Private Tales Endirinn

[Brenna]

Brenna wanted to groan but she settled for just running her hands down her face in silent exasperation. A deal. A deal to fight. Even worse, it was a deal with so many holes in it Bre would have thrown it out had it been a scarf. The fae were no doubt off in this fort celebrating and laughing at their stupidity. All because now - now! - the bloody lug of a Nordenwiir had decided to listen to her. Pale King give her strength.

"It will just appear somewhere else," talking hurt. Thinking hurt more. No matter how she tried to turn the situation they were in she could find no way out of it. They would both fight and whoever was better, would be sent to the King. "The Deal forces you to stick to the agreement. No cheating. No way out. You said you would fight so you must fight, and whichever of us wins will go to the King to fight in his tourneys. The only way out of the deal is killing the one you made it with," at least it didn't sound like the fae had managed to ensure Skad had promised no harm could come to him.

"Tomorrow gives me time I guess." If only she could heal ribs that quickly.

 

[Skad]

Skad briefly pondered what manner of strange magic would ensure that she lived up to her side of the bargain. Would it be worth finding out? If her consistent misfortune within these foreign lands were any indicator, then no, probably not.

"He saying perform," the Nordwiir objected gruffly, remaining upon the floor, "not fight."

Was it cheating if those were the words?

"Not able to doing something else? Song? Dance?"

Ah yes, deaf and blind, singing and dancing. Even Skad, herself felt like an idiot with that suggestion. Killing seemed to be back upon the table, but then how could Kin-Slayer kill a faceless foe who she knew nothing about other than a voice? Ah, but there was one way out.

She looked in the Nordenfiir's general direction, strangely calm in her decision.

"Brenna. I die tomorrow."

 

[Brenna]

Actually... She did have a point. Perform was not the same as fight but, if they were not fighting one another then she didn't think dancing or singing to their enemy would stop them being cleaved in two. But if they were put against one another... No, no. Skad still hadn't negotiated release in that deal.

"No you're bloody not!" Brenna scowled and pointed a finger. "I have not gone through all this for your eye for you to bloody die, blood and ashes!" and, she realised with a start, she meant it. She didn't want Skad to die even after making her question a part of her life she considered a miracle.

"We're getting out of here alive. Both of us. And then I'm going to fix that eye," she huffed.

 

[Skad]

Skad was...confused.

The Nordwiir couldn't fathom Brenna's rampant determination, just as alien as everything else in these southern lands. Was she really so driven to fix her sight? Were the Nordenfiir some breed of oath-sworn lunatics who had to stay true to their oath lest they perished?

Why, she wanted to ask, why do you want to save me when I would have killed you a hundred times for so much less?

"Brenna..."

A peculiar sensation came over the woman, settling within the pit of her empty gut like rotten kaltku. Sour. Melancholy. Troubling. It was an unfamiliar feeling that caused her blade-worn face to crease with consternation, blind gaze turning to the floor as Skad considered it.

Was this guilt?

"Okay. We both live," she finally conceded with an uncharacteristic mumble, "but you must do resting now. Me too."

 

[Brenna]

Brenna was in no mood for argument but it was still a surprise Skad gave her none. She'd prepared for the blunt lecture on how stupid it was that they both fight and potentially die, and she had even prepared her counter argument.

"Yes, good," she huffed when she puzzled out what the mumbling meant. With a soft hiss she managed to get herself onto the her less bruised side and pushed some of the limp straw into a pile that could pitifully be described as a pillow. "Sleep."

A bucket of ice cold water was thrown over the pair the next morning.

Brenna woke with a gasp and as she did every injury from her ribs to her split lip screamed at her in protest. A fae with a bears head tattooed on his hand grinned down at her when he saw the hate and anger in his eyes. Wisely he got no closer though; no, he had learnt that lesson yesterday.

"Get up. The fight begins in an hour."

 

[Skad]

Sleep found her easily, even in spite of the uncomfortable manner that Skad chose for rest; propped up against what served as the wall of their cell, head slumped forward. She was thankful for the fatigue that allowed for rest as remaining awake in rumination of feelings was less than ideal upon the eve of battle.

Dreams did not come, Skad's realm of sleep as black as her realm of waking. A sign that the Dark Gods had truly abandoned her now.

<"Fuck!">

The sudden jolt of ice water wrenched Kin-Slayer from her slumber with a sudden swear, her hand reflexively going for a blade that wasn't even there anymore. The situation's reality slowly came back into focus as the voice in the darkness spoke.

As she stood, Skad cast a quizzical glance in the direction of her pained companion, solitary emerald silently asking Brenna if she had fathomed their way out of this. From sound alone, she seemed in no fit state for the fight.

"What? No food?"

 

[Brenna]

The fae threw the bucket to the side and left without a backward glance, his malicious laughing ringing through the room even when the door slammed shut behind him. Brenna ground her teeth.

"I don't think you would want to eat it anyway," she sighed and then pushed herself to her feet. The icy water made her shirt cling to every inch of her skin that was oddly comforting for the bruises beneath. It seemed to numb the pain enough that she could actually move. Carefully she tested rising her axe arm above her head and then the other. Fire burned in her lungs but she breathed through it.

"They will give you weapons," Brenna said when she noticed Skad groping at her empty hip. "It's fun for them whoever gets hurt."

 

[Skad]

That was a resounding no to breakfast then.

She understood the cruelty behind it, the drive and desperation that an empty stomach could provide. Starving prisoners would fight tooth and nail for survival, devolving into a primal state of being. Whereas well-kept warriors provided a different flavour. Stronger. Faster. Smarter. A skilful fight worth watching for reasons beyond base suffering.

"Good," she replied gruffly, removing the stained and weathered cloth that covered her missing eye, revealing the empty socket underneath, "missing knife very much."

Without any shred of explanation, Skad began to strip. A collection of battle-ravaged cloth, fur and leather was removed piece by piece as if the Nordwiir were preparing to take a leisurely dip into a babbling brook.

Kin-Slayer's shedding revealed a macabre tapestry; a collection of pious self-inflicted markings, faded battle scars and perhaps, most notably, remnants of mortal wounds that had failed to fell her. A slit throat, a punctured lung, a disembowelment and so many more. Brenna herself had likely not forgotten the thick, furious scar tissue that sat proudly upon her chest from their skirmish with the villagers. How could she? Skad had forced the woman's hands upon it in frenzied delirium.

"How is your pain, Brenna?"

As if this was all perfectly normal behaviour, the Nordwiir began to limber up, stretching out lengthy limbs that felt far leaner since this ordeal had first begun.

 

[Brenna]

Brenna couldn't look. The pain that she must have felt at every one of those wounds made her cringe on the woman's behalf. Of course, she doubted that Skad had so much as blinked at them. The experience back at the small fishing village had been enough to tell her her companion held no fear about pain or tearing apart her body for her twisted Gods. Her gaze instead roved the walls keeping Skad's face just within sight to catch any words she should mouth.

She quirked a brow when it happened to be about her own health.

"I can shift, so it'll do," there was no use complaining about it. "I've been thinking on your deal... the fae said whoever did the best. But if we are both matched..."

 

[Skad]

Her unspoken nudity may have seemed like lunacy in the hour of bloodshed, but it held two specific purposes.

The first was purely psychological, seeking to rebalance the scales already firmly set against her by her blindness. Skad did not know who, or what she would be fighting but the sight of such unhinged savagery and evidence that she had survived injury beyond comprehension would more than likely give an opponent pause, better still, doubt.

More importantly, it served as a sense. Without sight, the Nordwiir would need as much sensation as possible to fathom her surroundings. Touch could serve to tell a hand from a foot, a blade from a hilt. A bristle of passing air could make sense of her enemy's location, something not possible while draped in her climate-appropriate garb.

"If we are matched," Skad began plainly, crouching down and stretching out her shoulders and back while still looking to Brenna's general direction, "and if what you saying is true, I must fight."

Kin-Slayer was struggling to find much in the way of viable solutions; violence and death had always been her answer to problems.

"You break me. You make sure I can no longer standing."

 

[Brenna]

Brenna grimaced. The truth was she wasn't sure if she could break Skad even if she wanted to. The woman defied the laws that governed this world by standing before her right now with all those scars. She should have been dead a hundred times over not looking as though she could wrestle a kelpie to the floor with her bare hands.

Gods, would they use kelpies? The Nordenfiir's stomach churned with the thought.

"If we're matched neither of us wins, neither go to the King," Brenna continued. "We have to win and lose the same," though how that would be possible she had no idea.

 

[Skad]

Skad paused mid-strech, digesting Brenna's words or at the very least, attempting to. There was too much uncertainty at play; they didn't know who they would be fighting nor what to do if against one another. Was it to the death, or to the satisfaction of the Fae?

"We think on feet if need," came the largely unhelpful response as taut shoulders rolled loose the knots of a shit sleep, "you are smart, Brenna, I trusting."

Slowly, Skad stood, mottled hands wrapping around her own ankles on the ascent, sinewy limbs flexing into the stretch, the canvas of scars upon her back arcing.

"We both perform. Who does better is taken to King," she mused, making sure to keep her head facing the Nordenfiir, "one of us will go to the King."

She blinked, which in Skad's case was always a disconcerting wink.

"What happening to other?"

 

[Brenna]

I trusting.

Brenna's eyes teared up. She was certain this was as close to a compliment as Skad ever got and as battered and tired as she was it threatened to push her over the emotional edge. She blinked the tears back which threatened to spill and nodded along with what Skad mouthed even though the blind woman couldn't see. Yes, if they were matched then maybe they could beat this deal. Maybe they could...

What happening to the other?

Brenna grimaced.

"Then I'll be a nice fur coat for someone," because it never crossed her mind she would be better than Skad. The door rattled and a tall fae filled the doorway.

"It is time," he intoned and reached in to roughly grab a hold of the pair.

They were marched down winding corridors of ice and jet black rock in a steady incline upwards. They passed no windows to indicate where they were in the great North but Brenna was certain they hadn't left the Tundra. Or at least, she hoped they hadn't. She tried to recall what she had heard about the fae of the North fighting but it slipped away from her every time she reached. The corridors soon turned into something more resembling the halls of a manor or great hall. Pelts acted as rugs along the floor and tapestries of gruesome hunting scenes hung on the walls. A sharp turn to the left and suddenly they were shove through another door and out into the brilliant sunshine.

The arena was built out of ice and snow and with the sun high in the sky it made the snow glow. Brenna squinted into the harsh light and her eyes took time to adjust. Others were being shoved out of doorways to the north, east and west of them too, about twenty including themselves. Brenna described it all quietly to Skad.

"In the middle are a pile of weapons - my axe and I can see your knife but there's other things too,"

With the fae positioned high above them Brenna was unable to read his lips to hear him as he suddenly roared.

"SILENCE! You are here to compete for the honour of performing for the king. Your first challenge is to survival to the final five," there were a few whoops from the gathered crowd. The guard who had brought them out returned to the doorway, his job clearly to stop any from trying to escape.

"Begin."

 

[Skad]

Without her surroundings to ponder during their march of death, Skad's mind turned to the coming fight. She held doubts that her blood was still sacred to those Dark Gods, meaning that no matter the offering, a mortal wound would be just that.

Just one blow and it would be over; she couldn't remember ever feeling this vulnerable.

The Nordwiir should have felt lost. Blind and abandoned, like a defenceless infant left upon the altar for sacrifice, as bare feet felt the first biting cold of the snow.

But she didn't.

Skad had her sight, it merely belonged to a Nordenfiir called Brenna. The description of their surroundings offered a scant chance at survival, but sometimes a scant chance was all that one needed. In defiance of Hauradur, Skad bit into her palm, tearing a morsel of flesh out so that her crimson would flow. In a practised ritual, she squeezed drops of her salt and iron upon the snow as a blessing before reaching for Brenna's cheek, smearing blood upon her as she tilted the woman's head in the direction of her own.

<"My blood is your blood,>" she spoke in her guttural native tongue before informing her companion of the game at hand, "we fight to the final five."

"Begin."

"NOW GO!"

Sentimentality was gone in an instant as Skad burst into a reckless sprint, as she imagined most of the participants would. The roar of the crowd hampered the ability to hear any of the others with the exception of those beside her but they were not the focus.

Surely, it was the weapons?

No.

For when Skad reached the clatter of men and women attempting to arm themselves she leapt, immediately tackling the unfortunate warm body that happened to be her opposite number to the ground. Kin-Slayer could have impaled herself with such blind faith but she had never known what it meant to fight with caution.

 

[Brenna]

What an odd pair, Brenna shook her head to herself as Skad translated what she could not hear. Without each other they would have both died by now she was certain. Maybe that was what the fae wanted. She could scent other Nordenfiir here, a smattering of humans and other races she couldn't identify; they had choices clearly. If the two with defects died would it really matter to them?

Skad didn't need to say the word go for Brenna to know she needed to run, not with how the Nordenwiir charged off like a possessed animal towards the fray. The Nordenfiir could only stare for a moment wide-eyed with shock before tearing it after her partner towards the weapons.

Skad took one man almost entirely off his feet and the pair fell sprawling into the dirt but they were not the only ones. Others who had come out in groups had also turned on one another and were using teeth and nails and brute strength to rid themselves of an enemy. Maybe working as a pair would be the way Bre and Skad could win this. Matched. Her body screamed with the agony of her sprint but as a woman leapt for her - another Norden from the scent of her - she ignored its protests entirely. Brenna his the floor hard to duck the woman's attack and skidding along the snow and ice almost entirely to the weapons stash. She grabbed blindly for the first weapon and as her opponent came back for her she swung the quarterstaff clumsily at the woman's face.

 

[Skad]

In the wake of the collision Skad scrabbled to mount her unknown victim, who, winded by her tackle flailed weakly in protest. Her hands roving blindly until they grabbed ahold of human ears.

She felt the kick of legs beneath her, the hands of her quarry grabbing and pulling at determined arms in an attempt to wrestle the Nordwiir off. From the sound of struggle, Skad could gather that the person she had attacked was female. Not that it mattered.

A thrust forward clattered skulls with a thick thud, as Skad drove her head into the woman's own, guided by the grip upon ears.

She felt the nails digging into her arms lessen but the struggle still persisted.

Thud.

The second headbutt split Kin-Slayer's own head, the warmth of crimson trickling down her feral features, but the loosening grip of the other woman confirmed that she was stunned. There was little hesitation as Skad followed up, pulling her victim's head upwards to reveal her throat, which was unceremoniously torn out by savage Nordwiir teeth.

That was one.

 

[Brenna]

The woman caught the end of Brenna's quarterstaff easily and gave the girl a disgusted look; clearly she had expected better. Her lips moved but Brenna did not understand the language and used the moment instead to use her opponents strength against her. Instead of tugging the weapon free like the woman expected her to she rammed it into her. The butt of the quarterstaff rammed into her abdomen making her keel over, and Brenna dropped her end and turned for another weapon.

This time she found her axe.

Feeling far more at ease with the weapon she turned back to her opponent with one violent swing, forcing her backwards. She stumbled, still winded, and Brenna took the advantage to bury the crescent moon blade into her neck. Wrenching it free whilst the woman spouted blood she turned to look for Skad. The naked woman was not hard to miss and with grim determination she set off across the arena to help.

 

[Skad]

Before Skad could even consider her next move the side of her head exploded, a heavy blow sending her already blood-spattered form rag-dolling away to the side. At the very least, she had the good fortune of being hit with something blunt, unbeknownst to her by a hulking Orc with a wooden hunting cudgel.

She groaned upon the snow, her hand reaching to touch her throbbing Nordwiir skull that pissed forth hot blood, giving rise to steam in the frigid air.

An irritated grunt gave Kin-Slayer a sliver of information as to her attacker's location as she attempted to stand but even blind, her equilibrium had been shaken by the blow. It was a miracle that she was still conscious, never mind moving. Getting upon hand and knee was the best that Skad could muster before the great boom of a voice announced itself.

"Stay down, stupid girl!"

The Nordwiir couldn't see the cudgel held high above the Orc's head in a meaty two-handed grip, about to be brought down upon the back of Skad's skull.

 

[Brenna]

The kiss of metal into flesh never came. Instead it was a hot spray of blood that sprayed across Skad's face and then the headless corpse of the orc slumped forward. Stood over him was the golden furred bear with the creature's head clamped within her strong jaws. The bear snarled and tossed it to the side spitting out a clump of blood from inside her mouth.

Usually the change between her forms was sweet and addictive but with the agony in her broken ribs it had felt more like being melded in the blacksmiths forge. She couldn't risk changing back now lest she pass out from the pain. Instead she nudged Skad with her blood-soaked nose and a quiet huffing into her hair.

"Can you stand?"

 

[Skad]

Skad heard as the anticipation of the crowd for an execution turned to a frenzied furore as instead they were gifted a decapitation. She was none the wiser until the vibrations of a heavy fallen corpse let her know that her uncanny ability to avoid death didn't need the backing of the Dark Gods, a deaf Nordenfiir would do just as well.

The huff of Brenna's snout was a welcome sensation as blood continued to pour forth from her split skull.

"You are cursed to saving me," Skad sputtered at Brenna before laughing maniacally and pressing her face into Brenna's fur. It wasn't just a brutal concussion that brought the Nordwiir to life but the very presence of death and violence; it brought true vigour to a brutal soul.

She pulled back so Brenna could read her lips, "I will stand but needing stop blood first," Skad spoke, scrabbling for the fallen carcass next to them so that she could scavenge scraps of cloth to wrap tightly around the flowing wound.

Most of the other combatants offered the pair a wide berth, either too preoccupied with fighting for their survival or looking to pick off the isolated and weak.

However, there came a new set of boots in the death-sullied snow. They belonged to a woman who stood slightly taller than Skad and was clad in an assortment of leather and furs reminiscent of the Nordwiir's own shed clothing. The core difference came in hair, a wild matted tangle of umber dreads cascaded down the woman's back, giving her a feral edge alongside sharpened canines. Rather interestingly and unbeknownst to Skad, her forehead was marked by the image of a drowned wolf.

<"Spotta's trickery truly knows no bounds,"> came Wiir words laced with venom from the approaching woman, whose hafted axe already trickled with the life of another, <"Or do I really see Kin-Slayer, naked and rutting with bears?">

For a brief second Skad paused, seeming slightly confused before completely ignoring the woman and turning her head in the opposite direction towards Brenna. "That Marga I thinking," she informed her companion, which the blind woman considered to be useful instead of getting goaded, "she like your people...but us," the Nordwiir continued to explain (badly), wrapping the makeshift bandage around her head, "not bear bu-"

<"Look at me, cunt! You have forsaken your Hæfurkappi! You have forsaken the Dark Gods and your treacherous flesh shall fill Likami's bowl!">

A feral scream erupted from the woman, distorting under the weight of pain and frenzy as her form shifted from Nordwiir to skinnúlfur, or as it was known in the common tongue, skinwolf. Larger and patchier than a common werewolf, her flesh was notably mangey; entire putrid chunks missing amidst a torrent of scars that seemed commonplace amongst her people.

"This may be problem," Skad admitted, wrestling the cudgel from the orc's deceased grip and using it to aid herself back to her feet.

 

[Brenna]

The vibrations of footsteps in snow alerted her to the presence of someone walking towards them and the bear turned, putting herself instinctively between Skad at this new warrior. From smell alone she could tell the woman was of the same kind as her friend, but something was... off. She shifted her shoulder so she could see Skad's lips and her furry brows seemed to furrow as she tried to piece together her meaning. Like Brenna? But the Nordenwiir didn't have Svalen. Did they? Was that something Kol had lied about?

All became clear when the woman began to shift into a decaying wolf. Brenna grimaced. Or, as much of a grimace as a bear could give.

"Might?" she growled in her throat. Her svalen had been what Brenna had counted on to give her the edge but now the Nordenwiir had evened it. Up above unbeknownst to the bear, the crowds were cheering as the two animals began to circle one another. Bre still made sure she kept primarily between the wolf and Skad with her teeth bared and a warning growl from her throat.

"What are her Weaknesses?"

 

[Skad]

It was a difficult question for Skad to answer, having found in most of her personal experiences that dying was the core weakness of her foes. That didn't seem the right thing to say. Perhaps that knock to the head was worse than she had thought because Kin-Slayer looked to Brenna and gave what she thought was the correct advice:

"She bad at swimming."

-

Marga had always known that Skad was a vicious unfeeling cunt, it wasn't exactly a great secret held amongst the Nordwiir. Kin-Slayer, once branded as a mark of shame in the wake of sororicide had become a mark of faith. All those who held doubt in Kol's vision through the Dark Gods had met the swift end at that woman's merciless hand. It was only on his word that Marga had ever agreed to join that accursed Hæfurkappi that had left eleven out of the thirteen dead.

And yet here she was; in communion with a fucking Nordenfiir! Worse still, hiding behind the beast when she should have been out there spilling forth such glorious, Haraudur's so-called devoted blade! A worthless fucking traitor!

The skinwolf snarled as she circled the bear, the feral desire within her spirit longing for nothing more than to hear that one-eyed snake cry out for Endirinn. There would be no mercy, only vengeance for her brothers and sisters so callously put to the skinning knife.

Suddenly, she surged forward on her hind legs, arms and claws seeking to grapple with the Nordenfiir in a test of strength, while slavering jaws sought to taste the flesh of the woman's shoulder.

 

[Brenna]

Swimming!? Surely that has to be a mistranslation.

Brenna didn't get time to clarify her point as the feral mongrel flew for her teeth and claws bared. This was not going to be the elegant fight of warriors that reminded her so much of a dance. This would be grim and the only outcome could be death.

The bear surged up to meet the attack so the beast stayed as far away from Skad as possible in their tiny portion of the arena. Her own arms and claws locked with the Nordenwiirs and they stood snapping sharp teeth at one another seeking a spot of weakness. As Marga sunk her teeth into the softer flesh of Brenna's shoulder the bear roared and then snapped at the side of the woman's now exposed neck.

 

[Skad]

The snarling exchange of canines that ripped and tore into beastly flesh drew a rapturous outburst from the crowd, who held the same level of vicious glee reserved for tyrants and sadists.

Marga howled, releasing her own bite as the bear punctured the exposed flesh of her neck. The savage and poorly-trained nature of the Nordwiir was on full display. She was accustomed to turning and bringing forth a feral rampage upon those dwarfed by her skinnúlfur form, not fighting toe-to-toe with a beast of the same magnitude.

Claws still caught in a fierce grapple were unable to be loosened, preventing the raider from attempting to repel the bear by gouging at her face.

So instead, she kicked. With a small jump, both elongated clawed feet left the ground, aiming to kick off the other woman's midsection to create distance and get the Nordenfiir off the side of her neck before mortal damage could be done.

 

[Brenna]

Brenna grunted as the feral mutt jumped and kicked her square in the stomach. Unfortunately, bears were made of stronger stuff and the Nordenfiir, unlike the Nordenwiir, had trained for years in hardening her muscle in both forms. That was not to say that the attack did not sting. It also forced her hind legs backwards in the ice and snow enough that she did release the creature's neck, however she was fast enough to aim those canines for something else; the beasts belly.

Meanwhile her claws dug into the creatures arms like a fisherman's hook boring down to cut through fur, skin and muscle. If the mongrel wanted to free her self Brenna would claim her hunk of flesh.