The Winds of Ysgard - Part One

[Legendary Sidekick]

Addison noticed something amiss about Mount Freckle's friend.

"Gods damn ye, Mount Freckle! I said no boys!" Addison's brogue was faster and sharper than she'd allowed in the dining area, even when expressing her outrage at The Pissing Incident. "What if Handsome McStripy gets in a mood when you're fertile, which'll put you in a mood. Now you got babies in ye and I'm stuck walking and I got you and the wee li'l one to worry about! If you mean to have a bit o' fun, you can stay put and—"

A stable boy had his hand raised in view of Addison. He kept making sounds like "um" and "er," until finally Addison sharply turned and—

She drew a breath so as not to snap at the boy. "Yes. You wish to speak, lad."

The boy explained that this horse was a gelding.

"And what the hell is that supposed to mean?" Addison inquired. When the boy explained, Addison became indignant. "Well, that just isn't natural." And a great many would tell me I ain't exactly natural meself. But me own rebellion against nature's me own choice, not forced upon me with a pair o' gard'ning snips.

She stroked her horse's mane. Sorry to blow me top, Mount Freckle. I won't question your choice in friends a second time. You got good taste, girl.

The stable boy felt at the air with his hand and mumbled, "Storm's coming." When the Huntress faced him again, he raised an eyebrow at her wild hair.

"The gray one's mine," she told the boy. "And the… gelding…" She practically snarled the term. "He's Rikhard's." Addison turned to Rikhard and added, "If you'll have him."

 

[Ireth]

Rikhard looked around as Farrun spoke, realizing the man was talking to him. "Yes, I think I should. A spear would fit me best, I imagine. But I don't mean to stay in the inn -- if there's room for me here at the castle, I'll gladly remain here. I have nothing to fetch from the inn, either."

Turning back to Addison and the horses, he extended a hand warily toward the white-socked gelding. The beast leaned into his touch, warm breath flowing over his hand a moment before it made contact. Rikhard smiled, gently stroking the gelding's nose; it was soft as flower petals to his fingertips.

"You'll need a name too," he murmured, looking the beast up and down. He'd prefer to think of one himself, but his mind was a blank right now.

 

[Legendary Sidekick]

Addison saw the gelding was easy going. He and Rikhard seemed to get along fine. "I ain't used me magic on him," she assured Rikhard. "I mean not to if it can be helped. I will use me druid tricks if speed's a must, but let's see how you do without me intervention. Mount Freckle chose him, so I think if we ride slow there's no fear he'll get spooked and throw you. We ride at each other's side, and I'll use me tricks on me own horse so I can make sure you're holding up right."

As Troia and Einan look over the others, Addison asks aloud, "Is it just me and Rikhard riding out, or Troia, Einan, would you care to join us?"

 

[Tom]

"Of course," Einan replied. "Just let us choose some horses of our own."

He turned away quickly to conceal a face-splitting grin at Addison's little...meltdown. What could her problem be with geldings? They were certainly steadier and less flighty than stallions and even mares. A snort of laughter escaped him, but he quickly concealed it with a cough.

Still inwardly shaking with laughter, he moved down the corridor, peering into each stall. The horses looked back at him curiously as he passed, some with suspicion or excitement mixed in, according to each's nature. Finally he stopped in front of a stall that held a tall, sturdy gelding with large dark eyes and a finely boned head.

Spoiler: Einan's horse

"Aren't you a beauty?" Einan murmured, taking in the horse's dapple grey coat and dark, wavy mane and tail. Undoing the latch on the door, he slipped into the stall and held his hand up to the gelding's nose to let him scent it.

"What's his name?" he asked a passing stable boy, the same one who'd explained the concept of geldings to Addison.

"Wind," the boy replied. "He's a good horse. A bit stubborn, though. Always wants his own way, he does."

Einan smiled up at Wind as he grasped the big horse's halter and led him out. "I think we'll be suited to each other, Wind."

A little down the corridor, Troia was leading out her own pick, a rich-brown mare with flaxen mane and tail. She was a tall, leggy horse, and from the looks of her, she could run. Her high-held head and the glint in her eye spoke of spirit, but also a high-strung nature.

Spoiler: Troia's ride

"Nice horse," Einan called, careful to keep his voice low so as not to spook the horses. "A bit flashy for you, though, don't you think?"

"A girl likes to have style," Troia retorted, ruffling the mare's pale forelock. "This is Goldmane. And yes, I can handle her, if that's what you're implying."

 

[DMThaane]

"I have my own horse," Loke declared, finally breaking his silence. He'd been wordlessly following them, watching, studying. At one point he'd seen a mouse that looked, at a certain angle, to be playing an invisible fiddle. That had distracted him a while.

Most of these royal horses were too big; poorly suited to the mountains. Too demanding on feed and not near hardy enough for his liking. A royal stables for royal needs.

"What do we know of these eggs, Farrun? The one you found was buried deep, so the stories have it. If they are located within the earth, well, mining is long and arduous work. If they are in caves, that brings its own challenges. Or perhaps this will be easy," he said, chuckling. "Perhaps they will burst from the ground when they sense one of their own. Would that not be nice?"

 

[Legendary Sidekick]

Addison heard Loke's questions, but decided not to listen in, trusting the information would get to her from him or Farrun—who I suspect's one o' them need-to-know-basis types, that one.

As the stable boy prepared a saddle and bridle, Addison protested, "Don't need 'em." She had to repeat the phrase, the second time adding, "I ride bareback; another way won't do. Save yeself some trouble; ye got three others to saddle up."

As the boy hesitated—possibly trying to decipher Addison's heavily-accented, fast-spoken words—the Huntress gave Mount Freckle a pat on the pack, timing the impact with a leap and volley. Seeing that Addison was now in position to ride, the boy dropped the saddle, made sure the reins were secure, and offered the reins to the rider. "Do you use these, or just grab onto the mane?" the boy asked.

Addison pursed her lips and snatched the reins from the boy's hands. She managed a soft, "Thank you," to the boy, then told those joining her, "I'll wait outside."

While waiting, Addison plotted the course to her inn. Though the journey in her mind was over in seconds, she pictured another image of four horses and riders traveling at a moderate pace. Slow and steady, girl. Your good friend carries a first-timer. The Huntress embraced the mare as she projected these thoughts, savoring a quiet moment—just beast and rider. How she cherished the feeling of long, coarse hair against her cheeks. Even the scent of the animal was pleasant to her.

Mount Freckle adjusted the incline of her head so Addison could lie against her more comfortably. Right here's perfect. Both horse and rider had hairs on top of their heads standing on end, slow-dancing in electrically-charged air.

 

[Ireth]

Rikhard accepted the stable boy's help getting into the saddle once his horse was ready. He held onto the reins and looked over at Addison, who seemed perfectly comfortable atop Mount Freckle as she headed out the door. At the stable boy's instruction he flicked the reins and made a clicking sound to urge his mount forward. The gelding paced slowly out the door in the mare's wake, hooves clumping on the ground like a calm heartbeat. Rikhard smiled; this wasn't so bad at all.

 

[Legendary Sidekick]

As we ride out, I feel it best to warn me companions…

"So, I'm a bit nervous to have you all in me room. I mean, all me outfits are… on display. What I make's thought rather fashionable among certain circles in the Huntress community. But I know me tastes're… well, to tell ye the truth, I ain't put much thought in what the world thinks. If I hesitated for considering the world's opinion, I'd like not do half the things I do."

She caught herself about to ramble, and instead focused on Rikhard's riding. "If you're interested in me own opinion, I think you're doing quite well for your first ride."

Addison didn't need to watch where she was going, now that she understood how to give Mount Freckle a fully-plotted course. She and Rikhard were both riding as first-timers in a way, so perhaps Addison needed the slow ride more than the boy.

 

[Nimue]

Farrun watched the young folk go, some more at ease in their saddles than others. Well enough for the even road out of the city. Though it would be fair embarrassing if someone fell on their arse on the procession out.

He turned back to Loke, who had been a tall and silent presence, rather like those grim statues in the upper gallery. "Any surviving eggs would be in caves or ruins," he answered, leaning against the stall door as Boar absently rubbed against his shoulder. "Either where dragons laid them, or men hid them. The cavern where Thoros was found had another way in, we discovered later--large enough, indeed, for a dying mother dragon. I only dug my way in because I had a pickaxe in my hand and, well, it's an itch that'll make you want to tear down mountains." He smiled, reminiscing, and patted Boar's nose. "I'll have to tell you lot what the call feels like, because if any of you get it, that's the clearest wayfinder we'll have."

 

[Ireth]

Rikhard's smile widened at Addison's encouragement. He made sure to heed her advice carefully, whether it be "tug on the reins, like so" or "ease up on the bit, you're hurting 'im". She barely needed to watch where her own horse was going; for the most part her eyes were on him. He was used to being watched at all hours, but this was an entirely different feeling. The gazes of the cook he'd been forced to replace, not to mention the Captain himself, had been full of contempt and loathing. Addy's gaze held warmth and compassion, even friendship.

He moved his gelding up beside Addy's mare, but realized it might not be such a good idea. The air around Addy was charged and crackly like the air before a storm. His gelding's mane stood up on end, and Rikhard felt his own hair doing the same, but didn't dare risk moving a hand to brush it down. A spark jumped from Mount Freckle's bridle to that of his mount, who jerked back with a snort.

Rikhard warily released the reins with one hand, rubbing the gelding's neck as he backed the horse up with the other. "Easy there, brother."

He wasn't sure where the term of affection had come from, but he liked the sound of it. "There's a name for you, Dushan." The word in his father's language flowed off his tongue.

Once he was back to a safe distance, he called ahead to Addy. "Does the air always feel like this when you use your druidry?" Maybe it happened to all druids. It wasn't as if he'd ever met one before.

 

[Legendary Sidekick]

During the ride to the inn, Addy thought Rikhard's balance was good enough—not for a full gallop, but it seemed he'd have no trouble with calm, predictable trotting. "Maybe your sea legs've done ye good," she explained. "I ain't noticed the air spark up like that when I connected with the liger. Maybe now that I'm doing it on purpose…"

Her voice trailed off as she looked ahead. The inn. "Ah, here's the place." It was clear that Addison spared no expense. Though no inn could compare to a castle, it was probable that this particular inn was the second-best place in the Hinterlands. Inquisitive looks from the doormen were cut off by Addison's whispered growl, "They're with me."

Her room was spacious enough to comfortably sleep ten. Along the walls were displays on mannequins—ten dresses of various skins, plus two outfits that stood out from the dozen non-armors: a pantsuit made from various patterned furs, and a two-piece consisting of deerskins strips that left little to the imagination. Across the room were armor sets. Six appeared to be made of leather or tough, leathery hide. The one in the center was something Addison referred to as "shell-plate." It looked heavy, bulky, cumbersome… what it didn't appear to be was comfortable.

Leaning against the wall near Addison's bed was a double axe which appeared to be, at a glance, something a man like Loke could swing several times without hardship (unlike Addison's arm, which looked suited for the weight of a longsword at best.) Runes etched on the blade had the same glint as the starmetal "shocker" Addison had revealed earlier.

Spoiler: a photo of an Eastern double-axe

I'm sure this is a ceremonial axe, but if we can fantasize a bit, this is close enough to what I'm thinking…

Casually laid out on an end table was a device similar to a crossbow, though coils of rope suggested it might function as a climbing tool rather than a weapon.

Addison wasted no time gathering her tools. She then looked over the twelve outfits that clearly did not function as armor, though she immediately narrowed her choice to ten—wincing remorsefully as she eyed the pantsuit, and grinning slightly at the skimpy deerskin before shaking her head. But after looking at the ten dresses twice, maybe thrice, she fixed her eyes on Troia.

"We're twins enough from the neck down," she said. "If ye don't catch me meaning, I'm saying the dresses'll fit you. The armor, too. Go on and take your picks. I'll only take a dress or two meself—whatever's left after ye claim what ye can carry—and for armor, what I'ave on'll do. Take any but the shell-plate."

 

[Tom]

Troia raised her eyebrows. "Thank you. You really don't need to do this, y'know."

Turning, she stared at all the outfits to choose from, eyes flitting from one to another. One armor and one dress caught her eye, and she walked over to the mannequin that wore the dress. It was made of pale deerskin, trimmed with stitches of darker leather strips along the v-shaped neckline, uneven hem, and wide, elbow-length sleeves, strung with tiny beads of turquoise. The skin was soft and thin as rose petals to her touch.

"What do you think?" she asked Einan, gesturing at the dress.

"I think it would suit you," he said, smiling. "It's almost white, so it would look nice against your dark hair."

She smiled back, then turned to the armor that she'd noticed along with the dress. The outfit consisted of a helmet, breastplate and gorget, a flaring skirt, shoulder guards, bracers, and greaves. The leather was light gray, tooled in tooth-like designs, and its edges had been dyed black. Troia pinched it between her thumb and forefinger, testing its thickness. It was flexible enough to move in easily, but also thick and strong enough to take a blow. She liked it.

Looking back at Addison, she said, "Can I take these two? I think they'll suit me well."

 

[Ireth]

Rikhard shifted from foot to foot as he waited outside Addy's door. From the sound of the conversation within, they might not need him for a while yet. He leaned over to knock on the door and call out to the women.

"Addy? Troia? Just letting you know I'm heading back to the castle to have a look in the armory. I shouldn't be too long, but I'll hurry." It shouldn't be too hard to find his way there, he thought; all he needed to do was follow their horses' fresh hoofprints.

He decided to jog back to the castle, as it was faster than even Dushan's slow, steady walking. Finding his way to the armory was another story, but he made it at last and ducked inside.

Weapons of all shapes and sizes hung and leaned on every wall -- swords, axes, bows, spears, javelins, maces and morningstars. Rikhard gravitated toward the spears; taking one down that was about as long as he was tall, he held it in one hand to test its weight and balance. It certainly was a nice-looking weapon, with a smooth wooden shaft and a sharp, gleaming steel head. He had expected a little more adornment, but frankly he'd be happier with a plainer weapon anyway. It was meant to be used, not just to look nice.

 

[Legendary Sidekick]

Addison said, "Aw, that'll look cute on ye. You should try it on, but maybe at the castle. For now, why not wear the armor? In fact, I suggest you take a second dress unless what you're wearing now's got sentimental value." She caressed a green armor set that lacked for leggings and the material seemed to be of plant rather than animal. "This one does for me, and that little deerskin thing, a tribal dancing ensemble I'd wear on hot days hunting for meat on me own. I did dance in it once…"

Addison hastily picked two dresses. One looked suitable for fine dining; the other was a simpler design. With a pleasant look, she said to Troia, "Change up, take any else ye please, and close the door behind you. I'm off to the innkeep to make arrangements for storing what's left at the castle."

 

[Tom]

"No, I'll just take these two," Troia said, bundling up the dress. She strapped the armor on, swinging her arms and twisting at the waist to make sure it fit well. "My own clothes are all I have of home at the moment, so I'll keep them. I'm going to go after Rikhard. All I've got is a belt knife, so it won't hurt to pick up an extra weapon or two."

"I'm going to our room," Einan said. "Just to get some things, then I'll go over the castle as well. I'd like to explore a little."

"As good a plan as any," Troia replied, heading out the door with her new helmet tucked under her arm.

The sun hit her square in the face as she left the inn. Shading her eyes, she followed Rikhard's footsteps back to the castle, going at a steady trot, Ari tagging along beside her. She felt bad--she'd left him outside the inn, thinking no animals were allowed inside, only to have the innkeeper tell her otherwise. He didn't seem to mind, though. His tail was curled jauntily over his back and his mouth spread in a wide canine grin.

A warm spring breeze blew around her, sending strands of hair whipping around her face. She tucked them as best she could behind her ears as she came up to the castle.

With the direction of one of the guards, she found the armory, as well as Rikhard, who was examining a tall spear. The walls were lined with more weapons than she had ever seen, all gleaming rather dangerously in the light from the small window high up in the wall. Swords and spears, daggers and axes there were, along with a great deal of weapons that she'd never seen before and didn't have a name for.

Leaving Ari sitting attentively beside the door, Troia ventured further into the room. Silently she stepped beside Rikhard and combed the wall, looking for anything that might be of use to a short girl who'd never been trained in weapons. Something poking out from behind a greatsword caught her eye; it looked like another sword. Curious, she shoved the greatsword out of the way and took down the second sword, sliding it from its leather scabbard. This one was short, with a wide, curvy blade and a crossguard that curled downward on both sides like a crescent moon. Faint runes were carved into the flat of the blade; frowning, Troia blew the dust off the sword and held it up to the light, peering closer at the runes. She could not read them.

"I think this is a Dwarvish sword," she said, turning it. The leather grip felt...right in her hand. "Maybe Farrun or one of the other men could teach me how to use it..."

She slid it back into its sheath and stuck it through her belt, liking the weight of it on her hip. It would be better once she knew how to use it, but even now it made her feel safe.

Spoiler: Troia's new weapon

 

[Legendary Sidekick]

As Addison was finished with her arrangements, she saw that the gelding and Mount Freckle were nuzzling each other. Addison sharply pointed a finger. "You're playing with a fire ye can't even start!" She was relieved Einan and Troia went ahead of her. Because that was the stupidest thing I ever told a horse in me life.

She mounted Mount Freckle and steered her back to the castle without the use of magic. The magic was to get the gelding to follow, but it seemed to the Huntress that Dushan needed little convincing to follow his friend. She had the stable boy take the horses in.

Addison entered the castle as a walking arsenal. Bow shouldered on the left, quiver on the right, big axe secured in her little hands in a passive position so as not to trouble the guards. Her shockers were hidden in her cloak, carving knife on her left hip, grappler dangling from the right. She would ask for a room—"Me own room. Troia's got her man. I don't, so I won't sleep near one." She would also ask about a bath, and whether or not there's an attendant. She expected her No Men rule need not be voiced for the bath.

 

[Nimue]

"Aye, I can teach you to use it." Farrun's baritone voice came from the doorway behind them. He smiled, striding across the room to heft a halberd with a bronze-ringed shaft. He used to wield polearms from Thoros's back, but the dragon was too large for anything but sorcery to be useful from the saddle anymore. Nothing like the weight of a good halberd, though. "Not been long since my own first lessons in the sword," he remarked, then paused. No, that was likely most of Troia's life ago. Strange how the years passed when he always had something to throw himself at.

He looked over at her, sizing up what must be Addison's borrowed wardrobe, serrated leathern armor in grey and black like a hawk's barred wings. "Looks fierce," he said, grinning but not unkindly. "Who knew huntresses were so fashionable?" He was his mother's son enough to know artistry in clothing when he saw it.

Rikhard was still looking at the weapons on the wall--not too easy with conversation, that one. Farrun stepped closer to him, putting the halberd back. "That's a good height," he told Rikhard. "You could pick something up with an iron-shod base, give you something to punch with, but it'll be heavier. You ever used a spear before, or a stave?"

 

[Ireth]

Rikhard turned and nodded to Troia as she entered the armory, and paused to watch as she browsed the weapons beside him. The dagger, or perhaps short sword, that she chose was of an unfamiliar make to him, but it seemed to be high-quality. When she spoke to herself, he debated whether to respond, and decided against it.

He jumped as Farrun's voice rang out, and turned to hear what he had to say. At the question, he nodded once. "I've used a staff before, but only within the past few months -- just enough to keep me alive without stabbing anything to death. I've never used a real spear before."

He put back the spear in his hands and moved on to the next. This one had a slender, leaf-shaped blade, adorned with runes where the head met the shaft. He tested its weight and balance, and nodded in satisfaction.

Spoiler: Rikhard's spear

Still thinking of a name for it to be engraved with -- OOC suggestions are fine, but please don't mention it in-character. I want Rikhard to read it for himself.

 

[Tom]

Troia smiled at Farrun, nodding her head. Her heart jumped to be so close to the famous dragonrider. Though not as impressive as the stories would have had her believe, he still cast around him an air of commanding. It was somewhat overridden by his kind manner and easy smile, but Troia could tell that he was the man to look to in times of trouble.

"Thank you," she said, fingering the pommel of the sword. "I've never used one of these in my life, so I'd expect you're in for something of a challenge."

At his comment about Addison's armor, she looked down at it, spreading her arms to get the full effect. "Aye, it does look fierce. I don't know what it is about wearing it, but I almost feel...braver. Addison was kind to let me take it."

At that moment Ari stood and trotted to Farrun's side, giving a short yip. He sat down and stared up at the man, tail sweeping over the floor.

"Oh, yes...this is Ari." Troia grinned. "I think he'd like to meet you."

 

[Nimue]

Farrun wondered what to make of that remark. Where had Rikhard come from? He'd not given his home, nor even a surname. "Alive's a good place to start," he said slowly. "Spear's much like a stave, just extra weight on one end, and all the possibilities of a blade. That's a fine weapon. From Vas Gethen's forge, if I'm not mistaken."

He watched Rikhard lift the spear, and rubbed his neck. "You seem a mite stiff," he said, in a lower voice. "Haven't strained anything, have you?"

Troia spoke up, and Farrun turned back towards her. He couldn't help smiling at her words. "Armor's for more than just keeping your skin intact. Know that you look fearsome, and you'll fight like it. Plus, it keeps your back straight and your shoulders up. Hard to be knock-kneed in steel plate, though I've come close." His attention was called downward by a polite yip. Farrun offered his fingertips to be sniffed and, when they were accepted, he dropped to one knee and scratched Ari's ruff. A good-tempered dog indeed--he'd be no trouble around the horses. "Big strong lad you are. He come from the mountains, like the pair of you?" Farrun asked, looking back up at Troia.