The Winds of Ysgard - Part One

[Legendary Sidekick]

Addison gladly started her visit to town with a hot bath, then dressed herself in a deerskin dress with bone and agate jewelry. It wasn't the best outfit for the festival, but the anaconda qipao was probably too much. The dress she gave Troia was perfect for this occasion. She hoped Troia would think to put it on, but she wasn't big on telling people what to wear. She could imagine what Ainsley would tell her. A little woad, for color. As Addison applied some blue streaks under her eye and across her bare shoulder in response to the advice, she decided she'd wear her turquoise in the agate's stead before imaginary-Ainsley could speak of the matter. You still need a sash, she said.

"I'll buy one," Addison actually said aloud.

She headed out into town with a shocker and coins in her purse. She contemplated approaching a passing dwarf and showing him her shocker. How fun would that be? Probably not much or only at her expense, since she wasn't sure what she'd say. She spied a small outdoor market across the way which, form what she could see through the bustling crowd, sold scarves, sashes, and other accessories.

Some young men took notice of her. She smiled politely at their curious stares, confident that her woad paint would deter any unwanted conversations. Ye know me well, Ainsley, or at least I imagine ye do. She resisted the urge to land a bird on her head… for now… and made eye-contact with the owner of the accessory shop.

"I got this blue and tan thing going." She let her hands flow over her outfit. "I need something that, uhh, brings out more o' the blue."

At her events, it was Ainsley or another fancy lady who did the talking. Addison understood the language of the fashion world, but didn't speak it. Her role was to kill the animals and stitch their skins together to make something pretty. She was content to leave it at that.

"I do model me outfits at times," she said absentmindedly—then seamlessly added, "which is why I say these dumb things like 'bring out the blue' and paint me face. Ye know how the fashion world is, don't ye? I mean… maybe ye don't, or at least not the weird part. I mean…" Addison picked up a scarf. Green and gold. Colors for the kingdom, not her outfit. "Ye make these, right? Addison's me name," she said to the lady. "Addison Lane."

 

[Ireth]

Rikhard gladly accepted the offer of a hot bath, and changed into a clean outfit. It wasn't nearly so fine as those he'd seen on the townsfolk, but he had precious few coin to buy anything different, which made him more than a bit self-conscious. As if the sheer number of people here wasn't enough. He hadn't seen so many in one place since his arrival in the Hintercrown.

What could he do with himself? Any sort of festival was a novelty to him. He didn't want to go out wandering the streets and get lost, but surely the others would scorn him for staying indoors all the time. Maybe he should just stick with one or a few of the others and see what they wanted to do. Einan, Troia or Addison might be best; they were closest to him in age. But where would they be now? He checked the common-room first, and decided to try their rooms if he didn't see them there.

 

[DMThaane]

Loke stayed with Snorri, making sure he was set away from any of the larger horses. Not easy, with the stables so crowded.

Ilstenford. The name seemed familiar but he would not have visited it. His time had been spent in the wilderness, keeping to the smaller towns and villages. Ilstenford was too large and it was walled. Perhaps before… no, he had never been this far west before the Raiders.

In truth he had always felt some discomfort in large settlements. Even living in the Hintercrown he'd spent much of his time in the forest, hunting or training. The rest had been spent in his own hall, reminiscing with old friends or doing his best to be a father for Asbjorn. The throng of people could deafen and blind, but with the weight still on his mind they were a welcome distraction.

He took his sword from his saddle and secured it to his belt. Men responded differently to swords than axes. His clothes were finely made but undecorated. The sword would be suggestion enough.

He took his spare clothes from the wagon and headed in, seeking out his room and having a bath drawn. While he soaked he closed his eyes and an image flashed before them unbidden. Not a pair of golden eyes, no, but a dragon's jaws rushing up at him. For the past few nights he'd had the dream, more vivid than before. He could even make out the dragon's scales: bronze edged in darkest red. He still could not tell the dreams meaning, although he was certain it foretold his death. And yet, was it warning or summons?

He climbed out of the bath, dried himself, shaved the sides of his head and trimmed his bead. Once his braid was retied he dressed, tucking the elven locket under his shirt. He secured his belt, sword and seax attached, and strapped on his splinted bracers. The wolf fur cloak was next, secured with its black iron dragon pin. The elven rings were last, each one pried off a finger belonging to one killed by his own hand.

Satisfied, he returned to the common room and began the evening with a horn of mead.

 

[Nimue]

Farrun shook out his damp hair and buried his face in the drying cloth, still warm from toasting by the fire. Strange to be wholly clean--though he'd not soaked long. It had been tempting, as was the turned-up bed with a sheepskin lying across it. He'd put on a fresh shirt and trews, then merely brushed the worst of the dust from his surcoat and cloak. He did have a few fine tunics packed, if they came to find themselves in a lord's keep or dwarven hall, but if he could get away with it, he'd rather not dress up. Instead he donned gambeson, mail, and coat again, and slung his greatsword across his back. Reassuring weight, among men as well as in the wilderness.

He thudded down the inn stairs and wound his way to the bar again, nodding to Loke at the far end. There was more of a crowd now, or maybe it was only that they were louder--a few tankards louder. Candleflames fluttered in the heady air, rich with the smell of fresh rushes, pipesmoke, and strong drink. A young man with a black beard stumbled into him, then began to apologize profusely, eyes on the sword hilt over his shoulder. Farrun grinned and, with a firm hand on his shoulder, set him on his way again.

He leaned against the bar, and, waiting for the barkeep, greeted the dwarf sitting on a stool next to him. "Fine evening, eh?"

"A fine fair--good drink, good profits!" The dwarf jingled the coinbelt about his portly waist--which also held a wicked-looking knife, of course. He had a magnificient ruby-red beard, braided ornately with fine bronze chain and a tiny ornament in the shape of a hammer.

Farrun chuckled, and remembered a question he'd meant to ask of the barkeep. "What's the occasion? Spring planting? I was passing through, not expecting to find a gathering, just an inn room."

"Ye were lucky to find that!" the dwarf told him readily. "This is Banner Day, and it marks when the Wolf Queen's army freed Ilstenford. Highest holiday until the harvest."

"By the gods!" Farrun said, smacking the bar. "It was!" Five years ago, in fact, the same scene that had crossed his mind on the road to the town, but to the day. At the dwarven gentleman's questioning look, he told him: "I was in that army, sir. I fought here, on the west approach--across the Bearn and up through the wood."

"Then a drink to you, soldier," the barkeep called, topping up a mug of ale and sliding it down to him. Farrun slapped a few coins on the table and shouted back, "And a dram of your thickest mead!"

"Hathvar's horn," he said to himself, thoughtfully, and a grin spread slowly across his face.

 

[Legendary Sidekick]

Addison had no idea what the commotion was all about until the shopkeeper told her. Banner Day? Well, now that I know what day it is, best I put on me green and gold.

As Addison entered the inn, she saw Rikhard in the common room (and Loke and Farrun as well, but Rikhard was on the quieter side of the room). "Ye believe it's Banner Day?—and I hadn't a clue. All this time I spend away from civilization, seems I miss some o' the goings on. Well, I mean to get out and about, but not without wearing the proper colors. Me anaconda dress with some gold and jade'll do.

"How about yourself?" she asked Rikhard. "Ye intend to shop a bit?"

 

[Ireth]

Rikhard looked up as Addy came in, and shrugged as she spoke to him. "I don't have much to spend, and I wouldn't know what to buy anyway. I don't know what Banner Day is."

 

[Legendary Sidekick]

"I don't either," Addison replied. "All I know is five years ago, the Wolf Queen's army freed wherever we are. Ilstenford, I think. Yeah, I know more about the local wildlife than the customs. Still, I can't get all them catty fashionistas out o' me head. Me best dress happens to be the right colors, so best I change so I stop overthinking me outfit and just enjoy what's around me."

As she headed up, she looked back to Rikhard and said, "Ye sure ye won't spend a little o' what the Queen's paying us? Or at least look around? I mean to dress too nice to stand in a tavern drinking meself silly." With that she headed upstairs, thinking back on what she wore in Hala's presence.

 

[Gryphos]

Via some eavesdropping, Bendalitz soon discerned what the celebrations were for. The anniversary of the day Svora freed the village of Ilstenford. How lovely. But Bendalitz wanted no part of it. However, what he wanted would appear to be so very irrelevant. It was there, all around him, impossible to hide from. Might as well embrace it.

"Alright." He leant against the bar and caught the attention of the barkeep. "Give me something merry to drink."

The barkeep chuckled. "Cheer up, man!"

"That's why I'm asking for a drink," said Bendalitz. "I mean, I'm always incredibly cheerful, aren't I, mate?" He looked for a moment at Farrun, then back at the barkeep. "But it's only after alcohol that the cheer becomes visible."

The barkeep shrugged, said, "Alright," and poured him a mug of ale.

Bendalitz placed a precise pile of coins down on the counter and raised his drink to Farrun. "To the Queen, I suppose?"

 

[Nimue]

"Aye, you're the always the picture of merriment, never sharp at all," Farrun rumbled back, amused by Bendalitz's dour face. "Sun shines out your arse." He raised the small cup the bartender had given him, sniffing and eyeing the mead inside with solemn consideration. Then at Bendalitz's proposed toast he clanked it heartily against the smaller Dunman's mug. "To the Queen!" he cried, and across the bar there came back a few echoes, then a few more, belated by drunkenness.

Farrun knocked back his mead and turned on Bendalitz again. "You suppose? What else might you be supposing to toast to? Don't you remember how great and shining she looked, when the elf lord knelt to her and gave her his sword? Well, I don't know that you were there, on that occasion," he wondered, scratching his beard.

"More of the same, barman, in a fine broad cup!" he called in another direction, then leaned back against the bar, set to thinking. "That was what made it such a good day, because there was no siege, and the Yvalhyn gave up the town when we'd torn through their troops and reached the walls. Fearsome sight, Hala Svora. And I think the great angry dragon might have helped too," he added, in a dry undertone to Bendalitz.

With one ear, he heard the conversation between Rikhard and Addison, and shook his head. As soon as the barkeep had poured his mead he paid and took it, and, purse still in hand, headed over to where Rikhard stood by the stairs. "Here," Farrun said, in a tone that brooked no argument, and counted out eight silvers. "Two weeks' pay. I think we can safely forward you that. Spend it or keep it as you like, but it's yours."

 

[Legendary Sidekick]

Addison descended the stairs in her anaconda qipao with jade and gold jewelry. Draped over her shoulders was a shawl made of peacock feathers. It was the same outfit she wore in the presence of the queen… and it usually turned some heads. But at the moment, it seemed the men were too focused on their drinks to take notice.

She wasn't sure what Farrun and Rikhard were discussing, so Addison waited patiently for the conversation to end. She noticed a dwarf sucking the last few drops of alcohol from his tankard. She flashed him a smile, but wasn't sure how to start a conversation. ​Dwarven technology's kept me alive on me toughest hunts… might be nice if I knew more about the people.

 

[AkamaruGames]

At the end of the bar, a dark haired woman laughs as she and a very large man take turns taking shots. They each have a large collection of empty glasses between them and though the large man is looking like he is about to pass out, the woman doesn't seem even the least bit tipsy. She gives a little giggle as she holds up a shot glass and says to the man, "You are not lookeenk very vell, beeg boy. You von't be losing to leettle voman like me veell you?"

The large man shakes his head slowly so as not to vomit, though he is looking like he is losing his will to continue.

The woman tips her head back and downs the glass before placing it on the table and saying, "Good! Remember: You veen and you get a night vith me. I veen and you give me zat nice bag of gold. And let me tell you Chrisania iz very goot een zee bedroom."

At this point the drunkard is way too far gone to realize that he has been had. "I remember!" he proudly slurs out, as he renews his effort to out-drink the woman who is about half of his size, "You're goin down lillll lady!"

She gives a laugh and says, "Zat's zee vay! Dreenk!" as she hands over another glass.

Little does the drunkard know, his opponent has yet to drink a single shot. Using a combination of slight of hand and minor illusion, she continually grabs empty glass after empty glass and pretends to drink while swapping all of her full glasses with the large man. The illusion is convincing. The glasses she grabs for herself do in fact appear to be full, and it would take a very careful eye to notice the switch. Unfortunately for the man, a drunk eye is not a careful one.

The man downs the next shot and turns pale. It is clear that he is far beyond his limit and a deep gurgling sound rumbles from within his stomach. Taking that as her cue, the dark-haired woman quickly grabs a nearby tray and holds it in front of her, just barely deflecting a steady stream of vomit. The vomit bounces back, coating her mark in his own gastronomical juices.

The woman hands the tray to the man, who takes it without thinking before slumping off his stool and onto the floor. Giving a little giggle, she grabs a small coin purse off of the table and places a few gold coins on the bar. "Very sorry, barman. Zees eez for ze drinks and a leettle extra for ze mess."

She then pockets the rest of the money moves to another place to sit, somewhere away from the stench of drunken vomit. At this point she seems to scan the crowd as if looking for someone. Something brought her here and it wasn't the drunken fools...

 

[Ireth]

Rikhard looked around as Farrun approached, and took the eight silvers with a nod. "Thank you." He still wasn't sure what to spend it on, but he might at least look around the town.

Addy came back downstairs, and he smiled at her. "If you're going out again, would you mind if I went with you?"

 

[Legendary Sidekick]

Addison watched the beautiful young lady casually deflect a stream of vomit. When she spoke, her accent was like music. She was about to approach her when a less musical voice broke the trance.

Turning the Rikhard, Addison said almost dreamily, "Why settle for the company o' one lovely lady when ye can hang out with two?" She jerked her thumb toward the mystery woman. "Seems we ain't the only strangers in town. Let's introduce ourselves."

Addy started toward the lady. Usually, the anaconda dress would earn Addison more male attention than she wanted. For now, men's eyes were either focused on the younger woman—or on the floor, in the case of those close to the pool of vomit. Only one pair of eyes traced the length of Addison's leg. She pretended not to notice, eyes fixed on her destination as if doing one o' me runway walks.

She didn't wait for an invitation. She sat next to the lady, allowing Rikhard the option of sitting next to her or across.

"Seems I ain't the only one here with an accent. You're an Etterlander, ain't ye? Me name's Addison Lane." She figured she didn't have to say from Cærn.​ Gesturing toward Rikhard (whether he followed or not), she added, "This's me friend, Rikhard."

 

[Ireth]

Rikhard nodded in greeting as Addy introduced him to the newcomer. "Nice to meet you." He wasn't sure just what to make of her.

 

[Gryphos]

Bendalitz listened to Farrun only mostly paying attention. Roughly sixty percent, while the other forty was going all over the place, from analysing the taste of his ale to internally rolling its eyes at Addison's silly dress. Perhaps it was actually rather less than sixty percent which paid attention to Farrun, for he was not quite sure when the man left him. It took him a second of searching to spot him talking to Farrun, at which point he decided he didn't care about their conversation as much as his drink.

The vomiting display caught his attention, though. He raised his eyebrows at the excellent tray-work, and from then on out, he was listening, even if his drink continued to hold the attention of his eyes and mouth.

 

[DMThaane]

Loke did not raise his horn to toast the Wolf Queen but he did steal a mug of ale from a passing tray, moving to the centre of the room.

"What else to toast?" he asked the room. "I can think of others worthy. To those who fought to free these lands!" He raised the mug to the cheer, then took a sip. "To those who still fight to see those chains do not return!" Another cheer, another sip. "To those whose blood shall forever stain the soil!” A more solemn cheer at that, but another sip regardless. “And to the makers of these fine drinks with which we all toast so generously!"

"I think this one's had too much of that," a man said, slapping a passed-out drunkard on the cheek.

"Perhaps he has," Loke said, bowing his head. “But I have only started.” He threw the tankard back, draining it completely in one go. "And I can think of many brothers and sisters worthy of a cup raised in their name."

He approached the bar and set the empty tankard, top down, in front of Farrun. "We give too many toasts to the few," he said, smiling. “And far too few to the many.”

He had his horn refilled and took a sip. "Ah, a decent drink. I think I'll see what the streets have to offer. Farrun, Bendalitz." He nodded to each in turn, then turned and left.

 

[Legendary Sidekick]

Addison glanced in Loke's direction as he gave his toasts to commonfolk rather than queen. With no drink in hand, all the Huntress could do was smile in admiration. When Loke raised his drink to those whose blood shall forever stain the soil, Addy said a name aloud—"Wallace the Iron Wall."—though not so loud it could be heard over a dozen baritone cheers.

The cheers fell silent, just like Wally's final scream. Addison wished she had a drink in her hand.

 

[Ireth]

When Loke toasted warriors both living and dead, Rikhard bowed his head for a moment. His parents' blood wouldn't stain soil, unless it be the seabed, but it had been spilled nevertheless. Especially that of his mother, who had fought and died to protect him from evil.

 

[Legendary Sidekick]

Well ain't we just a pair o' sad sacks.

Addison decided her regrets about the fallen hunter could wait until her alone time. While sharing a tent with Troia, she didn't have alone time and spent a few nights bottling up her tears. She could hold them a few hours longer. Best I go easy on the drinks for now.

Not wanting to bore the mystery girl with sad stares at an empty table, Addison poised herself as Ainsley had taught her. Straight back, bright eyes, a hint of a smile—don't overdo it, Addy, a smart smile, not a ditzy one—and let the body and outfit complement each other. Addison crossed her legs, letting a little skin show without crossing that fine line between grace and disgrace.

"That's Loke," she told the lady. "He's got a big mouth, but a big heart, too." She named "Farrun" and "Bendalitz"—dick—as she pointed them out, then silently wondered where Troia and Einan were. Not having another one o' them couple spats, she hoped.

Addison's gaze dropped to the lady's lips, neck, and the skin bared by the cut of her blouse. She focused on the amulet, which contained a strange liquid. Addy's eyes met hers. "But ain't I being the typical Cærnishwoman, not letting ye get a word in. By all means, tell us who y'are, and what kind o' magic tricks ye do."

 

[AkamaruGames]

The woman focuses her gaze on each person as they are introduced to her, her eyes going blank for the briefest of moments as if reading something off of each one. Seeming to make a decision, her lips part in a slow smile as she says, "Greeteengs. I am Chrisania. I believe ve are goeenk to be good friends."

She politely offers a seat to Addison and anyone else of the group who cares to come by. "As for vhat mageek I do, ve should not speak so lightly of such seengs. Zis is ze vay vitches are taken for bourning, yes? I am but seemple potion maker. I make potions and sometimes use my skeells for ze fancy shows. Lights and smoke. Very preetty."

Noticing Addison eyeing her bottle, she says, "Eet eez potion for healeengs. Eef you vant, I geeve to you. You seem like voman who has use of zeese. Yes?" She then unstraps the bottle and presses it into Addison's hand, gently but firmly closing Addison's fingers around it so as not to accept any sort of protest on her part. "Please take eet," she says, "I eenseest. I can alvays make more. And eef you need potion for ozer seengs, you tell Chrisania, yes? Love potion eez very popular. Many people also ask for ointment for to go weez love potion, in case lover ees not so pure." She gives a little wink at that last part.