Quest Southward [A Tundra Tale]

[Hugi]

All of it was unnerving, but Valthar pushed inside, and orders were orders. "Let's get it over with then." Hugi spoke to the air before keeping behind Valthar, turning sideways in the door before sliding into the room behind him. He could indeed fit, and it had only taken a bit of time in the southlands to figure that out.

One axe was held forward, one backward as he scooted in, along with the crouching and light disgruntled snorts as he moved. "You would think they make everything big for us...but noooo. Must conserve stone, the structure would be to weak. Bah."

 

[Gylfi Runarsson]

What a rare thing, for Gylfi to be mindful of another person. He’d been scolded no small number of times, but the smaller woman’s ire had a lasting effect on the so-called Grumpy Bear. That, and he clung to her gift of mead like a baby would a teat.

As the rest of the party split to follow orders, Gylfi still sipped at the leather skin of mead as he looked up the stairs. He turned where he stood and his eyes scanned over the walls, then fell to the ground. Gylfi lowered the skin from his mouth and went to Brenna. With a large finger, he prodded her shoulder and when she acknowledged him, guided her to the snow.

He crouched and pointed. Snow had begun to cover them, but for all the times his father took him on trips, he would never miss a set of tracks, especially those made by a large group.

Gylfi looked up at Brenna.

“Old... The Queen says Ranger,” his finger drew small circles at the tracks, “not Rangers.”

He raised a brow at his ward, “should we follow them?”

 

[Brenna]

The inside of the outpost was even worse than outside. Her eyes roved the surroundings and though she couldn't hear the silence her brother said she felt it. It wasn't like the feeling there was in the wastelands and hunting grounds of Faarin where there was no other soul around for miles. Brenna's hand hadn't left the hilt of her sword and when her brother moved off to explore where one of the doors led she debated following him. Despite knowing the stories of his adventures down South it was hard for her to truly see her brother as a fighter.

It was her Grumpy Bear who distracted her. The jab to the arm caused her to turn sharply, rubbing the spot he had hit with a slight frown. Half of her had expected some sort of lecture on 'staying close' but instead he motioned her over to the footprints in the snow. Curiosity piqued she crouched down opposite him and studied the footprints too, then she dipped her fingers deep into the print and brought some of the snow and a smudge of the dirt beneath to her nose to smell. Just faintly, but the smell of blood was there. Now he had pointed the tracks out her keen eyes picked out the trail.

"Blood," Brenna paused, cleared her throat, made her voice even quieter in a self conscious manner. "Not," she motioned to the prints, signed the word for theirs. Standing she drew her own sword then nodded once. "Follow."

 

[Arnor Skuldsson]

Arnor crouched next to Maude, watching her for a moment, before he turned the sword to the ground, and left it in the snow. He crouched, thinking and listening for a while. Smelling all the same, but moreso listening. If this was an ambush, a set up for one at least- then they were lying in wait inside, or stalking them.

Or they had cut tail and run quite some time ago.

He found himself quiet and alone with Maude, and he was free to utter his thoughts, his musings about the two of them-

"I don't trust that fucking Dreadlord."

 

[Gylfi Runarsson]

The Grumpy Bear responded with a nod of his own and stood after his ward. He cast an expectant gaze down at Brenna, having expected her to take the lead. The gaze lingered for a moment, and then he blinked, realizing that she hadn't intended on actually taking the lead.

Gylfi began to follow the trail, which led under the old wooden stairs at the center of the outpost. There, where the snow hadn't completely covered the path, the footprints became more evident, and even the untrained eye could spot them, granted they looked down at the dirt. The tracks led to a door under the wooden walkway. Gylfi placed his hand against the door, his other on the hilt of his dagger that hung from his belt, and quickly glanced back at Brenna before pushing the door open.

If there was anything dangerous, his nose didn't pick it up. Still, his dagger would fare better indoors than the oversized sword on his back.

 

[Magrin Kor]

The Courtyard was empty except for the sound of the Herrevan which filtered down from where it had perched atop the weather vane. Its riddled speech touched the Nord who thought it strangely befitting that he was there when the creature spoke of a Wolf in the Bear Den. Undaunted he continued to cross the courtyard though with the assumption that Solveig was still in tow.

Glancing around him Magrin would note how the others had split off. Valthar and Hugi moved towards the entrance to a Store Room. Brenna and Gylfi towards another doorway beneath one of the wooden walkways. The Nord had set his sights on something else..."Come on."...he'd have said to Solveig.

Transitioning from a careful stride to a quickened pace he'd have moved towards the main Keep at the center of the Outpost. Unlike Gylfi and Brenna he'd have taken the stairs up instead of dipping below. As he took his first stride upon the stairs he'd have heard them start to creak and he'd grown inwardly before pausing and looking back towards Solveig with some mild embarrassment.

Ascending further Magrin would have moved up onto the walkways towards a set of large wooden doors that served as the entrance to what he thought must have been the Main Hall. Even if no one was alive here there may have been some sign, some indication of what had happened within. Magrin's shoulder pressed to the stone to one side of the doorway, he'd motion for Solveig to take a position on the other side.

Ensuring both he and Solveig Odasson were looking at one another he'd lift his left hand and indicate a three count, the expectation being that they'd swing around and bust open the door in unison. Wrapping the fingers of his right hand tightly around the haft of his axe he prepared, listening for what might be some sound, some indication of anything on the other side but there was nothing.

One...two...three....GO!

 

[Solveig Odasson]

It might be odd to some, but unlike the popular image of a blackmsith, Solveig was quiet agile. Erik had always teased him in his younger years. But the trait lended itself well to the steps. The look from Magrin Kor was met with a bemused grin. He himself mounted the boards almost silently,

The herrevan had made him uneasy. Never truly cared much for such beasts. Something in their intellect was unnatural. Speech they had, after a fashion, but their eyes were dead and lifeless, and there was an air of unease about them. Although most often they were seen as portents, according to his mother. So perhaps he kept his eyes peeled a little wider, weapons hefted a bit higher, as they went.

Main hall was a wise choice though. There was likely some sort of remains or indication of struggle or prior incident. Or even if it was a fight from danger, maybe clues to that. As Magrin lifted his hand to count down, he nodded understanding and hefted he blade and axe, taking up a similar position and turning as he did to break through the door.

 

[Maude]

Luck Rolls:
Maude - 5, Valthar - 3, Brenna - 3, Solveig - 4, Magrin - 4, Gylfi - 4, Mikaela - 3, Arnor - 6, Hugi - 5, Talus - 6

The Queen side-eyed her companion, expression flat, "He is the least of anyone's worries. Come, we'll check the Commander's Chamber."

It had been decades, perhaps even longer, since Frostpeak Hold had seen a Commander at its helm. What had once purposed as the Commander's living quarters was now used for the Rangers passing through and administrative purposes. Maude slowly moved to mount the stairs to the far right of the first courtyard, footfalls as heavy as her eyelids felt. The Commander's chamber door at the top opened with a groan of frozen iron hinges. Inside it was quiet, filled with the scent of stale musk. She moved through to the nearby window where a desk sat cluttered by many things, including a ledger.

Taking a seat with no great amount of grace, Maude opened the ledger and carefully paged through. It was the same as any outpost: Rangers recorded their names and the dates and times of their arrivals and departures, as well as the names of any who traveled with them. When stores were replenished, those notations were made off to the side.

"Here," she said to Arnor Skuldsson, opening it to the last marked page and drawing a gloved finger down the list, "there were two Rangers..." green eyes blinked in recognition of the names, Rangers she had trained alongside at the capital, "Estrid and Rannolf. They signed in over a week ago and haven't signed out."

Seemed the two had come from the south. Maude noted refreshed reserves of meat, spices, and wheat in the store room (Hugi Valthar ). Further down the ledger a secondary notation of guests. She frowned, "Five guests. Four Nordenfiir of Indeholm and ... an elf." Her brows furrowed deeply. Indeholm, like Withereach, was one of many cities of Nordengaard that enjoyed great distance from the capital and a great deal more free reign. Aside from its mounts, Indeholm was particularly notorious for its non-inclusive nature to those not of Norden blood. For the group to be traveling with an elf seemed quite odd.

An elf that Magrin Kor and Solveig Odasson would find within the main hall. Pale of skin, tall of ear, white of hair - an elf hailing from a kingdom hidden within the mountains that had spent many centuries making and breaking war with Nordengaard. His robes were stiff with frozen blood, it was clear he'd been dead for many days.

Through the doorway Gylfi Runarsson and Brenna stepped, the wafting smell of blood hit them squarely in the face. They'd found the entrance to upper level of the cellblock that carved back into the face of the mountain. As their footsteps echoed down the dark hall of stone, they might hear the clinking of chains.

"...hello?" a weak voice called, "...hello?!"

Outside in the courtyard, Talus and Mikaela Ryurik would discover remnants of a struggle. The scent of blood was very faint indeed, but eventually they'd stumble upon a body facedown within a large pool of dark, frozen blood. A male Norden warrior, black of hair with a dagger in his throat. Talus' boot would hit something metal and it would ring through the silent expanse of the yard. Upon further inspection he'd find a ring of keys clutched within the man's frozen grasp.

 

[Brenna]

Brenna sneezed as soon as they stepped through the doorway and she gave Gylfi an apologetic smile when he turned to look at her. Despite the blood in the footprints the smell had been unexpected. It must have been a while since whatever had happened here because everything had that slight rotting odour of human sweat and piss too. As they made their way down the dark corridor the smell got worse. Every now and then Bre checked their backs in case something slipped by the others. It wasn't long before she sensed a change come over Grumpy Bear - he seemed to straighten a bit and tilt his head as if listening, then they were moving with more purpose. Occasionally Bre had to do a light skipping step to keep up with his great stride but they soon came upon a woman bound in chains in a cell.

Unease settled in her stomach. The woman smelt like a Norden and she wore the clothes befitting a Ranger but why would one of them be locked in a cell down here? She looked to be in a sorry state and the smell of blood clung to her though Bre could see no obvious wounds. Brenna glanced to Gylfi and pressed her lips into a thin line. It seemed he was more than a competent hunter so she chanced him knowing a bit of the Signs used by those of that profession.

This does not feel right...

 

[Magrin Kor]

They'd swung around to bust open the doorway into the Main Hall together. The Nord had raised his axe over his right shoulder, left hand gripping the haft below the right while his left side shift forward when he'd come around and he sent a heavy boot into the door alongside Solveig Odasson. A snarl escaped Magrin's lips as he expected battle to be joined but what awaited them on the other side was something else entirely.

Almost immediately Magrin's eyes set on the Elf, laid out on the floor between two long tables he looked like he was just taking a rest, his robes covered in blood and stiff from the cold but he was dead. Just by the look of it Magrin thought there must have been great violence that too place here.

"Check the body."...he'd have told Solveig as he lowered his axe, maintaining a hold of it with his right hand while releasing it with the left. There were other peculiarities in the Main Hall too. Blood stains on the floor, difficult to tell how old but evident as he stalked through the room looking for anything out of place.

He approached the hearth and took a knee, reaching out with his left hand to feel for any signs of heat. This place had been cold for days, at least as long as the Elf had been dead but maybe longer. The remnants of wood and coals in the heart radiated nothing, nothing but cold like everything else here.

Looking back over his shoulder he'd have set his eyes onto Solveig and said..."Anything?"...the Elf might have something on his person that would help them explain what went on here or maybe something else that had been left behind after his death.

 

[Solveig Odasson]

He was far from an Elven scholar. And had a deep mistrust of them in general, if he were honest. With a careful eye around the rest of the room, Solveig sat the axe down, keeping the long knife hefted in his other hand as he use his primary hand to pat the corpse down. A scan around the body, to try and see if he could discern if the death had happened here, and if so how.... And if not... How did the body get here?

Magrin was checking coals, and Solveig could notice they were cold by his reaction. Just as the corpse was stiff, the blood dried and flaking where it clung to both skin & robe. Something about the corpse made him uneasy, and an almost animalistic growl came from the back of his throat as he searched.

Magrin Kor

 

[Magrin Kor]

At first glance Magrin would assume that the Elf had died here though his wounds may have occurred somewhere else. Looking back at Solveig when he asked if the Smith had found anything the Nord would find that the answer was in the negative according to his companions features however there might yet but hope. Something may lay, waiting to be found in the vicinity.

Rising to his feet after checking the coals and discovering that the hearth was long cold Magrin would turn and begin moving around the Main Hall, his footsteps came one over the other so that they remained quiet. It wouldn't take long for Magrin to discover more.

Craning his head towards Solveig Odasson Magrin would have indicated with his left hand, the right still clutching his axe that he saw something on the floor. It was just dried streaks of blood but it seemed to indicate that one or maybe more people had been moving around the Hall. No telling who the blood belonged to, maybe it was the Elf but what was for sure is that a struggle of some kind took place.

Further inspection would reveal hat some of the chairs around the tables in the Hall had been overturned as was at least one long bench and there was a table that seemed out of place as well, like someone had pushed against it or been shoved onto it. If he hadn't known better Magrin may have thought this all had the makings of a brawl but obviously it was more serious than that.

Walking towards a set of shuttered windows that had been closed Magrin would undo the latch sealing them and press the shutters wide to let in some light before looking back owards Solveig..."I think I liked you better when you were talking."...the grim Nord wasn't even joking, all this quiet was unsettling even to him.

 

[Mikaela Ryurik]

“I’m not entirely certain to be honest, I would take a guess and say those sent on missions to other cities and spots in the country. Perhaps they have things of value with them.., I’m but a scout, freshly gained svalen.. still learning all these adult things, you know.” she laughed, genuinely meaning what she said and felt. With Talus it was easy to admit that she wasn’t a seasoned warrior of the North. Probably because he was an outsider.

Concentrating back on the task at hand she sniffed: the refreshing scent of snow and bitter cold had a faint bloody hue to it. She turned, frowning lightly and started to pace around the yard. Most had gone to various buildings, everyone looking for rangers that might still be here, dead or alive. The former was most likely considering the smell and the silence.

Once her eyes fell on the heap of snow, and the lack of it here and there in its surroundings, she followed the place. The gate, she had left open, if this was a trap it was already too late anyway, so they all focussed on the here and now. What the moment presented them was a dead body. Frozen in a pool of high likely his own blood. There was a dagger sticking out of his neck. With some hesitation she pulled it out of the frozen flesh. It cost her a bit of struggling. The gloves weren’t too handy when the dagger’s handle was coated in ice. Finally, she took it out.

An acid storm coiled in her stomach. This one looked like ones made around here. Not a foreign weapon. A basic one, but one she easily recognized. Had this been a struggle among her own people?

And if so, then why?

“You got something over there?”

* * *
Talus​

 

[Gylfi Runarsson]

Gylfi’s nose scrunched the moment they entered. The putrid scent assailed his nostrils; it was a vile combination of stale blood and piss and shit, and fresh bodily stench. Fresh. It was a discernible thing, stale and fresh piss, not that Gylfi had ever wanted to differentiate the two.

When they reached the source of what he could only assume was the new and old piss and shit (couldn’t be the blood, he didn’t spot any visible wounds and her posture was relatively normal), Gylfi intensely stared at the chained silhouette. Yellow, beastly eyes had already adjusted somewhat to the dark. He could make out the shape of the woman’s clothes, the obscure lines of her body and vague details of her features.

“Who’s there?” the woman called out, but Gylfi remained silent. He just stared. His posture, the way the dim light barely reflected off of intense golden eyes, clearly instilled some panic into the Ranger. “Hello? Who.. who are you?!”

His focus broke only when the small woman at his side tugged at his cape to get his attention. She signed to him. He clearly understood a few of the individual signs, but it was obvious what she was trying to communicate to him, given the situation.

Feel. Not. Right.

That alone was adequate. The tall young man nodded in agreement.

“Gylfi,” he said to the Ranger, his hand on his chest, then pointed at Brenna. “Brenna... Your name.”

For several seconds, there was no response.

“Estrid.”

Gylfi cast a questionable gaze down at his ward, then turned his attention back to Estrid.

“What happened here?”

 

[Baise]

"It must get tiring ducking through doorways," Valthar reflected. "There is food in here."

A trip south might have made the bite of the cold almost unbearable but it hadn't dulled his sense of smell. Nothing smelt off either, so there had to be fairly recently supplies.

He quickly found it in the next room. The storerooms were clean and dry. They were well kept for an abandoned post.

"Sounds like trouble," he said to Hugi, looking towards the door. It was no single sound, but a series of voices raised above the sound of the wind.

 

[Hugi]

Hugi decided to actually pull the helm off for the task of entering these small rooms. It gave Valthar all the view of the troublesome grin Hugi gave in return to the first comment. "Easier than ripping door frames apart. At least on the pocket." The large man chuckled.

The southlands considered it a faux pas to simply break one's way through the entry way. Especially when load bearing beams were set next to it. Tended to make them a bit nervous. He waited in the first part of the room, sifting through a few stacks of sacks of rather fresh stores when Valthar mentioned the sound of trouble.

"Perhaps trouble, perhaps explanations." He wondered aloud, sounding more interested this time. "Let's go see."

 

[Talus]

" Maybe." Talus said quietly in return, glancing down at the frozen corpse for a few moments.

He had never particularly liked grave-robbing, though he was no stranger to it. Leaning down he grasped the dead-man's fingers, prying them slowly until he heard a loud snap. The keys fell into his hands.

It is as clear to him that there had been a battle here, but what sort he couldn't tell. These lands were foreign to him, and so were the people and their way. For all he knew this was all some sort of elaborate ritual meant to sanctify the grounds.

He doubted it, but that didn't make it impossible.

Slowly the young Dreadlord reached up and ran a hand through his hair, letting out a long drawn out sigh. Why the fuck had Fen sent him here? What was the purpose of all this? Was he supposed to be learning? It felt like he was falling short. His free hand fell to the hilt of the sword he'd been given back in the Nord city.

It was heavier than his own, but it was starting to feel like he'd have to use it soon.

"Keys." He said quietly to Mika, offering them up for her to see. "Not sure what to."

 

[Maude]

Estrid shifted where she sat against the wall, trying to get a better look at the pair through the dark, "I'm a Ranger - I was training a new Ranger named Rannolf. We came through on our way from Kiringsaal to replenish the supplies. Three days after we arrived a group from Indeholm showed up..."

Her words drifted, jaw trembled, head sank against her chest as she remembered their ordeal, "Four from Indeholm with a captive elf. Said they caught him performing dark magic ..." she shook her head, "but they didn't have him restrained."

~~~

HAW HAW

Outside the air grew still and a deeper, bitter cold began to settle in over the outpost. An eerie aura crept in.

HAWWWW-ARD FLIES THE GHOST IN THE WINTER SKY

The herrevan took flight from its perch on the weathervane, spooked into a frenzied fit.

~~~

"We were eating in the mess hall and I left to get some sleep. Rannolf was with them. One of them followed me - Rannolf tried to stop him, I think. I heard him yell, they started fighting."

Estrid shivered as she felt the unease descend upon the grounds before looking up again, "The elf ... is he dead?"

~~~

Maude looked up from the book, sensing the change in the air and slowly rose from her seat, "Something's not right." The door to the room slammed shut. Maude looked to Arnor Skuldsson and watched as he moved to try and open it but it wouldn't budge.

~~~

A deafening rumble rolled in from the skies, not quite thunder but something else entirely. Darkness fell in a strange absoluteness and from within it there came the sound of rasp breathing. The ground trembled. A dull roar echoed out as a massive hand sailed through the air, out of the shadow, to slash at Talus and Mikaela Ryurik. A beastly groan followed as something ghastly stepped into view.

~~~

In the mess hall, where Magrin Kor and Solveig Odasson turned their attention away, the dead elf's hands twitched. Cold blue eyes opened and an explosion of dark magic thrust the two men across the hall, crashing through tables.

~~~

In the store room a rattling snarl echoed up through the hanging carcasses of elk. The shape of antlers shifted upright, something grabbed Valthar and pulled him back with unusual strength. The door behind Hugi slammed shut.

~~~

"He's not dead," Estrid shook her head and sank further back into her cell, "he's not dead."

In the cellblock clicking echoed down the stone hall, iron doors groaned in the dark. A hiss, a scrape, the shadows of antlers curled to the ceiling as, quite suddenly, a large creature thrust itself at Gylfi Runarsson and Brenna

 

[Brenna]

Brenna returned Gylfi's look with one of doubt, her brows furrowed into an expressive frown. She felt cold and it had nothing to do with the temperature down here in the cells but she rubbed her arms anyway as if they might bring back some resemblance of warmth. As the woman began to speak Bre shook her head slightly and then moved to crouch beside the bars - the girl had pressed her face down against her chest and she was having a hard time reading her lips by standing.

The story made sense relatively from what they had been able to pick up in the courtyard and the marks of fighting and blood which had led them here. Had she locked herself in here then to protect herself from the elf she spoke of? Her eyes ran up the iron and her fingers followed them to the lock, tested it. Definitely locked and not just shut. Yet there was no key in the cell either from what her eyes could pick out in the dim light. She turned at the hip to Gylfi and gave him another look.

Bre had been about to sign something about looking for a key or asking Gylfi to query the girl if she had the key when the ground trembled. She steadied herself by putting her hand against the bars. Another glance to Gylfi. This time when she breathed out it actually misted in front of her.

The shadows condensed, or perhaps the beast stepped from it, suddenly before them in the space between two beats of a nervous heart. It was instinct to grab the knife in her boot in the same fluid movement she stood up, bringing it back over her shoulder then threw it. The blade whistled through the air then buried itself to the hilt in the creatures eye. Its howl of pain and rage brought them a second from its immediate attack as it reeled backwards. Its warped hands clawed at the hilt but the blood that oozed from the wound made it impossible to get a firm enough purchase to remove it. After a moment it let its hands fall and refocused on the two before it. With a snarl it lowered its head and charged again.

 

[Baise]

In the mess hall, where @Magrin Kor and @Solveig Odasson turned their attention away, the dead elf's hands twitched. Cold blue eyes opened and an explosion of dark magic thrust the two men across the hall, crashing through tables.

"Hugi..." warned Valthar softly.

The head of Vilissë, the awakened axe that Míriel Fëanorna had forged, started to glow.

"...undead."

In the store room a rattling snarl echoed up through the hanging carcasses of elk. The shape of antlers shifted upright, something grabbed @Valthar and pulled him back with unusual strength. The door behind @Hugi slammed shut.

Fingers like iron bands wrapped around his upper arms. He was afforded a fine view of the ceiling beams before his back crashed into the suppliers, knocking the air from his lungs.

Valthar had faced far too many threats on his journey home to be undone now. As the thing tried to drag him away his left hand snatched a knife form his belt. It stuck home in the beast's forearm and Valthar was released, the dark shape springing away.

Valthar was on his feet quickly, ignoring the pain from his arms. Where it had touched him his flesh burned. He snarled and growled his own warning, taking his axe in two hands and holding it at the ready.

 

[Magrin Kor]

An unseen force took the Nord, lifted him off his feet and threw him before he had a chance to respond and barely registering the attack until it was to late. Flying across the Hall Magrin would have opened his mouth as though preparing to shout a curse before he came down onto one of the long tables, crashing through it. Underneath his weight wood splintered, breaking beneath the force of impact as Magrin hit the floor amidst a pile of debris.

There was a stillness after that, the Nord had no idea what had happened to Solveig. Everything had been so fast and unexpected. Magrin cursed himself though, they should have taken the axe to the body of the Elf as soon as they entered to hall.

Picking himself up out of the debris, pressing a loose piece of wood that had broken away from the table from himself Magrin would rise back up to his feet, right hand already tightening around the haft of his axe as it came free of his belt. A feral gleam filled his eyes, he growled and then rushed back across the room and leapt at the Elf.

Magrin’s teeth had become incisors, a steady rage building inside of him yet still contained by sheer force of will and his vision was red…”Fucking Elf, should have taken your head off!”…his tone was guttural as he went for the Elf which had sat up by now. It may have been a mistake because the Elf turned his cold dead eyes towards the Nord and without a word another unseen force grasped Magrin and sent him flying again.

He landed with a heavy thud in the hearth, groaning as he started to right himself again while calling out to the Smith…”Solveig, put an axe in this things head.”…pushing up to his feet in the process on legs which wobbled momentarily as his senses started returning to him.

Solveig Odasson

 

[Hugi]

Hugi turned at the call from Valthar, even if the noise from the other room demanded his attention. The glowing head of an ax kept him from leaving however. The last word from Valthar gave Hugi chills. He despised the undead. Unnatural it was for things to live beyond death.

And for a brief second he wondered if that lad from the eternity, or whatever they called themselves, was involved. His eyes snapped up as he watched Valthar be yanked upwards. A breath was all the more time he had to react, helmet sliding back on as the door behind him slammed shut.

A deep rumbling growl came from the large man, ax's sliding from the rings as he prepared. Unsure of what had closed the door, he paid little mind to it as he tried to spot what had grabbed Valthar before it could come for him.

Sadly, it had sprung away before he could catch sight of it. A set of fingers wrapping around the helmet he had just slid on. His startled snarl of surprise gave way to a yelp of pain as it slid free from his head. The pair of ax's came up instinctively, the bottom of the blade heads hooking into the thing above him.

Sadly, when he pulled, it felt like he was trying to pull on a lodged boulder. Resolving to at least hold whatever he had caught, Valthar would see Hugi, half his helmet off in the clutches of that thing while his weapons had snagged the blasted thing above him. His arms were straining to keep hold of it, and the smell of it's hand in his face was making him gag.

 

[Gylfi Runarsson]

Indeholm? Gylfi unconsciously grasped the bars between himself and Estrid and leaned in as she spoke. She said little but gave him lots to think about. Elf? Dark magic? What was most concerning was the Indeholm folk's involvement with the Elf.

Before Gylfi could pose another question, the ground shook, and despite the cellblock's sturdy construction, it felt as if the ceiling would collapse in on them. The rumbling stopped as quickly as it started, and with it, so did Gylfi's worries about the cellblock.

Brenna was quicker to react than Gylfi. By the time he turned to face the creature, it was reeling backward, knife in its eye. As it recovered and charged at the pair, Gylfi nudged Brenna behind him with an arm before meeting the thing head-on.

He caught its dark antlers, the palms of his hands tingling, almost lightly burning, as his grasp tightened. It pushed him back against the bars. The young man strained against the creature before, with a loud grunt, slamming it against one wall, then another. Its long, slender fingers seized Gylfi's wrist. With more strength than a creature of its build should possess, it attempted to pull his hands off of its antlers, but the boy stubbornly held on.

With another loud grunt, Gylfi did a swift one-eighty and swung the creature into the bars between them and Estrid. He looked at Brenna, then nodded to the creature.

"Kill it!"

 

[Brenna]

There was a small window of a moment for pride to swell inside her heart that she had made her mark and that her dagger had caused the beast pain. Even as it charged it had to tilt its head in a different manner in order to get its positioning right. The familiar warmth of exhilaration was spreading through her veins as it began its lumbering charge, her left foot sliding backwards to ready her stance and her sword coming up-

Only for her guard to push her behind him. A huff escaped her. She knew it was his job and she had no wish to get him into trouble but in the smaller space they had, it seemed more obvious to utilise her. As it was she had to step back another two paces, causing a bucket of something to over turn, as the two large figures crashed against the bars. The Ranger was pushing herself further back against the walls and muttering something but with Gylfi and the beast in the way she couldn't quite... make it out...

Bre's attention was drawn back to the fight as Gylfi managed to pivot the two so that they swapped places and her Grumpy Bear seemed to gain the upper hand. The beast was as tall if not taller than her guard who was at least a good foot taller than her and given their position the best option would be to go for the creatures neck. She was already backing up right to the end of the corridor, her eyes flicking around the small space she had to work with.

In truth she didn't actually catch his words to kill it and acted more on instinct.

She crouched low then exploded forward in a burst of speed, as much as the short bit of corridor allowed her at least. She jumped once, landed with her right foot on the bucket she had overturned a moment ago and pushed off even further to give herself the height needed. The creature had seen her though out the corner of its eye and had guessed what she intended to do. As she soared up it attempted to lash out and managed to graze her down the shin with a single claw before its attention was forced once more back onto Gylfi. Bre barely noticed it in the moment, she was more focused on her blade as she brought it up and over her head then down.

The blade went through his neck only due to the fact her entire weight was behind it at this point and was helped in its separation from its body by Gylfi's strong grasp upon its horns. Slowly the body slid down the bars of the cell whilst Gylfi was left with the head in his hands. Bre landed jerkily, slidding a bit in the mix of whatever the contents of the bucket had been and the creatures blood and ended up unceremoniously on her backside with a groan.

 

[Solveig Odasson]

There was little sound. Just an unseen force. A concussive blast and the blacksmith was hurtling through the air, cartwheeling. With an abrupt slap of his back against a pillar, he slid down to sit on the floor. World around him seemed distant and tunneled as his head cracked against the weathered granite. Echoing rang in his ears, slight blood trickling from the right. But it was only for a moment that the youth sat stunned.

As if lit by the fire of the forge itself, his eyes snapped open with a rage blazing in them. The axe he had was across the room, skittering from his grip as impact made muscles go slack. Rolling his shoulders, the smith yanked his forge-hammer from his belt. The lead vial from earlier came next, and he dipped a finger in it, smearing the precious dragon's blood across the sigil he had found in the old book from Erik. Immediately the air around him filled with a hazy heat, the head of the hammer smoldering with a ruddy glow.

Hand slipping through the loop as he pocketed the vial, his lithe and lightly armored form stalking forward. Slowly, his lips tweaked in a smirk, the hammer spinning easily in his hands whilst the younger of the pair began laughing. Steps away, and behind the elf, he felt it. The wreak of decay and dark magic. A cold that was more than snow or ice. A cold that sapped at his spirit. In response, the hammer he hefted for a blow glowed brighter, and he swung home, impacting the creature in the shoulder with a sickening thud of impact on rotted meat.

Unfortunately, it only halted the unnaturally moving Elf, who cocked his head to fix Solveig with a curious glance, turning his attention from Magrin Kor for the moment. There was a knowing look in the glowing eyes of the creature, but Solveig stood fast, bringing the hammer round and spinning up, cracking it in the jaw with a blow that might have broken the neck of any other foe. And it might have done so here too, but it made no matter. The Elf jerked his head back even with a rotted leer and lashed out as before, and Solveig went flying again, into the same pillar, landing this time in a sliding crouch.

He had to buy Magrin time to gain his footing. Neither were a match for whatever this was on their own.