RP:Fallen Captain
Part of the The Ice Plague Cometh Arc
Frostmaw Fort, Smithing Supplies
Hildegarde was sitting on the floor of the room, halberd settled across her lap so that her whetstone might easily stroke against the sharpened edge of the axe-head to keep her weapon at the ready for any combat. The knight sat in such a way that her back was propped against the bench as she tended to her weapons, journal left upon the bench as if she had either been adding an entry or simply reading it before moving on to more pressing issues. Hilde had the room to herself, a little bit of peace and quiet while she worked. But it didn't seem or feel like work to her, it was more like a meditative act, a form of relaxation and a bit of time to think on the future. Not that she wanted to think about it too much, to be honest!
Satoshi can be heard before she's seen, voice drifting down the hallway in the clipped, frigid tones of an argument. Although her words are inaudible, her voice makes it clear that the magus is displeased with someone and is delivering some form of threat. No other voice can be heard, despite Satoshi's pauses as if she's listening to the other side of the discussion. When the foxkin enters the smithing room, it's in an exasperated huff of a style... and completely alone, save for the sheathed katana in her grasp that's being given a dark look. "Perhaps I'll just find -another- sword then, eh? You're not exactly being of use ri-- Erm. Ahem. Hullo, Mithril." Satoshi looks almost flustered at having spotted the knight too late. Clearly her mind has been elsewhere, to miss the presence of a dragon until she's about to trip over it.
Hildegarde just about flinched as Satoshi so nearly tripped over her! "My lady," she said, clambering up to her feet with the help of her halberd. "What brings you here?" she asked with a gentle smile, leaning over to place her whetstone down on the bench and to bring her journal closer to her; along with Oathkeeper. She was merely bringing her possessions - few that they were - closer to her, as if to occupy less space. "Something wrong with your sword…?"
Satoshi might have been caught flat-footed, but she recovers quickly back into her usually composed self. Her gaze catches the movement of Hildegarde's belongings, lingering a second longer on the book lying open, before the magus gives a nod, expression frustrated. Ko'tar's metal sheathe is held tighter as Satoshi glowers at it. "It's being remarkably recalcitrant. And I have no use for a blade that refuses to be drawn," she declares, not to the Silver, but to the katana in the manner of a mother scolding her child. Seemingly in response, the sword emits a resonate hum that's suspiciously pensive in nature. Satoshi's eyes narrow, as if she can translate the musical notes into actual words, before the sword is propped against the nearby bench, out of reach. Dutifully, the magus ignores the sullen trills coming from her weapon, instead focusing on Hildegarde with a gesture to her nearby belongings. "And what's occupying your time today, knight?"
Hildegarde looked to the blade and smiled almost knowingly, "I'm sure it just needs some time, my lady," she suggested, not entirely sure but assuming it'd be a better solution than nothing at all! At the resonate hum, the knight feels her head tilt with interest, looking to the sword as if she wanted to understand; her natural curiosity piqued by it but she is quickly distracted by Satoshi's question. "Preparation, my lady. My weapons must always be ready for combat and well-taken care over. I'd be remiss if they suddenly broke in combat. Besides, with my set of armour gone and Kenway busy in Xailous - he's learning evasive flying techniques - I need something to… well, spoil? I don't know. I need something to focus my attention upon, something to properly care about." The knight did not have much to her name, too proud and too humble to admit such. "I was also practicing writing again," she said with a little grin, "I think I can finally write in a straight line again."
Satoshi settles down on the bench in the open space between Hildegarde and Ko'tar, nodding along to the Silver's words. "I see, I see." As she speaks, her hand moves over without thinking to draw the journal closer, so that she can get a better look at the script. The movement is so casual, it's clear Satoshi doesn't see this is some invasion of privacy where permission is required. "Not bad, considering the loss of your eye. You're recovering well~."
Hildegarde was not the sort of woman to refuse her Queen, so she says nothing in protest when Satoshi moves the journal closer to her. "I think the eye is recovered. It simply takes time to get used to it. Some days I forget that it's all different, that things are closer to me or further away than they seem." The Silver offered a little shrug of her shoulder, "Well enough, I suppose, to protect my Queen and Frostmaw." Indeed, she says nothing about Satoshi casually looking into her journal. She, in fact, seems to fall quiet; as if waiting for the woman to read it and have her say.
Satoshi is in the midst of glancing through the journal, reading Hildegarde's innermost thoughts and feelings as if they were simply a storybook, when a Frost Giant stumbles through the door. Quickly the guard composes himself, although it is clear from his heaving chest that he's run here despite being in full armor. The young guard is easily recognized as Astvar, one of the sentries stationed outside the fort's gates, for he's an amiable fellow always eager to hail the magus, knight, and any other frequent visitors to the building. Satoshi sets Hildegarde's journal down without taking her gaze off the winded giant as he throws her and the Silver a salute. "Lady Frostmaw. Lady knight," he greets between gasps of air, "Captain Tharn has returned. He's gone to the throne room. Something... is wrong." There's a certain wild-eyed manner to Astvar's gaze, as if he has seen something he cannot explain, and knows no other option than to seek out his Queen. Satoshi looks toward Hildegarde then, expression a silent request for the knight to join her.
Hildegarde could have sworn she heard a sort of movement rapidly approaching their position, the clanking and clinking of metal that she knew only too well. She rose to her feet before Astvar arrived, obviously ready for the worst; to defend her Queen until her very end. Her relief, however, is evident when Astvar makes himself known and throws a salute their way, delivering his news and leaving the two women in silence. Hilde merely belted her sword to her hip and nodded to Satoshi, ready to follow her in the depths of hell itself.
Frozen Throne
Satoshi hesitates, hand hovering over Ko'tar, before she grasps the blade and returns it to its place at her hip. Arguments with the weapon can wait until later. And thus with Hildegarde accompanying her, the magus strides past Astvar and down the lengthy eastern hall of the fort. It's no wonder the guard had lost his breath running to deliver the message, for Frostmaw's fort is a sprawling construct even by a giant's standards, and for one as small as Satoshi it's something of a hike to get to her throne room. Being undead, however, the foxkin has no breath to lose in such a trek, meaning she's composed and ready when she steps past the open doors and into the abnormally guardless room. Ahead, standing just in front of and facing the throne, is a Frost Giant in the distinctive armor of the Queensguard--with the white plume on his helm signifying him as the Captain. Even without the armor or seeing his face, Satoshi would recognize Tharn anywhere, and yet the magus frowns. Tharn's armor is dented and scratched, bearing stains of blood or dirt, and there's a scent in the air, a reek of death mingled with magic that makes Satoshi's whiskers go rigid. "Tharn...?" At hearing his name, the Frost Giant's shoulders twitch, and he turns, movement jerky and stiff, toward the knight and queen. A skeletal face leers back at them from within the helmet, scraps of flesh hanging off the bone in dried ribbons. A single eye remains, the piercing blue that belonged to Tharn in life, and now remains with him in undeath. What flesh still clings to Tharn's face is drawn back in a grimace then.
Hildegarde exercised on a daily basis, which was fortunate given the sprawling landscape of Frostmaw and the fort itself! But she followed closely, ignoring the faint stabbing pain in her leg with each quickened step. But the scent of death was lingering, a familiar scent, one she had grown used to as a knight of Frostmaw but particularly when running into Hakkon again. Her fingers flexed around the shaft of her halberd warily, eyeing the dented back of Tharn's armour with little hope: she had a feeling that this reunion would not be a pleasant one, which disheartened her greatly. Tharn was the captain of the Queensguard, a warrior she could look up to and draw inspiration from. To see him now, it only brought sadness to her heart. As the giant jerkily turned around to offer that disturbing grimace, the knight took a defensive step forward; larger form used to sort of cover Satoshi's with that step, to act as a barrier between her and Tharn. "Captain," she addressed him, hoping there was some shred of decent life left in him.
Satoshi takes a step back upon seeing Tharn's shredded, reanimated face. Naturally, the Undead do not bother the magus, she's of a kin to them, rather it's something in Tharn's expression that unsettles her. Astvar was correct, something is wrong. Again the giant's remaining skin stretches with an unhappy expression, as he looks from Satoshi to the Silver knight standing protectively in front of her--somewhere within that eye, a glimmer of approval lurks. "Draw your blade," Tharn orders. His voice is stilted, and rasps like sand over metal, punctuated by peculiar fluctuations where air escapes through the many holes in his throat. Tharn retrieves his battleaxe, the edge chipped and splintered where once it was pristine, ever cared for by the dutiful guard. With a grinding reluctance, the giant's limbs shifts into an offensive stance. "He controls me," is hissed out through clenched teeth, as if to speak brings him agony, "He sent me. To kill you." A second hiss follows the words, coming from Satoshi. "It's enslaving necromancy. He's bound to obey the one who reanimated him. That fact that you're still speaking, Tharn, still resisting..." The giant tries to grin at her words, "Stubborn. Have to be. To guard you."
Hildegarde snorted angrily at the command, a little plume of frost leaving her nostrils to indicate just how angry she was by the situation. It wasn't as if the command itself angered her, more so the fact that the person she looked up to - figuratively and literally! - was being used against her; their form abused and contorted into something that was simply horrible. Her halberd shifted immediately into a defensive position, standing diagonally across her body as she watched Tharn and listened to his exchange with Satoshi. "Name him, Captain," she asked, "name him so I might honour you." Of course, she knew that they would understand her meaning even if the anger in her voice didn't give her away. But the knight took a wary step forward, now addressing Satoshi with that "acting-commander-I'm-tough-really" voice, "My lady, I suggest you step back. I am your shield and sword until the End," she said, almost as if she was reminding herself and not her Queen. "I'm sorry," she said to Tharn, "So very, very sorry, Captain." The halberd twirled in her grip before falling back into the defensive position; the knight ready for whatever might come her way.
Satoshi, oddly enough, obeys Hildegarde and takes a step back. She entrusts the knight to this, for the magus has another task that requires her attention: rooting out the identity of Tharn's master. The threads of magic fill the air, invisible to the eye and yet felt by one such as Satoshi. Unraveling them to find a caster's signature is no simple task however, and she must focus to do so while hoping Hildegarde can hold off Tharn. The giant snarls in response to the Silver's words, the sound at odds with the pained expression in his eye: his orders are at war with his loyalty, barring him from speaking the necromancer's name despite a desire to spill the secrets. With a roar, Tharn charges as his axe-bearing arm draws back... and yet, mere paces from Hildegarde, his legs jerk violently, disrupting his stride and causing his weapon's descending edge to bury itself in the floor to the Silver's left. He might be under binding spells, but Tharn has always been a loyal, steadfast warrior of Frostmaw, and so he fights his shackles with every fiber of his being. A sluggish heave of his arm tears the axe free as Tharn eyes Hildegarde, once again with that spark of approval, as if he's measuring her worth. "Until the End, Silver? Then End me. Protect Frostmaw. Or my jailer will claim your lives. And this throne. END ME!" From behind, with her eyes closed in concentration, Satoshi whispers for the dragon's ears, "Not yet. A few moments more. Drive him to the throne."
Hildegarde didn't want to leave a clear space between Satoshi and Tharn, so diving to the side or slipping behind the giant seemed to be out of the question. As the axe slammed down, she took a small step to the side and twirled the halberd; slamming the shaft of the weapon down hard against the wrist of Tharn as if she were giving him a cheeky slap on the wrist! She didn't want to fight him, it was obvious, but her duty and desire to protect pushed her on, gave her the will and motivation to fight her beloved Captain. "He can try," she said in retort, "but he'll never succeed while I stand!" she roared, leaping forward to brutally shove the shaft of Winterheart against the legs of Tharn to try and push him back; to try and put him off balance and stumble. Anything to get him stumbling back to the throne as Satoshi commanded. The knight would roll away to the side - albeit reluctantly - and growl at Tharn, "You make a shoddy puppet! Your master, your jailer as you say, must be a poor warrior, like you!" she hissed, attempting to taunt him into stepping towards her and further away from Satoshi. Indeed, it was obvious to see the pain in Hilde's single eye; she hated taunting him so.
Satoshi's lip move in a constant, wordless murmur as her sifts through the threads. To her arcane sight, magic appears as the countless threads that, when woven into a spell, create a tapestry, each with a different color and resonance that speaks of its nature. Many of these threads she tosses aside as useless, for they speak only of the schools of magic they come from, or the nature of the spell, but buried beneath this is a shadowy ribbon. Foul in its discordant notes when Satoshi's consciousness brushes it, only for it to slip away like oil meeting water. Still, she's gotten enough of a glimpse of it to understand the nature of the weave. The caster is not a mage. "There's divinity magic in this!" the magus exclaims, eyes opening in her surprise. "A Vakmatharas follower!" Tharn, hearing Satoshi's words, narrows his eyes and manages a rigid nod before he's sent stumbling back from Hildegarde's strike. Were he in his normal state, the shove would not have thrown the giant off-balance, but as Tharn is now, with his limbs in combat with his mind, he has no coordination to speak of. Another few steps backwards, and the back of the captain's legs fetch up against the throne, allowing him to recover. Tharn straightens, fixing his single-eyed gaze on Hildegarde's own. Agony is clear in his expression, yet there's a clarity in his voice when he speaks, "You're ready, Silver. See it through to the end." His eye moves on to Satoshi, staring at him unhappily. She knows what is to come. To her, the giant says, "My successor must be as stubborn as me, to keep up with you." Tharn lifts his chin proudly and the foxkin returns the gesture along with a salute, the ghost of a smile on her face. Soundlessly, the magus steps up behind Hildegarde to place a hand on the knight's shoulder, "Now. Give him to the throne." Like all the Queensguard, Tharn knows of the enchantments buried within the throne, lying in wait for any who dare try to usurp Satoshi's reign. It is why he chose here to confront her, and thus both obey and defy his jailer in a single action. He's ready for Hildegarde to finish it. Now. Before his body can rebel against his mind.
Hildegarde knew full well that it was only due to Tharn's mind and body being in conflict that her shove had done anything to him, but she's also relieved that it worked. She didn't know if she had the strength or will to truly do much else to harm him, even in his current state. "Aye, Captain," she said, voice breaking only once. The knight offered Tharn a meek smile, sad that it had come to this, "May Aramoth smile on you, friend, and share the warmth of his hall with you," she wished upon him, before jerking the rider-wresting end of her halberd up to his gut - or chest if she manage to reach it - with a mighty roar; using her might to forcibly shove him back properly onto the throne.
Satoshi watches as Tharn lets himself be shoved, so that his marred form topples onto the throne in a ramshackle facsimile of a king at ease. The image lasts for a heartbeat before the enchantments burst into life. The ice encasing the Blue Iron construct melts into water so that Tharn's form sinks into its embrace, only for the waters to flashfreeze anew into the shape of an Ice Wyrm. The Frost Giant is entangled in the creature's frozen, serpentine coils as they tighten with draconic strength. Metal groans and pops beneath the pressure, bones snap, and the giant remains silent through it all, eye locked on the ceiling as if waiting for Aramoth to call his name. Tharn has seen his duty to the end despite the necromantic shackles placed upon him. He will die with pride, and this time he'll stay dead. With a roar, the Wyrm rears its head back, opens its jaws wide, and strikes with a cobra's speed to bite down upon the giant's head and upper body. A rending crunch follows as Tharn is ripped apart and crushed simultaneously, before his ruined body is released to crumple to the floor. As swiftly as it had transformed, the throne reverts back to a piece of frozen furniture, awaiting its next fool to devour. Satoshi watches, silent and unmoving, through it all, expression empty. Beneath the calm surface however, rage boils like a storm-churned sea. "He must be put to rest. And then," eyes with amber flecks smouldering are turned on Hildegarde, "we go to war, Captain. Prepare your men."
Hildegarde had never seen the throne in action, but she had heard whispers of it amongst the Queensguard. Nothing solid, just teasing threats and whispers of what it could do to anyone foolish enough to sit on it; a little teasing for the newest member of the Queesnguard was all. Suffice to say, it renders the dragon into a shocked sort of silence, unable to believe that what simply looked like a frozen throne was able to turn to water, to contort its form so entirely and devour a person with such perceived ease. She could only watch, silently flabbergasted, as her captain of the Queensguard is crushed and eventually spat out by the wyrm shaped ice. The knight glanced down to her former and fallen captain, knowing full well how he would be honoured. "I will see to it personally," she vowed, "that he is given the best." A traditional service to send him to Aramoth's great hall, something to rally the troops, the people, something to invoke anger and revenge in the City as a whole. However, in a time of war, Hilde has no time to second guess herself and so she puts it to the side for a brief moment: "As you command, my Queen. I will rally the Queensguard. I am no Commander of Frostmaw's Army," that was a duty for the Champion, "but I will do what I can."
Satoshi nods stiffly before looking back at the fallen Tharn: the young Frost Giant who had been unlucky enough to be assigned as her personal guard, who she had made a game of hiding from, who had proven himself wiser than his years and cleverer than she'd thought, and who had more than a guard to Satoshi over the years. No more games, no more caution, Satoshi and Frostmaw will not endure another insult. "All of them, Captain. Every soul that has died from the Ice Plague, I want them all given the proper service. I don't care that our lumber supplies are low. They will not remain without Aramoth's pyre any longer." Only, Satoshi does not know that the decision is too little, too late, for Tharn's undead arrival was not merely a mockery and assassination attempt, it was a diversion. The corpses of the Frost Giants who had died of the plague, all one hundred and twelve, have disappeared from where they were stored, as will be discovered in the coming hours.
Hildegarde gave another nod, "Then we will host a great service," she said in answer. "I will contact who I can to receive more lumber right away, even if I must fetch it myself." Truly, the knight was not beyond taking to her truest of forms and ripping trees up for the sake of a grand pyre for their fallen. "I'll speak to the priests now, to tell them to prepare our dead for a pyre. I will find Tharn's ceremonial armour," she said, knowing that he would be sent forth to Aramoth in the finest of his armour, his battle-axe sent with him.
Satoshi strides forward as Hildegarde speaks, approaching Tharn's remains. Kneeling down, heedless of the pooling blood, the magus places a hand upon the giant's forehead in a silent farewell before closing his eyes for him. Satoshi stands then and turns back to the Silver, eyes blazing and hair stirring in an unfelt wind. "Then, we will avenge our people. I will not endure this any longer. They have harmed my own too many times. It's my turn now."
Hildegarde was not a woman who longed for war, battle and blood. But in this instance she may well make an exception. "We will crush our foes," she said, albeit a little quietly, not wishing to ruin the gentle moment between the fallen Tharn and the Queen in mourning. The knight was waiting for the Queen to give her leave, before heading off on her quest to give rest to all of Frostmaw's fallen. "Is there anything more I can do for you, my lady?" she asked, like a noble knight from a fairy tale would ask.
Satoshi shakes her head, the gesture as much an answer as a dismissal. It'd seem the magus simply wants to remain here with Tharn for a while longer, until the priests come to collect him. In that time span, Satoshi will do what she can with her magic to restore Tharn's body to a semblance of completion.
Hildegarde nodded in acceptance, leaving Satoshi to care for Tharn's body rather than to interrupt their moment. She would leave, though, immediately for the shamans and priests of Aramoth to prepare a pyre for their dead.