Private Tales The Right Tree

A private roleplay only for those invited by the first writer

Kol

Twice Bloodied
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The Lost Isles
Bhan

Another fleet lost.

Another half dozen ships smashed upon the rocks of the Lost Isles, destroyed within the mists and rent unto the corals that sat around their home. The Dark Gods had sent a message, a sign, their laughter ringing within his skull as he watched his ships sundered and the men upon them drown. It was clear what they desired, clear what they wanted.

More.

Not the paltry little boats that he had sent forth, not those he had set upon this raid, but more. Their words had echoed in his skull and their call was understood. That was why he had come here, why he had wandered all the way across this Isle from his own. Making it here had not been hard, not when the Dark Gods had cleared the path for him.

His steps crunched against the black stone, a building taking shape just ahead.

As he moved he could hear the Dark Gods in his skull. They whispered of his path, of what he would find here. Of the greatness which could be birthed from this venture.

A ship.

An armada.

More.

That was why he had come here. That was why the Dark Gods had set his path onto this Island. The Nordwiir stepped forward, calling out. "Bone Whisperer!"

He shouted.
 
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He wiped the blood off his father's lips. The coughing fits came sooner now, the time between them lessened and this was what told Bhan that it would be soon. There was no sadness in him over it. Only that his father would die in his bed, instead of in glorious battle. Once upon a time Valki had been a large man. Muscular and stately like a tree. An oak that was rooted firmly in the ground. Not a warrior, no, but the ships he had build for their clans had been exceptional.

The Gods pleased regardless of the lack of blood send their way.

Bhan suspected his father had always been disappointed with him. Short, sinewy, more cords than muscles on his thin frame. Took it from his mother, the only thing Valki wanted to say about her. It didn't matter. He'd make sure his father would be remembered. His glory enshrined up high with the greatest warrior.

This was something the old bear deser-

"Bone Whisperer!"

It shook him out of his revelry, brows furrowed as he looked above to the sky. The Gods were quiet. That would never last, but at least for now he could behave civilly. He tucked the blankets a bit higher over the sleeping body and rose up.

Coming down the stairs and opening the door to see who would call.

By that name too. That meant something, he knew it did.

"I am here." Bhan simply said, cleaning his hands with a rag as he leaned against the doorpost. The man in front of him was younger, but someone his father would have been proud of to call son. Tall, build like a battering ram in transit.

There he tilted his head, like he was listening to something up high.

"They say I should help you with whatever you need. They say you might bring glory to our people. Might. If you are strong enough."

Kol
 
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Kol looked at the man closely, eyes flickering over the tattoos and the way that he stood.

The Sorcerer did not judge his people by their appearance, he knew better than that. Among the Nordwiir ones outer appearance meant nothing. He had met women barely standing to his chest that could slaughter three men before they even had a chance to draw their blade.

Each Blessing bestowed upon the Nordwiir was a boon granted by the Gods, a trove of ability that they all possessed in some way. It was what made them who they were, what defined them.

A thousand voices rang in his head. Some offered information, some offered lies. They were always there, clamoring for his attention, demanding he follow the path that they wanted to set for him. Yet as he stood there, as the Whisperer and he began to speak, the Dark Gods quieted.

They were not silent, they had never been silent. Yet their raucous screams and incessant laughter fell to a din.

It was a mark of how much they wanted this, how they had plucked the strings of fate and forced Kol upon this path. His gaze flickered away from Bahn for a moment, observing the wide smile that broke the air behind him. One of the Dark Gods watching with it's eyeless gaze. "They do."

The Dark Gods often lied.

Kol had never understood why. Perhaps for their own amusement, perhaps because of their cross desires. Whatever the reason was, he had long ago learned to serve and listen, but to do so carefully.

"And I might." He said, dragging his gaze back to Bahn and away from that eyeless Grin that hung behind him. "But I cannot do it alone."

Those words alone marked him as so very different than many other Warlords that had come and gone within the Lost Isles. Strength was key in their people, showing that you could not just dominate, but beat anyone who might oppose you.

For Kol it was different. His was not a contest of strength, but of will. He knew he could do what the Dark Gods asked, but not in the way their people had tried so many times before. "I seek more than just a ship."

He said, laying his intent bare.
 
Kol

That was a first.

Every two-bit warlord in a hundred mile radius around these parts considered themselves the sole gift of the gods to this continent. They wanted to be in control. Never wanted to cooperate. None of this was a problem to Bhan, note. In fact he considered it the proper thing. It set them aside from the sheep of the South. Who wanted to be led, who massed together like a herd for the slaughter.

Not them.

"Oh, you can't? Well, then I am af-" He froze up. His eyes sliding away from Kol towards something unseen past his shoulder.

"It's not how we do things." Bhan added stiffly, but Kol would get the impression he wasn't talking to him. "Those who rely on-" Jaw set, sinewy cords tightened in his neck as pain laced through his skull. "F-fine." He managed, before whatever had been afflicting him let go.

He smiled there again towards Kol, this time it was a bloody smile, before he rubbed it off the corner of his mouth.

"It seems our Gods have a very strong opinion in this matter. You don't want a ship. You want a fleet, yes? An armada of the finest, to siege the South in their fat safe cities."
 
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Kol didn't move as the man held his conversation, the Sorcerer simply watching with the same intense gaze that always seemed to cling to his face.

There was an emptiness to his eyes, the way he looked at things and the way his gaze shifted between what was around him almost dead in a way. The Dark Gods touched upon all Nordwir, sometimes spoke to them, sometimes remained silent and offered only their blessings.

None of them had a choice in the matter. Whichever truth was bestowed on them. "Fate finds it's way."

He murmured quietly, the words a mockery of ones he had been told by a Witch he had met in the south.

"A fleet, yes." Slowly he looked around. "To carry us from these Isles, and sow our rebuke."

Distaste flickered across his tongue. "Something that can carry us far, beyond the Tundra."

Beyond the Cubs that waited there.

"I want more than what they have." The Dark Gods smiled down upon him as he spoke of his plans, all of them whispering, urging him onward.
 
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"Fate?" A grunt there. "Maybe for some. Only the Gods govern my way."

A sigh there as he stroked loose strands of hair back, eyeing Kol warily in the meantime. "I can build this for you." Nodding there as he started thinking about it in earnest. "For the Gods." Almost immediately correcting himself there. "I don't usually argue with them..."

His lips were dry, parched, throat like a desert (even if he had never seen one before), it always took a lot out of him to talk to them directly.

"But you are exceptionally blessed. They are making an exception for you. They want to see what you can do for them." Bhan stepped out of the house proper. Closing the door behind him before approaching the young warrior in front of him. His hand already stretching out for a shake. "You know me. Who are you? Who came here at my doorstep, desiring a fleet to put all others to shame?"

"I can find you the trees. I can design things that are inspired from the Gods themselves." Tapping his temple there, before pointing up to the sky. "But if you want an armada, we will need far more than you and me. Laborers three times what the nearest village has. I assume you have those in your pocket, hm?"

Making a show of looking around, before looking over Kol's shoulder to see if he was hiding a whole army of workers behind his back.
 
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"I am Kol, Twice Bloodied." How many times had he introduced himself now? How many times had he said his own name?

His hand came out, clasping Bhan's arm in greeting.

The Sorcerer listened carefully as the man spoke, his expression remaining that dead gaze. Around both of them the smirks seemed to wide, though Kol did not know if the other man could see them. No one else had ever commented on their presence, but Kol had long ago assumed they were real.

How could they not be when they spoke. "I have what you need."

The land they lived upon was a string of a hundred Isles. An archipelago hidden within the mists and shrouded by ice. Intolerable to traverse and nearly impossible to conquer. The nature of their home was what made unity so difficulty.

A fact Kol himself had needed to overcome.

It was not until he had taken Skad and his other Lieutenants into his fold that he had truly understood how.

"Slaves and Kin." Men and women taken from the South, Nordwiir who were loyal and devout. The former he and Skad had taken from the latest raid, the latter had come one their own. "They will come when called."
 
"Well, you are certainly an enterprising fellow, aren't you?"

But Bhan smiled warmly there now. His hand moving to clap Kol on the shoulder, while holding that clasp. As if they were old comrades-in-arms. Rather than two strangers who had only met about five minutes ago. This is how it went with Bhan however.

Once the Gods were on your side... he was on your side.

The hope was always that the Gods would remain on your side however. Otherwise Bhan became quite the erratic presence that should never be trusted.

Either way-

With one more glance over his shoulder to the house Bhan began walking towards the forest. "Right, let's go and take a look what we have today. I have been saving some good trees." The man murmured, while rubbing his hands.

"They will make your ships sing as they pierce through the waves."

Bhan looked over to Kol as they walked. "Who are you aiming to sack first, Twice-Bloodied?"
 
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There was an entire world that they could burn, continents that most of his people could only dream of.

Months ago, perhaps a year now, the Dark Gods had taken him from the Lost Isles and seen him wander the Tundra. There he had found a stone, a remarkable thing that had taken him further west than any Nordwiir had ever gone before.

The lands there had been rich, plentiful, and weak.

He remembered the mages that he had met there, the weakness that they had shown. They would not reach those lands by ship, not unless they traveled for a year and a day, but the thought did appeal to him. As it did to the Dark Gods.

Yet one had to be realistic. "There is a land, they call it the Blight."

He told the Ship-Builder.

"It is a broken, barren land, but it's lord is rich." He had seen that kingdom himself, the wealth that it held. "I intend to take that wealth from him."

Then use it to build a launching off point for the future. "I don't intend to follow in the footsteps of our ancestors and meddle with the Cubs in the south. I want more than the Tundra. More than another wasteland."