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Ask How Dry I Am

Werewolf
Character
Nal Akima Citizen
Job
Warrior
Gender
Female
Age
27
Marital Status
Single
Character Profile
Link
OOC
Kayenta Moenkopi
Created
Jul 31, 2019
Messages
11
“Ylva.”

When Geirolf named her that it was just like calling her, 'woman', for that is what it meant, kind of; ‘female wolf’ was the literal translation to common. Gyda should have been affronted, even irate, but she was neither of those things. She couldn’t help but turn her head to the sound of his voice when he called her by the name. It was by this that she belonged.

A toothy grin, full of mirth dominated her face, with riotous red hair tied atop her head. The scarf holding her locks in place covered the tips of her Elven ears, though there was no need for her to be incognito here. This was but left over habit from her time with the pig farmers, All-Maker curse their souls.

Clad in a russet colored jacket she had woven and dyed herself, she wore no corset underneath that, the soft woolen blouse, and her shift. Nor did her form require such strict guidance. Her lifestyle was more than enough for her shape to maintain itself. Besides, her restless nature equated the feminine torture device as the next best thing to locking her in chains. She couldn’t very well carry the buckets dangling from her arms, which hung down along the sides of her green skirt, in one of those things. A person needed to be able to breath if they were to work.

A thick leather belt cinched her waist providing the means by which the tails of her grey apron and skirts were tucked up out of the mud. Yes, it was glorious not to be buried beneath a sheet of ice for 3 or so months in a row, but did all of them have to be so mucky? Gyda wouldn’t have minded a dry spell now and then but when the thaw came it didn’t fool around. Even so She could hardly wait to sneak off to Dragon’s End and do some fishing. First she had to get this water to the kitchens or cook would have her head.

His calling of her name, naturally, had caused her to halt and spy him standing before the open door to the hall beneath the massive head of a wolf. She brandished her brilliant grin against him as she began her taunt. ”Ah look but who decided to grace the day with his glorious presence if it isn’t the Jarl himself”, she called before setting both bucket onto the ground. The weight of the water caused the pair to sink a bit into the mud and for certain cook would have plenty to say about that.

Holding her right hand flat over her brow, she shaded her eyes while planting her right as at fist to her waist. Glancing at the sky she made a great show of turning from side to side as though trying to gauge the hour. ”And only two hour until supper. Well done, well done!” Sure the man had kept up with the whelps last night in the hall, the mead flowing more than these two buckets, one of which she had inadvertently sloshed as she was being dramatic. Never losing the opportunity to tweak him about his age creeping upon him, she didn’t really feel the need to inquire how his head was today. Some things were just given.

Lazy Spearman
 
Alpha Werewolf
Character
Nal Akima Citizen
Rank
Jarl of Norðanheim
Job
Axe of the All-Maker
Gender
Male
Age
47
Marital Status
Single
Character Profile
Link
OOC
Blue
Created
Jul 31, 2019
Messages
24
Despite the cutting cold of the day’s air Geirolf had only bothered to wear a loose shirt, equally loose trousers and a pair of boots. The reason for that was leaning against his right shoulder, the large Dane Axe, which was known as the “Axe of the All-Maker”. A title that the man who carried it shared as the Champion of their great God. Of course he didn’t feel like a Champion of anything right now, rather he just felt like an old man who’d had too much ale the night before.

He’d woken up rather a bit later than he’d have liked after last night’s indulgence. The first thing he’d done, after nearly drowning himself in water to rid of the grogginess, was to grab his axe and go through his daily routine. He’d always considered frequent martial practice to be important but his obsession with exercise had grown lately as his own mortality became ever present in his mind. Lycanthropes didn’t live as long as your average man, in fact by his age most would probably be dead especially after carrying The Blessing in his blood for so long. However he also carried the blood of generations of Shaman who’d honed their ancestry to breed children of power magical strength and long life. The former he’d largely lost thanks to his Wolf’s Blood overriding his arcane strength but the latter he wasn’t yet sure about. He’d aged like a normal man, something which often didn’t happen with his mother’s family who tended to look far younger than their actual age. He hoped that his bloodline would give him some more time before he became decrepit.

Regardless his morning exercise was completed and he’d managed to do so without vomiting everywhere although he could taste bile. Exhausted from the effort, his old joints aching from the workout and his stomach turning from the copious amounts of alcohol, he just wanted to sit down. Instead of tracking the entire way to the Village while feeling like death he decided to go get some food and maybe a drink back at Lupine’s Rest.

Walking through the opening in the palisade that some of the more paranoid local Werewolves had constructed to make their home somewhat defensible from attack. The Jarl couldn’t blame them truth be told, most had never had allies or friends since their turning and many humans misunderstood their kind, feared them and that fear too often turned into aggression. Just look at the barbaric zealotry of the Holy Swords. He felt so lucky to be born in Norðanheim sometimes, although technically part of Nal Akima they had a distinctively different culture to the mainland. Mainlanders often thought the Islanders to be barbaric but in truth they were simply more primal, close to what it meant to be alive.

He’d only entered the hall when he heard a familiar

Passing a cabin he saw a familiar red-headed figure carrying a bucket in each hand. Smiling faintly he called out to her. “Ylva.”

When she spoke he rolled his eyes. “You’re hilarious Ylva, has anyone ever told you that?” he retorted drily. He couldn’t begrudge the girl her good moon, the Elf was as precious to him as any child born of his line could be, but her overly enthusiastic voice wasn’t helping the ringing in his head.

“Hurry up and get those buckets to Brynjulfr before he loses his temper and tears off your oversized ears.” he grumbled in response.

The chef, Brynjulfr, was a mainlander who’d taken up the offer for temporary residence at Lupine Rest. Temporary and turned into permanent and he’d even married a native of the Island. It pleased the Jarl to know the two groups were beginning to mix.

Turning around he entered the hall and give a few casual greetings to the current residents before finding a seat in the corner and dropping into it. Discarding his axe, the holy artefact of his people, onto the bench next to him as if it were a common tool the man slumped exhaustedly onto the table.
 
Werewolf
Character
Nal Akima Citizen
Job
Warrior
Gender
Female
Age
27
Marital Status
Single
Character Profile
Link
OOC
Kayenta Moenkopi
Created
Jul 31, 2019
Messages
11
Despite her teasing, Gyda didn’t view the Jarl as waning in vigor in the least. To her he would always be a tower of strength. The issue of aging was something the young woman had yet to confront. For those of Elven stock life was exceedingly long and her own parents had merely seemed to be approaching middle age compared to their human counterparts. The rest of her life had not seen her live long enough to lose anyone of consequence by any other means than injury or illness. Theirs was not really a life that promoted dying of old age peacefully in one’s bed.

Mention of Brynjulf and his impending temper wiped the grin from her face quick enough. Glancing down at the buckets in the muck, her face grimaced while Geirolf left her with the mess. There was nothing for it but to get moving. Reaching to take the woven rope straps into hand, she trotted over to the entrance of the Hall pausing to flick the larger clumps of mud from the bottom of the buckets. Naturally a bit more water sloshed over the sides but it couldn’t be helped.

Her course took her round the outskirts of the tables set up in the main hall to wend her way back to the domain of the cook. The title was one she only voiced outside of Brynjulf’s ear shot for the man stylized himself of some grande chef or other. Gyda had no opinion on the matter other than he knew how to sear the outside of a haunch of meat to perfection without leaving the insides all grey and dry like cured leather. But then she liked her meat rare and slightly bloody. That made him a cut above most, in her culinary opinion.

The ’chef’ was certainly master of his domain, for none of his kitchen help were idling about but rather each to their own duties. Brynjulf Quartering a brace of rabbits and she wondered whose midnight snack that would be for she could make short work of those on her own. She made sure to cut a bee line behind him to the scullery and dump water into the vat which was heating for the wash. Her attempt at subtlety was a failure however for the man waved his meat cleaver in her direction and said, ”What’do ya mean tracking mud all over my kitchen, girl?”, though indeed she was long since grown into adulthood.

She just laughed evading his question on her way out of the door, ”Can’t help it Chef, Prey to The All-Maker for more sun!” Chuckling over having escaped the order for her to do more chores, she slid to the bench next to Geirolf grinning once more. ”Have you been up to the lake yet Geirolf?”, she questioned her Jarl. Her would know how keen she had been to get time out from the patrols to spoil herself a bit. Hopefully he would have no plans for her to go out ranging tonight.
 
Alpha Werewolf
Character
Nal Akima Citizen
Rank
Jarl of Norðanheim
Job
Axe of the All-Maker
Gender
Male
Age
47
Marital Status
Single
Character Profile
Link
OOC
Blue
Created
Jul 31, 2019
Messages
24
Much to his despair Geirolf’s attempt at resting for a few moments wasn’t interrupted by someone bringing him a mug of mead to wash away his hangover but rather an overly chirpy young Elf. Groaning he looked up at her with bleary eyes. “Yeah I go all the time with my secret group of fishing buddies, didn’t you know?” he muttered sarcastically. Straightening up he rubbed at his eyes in an attempt to wake himself up.

After a few moments and realising she wasn’t going to let this go he sighed. “I have been up that way but only in passing, I haven’t actually stopped by no. Especially not by moonlight.” She would likely know, as well as he did, that it was a full moon tonight and they’d had very little cloud the past few days. Not that the stories about the moon’s phases having any control over their kind had any truth to them but they were natural hunters and knowing which nights where the most illuminated did help.

Standing up the man stretched, groaning slightly as his bones popped and cracked with the motion. Picking up his sheathed axe he sighed. “Come on then. We have to get back to the village and drop this off, and grab me a bite to eat, if we’re going to go tonight.” he told her giving in to the silent demand. It wasn’t as if he had anything better to do anyway and Ylva deserved a break every now and then from her chores.

“Are you dressed up warm enough?” he asked a little fussily “You might want to change out of the dress into something less cumbersome.” he added like a nagging parent.

He would wait if Ylva had any need to get dressed a bit warmed, it might not seem too cold while she was doing her chores around the settlement but it was about a two hour walk back to the Village, if one was quick and used to walking in these conditions, and the already cold weather would certainly drop further. Of course dressed as he was the Jarl could hardly critique but he did none the less.

Leaning the axe against his shoulder the man set off. “Hurry up it’s a long walk back to the Great Hall and I don’t want to lose this.” he added shaking the axe slightly. It was a bit of an embarrassment but one of the last times the pair had stripped down and transformed to go hunting he’d forgotten to pick the weapon back up when he got dressed again. He’d been forced to bribe the Elf to make sure she didn’t let slip he’d almost lost the artefact.

When Ylva was ready the pair would set off without anymore delay.
 
Werewolf
Character
Nal Akima Citizen
Job
Warrior
Gender
Female
Age
27
Marital Status
Single
Character Profile
Link
OOC
Kayenta Moenkopi
Created
Jul 31, 2019
Messages
11
Gyda tried not to smile too brightly, as he uttered his groan and turned his bleary eyes her way; she failed miserably. His reply, however, caused her to set her lips together in a tight smile shaking her head at his sarcasm. She’d figure it wise to give him a break and leave off a bit with her ribbing for a while and turned on the bench to lean her back against the table. She was very much aware that she could go a bit overboard with these sort of things. It was a thin line between teasing and mockery and she respected the man too much to behave in such a derisive manner.

Having decided to give the poor man a break, his casual mention of the full moon made her sigh a bit. It was certain he would have something of import planned for tonight, unwilling to waste a hunter’s moon, and she cast her eyes to the wooden floor beyond her outstretched legs, feet swinging idly off the floor. Although not overly short, her feet could not reach the floor shifted back like she was against the table, and the tips of her muddy shoes peaked out from beneath the equally dirty hem of her skirt with each swing of her legs.

Certain his sudden move to rise would accompany instructions on preparing for the night, it was with a certain bit of surprise to hear he planned on a trip to the lake instead. Her hands pressed against the flat of the bench to either side of her form and she literally pushed herself to her feet with a nimble leap to the floor. Turning round, she backed away from the table to allow him passage grinning once more. Her quick question, ”Do you really mean it?”, was hardly necessary for he began asking after her dress and urging her to haste. But when he waggled the axe at her and said he didn’t want to lose it, she actually put her hand over her mouth with eyes wide to keep from barking in laughter. Boy that had sure been a lucky break. No doubt The All-Maker had intervened so he wouldn’t have to put up with the other Gods taunts over having a forgetful champion such as Geirolf. There were some things you could not live down even in eternity, God or mortal alike.

She didn’t dare let herself breath but darted toward the side door at a sprint, her hands clutching her skirts in both hands before pausing to spin round and say, ”I will be quick like a bunny!” Then she was out the door and running to the living quarters in the back. A quick change from her work clothes, draped across beams in the wall that were part of the hall’s construction, she threw on her hunting gear.

Returning to his side once more, she was a deal better suited for a hike and night excursion. She hadn’t changed from her woolens but merely donned her leather jerkin over top. Thick trousers went over her stockings, her belt with long knife secured in place was barely hidden beneath her open fur lined cloak. Upon her feet were knee boots equally up to the task of keeping her warm. Her hair was down and looking a mess, but even as she approached she was plaiting it into a thick braid to keep out of her face. ”Ready when you are!”, she said not caring one bit to hide her excitement.
 
Alpha Werewolf
Character
Nal Akima Citizen
Rank
Jarl of Norðanheim
Job
Axe of the All-Maker
Gender
Male
Age
47
Marital Status
Single
Character Profile
Link
OOC
Blue
Created
Jul 31, 2019
Messages
24
“Yes, yes now go get ready.” he had grouched but smiled as the girl ran off to prepare. He couldn’t help but feel pleased at her enthusiasm and cheer, it warmed his heart to see the young Elf so happy. The girl still lived in the temporary quarters provided in these very Halls. Geirolf had wanted her to spend more time living in the Great Hall but she always seemed to end back here, he wondered if she perhaps found the company of her own kind more comforting than that of normal humans, even those humans who accepted Lupines amongst them. When she returned he give her attired a once over and nodded in approval. “Good, let’s be off.”

The pair would stride through the small settlement and out past the edge of the palisade in short order. After a few hours of walking, with the odd inconsequential conversational point, Geirolf ran a hand over his head and while keeping an eye on their surroundings as he spoke, “There have been some reports from the mainland. Little of it good.” he told her, the Jarl made it a conscious effort to keep his ward updated on the occurrences in the wider realm as he frequently feared leaving the Elf to her own devices would cause her to ignore such important matters. “More Vampire Nests have been popping up around the Country, the numbers of bloody engagements between our kind and theirs also seems to be escalating.” he said with a note of concern I his voice, he spent perhaps too much time worrying about the greater Werewolf community. “Then there’s the Holy Swords…” he added with a tone of pure disgust “The bigoted zealots are growing in popularity and strength, it might not be save for me to attend the Council of Axes going forward.”

He sighed and shook his head. “On the happier side of things our own lands have never been happier. The Elders have reported the trade and profits from Southwatch are at an all-time high, the hunters from the Village believe that the wildlife populations that we prey upon are more populous than they’ve been in years so our new hunting laws must be taking effect…” he told her with a smile “Likewise the Fisherman seem to be doing well from what I hear and the Shamans have cast the runes for the change in season. They believe that, with the proper dedications, the All-Maker will be pleased with our actions over the past year and give us his continued blessings.”

The pair crested a hill as he finished speaking bringing the Village of Norðanheim. Some visitors to the island had asked him why the Village didn’t have a name beyond “The Village” and he’d explained that, before his rule, there had been no Southwatch. The Village had been the only place of significant population with the rest of his people spread out amongst the Island. These days, an effort that began with the events of the Vampiric Invasion decades ago, most natives had moved to the Village instead of living in their lonely cabins which had caused the village to grow. Meanwhile a few natives had also moved to Southwatch although most of that town where outsiders who wanted to leave Nal Akima’s mainland for their own reasons. The Village’s population was also given a boost by a select group of invited foreigners and mainlanders, those Lycanthropes who didn’t want to live apart from Humans out in Lupine’s Rest. Those Wolf-Blooded that chose the village for home tended to be ones who brought family with them. Either way Geirolf was happy with how much the two had assimilated with one another. His people where instinctively wary of outsiders, despite his progressive changes but Werewolves where seen as gifts from the All-Maker and that welcoming attitude was extended to their blood relatives and any other companions who accompanied them.

The Village was far larger than the growing settlement of Lupine’s Rest but unlike that Sanctuary there was no wall. Passing cabins the Jarl would have to stop and greet his people who shouted out his name as he passed. If there was one thing Geirolf could not deny it was his people’s fondness towards him.

Reaching the Great Hall he nodded to one of the Housecarls and glanced over at Ylva. “You can check in on your room if you want, no one’s been in there since last time you were here. I’ll be a few minutes getting ready.”

With that he would vanish into his own sleeping quarters, which took up an entire wing of the Great Hall, to get ready.
 
Werewolf
Character
Nal Akima Citizen
Job
Warrior
Gender
Female
Age
27
Marital Status
Single
Character Profile
Link
OOC
Kayenta Moenkopi
Created
Jul 31, 2019
Messages
11
It may have seemed like nothing would quell her exuberance that afternoon, but a walk with the Alpha in relative silence, not counting the odd comments between them which came fewer and fewer between, seemed to do the trick. Oh her general mood had not changed, but its unrestrained nature was much more sedate than when she had yet been attempting to manage a trip to the lake. Undoubtedly she had left off with her teasing tone while relatively still close to the remote sanctuary of Lupine’s Rest.

More like her years would warrant, rather than that of a boisterous child, her attention become quite focused when he mentioned news from the mainland. Dire as it seemed, it was what set their community apart from most others. The people of this generation, not in some for flung age gone by, knew they owed their lives to the protection of the All-Maker and his Werewolves. She doubted very much, without their kind being the perfect answer to the threat of the bloodsuckers that relations between those Blessed and those who were not would be so congenial. They were an oddity, up here in Norðanheim, but a nice one. For her it was the next best thing to Paradise.

Gyda’s thoughts turned dark, however, wondering how long would that last? Geirolf continued with talk of the threat posed by the Holy Swords, contrasting that with the upturn in their economy, and the payoff on their wilderness management. It couldn’t be more clear they were not a collection of monsters whose sole purpose was to feast upon the souls of small children. That attitude always rankled her nerves. So the thought of Geirolf not attending the Council of Axes sounded too much to her like laying down in defeat.

She broke her silence to say, ”That’s pretty serious. I mean not going could be seen as a sign of weakness and lead to a total withdrawal of all you have managed to create here. So much for trade profits if we have to gird ourselves for the threat of attack on our land by The Swords. We have just as much right to our own sovereignty as any other nation.”, she objected a bit heatedly. The whole abomination thing got her fur up, as it were.

She was not fool enough to think that living openly would remain some big secret known only to those in their island kingdom, especially with how well trade was going. And sure, they had not cropped up overnight as a nation of Werewolves as Norðanheim had always partaken within the Council of Axes. Could they really be thrown out, have their status as a nation of Nal Akima withdrawn if the Holy Swords raised a rabble against them?

It was making her a bit irate leaving her with nothing good to say about all he relayed to her on their prosperity and good omens. ”If you don’t attend The Council, then who will stand up to say we are not just some menace that needs to be eradicated by swords or any other means deemed necessary?”

She fell into a sullen silence as they neared the crest of the hill which provided them with the view of The Village. Walking through the streets she took little note of those who greeted the Jarl other than to nod her head now and then as his silent companion. It was almost like they were normal. That was the problem with living out in the open, sort of, the way that they did. It seduced one into believing that things could ever be different and that could lead one to getting themselves killed trying to stand for a cause.

Hate was a poison that rarely had an antidote and she was representative of nearly everything that was hated in this land: Werewolf, Mage, and Elven. With things so stacked against her, she didn’t really have to think twice about why she would stay. Leaving never entered her mind. This was the only true home or family she had ever known. Even so, dwelling in such numbers for too long a period of time always made her restless sending her out into the wilds for respite.

Nodding her head to Geirolf as he begged off to prepare for their excursion, she took his suggestion and stopped by her room in the Great Hall. Upon entering her room, she threw herself onto the bed lying on her back and huffed at the ceiling. The slightest puff of dust rose from the coverlet visible in the few rays of sunlight streaming in at the top of her window to the floor. Watching the slow motion dance of the dust fairies, she let her thoughts consume her.
 
Last edited:
Alpha Werewolf
Character
Nal Akima Citizen
Rank
Jarl of Norðanheim
Job
Axe of the All-Maker
Gender
Male
Age
47
Marital Status
Single
Character Profile
Link
OOC
Blue
Created
Jul 31, 2019
Messages
24
He had never stated that he’d be too afraid to attend the Council of Axes but he didn’t correct her either, if his plans for the girl’s future where to come to pass then Ylva would need to learn to think calmly about such things on her own. Such was a requirement of any good Jarl. Geirolf had every intention of continuing to attend the Council meetings, time and weather permitting, but he’d have to start taking precautions not only for his own safety but for those of his people too.

Once he’d finished getting ready Geirolf left his chambers. He was dressed in his usual armour of fur and leather and he had his personal axe tucked into his belt. Stopping for a moment to chat with one of his personal housecarls, most of them where members of his pack, he informed the man that he’d be off with Ylva for the night down at the lake. The lower ranked werewolf had simply grinned and wished him the best of luck, recommending that he not letting the young elf get too excited lest she fall into the water.

His fist thumped against the Ylva’s door with enough force to rattle the frame. “I’m ready to head off just going to grab some food as quick as possible, the sun will be setting soon so I’ll get a move on.” he said through the shut door. “Come out and join me when you’re ready.”

Grabbing one of the thralls by the arm he asked the girl to fetch him some meat. Two plates actually. It was quite well known by his servants at this point that only he only ate meat these days, most of the villagers where aware this was a side-effect of being a Lycanthrope. Taking his seat at the top of the tall, where the traditional thrones of the Jarl and his wife where placed, Geirolf looked out at the tables. There were about forty villagers sitting around, eating and drinking their fill, while laughing amongst themselves. Once the sun went down the place would be absolutely heaving with folks looking for food, mead or just warmth and company.

The serving girl brought the two plates out and he set one of them on the table between the main and secondary throne. Picking at his meat he let out a pleasurable sigh of enjoyment as he swallowed the food. He hadn’t realised just how starved he was until he’d begun eating. When Ylva joined him he’d wave at the other throne and nod at the meat. “Some food before we head out if you want it.”
 
Werewolf
Character
Nal Akima Citizen
Job
Warrior
Gender
Female
Age
27
Marital Status
Single
Character Profile
Link
OOC
Kayenta Moenkopi
Created
Jul 31, 2019
Messages
11
Had she nearly fallen asleep? Perhaps for when Geirolf’s fist began thumping on the door she bolted straight up out of bed as though startled from a coma. She was more than ready to leave the confining room and her thoughts behind so wasted no time in joining him. Even so, he was already seated in the Jarl’s throne eating dinner her plea to go adventuring had interrupted. Her hardly needed to invite her twice, however, for the smell was whetting her appetite considerably.

She slid into the lesser throne near him and took out her small dagger to cut a chunk free. ”Thank you. I was a bit sorry to miss Brynjulfr’s up at the Rest.”, she replied before eating the seared meat. There was no danger Geirolf would misunderstand for she would not pass up the chance to head out to the lake, not even for one of Cook’s roasts cooked to perfection.

She leaned back to chew and savor the flavors while her eyes looked out over the Grand Hall and despite her intention to leave her thoughts back in her room drifting around unattended with the dust motes, she could not help but wonder how long any of them had in this world the Jarl had created for them. Swallowing she approached the topic a bit more tentatively than she had upon first hearing of the growing fanaticism of the Holy Swords.”Geirolf…”, she began hesitantly, ”... how do we fight such blind hatred. There is so much here to lose.”
 
Alpha Werewolf
Character
Nal Akima Citizen
Rank
Jarl of Norðanheim
Job
Axe of the All-Maker
Gender
Male
Age
47
Marital Status
Single
Character Profile
Link
OOC
Blue
Created
Jul 31, 2019
Messages
24
“As was I.” he admitted. Perhaps it was a simple need for the variety and enjoyment of it all but the Werewolf Cook prepared the meat much better than the one here did. Tearing another piece of meat he chewed on it while the girl talked, letting out a tired sigh he glanced at Ylva momentarily looking his age and bearing the exhaustion that came with decades of living a life such as his. However as he straightened the years and weariness seemed to be thrown off his powerful shoulders.

He smiled. “We can only do what we can do my dear.” he said kindly. “I am a Jarl, but I am only a Jarl and my territory is smaller, and far less populated, than many others. As such my voice is a small one in the Council but an insistent one none-the-less.” he explained. “However what happens if I keep declaiming the Holy Swords in front of my peers, the Order which is now seen as saviours by most of the mainlanders?

“In the end we can only show the rest of Avsolom how we behave. We don’t start fights, although we might go on the occasional traditional raid, we’re trying to start a peaceful and open trading market to share our crafts and resources. We’ve an open policy for outsiders to purchase a home in Southwatch.”
he explained with a slight shrug. “The whole Lycanthrope thing is still a secret, for now, but our usage of Magic is well documented. That’s what I fear will bring the bigots to our shores.”

Sighing he shook his head slightly. “We are few and they are many but if it comes to it then they’ll face our people’s shieldwalls, the Shamans will turn the seas and the winds against them and the Wolves of Norðanheim will descent upon the Holy Swords as if they were prey. They’ll bleed so heavily for every foot of land that the backwards fools will never be capable of raising their hateful blades against anyone ever again. We’ll scatter across the Island and strike at them making them bleed as the blizzards consume them.” He smiled. “We are stronger than they know and more talented people join us every week. We have allies across the sea too who likewise to not trust the growing Order. Fear not, we will do all we can to avoid conflict but if it comes we’ll stand strong and the All-Maker will guide us in battle.”
 
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Werewolf
Character
Nal Akima Citizen
Job
Warrior
Gender
Female
Age
27
Marital Status
Single
Character Profile
Link
OOC
Kayenta Moenkopi
Created
Jul 31, 2019
Messages
11
Cutting free another bite of the meat, she contented herself with eating while Geirolf tried to explain things to her. For but a moment he seemed to be carrying a huge weight and as the flicker of age washed over his form she stilled inside for worry was tickling at her mind. Just as quickly, he straightened his form and the glimpse was gone leaving her unsettled with this new insight for her to digest.

She noted how he set his tone to soothe her worries, choosing his words carefully so as to reassure without whitewashing the fact. That was almost as unsettling to her as had her new sense into his aging years had been. Rarely did he treat her with such kid gloves and it prompted her to wonder how much toll the years were beginning to take upon this man she viewed as an unbreachable fortress of power and strength.

His statement of the facts clarified for Gyda the complexities of this new threat putting their position into better perspective than at first mention of the Holy Swords. On the road she had been a bit reactionary but she knew she needed to approach this situation with reason and intelligence, not passion and fury. It would be a tall order but the import of her managing to control her impulses was never so crucial as it would be in the months and years to come. She could not run around like some reckless child anymore.

Nodding her head thoughtfully as Geirolf went on to enumerate their strengths and weakness, she too heart. Their life was all about survival and this threat would be no different than any other. Their job was to meet each obstacle and use their All-Maker given gifts to succeed so their land might prosper.

It was true they were well fortified but she knew they could not rely upon The Holy Swords succumbing to the harsh climate so easily for life within the Peaks of Nalak was no summer picnic. Even so, she knew the hardiest of natives would fall to the elements this land could hurl upon them save as any other. Nature played no favorites. She would take heart, however, for his words focused her resolve most expertly. Grinning, she realized he was pretty deft at managing her volatile nature. It was just another asset at his command and another mark of what made him such a good Jarl for their people.

”Your words are wise, Geirolf. Thank you for their gift.”, leaning forward she skewered the piece of meat from which she had been trimming bites and held it before her. ”I pity the soul who tries to take from us what is ours”, she commented before bringing the meat to her mouth to eat. Looking out over the faces of those gathered in the Great Hall this evening, she knew each and everyone of them would be a force to be reckoned with for there was nothing like a home field advantage.

Not that the woman was devoid of concern for she was no fool to let arrogance blind her to her own weaknesses nor those of their Jarldom. But they did have one thing that other places did not; werewolves. Both a boon and a curse, she knew all too well for their God given enemy, the Vampires of the Under-Foe, would never permit them to live without the threat of war. It would basically be just another day. They were born for warfare and gifted by the All-Maker who would not abandon them, just as Geirolf had said.
 
Alpha Werewolf
Character
Nal Akima Citizen
Rank
Jarl of Norðanheim
Job
Axe of the All-Maker
Gender
Male
Age
47
Marital Status
Single
Character Profile
Link
OOC
Blue
Created
Jul 31, 2019
Messages
24
A great guffaw tore free from the man. “Of course I’m wise! I’m the great Jarl Geirolf, son of Aegir the Fearless! Lord of Norðanheim and Champion of the All-Maker, wielder of the great axe!” he roared causing a few of the men drinking at the tables below to raise their mugs and roar their approval of his sudden declaration. Chuckling to himself he finished of his plate before throwing it onto the table at his side. “Pity all blinkered fools who let hate and ignorance blind them to the truth around us.” he told her with a note of seriousness.

Straightening up he checked to see if Ylva was ready he nodded once she was finished. “We should get a move on or we’ll be too late to enjoy ourselves.” he told her.

Moving down the hall, waving at some of the men as he did so, the Jarl led the girl outside. A bit of a wind can began kicking up and a light snowfall had begun. He glanced up at the sky, which was somewhat more clouded than predicated, and let out a thoughtful hum. “Hopefully it doesn’t get any heavier than this.” he commented.

Taking a route he’d walked countless times they took the quickest way to the lake. It was over an hour walk which the Jarl seemed to prefer to travel in silence, although he was willing to answer any questions the Elf asked him. Geirolf enjoyed taking in the nature around them, out of sight of any other living soul. As they crested a hill they both would see the icy blue lake as it came into view, shining in the moonlight from the light drizzle of snow.

“Here we are.” he announced happily.
 
Werewolf
Character
Nal Akima Citizen
Job
Warrior
Gender
Female
Age
27
Marital Status
Single
Character Profile
Link
OOC
Kayenta Moenkopi
Created
Jul 31, 2019
Messages
11
Gyda laughed as the Alpha made his boasts and the hall joined in to toast their Jarl’s good name.How could one ever doubt such self confidence, especially since the words were not those of an outrageous braggarts. He very much had proven himself over the years. It was a good life here in Norðanheim, a good sight better than the one she had been living on the mainland, and she wasn’t likely to stand aside while anyone chose to threaten that.

Rising to her feet, she tucked her eating dagger away and quipped, ”It’s never too late to enjoy yourself Geirolf” That didn’t mean she would drag her feet for she was as eager as ever to get to the lake. The best hours for fishing were just as the sun was setting and the bottom feeders would rouse to eat.

Passing through those gathered one of the men asked if he could tag along and she gave his shoulder a playful shove telling him, ”Not on your life, Holfin. Your lumbering around would scare all the fish away!” Leaving his companions to laugh and tease the man, she soon caught up to Geirolf to begin their trek through the last bit of light in the day.

There was something magical for Gyda that happened during that hour of the day, for the land took on many different coloured hues, even the snow, as the shadows fell upon the world. It marked a time, an in between, when part of the wildlife that populated the land was bedding down while others were waking to being their hunts for the day.

The beginning snowfall was a bit concerning for even this late in the year they had been known to get a sudden accumulation that could keep them bound to their settlements. People would work to dig pathways through the snow from house to barns creating a lot of extra work just to survive, but Gyda had always loved the feeling of insulation at such times. It was as if the snow washed the face of the world making everything new again.

Upon cresting the top of hill she looked down over the lake and its crystalline waters, pausing to just soak up the sight. About the banks of the lake were sparse stands of birch trees, a rarity in this climate which only added to the legend of Dragon’s End. The Shamans had told her the dragon kept it just warm enough for the white trees to grow. ”This has to be my most favorite place in all of Norðanheim, Geirolf”, she said before turning with a smile and walking down the slope to pass through the sparsely spaces trees.

Closer to the lake were huts that were set up for fishing. There was even ones set up on skids that could be drug out onto the ice, the floors containing a trap door that could be lifted by the people inside. These, however, had been returned to shore long before the summer thaw began. ”I hope my gear is still in the shack”, she teased for indeed it wouldn’t matter, she had packed hooks and line in her belt pouch and it would be plenty enough to work with.
 
Alpha Werewolf
Character
Nal Akima Citizen
Rank
Jarl of Norðanheim
Job
Axe of the All-Maker
Gender
Male
Age
47
Marital Status
Single
Character Profile
Link
OOC
Blue
Created
Jul 31, 2019
Messages
24
“I dunno if I’d say it’s my favourite.” he said walking alongside the young girl. “I mean what if the Dragon breaks free? It’s a scary place if you ask me.” he said severely. He didn’t believe that at all of course. The All-Maker had fashioned the perfect prison and a mere Dragon, even an Immortal one so great as to be worthy of battle with the God himself, couldn’t shatter a cage forged by the Creator of All. But it was fun to tease.

As they came upon the various fishing huts, most of which were temporary and would be blown down during the next winter, he shot a side glance at Ylva. “Yeah of course, wouldn’t want anyone stealing that shitty spear or rod from you.” he commented with a mockingly serious tone.

Ice fishing, traditionally, was done via three methods. Pretty much all of them used a spear first to make a hole through the ice into the water then one either used their hands to flip the fish out of the water, a spear to… well spear them and the last was clubbing where one struck through relatively thin ice to club the fish beneath to death. Geirolf had never liked the last method very much. A newer method had begun to catch on in his father’s day when it was discovered that waxing fishing lines could stop them freezing over and so fishing rods had begun to be used even during the coldest weather.

It was possible of course that the lake would be warmed enough that some of the ice would be melted so they could just use a rod and not worry about anything else. Geirolf hadn’t been down this way since the weather broke but he wasn’t convinced that the lake would be completely thawed, it wasn’t unheard of for the body of water to remain frozen for nearly the entire year.

Shifting his backpack he let Ylva take the lead as she headed towards where her gear was stored.

Kayenta Moenkopi
 
Werewolf
Character
Nal Akima Citizen
Job
Warrior
Gender
Female
Age
27
Marital Status
Single
Character Profile
Link
OOC
Kayenta Moenkopi
Created
Jul 31, 2019
Messages
11
Gyda’s eyes glanced sidelong at Geirolf trying to determine if he was teasing her or no. It was often hard to tell with that deadpan delivery of his. Sometimes late at night in the Great Hall someone would begin the telling of tales and all would gather to listen. It was especially popular during the harsh winter season when travel outside the holds was reduced to necessity based forays. Tales of the dragon rising from the lake were an old favorite and had become fables designed to keep unruly children in check. Everyone knew what happened to wicked little children who wouldn’t stop stealing sweet breads from the kitchens! Even so, the story tellers had skill and persuasion on their sides and it was easy enough for a sense of dread to lie in wait to sneak up and give someone a huge case of the willies. It wasn’t, however, until Geirolf commented on how scary the place was that she snorted and rolled her eyes at him, for he had overplayed his hand. As if anything could scare the man. ”Uh-huh. No doubt Nodahk Vendicore is waiting to drag us off to her hovel and shove us in the cook stove too”, the witch being yet another tale of what happened to little children who wandered away into the forests instead of doing their chores.

Passing by several huts that had not made it through the winter in one piece, she laughed at first but then took on an offended tone of voice. ”Hey now, I put a lot of work into that spear. Iron wood is hard to sharpen you know.”, she objected, though she was curiously silent concerning the rod. It could hardly be called anything other than a stick she tied waxed string to. Still, it worked as well as any finely crafted rod would do. How impressive did a stick have to be anyway? All it did was give you something to tie your line to. It wasn’t like it had to hold up to skewering a fat fish like a spear would need to do.

Upon reaching the hut where her gear was stored, she scraped at the ground with the heel of her boot to clear it of debris a bit then took hold of the door and began to tug it open. It cleared the ground of what rubble she hadn’t managed to swipe away and swung open in halting increments until it was wide enough for her to slip inside. That was when she got the fright of her life for a badger had decided to winter within, having gnawed and clawed a tunnel under the walls and come up through the fishing hole in the floor. It lept for her with a sudden growl seeking to tear her a new one. ”Holy Attar Tongues!”, she yelled trying to pull her dagger to fend the creature off even as she attempted to back her way outside into the open. Naturally she tripped on the rubble before the door and the furious beast was upon her.

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