Following the Lady and her stars. (Defcon1DFA, Njal Ulfrafn)
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// Player Account/GSID: Defcon1DFA, PC: Njal Ulfrafn //
_As the icelace lays wrapped in en embrace of mist, the distance births a dark form, moving gracefully across the waters towards the peltarch docks. Its wooden contours lovingly worked by one who loves his craft, the longboat's head crafted to resemble a great wolf rounding a tree under the watch of a sleek raven. one arm wrapped around the fore, a Figure clad in thick furrs of bear and wolf skin watches the approaching stones of the pier, salt-caked armor lies beneath his furrs as he lifts the visor of an ancient horned helm. Stepping back from the fore, the armoured figure moves to the tiller, adjusting sails as he guides the gracefull wooden longship ashore, alone.
Leaping ashore to tie down his trusted ship, his blue-grey orbs survey his latest landing's surrounds. his mind wandering back to the journey's beginning_
The frost had just began to thaw, Falling in sheets from the barn's thatched roof. A man works at an anvil, Fixing the set of a horseshoe with his hamer and pins, bare from the waist up, his borad-shoulders glistening with sweat and long blonde hair, normaly falling to his shoulders is tied back with an iron ring, each exhale bringing forth a gout of steam from his flaring nostrills in the still frigid air.
Moving to the water bucket after a time, dropping the hot steel of the shoe into its depths before dropping it with a matched trio in a leather bag by a worn saddle in the barn. Pulling a furr vest over his shoulders after a time, he wanders outside into the snow covered feilds of the Damaran Highlands. Walking across the snowscape, he finds his way to a cobbled path. Following the cold stones to a stone statue, topped with a silver orb in a woman's hands. Kneeling to say a soft prayer in his low baritone voice as the sun sets and selune finds its place in the sky.
Rising from his prayers, the selunite wanders back up the path towards his home, picking up his tools from the small smithy and turning towards his house. Only to be met by a vision of Vassan Beauty. Blonde hair that would fall to her hips and sway with each step, Pale skin like the purest porcelain, a full bust and hips, a Woman born to sire strong children. And one that most certainly had. as she carries an urn of goat's milk towards the house, flashing a smile to the man, a pair of children run past her to wrap thier arms around the large selunite's legs.
The Children look up adoringly at the man, and he looks down upon them fondly. Patting the eldest, a boy, on the head as he lifts his younger sister up to his arm. looking to her.
[Damaran] : "How are you my precious mountain flower? How many young braves must I watch follow your every step this week? and you my son, How many mothers are complaining about thier foolish son's bruises?" the man speaks fondly, the girl blushing at the question as the sun keeps his head high in pride.
[D] : "May we play with the pony? Mother said we have earned rest from our chores this day." asks the youngest
[D] : "Go ahead, but don't bother him too long, I've need of him in the morning."
As the children run off towards the barn, the man resumes his path towards the home before halting as a warm smile crosses his features, the woman now free of her burden, stands under the thatched awning of the house, smiling radiantly out to her lover.
Striding up to the house the Selunite takes the beauty into his arms a moment as his lips meet with hers. loosening his embrace a moment he wanders inside with one arm around her waist.
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In the cliffs above the small farmstead, steam flares from the nostrills of a large warhorse. its rider watching the couple enter thier home as he turns back to his band, the finest selection of the filth that ride a bloody path across the damaran border, Powerfull warriors of the most bloodthirsty Damaran and Vassan stock, turned to raiding the border villages of both realms.
With a guthural command, the host begin thier descent upon the seemingly helpless homestead. blades slide from thier sheaths with an earie ring and other weapons are hoisted high to cut down any in thier path with a single blow. A thunder of hooves sounds down to the settlement heradling thier arival all too late, several torches let fly towards the thatched roof of the barn, the two children running out towards the house, the son brandishing a broadsword from his father's things as he urges his sister towards the house as he brings the blade up to but into a horses' throat at a kneel, making the animal collapse to the ground and hurling its rider several yards ahead. rising up to meet another attacker he is struck from behind with a heavy mace, a crimson flow spreading from his neck over the snow.
A crossbow in hand, the Man exits the home to unhorse a rider bearing down upon his daughter, lifting an axe from atop a pile of wood he bears down upon the mounted band bear chested. Moving sideways to avoid the first of the rushing cavalry, he brings the axe handle into the horses face with bone shattering force, moving fluidly to unhorse another raider with his seccond blow, Abandoning the axe buried in his fallen foe, he spots his son's limp form and becomes enraged, leaping foreward to tear another raider from his saddle. taking a knife from the man's belt to finish him off before taking up the axe again, Raising his hand to the night's sky as divine power readys itself to guide his arm
In the blurr of combat be gatches a glimpse of a raider cald in dark furrs and a horned helm, lifting the screaming form of the daughter onto his shoulder before he felt a sharp pain on the back of his head, and everything went dark, the world sat still for a moment in his eyes and he forgot the chaos of battle. his ears filled soley with the screams of two women.
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His eyes cracking open to gaze into the night's sky, the selunite picks himself up from the crimson snow to stagger foreward towards the sound of horses. looking bellow he gatches a glimpse of a red-sailed longboat heading downriver, filled with men and horses, before he falls foreward again to pass out into the realms of unconsciousness.
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A sharp pain bites into his neck as a raven mistook the cold and immoble form for carrion. waving the bird away as he ruses, groggy, he moves to his son's corpse lifting the cold, lifeless form after a moment as he carries his heir's body up to the remains of his home, smoke lingers heavy in the air from the burnt out barn and the house lays a mess of broken furniature and scattered posessions.
Rising to enter his bedroom, he falls to his knees at the scene before him, his spouse's form lay bloody and beaten atop thier bed, ravaged by the raiders. his cries of pain echo out over the mountains as he lifts his family into his arms to take them outside, lifting a shovel as rain begins to fall, commiting them to the earth.
As his grim task comes to its conclusion, he moves to the charred remains of his barn, lifting a false floor near the back and lowers himself into the cellar, pulling a canvas sheet from the table, he exposes a suit of runed armor and a battleaxe. lifting them from the table he begins to donn the ancient suit, before strapping the axe to his hip, lifting a helm, cloak and sheild from the wall of the cellar, he wanders outside to selune's shrine once more, kneeling a moment in silent prayer before marching down to the river's bank and sailing out onto the chilling waters atop his prided longship. following the signs of destruction and charnage along the river, eventually to a body of water known as the icelace.
His mind returning to the present, he looks back out over the chilling waters for a moment before paying the dockmaster and heading off towards the city centre
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Reviewed, XP Pending!
DM RosePetals: XP Given.
