Private Tales Endirinn

[Skad]

A shared meal; enough to gain the benevolence of a sorcerer, apparently. The Kol that walked these southern lands seemed a far sight from the Kol of The Lost Isles.

Guided by the heat of the flames and the Nordenfiir's voice, Skad gingerly moved to Brenna's side and crouched down beside her. A lone, worthless eye hunted for Brenna's face within the black void, the intention to stare down the other woman perfectly clear. The Nordwiir's face was ever empty of humanity yet riddled with scars of divine suffering, muddying all intent of a single look.

"We fought together too."

A pause, as Skad attempted to bind together yet more words of the common tongue.

"I killing children. Womens. Ones that running. I did for Kol and cause," Skad finally continued, showing a flash of chipped and missing teeth in a rare display of zeal in conversation, "how is same man?"

 

[Brenna]

Children.

Brenna's stomach threatened to empty itself. War was a consumer of all things but the lives of innocents was one everyone tried to spare. Cubs could not defend themselves; there was no honour in their deaths. The thought of the man who had given her such a gift, who had given her the confidence to speak once more, to rejoin the world doing that... It troubled her. She frowned and finished up with the mushrooms then popped them in the pot.

"I know not. Men are... difficult."

An understatement perhaps.

"Maybe it was pity," the thought hurt but it was one way to look at it. "Or curiosity. You probably know him better than I."

 

[Skad]

Skad didn't hold the same belief that men were difficult but had no intention of guiding Brenna into a conversation about castration as a solution to such a problem. She couldn't translate it for a start, but also such a deviation was meaningless.

"Not pity," Skad replied, gifting a glimmer of hope that the Nordwiir woman was capable of saying something that was moderately kind, "Kol is mad."

As she dashed that hope, Skad felt the strain in her legs from crouching, the fatigue from the poison still lingering within her flesh and she took to the ground, sitting cross-legged and allowing one side of her mottled face to feel the heat of the cooking fire.

"The Dark Gods speaking to him. All time whisper. Maybe you are..." Kin-Slayer paused, scraping the bottom of her mind's barrel for the right word, "...impotent. This why you finding me. Not know."

She tilted her head, offering Brenna her most quizzical empty stare (somehow).

"Maybe you are mad one? Why you still doing the helping? You know now I am done much bad killing."

 

[Brenna]

Brenna struggled to translate the word impotent into her native language, but when she did the quizzical frown turned into a sharp look of anger and her cheeks flushed with the humiliation of Skad's implication. Had Kor really given her that gift because he thought her impotent? In many ways that odd meeting had been what had spurred on Brenna's adventures to the far South, had led to her meeting so many people, and had given her her chance of life back. That it might have been given because her disability was a weakness that irritated him...

"I don't know!" she snapped and threw let the spoon clatter into the now steaming pot before getting to her feet. The wound in her side where the Spyder had caught her with one of it's pincers ached. She was tired. And now she was pissed. Bre made for the mouth of the cave then, with a backward glance muttered, "it'll be ready in ten minutes," before heading outside into the fresh snowfall.

 

[Skad]

The reaction was, unusual.

Skad was not opposed to provoking others, finding it useful to see what made them tick on the outside to better serve in bleeding what made them tick on the inside. However, on this occasion what had set Brenna's voice ablaze was as clear as the Nordwiir's own vision.

Kin-Slayer granted Brenna her respite and took the moment to gather her own thoughts.

There was too much uncertainty. Kol's link with this woman seemed much more fate than chance but that only muddied the waters further. Skad's purpose, she thought, had been clear. She was Haraudur's blade, her purpose was to spill life into his infinite cup and in turn she held His blessing but what use was a blinded blade? Why wouldn't His blessing heal her vision? Was she no longer worthy? Had He abandoned her in spite of the crimson expanse that had given?

Why?

Her mind came back to Kol, the inherent mistrust woven into Nordwiir bones seeking to cast blame on others in the face of adversity. Voice of the Dark Gods, breaking bread and benevolence with fucking Nordenfiir! Skad drew her knife, instinctively looking to ritual bloodletting in uncertainty but as she poised the tip of the blade upon the back of her hand she hesitated.

She had never hesitated before.

<"Fuck! A curse upon this miserable land!"> Kin-Slayer spat in her shaken native tongue before throwing the blood-weathered blade with reckless abandon into the vast sea of darkness.

 

[Brenna]

Brenna stormed away from the mouth of the cave with tears stinging her eyes.

I want to go home.

It was the miserable thought of a young girl, not a warrior, and that shamed her all the more. It didn't stop her from thinking it though as she hugged herself and trudged through the evergreen forest. The snow was coming in thicker now. If her nose was to be trusted there was a storm brewing that would no doubt last the night. Hopefully, Skad's vision would return and on the morrow they could part ways. Brenna could go back to her life and hope she never saw a Nordenwiir again. She kicked a pocket of snow.

Something she immediately regretted.

The snare snapped around her ankle and with a yelp, Brenna was launched upside down into the air. With a growl she tugged her axe loose and attempted to swing for the rope but below patches of snow detached themselves from the banks and revealed themselves. Brenna was too distracted with the rope to notice and with their scents masked her other senses left her blind to the Fae's approach. A sharp pain flared up in her neck causing her to stop mid swing and bring a hand up with a curse, thinking some early rising bug had tried to make a feast of her flesh. Instead she removed the dart with a frown and her eyes swung down.

Fae.

 

[Skad]

The sound of the fire punctuated the doubt-ridden silence, the occasional crackle of kindling strangely accusatory.

Her apprehension was alien, with Skad having never before found any reason to question the Dark Gods. Amongst her people, she was both renowned and reviled for her fanaticism; a trail of bodies both friend and foe testament to her conviction. She had callously executed so many fellow Nordwiir for even showing the barest throat of doubt towards their faith and now, now...

...where was Brenna?!

More than ten minutes had passed and the accursed bearfucker had yet to return. Kin-Slayer wouldn't have blamed the woman if she had simply decided to leave and never return, but Skad suspected that her foolish good nature wouldn't have allowed her to do so. A reliable creature, too true to her word, even at her own detriment.

Skad had little time for Brenna's sulking, less so in the face of her own shaken faith and got to her feet, endeavouring to drag the woman back to the cave to finish what she had set out to do.

Blindly, she followed the sensation of frigid air out to the mouth of the cave, her steps slow and deliberate as to avoid tripping over any debris. It was only when the first flurries of snowfall touched upon her face that Skad even knew she was outside, at the very least the direction of the flakes gave her a modicum of bearing.

"Brenna. You out here?" Skad asked, her only answer the growing whistle of the wind. She felt a prickle of annoyance upon the nape of her neck, but also one of unease. <"Where the fuck are you?">

 

[Brenna]

The world outside the cave was unnaturally quiet.

The background noises of every forest were gone - no birds, no rustling of the leaves, no quiet crunch beneath tiny paws. Even the snow seemed to hold its breath as it fell onto the silent world. The storm was coming in thick and fast meaning that even if Skad had been able to see her vision would have done her little good. Of course, the fae did not know she could not see. They slid quietly from one trunk of the tree to the next, shadowing her every step.

A giggle finally broke the silence.

 

[Skad]

It fast became evident in Brenna's lack of an answer that she had not simply stepped outside to commune with her ridiculous feelings. Skad, still absolute in the belief that the Nordenfiir's obliging nature wouldn't have allowed her to abandon her came to a new conclusion.

Trouble.

The blind woman edged carefully into the forest, shuffling feet through the snow so as to catch the warning tangle of errant roots lest she tripped. the ominous hush around her deafening in its warning. When nature stilled, it was a sign of a greater threat.

There came a titter, and she stopped.

The threat, however, was wasted on a woman unburdened by notions of death. Skad refused to succumb to the fear of a cowering prey animal. Her face was a grizzled inscrutable hollow and her arms folded across her chest to give a suggestion that she was unimpressed.

And she was, by her giggling assailant, Brenna's carelessness and the Dark Gods' abandonment.

"You having something of mine," Skad announced bluntly, not even bothering to move her head in the direction of the amusement, her assumption of where Brenna was groping in the dark alongside her eye, "you are giving it back now."

 

[Brenna]

From behind the trees a ethereal figure emerged. The fae had blue-tinged skin and a sweep of snow white hair tied back at his nape. Various braids were decorated with dead skulls and the tiny finger bones of his kill and in the gentle breeze they made an eerie mocking jingle. There was a deadliness to every angle despite the beauty of his face and when he smiled his teeth were filed into sharp points.

All things Skad would not know of course.

"You are not the same as the other," the fae almost sounded annoyed as he cast his eyes up and down. "Broken too, but not the same," other fae emerged from behind trees. None of them held weapons yet but then, perhaps they didn't need it. "We do not need one like you."

 

[Skad]

The hollow rattle of bone was a familiar sound, offering a measure of home comfort alongside evident threat.

She didn't budge in the face of disapproving appraisal, although inwardly felt the creeping disadvantage of being seen to be broken. Was her blindness so evident? Head craned in the direction of the voice, staring blindly the unknown foe. She refused to be prey.

"No. Not the same," Skad echoed, her sentiment implying that she was, in fact, much worse.

"You are not understanding. The other is mine."

 

[Brenna]

The fae leaned against the tree and picked a bit of dirt from beneath his fingernails.

"Perhaps you should keep a better eye on your things," his companions sniggered and a cruel smile touched his lips. "She is for the games of my King. He enjoys watching the bears tear one another apart. You should consider yourself lucky and walk away. It is not often we are charitable."

Whilst he spoke the other fae drew closer.

 

[Skad]

His mockery allowed Skad a moment to collect the sounds of mirth around her, giving her a greater idea of just how badly outnumbered she was.

No sight, no blade and shaken faith and yet the Nordwiir's stoicism refused to falter. Either a sign of great resolution or detached psychosis. She would regain her sight, or she would die and at this point, the order of those events seemed to be shifting.

Would the eternal fields of Heidur reject her soul?

"You giving broken bear to your king for fight?" Skad questioned, allowing a flicker of distaste to curl at the edge of her lip, "Pah!"

Her crash course in negotiation was questionable at best.

"Weak blood and cripple bearfuckers. I see you not liking king very much if that your offering."

 

[Brenna]

Several of the beings hissed with anger but the one who had done all the talking gave them a sharp look and they fell quiet.

"Her blood is not weak, I've tasted it. She comes from a line of warriors," the others murmured in that odd language again. They were clearly proud of their catch and did not take kindly to it being insulted.

"Do you think you can do better, Cursed One? Perhaps we set you against the bear and whoever wins can meet our king."

 

[Skad]

Managing to goad the enemy was usually a good sign, it offered a glimpse into their heads without the need for an axe. Goading the enemy during peaceful negotiation, however, was perhaps less than wise.

Skad knew that Brenna wasn't weak, at least not physically, her distaste for the Nordenfiir not clouding the judgment of her travelling companion. The question of the woman's compassion was a different story, at least from Kin-Slayer's perspective. That was Brenna's weakness, but without that weakness, Skad would have already been dead.

Actually...

"I do better," the 'Cursed One' claimed flatly with a shrug of the shoulders, arms unfolding, "my bear soft in heart, very mercy. You taste, you know. I fight all other bear for you, making much blood and death but I not fighting her. Wasting strong nose, finding mushrooms good. Much worth in that here."

She sniffed as if to punctuate her next point.

"And belong to me."

 

[Brenna]

Again that odd chatter broke put amongst the gathered fae in their language made of ice and blood. With a wave the leader bade them hush as he stepped towards Skad. Despite his arrogance in the power he possessed he was wide enough to not get within reach of her arms; a battering was not enough to kill one of the silver blood but it didn't mean it didn't hurt.

"Prove it," he invited with a cruel smile that set the cronies chittering in amusement. "You will both perform for us tomorrow, whoever is better shall be taken to the King to fight in his tourney. Do we have a deal?"

The very air seemed to tremor as it waited for her answer.

 

[Skad]

Perform.

What did that even mean? It wasn't fight, battle, kill or anything that was tangible in meaning. Skad took silent umbrage with the ambiguity, far more than the notion that she had to prove herself to these...these...

...people?

Skad's lone eye stared in the direction of the speaker as if she could have discerned what they were by sheer force of concentration alone. She was not of these lands and while they shared a similar geography with the Lost Isles, their threats remained vastly different. Cause of Nordwiir death was usually other Nordwiir.

"Fine. I do a deal," she answered bluntly, with very little intention of staying true to it. Seeing no further room to manoeuvre in their dialogue, her machinations focused on the chance that 'tomorrow' offered.

"Now where is my bear?"

 

[Brenna]

Magic crackled in the air as the deal was made. Skad would suddenly feel a stinging sensation somewhere on her body where the deal made its impression on her skin, something that would only fade when it was complete. On the male fae the deal appeared on the back of his hand in the shape of a decapitated bears head dripping blood.

With nothing but a sinister grin he stepped forward and placed that hand on her shoulder. The world suddenly tilted as he slipped them into the Ley Lines then almost as soon as it started it righted.

The air was no longer full of falling snow but it was still cold and damp. There was rock beneath her feet now instead of snow and if she wandered about her new surroundings she would find they were small and cramped; a cell with nothing but a stale straw bed and a solid door. She would also find exactly what she had asked for. Brenna lay on the straw with her face mottled with bruises and a bust lip. Her breathing was difficult indicating a broken rib or two and she did not so much as open her eyes when Skad appeared so deep asleep was she.

 

[Skad]

Oh.

The normally detached features of the Nordwiir flickered with confusion for but a moment, as the back of her own hand experienced a peculiar prickling of pain. The mark, unbeknownst to a blind eye made its home amongst the tapestry of scar tissue.

It would have seemed that she had made a terrible error.

A hand upon her shoulder caused Skad's body to instinctively shift, ready to fight hand and tooth right there but instead came a peculiar sensation, a loss of equilibrium for not a moment that was all the more peculiar given the black void that she called her vision.

In spite of this, Kin-Slayer could feel that her surroundings had changed. What kind of cursed magic was this?

The woman stood motionless, set in stone in coiled tension as that uncharacteristic doubt began to creep back in. Could all have really been Spotta's design? Weaving cruel mockery upon cruel mockery? No, it seemed too much. Was this divine punishment from the Dark Gods? Had their heard the uncertainty in her mind; witnessed the apprehension in her blade? Lost. Blind. Forsaken.

But she had given them everything!

Skad laughed. It was a great terrible laugh that ripped forth from the depths of her being, equal parts terror from drowning in the unknown yet blazing with a frenzied violent fury. She laughed and laughed and laughed, balling gnarled hands into trembling fists before screaming at the universe and everything in it.

<"YOU FUCKING BASTARDS!">

 

[Brenna]

Laughter echoed around the cell and then it was gone, replaced by the sound of a faint groan on the ground as Skad trampled over Brenna's hand.

The Nordenfiir felt like death. In fact, she was fairly certain death felt better than this. After she had been cut down from the rope she had woken to the fae slicing a line down her forearm and tasting her blood. The savages had barely said a word in Common and when they had realised she couldn't hear they had found it even more funny to talk in their native language. She got the impression they had been shouting at her like she was dumb as well as deaf. It was only when she had attempted to escape and had brutally mauled two of them that they'd actually realised she was no idle thread, hearing or not.

But only ash and iron could hurt the fae and so, Brenna had lost. And paid for it.

She rolled onto her back and coughed as pain seared through her ribs and poorly bandaged arm. When she cracked open her eyes to see who it was, expecting the returned fae, she was surprised instead to see Skad.

"What are you... doing here? Did you drink your soup?" she rasped.

 

[Skad]

In maddening hysterics Skad lost awareness of her own physical being, the void that she now knew as her world seemed normal as she staggered backwards and stepped on something that softly objected. The woman whirled around at the sound, more than prepared to tear the throat out of whatever creature lay beneath her.

A voice, however, revealed that it was Brenna.

"No!" Skad exclaimed uncharacteristically, her usual stoicism ground under the heel of slipping faith, "I go to finding you!"

There had been so many missteps on her part. She had not bothered to drink the concotion made and worse still, had thrown her blade away in anger; leaving her blind and unarmed in a foreign land filled with so many unfamiliar threats. If anything, so much of this was Kin-Slayer's own fault but instead, she chose to believe that her soul had been cursed.

"Where is here!? Who are these people!?"

 

[Brenna]

Brenna wasn't sure whether to be annoyed her hard won mushrooms were now sitting in a cave, probably burnt, or touched that Skad had cared more about her than she had the return of her eyesight.

"Fae," she coughed and winced as her ribs screamed at her in protest. She didn't bother to ask whether or not Skad's people knew of them; the Night Court was a haunting nightmare up and down the Isles. It had probably been the woman's lack of sight that had left her unable to identify them. Well... she hoped that was the reason. "They like to hunt my people for sport. I'm not sure why they would have bothered you though," she had hoped they would leave the Nordenwiir alone. It had been one of her few thoughts before the pain had rendered her unconscious.

 

[Skad]

Skad raised an eyebrow as she belatedly noted the sound of injury in Brenna's splutter. Ever seeking the advantage in battle, it may have been fruitful that the Nordenfiir was hampered. If they really were forced to fight then the other woman's wounds were a great boon, her own chances unarmed were slim to none otherwise.

Her brutal curiosity turned to confused frustration, however, brow knotting as Brenna revealed the name of their foe. Fae. She had never heard of such beings, but if they hunted bearfuckers then it suggested elements of both cunning and cruelty.

"Not knowing Fae," she admitted, crouching down at Brenna's side, "but I talking with them, demand my bear back."

The Nordwiir held up her hand, revealing to Brenna the given mark that evaded a sightless eye.

"What they did to my hand?"

 

[Brenna]

"You made a deal with them?!" Brenna's eyes shot open and she tried to sit upright but ended up launching into another coughing fit. Despite the watery eyes she managed to take a glance at Skad's hand and confirm her worst fears. With a groan she laid back down and draped one arm over her eyes. Now they were both doomed.

"What exactly did you promise? This is very important, the mark won't go until you both do as you say."

 

[Skad]

Skad flinched at Brenna's sudden outburst, falling backwards from her crouched position and onto her arse. One didn't need to have a grasp of the common tongue to tell that she had seemingly made a regrettable choice in her attempt to negotiate.

"You said no more killing," Skad offered, holding up the mark to her own face as if she could hope to see it, "so I did talking." Naturally, Skad's sudden pacifism was rooted more in concern for her own vision than a ridiculous promise but Brenna didn't need to hear that part.

"He wanting you to fight bear for games. I say I fighting bear instead but not you. He say we both perform tomorrow, better fights in king's... tourney," that last word evaded her somewhat, "and I agreeing there."

She lowered her hand, to look quizzically in the Nordenfiir's direction.

"What does the mark do?" Skad asked, suddenly concerned that alongside cursed sight and cursed soul, she was in possession of an actual fucking curse. "What if not doing deal?"

Nordwiir logic then made a suggestion.

"What if cutting off hand?"