them. She caught a few words. Bearfucker, of course, but the rest seemed wrong coming from the Nordenwiir.

Oh, no...

She froze, caught between shifting back and tackling the woman back down or staying in her bear form should they need to make an escape.

"Skad..." she warned, her eyes darting between her and the villagers picking themselves up.

 

[Skad]

in the dark of night, the men did not think to look; did not notice the ominous drip of blood from her palm that marked a grim trail. She knew that it would evade their notice, her scant experience with southerners had shown them to hold less value in their women.

"I do right," she assured Brenna, fully believing her bloody intent to be true.

The villagers found courage in their apparent victory, their drunken hollering giving Skad direction to hobble towards in a weakened gait. Spittle-sprayed shouts of swears greeted her as the now unarmed brother surged forth, his words giving away his proximity to the Nordwiir butcher.

"MURDEROUS CUuuu-"

His words abruptly melted into a thick, wet gurgle, as in practised motion her blade was unsheathed from her sleeve, driven into the man's throat and ripped forth with startling speed.

Chaos erupted.

 

[Brenna]

Fu--

The villagers were silent for the single beat of a human heart and then they surged forward as one mass of anger and vengeance. It didn't matter that one was a bear and the other clearly more than capable of killing despite her wobbly state. They wanted blood. For their fallen friend a week dead and now for his brother who lay still twitching in the snow, clasping at a wound that would never shut, eyes bulging like a frog. Any hope of there being a peaceful end was gone as quickly as that mans life.

A tall man threw himself at Brenna, arms outstretched as if to grab around her neck and in a split second she shifted. The man's snarl turned into a wail of surprise as he went flying a good foot over the head of the now much shorter, petite girl in the bears footprints. She drew her own blade from her back and swung it in one graceful arc to the hamstring of the next assailant.

"We need to GO!" she shouted to her - better or for worse - partner.

 

[Skad]

Skad felt a lash of warm crimson splatter across her face as the man's heart pumped out of a gaping wound before his dying body finally toppled over. She savoured it in a great shuddering exhale, her usually passive expression turning feral.

<"HARAUDUR! TAKE THIS OFFERING!"> The Nordwiir bellowed with bared teeth, basking in the reverence of a fresh sacrifice as she raised her arms to the side. <"THEIR BLOOD IS YOUR BLOOD!">

In the passion of devotion, it seemed as if she had left herself open and one man surged forward, screaming bloody vengeance with his axe in hand. Still, she did not move and he bore down upon the barbarian with a mighty two-handed swing that buried the weapon straight into her chest with a deep and hideous THUD.

Yet she did not fall, instead, she grasped out with one hand for the man's arm, her blind eye turning towards him in righteous glory.

<"You have been chosen!">

Her other hand stabbed towards the vague direction of his face, the blade biting the man's cheek, face and throat as he desperately attempted to dodge the knife's repeated kiss. He wrenched at the axe, trying to unbury his weapon from her chest, twisting the bit through heavily scarred flesh.

 

[Brenna]

In a contrasting section of the unlikely field of battle, Brenna gently lowered one of her foes to the ground. There was a blossoming bruise on the side of his head where she was swung the pommel of her blade against his temple and cracked the skull with enough force to render him unconscious. She grimaced that he was going to wake in the cold snow but there was little she could do with the villages still coming for her. Maybe after...

Another pitchfork came for her. The feel of the air caught her cheek ahead of the blades arrival allowing her the warning she needed to bring her sword up. A soft hiss escaped clenched teeth as the motion jarred her sore muscles but she stood nevertheless and pushed back. They struggled before breaking. The peasant threw an untrained thrust high and Brenna dropped into a crouch and went low. The sword sept out and bit into her opponents thigh causing him to cry and fall. She wrenched the blade free, blood spurting up her side, then stepped over with an apologetic sorry, her eyes fixed instead on Skad.

"We go! SKAD! STOP!"

 

[Skad]

Skad and Haraudur's offering remained entangled in death's dance; her grip on the villager's arm was the only guidance for her blind blade and in turn, his grasp upon the axe buried within the Nordwiir's chest kept him bound to her. Feverish stabs and slashes continued to lacerate his face and neck as the blind woman continued her devoted assault.

At last, the villager slammed a boot into the northern woman's midsection as he gave the handle an almighty tug, finally releasing the axe from the chest of madness. The Nordwiir stumbled backwards, steam rising from the wicked rush of crimson that spurted forth from what should have been a mortal wound.

The bearfucker brayed and Skad's head turned to face the direction of objection with fervour etched across features.

"<WE SHALL DINE IN HEIDUR TONIGHT!>" Skad roared in triumph with bloodied brandished teeth, beating the hilt of her knife against the open gash in the centre of her chest. She longed for MORE. Yet even despite her Gods-given vigour, Skad still felt the fatigue from the poison in her being; the ache of muscle and bone. She could feel it in the ragged, cavernous depth of each breath.

The villagers' courage, however, had waned. The knife-wielding lunatic was perhaps a manageable task for them, but her tempered Nordenfiir companion now gave them further pause. The remaining few began to back away as their sense returned and with it their yellow-bellied natures, they would now take Brenna's offer without pause.

"Go then! Leave and take that festering cunt with you!" the axe-wielding man shouted to the petite blonde, taking cautious steps backwards.

 

[Brenna]

Brenna pinched her nose and shut her eyes briefly.

One... two... three...

The deep breathes to soothe her temper were a technique she had developed when she had been tasked with caring for the young cubs back in Faarin. But even those tiny terrors tried her patience less than Skad. Releasing the tension in her shoulders with forced control she opened her eyes and marched towards the blindly swinging Nordenwiir, the townsfolk not forgotten but certainly not the focus of her ire.

"We're leaving," she repeated in the bitten off, slow manner one employed with foreigners who couldn't speak common, and narrowly dodged the blind woman's swing. Grimacing, Brenna tried to dance within the woman's guard. "They're gone! You won. Now let's go." She attempted to grab the other woman's upper arm and boldly drag her away from the villagers taking tiny steps back towards their homes.

 

[Skad]

She was still caught in the midst of her vigour, the gift of the undying still coursing through her veins like divine fire. It didn't matter if yellow men fled in the face of her zealotry, what mattered was devotion in crimson spilt upon the snow.

Brenna's leaden words pierced the veil but yet it did not extinguish the flame that burned brightest for those Dark Gods, even as the woman slipped in and began to drag the barbarian away.

"WON!?" Skad roared with great, joyous vigour, bearing broken teeth stained by the blood in her mouth, "NOT MATTER!"

The Nordwiir grasped blindly at her forceful guide, searching for the bearfucker's hands so she could show the creature what it meant to be T R U E! Unless Brenna resisted, Skad would move to delve the woman's hands into the mortal axe wound in her chest that still pissed forth pagan blood.

Perhaps Brenna would be able to feel her heart.

"THIS MATTER!"

 

[Brenna]

Having been preoccupied with her own small skirmishes Brenna hadn't noticed the mortal wound that Skad had taken during the fighting. The scent of fresh blood covered the Nordenwiir but then, Brenna had simply assumed it belonged to the poor souls scattered like autumn leaves at her feet, their life essence staining the white snow.

What a horrifying way to find out she had been wrong.

Bre's attention had been split between her self-appointed patient and the townsfolk who still waved their weapons every now and then, so the sudden squelching feeling of blood, tissue and flesh flooding through her fingers was a horrendous, stomach-churning shock.

"Urgh!" The Nordenfiir jerked back in disgust, violently flicking her hand to rid it of... well of bits of Skad. "Shit, Skad," she began to tear off her jacket. "We need to get you somewhere dry, I can stitch it..." But did they have time? Every pulse of her heart forced more blood from her body. She might not have any left by the time Brenna found somewhere safe for her to lay.

 

[Skad]

Had Skad not been the patron saint of blood-fuelled fervour she might have laughed; perhaps at the deaf woman not realising that her hand had been inside the raider's chest cavity or maybe at the notion of needing a stitch.

"NO!"

With bloodied teeth still bared like the sated wolf, the Nordwiir blindly reached for Brenna's face, her leathery hands slick with crimson tribute. Unless the woman wriggled out of Skad's grip, she would tilt her face upwards, towards where the mortal wound lay.

"LOOK!"

The gift of the Dark Gods.

With a shuddering gasp, the Nordwiir's blessing began to take hold, the flesh of the fatal wound beginning to knit itself back together into a gnarled and leathery scar. The cut upon her hand from her brief prayer also began to mind, adding another jagged line of silver across desecrated palms.

Yet her sight did not return.

 

[Brenna]

Brenna was no stranger to bloodshed. Her father had been a seasoned warrior and had come home with his fair share of battle wounds, and she had fought in her own wars now. But the sight of flesh sewing itself back together was enough to rock even her iron stomach. This was not the Gods, this was sorcery. Brenna wrenched her back from Skads' tainted touch and then span three times on the spot and spat, making the sign of the Pale King across her breast.

As well as the lingering fear of magic she did not know, Brenna was angry too. If she could perform this magic then why had she wasted her time trying to save her life from poisons? Surely her Gods would have fixed that too? She had, after all, murdered someone and that appeared to be all they cared about their followers doing.

"You have magic," she accused flatly and then angrily began to lace her jerkin back up. "Why pretend you need help? Is this fun for you?"

 

[Skad]

There was a split second, a flicker in which the great kaldurhrafn's wings of doubt cast a shadow upon Skad's mind. Her blessing had healed wounds both major and minor but it had not touched upon stricken sight.

Brenna's accusatory tone ripped the Nordwiir away from her momentary falter.

"...not do pretend," she grimaced, her prior fervour having faded into the exhaustion that still had not shifted from her being. Her mortal chest heaved from the exertion and bloodied hands reached out to search for the other woman.

"Still not see," Skad continued, her viscera-smeared face an empty vacuum of emotion as she blindly grabbed around for her seeing-eye bear, "not leave me, Brenna."

 

[Brenna]

Brenna stood just out of the blindly groping woman's reach, every now and then taking another step back or to the side. She was still trembling with anger, a sense of betrayal, and the lingering effects of fear after the display of dark magic. She had known the Nordenwiir had access to such things, Kol had somehow give her back her hearing once, but to escape death like that... She shuddered. It would be so easy to leave her here. Perhaps her Gods would care for her or perhaps Brenna's would see to it she died and took a little less evil from the world.

Yet, she couldn't.

Giving a frustrated noise she caught one of those groping hands.

"One condition. No. More. Killing. You must promise."

 

[Skad]

Brenna's hand caught Skad's own and the one-eyed woman grasped the limb as if it were her only lifeline; a lifeline with a price to pay as the Nordenfiir offered her an uncomfortable ultimatum. There was nought but Skad's heavy breath between them as she considered the condition.

Was this to be her thorn? To put aside what made her Haraudur's blade and place blind trust into this sacrilegious bearfucker? If anything, it seemed to be the twisted machinations of Spotta. After all, if she had been meant to die, Brenna would have never come to her dying form.

She would pass Spotta's trial of trickery.

"No more killing," she repeated plainly, her expression having fully returned to that blank slate that unnerved friend and foe alike, "promise."

And with her vow spoken into the physical realm, Skad allowed fatigue to take her and collapsed upon the smaller woman. Her wounds may have been healed, but blood spilt had not been replenished. More rest would be needed.

 

[Brenna]

Skad was a good head taller than Brenna, so the hulk of a woman collapsing on top of the petite Nordenfiir earnt her more than a few choice cursewords that would have made even a Faarin sailor blush to hear them. Once she had managed to squirm her way out from underneath her, she sighed and put her hands on her hips. There was no way she was dragging her for the leagues they needed to cover in order to put a safe distance between them and any villagers who might get it into their head to try and launch another battle of vengeance. But then... how?

* * *
​

There were not many who frequented the Draugr woods, but if there had been any hunters, sprites of dark elves roaming they would have paused to see such an unusual sight. Through the thicket and fresh snow came a bear. Not an unusual thing on its own, though its fur was a brilliant golden like a freshly polished copper coin, instead of the usual pale or black shades native to these woods. She was also a far larger bear than the average, her shoulders putting her at the twice the height of an elf before she reared onto those great back paws. But what was stranger still was the body dangling with such tender care from her jaws, as though she carried her own cub and not - what one would suppose - her next meal.

Even in this form Brenna did not have her hearing but her other senses were stronger yet in the form of a bear. The smells told her there was game to be had nearby and the scent of fresh water. From what she could see too, the trees were beginning to thin as they grew closer to the rocky mountains of Prawo, the Mountains of Tragedy.

 

[Skad]

The inky black of the ocean gently rocked the longboat beneath Skad's feet. She was alone, a lone raider rowing through the hungering depths towards...

...towards what?

She turned her head, casting her single eye towards the horizon at her back, where blackened clouds gathered like ill omens.

She was sailing into the storm.

A single blink and the word turned to dark, the boat still jostling beneath her feet. Without sight, she felt the cold of the salt air sting her face, the creep of pains from wounds both old and new and the hot smell of...

...dog breath?

Skad opened her eye and found that she was still blind, and still in motion. The Nordwiir groaned, feeling as if she'd had been the Upphafinn of the Heimsfaraldur the night before. Her thoughts engaged slowly, retelling the events of before in brief flashes.

Poison. Brenna. Blind. Villagers. Promise.

Leathery hands reached upward, blindly grasping only to be confronted by the hungering maw of some giant beast. It was, disconcerting to say the least and the woman reacted accordingly.

<"I WILL DEVOUR YOU FROM THE INSIDE, BEAST!"> Skad declared in Wiir with violent intent, beginning to swing aimless fists backwards towards the creature's presumed face.

 

[Brenna]

If Brenna had been able to hear she might had known Skad was stirring and set her down so she didn't wake in such a fashion. But Brenna couldn't hear, and she was too busy focusing what senses she had on their surroundings and the numerous threats that lurked in these forests. So for Brenna the punch the snout came out of nowhere and was entirely uncalled for.

If bears could swear, she would of.

Instead what she did was roar and drop Skad, stumbling back a few steps and glowering at the woman now lying on the snow carpeted forest floor. In a series of mesmerising rainbow lights that went entirely unappreciated by the blind woman, she shifted back to her human form clutching at her still throbbing nose.

"Wha' was 'hat for?" she groaned.

 

[Skad]

Evidently, she had upset the great beast as she was released from its maw and dropped to the ground like some luck-stricken field mouse.

Skad swiftly realised that she had not been the unfortunate meal of some great beast but instead had been getting carried by her new apparent mother bear. The Nordwiir sat up, already getting scolded by the bearfucker, something which Skad imagined would become a running theme throughout their time together.

"I wake in mouth," she grunted in the general direction of Brenna, "think you do eat me."

Gingerly, the one-eyed woman began to rise to her own feet, feeling the familiar emptiness which often accompanied spilling an sea of heart's blood. Instinctively, she felt for the hilt of her knife, even if it had been rendered flaccid by promise.

"Where we are?" Skad asked bluntly, not accustomed to having to stop and ask for directions, "Where we go?"

 

[Brenna]

Brenna didn't think anything was broken, but if she had been in her human form it might have been a different story. She gingerly let go giving it one tender rub.

"Draugr woods," she grimaced even as she said the words, glancing almost on instinct towards the great towering mountains. In the Nordenfiir myths and legends this place had once been the site of a great and bloody war. It was said that the soil had been so drenched the blood of the fallen that it had died every tree red, which was the reasoning behind the unusual colours of oak. Despite the allure of the cherry shade of wood they were seldom ever cut down for no new ones grew. Once these died the wood would cease to exist.

"There's shelter, in the mountains. And herbs here that might help your sight," her tone turned sceptical towards the end; there was a part of her who still did not believe this was all one joke to the Nordenwiir.

 

[Skad]

Draugr woods?

Skad was familiar with the restless dead and it did not soothe her to know that they were presumably deep within their territory. It would seem that despite their diverging history, the northern peoples still shared some sense of culture. Nonetheless, the Nordwiir knew that she could not fight the undead in her current state, blinded and bloodless.

Such a thought filled her with unease.

"I hope you right," Skad grunted, her head turning uselessly at every rustle of leaf and creak of branch, "not like this place."

The one-eyed woman was about to march forth but before taking a single step realised that without sight she would be marching face first into every tree and foot first over every root. Her ailment would only slow them down. How frustrating.

"You go bear and I ride," Kin-Slayer demanded of Brenna without a hint of shame in her empty face.