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Post by KD on Jul 13, 2014 20:06:14 GMT -5
Audun nodded easily. He wasn't anymore impressed by Ulfr's anger than he was with the Jarl's and he wasn't faking it, either. One that the impression of Ulfr pulled his sword and ran him through right then and there, he wouldn't try and stop him, would probably die with that same ironic smile on his lips. He was truly an infuriating man. He slanted a look at Ulfr and shook his head. "She was better off here. With you. Where she was raped...oh,yes, everyone heard about that...beaten, and scarred, all with either your ignorance or approval. No, Jarl's son, I don't feel any guilt over letting her out to have a fighting chance for survival and see what kind of trouble she can cause. We all grab our entertainment where we can. As for hurting people...well that fact I didn't consider that a problem rather shows I have a better grasp of her nature than you do."
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Post by Jenny on Jul 13, 2014 20:28:03 GMT -5
Ulfr lowered his eyes at the reminder that the woman had been raped. He had pushed that far from his mind, the weeks had seemed to be ages, so much had happened… The fact that he was caught off guards caused him to lapse him into a silence. A pang of guilt ran through him, though he had no reason to do so. He had not raped him, and was not Audun a moment ago speaking of doing such a thing? Ulfr studied the man through half-narrowed eyes.
“We will see, won’t we?”
He turned and walked away, feeling justified at least a small amount. He struggled with his thoughts. He didn’t want anyone getting hurt on account that the Celtic woman had gone free, but he wanted to not be proved wrong… and desperately. Because if he was wrong about this woman, albeit the fact that she had spared him… it would go against everything that he had been taught to believe. It was against his nature.
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Post by KD on Jul 13, 2014 20:36:11 GMT -5
Audun called after him, amused, not caring if anyone else heard or not. "A word of comfort for you, Jarl's son: that girl isn't as much of a witch as you believe. She hasn't bewitched you. You're a hotblooded young man and she's a beautiful hellcat of a woman, it's as simple as that."
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Post by Jenny on Jul 13, 2014 20:48:22 GMT -5
Ulfr stopped walking, turned, and gave him a cold look over his shoulder. He did not dignify him with a reply but stalked away to retrieve his horse. He tore at the reigns to get them unbound, muttering angrily to himself about just what he thought of Audun, and spooked his horse. He cursed his anger and soothed the steed with a hand and mounted, far easier than he should have been able to. It surprised him.
He kicked the horse into a canter to tear up the hill at a fast pace, heading for his sanctuary.
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Post by KD on Jul 13, 2014 21:04:12 GMT -5
Eira moved higher up into the mountain, slowly building up supplies as she did. She hunted for meat and furs, making them into warmer clothes. She had reached the point where going up much further would be too dangerous because of the air and cold when she found the ruins. Curiously, she stepped through a collapsed archway, looking around. Eira had never seen the inside of the fortress behind the Jarl's manor but she would have seen similarities in architecture if she had. This place had been a much rougher and more primitive stone building than that fortress. Since a lot of it was built into the mountain itself, Eira quickly discovered it would make a fine home.
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Post by Jenny on Jul 13, 2014 21:07:41 GMT -5
When he rode into the grove of trees at their last meeting, he hopped off his horse after pulling on its reigns. Ulfr bent down, searching for any signs of the woman. Why he was bothering to look for her was beyond him but he felt compelled to do so. He started with the tree where he had been lying not a day before, and searched as closely as he could for signs where she may have gone.
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Post by KD on Jul 13, 2014 21:12:58 GMT -5
There were signs a lesser tracker than Ulfr might have missed. Blood in the branches of a tree a little ways from the grove where she'd obviously been laying. Beyond that, there were signs she'd been hunting, picking berries and nuts, the remains of small cooking fires, places she'd made a little nest for a few days, all going further and further up the mountain.
Using an abandoned room, she was pleased to find she could make a proper smokehouse without having to build a half hearted one. Eira hummed as she cleaned out some of the passageways she intended to use, one of her mother's favored prayer songs.
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Post by Jenny on Jul 13, 2014 21:21:53 GMT -5
Ulfr went slowly, touching the cold ash in the cooking fires, looking at the scattered remains of animals that had been skinned and cooked. Seeing as the furs were missing except for a few bits here and there he realized that she meant to prepare for the winter. There was no more blood after a short while as he followed her trail, surprised that she was not as careful as she should be, at least to his adept eye for it. She might as well have left a trail of breadcrumbs. He stopped at the foot of a cliff and looked upwards. He had a feeling he knew where she may go to find shelter, but he could not be certain of it. Still, the remains of the fires were not a few days old so she could not have traversed far, even if she was not badly wounded. He silently backtracked the two miles he had gone to seek out the signs, and returned to his horse. He would not find her today, but at least he knew that she was there. If it were him, he would begin to gather for the long winter ahead, but it was madness. Even if she did gather enough supplies to last for several months she would be forced to stay in one spot the entire time, if she was to make stores. He would leave her to herself for the time being and return in a few weeks, to rout her out.
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Post by KD on Jul 13, 2014 21:27:54 GMT -5
As he returned down the mountain, a stag with white fur stepped out of his grove, staring at him with its dark eyes that were eerily like the Celtic girl's. It stood still for a long moment, then bounded away up the mountain, disappearing in a few moments.
Eira, to Ulfr's credit, hadn't noticed she was being tracked. She explored, much like she had the first day, taking in the area. It was a good choice to hole up since it had clean water via a large stream that passed through the ruins, probably one of the reasons it was built around it. It wasn't a long trek to go down and find berries, herbs, and nuts as well as good hunting.
It wasn't home, but it would do.
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Post by Jenny on Jul 13, 2014 21:40:13 GMT -5
Ulfr saw the white stag and stopped, having to marvel at its brilliance. He had never before beheld such a creature. Regular stags, sure. But white? It was surreal. He stared deeply into those intelligent eyes and held his breath, letting it go only when the stag left him. What sign was this?
Shaken by the sight, Ulfr continued until he reached his horse. He ran his hand down its powerful neck and it raised his head and snuffed him curiously, as if the animal could sense the stag’s presence.
“You feel it too,” he breathed. He shook his head and mounted the horse, giving one last look at the mountain pass, then turned his horse and left. He would wait a few weeks, until after the harvest, the day she had been meant to die. He would give her time to feel safe and secure, confident even. Then he would find her.
He turned the horse to the manor. It was beginning to grow dark and he wanted to be inside before he was too long missed.
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Post by KD on Jul 13, 2014 21:47:22 GMT -5
It started during a cold night just as the harvest had begun.
The little girl, a farmer's daughter, had wandered into the woods after her brother threw her doll in. Unable to find it, she'd gotten turned around and lost in the woods, becoming frightened as the night closed in. The people from surrounding farms gathered together to go and search for her, becoming increasingly disheartened.
The girl's mother later swore to everyone she met that it was a magical creature of some kind, covered in fur, its head decorated with antlers like a stag, carrying her daughter to the edge of the woods as dawn faded into true morning and setting the little girl down. By the time it had reached as far as the Jarl's manor, people were gossiping that it was a woman riding a great wolf with wings like a raven's. All the girl said was that it was a beautiful lady who had found her and helped her find her way back home. And her doll.
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Post by Jenny on Jul 13, 2014 22:07:57 GMT -5
The tale reached the Jarl’s ears, and he waved it off as superstition. The child was found and that was all that mattered to him. A lost child who was found dead, however, would bode ill for the harvest and the harvest was what his people survived on during the cold winter months.
The Nords worked hard to bring in the harvest, taking their own shares to store away, the grains threshed, the corn set to dry, canning vegetables and fruits for much needed vitamins to supplement the grain, and made large rounds of cheeses which would be bound in wax once they cured. And wine, barrels of it. Mead and beer and other liquors were stored away after they had aged properly. And the autumn harvest feast! Oh what a feasting!
The Jarl’s son was sure to toast many in Asger’s name, and for the fruitful harvest, though the bins seemed a little shorter than usual, and none too soon for the frost began not many days hence.
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Post by KD on Jul 13, 2014 22:15:54 GMT -5
Before long, people were whispering the mountain was haunted by a spirit of some sort. People swore they saw lights high on the mountain, smelled the scent of meat, some people who went up said they had heard a haunting voice drifting on the wind.
They had heard and seen all those things, though it was simply an escaped slave preparing to hunker down for the winter, smoking meat and drying fruits and herbs. The antlers had been a nice touch when she'd brought the girl back down. The white stag had shed them not far from the ruins and she had taken them. It had started rumors of spirits, people believing the mountain might be haunted, which kept them away.
She stood, wrapped in a wolfskin, watching the leaves drift down from the trees. The wolf had almost torn her apart as effectively as Asger had. She'd managed to get above him on a ruin and shoot him down, making good use of his teeth, bones, and fur.
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Post by Jenny on Jul 13, 2014 22:49:46 GMT -5
Sitting in the mead hall, he had heard the servants gossip in dark corners. Ulfr heard all of these things, and smiled, knowing that it was not simply spirits. Indeed, it was the Celtic woman. Not his, not any longer… perhaps. He stopped short at that thought. When had he begun thinking this way? It unnerved him a little. Months before, when that woman had been gifted to him, he cared not of her welfare. Gods, he had allowed Asger to carve her up, caring not! Why did he think of this thrall as something more than that? He must be getting soft… or perhaps these tales were indeed getting to him and he saw her as something else.
He stood suddenly from the table, swearing as he knocked over his third cup of mead. He picked up the cup and set it back on a table, while a serving maid came quickly to mop it up, apologizing for gods knows what even though it was he who had disturbed it. He scowled at the woman, who shrunk back and fidgeted with her towel for a moment, and stalked out of the room. He had waited long enough, it was time that he find this woman and put an end to the woven lore spoken before the fires of night.
The time of night was late, and most servants were going to bed to wake early to serve their masters. He waved a hand as he entered the stables and told the stable boy sitting beside a candle to go abed and he would saddle a horse himself. He did so, able to not always rely on a stable hand all the time, and took the roan mare out, leading it a few paces outside before mounting it, taking up the reigns and heading towards the mountains. As out of habit, he led the horse first to the grove of trees and then up the mountain pass. Moonlight may be his only light but he had long ago explored the old ruins before, if only a lad.
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Post by KD on Jul 13, 2014 23:03:15 GMT -5
By that time, Eira had had enough time to consider someone might come after her. She had traps laid out around the area directly around the ruins. Some obvious like pit traps, some much more cunning, like tripwires made of branches that sent small bolts of wood shooting out at whoever tripped it. There were also ones that sent bent branches rocketing upward from a bent position, less for trying to harm someone and more to give warning someone was coming up. The white stag, sans antlers, was also around, although Ulfr only caught flashing glimpses of him.
Eira stepped out into the dark and stood atop one of the ruins in the moonlight, her head cocked, her senses on alert though she couldn't say why.
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