Private Tales The Legend's Heir

A private roleplay only for those invited by the first writer

Serafina

The Heir of Marcell
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Sera watched as Einar's jaw clenched and unclenched. Everyone in the camp seemed to be holding their breath unsure whether or not the Northerner was going to argue further. But, after what felt like the longest minute to ever pass, he nodded his head in agreement and turned away to stalk back through the camp and into his tent. A nervous chatter broke out amongst the other bandits as they broke off into smaller groups. Sera stepped up beside Sol and gently put a hand on his shoulder.

"What are you going to offer him?" she asked quietly, gently tugging him over to one of the smaller fires to sit and eat the food that had been prepared in their absence.
 
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Solgrin

Bandit Chief
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Solgrin glanced at his old friend for a moment, watching as the other man stalked away. He seemed to stay still for a moment, as though not even realizing that Serafina was tugging on his arm. After a second he fell into step with her.

"Freedom." He said softly.

It was a gift that not many people had, not really. Even those who were not slaves were beholden to something. A job. A home. Coin. Sometimes even family. It was rare that one experienced true freedom, rarer still that it could be offered.

"Whatever bargain was in place." He began with a frown. "I do not think it is going well."

The Bandit Chief looked down at Serafina. "So we'll help them break it."
 
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Serafina

The Heir of Marcell
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Sera crouched and threw some more wood onto the fire to warm the soup back up whilst Solgrin revealed a little of his plan. If he was right then the whole affair would be much less bloody than they had first anticipated and whilst Sera might have appreciated that she wasn't sure if some of the others would. Einar just wanted something to take out his anger on and she feared one wrong word from a locals mouth would unleash the tempest he was barely containing. And then there were the others too.

Some of these bandits had chosen to follow for the thrill of death. She wondered how they would take to Solgrin's more peaceful route now.

"I hope you're right," she sighed and once the soup was hot again she ladled some into two bowls, passing one to Solgrin along with a chunk of bread.
 
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Solgrin

Bandit Chief
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"This isn't going to be easy." Solgrin said quietly, looking over at Serafina.

There was no doubt in his mind.

"Einar is just the first one." He reminded her softly. "Eventually, I'll repay them all."

Or die along the way of trying. "They're all going to be like this. Most of them anyway."

For a few seconds he stayed quiet, looking at the bowl that Serafina handed him, holding the loaf of bread between calloused fingers.

"You need to understand that." He said. "If you're going to stay."

There was still time for her to go.
 
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Serafina

The Heir of Marcell
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"None of this has been easy for me."

Sera caught and held his gaze as she cradled the bowl of soup in her hands. Holding it made her realise how cold she had been even when walking; was summer ever going to arrive? It was a glancing thought though, one that just brushed against her mind and landed because of how absurdly different to the others taking up most of her mind it was. Was he asking her to leave? That was the question she kept coming back to as she turned his words of warning over in her mind.

"If you want me to go, you only have to ask."
 
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Solgrin

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"I don't." The words came suddenly, strongly.

Solgrin did not want her to go. Did not want to see her leave, but neither did he want to see her destroyed. Killed. Something worse.

This world was not a kind one, in large part because of people like him. There was no doubt in his mind that Serafina could, would survive in it, but everything within this little band of bandits teetered on a constant edge.

Even the best of them were on a constant hinge. Even Einar. "I want you to do whats best for you."

He told her softly.

"I'm not trying to push you away." Solgrin explained. "Just tell you the truth."
 
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Serafina

The Heir of Marcell
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Sera held his gaze a moment after he had finished speaking and then glanced down at her bowl of food.

"I don't have anywhere else to go," the irony screamed at her. Laughed at her even. She knew that one day she would have to come to that path and find her own way but it wasn't yet. It certainly wasn't today. She bit into her bottom lip and then sighed and set the food down between her feet so she could hug her knees. "And I want to help Einar. He's one of the few who have been... kind," she glanced up at the Chief and then looked away quickly. She didn't need to say he had been one of the few who had been gentle with her after the events in the Castle in the mountains. When she had considered death over living this life anymore.

"And I want to be there for you in the end."
 
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Solgrin

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Solgrin nodded his head. "Okay."

There was little else for him to say on the matter. The decision simply wasn't his to make. He had taken so much from so many that there would never be an opportunity for him to pay it all back, that was a simple fact of his life.

So how could he possibly tell Serafina to go against her own choice? To leave? It would be more of the same, not a change.

"Then I'm glad you're staying." He said, a soft smile touching his lips.

He knew that the days, weeks, possibly even months to come would be filled with Chaos. Whatever they were standing up against, whatever the others needed to go through...it would not be pretty. Einar was only the first. Then came Maria, Jax, the others...

It would be long days yet before he could rest.
 
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Serafina

The Heir of Marcell
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Sera offered a smile in return and then picked up her bowl and ate the rest in silence.

The sun seemed to take a long time to set and the tension only grew as people waited and readied themselves. The camp was to stay up in case they needed it but if Solgrin's plan went as they hoped they would be sleeping in warm feather beds tonight. Even so they took the wargs with them; it was best to have at least teeth to help them if they needed it. Dusk had settled over the town like a soft blanket as the group approached. Sera gently patted Nippers neck every now and then to keep him calm as they walked through the gates of the town.

"It looks deserted, though I guess we shouldn't be surprised a town this close to necromancers hate the dark."
 
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Solgrin

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"Curfew, likely." The bandits moved with a surprising ease to their steps, well versed in this sort of thing.

They had taken more than a few towns in their time. Serafin's village had hardly been the first, something she'd surely understood by now. With quick motions he pointed towards Maria and then two of the others. No hesitation to either of them as they quickly moved and cut to the east and then west.

A dozen men went with either of them. "Einar, stay close."

The Northmen looked towards his chief, scowled silently, but simply nodded.

Solgrin frowned for a moment, then quickly nudged the great Warg he sat upon forward. He lead them quickly towards the central square, dismounting directly before the mayors house.

"Keep an eye on Einar." He whispered quietly to Serafina as he dismounted, lips thin as he tied his great beast to the fence.
 
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Serafina

The Heir of Marcell
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Sera tugged Nipper to a stop once Solgrin dismounted and listened to his instructions with a passive face. Her eyes flickered only briefly to the northman when she was told to watch him. What on Arethil could she do if he decided to run off and berserker his way through the temple? He was double her size and she didn't think Nipper would be all much good either at keeping up with his larger scarred mount. The only thing she had was her magic and that was...

"I will," she nodded and tightened her fingers on the reins. "Be careful," her face softened from determination to one of concern. "If you need us, shout."
 
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Solgrin

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"Shouldn't." He said simply, a shrug rolling over his shoulders. "After all, i'm just here to have a conversation."

A brief smile flickered over his lips, and quickly he made his way up the steps of the house.

Within just a few moments the Bandit Chief was knocking on the door of the Manor. If he felt any sense of irony at this, he didn't show it. In fact had it at all been possible this would always have been how he did things. A conversation was much easier than a battle.

Whether it was held with one man or ten. He preferred to speak, at least when there was a resolution to be had.

It was not long after his knock that the door opened, a very surprised Mayor standing within his nightgown. Solgrin smiled, said something, and then did not wait for an invite to push himself inside. Near fifteen minutes passed, and then finally the Bandit Chief emerged from the home once more.

He trod down the steps towards Einar and Serafina. "We have an accord."

Solgrin said with a rather pleased smile.
 
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Serafina

The Heir of Marcell
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Sera and Einar glanced at each other once Solgrin disappeared inside the house. There was an uneasy tension between them only built upon as the Northerner ran his fingers over his axe again in a mindless caress.

"I don't want to hurt ye, lass," he said slowly and softly like speaking to a scared dog ready to attack. Nipper growled and she had to give him a few pats to calm him down.

"I know you don't, Einar," she assured him with a smile. "Solgrin will be back soon and we'll be able to get your daughter back and stop this from happening again - isn't that worth waiting a few more hours for?" the Northerner snorted but lapsed into silence. At least he didn't try to run.

She was still relieved when Solgrin returned though and Einar sat up straighter.

"And what exactly is that accord?" he asked gruffly.
 
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Solgrin

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Solgrin eyed the man carefully, frowning for just a brief moment before he glanced over towards Serafina with no small amount of concern.

"They'll cut off the Temple." He explained. "Apparently they send up...supplies frequently."

He wasn't sure how else to put it. "Packages arrive at the village frequently, ostensibly for the smithie and the tannery, but are then forwarded to the Temple."

Solgrin guessed that these were likely ingredients purchased from far afield. Alchemical components required for the Necromancers preparations. Without them their work would be disturbed. "That along with the lack of food will have them come calling."

That was what the dispute had been about earlier in the day. The Mayor had begun to ask questions, his concerns growing over just what the Temple was doing.
 
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Serafina

The Heir of Marcell
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"That's gre--"

"THAT COULD TAKE DAYS!" Einar roared making Nipper frisk several paces away and spin on the spot. Sera had to use all her strength to bring the wild beast back under control. She pulled a face then patted the warg once more as it snarled in Einar's direction to which Einar's mount snarled back. The northman didn't seem to care as he swung off the animal and marched over to Solgrin.

"This is all taking too long," he hissed and jammed a finger into Solgrin's chest. Sera quickly scrambled off Nipper's back. "You said we'd get her back. Not play hero to every other fucker we met along the way."
 
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Solgrin

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Solgrin didn't move. He was like a statue.

Over the last few days he had tried to be kinder. Tried to be more gentle and caring. Yet that only went so far. He knew Einar was in a rush. He knew that he wanted nothing more than his baby girl. It was an urge Solgrin could never truly understand, but one that he wanted to support with all his heart.

He frowned, and then stepped forward towards the Northman.

Einar was a good bit taller than him, but that didn't matter. Of the two of them only one had the curse, and that alone would win him the fight if it came to it. "I know."

He told the man.

"I know you want her back." His voice was stern, focused, calm. "But if we go in there now we all wind up dead. Me, you, the others, Serafina."

Solgrin stared at the northman. "Is that what you want? For us to throw our lives away for a chance?"

His teeth grit together. "Or do you want to succeed?"

Fingers balled into a fist, ready to strike.
 
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Serafina

The Heir of Marcell
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Einar trembled with the anger and years of pent up emotions relating to his lost child. Sera couldn't even begin to comprehend what it was he was feeling and a pang of guilt laced through her as she thought of her own father; was this how he felt too? She hoped Violet's return would ease his mind a little. The Northman balled his own hands into fists and with a roar of anger he swung. Not for Solgrin, though it certainly looked like that, but straight into the stone wall behind him.

Sera grimaced and went quickly to his side. Put a gentle hand on his back as quiet sobs choked the man.

"Oh Einar," she sighed and glanced to Solgrin. "Why don't we go and get a drink? Look at that hand?" he must have broken a knuckle or two, maybe even his whole hand.
 
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Solgrin

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The Northman shook his head.

"No."​

It was a quick, terse, answer as he shrugged off Serafina. Fingers unfurled and then he stalked off. He cast one last look over towards Solgrin, then Serafina. It looked as though he were about to shout something else, say something else, but his head only shook.

Solgrin watched for a moment as the Northmen sat himself down on a boulder sitting in the middle of the square. He sat there, staring at the ground like a lifeless statue. "I don't know if finding her body will make this better."

He said quietly.

"I think...part of him still hopes he'll find more." The Bandit Chief looked down at Serafina, a frown on his face.

Solgrin didn't know if he had an answer for this. If he could make it better.
 
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Serafina

The Heir of Marcell
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Sera watched him go sadly and wrapped her arms around herself.

"I think you're right," she wished he wasn't but she saw it too. There was a lot of pain in Einar, a lot of anger. Focusing on getting his daughter's body back was a way to focus all that into one mission. But now they were getting closer maybe he was realising the fantasy he had might not come to full fruition and it was only throwing salt into that wound.

"I don't know how to help him, I have all this magic... there must be something..."
 
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Solgrin

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"There isn't anything anyone can do." He said quietly, lips still turned to a frown. "No one can fight death, or what comes with it."

A frown touched his lips as he slowly glanced down at Serafina. "He never grieved, never really had to."

It was a common thing, for soldiers.

"It's easy to ignore your own pain, easy to forget when you're fighting a battle." He wasn't sure that Serafina would know, so he thought it simple to explain. "That was what half of all of...this..."

He gestured to the bandits, the others. "All was. A way to distract, to not linger. It's easier to follow another man's goal than to question your own."

Solgrin glanced back towards Einar.

"Now that he's looking...it's eating him up. A thousand questions. Why didn't he come earlier. Why wasn't he there. Why did he fail." He frowned. "Even if he didn't."

All those questions rose within the Northman's head, and no answer came. None would come. Not even when he had her back.
 
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Serafina

The Heir of Marcell
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"We can't just leave him there, like this we have to..." Sera trailed off. It was as useless a conversation as it had been trying to convince Solgrin not to die. She couldn't control Einar's emotions. She couldn't reverse time or cheat death. If, if his daughter was alive like he so desperately hoped, even Sera knew it wouldn't be in the way he wanted. What then?

"I think Einar is going to die here," she said quietly and turned to him with sad tears forming in her eyes. "I think a part of him died when his daughter did and I'm scared getting closure on this will rid him of the last thing keeping him going."

And all of them would he helpless to stop it.
 
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Solgrin

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For a few seconds Solgrin remained quiet, looking down at Serafina. There was pity in his eyes, gaze sweeping over her with a slight frown. "If he does...that's on him."

He said softly.

The words were not meant to be cruel, but even to his own ears they sounded so. He couldn't help but keep the despair from his voice, but the truth of it was as clear as day to him. The Bandit Chief had seen this so many times before, the will of a person lost, invested so heavily in something that lay before them.

"He has to decide, Sera." He told her softly. "No one else can."

Solgrin glanced over towards the other man. "We can tell him where we stand, what we want, but ultimately...the choice is his."

And taking it away was it's own cruelty.
 
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Serafina

The Heir of Marcell
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Sera didn't say a word. She couldn't, really. He was as right as he had been the other day when he had told her there was nothing she could do to stop his death. Now, it seemed, there was nothing she could do to stop Einar's if he chose to throw it away. That didn't stop it being sad or from making her feel useless. All that power and again and again she kept coming up against problems she couldn't solve. In fact, she hadn't been able to solve anything with it. After all these months of believing if she could have control over it herself she'd be able to do whatever she wanted...

With a sigh and a slump of her shoulders she turned away from watching Einar who had begun to sharpen and clean his blade. She looked instead up at Solgrin and there was another glimmer missing from them when she did.

"So what do we do about the town now?"
 
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Solgrin

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Solgrin watched his friend for a few more moments before slowly turning his attention back towards Serafina. He had to listen to his own advice, as difficult as even that was to do. "The Mayor is going to take care of that."

He said quietly.

"We'll have to watch for stragglers, but he's assured me that he'll stop everything from going to the Temple." It would take a few days, as he had said, but at the very least they would be able to put pressure on the necromancers.

"Once the food stops coming, and the delivery isn't made, they'll send someone." Solgrin continued to explain. "We grab them, and...ask some questions."

That was the nice way of putting it. "Half of the time all you can do is wait. That's most of what being a soldier is."

As much as most hated it.
 
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Serafina

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Sera gave him a weak smile.

"That sounds really boring, nothing like the stories," of course she knew by now that the stories were exactly that, but she knew how naïve she was in comparison to the others in the band. Sometimes it was amusing to poke fun at herself to ease the tension in moments such as these. It also distracted her a little from the thundery presence that was Einar.

"Are we allowed to stay in the town till then? Maybe we should find somewhere to bunk for the night," they'd come in evening but the deepest part of the night was fast approaching. Most of the town had their shutters bolted tight.
 
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