Fable - Ask The Tides of Fate

[Kol]

As Ruvsa dressed herself the skinwolf seemed to stare. He stood a head and a half taller than Kol, his beady eyes peering at the Sorcerer. Lips curled back in disgust. He glanced over towards the other four Nordwiir, particularly Estrid.

Something lingered in the air there, something unsaid. Kol only stared at the man, his head held high. It was as though he were daring the man.

Arthix growled low, and then slowly he turned away and stalked off towards the crowd. The instant Arthix drew near people seemed to flow away. A child whimpered, hiding behind her mothers leg as the Skinwolf stepped passed.

Kol seemed to sway in place for a moment, grabbing onto the splinter of wood in his side. A grimace flickered over his lips as he looked after Arthix, then glanced at Ruvsa. "Only my best."

The Sorcerer said with a wry smile.

"Help me to the twins, would you?" Kol said. "Between having my larynx crushed and this thing in my side I'm finding it difficult to stand."

He'd no problem admitting weakness, not right now. The Dark Gods whispered in his ear of course, offered their power, their hand, but it wasn't time. Not yet. His strength needed to be saved.

Just in case.

 

[Ruvsá]

Ruvsá had not expected there to be quite this many Nordwiir here, and as the air fairly crackled with tension, she wondered what history there was between Kol and this... Arthix. Clearly, besides the abandonment thing, there was some sort of issue between them.

She ignored Arthix when he stalked away, turning her attention back to Kol. At his request, Ruvsá nodded, ducking under his arm on his non-wounded side to support him.

"That will get infected," Ruvsá muttered to him as they took slow steps across the square. "This is not the type of impaling I had in mind for tonight's fun."

She jerked her head in the direction of the other Nordwiir. "Do any of them have skill in healing? I'll admit that a wound of this type is a little beyond my meager expertise."

 

[Kol]

Kol chuckled. "Doesn't feel as good for me either."

The Sorcerer said with a shake of his head, hand flicking over the piece of wood stuck into his side.

In the back of his mind the Dark Gods called out to him. They offered healing. They offered strength. All he had to take was another step, another little move towards them. What was another piece of him? What was another part of a thousand already given?

But he resisted. Waited.

"No." He told her softly. "Estrid and Elwin are undying, until they face a Titan."

That was their blessing. Their gift from the Dark Gods. "Saemund holds the blessings of Ithrir, fire and inferno."

If nothing else he would be useful when taking the siege engines.

"And Bjorn...he is...hard to describe. Suffice to say, his touch is not healing. The Sorcerer shook his head, looking up at Ruvsa. "I'll be alright, but the conversation needs to be had first."

To ensure no one would slit his throat. "Then we find somewhere quiet."

 

[Ruvsá]

A lot of what Kol said meant little to Ruvsá. Undying and titans... a god whose name meant nothing to her. Fire, though...

"If that wound needs cauterizing, fire could be helpful," Ruvsá replied. If this Saemund had decent control of it, it would be better than trying to do it with a hot blade.

They were near the twins then, though, and Ruvsá carefully helped him the remainder of the distance, just giving the two women a tight smile and a nod in way of greeting. She stayed tucked under Kol's arm to let him lean on her.

 

[Kol]

Kol nodded.

The wound was deep, and had he been an ordinary man it likely would not have healed on it's own. For Kol though, that sort of thing was different. The Dark Gods would bless him once he desired, would take the pain and the marring of his flesh away.

But he had to ask.

A favor, another sliver of his soul. The Sorcerer was not unwilling, but he had to bide his time. If the others decided to side with Arthix there would be trouble, the sort which he could only solve with the Blessings of his gods. "Estrid, Elwin."

Kol said in greeting, the twins standing forward a bit. Both of them stared at Kol, Estrid with a softer expression than her sister. Then they looked towards the two men expectantly.

"Saemund, I see the fire has not consumed you." Then he peered at Bjorn. "You've lived well in this village?"

There was a pause, a long pause. Then finally Bjorn broke the silence.

"Better since the Orcs showed up, numbers are too few in the northmen...they notice."​

Saemund let out a laugh, and with that the tension seemed to break slightly. Estrid stepped forward to Kol's side, helping Ruvsa take some of the Sorcerer's weight from her shoulder.

"Come, this way. We have a hut to ourselves, we'll patch you up there."​

Estrid said, looking to Ruvsa to help hobble the injured Sorcerer towards the other side of the village. "Did the others leave?"

"No. Arthix lead them across the river a few weeks ago. He was the only one that came back."​

Ah. When he'd left this city there had been near enough a dozen or so Nordwiir who had chosen to stay. On the original raid there had been near ten times that number of course, but he'd sent the majority home to the Isles with their takings. Those who had not gone had wanted to follow him further on, something There Sorcerer himself had not wanted.

Kol gave Ruvsa a look, one that warned her not to get too comfortable with any of his kin.

 

[Ruvsá]

Ruvsá didn't try yet to keep straight which twin had which name. One of them seemed... oddly gently, for what Ruvsá expected of the Nordwiir, though. She was the one who stepped to Kol's other side to help support him.

She nodded as the woman mentioned a hut, and with the two of them supporting Kol they were able to move through the village a little faster. The conversation was... interesting, but she didn't really have anything to contribute, at least not to all of them. If Kol wanted her insights later, he would ask.

When Kol looked down at her, with a cautious warning in his eye, Ruvsá laughed softly and just nodded. Even if she had known nothing about his people, the conversation alone would have made her distrustful. It didn't do to be careless and trusting around one person who openly admitted he was behind people's disappearances, and another who'd led people away only to return alone.

"We'll need clean rags and water that's been boiled and cooled," Ruvsá said as they neared the hut. Her gaze shifted to Saemund. "And the wound might need cauterizing. I won't know until I can look at it closer."

She glanced back up at Kol. "Might as well try to give your gods as little to do as possible."

 

[Kol]

The hut was something of a shamble, at least on the outside.

Much of the structure appeared as though it were about to fall into pieces, thought as Elwin opened the door it became clear that the building was anything but. The inside of the hut was near enough luxurious. A dozen beds lined the outside, a hearth fire sitting at the very center of the building.

There were no decorations on the wall, thought carvings of strange runes seemed to decorate many of the wooden features. As they carried Kol inside Saemund replied to Ruvsa.

"Aye, that will be no problem."​

The man said with a nod, Kol grimacing as the two women lead him towards one of the cot like beds.

"Leathers off first, eh?" The Sorcerer said with a grimace, his hand still half settled on the wooden spear in his side.

Estrid only gave a grim nod, stripping off Kol's armor.

As the leather fell away the extent of the wound became more than clear. The splinter of wood was near an inch around, it's head having impaled directly between Kol's last two ribs. His flesh sealed it in place, it's point likely having barely just missed his vital organs.

Kol glanced down at it, scowling. "Arthix always did know how to throw."

He said with a grimace, looking up at Ruvsa.

"One of you pull it out, Saemund seals the wound?" The Sorcerer asked.

 

[Ruvsá]

"No." Ruvsá almost rolled her eyes at how idiotic Kol's suggestion was. "I need to make sure it didn't impale your liver and nick or sever an artery. Even cauterizing won't help if an artery is shredded. But I suppose you should be grateful that it wasn't higher, otherwise you'd have a punctured lung."

As she talked, Ruvsá removed her vambraces and rolled up her sleeves. "A wound that deep needs to bleed a little before it's closed up, too, or else it will get infected. And I need to make sure there's no splinters left behind."

She glanced over at the twins. "I'll need that boiled water and clean rags," she said. "Whatever lanterns or candles you have as well, so I can see properly."

Ruvsá knelt beside the cot then, looking at the wound as best she could without actually touching it. "Hopefully it's just in the muscle," she muttered. "If it made it to the liver, things will be much more complicated.

"Seamund, I'll need you right beside me when we get started," she said, "so I can show you exactly where to use your... fire."

She sighed then, and looked at Kol. "It's going to hurt."

 

[Kol]

For a few moments the Nordwiir did not move as Ruvsa spoke to them. Each of them seemed to tense, Saemund raised an eyebrow.

Estrid and Elwin stared at Kol intently, watching for his reaction.

It was their way. Nordwiir did not respect any leadership save for strength. They had seen Ruvsa fight Kol, but only in hand to hand combat. Kol had earned the respect of his people not through such things, but the magic that clung to him.

He knew what they expected, knew that they thought the Dark Gods could simply heal their chosen. They were not wrong of course, but theirs was a power he knew he would need later. Using it now would be a waste, selling a sliver of himself for a pittance.

"Do it." The Sorcerer said with a grimace. "There is blood and death ahead."

Kol told them. "I will not waste what I have."

The logic seemed to resonate with the others, and quickly they sprang into action. Estrid and Elwin gathered water, torches and candles were quickly set, and Kol glanced down towards Ruvsa.

"You might...see something unpleasant." He told her. "Looking into the wound."

The words were cryptic, quiet, but a warning nonetheless. "Don't worry too much."

 

[Ruvsá]

Ruvsá nodded grimly at Kol's words as the others sprang into action. She pulled a stool over and directed where the candles and torches were set so she wouldn't cast a shadow over where she needed to see. When the water was boiling, she ladled some out into a smaller bowl and directed everyone to clean their hands as thoroughly as possible. Then she poured hot water over some of the cloths and let them soak, and set more of the water aside where she could reach it easily to rinse blood off her hands whenever needed.

She directed Seamund to sit right beside her, and had Estrid and Elwin restrain Kol's hands and legs. "Sit on him, if you have to," she said. "Hopefully he'll pass out... but some reason I doubt that will happen."

Finally, she wrung out one of the hot, wet cloths till it was just damp, and grabbed a wad of dry cloths in her other hand.

"All right," she told Seamund. "Pull it out."

 

[Kol]

Estrid and Elwin reached for Kol, following Ruvsa's directions, yet as their hands moved towards him The Sorcerer only shook his head.

The twins seemed to stall for a moment, and then they simply stood by at the ready. Both of them knew better than to disobey, knew what could happen if Kol became truly angry with them. At the same time they did not want to tempt fate, and thus simply remained at the ready.

Saemund on the other hand gave no second of hesitation.

He stepped forward just as Ruvsa spoke, grabbing the end of the massive splinter and gripping it tight. There was just a brief breath, a moment, and then the Nordwiir wrenched the small pike out of Kol's side.

The Sorcerer's eyes bulged for a brief moment, his lips parting in a gasp as pain wracked through the entirety of his body. His skin rolled with goosebumps, fingers tightening on his knees as an odd sort of agony rushed over his form.

As the pain game, the wound in his side began to burn.

Brackish black blood began to slowly pour from the gash like molasses, dripping down his skin at a steady pace. Within the wound itself Ruvsa would see flesh, and yet something else. Movement, a strange sort of worm like creature that seemed to slowly knit through his flesh.

No organs had been pierced, not that she would see, but the wound was deep. Enough that an ordinary man would have bled much more.

 

[Ruvsá]

Ruvsá sighed a little as Kol made Estrid and Elwin stand back, but if he wanted to risk the extra hurt of he flinched wrong, then that was on him.

As soon as Seamund pulled the splinter of wood out, Ruvsá moved. While the wound bled, she used the dry cloths to mop up the blood that seeped out, wincing at sight of the wormlike creature within it.

Then she grimaced, and carefully thrust a finger into the wound, slowly prodding to make sure that there were no more pieces of the splinter within it.

"It all feels like muscle, thankfully," she muttered, forcing herself to ignore the... other thing. She doubted she could pull it out. Even if it was tangible, she didn't want to think of what it might do to her if she tried. "The wood missed your liver."

She took her finger out and wiped it on the dry cloths, then gently stuffed the damp cloth into the seeping wound. She stepped away to rinse her hands. If she'd had a way to stitch the wound closed, she would have preferred that. But Seamund would have to take care of it now.

"Don't let him thrash," she warned Estrid and Elwin.

"When I pull out the cloth," Ruvsá said to Seamund, "start cauterizing. Don't go too deep into the flesh, just sear the raw parts of the wound."

She glanced at Estrid and Elwin to see if they were ready, then back at Seamund. Without a warning, she gripped the edges of the damp, bloodied cloth and tanked it out.

 

[Kol]

When Ruvsa stuck her digit into the wound Kol let out a small yelp of pain. His lips parted, and Elwin immediately put a hand on his shoulder to stop him from jerking around. Fingers dug tightly into his bare skin, and the woman stared into his eyes.

The only comfort she offered him was a shake of her head.

It was almost like a dare. A small prod. It seemed that without a word the Nordwiir seemed to tell Kol one simple thing; Move, and you'll be marked by weakness.

His people prided themselves upon what they could survive. Their home was one of death. A day without the proper care could see you die in a hundred different ways. A week without care and you would certainly pass. A wound was no different.

This was a pain they could handle, that they expected him to cope with.

Kol took in a deep breath, wincing slightly as Ruvsa withdrew her digit and spoke quickly to Saemund.

As she spoke the devotee seemed to stretch. His shoulders squared, and fingers slowly scrunched into a fist. A tilt of his head was the only answer she would receive, his finger flicking forward. There was a brief spark, and then fire broke into life.

Then another spark of pain flowed through Kol.

Ruvsa ripped the cloth free, it's linens stained with that odd black blood. He took in a sharp breath, and then Saemund reached over to sear his flesh shut. In an instant the small cabin was filled with the scent of burnt skin, wafting into the air and giving a sickly aroma of death to the air.

Kol grimaced, a throaty growl of pain escaping him as his flesh was sealed.

 

[Ruvsá]

Ruvsá's nose wrinkled at the smell of burning flesh, but as soon as Saemund was finished, she was dabbing at the wound with a clean cloth and wiping up the last traces of blood as she checked the wound. There was still a hole, but it was not raw and bleeding anymore, and she nodded with satisfaction.

"Well done," she told Saemund, then looked at Elwin. "You can let Kol go now."

She had Kol sit up then, and put a folded square of clean cloth over the wound, then bound it in place with a longer strip around his torso. "You'll have to be careful until it's healed," she said, "whether naturally or by... other means. If you strain it too much it could open and bleed again."

 

[Kol]

Elwin released Kol's shoulder, her touch lingering for only a moment after Ruvsa spoke. "Mm."

The Sorcerer responded with a nod as the Nordenfiir instructed him.

There was little chance for rest of course, perhaps a few hours, a day at most until Menalus' fleet appeared on the horizon. Yet his body would do the work of healing, at least enough that it would not become a problem. He hoped anyway.

After a moment more he spoke again.

"There will be battle soon." He looked up at the Nordwiir. "Make sure you're ready for it."

The Nordwiir all looked at each other, sharing glances. Then slowly they nodded. "Elwin, Saemund. Go see to Arthix."

The two always did get along the best with the skinwolf.

"Bjorn, join those at the docks. Watch them closely." The words were cryptic, but there was another nod and then he broke away.

"And me?"​

Estrid ask, taking an eager step forward. "Watch the Jarl."

There was a sharp nod, and then the twin turned on her heel and followed the others out the door.

 

[Ruvsá]

While Kol gave orders to the others, Ruvsá quietly gathered the basin of bloodied water and the soiled clothes. The cloths were just tossed into the fire, and the water she took outside--just a few moments after Estrid strode out the door--and dumped several paces away from the house in a spot where the ground quickly soaked it up. She rinsed it with clean water until there was no hint of blood remaining when she dumped it out, then propped the bowl up at the side of the house so it would catch the last rays of sunlight.

If you can't scrub something clean right away, her mother had always told her, sunlight is the next best way to kill germs.

It was quiet when she stepped back into the hut, and she ignored Kol for a few more minutes as she rifled through some cupboards and found a bit of lye soap. With the last of the warm, clean water, she scrubbed her hands clean, making sure to get all of the blood out from under her fingernails.

Then she sat down next to Kol with a quiet sigh.

"Why are you having her watch the Jarl?" she asked, curious.

 

[Kol]

As Ruvsa went about the linens Kol sat idly on the cot. His eyes were closed and there was an odd serenity that clung to him.

The Dark Gods were whispering to him, lies flowing from their lips in a constant stream. He tried to sort through them, the words spoken. There was one in particular he was after, one which rarely broke through the constant drone.

His eyes snapped open as he found it. "To make sure he follows the plan."

Kol explained, idly stroking his fingers over the now sealed wound in his side.

"Sindric is smart, he saw the value in your words, but he has a tendency towards...heroics." Something that Ruvsa had already read of the man upon their meeting. Kol had no intention of throwing his life away here. "Estrid will ensure that he does nothing...brash when word comes."

He mused for a second. "What did you think of them?"

The Sorcerer asked her.

 

[Ruvsá]

Ruvsá nodded quietly. Sindric would indeed be the most volatile part of their plans... other than Arthix.

When Kol asked what she thought of his companions, she thought quietly for a moment before answering.

"Arthix is, clearly, hot-headed," she snorted. "I wouldn't turn my back to him." Partly because he'd seemed displeased that Kol was associating with her kind.

"Bjorn I don't know yet... he's stayed quiet so far, just watching. Saemund seems like he might be reliable. Estrid and Elwin... they might be twins, but they are certainly opposites of each other in some ways. But they both seem... fond of you." Fond wasn't necessarily the right word. Perhaps saying that they were drawn to Kol might be a better description of what she'd seen.

"Those two... I definitely feel like I'm being assessed. Estrid especially seems eager to please you, and because of that she might either try to be friendly with me, or she might despise me. It's hard to say, really, at this point."

 

[Kol]

Kol gave Ruvsa a bemused smile. ”Apt assessments.”

He told her.

She was close, really. Saemund was the most reliable of the group, and her take on the others was near spot on. The twins were loyal, though only as loyal as any Nordwiir could be. They were true believers, trusting in the will of the Dark Gods. In a way they had to be, for their fate and life was tied to prophecies offered by their patrons.

”The Twins will warm to you, Estrid is not the type to be jealous.” He gave Ruvsa and amused smile, then continued. ”I took her from the Isles, and for her that is enough. She trusts me. Her sister is...colder, but they are two sides of the same coin.”

He shook his head, as if he were going to say something else.

After a small pause he continued. ”Saemund will move as his Patron wills, and he is with me yet.”

”Bjorn is…” His head shook again. ”Try not to stand close to him.”

The Sorcerer did not elaborate, though there was a sense to his words that perhaps the man was not deliberately dangerous to her.

”Arthix will turn the way I want once he tastes battle. He does not like your kind, but only because of what you represent in his mind.” The Sorcerer said, running a hand along his jaw. ”Even if you were the strongest or weakest of your people he would still despise you.”

Though he supposed that was hardly a comfort.

 

[Ruvsá]

Ruvsá smiled as Kol praised her observations. She'd had time to learn. To overthink, and figure out where her original assessments of Aggar had gone wrong. Sometimes it lent toward paranoia, but she'd been working on tempering that, and was pleased that her assessments of his companions had been accurate.

She nodded once at the warning about Bjorn, though she wasn't sure what to make of it. But Kol was definitely not one to say more than was necessary, so she didn't pry. When he mentioned Arthix's dislike of the Nordenfiir, she just shrugged. It wasn't uncommon.

"Do you want help lying back down?" she asked. "You should rest while you can."

 

[Kol]

"Rest." He mused the word over quietly.

If only such a thing were even possible.

He could remember a time when the Dark Gods had not whispered to him constantly. When he did not see them lurk over the shoulders of friend and foe alike. Even in the rare times that he slept Kol was still disturbed by them, sometimes even more so.

Things were more clear in the dream, easier for them to change, manipulate.

Perhaps that was what he needed now. He'd found the voice. The one that he had been looking for, perhaps in his dreams he would find more. "I think, yes."

He said, reaching out for her assistance.

 

[Ruvsá]

Ruvsá stood and slid her arm behind Kol's shoulders, carefully helping him to lean back without putting strain on his abdomen. Once he was relatively comfortable, she pulled a blanket over him. "You need to stay warm," she murmured. "So your body can heal more efficiently."

She had no idea when any of the others would be back, and she wasn't one to go rifling through a personal space just for curiosity's sake. So she removed her armor, but not her knives, and then settled on the bed next to Kol, even though the space was a bit tight. She didn't trust any of the others yet, and while she was sure she would rouse if someone actually tried to sneak up on her, it was better if Kol was close to intervene.

"Try to sleep," she said, settling her head on his shoulder, and closing her eyes with a sigh.

 

[Kol]

It was a startling thing, a caring touch.

Most Nordwiir would have thrown him on the cot and simply called it a day. If death came to him then death would come. That was the way of their people, how it worked. The Dark Gods would either bless you with life or they wouldn't.

It was such a strange conveyance, to experience something else. "The attempt will surely be made."

He told her as he closed his eyes.

Sleep would come, eventually, though the ever elusive rest would not.

The abyss was the domain of the Dark Gods, they waited, watched, and when Kol came to them they awaited with open arms. Their voices were all that he could hear within this world, all encompassing. His own thoughts were lost, gone. All that existed were the whispers within his mind, the screams of the Dark Gods.

His patrons.

Through them he wandered. Some grasping at his flesh, others tearing at his soul. Through their ominous forms he walked, until he found the one he was looking for. His face was a mask of marble, an ever changing depiction of a thousand expression. He stared at Kol, and Kol stared at him.

Kol's eyes snapped open, his head picking up almost immediately as the horn sounded again, and then a third time. "The Fleet."

He said quietly.

The Sorcerer had no idea how long he'd slept, how much time had passed, but it did not matter. He'd found what he needed.

 

[Ruvsá]

Ruvsá slipped into sleep far easier than Kol did, despite the strange whispers that lurked at the edges of her thoughts as her mind slowed. But her weariness was such that even though the whispers were bothersome, they barely grazed her consciousness.

The strength of the Nordenfiir was such that they could go days--sometimes weeks--without sleep, if necessary. But Ruvsá didn't want to begin to test the limits of that right before battle, and while she'd only been without sleep for the three days journey on the sea. To sleep now, as long as she could, was best.

She only roused when Kol did, the sounding horn barely a whisper in her ear.

Ruvsá groaned and lifted an arm to cover her eyes.

"Meat first. Then battle," she muttered.

 

[Kol]

Kol pulled himself half-way up from the cot, hand immediately folding over where the wound had been in his side just hours before.

As the pads of his index and middle finger passed over his flesh he found no scar, no burn mark, nothing at all. A slight smile touched his lips, fingers trailing for a moment more. He glanced down at Ruvsa, that odd flicker of blue rushing over his eyes.

"Meat, huh?" He mused. "Well better get up fast the-"

Just as he was about to finish speaking Estrid burst through the door of the cabin.

"Kol. The fool has gone."​

The Sorcerer rubbed at his face, features falling into a scowl as he looked down at Ruvsa and simply shook his head in disgust. "What did he do?"

"He's taken one of the ships, laden with oil. He intends to sail it into the oncoming fleet."​