- Pronouns
- He/Him
Saxes are pretty big and you can probably use Ordstirr to extend it somewhat...that's within the range of Swordplay Tricks I'm pretty sure.
NorseQuest: Collective Edition (Group-Based Xianxia Settlement-Builder)
- Thread starter I.F. Ister
- Start date
- Original
Saxes are pretty big and you can probably use Ordstirr to extend it somewhat...that's within the range of Swordplay Tricks I'm pretty sure.
Could also just use a spear?
- Pronouns
- He/Him
That's a big downgrade when you have Swordplay 2 and no Spear skill. You're better off finding a way to use a sword.
Good point, didn't think of that.
- Location
- Many Places
So, what's the worst way to die in battle? I ask because we're fighting a Dread-Beast and I might be looking down my second death.
Bad news everyone, Ingunn Krakr, and myself all died to the Dread Beast.
Bad news everyone, Ingunn Krakr, and myself all died to the Dread Beast.
Last edited:
How Moli Was Named (Shard)
Shard
One and Many
- Location
- Malaysia
How Moli Was Named
(By Moli Spotlight)
Bring bright Yule-night light with,
Brought out me to be named.
Uninvited, unseen,
Uncle-sworn sight by self-right.
Turned, tumble and stumble;
Topple, out shouts 'Moli!'
Words spoken writes Spotlight,
Word-world seeks not unspeak.
===
Whenever people ask Moli Spotlight why he was named 'Moli', this is the answer he gives in reply. He never elaborates or attempts to explain what he means.
(By Moli Spotlight)
Bring bright Yule-night light with,
Brought out me to be named.
Uninvited, unseen,
Uncle-sworn sight by self-right.
Turned, tumble and stumble;
Topple, out shouts 'Moli!'
Words spoken writes Spotlight,
Word-world seeks not unspeak.
===
Bring bright Yule-night light with,
Brought out me to be named.
Uninvited, unseen,
Uncle-sworn sight by self-right.
Turned, tumble and stumble;
Topple, out shouts 'Moli!'
Words spoken writes Spotlight,
Word-world seeks not unspeak.
Brought out me to be named.
Uninvited, unseen,
Uncle-sworn sight by self-right.
Turned, tumble and stumble;
Topple, out shouts 'Moli!'
Words spoken writes Spotlight,
Word-world seeks not unspeak.
Whenever people ask Moli Spotlight why he was named 'Moli', this is the answer he gives in reply. He never elaborates or attempts to explain what he means.
- Location
- Mid-Atlantic
Permanent or temporary?
- Pronouns
- He/Him
All three are temporary. Bodily death only, no Fated Days here.
- Pronouns
- he/him
they died gloriously.
THOR'S CHALLENGE (CoatRackRanger)
Anja Stormeye, Ivor Name-giver, and Gefjosa Aslaugsdottir heave their tired and battered bodies back into town. They are towing behind them what looks chunks of a broken granite statue. At one point, it might have been an extremely lifelike sculpture of a monster.
They take a moment to disgorge more and more granite out of their Fylgja spaces, until, eventually, they are standing amid a small hill of high quality stone.
Gefjosa tiredly climbs the pile, takes a deep breath, completely shuts off her perception of fear and almost everyone in the gathered crowd, and begins to talk.
"The mountains beyond Rekavidr are not so untamed as they were when first we lost of Gotland washed ashore. Much of the land has been tamed and claimed, made into homes and fields and hunting grounds. The vine-choked, steaming jungles of their lower slopes have felt the tread of brave Norse soles time and time again and it was in the tread of these far-ranging wanderers that Operation Punching Thunder began!
High above the band of six, Eagle and Raven Eyes of brave Kare and crafty Krakr wove a web of far-seeing that no foe could penetrate. Ingunn of Many Forms took chimeric mein, with raptor eyes and canine nose, burrower's whiskers and softpadding paws, ranged forward forth sensing all and sensed by none! The winds themselves bore the Skydancer aloft and carried his whispered words of waiting dangers back to groundbound ears. Towards the tallest mountain he flew, and followed all others, far beneath. As the Name-Giver wove impenetrable mail of needle and thread to gird his soon siblings-forged-in-blood-of-battle, it was brave (and beautiful and humble and awesome) Anja of the Giantbone who led them all! In her heart beat the desire to meet the Maker of Thunder and make her mettle known!
Also, Gefjosa, who had packed snacks, was there.
Up, up, and up! Through the mist-smocked hills, past jungle crags, and into the barren twisted scree they marched! Even in places tamed, the heart of the wild may still beat and into this towering heart of darkness the heroes travelled! All lurking foes they slipped, through senses sharp and footfalls careful, save for the cleverest of all.
On the lonesome path, with deathsome drop on one side and unyielding stone the other, from hiding in the rocks above, peered cat-slit eyes of gemstone hue and cruelest depths. From all around came the hiss of its venom filled stingers, three in number of ready to fell the same of our heroes' count. A perfect predator, perfectly placed, patiently perched, and poised to bring ruin at the slightest misstep. All save one readied their souls and swords to do battle.
It was the one saved who saved all. Clever Ivor, foxlike in soul and guile, had seen to the heart of this thing. Though larger than vessels that fled fallen Gotland and bedecked with three venoms potent enough for to serve equal stead in the Trickster's punishment, that which has the eyes of a cat has its soul as well. And among them the Norns had decreed would be one who had what which no cat may resist. From his soul the Name-Giver spun finest thread, fit to catch claws and tantalize teeth such that not even a beastly puss such as this could resist! Spun and spun and spun until a ball fit for the king of cats was before them.
All stood in awe as Ivor pushed his creation away and with it fled the deadly beast that would have robbed some of them of their chance to see the Thunderer's Spark! Listen close, friends, and learn well! Remember that a drop of cleverness may spare an ocean of blood!
Without further fight, they reached the peak and beheld below them all the world that the Aesir had gifted us Gutes to make our own. There, sized as a child's toy, was the whole of Rekavidr, a speck of virtue in a sea of hungry green! But Anja's eyes were fixed upwards at the gathering storm that had come to witness what glory the Gods had conspired to reveal this day!
Before her, Giantbone placed the idols of her toil and conquest. First, the hammer of precious brass she had forged with her own huge (but surprisingly gentle) hands. Then, two horns ripped the brow of the Gute's greatest foes! Before these, she knelt and prayed!
(Gefjosa does a terrible Anja impression)
"Mighty Thunderer, I offer these horns, taken from an oppressive Onigar, as sacrifice to you. Please take them, Thor, with the promise of more to follow. All I ask in return is whatever care and blessing you see fit upon my companions, and the chance to test my strength and determination against a spark from your hammer."
She stood then, knowing without looking that the clouds were parting. Each of those arrayed around knew as well. Their leader had prayed for a test and none believed it would be solely a test for her alone. They made ready as best they could.
But none can be ready for a God to speak, let alone to act.
The sky split.
The Storm Itself spoke HERE KID CATCH.
Lightning flashed.
Thunder boom.
THE SPARK DESCENDED.
Anja rose to meet it, powerful thighs propelling her skyward, palm raised to strike the SPARK. Every inch of her frame bent into this one blow, more than merely seven-and-a-half feet of beautiful muscle, the Giantbone's soul itself was thrust into the strike. Vrthing, Saemd, and Frami all wreathed Giantbone as all of her bent towards one purpose… and struck with head held high!
How.
She.
Screamed.
In a clap of thunder, Anja Giantbone was torn apart and thrust into the mountain, nine feet deep through solid stone older than the idea of Man itself. Giantbone died. Fingers grasped the edge of the crater she'd rent into the highest-reaching finger of the earth and STORMEYE emerged.
From shoulder to nail, storm clouds replaced skin! Lightning leapt from cloud to cloud that made up her heaving bosom! Changed but whole and swiftly returning to flesh, but still housing the storm, Anja Stormeye rose the hammer shaped crater with fearful crackling gaze still aloft towards the sky as if to say THANK YOU THUNDERER BUT IS. THERE. MORE?
There was.
The mountain beneath us rippled, ripped and split in two! Surely, you must have seen the peak rent on that day! Surely, you must have known in your hearts that none but the most skilled, most valorous, and most blessed could survive force that slays the very mountains themselves! You are correct and we skilled, valorous, and blessed stand now before you, only outmatched in those qualities by the brave that fell in the fight that came! For the rending peak was heralded greater woe! From the revealed depths was disgorged true horror! For only such monstrosity would be fit to challenge the newly anointed Daughter of Thor herself!
All know of the Dread-Beasts, things that do not create, do not beget, and do not relent. Things of elemental destruction, each unique save for that their whole being is bent towards the end of all else. What emerged from the yawning chasm could be nothing else.
Four wings like blades, it had, and six eyes overfilled with hatred! Eight legs each clad in claws longer than even Uncle Njal (Hi Uncle Njal!) towers and ten thousand folds of its stony grey skin like the elephantine beasts of mythic Carthage! And one tail, long as a river, and carrying in its weft all the death of a season's worth of drowning floods!
PRAISE THE THUNDERER FOR HE GIVES TESTS WORTHY OF HIS GIFTS!
Before the others drew breath, Swift Kare took wing, raised bow, and stole from the creature one full forth of its flight as his deadly shaft, wreathed in crackly power, severed one of the Dread Beast's buzzing wings! Wrath descended as the Beast threw a wall of knives towards Rekavidr's swiftest son but caught naught save cold crystal dust!
At Anja's behest resourceful Ivor, he who uses woman's tool to surpass men in war, spun thread indestructible as Fenrir's chains and gave it to the hands of stalwart Gefjosa! Swallowing her fear, Stormeye's staunchest friend launched herself from the prow of a conjured plow and lay hands on the Beast, distracted as it was by the archer's elusive flight and ceaseless stings!
Flowing Dark shrouded Gefjosa's touch from the beast's mind as she scaled its length and pulled the rope taut around its neck! But at another touch, the Beast knew of the gnat and swat it with its all-slaying tail! Unblessed by the Thunderer, Gefjosa fell and met cruelest mountainstone as little more than mangled limbs and unbroken will! Never one to leave a downed foe alive, the Dread Beast turned to bathe the fallen farmer in its flesh-eating breath. Its neck swole with venom as it prepare to reduce her to bone-strewn sludge, ending her cursed life once and for all!
But no Gute fights alone and brave Ingunn, who always choses her perfect moment to strike, had chosen this one. Powered by the full might of her Aspect and a form sculpted solely to power that single throw, a spear tore through and through the monster's neck piercing the fell sacs within that only such a master of monstrous forms could have divined!
Death-cucked close to completely, the vengeful beast turned what remained of its horrid toxin upon brave Ingunn and in a blast of gas, ended the Mistress of Shapes! The first to fall, however, had saved them all! Without her spear and peerless courage, each would have felt the toxin's scourge upon their flesh in time!
Her fall gave yet more as the maddened beast had made a grave misstep! Quiet Krakr had spoken to the seeds of the mountain peak and commanded them grow tall and green and shroud his form. From hiding in a blind of his own bond with the spirits of land, Krakr loosed his bow, striking that horrid thing in its rightmost eye! Pain like dagger must have shot through it then for it was ten thousand daggers that it showered upon the bower from which Krakr's perfect strike had flow. All things there were pierced and though Krakr had built a shelter, it could not stand and his body was pierced twenty times in each inch and he fell with glory greater than the uncountable number of his wounds.
Brave Anja, then, had seen half of her companions fall and knew that their current path lead but to death. Each strike alone was mighty but more than might was needed to best the test of Thor. But the Norns had blessed Anja with brilliance greater than both her height and her beauty (which is crazy cause she's so hot and so tall). As Kare's Flickering Fleinn-Dance threw him cross the sky and riddled the Beast with sizzling shafts, Anja called to clever Ivor for the greatest distraction from the depths of his depthless bag of tricks and fled towards the fallen Gefjosa. In whispered words they conferred as the weaver worked a true miracle.
Thread. Needle. It is ever-true that the simplest tool shew the truest expression of the sharpest minds. Woven from thread and glinting metal made from a fox-clever soul, powered by crown, and cloak, and glory bright, Ivor's Dragon took shape and flight! It rose, equal in size to the towering Dread Beast itself as Kare's became cornered even in the endless sky! As it rose to bring his doom, cherry-red needles stormed from the maw of Ivor's masterpiece and pierced deep into the beast's wrinkled skin! It spun and struck and rent the facsimile asunder, proving all the artifice of Norse brilliance is worth but a moment of distraction to an engine of the Gods' wrath!
A moment is all that Norse may need, however. Anja's strong left hand grabbed the trailing rope that Gefjosa's body had been broken to place. In her stronger right she swung a sling in which was seated a small plow, the last creation of shattered Gefjosa's flagging strength, forged by gravestone crown, flaxen cloak, deepest sorrow, and flickering hope.
The sling spun.
The beast rose towards Kare.
The rope snapped taught.
The world hung as the beast jerked to the side, all its might meeting all of Anja's and found for a second wanting…
Kare watched in that long second as one razor wing rose, scything towards the rope that held it bound, still, and defenseless against Anja's yet-unloosed plow.
Kare watched the river of knives pouring towards his momentarily frozen form… none faster than Kare Sky-Dancer… to dodge that wave of blades would be the work of a split moment's thought… yet in that moment the thing's wing would cut that rope, the slung plow would strike naught but vapor and… feather touched Kare's cheek, he'd already drawn the bow, he would not dodge.
That tide of blades washed over him as the single arrowed he'd loosed and powered with the last Aspect that could have spared him from the lethality of the Dread Beast's rage met the joint that held the scything wing to the creature's fell form. And SEVERED it. Kare fell broken but victorious.
None stood save the Stormeye and she proved the truth of her kenning. The Storm surged beneath her skin as her eyes glowed with the light of a thousand sparks. A scream of raw force split her throat as she pulled on the rope with all her might. The Dread-Beast's head wrenches to the side add its sole eye latched on to the plow-spinning-sling.
In that instant, the cold hatred in its gaze vanished with a sharp injection of fear.
The sling cracked. The Plow flew, Stormeye guiding its path, and connected with the Dread-Beast's brow.
Before the blade of a plow, all obstacles were equal. With the might of Anja Stormeye driving it, no obstacle could stand.
The Dread-Beast's body hit the ground as stone crept along its surface--a hole large enough for three men to stand with arms outstretched replacing its head.
…
Then we gathered up the bodies, talked about making a sled out my Plow and some Thread, put a bunch of stuff in our Fylgjas, gathered the bodies of our fallen heroes and walked home!"
Then she climbs off the pile, lies down, and falls asleep on the ground.
They take a moment to disgorge more and more granite out of their Fylgja spaces, until, eventually, they are standing amid a small hill of high quality stone.
Gefjosa tiredly climbs the pile, takes a deep breath, completely shuts off her perception of fear and almost everyone in the gathered crowd, and begins to talk.
"The mountains beyond Rekavidr are not so untamed as they were when first we lost of Gotland washed ashore. Much of the land has been tamed and claimed, made into homes and fields and hunting grounds. The vine-choked, steaming jungles of their lower slopes have felt the tread of brave Norse soles time and time again and it was in the tread of these far-ranging wanderers that Operation Punching Thunder began!
High above the band of six, Eagle and Raven Eyes of brave Kare and crafty Krakr wove a web of far-seeing that no foe could penetrate. Ingunn of Many Forms took chimeric mein, with raptor eyes and canine nose, burrower's whiskers and softpadding paws, ranged forward forth sensing all and sensed by none! The winds themselves bore the Skydancer aloft and carried his whispered words of waiting dangers back to groundbound ears. Towards the tallest mountain he flew, and followed all others, far beneath. As the Name-Giver wove impenetrable mail of needle and thread to gird his soon siblings-forged-in-blood-of-battle, it was brave (and beautiful and humble and awesome) Anja of the Giantbone who led them all! In her heart beat the desire to meet the Maker of Thunder and make her mettle known!
Also, Gefjosa, who had packed snacks, was there.
Up, up, and up! Through the mist-smocked hills, past jungle crags, and into the barren twisted scree they marched! Even in places tamed, the heart of the wild may still beat and into this towering heart of darkness the heroes travelled! All lurking foes they slipped, through senses sharp and footfalls careful, save for the cleverest of all.
On the lonesome path, with deathsome drop on one side and unyielding stone the other, from hiding in the rocks above, peered cat-slit eyes of gemstone hue and cruelest depths. From all around came the hiss of its venom filled stingers, three in number of ready to fell the same of our heroes' count. A perfect predator, perfectly placed, patiently perched, and poised to bring ruin at the slightest misstep. All save one readied their souls and swords to do battle.
It was the one saved who saved all. Clever Ivor, foxlike in soul and guile, had seen to the heart of this thing. Though larger than vessels that fled fallen Gotland and bedecked with three venoms potent enough for to serve equal stead in the Trickster's punishment, that which has the eyes of a cat has its soul as well. And among them the Norns had decreed would be one who had what which no cat may resist. From his soul the Name-Giver spun finest thread, fit to catch claws and tantalize teeth such that not even a beastly puss such as this could resist! Spun and spun and spun until a ball fit for the king of cats was before them.
All stood in awe as Ivor pushed his creation away and with it fled the deadly beast that would have robbed some of them of their chance to see the Thunderer's Spark! Listen close, friends, and learn well! Remember that a drop of cleverness may spare an ocean of blood!
Without further fight, they reached the peak and beheld below them all the world that the Aesir had gifted us Gutes to make our own. There, sized as a child's toy, was the whole of Rekavidr, a speck of virtue in a sea of hungry green! But Anja's eyes were fixed upwards at the gathering storm that had come to witness what glory the Gods had conspired to reveal this day!
Before her, Giantbone placed the idols of her toil and conquest. First, the hammer of precious brass she had forged with her own huge (but surprisingly gentle) hands. Then, two horns ripped the brow of the Gute's greatest foes! Before these, she knelt and prayed!
(Gefjosa does a terrible Anja impression)
"Mighty Thunderer, I offer these horns, taken from an oppressive Onigar, as sacrifice to you. Please take them, Thor, with the promise of more to follow. All I ask in return is whatever care and blessing you see fit upon my companions, and the chance to test my strength and determination against a spark from your hammer."
She stood then, knowing without looking that the clouds were parting. Each of those arrayed around knew as well. Their leader had prayed for a test and none believed it would be solely a test for her alone. They made ready as best they could.
But none can be ready for a God to speak, let alone to act.
The sky split.
The Storm Itself spoke HERE KID CATCH.
Lightning flashed.
Thunder boom.
THE SPARK DESCENDED.
Anja rose to meet it, powerful thighs propelling her skyward, palm raised to strike the SPARK. Every inch of her frame bent into this one blow, more than merely seven-and-a-half feet of beautiful muscle, the Giantbone's soul itself was thrust into the strike. Vrthing, Saemd, and Frami all wreathed Giantbone as all of her bent towards one purpose… and struck with head held high!
How.
She.
Screamed.
In a clap of thunder, Anja Giantbone was torn apart and thrust into the mountain, nine feet deep through solid stone older than the idea of Man itself. Giantbone died. Fingers grasped the edge of the crater she'd rent into the highest-reaching finger of the earth and STORMEYE emerged.
From shoulder to nail, storm clouds replaced skin! Lightning leapt from cloud to cloud that made up her heaving bosom! Changed but whole and swiftly returning to flesh, but still housing the storm, Anja Stormeye rose the hammer shaped crater with fearful crackling gaze still aloft towards the sky as if to say THANK YOU THUNDERER BUT IS. THERE. MORE?
There was.
The mountain beneath us rippled, ripped and split in two! Surely, you must have seen the peak rent on that day! Surely, you must have known in your hearts that none but the most skilled, most valorous, and most blessed could survive force that slays the very mountains themselves! You are correct and we skilled, valorous, and blessed stand now before you, only outmatched in those qualities by the brave that fell in the fight that came! For the rending peak was heralded greater woe! From the revealed depths was disgorged true horror! For only such monstrosity would be fit to challenge the newly anointed Daughter of Thor herself!
All know of the Dread-Beasts, things that do not create, do not beget, and do not relent. Things of elemental destruction, each unique save for that their whole being is bent towards the end of all else. What emerged from the yawning chasm could be nothing else.
Four wings like blades, it had, and six eyes overfilled with hatred! Eight legs each clad in claws longer than even Uncle Njal (Hi Uncle Njal!) towers and ten thousand folds of its stony grey skin like the elephantine beasts of mythic Carthage! And one tail, long as a river, and carrying in its weft all the death of a season's worth of drowning floods!
PRAISE THE THUNDERER FOR HE GIVES TESTS WORTHY OF HIS GIFTS!
Before the others drew breath, Swift Kare took wing, raised bow, and stole from the creature one full forth of its flight as his deadly shaft, wreathed in crackly power, severed one of the Dread Beast's buzzing wings! Wrath descended as the Beast threw a wall of knives towards Rekavidr's swiftest son but caught naught save cold crystal dust!
At Anja's behest resourceful Ivor, he who uses woman's tool to surpass men in war, spun thread indestructible as Fenrir's chains and gave it to the hands of stalwart Gefjosa! Swallowing her fear, Stormeye's staunchest friend launched herself from the prow of a conjured plow and lay hands on the Beast, distracted as it was by the archer's elusive flight and ceaseless stings!
Flowing Dark shrouded Gefjosa's touch from the beast's mind as she scaled its length and pulled the rope taut around its neck! But at another touch, the Beast knew of the gnat and swat it with its all-slaying tail! Unblessed by the Thunderer, Gefjosa fell and met cruelest mountainstone as little more than mangled limbs and unbroken will! Never one to leave a downed foe alive, the Dread Beast turned to bathe the fallen farmer in its flesh-eating breath. Its neck swole with venom as it prepare to reduce her to bone-strewn sludge, ending her cursed life once and for all!
But no Gute fights alone and brave Ingunn, who always choses her perfect moment to strike, had chosen this one. Powered by the full might of her Aspect and a form sculpted solely to power that single throw, a spear tore through and through the monster's neck piercing the fell sacs within that only such a master of monstrous forms could have divined!
Death-cucked close to completely, the vengeful beast turned what remained of its horrid toxin upon brave Ingunn and in a blast of gas, ended the Mistress of Shapes! The first to fall, however, had saved them all! Without her spear and peerless courage, each would have felt the toxin's scourge upon their flesh in time!
Her fall gave yet more as the maddened beast had made a grave misstep! Quiet Krakr had spoken to the seeds of the mountain peak and commanded them grow tall and green and shroud his form. From hiding in a blind of his own bond with the spirits of land, Krakr loosed his bow, striking that horrid thing in its rightmost eye! Pain like dagger must have shot through it then for it was ten thousand daggers that it showered upon the bower from which Krakr's perfect strike had flow. All things there were pierced and though Krakr had built a shelter, it could not stand and his body was pierced twenty times in each inch and he fell with glory greater than the uncountable number of his wounds.
Brave Anja, then, had seen half of her companions fall and knew that their current path lead but to death. Each strike alone was mighty but more than might was needed to best the test of Thor. But the Norns had blessed Anja with brilliance greater than both her height and her beauty (which is crazy cause she's so hot and so tall). As Kare's Flickering Fleinn-Dance threw him cross the sky and riddled the Beast with sizzling shafts, Anja called to clever Ivor for the greatest distraction from the depths of his depthless bag of tricks and fled towards the fallen Gefjosa. In whispered words they conferred as the weaver worked a true miracle.
Thread. Needle. It is ever-true that the simplest tool shew the truest expression of the sharpest minds. Woven from thread and glinting metal made from a fox-clever soul, powered by crown, and cloak, and glory bright, Ivor's Dragon took shape and flight! It rose, equal in size to the towering Dread Beast itself as Kare's became cornered even in the endless sky! As it rose to bring his doom, cherry-red needles stormed from the maw of Ivor's masterpiece and pierced deep into the beast's wrinkled skin! It spun and struck and rent the facsimile asunder, proving all the artifice of Norse brilliance is worth but a moment of distraction to an engine of the Gods' wrath!
A moment is all that Norse may need, however. Anja's strong left hand grabbed the trailing rope that Gefjosa's body had been broken to place. In her stronger right she swung a sling in which was seated a small plow, the last creation of shattered Gefjosa's flagging strength, forged by gravestone crown, flaxen cloak, deepest sorrow, and flickering hope.
The sling spun.
The beast rose towards Kare.
The rope snapped taught.
The world hung as the beast jerked to the side, all its might meeting all of Anja's and found for a second wanting…
Kare watched in that long second as one razor wing rose, scything towards the rope that held it bound, still, and defenseless against Anja's yet-unloosed plow.
Kare watched the river of knives pouring towards his momentarily frozen form… none faster than Kare Sky-Dancer… to dodge that wave of blades would be the work of a split moment's thought… yet in that moment the thing's wing would cut that rope, the slung plow would strike naught but vapor and… feather touched Kare's cheek, he'd already drawn the bow, he would not dodge.
That tide of blades washed over him as the single arrowed he'd loosed and powered with the last Aspect that could have spared him from the lethality of the Dread Beast's rage met the joint that held the scything wing to the creature's fell form. And SEVERED it. Kare fell broken but victorious.
None stood save the Stormeye and she proved the truth of her kenning. The Storm surged beneath her skin as her eyes glowed with the light of a thousand sparks. A scream of raw force split her throat as she pulled on the rope with all her might. The Dread-Beast's head wrenches to the side add its sole eye latched on to the plow-spinning-sling.
In that instant, the cold hatred in its gaze vanished with a sharp injection of fear.
The sling cracked. The Plow flew, Stormeye guiding its path, and connected with the Dread-Beast's brow.
Before the blade of a plow, all obstacles were equal. With the might of Anja Stormeye driving it, no obstacle could stand.
The Dread-Beast's body hit the ground as stone crept along its surface--a hole large enough for three men to stand with arms outstretched replacing its head.
…
Then we gathered up the bodies, talked about making a sled out my Plow and some Thread, put a bunch of stuff in our Fylgjas, gathered the bodies of our fallen heroes and walked home!"
Then she climbs off the pile, lies down, and falls asleep on the ground.
- Pronouns
- he/him
That was incredible, seriously. so damn good.
Not much to say other than *applause*
- Location
- Many Places
That was fantastic.
- Pronouns
- He/Him
Best report on an expedition so far, I think. Definitely up there. Amazing writing.
- Pronouns
- he/him
Clearly i have to take Gefjosa Dreadbinder on all my expeditions. not only does she detail things so well at the end but she also brings snacks
For reference, the cat thing we found seemed to be a Tatzelwurm (though we never saw the body, the poison and hissing sound are distinctive). Might grant some sort of poison-related power if you eat the heart, which might be of interest to some.
Shard
One and Many
- Location
- Malaysia
Norsely wise, dying to a shame-strike is the worst way to die.
Glorious deaths, you keep your Ordstirr. Inglorious ones? RIP.
Can't take all the credit. Anja's speech was verbatim from her player and the description of the Dread Beast's death was only slightly tweaked from what IF wrote. (and obviously can't take personal credit the events and characters and so forth.) but thank you all anyways!
The Hard Part (OneArmedYeti)
- Location
- The United States
- Pronouns
- He/They
The Hard Part
((Timeframe is shortly before the two expeditions leave town, couldn't have written it without @CoatRackRanger, majority of first pass writing done before we knew if either would survive,
Everyone on the action knows about the walk and talk but not specifics, Clan Jarnblod knows that Harald came home even dopier than the day after the feast.))
At the end of the second day digging up Amlodi's future quarry, Harald asks Gefjosa for a hand carrying some compacted dirt back to Ragnarsby.
If either realized that Harald had two cousins and a fungal farmhand headed that way who weren't carrying anything, neither mentioned it.
If either realized that after the last years labor and glory the other could carry the load easily by themselves, either of them would have thought about it, a lot, but neither mentioned it.
They spend the first half of the walk, Harald's cousins walking ahead of them almost to the horizon, laughing and enjoying the walk and sun with each other. They talk about soil composition, and preventing earthworks from degrading by seeding grasses and flowers, keeping frogs wet, and a half dozen other safe things, a hard days work and danger on the horizon allowing both to relax and enjoy the afternoon.
Harald felt like a heap of hay that had been allowed to cure wrong in the high heat of the summer, dampness bringing fire through the mysteries of the Soil, readying grass to light with the faintest spark.
Gods, how he had missed this feeling.
*This was such a good day...but we're almost to Ragnarsby*
"I thought about how I was going to say this for the last few days of digging and I didn't, but last night I realized that I should just talk about it.
Gefji, if the next few weeks don't go well for either of us, I want you to know that it changes nothing for me. I understand if it changes stuff for you, but I don't think it will. All the other reasons to end those assholes aside, I think you want to steal those Oni's cows and care for them and boop their 14 foot tall snoots just as much as I do.
Basically what I'm trying to say is if I don't see you for a while, don't give up on me, and if you don't see me for a while, don't waste time trying to convince me to stop believing in you. "
Harald walked and smiled and waited for a while in silence, he had......expected a response to that...
Gefjosa blinks at Harald a couple times. He realizes that, about halfway through his speech tears had started to gather at the corners of her eyes.
*Ah shit she's about to cry, topic change, topic change...don't ruin the last five minutes of the last walk you might have with her*
"I also wanted to make sure you knew that I don't think you slighted me by choosing to go with Anja up into the northern mountains instead of going with me and my Kin out west for Stone like you'd said for a while.
You don't have to explain the decision to me or anything, just wanted to reassure you of that. I don't know why you'd think that, just seemed like something good to mention."
He smiles and thinks of foundations.
"I hope we both find what we're looking for."
She sniffs a couple of times then, surprisingly, rubs away the burgeoning dew without loosing the floodgates whatsoever.
"Sorry, I was still thinking about the Oni Cows." She takes a steadying breath. Then smiles up at Harald, "I… just didn't want to get stuck in a hole with your kin and-and have them keep pushing us together. Dying in the mountains sounds less stressful."
*If they screw this up for me their blood won't save them*
Irritation, annoyance, and just a touch of real anger touches Harald eyes as he looks ahead to his two cousins walking ahead of them, almost on the horizon, before he sighs, takes his own steadying breathe, smiles back at her, and relaxes.
*I can't take issue with Kin for trying to help me, I just wish they'd listened. They will when I return from this trip*
"I'll talk with my cousins and make sure they all understand I don't want or need any help here, that I'm Actually Happy Right Now. I promise I told them we weren't courting and to treat you and Anja both like they would treat Ragnar's blood brothers...sorry about the disconnect....and I presume also for whatever Moli or Kare or... *No Harald, you know it was Moli or Kare*, anyway whatever they said."
Harald's fears and anger were dismissed with a smile,
"Moli and Kare didn't say anything I just… worry."
Harald sighed, Ragnarr's house would be visible around the next corner...He still had one thing left to talk about, and precious little time to do it.
"I worry too. I know we can do this, I feel it in my spine and my heart and the earth beneath my feet, but I worry too. You asked me one ti..." Harald is interrupted
Just as they're about to separate for the last time for quite a while… maybe forever if the Norns are cruel… Gefjosa grabs Harald by the bicep pulls him close, hesitates for a split second, then kisses his cheek. "I-in case we n-never see each other again! And so you have a reason to make SURE you come back!" She flees, blind panic driving out all thoughts save a little pink voice reminding her just how FIRM that bicep was.
The moment her lips brushed his cheek their heat sparked a fire that burned through Harald's mind and body as he gave a dopey smile and looked at her..Leaving?!
The fire spread through him as he held his cheek and watched her go. It flashed through him, passing over some things and consuming others.
Everything he had decided he was ok with for her sake burned to ash.
His patience burned.
His restraint burned.
His worries burned.
Harald fell into a sprinters stance holding his cheek as the earth below him formed into blocks to push off of, and readied himself to leap off after her on plumes of Soil. The instant before he does, he hears his father's voice, almost drowned out by the fire behind his eyes and heart beating in his chest.
"A real man never stops a woman from leaving. Make her want to return. Make her want to stay. In love as in farming, you must earn the blessings of Freyja.
But no son of mine will chase a girl like she's prey."
*No, Harald, stop, just enjoy it and let her have the space*
Harald stays there, crouched
*Huh, when she runs like that she forgets to hide how her...*
His cheek gets even warmer, as he starts to shout after her
*Should I have to look a Valkyrie in the eye and turn down an invitation to a God's Hall, unless it be my Fated Day or we face Steel, I will return to you*
*No harald, 40% off the top there and don't tempt the norn, old habits*
"You do the same" He shouts, the smile audible in his voice from 100 yards off.
Harald lies there, on the ground, and watches her run until she's gone, then flips over, looks at the clouds, and smiles.
*I knew Ragnar was wrong...shouldn't have doubted myself, or her, still wish she hadn't left so abruptly, I still needed to ask her...*
He realized it didn't matter.
He knew he still needed to ask her what she had asked him, and felt guilty about not doing so already, but the need he had felt that morning to ask her was gone, he wasn't sure why.
*Ah well, we'll have time, or we won't. I'll pray tonight and hope for the best, but I can't control the measurement of the Norns so there's no reason to concern myself with it.
Even if one of us does fall....this goodbye was so much better than the last. I was so worried about surviving. So worried about my loss sending her down forever.
I was wrong. Even if I fall, she'll pull through. I have to believe that. If I'm going to win I have to go into tomorrow with clear eyes, hungry for the future and unconcerned with loss.
huh...maybe I can ask Anja to relay the question for me in case I...no, it's not that urgent. It seemed so critical this morning though....
oh, jealousy. It was the jealousy, the jealousy is gone.*
It had burned too
*Neat!* Harald thought, securely, before thinking of her lips and then the words of his mother.
"Remember, child, we make sacrifices to the Gods not because of what we receive in turn, but because in removing something from ourselves, even if just by our word, we give ourselves room to grow. It is in the struggle, that we earn the gifts of the gods.
You do not have to make this promise today. If you're not sure, and you want to wait or decline I would think no less of you, and would convince your father of the same. It would be better for you to have the....typical level of youthful indescrition and then do fresh rites from there than for you to make this promise before Freyja and break it. Do you understand, Son?"
He remembered reassuring her he did.
He'd had no idea.
*Freya's wreathe, this is the hard part, isn't it*
((Timeframe is shortly before the two expeditions leave town, couldn't have written it without @CoatRackRanger, majority of first pass writing done before we knew if either would survive,
Everyone on the action knows about the walk and talk but not specifics, Clan Jarnblod knows that Harald came home even dopier than the day after the feast.))
At the end of the second day digging up Amlodi's future quarry, Harald asks Gefjosa for a hand carrying some compacted dirt back to Ragnarsby.
If either realized that Harald had two cousins and a fungal farmhand headed that way who weren't carrying anything, neither mentioned it.
If either realized that after the last years labor and glory the other could carry the load easily by themselves, either of them would have thought about it, a lot, but neither mentioned it.
They spend the first half of the walk, Harald's cousins walking ahead of them almost to the horizon, laughing and enjoying the walk and sun with each other. They talk about soil composition, and preventing earthworks from degrading by seeding grasses and flowers, keeping frogs wet, and a half dozen other safe things, a hard days work and danger on the horizon allowing both to relax and enjoy the afternoon.
Harald felt like a heap of hay that had been allowed to cure wrong in the high heat of the summer, dampness bringing fire through the mysteries of the Soil, readying grass to light with the faintest spark.
Gods, how he had missed this feeling.
*This was such a good day...but we're almost to Ragnarsby*
"I thought about how I was going to say this for the last few days of digging and I didn't, but last night I realized that I should just talk about it.
Gefji, if the next few weeks don't go well for either of us, I want you to know that it changes nothing for me. I understand if it changes stuff for you, but I don't think it will. All the other reasons to end those assholes aside, I think you want to steal those Oni's cows and care for them and boop their 14 foot tall snoots just as much as I do.
Basically what I'm trying to say is if I don't see you for a while, don't give up on me, and if you don't see me for a while, don't waste time trying to convince me to stop believing in you. "
Harald walked and smiled and waited for a while in silence, he had......expected a response to that...
Gefjosa blinks at Harald a couple times. He realizes that, about halfway through his speech tears had started to gather at the corners of her eyes.
*Ah shit she's about to cry, topic change, topic change...don't ruin the last five minutes of the last walk you might have with her*
"I also wanted to make sure you knew that I don't think you slighted me by choosing to go with Anja up into the northern mountains instead of going with me and my Kin out west for Stone like you'd said for a while.
You don't have to explain the decision to me or anything, just wanted to reassure you of that. I don't know why you'd think that, just seemed like something good to mention."
He smiles and thinks of foundations.
"I hope we both find what we're looking for."
She sniffs a couple of times then, surprisingly, rubs away the burgeoning dew without loosing the floodgates whatsoever.
"Sorry, I was still thinking about the Oni Cows." She takes a steadying breath. Then smiles up at Harald, "I… just didn't want to get stuck in a hole with your kin and-and have them keep pushing us together. Dying in the mountains sounds less stressful."
*If they screw this up for me their blood won't save them*
Irritation, annoyance, and just a touch of real anger touches Harald eyes as he looks ahead to his two cousins walking ahead of them, almost on the horizon, before he sighs, takes his own steadying breathe, smiles back at her, and relaxes.
*I can't take issue with Kin for trying to help me, I just wish they'd listened. They will when I return from this trip*
"I'll talk with my cousins and make sure they all understand I don't want or need any help here, that I'm Actually Happy Right Now. I promise I told them we weren't courting and to treat you and Anja both like they would treat Ragnar's blood brothers...sorry about the disconnect....and I presume also for whatever Moli or Kare or... *No Harald, you know it was Moli or Kare*, anyway whatever they said."
Harald's fears and anger were dismissed with a smile,
"Moli and Kare didn't say anything I just… worry."
Harald sighed, Ragnarr's house would be visible around the next corner...He still had one thing left to talk about, and precious little time to do it.
"I worry too. I know we can do this, I feel it in my spine and my heart and the earth beneath my feet, but I worry too. You asked me one ti..." Harald is interrupted
Just as they're about to separate for the last time for quite a while… maybe forever if the Norns are cruel… Gefjosa grabs Harald by the bicep pulls him close, hesitates for a split second, then kisses his cheek. "I-in case we n-never see each other again! And so you have a reason to make SURE you come back!" She flees, blind panic driving out all thoughts save a little pink voice reminding her just how FIRM that bicep was.
The moment her lips brushed his cheek their heat sparked a fire that burned through Harald's mind and body as he gave a dopey smile and looked at her..Leaving?!
The fire spread through him as he held his cheek and watched her go. It flashed through him, passing over some things and consuming others.
Everything he had decided he was ok with for her sake burned to ash.
His patience burned.
His restraint burned.
His worries burned.
Harald fell into a sprinters stance holding his cheek as the earth below him formed into blocks to push off of, and readied himself to leap off after her on plumes of Soil. The instant before he does, he hears his father's voice, almost drowned out by the fire behind his eyes and heart beating in his chest.
"A real man never stops a woman from leaving. Make her want to return. Make her want to stay. In love as in farming, you must earn the blessings of Freyja.
But no son of mine will chase a girl like she's prey."
*No, Harald, stop, just enjoy it and let her have the space*
Harald stays there, crouched
*Huh, when she runs like that she forgets to hide how her...*
His cheek gets even warmer, as he starts to shout after her
*Should I have to look a Valkyrie in the eye and turn down an invitation to a God's Hall, unless it be my Fated Day or we face Steel, I will return to you*
*No harald, 40% off the top there and don't tempt the norn, old habits*
"You do the same" He shouts, the smile audible in his voice from 100 yards off.
Harald lies there, on the ground, and watches her run until she's gone, then flips over, looks at the clouds, and smiles.
*I knew Ragnar was wrong...shouldn't have doubted myself, or her, still wish she hadn't left so abruptly, I still needed to ask her...*
He realized it didn't matter.
He knew he still needed to ask her what she had asked him, and felt guilty about not doing so already, but the need he had felt that morning to ask her was gone, he wasn't sure why.
*Ah well, we'll have time, or we won't. I'll pray tonight and hope for the best, but I can't control the measurement of the Norns so there's no reason to concern myself with it.
Even if one of us does fall....this goodbye was so much better than the last. I was so worried about surviving. So worried about my loss sending her down forever.
I was wrong. Even if I fall, she'll pull through. I have to believe that. If I'm going to win I have to go into tomorrow with clear eyes, hungry for the future and unconcerned with loss.
huh...maybe I can ask Anja to relay the question for me in case I...no, it's not that urgent. It seemed so critical this morning though....
oh, jealousy. It was the jealousy, the jealousy is gone.*
It had burned too
*Neat!* Harald thought, securely, before thinking of her lips and then the words of his mother.
"Remember, child, we make sacrifices to the Gods not because of what we receive in turn, but because in removing something from ourselves, even if just by our word, we give ourselves room to grow. It is in the struggle, that we earn the gifts of the gods.
You do not have to make this promise today. If you're not sure, and you want to wait or decline I would think no less of you, and would convince your father of the same. It would be better for you to have the....typical level of youthful indescrition and then do fresh rites from there than for you to make this promise before Freyja and break it. Do you understand, Son?"
He remembered reassuring her he did.
He'd had no idea.
*Freya's wreathe, this is the hard part, isn't it*
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I.F. Ister
Fortifying The Thread
- Pronouns
- He/They
Good shtuff
+9 Ordstirr to Anja, +6 to the rest involved, an additional +2 to Krakr and Ingunn for heroic deaths, +3 to Kare for having a character moment death
+3 Units of T2 Stone
Anja now has the bloodline 'Stormsoul'
Stormsoul: You have a reserve of thunder-might tucked away in your soul. Drawing it forth turns your skin to storm and allows you to use it in whatever manner you so choose, enhancing and strengthening all the while.
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Is the seeress interested in the spiritual site?
Or 1 unit of formerly dread beast stone? Or looking at Anja and/or Gefjosa's bloodlines?
I.F. Ister
Fortifying The Thread
- Pronouns
- He/They
Yes, so you can get a reward from her once you bring her to it
The stone is nothing more than rock now, like it had merely reverted to a state it had previously been in.
The bloodlines, though interesting, are not something Gudrun Ravensight holds much of a candle for
Is bringing her there something we can do this season?