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Another Life {Cheshire Smirk & Blinkk}

"Death comes in many forms, but not always in haste. You died when the first of your flock fell."

Vallios' voice was deep and accented with the biting winds of the frigid north. It was odd however to hear a man who'd proven himself capable of inhuman savagery speak with such wisdom. For a moment Vallios did nothing but look Lea straight in the eyes, topaz orbs seeming to pierce straight to the very soul. Vallios withdrew a knife from his belt and then slowly, somberly put a hand on Lea's shoulder. Gently he forced her to her knees, only increasing pressure if she tried to struggle against the inevitable. It was difficult to do this, but law and custom demanded it happened. She had been the only other witness of his Shieldmaiden's passing. Apprehension had to be pushed aside, this path required conviction to walk. There would be those who opposed such action, but Vallios knew it was what needed to be done. Mjarrla was fiercely proud of the customs and laws of their people. To do anything but this would dishonor her memory in the most unforgivable way.

"It is not just the body that can die however. The spirit dies just as frequently, and like the phoenix it is reborn from the ash."

Lightning flashed across the sky, thunder's booming voice drowning out all other sound. A torrential downpour began, sheets of rain falling from the sky. Vallios knelt down and grabbed a handful of wet ash and moist dirt. The mixture was rubbed across Lea's face and neck until it covered her skin. What sort of ritual was this? This was one hell of an elaborate execution. Finally the knife came into play, it's sharp point being brought to rest at the corner of Lea's cheek, right below her eye. The blade traced the trail her tears had created in the soot, it's point pressing only as deep as necessary into her flesh to create a mark that would scar. Vallios did this to the other cheek as well. Scars were an important part of Baarskor culture. Scarification was often used to commemorate deep sorrow. In such close quarters Lea had a chance to better observe Vallios. The armor he wore was an elaborate mixture of steel links, studded leather and fur. The cloak he war was made from bear, it's arms and the upper half of it's skull still attached. A necklace of fangs, talons and claws hung around Vallios' neck. It was apparent that the man was a skilled hunter. There was elegance and mastery behind the savage efficiency of Baarskor garb.

Vallios then stepped behind Lea, setting the knife down in her lap afterwords. With a careful hand he pulled Lea's hair back from her face and then tilted her head upwards until she was looking straight at the skies above. Several moments he held Lea in that position in absolute silence while the rain washed ash, dirt, and blood away from her. It was only when the last bits of ash was clear that he released her. This was the proper inauguration for an exceptional warrior captured in battle. Lea had proven herself of unmatched honor when she worked to ease Mjarrla's passage. It was believed that the spirit of a Maiden lived on in those who were there when she passed. Hopefully Lea would do credit to Mjarrla's memory.

"Stand now as Baarskor, stand as a child of Erronar. Stand and be reborn."
 
Lea held herself steady as the man approached her, eyes shifting to look him over as he came close. His words washed over her, a deep, accented tone seeming oddly calm compared to what had just gone on in the city. Her eyes lightly shimmered when his met hers, falling once she saw him draw the knife. Every bone in her body told her he was going to go against her wish and keep her alive despite how much she may beg for him to kill her. Maybe later she would thank him but right now, she only wished he would end it. She lowered her self to the ground, silently following his lead, wincing under the pain of his hand and the feeling of the stone on her body again. She may not have died when the first of her city was killed, but the man seemed to know what he was talking about. Or maybe it was his accent that was making her think he did.

She winced at the sudden flash of light and the roll of thunder. She knew it was coming, but nothing could prepare herself from such a sound in this situation. Her eyes squeezed shut as the rain began to fall around them, hissing against the crackling fire which surrounded the couple in the street. Lea opened her eyes seconds later, listening to the rain around them and the following rolls and cracks from the sky above. As soon as the man began to touch her face with the mixture of sludge he had lifted from the ground, the girl squeezed her eyes shut, backing away even to avoid getting too much on her. It didn't work and as soon as she felt the knife against her skin, she tensed, eyes wide for a second before closing again with a whimper. And the pain didn't stop there... he continued to pull the tip down her cheeks, drawing another soft cry from her at the end of it all. The sludge fell into the wound, making the pain all that much worse until he pulled her head back, his hand burying into her hair as an anchor.

Lea didn't fight. She kept her head back, letting the rain fall from the sky, cleaning her wounds and the remains of her village from her skin. This was the worst day in her life, but it wasn't even close to being over yet. The woman remained as silent as she could, allowing the gift from above to erase as much as it would allow while there was a moment of silence. And as soon as he spoke, Lea let her head fall forward, the rain now hitting the back of her head to wet her hair and free it of the feeling of the man's touch. She tightened her eyes again before looking at the ground beneath her, followed by the slow move to climb to her feet. There was no way she was going to let this man see her weakness if she could manage it. She turned her gaze to Vallios and quickly met his eyes.

"How does this make me anything like you?" she asked, hate hidden in her voice, a sour taste in her mouth at the idea. "You may have shown me mercy, but that does not mean I'll be thanking you. Or any of your kind. Your people have destroyed my home for absolutely no reason. You may think I'll go against my Goddess, but no matter how much you beat me, I will never be a Baarskor." Her final word was practically spit out, showing the hidden spirit she still had hidden inside of her. She may have been hurting and my have seemed beaten, but she refused to give in to these brutes just yet. They may try to take her body but they would have to earn her mind.

But deep down, something told her to be grateful for what this man had done. He was giving her another chance to live and another chance to learn. This better be worth it.
 
"You say our name as if it was a curse. You see your people as victims. Tell me...Have you ever watched an osprey pluck a fish from it's mother ocean?"

When Vallios spoke his words held the patience of an elder explaining why the sky was blue to a curious child. Vallios had converted outsiders before; as Baarskor Champion it was one of his sacred duties. The process was never easy or smooth. Even wayward mercenaries had difficulty adapting to the rigid, all-encompassing dogma of the Baarskor lifestyle. Their outlook on life was so alien compared to the "civilized" peoples from the Land of Plenty. It was often easiest to start with nature metaphors and push a newcomer to the understanding that raiding and hunting were one and the same. Lea saw the burning of Trept as a travesty, as sacrilege and cruelty. The Baarskor saw Trept as nothing more than a crop field freshly harvested, waiting to be tilled and replanted for next season. It was always hard for outsiders with their notions of "fairness" and "justice" to understand the Northern way of life, to understand survival of the fittest.

"Do you curse the osprey for it's actions? Surely it is an unjust end to the defenseless fish. Is the osprey wicked for lining it's nest with the bones of it's meal so that it's home may have structure?"

The lessons would only go as deep as Lea pushed them. In the past Vallios had tried to educate the adopted through indoctrination and force. Time and time again such ways had proven themselves destined to fail. No, things had to be taught step by step. First Lea would learn the laws of the wild, the first laws. Perhaps the Southernbloods had forgotten those ancient truths but the Baarskor remembered them. The Baarskor understood that they were bound by nature's laws just the same as any other life. Question by question Vallios would weave the story of the Baarskor for Lea and with every answer he would unravel her doubts and false beliefs. Lea would become Baarskor or perish out on the frozen tundra. She came from a land that sewed life and bore fruit, not from a land that culled the infirm and froze the weak. Lea would learn to hunt, she would learn how to mine and smelt iron, she would learn to fight and she would learn what it felt like to freeze. Eventually she would understand why the Baarskor did not trade with those too weak to defend themselves.

"As for your Goddess, you may find her touch in the words of Erronar. While we may recognize different names and faces we are bound by the same truths. You are not being asked to abandon your faith."

Now to wait for the rebuttal, although Vallios already knew what was to come. Southernbloods always argued the difference between animals and humans. They balanced their points on the wobbly legs of 'morality', conveniently forgetting to think of the past. No, the Southernbloods never seemed to be able to recall the time of Five Brothers, to recall a time before the Baarskor had set off for the frigid North as displaced tinkerers, poets, craftsmen, musicians and lovers. They did not remember the nations shattered and villages burned out of greed. The Land of Plenty and all it's splendorous bounty had fattened their bodies and fogged their minds, they had absolved themselves of past sins through complacent denial. But that was the way of the victor wasn't it? To change the past and bury misdeed. It was the way of the coward and the weakness that sprawled throughout the Land of Plenty was proof of such corrupted mentality. The North had taught the Baarskor better. The North had taught them that only the strong survived, had taught them that the weak had rights to nothing but a swift grave.
 
At first, Lea didn't see where he was going with this. He was talking about a hawk and... oh. Now she understood where he was going with his thoughts. He was trying to make his cause seem like a simple feeding spree, as if it was simply their nature. She had never before met another who's nature was to kill humans to survive. Animals, yes, but human was a far more dangerous and sensitive thing to talk about killing. This was going to go badly if he continued and if she decided to open her mouth to argue. She kept every thought to herself to give him time to explain, the rain pouring around them, fading into a chill as the sun began to go down behind the dark, angry clouds. By now, the city seemed to be emptying, the raiding parties heading towards the ships with everything they could carry. Lea imagined that would be quite a lot given how large they seemed to be.

But the priestess listened on, focusing on the man's words, curious as to where this would actually go and what point he was hoping to make with her. It came to a close on a happy note, if there was one, where he told her she wasn't being forced to leave what she had grown up with. The last familiar piece of her city she was able to hold on to. At least he was giving her that. She'd have to thank him later after she had a chance to argue in response.

"A fish and a human are two very different things," she began, taking her arms in her hands to attempt to cut back on the chill of the wind and rain. The rest of her clothing were soaked and no longer proper for her position. Not to mention, they were probably ruined beyond repair. She'd have to leave those behind now.

"They do such a thing to survive. Because they do not know better. My city... what has Trept done to you? Have we ever attacked you? Have we come to your home, raid your city, steal your lives? You are no better than that osprey." She gave a quick wave of her hand towards the sky, only for a flash and clap to follow the gesture. She drew her arm back against her body and looked up, shaking at not only the coincidence but the wind. Flames flew from one of the buildings into the next, lighting up the tavern Lea had just recently been pinned to. Her eyes quickly turned towards the building before drawing away then settling back on Vallios. Despite the pain racking her body, she continued to push forward, refusing to give up her position until the man dragged her away from it, physically or verbally. "But while the birds of prey take what they need to survive, you take so much more. You take what you need and burn the rest. You're m-much worse than the bird."

She shook again, tightening her grip before raising her eyes again. "Good Goddess, what have I done to deserve this?" She didn't mean to interrupt their conversation, but she wanted this torture to stop as quickly as possible. She just wanted to get warm, find those left in her city and attempt to fix what was left. "Please! Goddess, please let me be!"
 
"So what you are saying is that one life is more valuable than another. The life of a fish cannot be compared to the life of a human. Understandable. Following that line of thought it is acceptable for one town of Southernbloods to die if such predation helps provide for the thousands of lives of my Tribe. We are most definitely the Osprey. You are correct in that statement and I am honored by it."

The words were meant to bait Lea into speaking more. This was what was necessary for the lesson to be understood. Adapting to a new life meant engaging it, both fighting and accepting it. It was impossible to accept that which you did not understand and the only way to understand was to have such concepts mapped out and then experience them. This was good, this conversation was a valuable scaffold and Vallios was glad for every word. The more she fought it, the more he could explain. As long as he kept her talking, kept her thinking there could be dialogue and discussion.

"This Land of Plenty is a land that provides. It is a land of bounty and prosperity. Even the harshest of winters and worst of blights provide more food than five seasons in the North."

As if to prove his point Vallios reached out and plucked a peach from a nearby tree and bit into it, savoring the way it gave beneath his teeth and the juice that flowed forth. The Baarskor made a point to leave trees and all other natural fixtures standing. Their destruction only reached out to that which was shaped by the hand of man. A fruit-tree knew it's place and would willingly yield what it could with no struggle or fight. There was no need to barter or battle with such a noble life. Even more remarkable was the fact that Vallios strode to the charred rubble of a nearby building and ventured inside. In silence he dug, placing the pit of the peach into the small pocket before covering it with moist ash to nourish the seed, ensuring life would grow anew.

"We do not have these lovely fruits in the North. The North is a land of ice and death. It kills all that is soft and pleasant and leaves the husk for carrion birds. The soil is cracked and frozen year round. Even during Midsummer the dirt and gravel crunches icily beneath your feet. Very few crops and grains grow and even fewer fruit can be found. As the Osprey comes down from the sky to take from the mother ocean, we come from the North to harvest the Land of Plenty. Our ships are our scythe, these villages the wheat."

It was then that Vallios stepped back out into the road. The rain had picked up harder than before, driving against the Earth with enough force to create great splashes upon impact. Vallios wordlessly settled his cloak around Lea's shoulders, cinching it shut about her waist with his belt. The Baarskor knew well the dangers of cold, knew how fast it could kill...And Vallios had no intentions of killing Lea. Mjarrla's legacy rested on her shoulders alone. Lea could deny it as vehemently as she wished and the others would fight the decision until they were blue in the face and weary of body, but Vallios knew the truth. Lea was Baarskor now, law and fate both held accord over this matter. If she was not meant for this path she would have turned Mjarrla away, she would have pointed out to her cowering flock that the two warriors had been in no condition to fight. Lea's actions created this path and now it was her duty, her destiny to walk it.

"Yet the unforgiving, ruthless North is our home. It will not feed us, so we feed ourselves. The Land of Plenty caters to you Southernbloods as a mother would. We must prove ourselves worthy of the North every day of our lives. We bring back what cannot be found in the North to ensure our strength lives on, to make sure we can prove our worth. But we do not begrudge the North for such conditions or for the lives it takes as toll, for it is the North that saved us. Do you know where the Baarskor are originally from?"
 
Lea recognized the look on his face and the way he bit into the peach all too well. The first time she tasted such a fruit was when she moved into Trept so many years ago. In her home city, she never remembered seeing trees like that. Her first memory of them was a year after she came into the city when she was only six years old. The sweet taste, the nectar escaping from the corners of her mouth... it was hard to forget such a feeling. This she could relate to, which amazed her in its own way.

Her true home had to deal with their own harsh winters, but not close enough to the Baarskor land to get bundled up in their version of a harsh winter. That was one reason why Lea was sent out in the winter to find stragglers; she could deal with the cold better than others if she had the proper clothing and equipment. She was quick to take up that duty, knowing that she would be assisting her new home as soon as she became old enough to do such a job. Several years after moving in, when she reached the solid age of fourteen, she was sent out with the first searching party to complete her new mission. She could understand every word he said about devastating winters and loosing the weaker in a city.

When the warrior entered the building, the red head drew back, almost shocked to see that he was doing such a thing. That building had only recently been extinguished, thanks to the rain, yet he was walking in as if the building was still open and offering its wares to him. The gentle care that he too with the seed proved that maybe deep down, he did care of life. Lea quickly shook that feeling away when she looked at the building he had planted it in. A school of all things. She was disgusted by the idea, but impressed with the Goddess. She worked in the strangest of ways some times. Perhaps this was a sign to her?

The girl's aching body tensed once again as Vallios returned to the empty space beside her. She visibly winced as he moved again, only to pause at the warm feeling quickly surrounding and closing around her. She broke her fingers away from her arms to wrap them around the top of the cloak, pulling it that much closer to her, even daring to bury her face into the warmth. It smelt of battle... but also male. She was used to the remaining smell of battle thanks to everyone who traveled through the city, but this sort of smell was new. Steel... leather... cold... It was all new to her, but more importantly, it was the warmth she was attracted to. Lea took a moment to herself to warm up the best she could at that moment, using the remains of the man's lingering heat to warm herself before lifting her head, this time looking to the man beside her.

"I was born in the north," she informed him, taking this chance to take the bait and continue to speak. There was something she wanted to get across first before she answered his question. "I was born in Vertfey over twenty years ago. Back when braving the cold of winter was what we did. I understand your people's dilemma. Not as harsh but... I understand it." Perhaps things in the North were worse than she had ever heard about. That was certainly how he was describing it at least. But she shook her head and moved on. "I never heard the stories... even from our own elders. They were too busy defending us from yours." They spread the history, but many of the tales weren't passed on as often as they were in the past, thanks to their brutal attacks and the will to live.
 
"Perhaps your Elders do not remember. We Baarskor remember because we have to. If we forget the lessons of the past we are doomed to relearn them. Our ships are etched and painted with the past. We honor the Spirits and recall the battles. We remember the time of Five Brothers. We remember the Dying Days. We remember the Night of a Thousand Torches."

The hounds fell silently in tow, spreading out around Vallios and Lea in a formation that had been taught to them their entire lives. No matter how slow or fast the two walked, the hounds instinctively maintained the same distance, their heads on a swivel searching for ambushes. Having the hounds on guard allowed Vallios to focus on retelling important history rather than worry about any desperate attempts at vengeance from an unseen threat. Vallios was not surprised to hear that Lea had not been told of matters long past. The time of Five Brothers was well over a thousand years ago. There was no reason for the descendants of the victors of that horrible war to remember what had transpired. What was spoken next would likely be a shock to Lea, so Vallios had to make sure to carefully structure it lest it seem a madman's tale.

"Long ago the Land of Plenty stood united as one nation, one empire ruled by five brothers. Your people may remember it as a golden age of art and prosperity. I'm sure you have songs of the Golden City and stories about the Lantern Tower and it's glorious spark, a light so bright the Golden City never truly knew darkness. But I'm equally sure you have no stories of the greed and war that ended such an age. Our ancestors spent so long in this cornucopia, cradled in it's safety that they forgot how to hunt, forgot how to fight...They forgot how to survive. Their days were spent in celebration and they lost themselves in art and dance. Even the lowest of farmers had devised ways to water his own field with little effort. Such opulence, such weakness could only go so long without being exploited. The Brothers each saw a land that needed only one ruler, not five. And so they brought war and death from coast to coast, scattering suffering like seeds to the wind. "

Vallios paused and retrieved something from one of the pouches that was strung about his waist. It was a pendant of wrought iron strung by catgut, astounding in it's detail and craftsmanship. On the front five men were detailed standing before a massive tower, on it's back was a bear rampant against what could only be the tundra. The necklace had belonged to Mjarrla, Vallios retrieving it as a keepsake to honor the life she had outside the battlefield. Looking at the pendant brought memories flooding back to Vallios, memories of nights of song and drink passed in front of a hearth. Vallios pressed it into Lea's hand for her to inspect, hoping the piece would help her absorb his words better. This history was vital to her understanding what was to come. This story explained what it meant to be Baarskor. It was told and elaborated upon to Baarskor children as a reminder of what ruin complacency brought.

"Tinkers, musicians, poets, dancers, craftsmen and lovers...The Baarskor were all of these things before the five brothers brought war to this Land of Plenty. My ancestors were the ones who had been first to forget the sword, to close themselves off to the Heart of the Wild. They were not one people, they came from all corners of this realm, united by the fact that there was nothing left. So many were displaced that an army of the forsaken and war-torn formed. An army without discipline or steel, only desperation. But we did not battle with our brothers...We took what ships and food we could scavenge and set sail. My ancestors knew not where they were going, they just knew Erronar's hand would guide them somewhere. Many were lost on the voyage, mother ocean taking ships innumerable as recompense for the survivors' passage. Wave and wind brought us to the North, took us from death at sea to perish on the tundra..."

The ships were finally in sight. Long loading ramps had been assembled and set down, all of Trept's food, livestock and valuables being sorted and loaded into the ships. The Baarskor even took lumber and metal, anything of salvageable size and possible use was taken. Wolves could not pick a hare's bones cleaner if they tried. Such expertise in the art of pillaging came from literally hundreds of years of experience. Generation upon generation of raiders, their knowledge growing with every assault. What would happen if the Baarskor ever decided to abandon the North and reclaim the Land of Plenty?

"There is no way to know just how many souls survived the exodus. The last time the tribes gathered for territorial claims we counted twenty thousand heads. Five thousand of which were of Baarskor blood. But that is jumping too far ahead. When my ancestors landed in the North their numbers were nearly spent, with more dying by the day. We were lost until the Wildkin reminded us of the Heart of the Wild. The Wildkin taught us to hunt again, showed us what seeds would grow and how to coerce the tundra into providing grain. It was the Wildkin that introduced the Baarskor to Elder Ursa. It was Elder Ursa that taught us strengh and courage. The Wildkin saw how we learned from Elder Ursa and gave my tribe the name Baarskor, "Bear-Heart" in the Eldertongue. Then Elder Ursa allowed us into his caves so we could make steel and quarry stone. With steel, stone, sweat and blood we built Vaersk, our home and stronghold. The North however could not yield enough to sustain it's new children and so Elder Ursa taught us to read the stars so we could find our way back to the Land of Plenty to hunt and harvest."
 
Lea hadn't noticed they had started to move until it was too late. She was entranced by the man's story and the new warmth she had wrapped around her. She didn't notice her aching muscles which began to rebel against her with each step, but she pushed forward anyway refusing to give herself up to the dogs that were circling around them. No one from her city was around to ambush them, so the walk would have been peaceful. Considering where they were walking...

When she was offered a look at the pendent, a hand worked its way out of the cloak to look at the iron piece, scanning it carefully, but being sure not to remove the cord from Vallios' hand. It certainly matched what he was describing in the story and the girl released it again, only to follow the warrior on, lost in his story. Suddenly, things were beginning to fall into place. Some were more obvious than other reasons, but now it made sense as to why they came down from the North every year to raid. It didn't make it acceptable in her mind, but she understood far better. And she was saddened that her elders didn't know the tale. If they had, perhaps things could have gone easier in the past? Mistakes could be repaired and paid back through supplies and agreements instead of flame and blood. It seemed to be too late now, but if... what if... that's all the world was made up of now; a large list of 'what ifs' and possibilities that could never come again.

Finally, the girl lifted her eyes to what was in front of her. She had reached the docks, a path she had walked hundreds of times in her life, but this time it felt so different. Instead of awestruck by the ships, fear began to set over her again. Vallios had claimed she was now a part of them, but it was only a ritual. Only a few cuts and some dirt. How did that suddenly make her a member of their tribe? Worry began to set in as she looked over the ships, her knees straining against the idea of holding her up. Out of the corner of her eye, she caught the sight of several items from her father's home, including many of the animals he was struggling to raise. Her blue-tainted lips parted as she softly gasped at the sight of something so familiar being brought back with them to their home. She wanted to struggle and fight with the man, to run and grab all she could just to get it out of their hands... but the crack of lightening forced her to wince and fall back into her place. The Goddess was trying to tell her something. Signs always tricked her, but she promised several days ago to follow them and work to read them.

Maybe she was understanding enough to speak up... "Much like a mother bear finding food before hibernation... you come searching for your own. So you can survive another year." Her voice faded away as her hazel eyes began to scan the ships in front of her again. "My mother used to tell me of the bears. I may not remember much of her, but I know her voice in my dreams. She told me they would risk their lives to protect their young, if needed. And that..." Again, her voice faded. This time, her eyes turned to the warrior beside her. He stood a good ten inches above her and was easily twice as large as him, but Lea was standing her ground. Somehow, despite the beating she had taken. She hesitated now that she realized how close she was to the brute and his ships. She had practically given herself over to him, wrapped in his own cloak.

"That they would be there to help. As a blessing in your most desperate of times... Just be weary of their teeth..." Speaking of her mother in such a way and to repeat her words to another living person sent another chill down the girl's back. She pulled the cloak closer to her body, hugging it for the remains of the warmth she knew it had somewhere. Another few tears came down her cheeks, trailing over the fresh wounds, adding bits of a sting to their recovery. But she didn't flinch this time. Her mind was slowly fading elsewhere before she remembered what was more important.

She was standing in the mouth of her enemy. Only the Goddess could protect her now.
 
"Your mother seems like she was a wise woman."

Nobody bemoaned or berated Vallios as he lead Lea up the ramp and onto the Flagship of the raiding fleet. As Baarskor champion he was awarded certain privileges, such as being exempt from the labors of loading and unloading. Beyond that the entire raiding party knew of the loss that was settled firmly on the man's shoulders. The little history lesson ended as Vallios stepped onto the embarking ramp. A lump had formed in Vallios' throat as Mjarrla's passing sank deeper into his consciousness. Walking with her at his side had become so natural it was almost mechanical, Vallios had become accustomed to her weight against his bicep as the two ascended onto the ship. That horrible numbness spread from the pit of Vallios' stomach out to his extremities with every step, returning stronger than ever before. Again his ears buzzed with that strange emptiness as sorrow gripped his mind. Was this what grieving truly felt like? Did it come at you in waves like the surf pounding against a distended pier?

Eleven Skycallers were gathered around Mjarrla's body which had been laid reverently out on sheets of white silk. Her armor and under clothing had been stripped away, leaving her as naked as the day she was born. Mjarrla's shield had been fastened to her arm once more, her bladebreaker laid carefully across her chest. The departed warrior's armor was piled neatly behind her head, forming a pillow of sorts so that she was laying in such a way that made death appear to be not but peaceful sleep. Vallios stepped forward and knelt beside Mjarrla, both of his large, long fingered hands curling around her right hand. Vallios brought Mjarrla's fingers to his lips and gave a gentle kiss before he looked down at her face. The Skycallers continued their low chanting, maintaining the scared rhythms of a warrior's funeral rites. They would continue to chant until she had been properly sent off, given the burial any warrior or maiden lost on a raid was given on the voyage home.

"Old friend, I'm sure your Mother has already met you with open arms and eyes of pride. But guide me, for now I am spear without shield..."

Those last words barely a desperate whisper, sorrow and uncertainty cracking the warrior's otherwise steadfast voice. The Skycallers were too lost in their chanting to have noticed them, but Lea would have surely heard them. It was obvious that Vallios' mourning was raw and deep. He suffered more from Mjarrla's hurts than Mjarrla herself had while enduring them. From the day a Baarskor male picked up the sword he was trained and taught to fight with a Maiden. The male fighting style was brazen and reckless, entirely offensive. Shieldmaidens were trained to be defensive, to be the bulwark that kept the men alive through their savagery. The knowledge that he was once again Unbound made Vallios feel like half a man. It felt as if the gods had ripped away his roots and left his leaves to drift helplessly on the winds.

There was no where to run now and hopefully Lea realized it. Wandering would be dangerous and foolish for the young priestess now that she was in the belly of the beast. Lea's actions held meaning in Vallios' eyes. To the rest of the tribe she was just another spoil to be divvied out, a pleasure slave awaiting assignment to a master. The loading had finished and Baarskor were filing onto the ships. Eventually the boarding ramps were pulled up and the ships pushed off, embarking on the journey home. Heavy, thudding footsteps shook the wooden planks of the bow as Darovar made his way over to Vallios.

The Baarskor Chieftain was a mountain of a man, standing at six feet and eight inches tall. Darovar's build was stout but solid, a wall of corded muscle and tough sinew. Black hair and beard with eyes that held the blue of the ocean. If the man had been dressed in garments of silk and a courtly robe he could have passed for a king. Darovar's voice was a rumbling tone reminiscent of shifting earth.

"Vallios, it's time. She must be given to the sea."
 
The girl couldn't have responded to his compliment if she had wanted to. They were moving closer to the ships by the second and her stomach was beginning to rebel against her again, upset at its lack of contents and the amount her nerves were growing. There was a slight hesitation from the land tied woman at the end of the ramp, but from the corner of her eye, she could see men approaching with another load for the ship and she knew better than to get in their way. She followed the leader up the ramp and, for the first time in her life, stepped onto a ship. She could feel the power of the seat rocking it back and forth, not to mention each time a new weight was carried onto the ship. It rocked her nerves and slowly began to bother her. But she remained close to Vallios, enough to stick with him, but give him space. Especially to where she could see him heading.

Lea stopped feet behind the warrior, frightened to get too close to her. Last time, her life was at risk for just saying her name. She didn't want to see what would happen if she got too close. Instead, she found the nearest railing and approached it, still without earshot of the man the the mages around her. It took the girl a second to realize who the Skycallers might have been, but they were playing the role of what she knew to be priests, so that was her best and only guess as to what they were. It seemed right enough in her mind. Turning back around to give Vallios the privacy he deserved, the young priestess leaned on the railing, looking over the edge and the sea rolling against the ship below her. She knew the ocean was clear, but this was almost unbelievably so. Not even from the cliffs could she get this good of a view into the water.

Her eyes followed along the railing, towards the back of the ship which seemed to stretch on further than she thought it would have. They seemed to be even larger now that she was on one compared to looking at one from the shore. And the mast... Her hazel eyes seemed to have a new light in them as they ran up the towering mast, looking over the rolled sail waiting above the ship. When she heard the withdraw of the planks, her attention snapped to the openings in the rails before turning back towards her home. Fire had claimed so much of the land there, leaving only the temple standing and untouched. She could almost hear the cries of women as they left the Baron's home to find their husbands and sons dead in the streets, or worse. Some may still by dying.

Her breath caught in her throat at a solid cry from inside the tattered walls. A haunting chill fell over her body, her hand snapping to cover her lips, eyes squeezing shut until she saw white stars. The cries faded, replaced by the solid thump of footsteps and the booming voice of the Chieftain. Lea turned to look at not only her 'host', but the second man now.

She watched their brief exchange before leaning against the railing, using it to catch herself long enough to keep herself up. They were about to give the warrior a proper sea burial, not to mention she had to be alert of the prying eyes she felt looking her over from a distance. There was no time to think. She needed to show respect for the dead, just as every priestess did, from either side all on top of watching out for her own back. That may be harder than she thought, but she wasn't ready to push such a thing on Vallios. Despite him being the one to take her on board. He had far more important things to deal with. His own grief, feelings, acceptance of her passing... it would all be difficult, Lea could see it coming.
 
"Brothers, Maidens! Kneel now and think of Mjarrla as she is given back to the seas she spent her life sailing. Remember her life, but more importantly remember that much like hers, all of your lives will some day end. I hope you face your end with the same boundless courage Mjarrla fought to her end with."

Slowly Vallios stripped himself of his own trappings, casting down his armor and then clothing. Never again would Vallios wear that armor. A new set would be forged for him, the garb of the unbound. Naked, he stood on shaking legs with Mjarrla in his arms. Every step felt as if it were a mile long, the railings an eternity away. Vallios cradled Mjarrla's body close to his chest as he walked with a back straight and proud. There was no singing now, just complete silence as all eyes on the ship watched Vallios.

The Baarskor champion stepped up onto the railing and waited silently as the Skycallers stepped forward and began to paint his body with a mixture of ink and Trept's ashes. Next a rope was tied about Vallios' waist, a spiritual and physical anchor to remind body and soul of where it was still tethered. What came next would certainly be a shock to Lea, but the Baarskor knew it was coming. The plunge was part of a funeral for those who were bound. One last breath and then Vallios fell backwards, plummeting from the railing of the ship and down into the cold depths below.

The two hit the water together, Vallios still clutching Mjarrla to him as angry waves dragged them down. The symbolism such an action was clear; Warrior and Maiden walked and fought together in life. The survivor owed it to the departed to take those first steps into the afterlife together, even if they would be returning to the world of the living.

All eleven Skycallers growled and strained with the effort of holding onto the rope that kept their champion from being claimed by the churning, tossing seas. Most warriors released their maidens upon making contact with the water, but Vallios had done something unexpected. Whether he was lost in the clutches of grief or dedicated to the faith, Vallios was actually kicking and working, carrying Mjarrla down as far as he could. Inch by inch the skycallers were being dragged across the deck and towards the railing. By the gods he was strong! But would his strength end up being his death?

Darovar stepped in, grabbing the rope with both hands. Slowly the combined efforts of the Baarskor chieftain and the Skycallers yielded results, the rope steadily coiling at their feet as they dredged Vallios up from the depths. With every muscle in Vallios' body he fought to return to the sea, to see Mjarrla safely to her final rest. It was as if the man was possessed, lashing out and grabbing at whatever he could, pushing relentlessly onward. Eventually however even the Baarskor Champion succumbed to the cold, losing consciousness as hypothermia began to sit in.

Eventually Vallios was hauled up onto the deck and laid out on his back. One of the Skycallers bent down and began to attempt resuscitation, doing their best to clear the warrior's lungs of water.

"Stay with us, Champion. The Baarskorr cannot afford to lose you."
 
As the others knelt, so did Lea. It hurt, but she followed along. The last thing she wanted was to stand out in the crowd. Her eyes fell to the deck of the ship for most of the ceremony until it sounded to be safe to look up. When she did, Vallios had stripped himself his every inch of clothing he had and was already on his way to lift Mjarrla. She dropped them again and closed her eyes out of pure respect for what the man was doing. After the footsteps faded again, she lifted her hazel gaze and watched the ceremony as it continued. It was odd how silent it was now, but Lea still kept her eyes glued to the man and the woman in his arms. And seconds later, he fell over the railing.

Her breath caught again, but she didn't move. Her eyes grew as she heard the man tumble into the water below and waited, sitting back ever so slightly to keep herself down and out of sight. The struggle played on but she had no part in it. There was no way she could even hope to attempt to lift the man up. Eventually the warriors brought him back, but it seemed to be just in time. If he was down just a moment longer, he may not even be breathing.

This though, was a common thing to see. Some stupid guard daring another to dive into the ice water, or water in general, she supposed, and nearly dying. It was almost sad how common it was. It didn't make it any less dangerous or serious though. After two attempts from the Skycallers, Lea dared to make a move, removing the belt around her waist and the cloak over her shoulders. It may have been soaked on the outside from the rain, but the inside was still warm enough to make this work. Not to mention, if this man died, who knows what would happen to her... her current outfit may become a permanent thing, if she got clothes at all. Either way, she quickly worked her way up to the warrior, tossed the cloak over him to cover as much of him as she could. When it came to hypothermia, the key was gentle movements and keeping the victim warm. Slow at first, but bumping up the temperature as time went on.

"I need more cloaks," she told the closest man. He was breathing, but he was still very cold. Yes, this would be just like dealing with one of the city guards. Only bigger. Her gaze moved to the Skycaller she had directed, fully expecting them to refuse to listen. And she was ready for that. "Get me cloaks! Blankets, cloaks." She pointed towards a nearby box she knew had something helpful in it. "And body heat." She turned her attention towards several of the other warriors. "Come closer. He needs to be warmed up before we can move him to a better area."

And with that command in place, she looked back over the warrior in front of her, her voice dropping to a mutter. "Good Goddess, protect this man. Do not let him pass so soon. Work against his wish. Let him live so he may serve you again..."
 
Coughs and spasms rocked Vallios' body as the water cleared his lungs. Teeth chattered together as Vallios continued to shudder and convulse. But slowly the shivering came to a stop, those topaz orbs sliding gradually open...Open to clear skies. The seas had calmed, the storm the Baarskor had created had finally exhausted it's fury. The Baarskor champion seemed to be bouncing back quickly thanks to Lea's quick actions. Eventually Vallios managed to stand, making his way slowly over to the railing. Silently he stared at the ocean below, doing his best to hang on to the memories of Mjarrla floating down into the dark of the abyss, drifting off to her final rest.

"That matter is settled. Now comes the question of the pretty little thing in our Champion's cloak. Who gets her?"

The words brought Vallios back to reality. Snarling Vallios swung around and stepped in front of Lea, both of his hands curled into tight fists. A few chuckles ran through the crowd at Vallios' reaction. Obviously he figured Lea was his by rights, given the circumstances. The words that followed however shocked the crowd into silence. Well, mostly silence. Murmurs of dissonance ran throughout the gathering at words that seemed sacrilege. What kind of madness would drive a man to suggest the words that came from Vallios' lips?

"She is no pleasure slave. She will be trained as a Maiden."

The man who had spoke up, the very man that had executed Lea's father began to laugh. The laughter grew into guffaws that shook his entire body. Clearly Vallios had lost his mind! An outsider, a maiden? THIS outsider, a maiden? Somebody else cut in though, pointing at Lea's face with an angry hand. It was a woman's voice, shouting indignantly. The cuts Vallios had made on Lea's cheeks were some of the most important scarification possible. They were given only to those who had endured great hardship and proven themselves to be true survivors. This woman had proven herself nothing but a coward. She had even been so crass as to refuse to sing for Mjarrla during the sending. She could never be Baarskor, she was barely fit to be a pleasure slave!

"She bears Eto. Who dared give her such sacred markings? She is a Southernblood, weak and worthless. This action disgraces every other person who bears sacred scars!"

Rage burned in Vallios' eyes as laughter and indignation mingled and ran throughout the crowd. The situation was escalating swiftly, Vallios growing more enraged by the second. Those balled fists were shaking now as the anger became almost impossible to control. Darovar stepped forward, raising his hand and then closing it into a fist, motioning for silence. Step by step Darovar moved to confront Vallios, reaching out to place a consoling hand on his shoulder. It was always hard dealing with the newly Unbound. The threads of a Maiden and her Warrior were tightly woven, beyond that of even the closest souls. Their survival and prosperity depended completely on each other. It was the kind of bond that almost created dependency.

"Old friend, I know Mjarrla's passing weighs heavy on your soul. But what you are suggesting is madness. It is ridiculous even!"

Vallios' response to Darovar's statement was severe. Vallios knelt down to his discarded clothing and retrieved a small chunk of white chalk from one of the belt pouches. Vallios stood and looked Darovar straight into the eyes...Then threw the chalk at the Chieftain's feet. There was no reasoning with Vallios, no dissuading him from the seemingly destructive path he'd embarked on. Darovar had seen this look in a man before. It was the look of a man who had his sights set on death's scythe. Before Vallios spoke Darovar knew what would follow, and a deep sadness filled the Baarskor chieftain's eyes. He could remember the day Vallios was born as if it was yesterday. He remembered the raid that took Vallios' father, mother, and both of his brothers...The raid that gave him that impressive scar. After that raid Darovar had taken Vallios in as a son, caring for the boy until the day he'd become a man. Darovar remembered the pride that had swelled up in his breast when Vallios rose to become Champion of their people. So much glory and things had come to this.

"Daravor Eando'Simar. Draw the circle. Your words dishonor the dead and I will not allow it. Draw the circle and this matter will be settled without steel."

Was this actually happening? Had Vallios just challenged Darovar to combat in the Ring of Sorrows...Right here on the ship? Not even a whisper came from the crowd, every man and woman holding their breath. The Skycallers were frozen stock still, looking around at each other in complete shock. One by one their gazes swiveled to the tribe's High Shaman, pleading for some kind of intervention. The High Shaman merely stood and watched, wondering how Darovar reacted. All parties involved were technically right, each side arguing a different shade of the same grey area. It was best for now to just observe and allow things to run their course.
 
Once the man was on his feet, Lea knew she could back off. They had to have healers on there who could take care of him now that he was stable again. But for people who lived in the frozen ocean, she was surprised they waited so long to wrap him up. Either way, he was safe now, as long as they kept him away from the edge of the ship... She took the cloak back to wrap around her, seeming to ignore the bit of dampness inside of it in favour of the bit of warmth it could produce for her body. Anything was better than what she had on at that moment, she figured.

And then the argument begun. Words flew between man and man, man and woman before finally settling down to man and Chief. Lea could feel the air around the ship tensing as time went on, aggravation in all on board rising for whatever reason. Including her own. She wanted to sit down and try to rest. Her body ached even more now that she had gone down to her knees and back up. She was feeling as if she had lost everything, forced to stay alive with the haunting memory of those she lost and left behind. But no one would take pity on her like she was on these warriors. Her pity may not mean much, but she still had the feeling.

Vallios needed to rest as well to make sure he was fully released from the sea's icy grasp. Instead, they chose to argue about who was going to get her. Not an ideal conversation, but she was beyond grateful when the grief-stricken warrior spoke up to make her a Maiden. It was certainly better than a pleasure slave. The idea of that made her shiver. She recognized the man who was speaking right away and knew he wasn't about to let this up any time soon. If he was disgusted at the idea of her speaking Mjarrla's name, this would make him loose his dinner. But Vallios continued to insist, refusing to let up on his idea. Lea didn't look a thing like any of the other Maidens on the ship. She was weak compared to them and would probably break after the first hit. There was training yes, but she wasn't built like the rest of them. This would be much harder for her to do, if this idea was accepted. That didn't mean she wasn't going to stand up for herself and argue though.

When the chalk was dropped, she could feel the air change again. This had to be stopped. Again, she stepped forward, this time daring to step between the two warring men. She was taking the mother bear head on apparently... not going to be good.

"Please, you must stop this." The demand in her voice was that of a Baron's in her home country, an arm spread open handed towards each of the men. She knew what she was about to say and no one, unless they wrestled her and broke her that much more, was going to stop her. She only hoped they would listen. "You have already lost one warrior today. You do not need to loose another." Her eyes turned from Vallios to Darovar, her eyes meeting his before turning back to her host. "There is no need to argue over this now. In Trept, we take a day for peace after a death. Certainly after a guard's from battle. This does not need to be settled now. I know there is at least several hours between here and your home. Take that time to think." She looked towards the Chief. "Both of you. But until then..."

She let her arms drop slowly before turning towards Vallios again. "I did all that I could to try to save your Maiden. I apologize from the deepest part of my heart that I could not do more. But you owe me nothing. If anything, I owe you for saving my life. And you already have me on this boat. There's no escaping unless I want to pass in the frozen sea." She took half a second to gain the bit of courage she would need to send this next part past her lips. The idea made her sick, but it was better than being auctioned off to the highest bidder. She wished with all of her might that the man wouldn't take advantage of her and actually make her behave as a slave would.

"Take me as your... pleasure slave. For now. I do not know how your tribe works, but perhaps your Elders, after you explain what went on, could give me a trial of some sort. A way to prove myself as more than just a slave for another. And if they do not, and if you aren't satisfied with having me around, then give me away." She looked between the two men again, trying to make one final point, the spirit within her flaring in her eyes. "Take a chance to morn properly before you loose another warrior."
 
"The girl speaks with wisdom, Darovar. Beyond that, Vallios stands upon the firmest ground of any here in regards to this prize's fate. It has been established that she was the only other person besides Vallios present when Mjarrla passed. The laws of transference are quite clear on this matter. Mjarrla's spirit will live on in this young woman and guide her down the path she is clearly fated to walk. The woman will be a Shieldmaiden or succumb to the frosts trying. To declare this woman a pleasure slave would dishonor Mjarrla and every other maiden that has fallen before her."

The High Shaman spoke in a low, soothing voice. For a few brief moments the man's age showed through his wiry, gnarled strength. 78 winters and counting, Amnar's words held as much weight, if not more than Darovar's...Especially on matters of spirit and faith. Slowly the crowd began to disperse in shocked disbelief, many of them unable to believe what madness the tribe was coming to. Murmurs of dissent and frustration rumbled across every lip. It was quite apparent that despite the High Shaman's words, this matter was not over. A mountain of trials lay ahead of Lea, the trials of the Baarskor. She would endure the same rites, rituals and struggles that every Baarskor did...Except those born to the tribe were prepared their entire life for the path ahead of them. Lea would have nobody but herself to rely on, no strength other than her own to pull from.

Darovar sighed and walked away, leaving the chalk where it had been thrown. Vallios stood still snarling with rage, disappointed that nobody had the courage to meet his challenge. They thought him mad with grief? they thought him a fool?! Such notions only made the sting of Vallios' loss that much worse. The narrow-minded blindness of the tribe was beyond Vallios' ability to fathom. Transference was something they all knew of, every Baarskor understood the Survivor's Burden. It was Vallios' sacred duty to ensure Mjarrla's memory was properly honored...And that duty fell as squarely on Lea's shoulders. Vallios pulled the spare cloak that had been wrapped about him tight around his shoulders, clasping it shut to fend off the encroaching cold. Wordlessly he began to walk towards the stairs that lead down into the underdeck, figuring Lea would know to follow.

(Sorry it's short.)
 
While Lea was grateful the man was agreeing with her, it didn't make her feel any better. The air in the ship hadn't changed, not that she was expecting it to, but if no one was going to agree with the High Shaman, there were bigger problems in her mind. She didn't dare speak again, watching as others left the deck of the ship. For a few seconds, she felt completely alone. Vallios may have been against his people right then, but he still had people who would support at least his own cause and his own needs. Lea had the haunting feeling she was going to be on her own for quite a while now, no matter how close she got to others or how much she worked to be accepted. Did she even want to? It was a little too late now, but it was something she really had to think about before she went too far in this new world.

The rage seeping from the warrior worried her, but when he began to walk away, she didn't have much of a choice but to follow. She would be insane to stay on the top deck without him hovering around her, or vice versa. The red head kept her gaze up, looking at the collection of things on the top deck, but never once meeting the eyes of one of the brutes. Yes, they were brutes again in her eyes. No reason to see them as anything different after what they had just done. Insulting a man while he was down... that was the most cowardly thing someone could do.

But Lea was expecting to see another world beneath the top deck. She had never been on a ship of his caliber before and was very interested as to what may be in it's inner workings and where the travelers lived when away from home.
 
The Wavebreaker was the Baarskor flagship and it looked every bit the part. Now that things had quieted Lea had a chance to examine the craftsmanship of the magnificent vessel. The top deck was masterfully crafted and efficient, every board varnished with oils that preserved and protected the woods from the corrosive salts of the sea. Even in moonlight the steel clad masts gleamed like spears raised defiantly against the heavens, proud sails rippling as they caught even the softest of breezes. Lea was certainly right in her suspicion regarding what waited in the Underdecks. Baarskor warships were as much a home to the raiders that sailed them as the keep Vaersk was, if not moreso.

A pair of lacquered doors made from an exotic red wood were closed tightly shut, the same rampant bear from Mjarrla's pendant pyrographed and gilded into the doors, it's claws raised up into silver handles. Wearily Vallios opened the door and stepped inside, waiting for Lea to follow suit. The walls of the Underdeck were polished mahogany, every inch of them covered in ornate painting or detailed carving. Even the very planks of the floorboards formed mosaics and murals, each work displaying a bit of Baarskor history or legend. Every inch of the ship had been devoted to preserving lore and story, to reminding the Baarskor of their glory and strength.

The steps lead down and back at a slight incline, eventually leveling out into a surprisingly large dining hall. wide tables and long benches are arranged neatly in rows stretched almost to the walls of the chamber. Two doors waited at the end of the dining hall, one leading to a galley and larder, the other leading back to the living quarters Here and there women and men clad in gray linen tunic and breeches moved between the tables, distributing food, filling steins with mead and seeing that the warriors and maidens were properly fed and accomodated. Upon seeing Vallios settle down two of the dining servants went scuttling into the kitchen, knowing that the Champion required a proper feast. Word had already spread of the outsider at Vallios' side. The servants were delighted to see Lea however, her presence was a shining beacon of hope for those who had been taken as slaves. Perhaps some day they would be given a chance to prove themselves as more than just labor fodder.

Vallios settled down upon one of the farthest corner benches. It had been nearly 14 hours since he had ate anything besides that peach.Vallios patted a spot next to him on the bench, indicating that Lea should sit before she attracted any unwanted attention. The warrior's face fell as he looked at the carvings on the table he had chosen. The ornate pyrography was none other than Vallios' own origins and his shared tale with Mjarrla. The carving would be updated when the Wavebreaker landed to reflect Mjarrla's fall at the place where the two had first fought together.
 
The vessel was impressive, that was for sure. And even more so on the lower decks. Lea eyes turned over every detail, picking up several of them before she decided it was fare more important to follow her host rather than get to know the ship. The doors were grand enough to lead to any sort of hall she could imagine, but to think there was another level to the ship was stunning. She followed along silently, eyes scanning around the room, looking at the elaborate trim and murals lining the hall, telling some sort of story, she could tell that much. Her breath caught lightly in her chest as the man continued forward. She wasn't quiet ready to move yet, but she swore she would follow Vallios until he told her differently. And even then, depending on the situation, she may continue after him.

For now, it was only the dining hall that she had to be careful of, but next time it might just be worse. How? She didn't think about that. Her eyes passed over the servants inside as they dashed off to prepare food for the man, which stunned her slightly, but she pushed herself forward anyway. The smaller woman was careful when taking the seat, half afraid her body to crack half way down. It made it, but a sudden aching pain struck her, bringing her to double over inside of the man's cloak. She winced and held herself as still as she could manage before slowly easing herself out of the position, doing what she could to sit herself up.

Even if there was food on the table, she doubted she could bring herself to eating it. No yet, at least. It smelt amazing and after going several hours without a bite, it was about time she ate something. It would have to be light, thanks to the remains of pain and the rocking boat, but something would be better than nothing she figured. Her eyes wandered around the hall slowly, taking in bits of the artwork, despite not knowing the story behind it. It was still amazing to look at. Her eyes slowly fell to the table i front of them, which quickly answered a question she had. Vallis was a hero, that was for sure. A good enough one to get a table made about him.

After a good long silence, she thought it was better to start up some sort of conversation with the man beside her.

"Are you... a leader outside of battle as well?" she asked softly, turning her attention slowly towards Vallios. "Or just treated as such?"
 
" Outside of battle I represent the might of our tribe as Champion. I am also Huntsmaster and as such responsible for negotiating our hunting grounds at the Summit."

Vallios looked down at his own representation. The Scarred Eye was his rune, it was the symbol that would mark him in texts and carvings so long as the Baarskor told their stories. The top right and left corners of the table were marked by the Scarred Eye, an oval with a long slash through it. The top left and bottom left corners were marked by a shield etched with a harp, Mjarrla's symbol. For a few moments Vallios quietly traced his fingers along the carvings, thinking back to the memories behind those stories. The first assault on Trept came to mind, Vallios' first raid. He remembered seeing his mother and father fall gloriously as maiden and warrior, driving back a legion of guards on their own. He remembered how the desire for vengeance had burned in his chest and remembered how recklessly he had fought for the honor of his family. He also remembered the pain of a morningstar splitting his brow, feeling the spike tear it's way down to his collar bone. He remembered that same morning star crushing his femur and leaving him nearly crippled, bleeding on the ground. But most of all Mjarrla's valor as she fought against four of Trept's finest guards, holding her own as a girl of only 14 against fully grown men, protecting him as he did his best to learn how to stand using one leg and a halberd. Mjarrla quickly realized the two would be overwhelmed if she didn't get Vallios back into the fight and so she'd done something quite cunning. The young girl had locked legs with Vallios, curling her right leg around his and holding him steady so they could fight side to side, her shield and bladebreaker covering their rear and the sweeping reach of his halberd holding the front. Together they held stalwart until reinforcements arrived. It was that image, of the two warriors so entwined as they fought for their mutual survival that had been chosen to represent their fated bond, the precursor to their glorious history.

"You need to eat, even if it hurts. If your stomach rejects the food allow it to happen on the floor and then try again. Your need to learn to accept food when you can get it, no matter what the circumstance. It is the only way to survive in the Northern winter."

A feast had been laid out for Vallios. Fresh baked rolls of soft winter wheat with berry preserves, cured boar and elk, hardy sprouts, boiled potatoes and carrots along with fish caught fresh from the ocean. Enough had been brought for Lea to also eat her fill and two tankards full to the brim with strong mead had been left to wash the meal down. Vallios ate in determined silence, forcing his way through a surprising amount of food for a man who clearly had no appetite. There was no emotion in those eyes as he wolfed down his food, eyes still lingering over memories that were now torment to recall. Topaz orbs were empty and listless, the broken eyes of a lost and dejected man. This deep sorrow lingered even though the Baarskor Champion's physical strength was evident in his build and his unquenchable vitality apparent in the way color had came back to his skin so quickly after braving seas that would have killed a lesser man. Sure Vallios had survived today, but it was hard to tell if he was actually alive. These waves of grief were unbearable and maddening for Vallios, he hated himself for the way his heart so blatantly rebelled against his mind.

"My story is here on this table, written in Elder Runes..."

((I am so sorry for two short posts in a row. Work was super stressful and so my creativity is a little tapped. Better stuff tomorrow, I promise!))
 
Lea looked over the carvings again, doing what she could to take in the meaning behind them. It was a battle, most likely a raid of some sort, telling his story. He looked to be a younger man then, and injured on top of that. She ran her fingers over a few of the details, feeling them as carefully as she could. It was well made and well taken care of. She looked at the table beside her to see its story, but turned back again when the food came. There was a grand spread, plenty for the both of them, plus guests. Yet no one sat with them. The girl looked around the room at the others, noting how people seemed to be watching them, but no one was coming to join them. That seemed a bit strange, but Lea ignored it in favour of eating what was set so gracefully in front of her.

She took his suggestion to heart and broke into several items of the food, letting out a soft hum when the first of it met her tongue. At first, her stomach lurched at simply the taste, but she was careful when eating and it soon died down, appeased with the idea that it was getting filled. As the food went down, her stomach settled to a point where it was just a pain from being hit instead of anything worse. Her eyes dared to turn to Vallios and look him over as he ate, taking in a few slow breaths and pausing her actions before taking a drink. The mead was strange compared to the wine that she was used to drinking, but it wasn't at all bad. Certainly a taste she could get used to.

After a few minutes of eating, making sure that the man got enough food in him to tell her that he had recovered, Lea leaned over her plate for a moment, mixing pieces of elk in with the root vegetables to eat together. "It's a good thing to feel grief," she pointed out to him, her voice soft and low. The last thing she wanted was for people around them to hear what she was saying to the man. This was a private conversation after all and not one she wanted spread. "A perfectly human thing to do. No one should make you feel worse about yourself for doing so. Especially not after you loose someone you loved so dearly."
 
"Love is a hardly a fitting word for The Bond. Love is a soft word used by weak folk. Love is something for a summer morning. It is fragile and vulnerable. "

Was Vallios really speaking about this? Was he honestly about to blither on with his feelings like some pathetic wretch? The warrior wanted to mourn the passing of his maiden in silent contemplation, yet he found it impossible not to respond to Lea's statement. It felt as if she didn't fully comprehend just what Mjarrla, what a Maiden was to a warrior. There had been so much shared by the two, both struggles and joy that Vallios felt half a man without Mjarrla at his side.

"Baarskor start learning the forms as soon as they can walk. Every single one of my people has been trained to fight with many weapons. On our tenth winter we have learned enough to favor a weapon. It is then that paired training begins. We are taught, drilled to fight with our Maidens as one cohesive unit. Warriors the spear, Maidens the bulwark. On a Baarskor's sixteenth winter they are bound and sent out to be recognized by Elder Ursa. Mjarrla and I may as well have been bound on our fourteenth winter."


It was so strange to actually be speaking of such matters. Never before had Vallios told his story to another soul. Carvings and fireside gatherings had always done it for him while he sat silently and nodded at parts that seemed too herculean to be true. Vallios hoped Lea wouldn't ask details about the binding ceremony or the journey to Elder Ursa. Those memories were too deep, too personal to share just yet. Vallios continued, though his voice felt distant and foreign to his own ears.

"We fought together when Trept was an imperial trading fort and border-keep, defended by mercenaries and royal guards. My mother and father fell during that battle and I too was almost called back to the Golden Halls. Mjarrla fought fearlessly at my side that day, without her I would be dead...Many times beyond that she saved my life. When the Ceaseless Hunger overcame my senses she was my shield, ensuring I lived to fight another day. Without her I am Unbound...I am lost."

The last words of the story were spoken quietly but with the weight of the world itself upon them. Hopefully now Lea had a better picture of just how deep Vallios' loss was felt. The man felt like a warship without sail or oar, left to drift upon pitiless seas until mother ocean saw fit to claim it for her depths.
 
Lea's eyes turned to Vallios as he began to explain the situation. It was far more than what she thought it was, but her point still stood. The bond that the two warriors had was something that no one else could ever replace. Love was a simple word for it, but now that it had been explained, Lea agreed that it was more than that. The connection between Vallios and Mjarrla was far better, more special, and even that were light words for it. The priestess decided to give up trying to describe it and simply accept what he was explaining.

She could feel the harm in his words and could sense just how serious this situation was to him. The closest thing she could relate to was loosing her parents, but even then she wasn't sure if that would be an acceptable comparison. And she wasn't going to try to relate to it out loud in case it offended the warrior. He was in a such a state where he should just be left alone. Lea instantly felt horrible about it, about having to be lead around by an injured man. Her eyes fell back to her plate before sliding closed, letting his words settle over her with a certain understanding.

"I am deeply sorry that I could not save her," she muttered to him, hoping he would accept her apology. "I know this isn't easy for you..." She lifted her eyes to look back at him. "... I can feel that much. But if there is anything I can do, let me try. I am not useless, despite what your people may think. And I have helped to ease many others with the passing of others. You do not have to suffer entirely on your own. Others are here with you."

The woman's eyes lifted from the man, turning towards the nearest door back to the kitchen. She glanced back at Vallios then away before dropping her gaze again. "I would like to do something... make something... to honour her memory." Since the earlier incident, she knew better than to speak the woman's name. Others hadn't enjoyed her speaking Mjarrla's name and there was a good bit of doubt that Vallios wouldn't enjoy it ether. Lea would have to walk on eggshells for a long while with everything she does. "If you would accept it."
 
"I do not look forward to Anya discovering her sister has fallen. Anya will not take well to being the last of her line."

Anya was Mjarrla's elder sister and had been supposed to sail out for Trept. The battle was supposed to be her initiation as Unbound. Fever had struck Anya that year and left her bedridden, nearly crippled and so Mjarrla had been sent in Anya's place despite being two years Anya's junior. Severely weakened and left infirm by a sickness that had nearly killed her Anya had been shifted away from an active combat role and instead recruited as assistant to Minara, Lady of the Forms.

As Lady of the Forms Minara was responsible for the training of all Baarskor females in the art of combat. Anya's recovery had been a slow one, but her determination had carried her through with such distinction that Anya had been chosen to replace Minara as Lady of the Forms when Minara fell breaking Vaersk free from a neighboring tribe's siege.

Vallios knew well that Anya would have some choice words for Vallios when he returned to Vaersk. In fact, Vallios fully anticipated meeting Anya in the Ring of Sorrows...Just as Vallios had met Mjarrla's brother, Bjoll in the Ring of Sorrows the day before his binding ceremony. Bjoll had thought Vallios unworthy to fight at Mjarrla's side and had challenged him in the ring to ensure the binding never came to pass. With a heavy heart and a solemn hand Vallios had brought Bjoll's life to an abrupt end, killing the man with a halberd that had been forged by his own father's hand.

"That would be fitting and for the best. I would craft something to give to Anya, lest she begrudge you for being the one to take her sister's place."
 
Carefully, the woman nodded and began to scan the room around them. It seemed that more of Vallios' warriors had gathered inside, all getting the food that they demanded from the kitchen staff. That seemed almost... wrong, to her. But she kept her mouth shut for a good long while as her mind began to race. She had an idea, to make something in the kitchen, but that would only last so long. And Mjarrla's sister wouldn't be able to see it. This Anya... what would she like though?

Lea turned her attention back to Vallios, turning slightly on the bench so she was facing the man straight on. "What does she do in your village?" she asked. "Not a warrior, as she is not here, yes? Or she would already know... what is something that she might enjoy? And more importantly, how long do we have until we return to your home?"

The red head could craft many things, thanks to her patience with the arts, her level of concentration and her general speed with such things. She enjoyed it, so the work came easy for her and she was good at what she did. It was important for her to pick out something that Anya would enjoy, but also showed the spirit that Mjarrla held. Lea looked back down at the table at the emblem that represented the woman. Her fingers ran over it carefully, picking up the details so she could recreate it later when it mattered the most. "I'll need supplies... they should all be in what you have taken from Trept."
 
"Anya is Lady of the Forms. She trains our young girls to be Shieldmaidens. Outside of combat Anya loved hearing Mjarrla play her harp more than anything on this Earth. The two would play and sing for hours in front of Anya's hearth on cold winter nights. Sometimes I'd even join in with my lute if I had no other matters to tend to."

That emptiness in the pit of Vallios' stomach grew the more he thought on the matter. What was worse was how Vallios found a schism in his thoughts over the matter. Logic and reason told him to stop lingering in the past, to push forward without sorrow or remorse. The Baarskor needed their champion bound or unbound, they needed the might of their tribe. Vallios was the paragon of what a Baarskor should be. It was he who bore the tribe's standard during war, it was he and he alone that his comrades would look to in the darkest of hours for strength. Slowly Vallios stood and looked down at Lea. As an outsider Lea would be allowed no where near the lower decks of the ship that held the Wavecutter's share of the spoils. Anya would have to wait behind here in the Grand Hall while Vallios retrieved a portion of Mjarrla's share. Nobody would dare contest Vallios' picking through Trept's treasures on behalf of Mjarrla and so the Champion would have his pick of the finest fabrics and materials available.

"Wait here. Should anyone give you trouble...Stand your ground no matter the consequences but do not draw steel. You are Baarskor, let nobody treat you otherwise."

Respect was everything to the Baarskor, it was a currency of the most valuable sort. Vallios departed from the table without saying another word, hoping Lea would understand just how important that statement was. If Lea allowed herself to be pushed around by others she would never find a place among the Maidens. In all truth the Maidens were worse than the warriors about matters of honor, especially outsiders. Few of the men would bother harassing Lea knowing that they would have to answer to Vallios for their words. Such was not the case with the Maidens, especially those who felt that their sister-at-arms' memory was being disgraced by Lea's very presence. Vallios truly hoped Lea had the grit to withstand what was to come...The brawls, the berating and the constant distrust. Hell itself had no fury like the scorn of a Shieldmaiden.


((I am so sorry for these crappy posts. Work is murdering me. I feel super bad :( ))
 
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