Hex stood in the clearing feeling the cold creep up her leg. This is not what I wanted at all... Sighing, Hex let her power go, her leg now tingling with pins and needles from the cold as well as throbbing from the wounds. Disgusted with herself Hex grunted and looked around. The key here was that the intruders needed to be killed off, by her, the Guardian or Ashilda, it mattered not.
Standing here is useless.. Hex looked to the sky for a moment and then slowly began to hobble towards the last pursuing solider. What had happened in the valley proper would have to wait, this man needed to be dealt with.
The pain in her leg was almost unbearable. Coupled with all the other pains it made Hex walk in a not so straight pattern. Her breath was coming rapidly now and she knew that her usefulness in this fight was coming to an end, as she hoped the fight was.
The goal was to draw the fire and give Ashilda a chance for a clear shot. Hex began to move towards the man, attempting to give not a clear shot to him and at the same time trying not to block Ashilda's shot. There should have been more than the two of them, speaking of which, where was that other girl? Hex vowed to herself that when, or rather if she ever went back to Rimehold that there would be some priestesses there that would feel her full wrath for thier inaction. Fools!. For a moment she was lost in the anger, her hobbled step moving a little faster until she almost slipped on some ice causing her to awkwardly recover. She had to stop for a moment for the pain.
Hex cursed and started to move again hoping that Ashilda would soon kill this fool off, at least before he killed her. After all, she didn't really want to walk into a crossbow bolt, she just thought that that she would be a good distraction.
Icy Quest, part III: The Fate of Fronigtalle (Sam 22nd)
-
Hex da`Bergliin
- Warrior Priest
- Posts: 742
- Joined: Thu May 08, 2003 1:08 am
- Location: Frozen wastes of Trothgard
Last edited by Hex da`Bergliin on Sun Mar 05, 2006 11:05 pm, edited 1 time in total.
~
[i]The [b]Kona[/b] is dead, long live the [b]Witches[/b][/i]
[i]The [b]Kona[/b] is dead, long live the [b]Witches[/b][/i]
Ashilda could see a large pine a few steps away for her, to her left. The lowhanging branches would keep her out of sight, and the broad trunk would offer some protection.
And then there was Hex, of course, limping towards the soldier. She was a fearsome sight: blood, snow and the battlerage still on her face, walking with difficulty, but determination.
The foreigner now realised he had only one chance, a small one.
Most soldiers would have weighed their chances and would flee, but not this one. His god was not one of forgiveness and better-luck-next-time. He expected his followers to do his bidding, or die trying. So he would try.
With numb fingers he grabbed for his arrow, there were only two or three left, but it did not matter anymore. He would have to be fast, and shoot both of the women. But he was all but fast, the cold and the shock had left him stiff and numb, leaving time for Hex to limp near, and for Ashilda to move and try a shot. It left all three of them with little time and last chances..
His lips kept moving. Praying. Kill or be killed and ready for both.
And then there was Hex, of course, limping towards the soldier. She was a fearsome sight: blood, snow and the battlerage still on her face, walking with difficulty, but determination.
The foreigner now realised he had only one chance, a small one.
Most soldiers would have weighed their chances and would flee, but not this one. His god was not one of forgiveness and better-luck-next-time. He expected his followers to do his bidding, or die trying. So he would try.
With numb fingers he grabbed for his arrow, there were only two or three left, but it did not matter anymore. He would have to be fast, and shoot both of the women. But he was all but fast, the cold and the shock had left him stiff and numb, leaving time for Hex to limp near, and for Ashilda to move and try a shot. It left all three of them with little time and last chances..
His lips kept moving. Praying. Kill or be killed and ready for both.
[size=100][color=red] It takes a red-headed woman, to get a dirty job done[/size][/color]
[size=84]Bruce Springsteen[/size]
[size=75]http://www.dreslough.com[/size]
[size=84]Bruce Springsteen[/size]
[size=75]http://www.dreslough.com[/size]
-
Ashilda da'Svafa
Ashilda felt a surge of relief as Hex began to move slowly towards the soldier. At least she was still upright and moving, and seemed ready to take the fight to its conclusion despite her injuries - and the painful way she moved suggested that these were more then mere scratches. She kept the pair of them in sight as she moved between the bushes towards the tree. The more she experienced today, the more keen she was on the idea of having something solid to duck behind.
Her relief was short-lived, however, as the soldier began to fumble another arrow into his complex bow. Oh no you don't! she thought. She and Hex were both close enough that his chances of missing were slight if he got to shoot. Then again, that meant that her chances of missing ought to be slight too.
An important lesson came into play now: it's a lot easier to set and arrow to a shortbow and shoot than it is to do the same with a crossbow. She'd had a chance to rest for a bit, too, and her arm didn't throb as much as it had - although she figured it would probably start again once she shot. No longer willing to take the time to reach the tree, she pulled an arrow from her quiver as she rose from her crouched position and took a step forward into a gap in the undergrowth. It was a matter of flickers before she had nocked it, aimed, and sent it on its way. She cursed softly as the movement reawakened the pain in her arm, but she felt she had kept the shot steady.
Now she could hurry herself over to the tree.
Her relief was short-lived, however, as the soldier began to fumble another arrow into his complex bow. Oh no you don't! she thought. She and Hex were both close enough that his chances of missing were slight if he got to shoot. Then again, that meant that her chances of missing ought to be slight too.
An important lesson came into play now: it's a lot easier to set and arrow to a shortbow and shoot than it is to do the same with a crossbow. She'd had a chance to rest for a bit, too, and her arm didn't throb as much as it had - although she figured it would probably start again once she shot. No longer willing to take the time to reach the tree, she pulled an arrow from her quiver as she rose from her crouched position and took a step forward into a gap in the undergrowth. It was a matter of flickers before she had nocked it, aimed, and sent it on its way. She cursed softly as the movement reawakened the pain in her arm, but she felt she had kept the shot steady.
Now she could hurry herself over to the tree.
-
Hex da`Bergliin
- Warrior Priest
- Posts: 742
- Joined: Thu May 08, 2003 1:08 am
- Location: Frozen wastes of Trothgard
Hex felt like this trip was taking forever. It reminded her of the first time she came to the valley as a angry young girl. That trek seemed to take forever too. Fear was in the eyes of the man, his movements unsure and quick. The cold with or without her was starting to take it's toll on his bare skin. She cared not about his condition, he was prey.
She stumbled through the snow, her foot steps not so sure but steady. She kicked snow ahead of her as she plowed through to the fumbling man. Her leg hurt, she hurt but the land hurt more. The land, it was really all about the land and this man was part of the reason that the land was sick.
Hunger was in her eyes as she looked at this man, she focused on her prey making him the focus of her whole world right now. In her world she was walking death. The glaive is a polearm with simple but effective construction. At the end of a long pole is a large cleaver like blade curved to a point on the end. Effectively it functions as both a hacking weapon and as a piercing weapon. It was not so good close in as it was a reach weapon but it was effective as both a charge breaker and as a charging weapon itself. The latter was how Hex planed to use it now.
Hex knew that her time was winding down before she became totally ineffective. Ashilda was close and the choice had to be now. She did not know the distance but it was about to close, brining death to the man. Hex lowered her glaive and started to close the distance as fast as her hobbled legs could move her.
Hex simply growled as she moved in.
She stumbled through the snow, her foot steps not so sure but steady. She kicked snow ahead of her as she plowed through to the fumbling man. Her leg hurt, she hurt but the land hurt more. The land, it was really all about the land and this man was part of the reason that the land was sick.
Hunger was in her eyes as she looked at this man, she focused on her prey making him the focus of her whole world right now. In her world she was walking death. The glaive is a polearm with simple but effective construction. At the end of a long pole is a large cleaver like blade curved to a point on the end. Effectively it functions as both a hacking weapon and as a piercing weapon. It was not so good close in as it was a reach weapon but it was effective as both a charge breaker and as a charging weapon itself. The latter was how Hex planed to use it now.
Hex knew that her time was winding down before she became totally ineffective. Ashilda was close and the choice had to be now. She did not know the distance but it was about to close, brining death to the man. Hex lowered her glaive and started to close the distance as fast as her hobbled legs could move her.
Hex simply growled as she moved in.
Last edited by Hex da`Bergliin on Fri Mar 10, 2006 4:46 pm, edited 1 time in total.
~
[i]The [b]Kona[/b] is dead, long live the [b]Witches[/b][/i]
[i]The [b]Kona[/b] is dead, long live the [b]Witches[/b][/i]
And then the world seemed to let the breath go it had been holding for so long.
Time started again, and seemed to make up for the flickers it had lost. In a whirlwind everything seemed to happen at the same time, and faster than it should.
Hex crept forward, a determinate look on her pale face, where the pain and the strain of the fight clearly begun to show. She managed to keep her balance in the snow, with her weapon ready and her leg stiff and she managed to clear the distance between them, slowly.
Ashilda moved as if in a blur, a sigh of wind a swift flying bird.
She darted into the undergrowth, nocked her arrow and let it fly, all in the blink of an eye.
She would never know what had given her the strength to do it: the short rest, the despair of the last chance, the goddess herself? But only after she looed at her arrow, flying at its target did she feel her arm again, as a warm rivulet of bright blood slowly crept down her arm. And she knew she would not fire another shot today.
She also knew it would not be necessary..
The arrow moved towards its target in a silvery blur and hit the soldier in the chest.
Slowly he toppled over and ended lying on his back, his eyes locked at the blue sky.
He shouted something in a language they could not understand and the the light left his eyes.
And there was nothing: silence, sunlight, the chirping of the small birds, who had no idea of what had happened here today, the slow dripping of snow melting on the branches and the pure white snow covered with blood.....
Time started again, and seemed to make up for the flickers it had lost. In a whirlwind everything seemed to happen at the same time, and faster than it should.
Hex crept forward, a determinate look on her pale face, where the pain and the strain of the fight clearly begun to show. She managed to keep her balance in the snow, with her weapon ready and her leg stiff and she managed to clear the distance between them, slowly.
Ashilda moved as if in a blur, a sigh of wind a swift flying bird.
She darted into the undergrowth, nocked her arrow and let it fly, all in the blink of an eye.
She would never know what had given her the strength to do it: the short rest, the despair of the last chance, the goddess herself? But only after she looed at her arrow, flying at its target did she feel her arm again, as a warm rivulet of bright blood slowly crept down her arm. And she knew she would not fire another shot today.
She also knew it would not be necessary..
The arrow moved towards its target in a silvery blur and hit the soldier in the chest.
Slowly he toppled over and ended lying on his back, his eyes locked at the blue sky.
He shouted something in a language they could not understand and the the light left his eyes.
And there was nothing: silence, sunlight, the chirping of the small birds, who had no idea of what had happened here today, the slow dripping of snow melting on the branches and the pure white snow covered with blood.....
[size=100][color=red] It takes a red-headed woman, to get a dirty job done[/size][/color]
[size=84]Bruce Springsteen[/size]
[size=75]http://www.dreslough.com[/size]
[size=84]Bruce Springsteen[/size]
[size=75]http://www.dreslough.com[/size]
-
Hex da`Bergliin
- Warrior Priest
- Posts: 742
- Joined: Thu May 08, 2003 1:08 am
- Location: Frozen wastes of Trothgard
Hex was moving forward in the slowest charge ever seen when the arrow hit. She attempted to slow herself with grace in the poor conditions but slipped and slid out of control. desperately reaching out to a tree her leg finally had enough and gave out, sending her rather unceremoniously into the snow. The fall had left her winded as she looked skyward. Had they won the day? Was the valley clear? what of the others? Questions played out in her mind as she lay in the snow.
No one was coming to kill her, that was a good sign for many reasons. Primarily because there was no way that she could fight in this condition. The snow felt nice.
Hex laughed to herself as she mentally went over the battle in her head. Many things went right and many went wrong, regardless it seemed to be over now.
Hex lay there in the snow resting and not moving her battered body, hoping that Ashilda would soon stop by with that pesky but useful man.
No one was coming to kill her, that was a good sign for many reasons. Primarily because there was no way that she could fight in this condition. The snow felt nice.
Hex laughed to herself as she mentally went over the battle in her head. Many things went right and many went wrong, regardless it seemed to be over now.
Hex lay there in the snow resting and not moving her battered body, hoping that Ashilda would soon stop by with that pesky but useful man.
~
[i]The [b]Kona[/b] is dead, long live the [b]Witches[/b][/i]
[i]The [b]Kona[/b] is dead, long live the [b]Witches[/b][/i]
-
Ashilda da'Svafa
Ashilda couldn't quite suppress the cry of pain as the shot reopened the wound in her arm. Dark spots flashed in front of her eyes for a few flickers, but she somehow kept from passing out. She blinked a few times to clear her vision, then tried to take stock of the current situation. The first thing she saw was the soldier lying on his back in the snow, her arrow protruding from his chest. Her lips pulled back in a grin of triumph at the sight.
The second thing she saw was Hex collapse to the ground. Her heart leapt into her throat, and she went to ruch to her friend's aid. It was a false start at first, she she snagged on the bushes as she tried to push her way through, but at last she was crossing the clearing to drop beside the warrior. The woman's eyes were open and her chest rose and fell with breathing, and Ashilda gave a sigh of relief. Her eyes ran over the woman's injuries, but it was difficult to be sure how much of the blood was hers. The tear in her clothing certainly suggested that she had been hit hard in the leg, but the young da'Svafa had never paid much attention to the healers while she was growing up.
An idea struck her and she spoke quickly and softly. "Hex, can you hear me? We got all the ones that came after us, Hex. I'm going to find Ortus - he knows more of healing than either of us, and I'm not strong enough to lift you. You'll be fine here for a few burns, won't you?" She waited just long enough to hear a response, then used the nearby tree to pull herself to her feet. She paused there for a flicker as she waited for her head to stop spinning, then headed over to the fallen soldier.
She would retrieve her arrow later, but for now she wanted his sword. It looked light enough that she thought she'd be able to swing it one-handed, and it would be better defence than a bow she was in no condition to shoot. Looking down at the body at her feet, she made sure there were no signs of life. Hex was in no condition to defend herself either, that much was apparent, and the young woman didn't want to leave her friend with an enemy who might find a last spark of strength and fire his bow. She steeled herself to slit the man's throat it it looked like there was nay chance he wasn't completely dead.
Having armed herself and reassured herself that her friend was a safe as she could contrive for now, she started moving slowly and steadily in the direction of their original confrontation with the soldiers. She had seen Ortus there, shocked in the face of his contrymen's attack, kneeling and praying instead of fighting back or at the least finding somewhere safe to hide. It wasn't far from where she was, but seemed as though it took a lifetime to reach the spot where she last remembered seeing him. Her wound throbbed with every step, and her vision swam.
The second thing she saw was Hex collapse to the ground. Her heart leapt into her throat, and she went to ruch to her friend's aid. It was a false start at first, she she snagged on the bushes as she tried to push her way through, but at last she was crossing the clearing to drop beside the warrior. The woman's eyes were open and her chest rose and fell with breathing, and Ashilda gave a sigh of relief. Her eyes ran over the woman's injuries, but it was difficult to be sure how much of the blood was hers. The tear in her clothing certainly suggested that she had been hit hard in the leg, but the young da'Svafa had never paid much attention to the healers while she was growing up.
An idea struck her and she spoke quickly and softly. "Hex, can you hear me? We got all the ones that came after us, Hex. I'm going to find Ortus - he knows more of healing than either of us, and I'm not strong enough to lift you. You'll be fine here for a few burns, won't you?" She waited just long enough to hear a response, then used the nearby tree to pull herself to her feet. She paused there for a flicker as she waited for her head to stop spinning, then headed over to the fallen soldier.
She would retrieve her arrow later, but for now she wanted his sword. It looked light enough that she thought she'd be able to swing it one-handed, and it would be better defence than a bow she was in no condition to shoot. Looking down at the body at her feet, she made sure there were no signs of life. Hex was in no condition to defend herself either, that much was apparent, and the young woman didn't want to leave her friend with an enemy who might find a last spark of strength and fire his bow. She steeled herself to slit the man's throat it it looked like there was nay chance he wasn't completely dead.
Having armed herself and reassured herself that her friend was a safe as she could contrive for now, she started moving slowly and steadily in the direction of their original confrontation with the soldiers. She had seen Ortus there, shocked in the face of his contrymen's attack, kneeling and praying instead of fighting back or at the least finding somewhere safe to hide. It wasn't far from where she was, but seemed as though it took a lifetime to reach the spot where she last remembered seeing him. Her wound throbbed with every step, and her vision swam.
OOC: Ok ladies! We're in business. I have spoke with Saskia and Maeve and we are ready to proceed. I have read all three threads up unto this point and we'll be closing this thread out and opening another new one in the very near future. I hope you enjoy it!
IC:
All:
In the aftermath, the valley lay in tattered ruins. The dead littered the floor of the valley and the corpses of both hippogryph and human could be seen. The legion had cleared a large part of the forest and had burned away all bushes and other potential hiding places, creating a battlefield of burned ash so that they had a good line of sight.
The men had been in a circle, fifty or seventy in all, the other circle holding their crossbows at the ready. Outside the circle.. was the carnage. The burned ash was covered with bleeding hippogryphs, their beaks open with tongues lolling out, their wings ripped off with knives, their chests filled with arrows. Stallion after stallion lay dead... but only the stallions. There was no sign of the herds more plentiful mares, or of any little ones. In between them lay the dead soldiers, sometimes without arms, or their heads, claws ripping their stomaches open. The bodies appeared to be dead for some time, already the stiffness of corpses having given way to limpness and leaking.
They seemed to have the valley alone to themselves. The peaceful quiet was unnerving in a sense. Both Hex and Ashilda could remember the Valley as a vibrant place full of life, warmth and beauty. Now it was dead, cold and ugly. Then it started to snow. This itself was not an unnatural occurrence, but the way it began to snow was unusual to those who had been here before. It was heavier, thicker and was beginning to stick. The temperature was slowly starting to dip.
The mystical shield that once held the icy wind and snow at bay was now gone. Fronigtalle, the bastion of the Ice Queen was dying...
Ashilda
He was dead. There was little doubt. The fire of zealousness had died in his eyes and there was no need to slice his throat. There was an awful sort of finality to knowing he was dead, and knowing there was no way to alter that.
Ashilda trudged off in the direction of where Ortus had last been, the warmer ground , fallen leaves and pine needles crunching beneath her feet. Instead of the young man being where she had left him, what she found was a series of tracks leading off in one direction. At first they were merely one set of prints, but then they passed closed to a small outcropping of trees and suddenly there were tracks everywhere.
Wild, scattered footprints and blood in the mud and snowy patches suggested some sort of struggle and then the tracks went off in another direction. They were easy to follow, two pairs of heavy boots dragging something between them. The only thing that was difficult to distinguish was if they were staying inside the warmer climate of the valley, or had ventured out into the frigid cold once more. Only following the tracks would reveal that answer to that mystery.
IC:
All:
In the aftermath, the valley lay in tattered ruins. The dead littered the floor of the valley and the corpses of both hippogryph and human could be seen. The legion had cleared a large part of the forest and had burned away all bushes and other potential hiding places, creating a battlefield of burned ash so that they had a good line of sight.
The men had been in a circle, fifty or seventy in all, the other circle holding their crossbows at the ready. Outside the circle.. was the carnage. The burned ash was covered with bleeding hippogryphs, their beaks open with tongues lolling out, their wings ripped off with knives, their chests filled with arrows. Stallion after stallion lay dead... but only the stallions. There was no sign of the herds more plentiful mares, or of any little ones. In between them lay the dead soldiers, sometimes without arms, or their heads, claws ripping their stomaches open. The bodies appeared to be dead for some time, already the stiffness of corpses having given way to limpness and leaking.
They seemed to have the valley alone to themselves. The peaceful quiet was unnerving in a sense. Both Hex and Ashilda could remember the Valley as a vibrant place full of life, warmth and beauty. Now it was dead, cold and ugly. Then it started to snow. This itself was not an unnatural occurrence, but the way it began to snow was unusual to those who had been here before. It was heavier, thicker and was beginning to stick. The temperature was slowly starting to dip.
The mystical shield that once held the icy wind and snow at bay was now gone. Fronigtalle, the bastion of the Ice Queen was dying...
Ashilda
He was dead. There was little doubt. The fire of zealousness had died in his eyes and there was no need to slice his throat. There was an awful sort of finality to knowing he was dead, and knowing there was no way to alter that.
Ashilda trudged off in the direction of where Ortus had last been, the warmer ground , fallen leaves and pine needles crunching beneath her feet. Instead of the young man being where she had left him, what she found was a series of tracks leading off in one direction. At first they were merely one set of prints, but then they passed closed to a small outcropping of trees and suddenly there were tracks everywhere.
Wild, scattered footprints and blood in the mud and snowy patches suggested some sort of struggle and then the tracks went off in another direction. They were easy to follow, two pairs of heavy boots dragging something between them. The only thing that was difficult to distinguish was if they were staying inside the warmer climate of the valley, or had ventured out into the frigid cold once more. Only following the tracks would reveal that answer to that mystery.
-
Ashilda da'Svafa
OOC: Yay! Welcome, Van! 
I'm sure we will.
IC:
As Ashilda moved away from Hex, the results of the battle became more noticable. It was difficult to tell if the tears in her eyes were from sorrow or anger as she looke dover the once-lush Valley, but her jaw was set and her lips pressed into a grim line as she looked for the young man they had taken in.
The falling snow was worrying, as was the dropping temperature. The young woman hunched in on herself to preserve body heat as she walked, wishing that she hadn't left her winter cloak with the sleds outside the Valley. The sword she carried was heavy, too, but she didn't know of any other way to carry it except to hold it in her hand and she wasn't willing to leave it behind just yet.
That decision seemed wise a few flickers later as she came across the signs of a struggle near where Ortus had been. She bit of a curse as she studied the tracks on the ground. Tracking had never been one of her skills. Konsti, I really wish you were here, she thought glumly. Her brother was skilled at tracking and hunting, and she could use even a fragment of his skill right now.
She looked off in the direction the tracks led. It would be stupid to follow them alone, she thought. I'm sorry, Ortus, but whatever's happening to you is going to have to happen for a little longer. I'm not going to chase after you and end up getting both of us caught, and Hex needs me first. That thought encouraged her. If she could help Hex, and find the Guardian and Irmgard, then they could all chase after Ortus together.
She looked around to get her bearings. They had brought their packs with them, and she was sure there would be some things she could use in there. Once she had retrieved the packs, she would hurry back to her friend and see what she could do to bandage both their wounds. As she went, she also called to the Guardian and her cousin, hoping that they were still able to respond.
I'm sure we will.
IC:
As Ashilda moved away from Hex, the results of the battle became more noticable. It was difficult to tell if the tears in her eyes were from sorrow or anger as she looke dover the once-lush Valley, but her jaw was set and her lips pressed into a grim line as she looked for the young man they had taken in.
The falling snow was worrying, as was the dropping temperature. The young woman hunched in on herself to preserve body heat as she walked, wishing that she hadn't left her winter cloak with the sleds outside the Valley. The sword she carried was heavy, too, but she didn't know of any other way to carry it except to hold it in her hand and she wasn't willing to leave it behind just yet.
That decision seemed wise a few flickers later as she came across the signs of a struggle near where Ortus had been. She bit of a curse as she studied the tracks on the ground. Tracking had never been one of her skills. Konsti, I really wish you were here, she thought glumly. Her brother was skilled at tracking and hunting, and she could use even a fragment of his skill right now.
She looked off in the direction the tracks led. It would be stupid to follow them alone, she thought. I'm sorry, Ortus, but whatever's happening to you is going to have to happen for a little longer. I'm not going to chase after you and end up getting both of us caught, and Hex needs me first. That thought encouraged her. If she could help Hex, and find the Guardian and Irmgard, then they could all chase after Ortus together.
She looked around to get her bearings. They had brought their packs with them, and she was sure there would be some things she could use in there. Once she had retrieved the packs, she would hurry back to her friend and see what she could do to bandage both their wounds. As she went, she also called to the Guardian and her cousin, hoping that they were still able to respond.
-
Hex da`Bergliin
- Warrior Priest
- Posts: 742
- Joined: Thu May 08, 2003 1:08 am
- Location: Frozen wastes of Trothgard
Hex lay in the snow. The silence now was almost defining in the aftermath of the battle. For Hex though it was battle that made the woman, that intrinsic quality that had set her apart from the other women she had encountered on her travels. Perhaps once again she would travel, but for as far as she could see that was going to be a long time from now.
She could hear the trees groaning and creaking in the wind blowing snow here and there. It had been a good day for battle, cool and crisp, all done within the favor of the Queen. As small flakes of snow fluttered down to land on her, Hex wondered why the Queen had decided to take away the shield from the valley. Perhaps she had decided that it was time for the hippogryphs to move to a new home. Perhaps the trek to the valley had become to easy for the women of Trothgard, perhaps they were to find a new path for their feathers. Riddles that she would not solve laying in the snow on her back, even though it was pretty to see the snow softly falling.
Grunting, Hex rolled over and pulled herself to her feat once again. Ashilda had gone off to find the others but it was the absence of noise from the direction of the Guardian that perked Hex’s interest. Moving very slow and using her pole-arm as a walking stick, Hex hobbled with some effort back towards the ridge where she would be able to get a view of the battle that took place there.
She had no worry that Ashilda would be able to find her, her trail could be followed by a child in the dark. Ashilda’s voice carried upon the wind causing Hex’s eyes to narrow in question of what was going on. Her effort to make it to the ridge just became a little more focused.
She could hear the trees groaning and creaking in the wind blowing snow here and there. It had been a good day for battle, cool and crisp, all done within the favor of the Queen. As small flakes of snow fluttered down to land on her, Hex wondered why the Queen had decided to take away the shield from the valley. Perhaps she had decided that it was time for the hippogryphs to move to a new home. Perhaps the trek to the valley had become to easy for the women of Trothgard, perhaps they were to find a new path for their feathers. Riddles that she would not solve laying in the snow on her back, even though it was pretty to see the snow softly falling.
Grunting, Hex rolled over and pulled herself to her feat once again. Ashilda had gone off to find the others but it was the absence of noise from the direction of the Guardian that perked Hex’s interest. Moving very slow and using her pole-arm as a walking stick, Hex hobbled with some effort back towards the ridge where she would be able to get a view of the battle that took place there.
She had no worry that Ashilda would be able to find her, her trail could be followed by a child in the dark. Ashilda’s voice carried upon the wind causing Hex’s eyes to narrow in question of what was going on. Her effort to make it to the ridge just became a little more focused.
~
[i]The [b]Kona[/b] is dead, long live the [b]Witches[/b][/i]
[i]The [b]Kona[/b] is dead, long live the [b]Witches[/b][/i]
The snow fell and the wind blew and it was apparent that the valley would be covered in snow and ice much as the rest of Trothgard before many days would pass. Ashilda had little trouble retrieving the packs. By the time she was finished, Hex could be spotted limping along towards where the core of the battle must have taken place.
The low moans and groans of pain from the survivors of the battle could now be heard as Hex and Ashilda neared the site of the actual battle. It was near the center of the ring of death where they found the Guardian. He was lying on his side, pierced by a score of arrows and several spears. His blood, thick as his hide, pooled in several places around him as did the torn and broken bodies of at least a dozen of the invaders. Even battle hardened veterans would have balked at the carnage that surrounded them. The Guardian had quite literally torn them limb from limb before succumbing to his wounds, his white fur soaked thick with red everywhere.
As they approached, a low rumble came from him.
"Daughterrrrrrsss. Victorrrrrrry is yourrrrrrrsssss."
The Guardian took a slow, deep intake of air, and did not sound as if it were long for this world. There was a painful, wheezing croak to it's words and breath. The end for the noble creature was not far off. It had helped cleanse the valley of the invasion, but it seemed at the price of it's life.
"Go in peace daughterrrrrrrssss... This place is no morrrrrrrrrre..." It hissed and with a final, shuddering breath, it was no more, leaving the women alone with many faces of death that surrounded them.
The low moans and groans of pain from the survivors of the battle could now be heard as Hex and Ashilda neared the site of the actual battle. It was near the center of the ring of death where they found the Guardian. He was lying on his side, pierced by a score of arrows and several spears. His blood, thick as his hide, pooled in several places around him as did the torn and broken bodies of at least a dozen of the invaders. Even battle hardened veterans would have balked at the carnage that surrounded them. The Guardian had quite literally torn them limb from limb before succumbing to his wounds, his white fur soaked thick with red everywhere.
As they approached, a low rumble came from him.
"Daughterrrrrrsss. Victorrrrrrry is yourrrrrrrsssss."
The Guardian took a slow, deep intake of air, and did not sound as if it were long for this world. There was a painful, wheezing croak to it's words and breath. The end for the noble creature was not far off. It had helped cleanse the valley of the invasion, but it seemed at the price of it's life.
"Go in peace daughterrrrrrrssss... This place is no morrrrrrrrrre..." It hissed and with a final, shuddering breath, it was no more, leaving the women alone with many faces of death that surrounded them.
-
Hex da`Bergliin
- Warrior Priest
- Posts: 742
- Joined: Thu May 08, 2003 1:08 am
- Location: Frozen wastes of Trothgard
Soft snow tinkled in the rays of light. The Guardian already had a light dusting of snow on him when she found him. She could hear Ashilda combing up behind her, a quick glance confirmed it. She wondered for a moment where the others were, a thought best saved for later. Pools of blood and bits of the men that lay scattered about were starting to freeze as the cold crept into the valley. There in the middle of it all was her fiend of a friend. Hex hobbled to get close and fell before she reached him. She crawled the last few feet to hear his final words.
She held his head as life left his eyes, the last thing he saw was Hex's face caught in simple smile. He had died then, before Hex could speak but she spoke to him after death.
"I will learn to sing or find one who can so that the tale of this battle shall be sung in the mead halls. A turning point has been crossed here and you were a hero in this battle. Go now my friend to Her embrace, may we meet again."
With that Hex put down the big head and pushed herself to her feet. Soft snow started to cover the carnage. Red splotches melted through where the bits were still warm enough to do so.
Hex turned with a grim face to Ashilda...
"Come, this is his valley now. Let us leave so that the Queen can reclaim this land and once again cover it with frost and snow. Let us go back to our camp site and figure out where we are and what we are doing."
Indeed! What the frozen depths was she doing? She had not yet heard from Ashilda where the others were but this was one smart girl so she would have brought them with her. They have either fled or died. Dead either way. The Queen had decided to freeze over the valley and who was to second guess the Queen? Not her, and that she was certain. Her leg was paining her so she knew that she was not going to get far in the next few days so in her mind she was going to wait here, heal up and listen to what Ashilda had to say. Where did she want to go? It would take a bit to round up the dogs but once that was done she thought it best to keep headed North towards the Guardian's people and the Queen's Palace. Hex's mind reeled with the largeness of the tasks she had put out before her. She felt that her people were becoming soft, and the way to inspire a people was to lead them by example. She had to learn her magic and she needed the blessing of the Queen before she went back to displace the Kona. Hex snorted and grinned her wicked grin to herself, nothing like going for the top girl, nothing like it."
She held his head as life left his eyes, the last thing he saw was Hex's face caught in simple smile. He had died then, before Hex could speak but she spoke to him after death.
"I will learn to sing or find one who can so that the tale of this battle shall be sung in the mead halls. A turning point has been crossed here and you were a hero in this battle. Go now my friend to Her embrace, may we meet again."
With that Hex put down the big head and pushed herself to her feet. Soft snow started to cover the carnage. Red splotches melted through where the bits were still warm enough to do so.
Hex turned with a grim face to Ashilda...
"Come, this is his valley now. Let us leave so that the Queen can reclaim this land and once again cover it with frost and snow. Let us go back to our camp site and figure out where we are and what we are doing."
Indeed! What the frozen depths was she doing? She had not yet heard from Ashilda where the others were but this was one smart girl so she would have brought them with her. They have either fled or died. Dead either way. The Queen had decided to freeze over the valley and who was to second guess the Queen? Not her, and that she was certain. Her leg was paining her so she knew that she was not going to get far in the next few days so in her mind she was going to wait here, heal up and listen to what Ashilda had to say. Where did she want to go? It would take a bit to round up the dogs but once that was done she thought it best to keep headed North towards the Guardian's people and the Queen's Palace. Hex's mind reeled with the largeness of the tasks she had put out before her. She felt that her people were becoming soft, and the way to inspire a people was to lead them by example. She had to learn her magic and she needed the blessing of the Queen before she went back to displace the Kona. Hex snorted and grinned her wicked grin to herself, nothing like going for the top girl, nothing like it."
Last edited by Hex da`Bergliin on Tue Apr 11, 2006 8:44 pm, edited 1 time in total.
~
[i]The [b]Kona[/b] is dead, long live the [b]Witches[/b][/i]
[i]The [b]Kona[/b] is dead, long live the [b]Witches[/b][/i]
-
Ashilda da'Svafa
Ashilda hung back as Hex approached the dying Guardian, staring in awe at the carnage he had wrought. It seemed incredible that a single being could have destroyed so many soldiers, and the enormity of that achievement made the fact of his impending death seem grossly unfair. For a brief flicker her mind railed against the injustice of the huge beast's sacrifice before she pulled herself together. He was one of the Queen's servants, and Torthgard's deity was a stern taskmistress. If she felt that his sacrifice was necessary, it certainly wasn't the place of a mere girl to stamp and shout "It's not fair!" In fact, it wouldn't even be the place of a women to do so!
Tears stood in her eyes nonetheless as she listened to Hex's impassioned speech. The Guardian had been a warrior, and deserved a warrior's honours. She nodded slowly at Hex's words, even as her mind rebelled at the thought of the lush Valley becoming frozen like the rest of their land. Where would the hippogryphs hunt and raise their young? Where would the young people of the Clans go to meditate in safety and silence as they made that transition from childhood to adulthood? Bile rose in her throat as she looked around her again and she swallowed hard.
She lowered the sword she carried and leaned on it like an elder's walking stick. "Returning to the camp site..." she murmured. "Yes, rest would be good." She could not remember ever feeling so tired, and the wound in her arm was throbbing mercilessly. A thought made its way to the front of her weary mind, however, and she shook herself alert once more. "I need to find Irmgard first." The fact that her cousin had not responded to her calls was concerning, but she knew she could not rest until she knew once and for all what fate had befallen the young woman she had grown up with. She looked at Hex with a worried frown and added, "I saw signs of a struggle over there where we left Ortus," she added, gesturing back towards the top of the ridge. "No body though. I think he's been taken, possibly by a few soldiers that managed to get past us."
Tears stood in her eyes nonetheless as she listened to Hex's impassioned speech. The Guardian had been a warrior, and deserved a warrior's honours. She nodded slowly at Hex's words, even as her mind rebelled at the thought of the lush Valley becoming frozen like the rest of their land. Where would the hippogryphs hunt and raise their young? Where would the young people of the Clans go to meditate in safety and silence as they made that transition from childhood to adulthood? Bile rose in her throat as she looked around her again and she swallowed hard.
She lowered the sword she carried and leaned on it like an elder's walking stick. "Returning to the camp site..." she murmured. "Yes, rest would be good." She could not remember ever feeling so tired, and the wound in her arm was throbbing mercilessly. A thought made its way to the front of her weary mind, however, and she shook herself alert once more. "I need to find Irmgard first." The fact that her cousin had not responded to her calls was concerning, but she knew she could not rest until she knew once and for all what fate had befallen the young woman she had grown up with. She looked at Hex with a worried frown and added, "I saw signs of a struggle over there where we left Ortus," she added, gesturing back towards the top of the ridge. "No body though. I think he's been taken, possibly by a few soldiers that managed to get past us."
OOC: Was waiting for a Hex reply to Ashilda's post, but in case our fine warrior is waiting on me, I'll go... Just a quickie to show I'm reading along...
IC: The search for Irmgard found her alone under a soft dusting of snow and ice. Her eyes and lips were frozen and it was unclear if she had perished from blood loss from her wounds, or exposure to the growing cold. Either way, her fate had been sealed and she was beyond the pain and suffering of the mortal world.
The snow fell, blowing in soft, lazy circles in the icy breezes that this valley had not felt in ages. There was a word for the dying battle the valley was fighting now. It was an old Trothgardian word that many never dared utter, but seemed eeriely apt now.
Sjovolkor...
In many translations it meant the "Dying Struggle". Some translated it as the "Last Battle".
Sjovolkor...
Even the wind seemed to utter it's name upon its frigid breath...
IC: The search for Irmgard found her alone under a soft dusting of snow and ice. Her eyes and lips were frozen and it was unclear if she had perished from blood loss from her wounds, or exposure to the growing cold. Either way, her fate had been sealed and she was beyond the pain and suffering of the mortal world.
The snow fell, blowing in soft, lazy circles in the icy breezes that this valley had not felt in ages. There was a word for the dying battle the valley was fighting now. It was an old Trothgardian word that many never dared utter, but seemed eeriely apt now.
Sjovolkor...
In many translations it meant the "Dying Struggle". Some translated it as the "Last Battle".
Sjovolkor...
Even the wind seemed to utter it's name upon its frigid breath...
-
Ashilda da'Svafa
When Ashilda's search turned up the body of her cousin, she sank to her knees beside the still form. A terrible grief filled her. The Guardian's sacrifice was one thing - he was a warrior, and the chance of him dying in service to the Queen would have been possibility for most of his life. Irmgard was a different matter, however. She was a bead maker! she thought despairingly. She was even less fit to be a warrior than I am!
Her eyes fell on the feather tied in her cousin's braids. It had been less than a moon since the woman had completed her Rite. Less than a moon since the Ice Queen had favoured her with the token that bespoke her adulthood. She had probably carved the large bead with the Svafa star with her own hands. Tears left frosty tracks down Ashilda's face as she reached out and freed the feather from its ties.
"I will take this back to the Clan," she murmured. "I will tell them how you died defending the sacred Valley from intruders who would defile it. You will be remembered with honour, and with love. Fare you well, cousin." As she rose, the grief inside her hardened to a fierce resolution. She would get to the bottom of this trouble that was plaguing the land. Tucking the beaded feather into the pouch at her waist, she returned to Hex's side.
"It appears it is down to the pair of us once more," she said, her voice tight with emotion. "I think you're right - leaving this place sounds like a good idea. We could both do with some attention to our wounds, and we need to decide what we will do about Ortus." Her lips twisted in a grimace comprised of both annoyance and pain.
Her eyes fell on the feather tied in her cousin's braids. It had been less than a moon since the woman had completed her Rite. Less than a moon since the Ice Queen had favoured her with the token that bespoke her adulthood. She had probably carved the large bead with the Svafa star with her own hands. Tears left frosty tracks down Ashilda's face as she reached out and freed the feather from its ties.
"I will take this back to the Clan," she murmured. "I will tell them how you died defending the sacred Valley from intruders who would defile it. You will be remembered with honour, and with love. Fare you well, cousin." As she rose, the grief inside her hardened to a fierce resolution. She would get to the bottom of this trouble that was plaguing the land. Tucking the beaded feather into the pouch at her waist, she returned to Hex's side.
"It appears it is down to the pair of us once more," she said, her voice tight with emotion. "I think you're right - leaving this place sounds like a good idea. We could both do with some attention to our wounds, and we need to decide what we will do about Ortus." Her lips twisted in a grimace comprised of both annoyance and pain.
-
Hex da`Bergliin
- Warrior Priest
- Posts: 742
- Joined: Thu May 08, 2003 1:08 am
- Location: Frozen wastes of Trothgard
Hex had tried to make herself useful while Ashilda had gone out scouting. Hex could see that her companion was also hurt but she had not complained once. Having to fight for ones life does indeed put things into perspective. Perhaps she was no longer worried about her feather, now she was becoming worried about the land. Rite or no rite, she had passed from being a girl to being a woman long ago. Hex smiled to herself as her small fire sparked to life.
Hex was boiling water for gruel when Ashilda returned with the news. Hex simply nodded as she spoke taking in each piece of new information as it was reveled to her.
"Ortus will be killed. His fate I belive is sealed. He will either be killed by his own, by the land or by us if he chooses to attack us. Either way, he is dead."
Hex shrugged and continued to make the food.
"Your cousin died trying to do a great thing, a thing that none could do alone and a thing that is still yet to be completed. Men still walk the valley and with the snowfall they will be hard to track. I am in no shape to hop after them tonight, perhaps tomorrow."
Hex gave a quick wink.
"So you desire to leave, this is good for I to wish to be on my way. I hope that I have someone like you, if not you, for the duration of my quest. You are a good friend and a fine woman. You handled yourself well in this valley and you handle your grief just as well. You are a true woman of Trothgard Ashilda. You are strong and fierce, yet passionate and thoughtful. You are a good role-model for women of the future, a future of this land that I belive will be very different from our present. There are strong winds blowing across this land and you and I have a long journey ahead of us."
Hex pulled out her knife.
"For the moment though I need you to practice some sewing skills and stich this leg of mine closed."
Hex cut open her leggings to expose her wound. As she did she took out one of her leather gloves to prepare to bite down as her wound needed to be cleaned and stiched.
"You don't have any healing runes I take it."
Hex gave her a quick smile as she tossed out her sewing kit that she used to repair her clothes on the long journey.
Hex was boiling water for gruel when Ashilda returned with the news. Hex simply nodded as she spoke taking in each piece of new information as it was reveled to her.
"Ortus will be killed. His fate I belive is sealed. He will either be killed by his own, by the land or by us if he chooses to attack us. Either way, he is dead."
Hex shrugged and continued to make the food.
"Your cousin died trying to do a great thing, a thing that none could do alone and a thing that is still yet to be completed. Men still walk the valley and with the snowfall they will be hard to track. I am in no shape to hop after them tonight, perhaps tomorrow."
Hex gave a quick wink.
"So you desire to leave, this is good for I to wish to be on my way. I hope that I have someone like you, if not you, for the duration of my quest. You are a good friend and a fine woman. You handled yourself well in this valley and you handle your grief just as well. You are a true woman of Trothgard Ashilda. You are strong and fierce, yet passionate and thoughtful. You are a good role-model for women of the future, a future of this land that I belive will be very different from our present. There are strong winds blowing across this land and you and I have a long journey ahead of us."
Hex pulled out her knife.
"For the moment though I need you to practice some sewing skills and stich this leg of mine closed."
Hex cut open her leggings to expose her wound. As she did she took out one of her leather gloves to prepare to bite down as her wound needed to be cleaned and stiched.
"You don't have any healing runes I take it."
Hex gave her a quick smile as she tossed out her sewing kit that she used to repair her clothes on the long journey.
~
[i]The [b]Kona[/b] is dead, long live the [b]Witches[/b][/i]
[i]The [b]Kona[/b] is dead, long live the [b]Witches[/b][/i]
-
Ashilda da'Svafa
Seeing Hex had built a small fire, Ashilda moved gratefully towards the warmth. Used to the cold as she was, there was something about it being cold here that was affecting her much more than it should. Perhaps it was only in her mind, but the cold seemed somehow deeper. She held out her hands to the warmth as she pondered her companion's comments.
Her bleak assessment of Ortus' chances was a little distressing. Despite her distaste for the young man, the idea of abandoning him to the mercies of the soldiers - men he'd admited would burn him alive for what they perceived as treachery - seemed heartless. But, she thought, I was never taught the way of these things. I had no interest in fighting or hunting. This might be the normal way of things. What truly happens when a hunter fails to return with the group? Did the others have to make a choice between saving one life and returning with enough game that the rest of the Clan can survive? How do they do it? How does Hex do it? She seems to think it's nothing unusual... She chewed on her lip as she thought, not finding an answer but not willing to raise the topic for discussion. There was a fairly good chance she wasn't going to like the answers, she she held her peace and hoped that experience would bring her a solution.
A smile tugged at the corner of her lips at the warrior's quip about hopping after the remaining soldiers, but her troubled thoughts and the knowledge that when she returned home she would have to explain her cousin's death made her amusement fleeting. Some of her melancholy was dispelled by the older woman's praise, however, and she managed a more genuine smile. "You're kind to say so, Hex," she replied. "But if you think I would make a good role model for other women, then you should know that you've become mine. You are always so sure of what needs to be done, and so ready to go and do it regardless of how difficult or unpleasant it is. You have an understanding of the Queen deeper than many of the preistesses I've met - and the Svafa's seem to breed priestesses as often as they breed runecrafters, so I've known a few." She shook her head slowly, her eyes going to the snow-covered woods around them. "You are right that our land is changing though." Her voice was sad. "Even this Valley seems to be touched by the Goddess no longer."
Hee gaze snapped back to Hex as the woman pointed out the need to stitch the wound closed. She had seen the procedure performed - it hadn't been that many moons since Konstantine had suffered a bad gash to the arm while hunting and had been sewn together. It had been a credit to the healers involved that he still had full use of his arm, their mother had said. Looking at the long slash in Hex's leg, the blood drained from her face. Could she do a good enough job to let the wound heal soundly? A warrior needed both legs as much as both arms. But there's no one else, she reminded herself. Ortus may have been able to do it, but Ortus is gone. Hex isn't going to be able to sew her own leg closed! It has to be you!
Taking a deep breath, she caught the sewing kit Hex tossed her and returned the woman's smile. "Sadly not," she replied. "And unless the Ice Queen wishes to grant me the gift of insight, I'm not even sure where to begin scribing one!" She paused for a moment, just in case the suggested flash of insight was forthcoming, then shrugged. "I guess it's down to sewing then."
The thought that struck her then may or may not have come from the Queen, but she thought of the provisions she had been gifted by the elders of Grimkell. "Did I see a flask of spirits in there?" she asked softly, more to herself than her companion. She snagged the strap of her pack with her good hand and pulled it towards her, rummaging through to see if she could find and alcohol. It was a common thing to take into the wilderness, both for its warming effects and its use in cleaning wounds. If she couldn't find any, she would have to make do with melted snow.
Her bleak assessment of Ortus' chances was a little distressing. Despite her distaste for the young man, the idea of abandoning him to the mercies of the soldiers - men he'd admited would burn him alive for what they perceived as treachery - seemed heartless. But, she thought, I was never taught the way of these things. I had no interest in fighting or hunting. This might be the normal way of things. What truly happens when a hunter fails to return with the group? Did the others have to make a choice between saving one life and returning with enough game that the rest of the Clan can survive? How do they do it? How does Hex do it? She seems to think it's nothing unusual... She chewed on her lip as she thought, not finding an answer but not willing to raise the topic for discussion. There was a fairly good chance she wasn't going to like the answers, she she held her peace and hoped that experience would bring her a solution.
A smile tugged at the corner of her lips at the warrior's quip about hopping after the remaining soldiers, but her troubled thoughts and the knowledge that when she returned home she would have to explain her cousin's death made her amusement fleeting. Some of her melancholy was dispelled by the older woman's praise, however, and she managed a more genuine smile. "You're kind to say so, Hex," she replied. "But if you think I would make a good role model for other women, then you should know that you've become mine. You are always so sure of what needs to be done, and so ready to go and do it regardless of how difficult or unpleasant it is. You have an understanding of the Queen deeper than many of the preistesses I've met - and the Svafa's seem to breed priestesses as often as they breed runecrafters, so I've known a few." She shook her head slowly, her eyes going to the snow-covered woods around them. "You are right that our land is changing though." Her voice was sad. "Even this Valley seems to be touched by the Goddess no longer."
Hee gaze snapped back to Hex as the woman pointed out the need to stitch the wound closed. She had seen the procedure performed - it hadn't been that many moons since Konstantine had suffered a bad gash to the arm while hunting and had been sewn together. It had been a credit to the healers involved that he still had full use of his arm, their mother had said. Looking at the long slash in Hex's leg, the blood drained from her face. Could she do a good enough job to let the wound heal soundly? A warrior needed both legs as much as both arms. But there's no one else, she reminded herself. Ortus may have been able to do it, but Ortus is gone. Hex isn't going to be able to sew her own leg closed! It has to be you!
Taking a deep breath, she caught the sewing kit Hex tossed her and returned the woman's smile. "Sadly not," she replied. "And unless the Ice Queen wishes to grant me the gift of insight, I'm not even sure where to begin scribing one!" She paused for a moment, just in case the suggested flash of insight was forthcoming, then shrugged. "I guess it's down to sewing then."
The thought that struck her then may or may not have come from the Queen, but she thought of the provisions she had been gifted by the elders of Grimkell. "Did I see a flask of spirits in there?" she asked softly, more to herself than her companion. She snagged the strap of her pack with her good hand and pulled it towards her, rummaging through to see if she could find and alcohol. It was a common thing to take into the wilderness, both for its warming effects and its use in cleaning wounds. If she couldn't find any, she would have to make do with melted snow.
-
Hex da`Bergliin
- Warrior Priest
- Posts: 742
- Joined: Thu May 08, 2003 1:08 am
- Location: Frozen wastes of Trothgard
Hex looked as Ashilda looked for the spirits....
"Now is hardly the time for drink..." and then she threw her head back and laughed.
"You pay me great honour sister, a great honour indeed. Alone I am but a lone woman, together we are people doing a thing and it does not seem so insane then. I agree that one must think that the Queen has pulled her favor, but one can also look at it as she has extended her favor. She is the land and the wind, to say that she has forsaken us or this valley would have us sitting in a place without snow or wind or the cold that gnaws at us to be stronger. No, I belive that she has begun a new time here and we must learn her reason and intention if we are to survive with her."
Hex lowered her head and then shook it side to side...
"I fear some have grown used to the comforts of a warm fire, sturdy stone walls and a snug bed. These comforts can be nice but one must remember our connection to the land and to our Queen."
Hex paused and readied herself for the stich work. She will want to sleep after the long gash is sewn.
"Now is hardly the time for drink..." and then she threw her head back and laughed.
"You pay me great honour sister, a great honour indeed. Alone I am but a lone woman, together we are people doing a thing and it does not seem so insane then. I agree that one must think that the Queen has pulled her favor, but one can also look at it as she has extended her favor. She is the land and the wind, to say that she has forsaken us or this valley would have us sitting in a place without snow or wind or the cold that gnaws at us to be stronger. No, I belive that she has begun a new time here and we must learn her reason and intention if we are to survive with her."
Hex lowered her head and then shook it side to side...
"I fear some have grown used to the comforts of a warm fire, sturdy stone walls and a snug bed. These comforts can be nice but one must remember our connection to the land and to our Queen."
Hex paused and readied herself for the stich work. She will want to sleep after the long gash is sewn.
~
[i]The [b]Kona[/b] is dead, long live the [b]Witches[/b][/i]
[i]The [b]Kona[/b] is dead, long live the [b]Witches[/b][/i]
-
Ashilda da'Svafa
Ashilda shook her head at Hex's laughter. She didn't feel much like laughing herself, and wondered if her friend was entirely in her right mind. It wasn't something that one could ask, however, so she contented herself with replying, "Actually, it's probably the best time for a drink if I can find some. It will dull the pain a bit while I work." She searched for a couple of burns longer. If she found the flask, she would encourage Hex to take a long swig before using it to wash the wound. If not, she would wash the wound with melted snow and begin the sewing anyway.
Threading the needle was tricky, what with the half-light and the fact that one hand was not answering her command quite as readily as normal. When she finally had it done, however, she shifted around so that she could work on the cut without her shadow falling over it. The first thing to do was to set the torn flesh in place, and she did this carefully in the hope that it would heal without puckering too much. When she had the two sides of the wound aligned to her satisfaction, she nodded towards it. "Can you put your hand here and hold it like this?" she asked Hex. "I don't want to risk letting go while I work."
She then began the horrible process of stitching the cut. The thread made a horrible scratchy sound as it pulled through flesh, and she tried not to think too hard about what she was actually doing. Instead, she concentrated on keeping the stitches even - not digging too deep or pulling too tight on any of them. By the time she finally reached the end of the cut, sweat was pouring down her face and neck from the tension she hadn't even been fully aware of. She sat back and looked at it critically. "That's the best we can do for now," she said softly. "Are you alright?" Her eyes searched her friend's face in concern.
In the back of her mind was the thought that she still needed to tend her own injury, but she was sure that it was far smaller than Hex's. Washing it and bandaging it properly would probably do well enough.
Threading the needle was tricky, what with the half-light and the fact that one hand was not answering her command quite as readily as normal. When she finally had it done, however, she shifted around so that she could work on the cut without her shadow falling over it. The first thing to do was to set the torn flesh in place, and she did this carefully in the hope that it would heal without puckering too much. When she had the two sides of the wound aligned to her satisfaction, she nodded towards it. "Can you put your hand here and hold it like this?" she asked Hex. "I don't want to risk letting go while I work."
She then began the horrible process of stitching the cut. The thread made a horrible scratchy sound as it pulled through flesh, and she tried not to think too hard about what she was actually doing. Instead, she concentrated on keeping the stitches even - not digging too deep or pulling too tight on any of them. By the time she finally reached the end of the cut, sweat was pouring down her face and neck from the tension she hadn't even been fully aware of. She sat back and looked at it critically. "That's the best we can do for now," she said softly. "Are you alright?" Her eyes searched her friend's face in concern.
In the back of her mind was the thought that she still needed to tend her own injury, but she was sure that it was far smaller than Hex's. Washing it and bandaging it properly would probably do well enough.
-
Hex da`Bergliin
- Warrior Priest
- Posts: 742
- Joined: Thu May 08, 2003 1:08 am
- Location: Frozen wastes of Trothgard
OOC: I will let you write the last post of this thread!
Hex took one of her leather mits out of her mouth and put in a handful of the fresh snow. It was cool and soothing compared to the throbbing heat of her leg. Ashilda had been kind and careful with her stitch work. She knew that she did not have a great amount of experience with this type of healing but Hex was grateful for what her friend did have. Hex on the other hand having practically none.
Hex smiled..
"Thanks for trying to make me pretty. I am sorry I am in no shape to look after your wounds, I assume that you will be ok to do it yourself. I should have done you first. Sorry. I think I should rest."
With that Hex lay back to the ground to find her place to sleep and heal after a long day.
Hex took one of her leather mits out of her mouth and put in a handful of the fresh snow. It was cool and soothing compared to the throbbing heat of her leg. Ashilda had been kind and careful with her stitch work. She knew that she did not have a great amount of experience with this type of healing but Hex was grateful for what her friend did have. Hex on the other hand having practically none.
Hex smiled..
"Thanks for trying to make me pretty. I am sorry I am in no shape to look after your wounds, I assume that you will be ok to do it yourself. I should have done you first. Sorry. I think I should rest."
With that Hex lay back to the ground to find her place to sleep and heal after a long day.
~
[i]The [b]Kona[/b] is dead, long live the [b]Witches[/b][/i]
[i]The [b]Kona[/b] is dead, long live the [b]Witches[/b][/i]
-
Ashilda da'Svafa
Ashilda returned the smile, even as she used the fur-lined cuff of her shirt to mop the sweat from her brow. "Well, the prettiness is just a fortunate side effect, I must admit. I didn't want to to end up with a horribly puckered scar that would pull badly when you shift your weight in a fight - I've seen that happen to someone." She discarded the bloodied thread that was still attached to the needle and used some snow to clean the needle itself before tucking it back into Hex's sewing kit.
"Don't worry about my injuries," she assured the woman. "They aren't as bad as yours. I'll just clean the one big cut and wrap it tightly." As Hex lay back and drifted off to sleep, she did just that: cleaning the wound with snow and some clean cloth, then packing snow against it and binding it with the cloth. The cold stung and made her gasp as she worked, but before long her body had adjusted and she was able to slip into much-needed sleep herself.
OOC: Thanks. Now we wait for any closing remarks from Van, and the thread can be closed.
"Don't worry about my injuries," she assured the woman. "They aren't as bad as yours. I'll just clean the one big cut and wrap it tightly." As Hex lay back and drifted off to sleep, she did just that: cleaning the wound with snow and some clean cloth, then packing snow against it and binding it with the cloth. The cold stung and made her gasp as she worked, but before long her body had adjusted and she was able to slip into much-needed sleep herself.
OOC: Thanks.
Now we wait for any closing remarks from Van, and the thread can be closed.