Battle maidens
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The newly erected barracks soon open up for new occupants as the tall blonde known as Ragnhild announces her intent to teach willing young warriors the ways of the battle maidens of the north. All bold and able-bodied women, be they slaves or free citizens, are offered a chance to train with Ragnhild, who empathizes the words strength, honour, courage and comradery in describing her teachings, adding with a wide, feral grin:
"And is fun!"
The (perhaps questionable) fun factor aside, the martial training promises to be harsh and demanding for those choosing to participate, though as the skills learnt may lead to steady employment in the city's service, and for the slaves part, winning their freedom, the available spots may well fill up rapidly. Each trainee is given a set of simple weapons and armor - axe, hammer, spear, shield and chailmail, yet the first part of the training involves none of these. Grinning wolfishly at the women gathered outside the barracks, Ragnhild speaks up on the first morning of training:
"All have equipment redi? Eager to lern how use it? Good! Now put all aside and lern most simpel but important thing firrst - running."
Over the next couple of days, the streets of Oscura are filled with running women, sometimes in armor with weapons at their backs, sometimes in simple, light clothes, all sprinting, jogging or racing until utterly spent.
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_Irrelevant of the match's outcome, Ragnhild does hear the Herald out - after a moment of shameless glee if she wins, or a short, but volcanic outburst of anger if she should lose. Regardless of which, she soon calms down and listens to whatever is proposed, while another round of ale is brought to the table. Though she by now appears rather more serious, it also soon becomes apparant that Ragnhild has absolutely no intentions of doing anything in Oscura but what she and Justicar agreed on, namely training the volunteering women in combat. Her word, once given, is her bond, and she will not stray from it.
Over the coming months, the training continues, always beginning and ending with long running sessions, the sight soon becoming a familiar feature in the Oscuran day. Soon, the trainees run with armor, then with heavy backpacks as their stamina is built and tested. Ragnhild's regime might best be described as harsh, but cordial. Each woman, slave or free, is treated exactly the same, pushed hard and expected to give their all, but warm encouragement and rounds of ale are also liberally and just as equally dispersed.
The barracks and the area outside them are filled with the sounds of weapons clashing, before Ragnhild begins to lead small bands of her rookie warriors out on patrol into the kuo toa-infested caverns beyond the west gate. They return bloodied and limping, more often than not, though great care seems to be taken to ensure that everyone does return. Ragnhild herself seems proud of her pack, and pleased with the progress. For those women who chose to stick with it, training is all but completed when Justicar suddenly goes missing.
It's no great secret that Ragnhild's agreement was with Justicar, and Justicar alone. She seems to answer to no one else, and his disappearance seems to signal the end of her own part in the battle maiden program. Before she departs the underground city, there's a promise to fulfil to her young warriors, however. With that in mind, the tall blonde straps her axe and spears to her back and sets off to find a certain pasty elf, with whom she happens to be familiar with from years long past._
//Trying to wrap this thread up - just like Telli's project, it was entirely dependant on Justicar's involvement, and would likely cease when he went missing. Ragnhild wouldn't be Ragnhild if she just up and left without seeing the promise to her students fulfilled though, so I thought we could conclude the thread with a meeting between her and Pasty (who still owes her a wrestling match!).
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The Herald glances back to his retainers once, nods, then stares into her crazed eyes with his own dull ones through the slits in his mask. He casually applies pressure, seeming to be somewhat new to the crude sport.
((No idea, we can do an IG roll if you want, or maybe IRC, and add our bonuses?))
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Ragnhild takes a firm grip of the stranger's hand, throwing herself into the arm-wrestling with full force - and not inconsiderable experience, as he can soon tell. Her giggly ale-soaked grin is replaced with growls and grunts of effort, Ragnhild clearly being a highly competative person. Something about the fierce intensity in her eyes might caution a wise person against actually beating her, if wishing to keep the barbarian from a drunken temper tantrum..
//I can't very well decide the outcome of the match myself, but this is about how Ragnhild would behave. ^^
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_He glances back at the men behind him, then starts to dismantle his pauldrons and arm guards until his arm is bare. It is rather well muscled for a Herald, pale, and covered in runes that wrigle and squirm.
"So be it."_
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The arm in question is tanned and well muscled, if not overly huge. Tribal, wolf-like tattooes in red and black ochre run up and down it, intersected here and there by scars in varying shapes and sizes. Still grinning, Ragnhild replies:
"I vould rather have honest than polite, rather honour than chilvalri. Now, if you vinn, I vill take time and lissen to vhat you have to say, if you lose, you buy the ale! If you choose to sit and share it vith me, then you have my ear annivay."
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_He eyes her from behind his onyx mask for a moment, then glances to her arm.
"I was merely attempting to be polite, for chivalry is so hard to come by these days… I can only gain audience by showing that my arm is stronger than yours?"_
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Already well into her cups while drinking with Dietrick, Ragnhild eyes the proffered hand with curiosity, then suddenly takes a firm grip on it and proceeds to half drag, half prompt the armored man to take a seat opposite her. Planting her elbow onto the table with a competative gleam in her wolfishly slanted, light blue eyes, Ragnhild grins as she replies:
"You may have nothing, for I am not ladi or dearest of yours, but you may vinn a moment of my time in arm wrestel.. or lose and buy next round of ale!"
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After hearing her reason, Dietrick accepts it. He laughs heartily and agrees to the belching contest and proceeds to drink like a dwarf!
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_A man in black and red armor approaches the brutish lass, three men in black and red armor flanking him, as is his usual around Oscura. He wears a horned black mask and offers the lass a heavily armored hand.
Murmuring:"Dearest Lady, may I have a moment of your time?"_
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Ragnhild can often be found at the Mithril Mug in her free time, drinking and swapping tall tales with the mostly dwarven clientel. If Dietrick should find her there, he is greeted cordially, offered a generous amount of fine ale and a seat next to her. The request for a duel is turned down with a wide grin and a shake of her head, blonde curls dancing merrily.
"My days of blood and glori are over, you should seek younger, hungrier warrjor vith fire still burning inside for duel. I have no need and no desire to prove or test myself, or spread vhatever littel fame my name still carri. I am juss here to pass on vhat I know, to teach, and maybe light fire in other's hearts. Oh.. and the ale here is good!"
Grinning, she drains the mug in one huge gulp, hits her chest to release a thunderous belch and giggles, apparantly well pleased with herself. Light blue, wolflike eyes turn to Dietrick as a sudden thought hits her, the grin growing wider still:
"…how about belching contest though?"
Despite her forty-odd years, it seems some things about Ragnhild will never change..
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A hin named Dietrick is seen around oscura, seeking Ragnihild the renowned warrior for a duel between warriors.
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(( this message has been approved by the Justicar for President committee))
