Gathering allies
The afternoon sun of the Thing warms your face as you exit the Headsman's tent. The price of ship and sail hanging heavy over your head.
'That is a fair price for such a quest... but I can't help but feel like horse and sword would've been more appropriate. After all, that is the traditional price for a deed done quick.' Blackhand's musings follow you as you scan the Thing for any familiar faces. 'Perhaps the Headsman is suffering from a lack of horse and sword?'
Regardless of the reasons behind the price offered, when planning a legal killing, the first step after getting permission from the Jarl is to gather allies. Your friends and kin will be at your side, there's no doubt there, but will they be enough? They are strong, yes, but even the strongest of men can be brought low by overwhelming odds
Do you have enough bodies?
No, you suspect you don't.
'More allies is, as they say, more good.'
There, in outskirts of the Thing, is a pair of familiar faces. Haleikr and... the elephant merchant, who you now realize you don't actually know the name of.
You should go rectify that.
They eye you as you approach, a bit of wariness in their posture. They'd been talking about something — likely a business deal, all things considered — but they fall silent as you draw near.
"Hello," you offer a handshake, which they take, "I'm Halla Longstride and I've got some information that the both of you might want to hear."
They exchange glances. Haleikr offers you an arched brow as he nods. "Go on..."
"I found your brother's body and your elephant." you point to each of them in turn as they stand there, utterly stunned. A spark of excitement rises in the Elephant Merchant's eyes, only for it to be dashed aside by your trailing, "Just..."
"Just what?" Haleikr growls as he leans in close. He's not one of the most notable fighters in the valley, but he's been on a couple successful raids so he's not weak by any stretch of the imagination.
Tufts of grass rip from the ground as you meet his gaze.
"They've been turned into draugar by none other than Horra Hasvisson."
Elephant Merchant and Haleikr (Hugr (Silver-Tongue): 6x3, 5x2, 4x2, 3x1, 2x3, 1x1) 9 Successes
A beat of silence passes before the Elephant Merchant starts swearing up a storm.
"That fucking elephant has been nothing but trouble for me." The Elephant Merchant sighs as he rubs at his temples. "You're going to go kill him, right?"
"That's right," you nod.
"Haleikr?" The Elephant Merchant turns to regard his business partner. "You with me on this one?"
Haleikr's eyes are wet and tears threaten to spill down his face. A palm sees to that as his head shakes. "I just want my brother back..." His hand curls into a fist, crushing the salty droplets in his palm. His eyes burn with the fires of determination. "I will have him back, one way or another. His grave will go unfilled no longer."
"Good man!" The Elephant Merchant smiles and draws him into a hug. After a tearful, tender moment, Haleikr pulls away to go grab his weapons. The Elephant Merchant watches him leave before turning to regard you. "I know a merchant who's in town for the Thing, I'll go see if he's down for this as well."
"Oh? What's his name?"
"Torsten Twoshield." He tilts his head as your brows rise. "You know him?"
"I met him once, said he was a friend of my father's, but..." you grimace, "I thought he was kind of suspicious so I didn't say anything."
The Elephant Merchant laughs. "Yeah, that's just how Torsty is. He's the kinda guy who, no matter how innocent the topic, always ends up portraying it in the most suspicious way possible. Not intentionally, just in how he is, you know?"
You don't know, but it's as good a reason as any. "Well, you go grab him and then meet up at my father's house. You know where that is, right?" The Elephant Merchant nods so you bid him farewell.
You've got more allies to gather, after all.
And these allies... you're not especially excited to see again.
Folkmarr and Audrikr, a mixed bag if there ever was one. One the one hand, Audrikr. On the other, Folkmarr. You've missed Audrikr, as weird a thought as that is. It's a bit like he's an older brother, the kind of older brother that you just didn't have growing up.
Sten wasn't home and Eric isn't the most personable of people — always engrossed with his boats as he is. Audrikr, though? Easily falls into that slot of friendly yet goofy older brother. An uncle, perhaps — which is also something that you lacked growing up, now that you think about it.
Folkmarr, though...
Regardless, you need allies. You don't have much of a choice in the matter.
'You've been hired to do Hero's Work. Failing to complete such a task would do more than merely stain you with nid.'
Exactly.
Audrikr Fishfighter stands out of the way of an impromptu wrestling competition that's sprung up. He's leaning on his spear, his face rougher and with a few more gray hairs in his beard and hair than the last time you say him. His blue-gray eyes follow your approach.
A hand slips free from the spear to give you a light wave. "Hail, sister."
You return the wave, "Afternoon, Audrikr. How goes it?"
Glancing over at the competition, you watch as Folkmarr does his level best to emerge victorious. For a moment, you consider participating, but decide against it. You had best conserve your strength for the coming fight, anyways.
Audrikr shrugs. "Same old, same old. You did well with that trial, by the way. Though..."
You arch a brow. "Yeah?"
"I'm not entirely sure you could've lost that."
You're frowning now. "What do you mean by that? Was it rigged or something?"
"Nothing like that," he's quick to wave it off, "there was just something off about the Lawspeaker, is all. Can't put my finger on it, but there was something off about him. I was gonna track him down after the trial, but..." His shoulders rise and fall, "couldn't find him for the life of me."
"Weird." You rock on your heels as Blackhand remains suspiciously quiet.
"No kidding." Audrikr laughs, shaking his head. "Well, I'm sure you didn't come here just catch up, probably gathering people to go stab Horra, eh?"
You nod, a sly grin spreading across your face. Even if Audrikr lacks the raw power of a lot of his fellows, his intelligence should never be held in doubt. He's a smart man and he's all the more dangerous because of it.
"Well, you don't have to do any convincing of me," Audrikr says as he scratches at his beard. "But that's not the hurdle here, not at all."
Something tickles at the back of your mind. "Are... you a berserk, Audrikr?"
He winks. "I'm not not a berserk, sister."
Before you can ask any further, Folkmarr achieves victory in the contest.
"Audrikr! Were you watching?" He's flushed red and his skin has a thin coating of sweat but there's a big, broad smile on his face regardless. That smile freezes as he locks eyes with you. "...Halla."
Audrikr and Folkmarr (Hugr (Silver-Tongue): 6x2, 5x5, 4x1, 3x3, 2x1) 17 Successes
"Folkmarr." There's something off about him, something that you struggle to put your finger on.
Audrikr looks between the two of you before sighing. Reaching out, he bops Folkmarr on the head. "Go on, tell her."
"Halla," Folkmarr swallows a lump in his throat as he takes a breath, "I'm sorry for how I treated you, that was wrong of me. That was an abuse of power, an abuse of my status as Jarl, and never should have happened."
You blink as he falls silent, waiting for an answer.
That... That was unexpected.
'It has been two years. That's time enough to come to regret past actions.'
But not entirely unwelcome. You'll need some time to think on if you really forgive him, but that can come later.
"Folkmarr," you frown and he winces, "I need to think on this some, but I hear your words."
"I..." He's not happy, but that's alright. "I understand. If there's anything I can do to show you... all you need to do is ask."
"Well... there is one thing you can do for me..."
"Name it."
You do and he agrees without hesitation.
(Your relations with Folkmarr have been set to 4)
0~0~0
Gabriel chat (Hugr (Silver-Tongue): 6x3, 5x3, 4x1, 3x3, 2x2) 14 Successes
While on the way home, you pause as you hear grunts of exertion and the sound of iron parting air. Sharing an arched brow with Sten and Abjorn, you turn to go investigate the noises.
Rounding the bend, you find that it's none other than Gabriel. He's stripped to the waist, as is his wont, and he's wielding Sparrowflight in a broad myriad of different techniques.
There's something different about him, on a fundamental level. Each step he takes is even more purposeful than before, like there's simply more behind his every movement. The weight of whatever he called it, sin, is gone from his shoulders.
'See? It solved itself.'
Well, you'll have to go see for yourself to be certain of anything.
"Gabriel!" You call out to the Squire, who lets Sparrowflight touch the ground as he stands up. There's a smile on his red-flushed face as he wipes at his brow, the barest hints of a beard springing up on his cheeks.
"Halla!" He calls back, sheathing his sword as shoots a wave your way. "How was the trial?"
"Could've been better," you skid to a halt at the bottom of the hill, a grimace on your face, "we won, but we didn't get all we wanted out of it."
Gabriel frowns. "Horra's still outlawed, right?"
You grin. "We got him with a lesser outlawing, so not perfect, but a win nonetheless."
"Good, good." He nods, not super sure where to go from here. That's okay, you can cover for him.
"So, how have things been for you?" You look him up and down. "You're looking way better than before!"
He scratches at the back of his head. "Ah, well, I had a talk with Jerasmus, before he left to go wandering, and he had some words of wisdom for me... I also broke through the bottleneck I was stuck at, so that's nice." You're not super sure what that means, but he's not treating it as that big of a deal so it's probably not.
"Good!" You grin as he nods, a spark of eagerness flashing in his eyes.
"And, as a result," he taps Sparrowflight, "I'd very much like to spar with you again, sometime."
"Of course!"
(Gabriel is feeling better and is now also eagerly waiting for another spar)
0~0~0
Moving on the Sanctum
"Torsten?!"
"Steinarr!"
Mail clangs against mail as Torsten and Steinarr hug, neither having seen the other in... a very long time. You can't help but feel bad about that part, but at the same time... well, if he really wanted to see Steinarr, then Torsten should've come by himself!
...That's just an excuse and you know it.
Regardless of your actions — or, rather, inactions — Torsten Twoshield clearly knows your father. They'd served together in Miklagard, after all. Sworn blood-brothers, at that.
Torsten wields a pair of shields in combat, but these are no ordinary shields — that would be far too simply — instead of bands of mere hide or iron, steel serves as the shields' rim. Gifts from the Great King of Miklagard himself in honor of services rendered on the battlefield, or so the story goes.
Regardless, there's quite the force following you through the woods. Fourteen men — fifteen including yourself — and an eclectic mix at that.
To nobodies' surprise is Abjorn at your side. Then there's Steinarr and Torsten serving as the powerhouses, their armor clinging and clanging as they move as a unit. There's mail-clad Sten and plate-encased Gabriel — who had apparently asked Sten to look over his armor before moving out. There's Stigmar and Stigr, brothers in arms and of the womb. Tryggr and Trausti follow close behind, as they two are brothers in more ways than one.
Bringing up the rear are those who are on your side, but perhaps not with as close of ties as the rest of you. Among that number is Folkmarr, Audrikr, Haleikr, and the Elephant Merchant — whose name you still don't know, much to your well-hidden embarrassment.
Flying overhead is Aki's raven. Even if he's not able to fight properly in an enclosed space like the Sanctum, that doesn't mean he's incapable of helping in other ways. Like, for example, scouting.
So when Aki lands on your shoulder, you're expecting him to have news to share.
What you aren't expecting, however, is the news in question.
Holding a hand up, you call the column to a halt. Pressing a finger to your lips, you start to sneak through trees and greenery of the Hading.
Coming to a stop before the clearing concealing Horra's Sanctum, you watch as your hated enemy, Horra Hasvisson, stumbles into view while muttering words and half-spoken phrases. Steinarr tenses at your side, but you manage to hold him back with pleading eyes.
Horra stumbles up to the secret entrance and fishes out the key. Pressing it to the tree's knot, he casts a furtive glance over his shoulder as the tree unravels.
"Hello, father." Your eyes widen. That voice!
Blood sprays out in a crimson arc as Horra's head snaps back. He lands on the ground, a hand darting to his shattered, broken nose.
Hasvir Horrasson emerges from the Sanctum, the tree closing up behind his body. There's a cold smirk on his face as a bloody hammer hangs from his hand. His other hand holds a chisel and he's covered head-to-toe in bone dust.
Horra's eyes bulge as he blubbers, the broken nose giving him a horrible, nasally tone. "B-but yo-you're dead!"
"How wrong you are, father." He reaches down to help his father up, who shies away from his son's hand. "Come, on, let's get you home. We need to plan a way to make amends, to end this feud without any more bloodshed."
"No, no, this only ends with Steinarr dead." Horra growls, eyes darting around the clearing, searching for something to use.
"And that's the sort of thing that I'm talking about," Hasvir scoffs, gesturing wildly with the hammer. "Just..." he shakes his head as he looms over his fallen father, "you've got this incredible mind, father! You took an empty plot of land and turned it into a sprawling, expansive empire in only a handful of years, not even a decade! And yet... you're willing to throw all of that away for what? Some stupid fucking feud that you won't ever win?"
Horra climbs to his wobbly feet, his teeth gnashing together as he rises. "But you're wrong!"
"Am I?"
"My army is beneath our feet, in the sanctum you were just inside, and you tell me that I can't win?!"
"Army? What army?" Hasvir smirks and crosses his arms. "You mean the army that I just destroyed?"
Horra stumbles back, as if struck. "No... no..."
"Yes, father, yes." Hasvir tsks as he slowly walks forward.
"After everything I've done for you, this is how you repay me?!"
"Done for me?!" Hasvir roars, eyes wide with incredulity, "You raised my brothers and I as weapons, and when they couldn't live up to your impossible expectations, you cast them aside like they were nothing! You didn't even know that Knappr was taking Stronghoof out under my name!"
"When Veny hears of this..."
"Veny already knows! She's been on my side every step of the way!" He raises his arms into the sky, a triumphant smile on his face. "Face it, father, you've lost. It's over now, it's done."
"Done?" A Weight falls across the clearing as the very wind stills and every bird falls silent. Horra staggers, eyes wide with madness as he laughs and a hand snakes up to his open mouth. "Oh traitorous son of mine, I've not even begun."
He crushes a tooth between thumb and forefinger.
Nothing happens, but Horra doesn't seem surprised by that.
"Well? Was that it?" Hasvir laughs, shaking his head.
"Oh, you'll see..." Horra smiles, only for that smile to freeze as a presence falls across the clearing.
"But you won't."
Steinarr's hit his limit.
He rockets across the clearing, moving quicker than the closing of an eye. His fist swings with all the power of a father's rage, of a brother's grief.
Horra looks down in confusion at the bloody fist growing from his stomach — at his own spine held in its grasp. The fist pulls back and he falls to the ground — faceup, his clouded eyes staring uselessly at the sky.
"Just... like that? After everything?"
Steinarr raises his foot, only to pause for a single heartbeat.
"I learned my lesson in Iberia, Horra."
The foot falls.
Steinarr's boot needs some cleaning, but otherwise it's intact.
Horra's head, on the other hand, can't say nearly the same.
Steinarr spares Horra's corpse the smallest of glances before turning to Hasvir — who quickly drops the hammer and chisel. "I heard what you said, that you wanted this over. If you don't control your family, it will be."
Hasvir hurriedly nods, a shaky, shivering thing. "You'll see no quarrel from me!"
Steinarr turns to leave, only for a shrill, blood-curdling scream to rip out from the distance.
Hasvir's quick to identify it. "That's, that's Veny!"
He shoots off at a dead sprint. Steinarr watches him leave and turns to you, the question obvious in his eyes.
[ ] Follow?
[ ] Or leave?
0~0~0
Far across the Hading, in a rather large tent, is a smiling old women and an equally happy if-not-as-old man.
The Seeress wipes her brow as she drops the thin circle of rune-covered iron into the waiting mouth of a storage spirit. "And there we go, all is right in your world."
Wolfwind goes to thank her, only for the storage spirit to start to shiver and quake. Its skin falls off rotting muscle as ice cold fires ignite in its gaze. Its mouth falls open as the stench of death fills the room.
It leaps at the Seeress, only for Wolfwind to smash it out of the air. Gritted teeth and a boot stomp finish it off.
"Oh, by the Gods," the Seeress whispers as she collapses into her chair, eyes locked to the stain on the ground, "that's insidious."
0~0~0
AN: And here we are, the finale of this arc.
It's been a long time coming. Thank you everyone for being here along the way!
No moratorium. Short voting time.
