Fae Courts The Eclipse Hunt

[Paetr]

The sun had risen, but soon it would be engulfed. The landscape was always covered in deep snow which leeched the sound from the air. However, the eerie silence that filled the vale was much deeper than usual.

"Of course these humans are much more fun to hunt than your humans."

The voice intruded on the silence without any respect for its depth.

The moon Lessat had risen first, low on the horizon. Its blue rings were shimmering in the dawn light. The sun was quickly chasing it.

"Some of them turn into bears, its fucking brilliant." The voice carried an infectious kind of childish glee that didn't match the subject matter. "Gennelis come over here and show them your stump. Oh stop being such a fucking baby."

There was movement in the town below. The first human shapes emerging from their calm little wooden houses.

"Do I have to, my lord?"

"Don't be such a fucking baby. At least you didn't get your face bitten off."

There was a line of riders and hounds just beyond the ridge. They waited for the darkness to fall. It would herald the end of the silence. The silence that was already being broken ahead of schedule.

"Incidentally, it turns out that a giant fucking bear can - in fact - bite off a whole face. Who knew? You're chasing what you think is a human and suddenly, rawr, a great bear bites your best scout's face clean off. So…watch out for that."

There were a few minutes left before Lessat engulfed the sun and the sport began. Paetr's home was the island between Sheketh and Eratejva. A battle ground for two hundred years. That length of conflict required the occasional break and today was one of those.

The Lords supporting both Kana′tĭ and Tulok had gathered for the eclipse hunt and even fae from other Courts were welcome. Mostly welcome.

There was a truce in place, but also a truth that everyone knew: run off alone and you risked the other opposing Night Court faction hunting you too. That was, as far as everyone was concerned, in the spirit of the game.

OOC:

The hunting party starts hiding just beyond a ridge, waiting for the eclipse to begin.
You do not have to be night Court to join.
Watch the hunting of norden people unfold or join in the charge when the sun goes behind Lessat

 

[Tulok]

"A white-bright moon lost in dawn.​

Night sky pearl-spangled embers-​

Bright in your eyes-​

Pull 'gainst thy heart-​

Pull 'gainst thy desire."​

"Oh-h-h, that Veithir is something," basso voice purred, "I should love for him to sing his songs at one of our feasts, and then I would mount his skull above my hearth. Thank you, Nahya."

"Milord," the white-haired man said with careful subservience.

Across the way, voices floated into the Bone Prince's ears. Around him, his own Lords chatted about nothing. Tulok thought it would be nice to have music.

"Nahya?"

"Yes, Milord?" Nahya's voice was a pleasant tenor.

"Won't you learn the zither?"

"If Milord wishes it of me."

"Do learn the zither."

"Yes, Milord."

As life in the village stirred, the Prince tiredly huffed, looking again at his brother's Lords. And where was that misbegotten wretch? Surely, he hadn't begun the hunt early! Lost twice in the battles just prior, and now he thinks he must be victorious in the hunt as if it were something to be won.

"Oh, I'm bored," whined Tulok.

 

[Itachi]

Aranhil was stepping in for his father, which was usually demanded of him anyhow. Normally, he would be annoyed to come to such a thing— hunting humans never really caught his eye as much as philandering with the good looking ones was more his speed. His father had actually been quite surprised when Aranhil hadn’t rolled his eyes or made some snide comment about attending; this was the first time in a long time that Aranhil had excitedly latched onto the opportunity.

Not the opportunity to hunt, but rather the opportunity to get away from his murderous fiancé who dreamed of ways to kill or woke up thinking “hm, how can I remind Aranhil Voronwe that I hate his guts today?”

Aranhil sighed, thinking of Siobhan. And they said Night Court men were the bad guys? Obviously they had yet to meet a feisty red-head with a strong grip that could easily choke you out in under a minute if you aren’t careful. Handsome face or not, say one bad joke or call her by the wrong name and you were done for, forever.

Aranhil ran his fingers over his bow, seeking comfort. He was sure, after Paetr’s description of the situation at hand, Siobhan would be reeling in laughter over this. She’d probably hope he had a stump for a arm too or that maybe his face would be peeled off by the jaws of a bear. His dark green hazel eyes surveyed the line people, even boldly leaning his head over to glimpse the place where Tulok and his lords were. Fully devoted to Kana′tĭ, Aranhil felt himself begin to sneer before stopping himself. Actually, let’s not lose a head today. Can’t let Siobhan get her wish. Aranhil thought, rubbing the back of his neck. He morbidly wondered what it felt like to have a head and then… not. Regardless, he really didn’t want to find out.

 

[Paetr]

"Huh, of course he's bored. The attention span of a fucking child," Paetr muttered for his closest advisors only.

They laughed, even though he had been telling them he was bored literal seconds before he had caught Tulok's statement on the wind.

His weapons master hadn't laughed. She never laughed. If she wasn't the only person in his court he was actually frightened of, Paetr might have commented that it was normal for people to laugh at his jokes.

There were two reasons this wouldn't become a full on scrap between the Northern and Southern factions of the Night Court. First was their strict adherence to laws as written and the terms of this arrangement.

Second, and possibly more important, was that there were outsiders in their midst. The Night Court wasn't about to air its dirty laundry in front of the other courts. It was a We might be in a civil war but if you think we won't bite your fucking hand off of you mess with us think again kind of deal. Even for a fae that was as important as terms.

Lessat's rings were being lit up by the sun now. Just a few more minutes and the light would begin to fade.

Then the hunt would begin.

 

[Ophelia]

It was probably not the wisest of decisions, a woman from the Autumn court in this territory. She wasn't known to be a smart girl, but she was curious to a fault. Hunting humans wasn't exactly an approved sport where she came from, but who else was she supposed to experiment on? Surely it would be frowned upon to kill your own people out of curiosity, right? Maybe.

Her face was obscured by the cloak she wore, not that anyone would be looking at her. She was less than dirt to these creatures that called themselves people. At least Casimir would be happy to see her in the outfit he picked out for her. All white to blend in with the snow. She would have to thank him for his designs if he didn't kill her himself for participating in such a dangerous event.

Red eyes peeked out from behind the shadowy hood to look over the others who had gathered nearby as she stood alone with nothing more than a bow on her back. A bow she barely knew how to use and really had no plans for beyond hoping she could hit someone in the legs and finish them off herself with the newfound control over her own powers.

 

[Paetr]

Tulok Aranhil Voronwe Ophelia Eärtári

Calogero was at Paetr's left hand. The old and wizened advisor had been with his family for three generations. Paetr, above all others, had tested his patience the most. Calogero suffered his moods because he truly believed in the House.

Aeron, his weapons master, was on his right hand. She would stay close to Paetr's side for the hunt. She was always behind that damned mask. It was uncomfortable to look at the impassive expression for long. That she was the finest blade in his house made up for he fact that she had steadfastly refused to fuck him.

Lessat swallowed the last of the sun. Its rings were lit from behind, leaving the work in a blue-tinted darkness. Paetr often wondered if this was the colour of drowning.

The first horn sounded. Then another and another until the entire ridge was filled with sound.

The hounds were unleashed first. They were halfway down the ridge before the first warning cry came from the village.

"What a fucking great day."

 

[Tulok]

"Do you think they woke up expecting to die?" Tulok chuckled. It emerged brittle and without humor.

"Surely not," said Nahya. Stoic.

"Surely not, right? I know about these creatures. Superstitious. They probably would have danced naked under the eclipse and then fucked all night after eating a feast."

"You're talkative today."

"Am I?" A puzzled frown drew across his features. Nahya just thinly smiled.

Nahya. His line served the Kings of the Night Court for generations. The man in question had advised the late King, Tulok and Kana′tĭ's father, and now stood as the former's greatest ally and closest confidant. A warrior second only to the Prince of Bones himself, he had earned many unflattering titles among his enemies, but also their respect. Also, he was Tulok's one friend, as the rest had left for Kana′tĭ.

"I would like to claim a head before that brother of mine," he said, gaze cast over the village below.

And urging his steed forward, Tulok was the first rider down the ridge, shortly followed by Nahya.

Paetr Aranhil Voronwe Ophelia Eärtári

 

[Itachi]

All too soon it was time for the hunt to start, needless to say, the tension in the air was palpable enough to cut with a very small, blunt knife. Aranhil watched the hounds charge down into the villages, could hear that whiny little scream of dismay. He glanced over, waiting for the others to go and charge down ahead first, although he readied his bow.

Aranhil may have been many things and unremarkable in many more, but many did say that the outstanding thing about him was the innate skill he possessed with a bow and arrow. His quiver was stocked with arrows that held the magick runes his family was known for. Another reason why Aranhil was at the hunt: free advertisement.

With a sigh to steady himself— if he missed a shot and it got back to his father he was sure Olis Voronwe would strangle him instead of Siobhan— there was that slight thump of his heel against his horse and then they were going down as well. Humans, whether they could change into bears or not, were going to see just how frightening Aranhil’s targeting abilities were.

Ophelia Eärtári Paetr Tulok

 

[Ophelia]

Oh fuck. Oh fuck. Oh fuck. What am I doing here? Ophelia flinched as the horns began to sound, moving up a bit to look over the ridge to watch the hounds as they ran down towards the humans. Poor things...She mused, hearing the first scream. Of course, she would not be going first after the hounds. Why reveal herself to be the most incompetent one there immediately? It would only get her killed...not that it was a particularly bad thing.

Watching as the long haired one and his companion rode down the ridge first, she surveyed the others who had not yet gone. If she wanted to make anything of her time here, she would need to follow one of the others who had shown up. She chose the one closest to her. A younger fae with short brown hair. He looked slightly less threatening than the others who arrived with companions.

Ophelia was not looking for an alliance, only an opportunity to practice. She would stalk the man down the hill until he was preparing to take a shot at a human she couldn't even see before riding up and kicking him in the side to throw him off balance. "First time?" She would ask him as he fired the shot.

Aranhil Voronwe Paetr Tulok

 

[Paetr]

Paetr rode hard but Tulok was ahead. The dogs and cwn were already into the outskirts of the town, but what mattered was which of the important people managed to get into the killing first.

If the lower orders left nothing for the Lords and heir retinues to clean up then there would be consequences.

One of the dogs had bounded over a fleeing human to stop them escaping. The screaming and shouting had spread through the town. The fae would be on them before they could escape or form a shield wall to meet them.

Paetr lifted his spear and pulled his arm back. Tulok was riding out ahead towards one of the pitiful norden. Paetr launched the spear past him, hopefully close enough to surprise him a little.

The spear fell towards the nord, but just clipped their shoulder. Crimson marked the pure white as they full, but it was a kill.

"Shit."

 

[Skarde Yjorenjaskr]

Horns in the distance. It wasn't a good sign. They had received reports of Fae massing in the area and he had been sent to deal with them. He would crouch low and began to sniff the air. Blood. Blood of the Nordens was being spilt. And that, would not be tolerated.

They had trekked over the mountain and below they could see the armies of the Fae pouring into the village. What spectacular cowards. They attacked as they woke. The Gods were with the Norden. The Fae had come to die, they just hadn't realized it yet.

Shieldmaidens, Strekkers, and the mighty Molvanir, warriors all. Each with their own Jorns but united to remove the Fae threat. At the head of the column was their Queensguard commander, Hrothgar Sweynholt. The strekkers would be breaking off to attack the Fae from the rear while the main force attacked from the mountain. Their army was even sporting a handful of Elbion mages that had chosen to stay behind and study.

Hrothgar would signal and the warhorns of the Norden would drift down from the mountain, powerful enough to inspire those that still lived, as well as taunt the Fae to a dirge of their own. The main force would split into three groups as they divided and charged. Skarde followed at the heels of Hrothgar and the powerful Molvanir. The shield maidens would take the left flank, while the largest body of Nordens charged down the right.

The Hounds of the Fae would be the first to charge out to meet the Molvanir, and therefore the first to meet their fate either by tusk or underfoot. Above the charge, the mages were the last to advance, peppering the Fae with magical attacks to keep them on the defensive.

Kol Gunnar Helson