Fable - Ask War is the Father of All Things

[Alistair Krixus]

The climbing was like the worst version of the climbing classes at the Academy. He remembered, when he was younger, the proctors saying that climbing would one day save his life. That really was not a joke.

Alistair had already made up his mind to protect Kristen on the climb. He wasn't wearing heavy armor like her, so swimming would be a bit more manageable.

Thankfully, they had much bigger and more muscular friends now that could do that for Alistair. The falling rock had scared the shit out of him, but Skarde catching the thing was as impressive as the rock was originally scary.

Alistair could not imagine a much better feeling than when they finally crested the edge of the cliff. He did his best to ignore the challenges or encouragement from the nords, they would only serve to ignore him.

It was not long after he got his feet back under him that he heard a piece of his name, but that was interrupted by an orc attacking. It was a contest of strength vs. speed. Thankfully, his speed one, with the help of a timely spell.

None of that mattered, because when he looked back, Kristen was falling back off the cliff. They had just gotten up here. Alistair cursed under his breath, as he left the other orcs to the nords and Maraad.

"You have to be fucking kidding, Kris."

He mumbled to himself as he took a running start and jumped after his fellow dreadlord. The heavy armor would make it difficult to swim, so he needed to just get a hand on it and then use a spell to lighten the armor or increase Kristen's strength.

Kristen Pirian

 

[Kristen Pirian]

Kristen's grasping hand found the hilt of her sword.

And it was then, as if conjured by the act of touching the grip of her weapon, another splash and rush of bubbles and foam. Alistair. His hand sliced through the frigid water and touched her pauldron, and the burden of her armor's weight vanished.

Kristen didn't waste any time. Great folly, if she had! The fiery demands in her chest for air were growing painful, and instinctual desperation would be her doom if she stayed underwater for much longer. Up she swam, the task eminently doable now with the relief of Alistair's timely aid.

Kristen's head burst out from the surface of the sea and she inhaled deeply of the night's air. A small wave of seawater crashed into the back of her head, throwing her back under for a second, but she swam the short distance to the hillside's edge where the waves of the sea continuously broke and reached and clawed her way up just enough to be free of the water's undulating whims.

She clung to the hill, laying flat against its steep slope. She was shivering terribly now. Blessed Aionus, she'd never felt more cold in the entirety of her life! Even the fire of physical exertion and adrenaline couldn't overcome it.

Lips quivering, she looked over toward Alistair and tried for a humble smile amidst the trembling. She spoke of her lackluster showing against the orc, "P-Perhaps...I n-n-need...to b-be...m-more strat-t-tegic...next t-time."

Direct combat, sword against axe as it were, was not so advisable at her level of expertise and training, was it?

Alistair Krixus

 

[Alistair Krixus]

Falling through the air from such a height was instinctively scary. The drop in his stomach told him not to do this, but he had acted before the rest of his mind could catch up. Instead of the sudden stop of solid ground to meet him at the end of this journey, it was the piercing cold of the northern oceans.

It was enough to knock all the air out of his lungs, but thankfully Alistair's flailing also brought him in contact with Kristen, and he let loose the spell.

His world was upside down for a moment as Alistair battled with the currents to right himself and then make his way over the cliff.

When he finally broke the surface and gasped for air, the previously cold and miserable dreadlord had only gotten worse.

His soaked black hair now stuck to his forehead and made it difficult to see. A chill had crept all the way to his bones with no signs of leaving. He failed to stop his teeth from chattering as he looked to Kristen with partially wild eyes.

"J-j-j-ust do-on't g-g-get thrown off a f-f-f-fucking c-cliff."

Kristen Pirian

 

[Kristen Pirian]

"I c-could have at least b-brought the orc d-down with m-m-me...haha..." Kristen said.

Humor could only deflect the truth of the matter so much. She had been making good strides, accelerating along in her training to a level of competency faster than in her dreadful first year, but she also had best keep of an awareness of what her capabilities truly were at present. No mean warrior was she just yet.

Kristen started to climb again, her quivering arms sluggish but steady enough in the effort.

"Where's...some handy f-f-fire magic...when you n-need it?"

Thoroughly miserable with dampness and cold, nevertheless they both had to strive to make it back to the top of the hill. It was up there that the Nordenfiir were gathering, the resistance here by the Blights all but finished.

Alistair Krixus

 

[Alistair Krixus]

Alistair let out a small chuckle as he followed Kristen up the cliff. She was right about one thing, at least. Fire magic would be really handy right about now. He had plenty of clothes that had runes built in for that very purpose, but he never wore any of them into a battlefield.

He was almost cold enough to start rethinking that decision. Thankfully, so much of his body was numb from the cold that the physical excursion of climbing up a cliff almost felt nice.

"When we get up there. Keep your senses. Let the nords go berserk all they want, but we can not, not yet."

There was a time and a place to get lost in the blood rush of the battle. Theirs would only be after they found those that Kristen was here looking for.

Kristen Pirian

 

[Kristen Pirian]

"Anirians! HA, HA!" shouted Jarl Yngvir, far above and bending over the rolling crest of the hill. "Come, come, come! You're missing all the fun!"

Well. What better punctuation for Alistair's words than that? The fight here at the Blightlands' broken shore was swiftly reaching its conclusion, but there would be plenty of battle yet at Godendrung. Proctor Magomo's assignment notwithstanding, Kristen and Alistair weren't here for that. Their primary mission was Mina and Jiya. So, if the Norden wanted to go wild against the orcs for the promise of loot, then let them.

"I will," Kristen said through the chattering of her teeth.

And through the miseries of the cold's grasp, the dampness, the sore aches of her body from having fallen so roughly, she climbed.

They climbed.

At the top of the hill, the Nords were all gathering. Far in the distance, scattered small figures fleeing into the spotty darkness of the night. Farther still, the lights of fires. The fires of watchtowers. Godendrung.

Jarl Yngvir spread his arms wide, as if he were a jolly old friend ready to embrace them both. "Not many Summerlanders get to witness the fury of we Nordenfiir!" He dropped a big hand down on Alistair's shoulder, then swept his other toward those distant orange lights. "And there! Do you see it, Anirians? Our prize, fat like a pig, waiting for us!"

Alistair Krixus

 

[Brenna]

Brenna crouched and scooped up a handful of snow to wash the blood from her face. A bath in the hot springs would have been much more preferred but Nords coped with what they had; they had to in order to live in such harsh environments. Others were sharing stories of particularly good fights and a few were muttering prayers to the Gods for delivering them once more. Bre sent her own prayer of thanks to the Pale King. He might have been protector of Hunters and not War, but he was a God whose magic touched her and her home. She hoped his protection would follow her here so his cadet might return to protect his sanctuary once more.

Standing she put away her axe and cast her eyes around for the grumpy man who had accompanied her then pursed her lips when she could not spot him. No doubt he was off trying to scrounge some token of the battle from the bodies and she had no taste for such things. Something more interesting caught her attention anyway.

Picking her way through the crowds she came to a stop by the Jarl and shook her head at the last of his words.

They won't make it there if you don't clothe them properly, look at her. Brenna swept her hand towards Kristen after the complicated hand movements. The Jarl's bushy brows pulled together as he finally seemed to notice the girls shivering and threw back his head and laughed again.

"I always forget how weak their hides are! Young Brenna here will find you something so you don't freeze your arses off before we get there, eh?" he grinned.

 

[Kristen Pirian]

Kristen glanced over at the Norden who spoke on behalf of hers and Alistair's shivering states. The Jarl, thankfully, conceded to Brenna's remark, for now in the stillness of having reached the top of the shore hill, with all of the excitement of battle having presently died down, the acute frigidity of Kristen's woeful state hit her hard, as if the explicit mention of it brought it back around with twice the biting cold.

The Jarl turned from them and waved his axe in the air in a sweeping motion and proclaimed, "Tend to your wounds! Give offerings and beseech blessings! Make ready, for soon we will move! Ah ha!"

Kristen shivered all over. All, save, of course, for her right hand, which was unnaturally steady. She looked to Brenna with eyes filled with gratitude.

"Th-thank you...Brenna, was it? My name is Kristen. What a...m-momentous occasion upon which to meet."

She tried for a laugh, but it was lost somewhere in the chattering of her teeth.

Alistair Krixus Brenna

 

[Alistair Krixus]

Alistair followed Kristen back up the cliff with determination. Thankfully, it was the burning and pain coming from his muscles that helped him ignore the weather and the chill digging into his bones.

He was happy to see that the first stages of the battle were wrapping up here. The speed at which this was all handled indicated that their quick attack had worked. They should not wait too long, but the warriors did deserve a moment. His eyes trailed over the battlefield as he tried to take in and analyze what had been a speedy fight.

There was just one problem...

It was fucking coooollldddd.

He first noticed his teeth chattering, but then his entire body was shivering. Al had left his own cloak in the water after it had become soaked. Almost instinctively he went to tell Brenna that he was fine, but the cold was grabbing hold of him and made it difficult to talk.

It was that hesitation that gave him enough time to spit out.

"Thank you."

He muttered a few words under his breath and small flames danced across his hands. It wasn't much, but he was hoping it provided some feeling back into his fingers.

Kristen Pirian Brenna

 

[Brenna]

Brenna gave a bemused, lopsided smile to the pair shivering in their boots whilst reading their lips. It made it a little more challenging what with their teeth chattering but she caught the general gist of thanks and inclined her head politely in the direction of the sledges being pulled up and over the hill.

Each small skirmish was another checkpoint and once the defensive lines had been redrawn the goods tended to swiftly pour in. Mead, meat, tents and skins. Nordenfiir had a ferocious appetite and it was not wise to leave them on half a belly when you wanted them to fight. Already a few of her fellows had ambled over to help themselves, or carry things back to fires that were being prepared. Now they had a foothold on the land they would use this as a base until the next line had been properly secured.

Brenna had to go on her tip toes to look inside the wagon for what it was she was after. The Nordenfiir felt little cold and most came well equipped for the savage landscape anyway, so there was little in the way of extras. However there was always the chance a coat might be ruined in the heat of battle and so she found a small bag of extra. Lined with thick layers of arctic fox she handed them over to the pair when she found ones that might fit if awkwardly; neither were the bulky size of most Nordenfiir.

Her hands raised briefly to begin to sign and then paused. Even if they did speak some form of signing they might not know the unique language of her people.

"You wish for food?" she asked, each word carefully spoken as she tried to recall not only Common but how the sounds had once felt for such words.

 

[Kristen Pirian]

The Nordenfiir were incredibly efficient at what they did. With the foothold atop the ragged shore hill secured, their defensive encampment was hastily raised, providing a bulwark to protect their boats from any unforeseen opportunistic attempt by the Blights to destroy them. As hastily as they were raised, so too, Kristen imagined, they would be taken back down once the lightning raid on Godendrung was done.

The Jarl had made it quite clear to herself and Alistair that they had best be there when the boats set sail again. They wouldn't wait for them. The Jarl had told them this in his relentlessly jovial tone which Kristen found to be a touch off-putting given the subject.

Regardless.

Kristen huddled close to Alistair as he summoned small warming flames between his palms, this until proper fires were lit by the Nordens who were going to man the defensive encampment. They didn't much mind the 'Summerlanders' coming close and warming themselves by their fires; likely, in their own tongue as they spoke, they were having a laugh about having their preconceptions confirmed, if their smiles and grins and glances were any evidence. Well, fair enough. Kristen cared for naught in that moment but the absolute relief of the embrace of the roaring campfire, the feel of the seawater slowly evaporating from the parts of her she presented to the flame's writhing glow.

Brenna returned. With far better cloaks in hand than the ones issued by the Anirian logistician providing for this mission!

"Oh, yes, we would be most grateful," Kristen said, feeling it to be not at all intrusive to speak on Alistair's behalf in this instance. The voyage had been long enough, and there was marching and battle ahead of them yet.

And, in the back of her mind, Proctor Magomo's assignment began to weigh upon her.

Alistair Krixus Brenna

 

[Alistair Krixus]

It was actually for the best that Kristen spoke for Alistair at this moment because after he lit the flames in his hands, he had grown rather silent.

He could see the smirks and hear the jeering that some of the Nordenfir pointed at them. He did not understand most of it, but that did not matter. Alistair's eyes shot about the encampment settling on specific areas before flickering away to another. To those that did not know him, it would look like the fearful and confused looks of someone out of their comfort zone. However, anyone that knew Alistair knew what he was doing. Alistair was learning, trying to take in every bit of information he could.

They were their allies now, but Alistair would know all he could about these northerners if they ever proved to be their enemies. In this break between battles, was the best time for such learning.

He only broke from his study long enough to accept the cloak graciously and sling it across his shoulders.

"Thank you."

 

[Brenna]

Brenna's head tilted to the side as she considered the woman who spoke.

Did she too, have magic like the man beside her? It was an effort not to spit and make the sign of the Gods to ward off the evil he brought into their midst by conjuring fire, but she thought it might appear rude. The Summerlanders had strange traditions and beliefs but it was important to show tolerance when they were to be allies. Still, it was hard to think the woman who was so polite would be capable of something so... wrong.

Shrugging, she shook the thoughts from her mind and led her two new charges over to one of the less populated fires. The two gruff men bent over a pot glanced up. Their faces were warm and welcoming for Brenna but they shuttered when they noticed who accompanied her.

Would you share your meal brothers? she signed. One man with a curved scar on his temple watched the flow of her hands then sighed and glanced to those behind. He took a while to deliberate then nodded.

"Suppose we're on the same side today," he muttered and motioned for the group to grab a bowl.

 

[Kristen Pirian]

Kristen couldn't help but notice then, after following Brenna over to a small collection of her fellow Nordenfiir, that they as well had a sign language, much like the Dreadlords. It was something which she would have thought very little of ("My, how quaint!" she could hear herself saying) or not noticed at all prior to her enrollment in the Academy. The knowledge of her eye growing keener was both heartening and a little frightening.

The Darling Daughter of House Pirian would return to her House...changed.

She did not know what precisely Brenna asked of her fellows, but the outcome was clear enough. At Brenna's prompting Kristen smiled, nodded politely, and took one of the bowls. The warmth of the bowl's bottom was absolutely divine against the numbed tips of the fingers of her left hand. Mother would have raised quite the commotion about the lack of etiquette, but, seeing as the other Nordens were partaking of the food with their bare hands, Kristen did the same. Scarcely did she even notice what constituted Nordenfiir battlefield cuisine—all she knew was that the food itself was warm and her stomach was pleased.

Curious, she asked a question of their de facto hostess. "Brenna, do you join in these sorts of raids often?"

Alistair Krixus Brenna

 

[Alistair Krixus]

Alistair remained silent as they walked on, but when they finally arrived at the fire. He could not help but step forward. The warmth from the flames slowly sank into the rest of his body. His focus was on the two men at the fire. It was clear that neither of the men were happy they were here, but the woman they were with was enough to make up for it.

He simply nodded in thanks to both of them before taking his seat. Funnily enough, Alistair did not reach for any food. He preferred to simply enjoy the warmth of the fire. Alistair had always struggled to eat during battles. His appetite tended to shut off.

It was not that he was nauseous from the fighting, but subconsciously food was a reward for the end of a day of battle, not in the middle of the day. He would eat when they had accomplished what they had come to do.

"All nordernfiir participate in battle from a young age. They are like us in that regard...At least, from what I have read."

He added the last part apologetically to Brenna in case what he had said proved to be wrong.

Kristen Pirian

 

[Brenna]

Brenna was half way to opening her mouth when the man stepped in with his own comment. It made both of her brows climb in to the hairline. As far as she could tell he wasn't a Nordenfiir, so what gave him the right to speak on their behalf like some... some animal he had read about in a book. There was a snort from behind her from one of the men around their little fire and the other spat.

"Didn't know there were such comprehensive books on us, eh Gorm?" Brenna didn't need to hear to feel the tension in the man at her back and she turned to pat his knee. "I ain't sitting here to listen to my own histories, not sober at least," he muttered then got to his feet. "Come on Frodd," the two men lurched off towards another fire where shouts went up in welcome. Bre watched them go with a slight twist of her lips.

"I'm... sorry. My people, they do not like... outsiders," she said slowly then took a sip of her warm soup. "Your friend is correct but this is my first. My family... they worry." She motioned to her ears with a slight smile.

 

[Kristen Pirian]

Kristen glanced Alistair's way when he spoke. Oh. Quite confident was he of this; certainly he was more well-read on the subject than she. A similarity, to be sure, between Anirian culture and the Nordenfiir's own.

Though the two men from whom they had gotten their meals did not seem to find Alistair's appraisal to be charitable. Or...they resented that he had told it? Or perhaps that he even knew it? Whatever the truth of the matter, they had been offended to some degree and took their company elsewhere.

Kristen, paused in her eating, her lips a thin line of grimace, looked from Alistair to the departing men to Brenna. Had some kind of faux pas been committed?

Brenna clarified. Ah, so that was it then. Kristen didn't know how the Anirian diplomats did it, but, with said dislike of outsiders, they must have had a difficult time in arranging for Initiates to accompany Jarl Yngvir's raid. Also...well, it had to be said...two similarities now between Anirian and Nordenfiir culture.

Kristen felt an immediate kinship with Brenna when she mentioned that this was her first, and perhaps a fair bit of that glow touched her expression as she regarded the other girl.

"You are doing far better than I on your first outing." A sheepish glance to Alistair then; he probably knew, yet even if he did, bringing this up again was no less embarrassing.

Vel Acan.

"When first I saw battle, I...ahem...I vomited and collapsed to my posterior."

Alistair Krixus Brenna

 

[Alistair Krixus]

Alistair watched the men walk away from the fire with a deadpan stare. It did not matter. Alistair and Kristen weren't going to win over hearts and minds with a single battle. As long as their hate for them did not extend to outright confrontation then he had no problem with it.

He spoke sarcastically to Brenna, "Hm, I couldn't tell." Or, it was probably sarcasm. It was always hard to tell with Alistair.

He focused back in on the conversation with the two and smirked at Kristen, as he had heard the story.

"The first is always rough for everyone, just some are more unlucky than others."

Alistair was confused for a moment when Brenna motioned to her ears as he looked at them for a moment. His brain slowly began to put pieces together before asking.

"Brenna, are you deaf?"

That would certainly explain the sign language, but he had just assumed that was a habit of military training. It was impressive because she seemed to be capable of reading their lips to a level that made it unnoticeable.

Kristen Pirian Brenna

 

[Brenna]

Sarcasm - naturally - was lost on the young Nordenfiir who tilted her head in confusion before looking to Kristen when she noted her lips started to move. Pride made her sit up a little straighter, even if the compliment was from a summer lander, and her smile quickly turned into a grin and laughter at Kristen's retelling. A few other Nordens glanced in their direction curiously but none interrupted the group. Instead she wiped tears from the corners of her eyes in time to see Alistair's next question.

Bemused, she nodded.

"An accident during training, when I was..." she held up eight fingers as she momentarily forgot the common for the word.

"But I would see more of the vomiting incident, please," Brenna grinned and put her elbows on her knees, eagerly awaiting further details.

 

[Kristen Pirian]

Brenna, are you deaf?

Immediately Kristen snapped her gaze to Alistair, eyes wide and quizzical. Her gaze jerked then to Brenna, and those wide eyes, with just a little flex, became heralds of her realization. Oh! Blessed Aionus, how could she have missed such a thing? Never before had she actually been in the presence of someone afflicted so, merely had she known through the tellings of others that such a thing existed.

At least her ignorance was smoothed over by the reception of her recounting.

Of which Brenna wished to hear more. See more, as she had said. Yes...everything quite well fell into place as soon as Alistair mentioned it outright, hadn't it?

"Oh. 'Tis fair, for while it is embarrassing to the highest degree, it was I who summoned the subject to begin with." She cleared her throat, and fidgeted about, as if trying to find the perfect storytelling posture—or stalling for a few extra seconds. But she began:

"We Anirians who are gifted with magic must also face combat at a young age. It is part of our training to become Dreadlords. Well, myself and a number of other Initiates were on a mission—ironically, now that I am thinking of it, one that was not supposed to feature any combat at all. Anyway, on this mission to scour a library we were—or they were, to be precise, I was...well, nevermind what I was doing."

Kristen flushed. Trying to explain Proctor Magomo's menial tasks—making the garden of neat rocks, raking the lines in the dirt, carrying water from one end of Vel Acan to the other with just her two hands—and the purpose behind them to Brenna would perhaps take up the rest of the night.

"Point being, there was a cave-in inside of the library, and we all found ourselves down in some old, misbegotten ruin beneath the very earth. There are a great many fiends upon Arethil that are fond of the dark, that lurk in such places, and down in that ruin was no exception. Whilst my peers performed admirably, they with the benefit of a decade of conditioning and training and I with scarcely a year and no true experience of which to boast, I...did not react well to any of it. The presence of the fiendish creatures down there was troubling enough, but the grisly sight of the, shall we say, 'crimson spoils of battle' was what set my gut to rebel and to take the reins of my body from whatever meager fighting spirit I had at the time. My peers were, of course, my saving grace, and I am only here today even speaking of this on account of their swift actions. But...as you can imagine, they were...um...not pleased with my performance. If I may be allowed to speak a word in my defense: of course my performance was poor. Such frightful and macabre business was all so new to me."

Kristen smiled in a good-humored spirit about the whole thing.

Until some emotion, yearning to have itself be heard, came forth, and her smile turned fragile and wistful and she was speaking before she knew it.

"Sometimes I miss the person that I was back then."

Alistair Krixus Brenna

 

[Alistair Krixus]

Alright, he had to admit. He was impressed. To fight with such a handicap as deafness, would require talent, training, and a little bit of luck. People often underestimated the role that sound played on the battlefield. The fact that Brenna was out here without that help spoke of some of her skills and her character.

Of course, Alistair was drawn into Kristen's story like Brenna probably was. It was also a good reminder that Kriste was...well, she could be a bit long-winded sometimes.

He looked back and forth between the two as he wondered if Brenna read lips. If that was how he knew what they were saying, then she was going to have her hands full when it came to dealing with Kristen. It would be like reading a chapter of classical poetry in one minute.

"It always takes a bit of time to grow accustomed to the battlefield. That happens to everyone, even those who have trained for years."

Kristen Pirian Brenna

 

[Brenna]

Brenna understood the first sentence. She could work out the general meaning of the second and third. But the rest?

Once Kristen had finished the Nordenfiir's eyes panned slowly to her companion to see if he had understood her or whether her Common was just so lacking. It appeared to be the latter for he offered his friend some comfort. Or, given how vague said comfort was, maybe he didn't understand half the things Kristen had said either and was merely speaking in the pause that indicated it was their time to speak.

She decided to bet on the latter and sympathetically patted the other girls knee.

"Hopefully, the only vomiting today will be from too much drink in celebration of a victory!" the young Nordenfiir grinned. "I will stay with you Summerlanders, the snow is not for Fair Ankles."

 

[Kristen Pirian]

"My Darling Daughter," said Father, as he and Kristen embraced for the final time. At the door of the Pirian Estate, two Proctors awaited to escort her to the Academy. Father's eyes were glistening with sorrow. "If I could but hold you like this...and keep you so forever."

His last words, whispered and heartbroken, before she left.

"I will always love you. No matter what."

* * * * *​

Kristen was not so enraptured by her unbidden memory that she failed to hear Alistair and Brenna. But it was though both were distant down a hall, their words crossing that long stretch diluted and difficult to register. She felt the pat on her knee and looked to the hand—

(the real hand)

—which had done so and traced it back up along the arm and to the grin of the girl across from her. That fragile and wistful smile was all she could manage. A poor façade of joviality.

"Yeah," she said by way of response to both Alistair and Brenna. It was a response most imprecise, she knew. She tried to cover it by beginning to eat again (and yet her eyes could not help but take keen notice of the porcelain fingertips jutting out of her right gauntlet) and by hoping Alistair would entertain Brenna's curiosities for a time.

On her mind, the weight of Proctor Magomo's task. All of that vigor and determination she had for it on the voyage here.

She was not anymore that girl Father had embraced at the door of the Pirian Estate.

Alistair Krixus Brenna

 

[Alistair Krixus]

Alistair knew that look from anywhere. It was that look of memories that initiates got every now and then, but usually, the newer an initiate was, the more often he saw that look. He also knew one more thing about that look, it was none of his damn business. If Kristen wanted to talk about then she would tell him.

Instead, he turned back to Brenna and chuckled politely.

"I can agree with that, but...fair ankles? I would have figured your ankles would be rather fair up here given the weather."

He might have taken offense to be called fair ankles, but that would be with other initiates. There were plenty back at the Academy whose skin tone would put the northerners to shame. Most would actually, seeing as they spent much of their time outdoors training.

However, he could not really argue at this moment because it was himself and Kristen. Both were nobles with pretty fair skin.

Brenna Kristen Pirian

 

[Brenna]

Brenna looked at Alistair with a puzzled expression; why wouldn't the snow make for good strong ankles? Weak ankles would be useless-! A sudden dawning crossed her face as she recalled the words she had used.

"I think the right translation would be... weak," she said slowly and considered the translation in her mind before nodding. "We do not get so many people that I must speak Common... and not very many people where I must... speak," she flashed a grin to show she did not mind it however. In fact, languages fascinated Brenna and the chance to use Common was a welcome respite from the fighting. This raid was turning into an excellent exercise for both her body and her mind.

Shouts began to go up from the men as they donned axes and swords once more. It looked as though the brief rest was over. Onwards, they went.