RP:Attack On Innocence
Part of the Souls Out of Time Arc
Synopsis: After two Steel Collective NPCs were sent to Chartsend on their own mission, Henry (First NPC) returns to the barracks carrying Brynna (Second NPC) who is wounded. His arrival disrupts idle chit chat, both Aarika and Eirik set to the grim task of saving their clans healer. Turns out they had run into the same problems that Eirik has been running into in Venturil. They too were attacked and The Steel Collective finds themselves personally drawn into it to resolve the coven of the plains.
Attack On Innocence
Eirik takes up a spot near the center of the hall carrying a plate of food and a mug of ale. The berserker gives a near silent sigh as rump meets the chair he has chosen; a spot giving him view of that centipedes head. Calloused hands reach for the bread on his plate and snap it in half. From beneath the veil of scarred features silver eyes scan the area watching the current on goings of the collective in silence. The aformentioned bread is now lifted to his mouth and eaten. As usual the lycan is dressed and armed for war. Dual black armored sleeves work their way up his arms and weave into a fur covered leather and steel plate pauldron. A sleeveless black leather jerkin the only thing to cover his torso while matching pants give way to steel greaves and booted feet. An elemental ice axe is tied to one hip and Brann Forbruker, a rune inscribed longsword, lies tied to the other. Eiriks messy, braided, and light brown hair is pulled straight back and tied in leather strings; Beads decorate the style here and there. For all intents and purposes he truly looks like a black hearted raider from the north sent to conquer and pillage the realm. In reality, this is partially true.
Toth reaches down, picking up an arrow from his quiver as the sounds of the lycans foot steps draw near to him and set in a chair fairly close to his own. He takes a few moments to listen before he drops the arrow back to the ground, his hands finding the table as his head is peeled from it..what a nap that may very well have been, his face scans the hall before resting on Eirik. "Havein' a good day?" Not entirely sure who it was that sat, all he'd need to do was hear a voice, he stretches a bit causing a popping sound to run up his back.
Eirik would set that piece of bread down and pull up the mug to wash the dry food down with frothy fluid. After a few gulps are taken those silver hues move to Toth and his question. “Of course.” Eirik picked a leg of beef up and pulled some of it off with his teeth before he would respond further. Eiriks voice is rough, like gravel being crushed beneath a weighted boot and riddled with an accent unfamiliar to these lands. All and all, he should be easily recognizable by Toth even if he wasn’t being as boisterous this night. “Even if today has been a little dull.” He hints towards the life of inaction and the few training dummies he had claimed this day. “And how are you, Toth.” He spoke between bites of fresh red meat.
Toth takes note of the voice, it was familiar and he would have it stored for the rest of his days as Eirik's. "No bugs, huh? Probably would be a bit dull for some that new that thrill of the kill." His voice rarely changes from it's somber tone in this particular situation, he reaches back to removes the jacket he generally wears and lays it across the back of his chair. "I'm not to shabby, been out and about..but nothing worth while to mention." He smiles a bit, even if it is in contrast with his voice..he didn't mine.
Eirik sets the leg of beef down. “Nay, not today no. Though I do believe the guild is ramping up for an assault on a hive out near Rynvale. Should be a good legion of bugs to crush there. Like the other two hives I helped take down.” He wouldn’t say any more on the subject unless asked. By guild he did mean the Warriors Guild, not the collective. Eirik was part of many things that required the use of his blades. “Never had the thrill yourself?” He would ask absent any thought. “I’m a Lycan,” he twists to look upon the man further taking note of the arrows. “And I often get the thrill of the hunt, chasing after game. Looks to me you know the thrill of a hunt as well. Darn near close, but less of a rush.”
Toth wonder ponder a moment if guild and collective would be the same, but at the present time he would only worry about the people he had come in contact with and the others would wait until the point when he met them. "I've hunted a thing or two, not that big on trophies..just the kill is fine by me..but to each his own." His eyes would close momentarily, not that it made a difference in his situation. His fingers finding the glass that he had left beside himself, picking it up and running a finger around the rim. "Lycan..first one I've met of that kind. I'm an elf, so I tend to stay back from hand to hand most of the time..not great at it."
Eirik would give a small chortle of a laugh. “I know a few elves whose aim with a bow can’t be matched. Its okay if you don’t prefer melee. Thats what guys like myself are for. I’ll be the shield you bring death from afar.” He would dismiss the notion of being unable to perform in close quarters with the wave a hand, “We all have our strengths. To put faith in your weakness does not make it a strength. As a group, out on missions, we should strive to bring what the others don’t. Your skill isn’t looked down upon here, even if all you find here are brutes like myself. We have need of it all.” He spoke ignoring his own food. Truly Toths skills were a very necessary addition to the collective to further round out their edges. This is what he is pointing at.
Aarika had been back in the kitchens helping the staff sort through the bartered payment of crops. The farmer had delivered what he had promised and would continue to each harvest. Within the barracks no job was to small, Aarika would find ways to contribute everywhere, even cooking meals here and there to give their employed a proper day or two off. Normally such a job wouldn't be taken, though Aarika was enraged that day and the high of the fight was enough to tempt, Red. Finally the last box was put away, helping herself she moved for a bottle of whiskey before moving to join the conversation instead of just eaves dropping. "Yes, yes." She began raising her hands as if to claim a nonexistent commotion, "I have arrived." There would be that cheeky grin while she twisted the cork free to toss across the room, "Oh darn, looks like we have to finish it now." She seemed to be in the best of spirits and she was always happy to see Eirik and Toth. "Now what have I missed?" She knew one thing but that would be her secret.
Eirik would slap the table once at Aarika’s entrance. “There she is.” Eyes shift to Toth and then back to the Matron. “We were just discussing the finer points of the steel collective and their need for all types of abilities. Bows and swords. You know, letting the man know his skills are appreciated here.” The bottle of whiskey she carried looked mighty tasty but the Lycan shifts his attentions back to his mug of ale to pull it up to his lips. Mid gulp there is a sudden explosion of noise, Henry bursting into the hall carrying Brynna. “Help me please,” Eirik wouldn’t even hesitate and rise to his feet pushing plates, cups and weapons alike to the side. “Put her here boy” he nearly bellowed back to him. Brynna is finally placed on the table and Henry’s nervous glances are noticed. “Get me some boiled water, her healers kit from over there.” A single digit points to her setup shop “And give me some space to work with.” Silver hues would flick down to Brynna who suffered a nasty looking wound on her collar bone. Looked like she had been ran through by something. “Forgive me Brynna, but I must.” Hand reaches to her neck to check for a pulse, and Eirik visibly relaxes; she is still alive. A knife is pulled free and the straps of her dress are cut free. The northman allows her as much dignity as possible, leaving her covered up where she can be. He would leave the questioning up to the matron. In moments hot water and cloth are delivered to the man along with her healers kit where he sets himself to the grim task of patching up Brynna their healer. How ironic was that?
Aarika was startled by the sudden entrance of the two. Henry followed the command to bring Brynna to the table with such haste he tore through the chairs in his path, as her arm dangled in response. Aarika's whiskey, what whiskey? The bottle was dismissed entirely. Henry would join Aarika allowing Eirik as much space as possible to work, though his hand slipped into the healers quietly praying to the gods. Aarika's index and thumb fingers took turns forcing the woman's eyes open looking for any signs. "What happened?" Aarika asked calmly trying to keep that energy through the room as her eyes stayed glued to Bry. The matriarch offered a few smack to the woman's cheeks, everyone knew staying unconscious for too long was dangerous. "Come on you, wimp." Though she wouldn't slap her long. Perhaps it was that maternal instinct in her that moved a hand to stroke the girls hair.
Aarika's questions don’t fall on deaf ears and Henry responds. “I don’t know.” He was confused over the ordeal himself. “We were fine one minute in the plains of Venturil on our way to Chartsend.” Eirik twists his gaze to Aarika as Henry speaks. Dammit, the word nearly written over his features. He suspected the witches that he had hired the group for, but would wait for Henry to finish. “We came across this little boy crying in the middle of the field. Naked and covered in blood. Brynna insisted that we help him and so we did. Set up camp, cleaned him up and fed him. But we woke later and the boy was standing over her with this knife.” Henry sets the knife down on the table. “I tried to stop him but his strength was unbelievable and he stabbed her. All our supplies were left as I fought the boy off. We were again hit by a swarm of undead cutting our path off to Chartsend. Brynna’s last words were to get her to Eirik.” The story was over and the northman could fill the group in on what they had come across. Fated dumb luck brought them across a child of the coven in Venturil. The boy was cursed. The lycan began to clean that wound of hers. “Don’t worry I’ll get her patched up. She will come around.” Aarikas slaps were not bringing her too. They needed to take care of what was now most likely infected. After the wound is cleaned Eirik would look through that healers bag for specific herbs. “This,” he pulled a green leafy plant from its confines. “Will fight infection, we need to boil this down. Can someone do this for me?” He would move back to sterilizing her wound as best he could before stitching her up.
Aarika met Eirik's gaze and it was like she could read his mind as clear as a bell, she would offer her own message, payback's a bitch. This mission just got personal. Aarika then concentrated on Henry's words making a mental note of every single detail. As Henry dropped the knife Aarika positioned herself to hover over the dagger, she wouldn't touch it, who knew what spells it held. Eirik's plate was cleared from the table as she moved the weapon and banished it from the hall, they could inspect it outside. Aarika was cautious even if it held nothing. Next she took the green leaf from the berserker turned field medic and jumped into action leaving for the kitchen with a jog. With Aarika leaving Herny had more space, he would release the woman's hand but only for a second. Taking off his jacket, he balled the material up to create Brynna more comfort by slipping it behind her head. Then dropping to a knee to press her hand to his forehead, the gods being called upon again. He felt guilty, even unworthy to wear his earring.
Eirik says to Henry, “You did good.” His voice a near whisper. After the wound is stitched closed, and Eiriks fingers are bloody he flicks his gaze back to that bag. “I’ll get some help to get her to a bed. She is your responsibility to watch. You do everything you can to ensure she comes too, got it?” Eiriks words were not pointing blame, but merely stating that his job is not over. More of that green herb is pulled and dunked into some of the water. Next its placed over the wound before Eirik begins to wrap it up in gauze. “Change these bandages often. I’ll get you more herbs shortly. What Aarika is doing, is boiling down a tea made from this plant as well. The moment she comes to you start having her drink it.” The wrap is finished amidst his words. “No sugar. Absolutely none. If she breaks out into a fever before she wakes you come get me as quick as possible.” He wouldn’t wait for any further response and eyes would flick to some of the randoms around the room. “Lets get her moved quickly.” She will be alright, he was sure of it. She was tuff, like Aarika though her nature different. Truthfully he gave Henry the responsibility because frankly no one seemed more concerned than he. Plus it might give him a little down time. Presumably Aarikas tea is made by now, and Brynna finds herself in a bed being watched over by Henry. Eirik would make his exit and head to the war room to look over maps and begin to decide his own personal assault. The witches would taste his wrath.
Later In The War Room
Aarika continued to watch over Henry and Brynna. He had taken Eirik's words to memory, even if he wasn't appointed the job he would stick by her side through the thick of it. You had to look after your own. Aarika smiled and pushed her finger through the young man's hair, oh bless, "Pray to Sven." With things now settled, she left the room to meet Eirik. When she entered the war room she moved beside him to deal her wolf a soft elbow, "So I think we've got a few bond fires to plan." She joked about battle even laughed with glee. She wasn't a typical woman that was for sure. She would carry no remorse with burning these witches at the stake, hell would even torch them herself. She reached for the bottle that aided her previous plottings, thank the Gods it was far from dry. Eirik would be offered the relaxation first as oceanic eyes watched his face. As he drank she gave the parchment a once over, she was a steel trap.
Eirik had a plethora of maps sprawled out over the table. A massive one pinned down in the center which carried odd runes and symbols. She would learn that when the berserker was frustrated he wrote and spoke in his native language out of habit. His mind being led by other things and clearly he was bothered right now. Not with Aarika or Henry, but with that damn coven he still had to wipe from the map. The bottle she offers is grabbed and he visibly thinks about it for a moment. Ultimately Eirik does not imbibe and hand carrying the alcohol rests on the table. Odd for the Northman. He begins to speak to Aarika tongue falling on Rosfjorian tones yet again but brings himself to a stop. Old habits die hard. “Sorry,” he sighs to her while only offering up only a half smile; the only revelation to his mind processing her bonfire comments. “So some of the scouts I’ve called favors from pinpoint their main camp here.” A digit taps on the giant map in the center of the table. “An underground fortress with multiple exits which span across the plains. The ones we know of exit here, here and there.” He continues to point out on the map. “The number of witches and mages working together are unknown. But averaged head count puts them in the thirties. Not to mention the other things they can conjure up.” Truly he had no idea if she wanted to hear any of this, but he needed to voice it. Needed another opinion on the matter and hers would be the most respected of all. Because of her position in the clan and her past experiences.
Aarika craned her head to the side as she noted his naive tongue trying to push through, she wondered why it was coming out more and more then smiled. "Underground huh?" She laughed reverting back to fire, "Then we cover this parameter..." Her finger bent at the pressure she applied to the table while drawing a larger circle around the grounds. "Then smoke them out." Now she pointed to the known entry and exit points. "Flank them as they flee. Spread out enough we'll get them." She planned with the lycan proud for her idea of execution.She let her words sink in as the table lost her touch to the bottle in Eirik's hand, she'd have a swing before adding, "Hey, teach me that language of yours." That would be all. She awaited his feed back.
Eirik for once is not his usual boisterous self. Instead he listens in silence absorbing everything she says, running through the plan she presented. Would it work? His only thoughts while she continued to explain the tactic in its entirety. Finally that smile is back upon his features and Eirik pulls free a gourd which never seems to leave his side. “Then I suggest we start hunting.” If Aarika were to inspect the contents she would find oil made from downed whales. “I say we make things a little more difficult and we show them Rosfjorian fire.” He would finally tear himself away from deep thoughts. “Use pigs fat in the concoction. As the oil burns it will turn into a grease. Provide more smoke. But the key to it is this: Adding water, like any mage might conjure up, only spreads the fire and emboldens the flame.” A fire like that, has to be smothered and most don’t think about it. It was a trick he learned back home in the wars against Illisaria. “I’m impressed Matron.” Eirik would finally have that drink if she would allow it. “It’s a good plan.” He would now mull over the idea of teaching her his language. If she really wanted to learn, why not? “I’ll teach you.” He adds with a smile.
Aarika's eyes followed the man's movements to his gourde, "Pig fat...." She had just been in the kitchens, laird was in abundance...overkill, "We will pack a horse and rally the troops." Her words were far from a suggestion. With that she left the war hall and slipped into her own room where a servant followed. Aarika's armor would be adorned with aid. She wore a thick wool shirt that tucked into her bracers with a breast plate of hide as the cover, chainmail attached to the leather of her top. Her pants where black and a long blue skirt hug down the back to her boots. Soon enough she'd exit her room with swords on her hip and round shield in her hand. The servant had already informed the kitchen of Aarika's order. "All able fighters come with me now." This too was far from a suggestion. Horses awaited the gang outside saddle bags provisioned for the strenuous task at hand. Aarika's hands secured her shield to Fritz's in a single motion had her upon her mount. Several men and women followed suit, including Lenny and Faye. Beginners Rosfjorian lessons would start along the way.