RP:Eboric and Iverfin Regroup
Part of the Links to the Past Arc
Iverfin hadn't watched all of the events with Eboric and the shadows, having been a bit obsessed with gathering her own spoils. But when Eboric eventually wandered off, so did she. She decided it would be wise to simply return to their camp, as Eboric had not said a word to her. Iverfin assumed he had his own private business to attend to. Iverfin was now sitting before the fire - even though she felt it was making little difference - eyeing the wolf fangs and claws she had removed to add to her collection. The pelt was at the camp, too. Waiting to be transformed into a personal piece of her ensemble.
Eboric returns through the crawlspace some time after Iverfin, his progress quite audible as he forces his way through the small tunnel. He comes out the other side and straightens, stretching, before moving over to the logs that he had stacked before the pair had entered the battlefield. Removing his tinderbox from his belt pouch, he sets up and gives a few quick strikes of flint on steel, and soon has a fire going. Sitting cross-legged before it, he stares into the heart of the flames wordlessly, the bracers gleaming black and gold on his wrists, and the hilt of a sword, a match to the bracers, protruding from a cracked scabbard at his belt.
Iverfin glanced to Eboric, not particularly enjoying the fact that the man was so silent. She thought it was actually odd. Normally he was at least a bit more talkative. Iverfin watched him for a few minutes before actually addressing him, "Y'alright~?" He didn't quite seem like himself...
Eboric looks up, seeming to notice Iverfin for the first time. "They were right," he says, seemingly ignoring her question. "The dead are restless there." He puts a fresh log on the fire, a fragment of the ruined house in which they sit. The wood spits and steams as the ice melts, but before too long, the log is blazing brightly.
Iverfin listened to his words and noticed they weren't exactly answers to her question. Iverfin frowned at her leader, eyeing the bracers and the sword in the cracked scabbard. Iverfin eventually shifted a tad closer to him, gesturing to the bracers, "D'ye find 'em then~? They any good~?"
Eboric turns his hands over to inspect the bracers' undersides, then back again to view the tops. They appear seamless, as though they had been formed over the barbarian's massive forearms. The sword remains in the sheath; indeed, Eboric doesn't seem to notice its presence. "I found them. After you killed the wolf."
Iverfin have a nod of her head, eyeing them still. "They fit ye perfectly. Almos' like they're made for ye~!" She offered a smile, feeling a bit of unease. This man didn't seem like her leader. She didn't even know what to do at this point.
Eboric reaches with his right hand to touch the left bracer, tracing a finger along the lines of gold that form sharp, angular letters of unknown origin and meaning. "I do not remember picking them up," he says. "Or putting them on. I remember seeing them, and reaching for them, and then I was walking through the snow on the way back here." He speaks quietly, as if to himself.
Iverfin frowned slightly at his words, fingers reaching out to touch the bracers gently. Iverfin continued to speak, though, "Can ye even take 'em off~?" She didn't sound sure about that, so it was clear she didn't think the bracers would come off. "What about t'sword, too~?"
Eboric's bracers seem to hum silently beneath Iverfin's fingers, the metal warm even in the frigid air. Curling his fingers underneath one, Eboric pulls hard, hoping to slip the armor off. It does not move. Shaking his head, he reaches back to touch the hilt. "I don't remember that, either. It was his, though."
Iverfin said to Eboric, "His~?"
Eboric grunts. "The one who had these bracers. A great warrior."
Iverfin had guessed that much, but she assumed Eboric may have known more. "D'ye know anything else 'bout 'im~?"
Eboric opens his mouth as if to speak, then closes it again. A moment later, he opens his mouth again, this time saying, "I know he died of a spear thrust, among other wounds. I know that he killed many enemies. But what else can I know? He is long dead, after all."
Iverfin nodded, "I suppose." Iverfin eyed him for a minute or two, before hesitantly placing her hand on his shoulder. "Ye sure yer alright, though~? Ye seem a bi'... different, is all."
Eboric forces a grin. "I am fine. Tired, is all." He turns to look at the various bits and pieces of the wolf that the elf had brought back with her. "That was some kill," he says, changing the subject. "Biggest wolf I've ever seen."
Iverfin didn't truly accept his answer, but she removed her hand and nodded in acceptance. "Aye." Iverfin's lips curled into a wry grin, unable to hide the pride she felt from the kill, "N'wolf gets away f'me."
Eboric nods, using another log to poke at the fire. "You would have been useful to have when I had run ins with those pesky lycans in Rynvale, then. All the wolves you could ask for."
Iverfin smiled slightly, "Aye. But I need t'improve m'skills more." Iverfin sighed softly, "One thing fightin' a wolf, 'n' a big wolf. 'nother thing fightin' a lycan."
Eboric nods again. "They die as easily as anyone else. Most of the ones you see now are tame, anyway. The wolf side has become more like a trained dog. They are soft, and useless. But there are some that I have met that can put up a fight..." He trails off, as if lost in thought.
Iverfin nodded, "Aye, they die, but..." Iverfin hesitated, clearly not all too sure on whether she should continue. "They make ye one o' 'em," she frowned, shaking her head, "that's t'danger."
Eboric shrugs his shoulders. "If you let them bite you, yes. But I've killed lycans before, and I don't become a wolf at night."
Iverfin gave a nod of understanding, "Right." She looked at him and asked with a tad of hesitation, "'ere. D'ye think I'm any good a' this fightin' business~?" Obviously she had some idea. But she wanted confirmation from the man himself. Maybe she had heard something from someone else.
Eboric raises an eyebrow. "Well, you're certainly not as good as me, but I think you have potential. You killed the wolf, after all. As it is, though, I think you can hold your own with most enemies you'll face. The errors can be worked out with practice and help from me."
Iverfin grinned, even going so far as to give a wheezy chuckle at his comment. "I wan' t'be better than you." Iverfin fixed him with a look and a small smile, as if to say she was telling him the truth. She wanted to surpass him in the field of fighting.
Eboric lets loose a laugh, not of scorn, but of amusement. "That will not happen, Iverfin. Not while I live, anyway. You can get close, perhaps, and I will do my best to make that happen. After all, you will be of more use to me the better you are at fighting."
Iverfin laughed with him, grinning widely. "I can try~!" She eyed her blade briefly before looking to him, "If I can't beat ye, I want t'be on par wi'ye. Be as good as ye."
Eboric meets Iverfin's gaze, saying, "You can try. It will give you somethign to strive for, at least." He smiles a little, to show that he offers no insult, but at the same time, it is clear he is certain in his superiority.
Iverfin nodded her head, quite pleased with what had been said really~! "What 'bout Hanwi~? Is she any good~?"
Eboric shrugs his shoulders. "I have not really seen her fight. She did guard my back in a brawl once, and she held her own. She makes use of magic, I think."
Iverfin smirked slightly, glad to have a minor insight into what Hanwi was like. "Aye." Iverfin understood that the woman did not seem to like her all too much. But that they had began a very, very odd game...
Eboric notes the smirk, and asks, "Have you two worked out whatever it was that got her upset before?"
Iverfin said to you, "No. She jus' said that she doesn't like me 'n' calls me Mutebox. She's not so bad, though."
Eboric frowns. "I will speak to her. You are both sworn to me, and so you must get along. I will have no in-fighting."
Iverfin shrugged her shoulder, "S'alright." Iverfin offered him a grin, "I don't think we're fighting so much now."
Eboric nods once, satisfied. "Good. Now...do you have anything else you would like to do, while we are here in Frostmaw? If not, then I say we rest here for the night, and return to civliziation in the morning."
Iverfin shook her head, indicating that she had nothing else she desired to do. She smiled and adjusted the piwafwi about her head, before withdrawing the hunting knife from her boot and settling against the pelt of the slain wolf. It seemed she was definitely happy to just rest.
Eboric watches her for a moment, then turns back to stare into the fire once again, the shadows flickering in his eyes.