Private Tales To war, we must idle

[Eislyn Gray]

She could feel a thin layer of icy snow forming at the hem of her thick skirts, where they dragged in the snow. The fabric was stiffening. Head titled as she thought she heard a howl on the wind. Hard to say if it was just the air rushing through the canyon and evergreens above.

“He’s very loyal,” she paused and looked up at the right time. Lunging to the side, her gloved hands would reach out for Ere’s arm as he slipped and slid. Fingers trying to grasp his cloak to tug him back up.

Only thing was, her own boots weren’t finding traction in the snow and she found herself tripping forward, after him. One hand abandoned her reach for him and changed direction, trying to grasp at a snow-covered branch.

 

[Neremyn Virvyre]

The slip was intentional, having intended to slide gracefully into the ravine and come to a stop somewhere around center. The plan was for this to go fairly effortlessly and without any noticeable injury. But plans often didn't go as he expected, which was his preference in most things.

A tornado turns when we least expect it...

The tug on his arm and cloak only served to yank his torso back as he legs continued down the hill. Once his center of balance was gone, he was all legs as he smacked the ground and slid down the ravine. He came to a stop to the muffled sounds of water, running through the snow beneath him.

He made no effort to get up, instead taking on the statuesque position of a snow angel in mid flight. "This is the second time I've been on my ass in the snow this night. I'm starting to think this is where I belong."

 

[Eislyn Gray]

Eislyn did not realize the slip was intentional.

Hers certainly was not.

Gloved hand missed the snow covered branch and as he left her grasp, she found her own figure tipping over that bank, feet losing purchase. A surprised yelp left her rosy lips as her hands instinctively pushed forward, ready to catch herself on the snowy-ice.

Only, she wasn't sure if she'd hit the snow next to Ere or land right on top of him.

Oh bother.

 

[Neremyn Virvyre]

A little bit of column A and and a little bit of column B. She hadn't landed entirely on Ere, but she had landed somewhere on top of his outstretched arm. Somewhere between the elbow and the shoulder.

Ere let out a sigh as he looked up towards broken sky, obscured by the needles of various evergreens and the occasional leafless maple.

"Is loyalty all that it takes to get a commitment like this?" Maybe he was fishing. Or maybe he was just trying to make small talk in an otherwise awkward position. But what he did know was that his hands were cold. Far too cold to notice that a moon thistle was cradled between his fingers, not a foot away from Eislyns head.

 

[Eislyn Gray]

She didn't think landing partially on an elven man was more comfortable than landing in the snow. This kind of closeness was highly inappropriate for a solo-traveling lady. Especially a princess. Cheeks warmed considerably as she pushed herself free from him and then managed to wobble her way back to her feet. Gloved hands brushing off the layer of powder collecting on her cloak and skirts.

Tips of golden hair were already frosted white.

And there was something that sung in her blood at the closeness with this stranger. Something from the magic of her gift. And that scared her the most.

"He has served my...," she paused, partially caught on the line he'd thrown. Eyes snapped to his fingers. "Moon thistle!" Taking a knee next to him, she went to pluck it from his hands.

"Perhaps he will have you to thank more than me," she murmured, noticing the man did not have gloves on.

 

[Neremyn Virvyre]

He hardly felt the sharp hairs of the thistle poke and prod their way away from his grip as she plucked it free. Whether it hurt and he was playing tough or if he seemed to not notice, it was difficult to tell. His verdant gaze had moved beyond Eislyn as he slowly lifted himself from the snow.

Coming to a stand, he patted himself free of snow as the horses neighed in the distance. Looking around, he lifted his nose to the sky and his nostrils flared. There was hardly an ounce of moisture in the air, given the flurries of snow and wind, but they must have been downwind of a pack. He could almost feel their eyes now, warming him in the unfortunate and resilient since of familiarity.

"It's too bad that Rufian and Ullr left their blinders back in the stables..." He said quietly, watching his breath as he breathed out. "How are you in a fight, Eislyn?" They were fortunate that the snow littered the forest floor. Without it, the ambient lighting would be poor. But with the white reflection of the frost and snow, it was easy to see the first wolf peak out from the shadows edge. Ere didn't even need to partially change.

"Don't run. They'll want you to run. To separate from me. Just stay calm and stay close."

 

[Eislyn Gray]

The princess tucked the thistle into a pouch on her belt. The horses. Good in a fight?

Head lifted, confusion on her face.

It wasn’t the wolves she noticed first, it was the look on Ere’s face that sent a shiver down her spine. Head panned wildly as more of the creatures stepped silently from the woods. Low growls of hunger finally made it to her ears above the winds.

“I’m horrible in a fight,” she admitted but drew herself up, shoulders squaring. “I prefer negotiating. But somehow I don't think that would work in this situation.”

She took a step back, a breath away from the taller elf’s side. Luckily for Ere, Eislyn was not the type of woman to faint or panic. She was thrust into the middle of wars often. Put up against selfish Kings and warlords. Thrust into the middle of bloodshed.

In fact, it might seem odd to Ere at how very calm she was. Still scared. But a master of her emotions.

Kneeling down, her gloves hands wrapped around a sturdy looking fallen branch.

 

[Neremyn Virvyre]

He hadn't expected her to be all that well suited for a fight. But he also hadn't expected her to be so honest about the fact either. "As I tell my students, sometimes thinking can get you into trouble..." He said as he held his hand back, palm down, hinting at her need to not brandish that branch.

"I prefer negotiating as well...a family trait, I imagine."

Chaos had a way of working itself out. The ebb and tide of energy meant that in the cold, warm things sought each other out. But entropy demanded separation quickly follow.

Verdant gaze moved outward as Ere took one step forward, cradling his hand in hand. Wringing them in a feign of nervousness, several wolves approached. They snarled and scraped at the ground, shuffling sand and snow about.

"I'm not interested..." One of the wolves barked low and shook its head. "I already have one. I can't join another." Ere responded, looking over his shoulder at Eislyn. A set a wolves circled around, some heading towards the horses. "But if you hurt her or the horses, you will have to consider me cornered." One of the wolves stepped back a pace while the other two remained.

 

[Eislyn Gray]

"Oh," she continued the polite dialogue as if they weren't in mortal danger. Though her own circlets of verdant remained alert, keeping her back to the river and not straying to far from the elf. She did not brandish the branch but nor did she let it go.

"You come from a line of negotiators? Father or mother's side?"

Eislyn's gaze traveled away from Ere and up the dark hill as she heard their horses whiny. She wondered if the animals could smell the wolves now or sense the danger on the wind. Fingers shifted slightly on the branch.

"And I'm in the presence of a teacher?" Golden brows arched up on a tired and cold face, beneath her hood. "How refreshing."

 

[Neremyn Virvyre]

He wasn't sure he had an answer to that first question. The Virvyre were Lythari for as far back as he knew. And while they were all drawn to the dynamic characteristics of nature, the disdain for violence was evident through out. Many would even go as far as to call themselves pacifists.

Her second answer was a philosophical one by all accounts. Because a teacher was only a teacher if they were teaching. And by all accounts, it didn't seem he could even get this one to pay attention.

Drawing a finger to his lips as he looked over his shoulder, he didn't outright shush her. But he walked right up to that edge and threatened to jump off. Now wasn't the time for this sort of conversation.

A howl resonated across the snow as the forward most wolf let loose a strong presence, lifting his muzzle towards the sky and singing a somber tone. Ere shook his head and looked back.

"A lycanthrope leads you? You know very well that we don't mix." The howling wolf snarled. The druid didn't move, instead flinging his hand forward. "NO!" It was half yell, half bark. "Go back to your leader and tell him I won't play. No Virvyre would."

That seemed to do the trick as the wolves stepped back, slowly receding back into the shadows. Even those near the horses left the beasts untouched. Those some hesitated more than the others.

 

[Eislyn Gray]

Eislyn's gaze narrowed on the man as he all but shhhh'ssss'd her. But she offered no more questions or comments. She couldn't help but stare in wonder at the exchange. Hannah would've loved to see this, even with the danger. Straight from the stories.

Fingers loosened around the stick and she finally relented, having it fall quietly back into the fresh powder. Her blood was warmed by the surge of adrenaline from the experience. But she knew it wouldn't last. she couldn't help flinching herself at the power behind his voice. The steely firmness.

And lycanthrope?

That didn't bode well for the neighboring village they were staying in. Did the lyconthrope have its own tribe or had he or she been recruited for the war on the duke's side? Lips curved further into a frown.

"Will they be back?" She whispered, letting her eyes do another quick dart of the woods around them.

 

[Neremyn Virvyre]

"Most assuredly..." He stated somberly as he walked passed her. "We need to go, now. They won't come after us if we are in the walls of the Spur." He stopped midstride and looked towards her hand. "Is that enough thistle for your friend? I can not stress how important it is that we do not come back out here after we return."

At least, not until the sun came up. It was now a matter of insult for the lycanthrope and his pack. The fact of the matter was that his and their kind, evil and neutral, never worked well together.

"If it is, we should be on our way."

 

[Eislyn Gray]

Eislyn nodded in the cold dark night.

It was enough.

Picking up her long skirts, she began the arduous walk through drifts and hills back to their horses. Ruffian was pawing at the ground when he saw his master return. Ears flat as if to say ‘what took you so log?’

She ran a soothing glove over his nose and whispered something in his ear before pulling herself into the saddle.

He was promised more apples on their return. And a full brush down. There was a howl in the night. Eislyn looked to Ere.

It was time to go.

“Can you ride fast?”

If he nodded, which, she assumed he would, she would urge Ruffian forward, up that ravine and back to the road.

 

[Neremyn Virvyre]

He had mounted Ullr by the time she had asked the question. With a kick of his heels, he replied with something urgent - like a whispered bark.

"Are elves ears pointy?" He returned, far and away from just a nod. Ullr neighed and kicked its front legs before taking off in a dash. It only took moments of them clearing the woods, removed from the ravine, for the hill of the Spur to become clear to them. Even in the blizzard raging around them, the fire lights along the wall cut through the haze like sharp daggers.

Setting the beast to a strong gallop, he looked over his shoulder as he spied a wolf moving out from the forest. Then another, and another, followed by something much larger and far more wild. It let out a howl that sent shivers down his spine and put his hackles on edge. "Eislyn..." He yelled as he cut up the path towards the hold.

"Go faster! They're chasing us." He flicked the reins hard and set Ullr to purpose, though he weighed his options against the pursuit. If they couldn't close off the stables and alert the guards, they might have an ambitious lycanthrope set against the Spur. If they could mobilize archers, that might be enough. But it was likely that most were asleep or falling asleep at guard.

 

[Eislyn Gray]

"I don't want to offend you!" The princess yelled back but felt as if her voice was immediately snatched by the wind as she urged Ruffian onward. Warm puffs of breath left his snout as he picked up his pace. She leaned forward in the saddle, trying to help with the speed.

Why chase us as we're leaving their territory, she wondered.

The lights were up ahead and if she squinted, she could just make out the barn doors with a warm light glowing inside. City gates were coming up a lot sooner. Wind whipped the cowl of her cloak away from her face and back over her shoulders. Half-frozen blonde hair spread out behind her wildly.

One of the faster wolves made a leap for one of the front of Ruffian's legs from the side, appearing like an avenging wraith from the darkness. Her horse bucked and raised up on two hind legs. Eislyn's hands slipped on the reigns and she found herself falling into the snowy road.

 

[Neremyn Virvyre]

There were precious few constants when it came to magic. A mage could bestow upon the dead the gift of rebirth. A necromancer could form entire armies with but a few incantations, swelling a cemetery like an underground flood. A warlock could harness the power of the sun and flings firebolts from their stave. But with all forms of magic, big or small, a payment was required. Divine, corporeal, natural, it didn't matter. All that mattered was an exchange.

And while the druidic magic arts were hardly considered the most potent or powerful magic, it came without saying that the payment reservoir for which they tapped was more vast and deep than any other magical pool. Because even on a cloudy day, or the darkest of nights, there was energy forever around them.

"Aen gynvael an spar te aine..." He whispered as he drew his hands inward, placing his palm over his heart. There was no moonlight to draw from but the snow had captured quite enough to mount some sort of defense. The draw of the energy came in a small rush as he encapsulated a small orb of light between cradled fingers. The packed snow groaned beneath the hooves of the horses as it crushed and compacted. The cracks spit up steam before closing entirely as the snow drew in, glossing over into thick sheets of ice in the horses wake.

Those wolves that had not made it to the duo in time were suddenly running in place, like on greased marble floors. Without a means of traction, they began slipping back towards the ravine and forest line. Ere pressed off the saddle and landed in the snow, moving into a full sprint that seemed inhumanely fast. Coming to a slide, his hand jumped out from his side and flung a harsh beam of moonlight towards the attacking wolf. The energy smacked hard against the beast, compressing fur and sending the creature bouncing down the hill and sliding on all fours across the ice. Ullr had come to a stop but Ruffian was still moving, out of fear.

"Cáelm te saov..." He yelled to Ruffian, who immediately turned and trotted back towards the fallen Eislyn. Ere ran towards the woman and knelt, the energy stowed internally for the moment. "They should have some difficulty coming back up that hill. But you should get up, you could catch a cold."

 

[Eislyn Gray]

The young woman couldn't help the wide-eyes at his magic. It was beautiful and terrifying all at once. And it saved her life. She stared up at him, his words breaking her daze like an ice pick. Head shook and she pulled herself up. Hands brushed the icy-snow from her rump as Ruffian trotted back over.

"Are you showing off now?"

A bemused expression to the elf man as she saddled the horse.

"We have to alert the town," she offered him a gloved hand so he could swing up behind her. Ruffian was a large horse and could easily accommodate two. She had no doubt his borrowed horse would be ahead of them toward the stables.

 

[Neremyn Virvyre]

Heat escaped his chapped lips like steam as he exhaled into the cold. Trees along the forest line dipped back and stood erect as the wind died down. The howling of the wind turned into a slight whisper, comparatively, is it weakly persuaded the snow drifts down along the access road.

"That's an odd way to say thank you…" He replied with a dry smile. Ullr had run off but was not entirely out of sight. The steed was traipsing about and flinging his coarse mane back and forth, giving some sense of truth to his namesake. Fresh snow danced about as he trotted, like he was being led by some invisible trainer through a manicured castle obstacle course.

Taking her hand, he hopped into the saddle and looked for a place to put his hands. "The Ice should last for some time." He yelled over a sudden gust of wind. Just as he died once more, he found himself yelling again. "But you are right. We should warn them."

 

[Eislyn Gray]

"Hang on," she offered him permission as she urged Ruffian forward. "That's some magic," her voice easily carried back to him, the wind helping in this case. As Ruffian launched the forwards, she passed inside the town's inner gate. It was a short and straight shot from there to the lit-stables.

"I wonder if the lyconthrop is on the side of the Duke in this war. Or if this is beast of its own chaos?" Ruffian slowed as they got closer. With one final trot, they stepped into the slightly warmer barn.

 

[Neremyn Virvyre]

He wrapped his hands around her waist and clasped them, hunching and resting his forearms against the top of her thighs. For him and his ilk, there was a sort of comfort found in gaining warmth from one another in the cold of winter. But he understood that such things could be taken for the wrong impression by others who were not so accustomed.

He didn't respond to the comment regarding his magic. His emerald eyes were focused on the tops of the outer hold, top lined by ornamental parapets against otherwise rough-hewn stone walls of flint and sandstone. Torches glowed warmly against the outer walls as strange shadows danced beneath the shortened balustrades. But for all his looking, he could not spy a single guardsmen that was on patrol.

It was as he feared. A shabby defense, at best. A thing either propelled by the stretching of resources or the lax discipline of the local guard captain. The former would have been understandable but the latter spoke to inclement concern.

As they entered into the straw floored stable, Ere quickly dismounted and patted his tunic and cloak off. Lifting a hand clearly adorned with sharpened nails, he quietly offered her assistance down. "I suspect not, Ms. Eislyn...It would surprise me if this lycan were part of anything associated with the geopolitical upheavals around the Spur. I have never known lycans to care for such things. They are simply tools to their own hunger and curses."

 

[Eislyn Gray]

"Thank you," she said quietly, gloved hand fitting well within his own. Boots landed on the straw floor and she quickly went about the task of unsaddling Ruffian and brushing him down. Her hair glistened in the warm candlelight as the ice and snow began to melt from the golden strands, pooling down on top of her cloak.

The horse whinnied and gently nudged his head against her shoulder.

She found that apple and offered it to him.

She turned to Ere. "I must get this to my friend." Hand patted the belt pocket where the thistle was tucked away. After all, his life was still teetering on the edge. "Shall we regroup in about fifteen minutes?" Maybe he could find someone in the town to warn, who would actually listen to him.

 

[Neremyn Virvyre]

"I must admit a bit of curiosity on what sickness could be remedied by this thistle..." Hand gestured towards the pocket. The pointing finger curled into an open hand as he rubbed his beard. "But you're probably right. My time would be better served elsewhere." Nodding as he passed her, he tightened the travelers cloak over his rough tunic and various pieces of motley armor.

"Fifteen minutes, then." He acquiesced as he exited the stable, leaving a small path of straw across the compacted snow. As he moved towards the interior of the ramparts lining the perimeter of the Spur, he heard Ullr neigh and trot at the distance, finding his way back into the stable.

"Excuse me..." He stated as he approached a guard, leaning heavily against a column of stacked stone. The man was short, wearing a mixture of chainmail and plated armor. A sword hung from his hip in a leather skinned scabbard with a bronze arrow at the tip. The enameled hilt seemed to indicate a fine craft but the lack of ornament on the pommel suggested a lower income or perhaps a weapon given during enlistment.

The guard shook and lifted himself up, yawning behind the tin helmet with a nose crossguard. The man flipped the crossguard up on the hinge and winced. "What the ferk you want, elf?" His pauldrons were noticeably rusted as he dragged the torch from the defensive wall and brandished it towards Ere. "Well? Speak 'fore I wallop yous for inruptem my sleep!"

The elf lifted his hands in a gesture of arrest. "I just wanted to inform you that there is a pack of wolves down on the ravine. Likely to head this way."
"So?" The man spat. "Pack of ferkin' wolves and you come over 'er actin' like its some sor' of artillery? They gon' to flank us, timba mole? Be a war of attrition 'eh?"

Ere cursed under his lips. This was a grouchy guard. "No..." Ere stated as he dropped his hands. "But they're led by a werewolf. A big one."

 

[Eislyn Gray]

The princess made haste back to the inn. With a flurry of cloak and skirts, she mounted the steps and made its back to her men’s quarters. Edmund looked at her, quickly deducting what she pulled.

“Princess. You should not have...”

“No time for pleasantries Edmund. Take this thistle and grind it up. Put the paste on Geoffrey’s wounds.”

“Yes lady. If your father found out...”

“He won’t,” the young woman said sternly. Edmund did as she commanded. Geoffrey whimpered as the paste was applied to the wound around his abdomen. Eislyn turned to go.

“M’lady, where-“

“Prepare for battle. Wolves and a werewolf are coming.”

Edmund sputtered. “With the duke?”

“I don’t believe so.” Eislyn disappeared out the door.

 

[Neremyn Virvyre]

"Who gives two 'shite about a werewolf?" The man dropped the torch, resting his forearm between his belt and the hilt of his word. "A big one at 'at. Don't matter the size, does it? When they don't exist!"

Ere wasn't getting anywhere with this particularly special case of lazy. And the disbelief was surprising. He wasn't aware that there was still the existence of such traditional mind sets. Then he heard heavy footsteps.

Behind the lazy guard, a wooden set of stairs led upwards along the height of the wall. Taking a hard turn towards the ramparts, the stairs teed into a walkway that stood behind the parapet and ran the length of the wall. To one side, it dead ended at a lookout station just above the entrance of the gate. To the other end, it ran directly into a tower that stood at the corner of the wall. Ere assumed the tower had another level towards the peak where an archer could be stationed and shoot with fairly pertinent protections.

Down the stairs, a broad man moved with singular purpose in a suit of freshly oiled and gleaming armor. The insignia across his breastplate was that of the Spur, trimmed in gold. The besegrew plates, hanging from raw leather at the armpits, showed a similar insignia painted in red and white. Every step the man took downward was grating, metal on metal.

"I care about werewolves. Particularly the one down in the Creepers Stretch."
"Creepers stretch?" Ere looked up towards the man as he finally descended in full. The guard brandished the torch again.
"Shut it, ferkin' elf! They don't teach respec' back in the woods?"
"Silence Esquire. Take the reach and patrol, wake up the remainder of the guard in the Nook and watch the entry from the hill."
"But..." The man protested.
"Now." The commander stated firmly. The guard looked over his shoulder, glaring at the elf, as he made his way up the stairs.

"Creepers Stretch is the name of that ravine. Named for the climbing vines during the summer months."
"Makes sense." Ere replied.
"Walk with me, stranger. Tell me about this lycan. More importantly, tell me how you know of it. I will be forward with you as such is my chivalric vow. This beast has plagued our lands for some time. But we have not had time to deal with him as the tidings of war have called our attention. The Esquire is too new and too starry eyed to know of this unfortunate truth."

 

[Eislyn Gray]

Eislyn was back in the cold. Glancing up, she saw more movement along the walls around the city. Sleepy watchmen were up and moving about.

Well done, Ere.

The young woman gathered her skirts in her hands and strode toward the back set of gates. There was a young soldier with crooked teeth openly snoring. The toe of her boot kicked at his heel.

“Wake up.”

He muttered in his sleep and slowly opened his eyes. “What you doing here? Ain’t safe for ladies alone in the dark.”

“There is a battle coming. Wolves and a werewolf. I’d suggest you get this side of the wall ready.”

“Oy. Who do you even think ye are? Little miss skirts. Going bout giving orders.”

Eislyn flicked the cowl of her cloak off, this time a thin band of gold fastened across her forehead. “Princess Eislyn Gray. Show me to your commanding officer.”

The kid gawked at her then stumbled to his feet. “Yes ma’am. Yes. Right away.” Straightening his armor and wiping the drool off the side of his face, he began mounting the steps. “I mean your ladyship. Erm. I mean princess.”

Eislyn followed, trying not to roll her eyes.