Skäne smiles mirthlessly as the guard pleads for mercy;
"Nei. Releasing you will allow that tunga to wag."
The warrior points the dagger towards the man's mouth, then continues;
"To save that tunga. To save your life, best talk some more... Tell all of this Marcian. All about the gætir ..."
The blade shifts to point towards Geedra;
"That one. The wyrd little... Nibelung... She has völva-auga You lie, she will vita . You lie and I cut you. Fair trade..."
"If you wish to live to see the next sunrise, you will answer us this: Where is Ringeirr being held?"
The others have this well in hand.
Katie pulls out her diary and starts sketching again, pausing only to look menacingly at the man on occasion.
The man shudders in his bindings, realizing that his offer is being instantly rejected. His quivering eyes move slowly to Geedra, the goblin peering out from beneath her hood at him with that trademark grin splashed across her face. The prisoner swallows hard, weighing Cara and Skäne's words carefully.
"Marcian is the leader of the guard here," he says dismally. "Appointed by the jadwiga themselves. He keeps the law here in the 'camps. There's 'bout sixteen of us, give or take. Most folk know not to cause no trouble, and most don't give us none. So long as they pay their taxes and obey the law, no problems. Ringeirr liked to cause problems, so Marcian had him rounded up. Keepin' him at the lodge - big building near the center of camp. Marcian's giant pals keep there, too, so you know. 'N Marcian no fluff, he can fight too. Best to pay 'im off and take your man, I'd say." The man looks nervously about, as if anticipating some sort of distant repercussion to his loose tongue. "Fine, there, that's good information. Let me go. I'm good as dead if I stay here and someone finds out all I've said, so just let me go and I'll be gone, won't ever see me no more and I won't cause you no problems."
Skäne listens to the man's words with a hard, impassive expression.
When the guard is finished spilling his truth, the warrior looks to Geedra;
"Truth or lies little Nibelung?"
Cara listens calmly to the man's story for any hints of deceit.
As far as you can tell, the man is telling the truth. Even his promise to leave and disappear seems to be earnest, despite his obvious anxiety. The man's eyes fall onto the compact hooded form of Geedra, as Skäne's interrogation has suggested to him that his life hangs on her decision.
Krosh watches stoically from behind, still sitting atop a sled, with the trinkets and fetishes hanging from his stag skull helm tinkling in the breeze. He stares down hard at the man, lending his own sort of overbearing intimidation, the hot mist of his breath rhythmically finding egress from the mouth of the skull
”Geedra not care. Kill guard or not kill guard. Group am believe that guard am leave and not tell? If not believe, definitely kill.”
"He might still be useful for information or a hostage." Cara suggests with little conviction, "In any case, I don't suggest we let him go free until we've dealt with his superior."
Skäne nods in agreement at Cara's words;
"Aye. Think this fool does segja true, but best we let him go once we complete our sam-eign with this Marcian."
The man grumbles. "Well, if you're not to be lettin' me go now, then I hope you kill Marcian, else he'll kill me for turnin' cloak."
You head to the 'Lodge' as your prisoner called it, the larger structure near the center of the fishcamps that looks like it was actually once a much smaller building. It has haphazardly and roughly been expanded upon, with additions tacked on in every direction to the central building whose architecture is obviously a bit different. It's easy to find, not only because of its size and peculiar construction, but because people seem to give the place a wide birth, conspicuously avoiding walking near it. As you draw nearer, you can see that the words 'Guardhouse Lodge' have been painted on the building's oversized front door, along with a sloppy representation of a shield crossed by a hook.
The front door seems to be either locked or barred.
In response to your announcement, you hear the sound of something heavy being moved just inside, and a moment later the large door creaks open, and a large, brutish ogre sticks his head out. A rush of a sour, sickly odor greets you as the ogre rubs his groggy eyes and blinks, a tangle of greasy black hair falling down his face. He grunts and hocks up some spit before speaking in a guttural common. "What want? Go away, get lost. Out."
Skäne casts a baleful gaze at the jotunn-kin that appears;
"Our message is for Marcian brute. Now step aside."
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Geedra’s eyes bulge out at the large ogre poking his head out the door. ”Big ugly, for sure,” she whispers, waiting to see what sort of response it has for the group. Geedra might have been intimidated, if anyone could tell for sure.
"I would suggest you listen to this man if you know what is good for you."
The ogre looks more confused than intimidated, sleepily rubbing his eyes once more as he blinks and looks out across your gathered group. He yawns and shrugs, turning his head away from the door to call out into the space behind him. "Boss, these want talk." The ogre continues to stand there until you here lighter footfalls come closer to the door, and a figure put itself into view, making the ogre step back a foot or so.
A man now stands before you, about six feet tall with slightly greasy brownish hair pushed out of his face. A similar beard hangs from his square jaw, and his dark eyes peek out beneath a a furrowed brow, flanking a pinched nose, which all collectively gives him a rather consistently unpleasant expression. His clothes, though a bit dirty, are finer than those you have seen on any other in the camps, grey and blue vestments covered by a fine enough looking suit of leather armor, and an azure half-cape fastened with an iron clasp with the same blazon as the sign on the door.
He looks over you all for a moment sporting his sour look, and gives a haughty clearing of his throat. "And what do you want, I wonder?"
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"Um... um..." If she leaves this to Skane...
That's a fight.
Geedra?
That's a fight.
Cara?
That's... possibly a fight.
Uuuugh, this is her least favorite thing in the world, and she's still already had to try being the people person once today. Still, she's going to try!
"We're here for Ringeirr." Katie chimes in, walking to the front of the group. "You should let us have him. Trust me, it's easier that way."
Skäne keeps a hard eye on Marcian, and more pointedly, the ogre brute lurking at his shoulder.
"Best heed her words... And pick your own wisely..."
Cara stands back for the moment, looking revealed that someone finally decided to take the lead on dealing with the disgusting man. The only direct solution she felt comfortable with involved firing arrows which probably wasn't for the best.
Marcian blinks, his pinched, scowled face taking on an even more offensive visage. "Easier?" he sneers. He pushes the door open slightly, allowing you to peer into his establishment. You see another brutish ogre within, a cruel hook at the ready. "Easier?" He lets out a shrill whistle. A moment later, two more guards step around from the corners of the building, brandishing their own curved blades. "Do you have any idea who I am, you ingrates? No one gives me orders. If you want Ringeirr Malenkov, you can pay his ransom for release. Five. Hundred. Gold. And if you test me again, that fee will climb."
Skäne smiles darkly at Marcian's words;
"500 Gull ..? Tell you what Marcian Þursmunuðr Our 500 coins against Reingeirr's fjörlausn ... Me against one of your big bed-warmers there... Einvigi When I win you give us Ringeirr alive... "
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”That am good game! Big human am strong. Beat any of Marcian’s thugs! Good day for fight!”. Geedra rubbed her hands together, deciding whether or not to take odds on the possible scrum.
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Cara looks slightly disappointed when it seems that she might not be able to fire arrows at the disgusting human, but makes no moves to interfere.
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Katie, while the others are talking and Skane is doing his... Skane thing, will just have a quiet look around the room to see how many guards the guy keeps handy for in case of a fight breaking out in his office.
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Marcian stares hard at Skäne for what seems like an eternity, his stony expression difficult to read. Even the ogre at his side seems to note that the silence is uncomfortable long and shifts his weight, looking down sidelong at his boss. Finally, the hint of a wry grin appears in the corner of the thug's mouth. "What do you say, Whark. Do you want to bash this man's skull in?"
The ogre shrugs. "I bash. Bash is good."
"You're either mad, brave, or both, Ulfen. But your stakes are interesting. If you can best Whark, you can have your old man...and if you lose, I'll take that 500 gold pieces and you can have the old man, but I'll take you in his place. Seems like a grand wager, no? One hour, in this square here," he points to the open area ahead of the lodge. "And today started out so dull."
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An hour later, you return to the square to find Marcian and Whark the ogre standing near the center. The other ogre is back a ways, standing in front of the door to the lodge itself. Apparently, word of this bout has spread throughout the Fishcamps, and a whole crowd has gathered around the square, kept at a distance by a force of Fishcamp guards, who patrol the perimeter, knocking people back in line with the butt ends of their hooks. You spot easily a dozen of these thugs.
"Well, here you are!" Marcian calls. "As I said, mad or brave, or both. Now, this will be a good clean fight. None of your strange friends are to help you - not that you're Ulfen honor would ever accept such a tarnish, I'd wager. Whark, beat this man into the ground and you'll have the biggest, tastiest feast you could ever hope for." Marcian walks back to join the other ogre, leaving Whark in the center of the square.
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Geedra cackles with glee. She’d normally try to use a Hex on one of the creatures, but she knew the man was right...Skane would get angry if she cheated. So she stood by...and waited for the fireworks to begin.
Skäne marches the pairs dark smiles with one of his own;
"I'm fine with the terms. Just remember to hēdhra them when I gut that istrumagi brute."
At Marcian's words the vikingr merely nods, then looks to his companions as he limbers up.
Skäne turns toward the ogre, then clangs clangs sword upon shield mirthlessly.
Big basterd. Need to get on him quick.
Shield readied he rushes forward, covering the distance at a sprint , then unleashes a chopping swing at the brute's hip;
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While Skane Skanes, Katie goes through her mental list of ways she can possibly help without breaking the rules (Ulfen Honor was more of his thing than hers, to be perfectly honest). Skane's strong, sure, but if she can stack the deck she probably should.
Timely Inspiration had a vocal requirement, and would shine magically. Same for Saving Finale, and she'd have to be singing besides. Any of her musical-based abilities also would be fairly obvious...
She's a buffer left unable to buff, and so all she can do is worry her lip and fold her arms.
'Skane, if you live through this, I'm going to strangle you for making me worry.'
Duel - Round 1
Skäne is quicker than the ogre, immediately setting off into a hard charge at the giant. A gasp murmurs across the gathered villagers as he closes the distance, swinging his longsword around to strike. The blade cuts a gash into the ogre's side and he grunts as blood wells up from beneath his rags. He looks down at Skäne and his ruddy face becomes flushed with anger.
"Bad. BAD BAD," he yells, gripping his large hook with both hands as he brings it down in a wild swing against the Ulfen. The hook collides with Skäne's shield, but the sheer strength of the brute pushes onward, the edge of the weapon scraping across the metal bulwark and through to carve a wound into the vikingr's shoulder and chest.
A shout comes up from some of the villagers, and the guards continue to keep them in line, pushing them back with the butts of their own hooks.
"Still standing?" Marcian calls out, his voice infused with condescension. "You're tougher than you look, I'll give you that! Come on now, Whark, get this over with."
Skäne reels as the jotunn's heavy hook leaves its mark, but he grits his teeth and forces a hard smile;
"That supposed to hurt me alicarl ? Felt more like a lover's strjúka !"
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On the back of his insult, the warrior swings his blade once again at the meaty knee of the ogre;
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...Oh.
Now Katie has something to do. She's going to go ahead and paint an entire picture in her head, just so that she can try putting it down later in entirety.
In the meanwhile...
"Go Skane! Stab his face in!"
The ogre seems more focused on the fight now after having been injured, and manages to push Skäne's follow up slash to the side with the edge of his cruel hook. "Bad little man!" he bellows as he turns his parry into a cut of his own, pushing the sharpened hook's edge at the Ulfen with vigor. Skäne puts his shield between himself and the blow, however, and this time keeps it in check. A good thing, too, as the force behind the blow feels liken it could have cleaved an aurochs in half!.
A hesitant cheer flutters throughout the crowd as Skäne repels the blow.
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Geedra looks around, duly impressed by the bloodlust of the crowd. ”Yea! Geedra am like the fight! Maybe Cara am fight ogre next?!”
Skäne scowls at the ogre's fell hook is turned aside, then presses home another attack of his own- this one a wild chop at the brute's meaty arm;
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Cara watches the fight with quiet wariness, perhaps doubting the word of Marcian even if Skäne manages to defeat ogre.
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Geedra looks at the rest of the group. ”When group am go save big dummy? Ogre too big and strong. Group am Wait one more swing, maybe?”. Geedra couldn’t have been less concerned with rules or Skane’s sense of honor. He kept the bad guys off her most of the time, and she wasn’t going to let him fall down without doing something about it.
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"If we jump in and save him, Skane's going to be complaining about it all the way back to the sled... and then probably for the next week or two. The Ogre's strong, but Skane's pretty hard to hit."
She pauses for a count of three.
"We'll give him two more swings."
”Big human,move face out of way! Stop let ogre hit all the time,” Geedra helpfully offers.
Skäne presses the attack, coming at the ogre with another hard chop after deflecting the brute's own blow. Whark seems to be a bit more competent of a fighter than his earlier grogginess let on, however, and once more he is able to parry the blow. After sweeping Skäne's longsword away, Whark comes back in swift and hard with a cut of his own, carving a gruesome gash across the ulfen warrior.
Once more, a gasp flutters throughout the crowd as Skäne takes the savage blow. It is hard to miss the menacing sneer on Marcian's face as ogre lands the hit. Nadya looks around to the rest of you, obviously a bit worried. "How much more do you think he can take?" she wonders quietly.
Krosh's deep voice arises from behind. "It is not his time to pass on, Huntress...this rider's ride is far from over."
Skäne staggers as the ogre's fell hook leaves another deep furrow... then smiles darkly to himself.
The warrior hefts his shield with a nod, spitting some blood, then moves in again - low and stabbing hard as they two combatants clash anew;
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Skäne turns the wound that the Ogre just laid upon him into retaliation. The Ulfen's blade comes in for another chop, but changes direction and goes low before the ogre has a chance to react. The blade dives deep into the giant's thigh and he howls in agony, nearly dropping his hook as he staggers, thick and dark red blood surging from the gruesome injury. Across the square, Marcian grunts, and slyly elbows the other ogre in the leg. Whark tries to counterattack, but barely manages to wave his hook in Skäne's direction.
The other ogre breaks out into the square, barreling down on Skäne suddenly with a hard overhand chop of his own hook. The viking's warrior instinct comes through, though, and his shield meets the hook a mere inch away from his head.
"That's enough. Guards, kill these outsiders!" Marcian howls.
Nadya is quick to respond. "Looks like that's our cue."
As one ogre staggers and the other joins the gray, Skäne flashes a bloody grin.
"Heh. Now you all die..."
Then roars as he lashes out at the brutal newcomer;
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Initiative
Geedra cackles as the ogres finally gave up and started a full scale battle. She moved to Cara, and gave her a touch of magic, improving her in basically every way.
"What'd I tell you? Two swings." Katie wryly quips, drawing her blade as well. She takes in a deep breath, lets her frustration boil to the surface, and begins to sing.
Well, 'sing' is something of a strong word this time, she's outright yelling in Ulfen from the very bowels of her lungs in a semi-melodic way that nonetheless serves to pump up one's blood.
Your honor's just a farce!
Your blood will paint this snow red!
This town is done with yooooou!!"
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"Humans not keeping their word, how surprising." Cara says dryly as she draws her bow and fires an arrow at the nearest threat.
The duel erupts into pure chaos, aptly announced by Skäne throwing himself into his berserker rage. With a ferocious roar he swings his blade at the second ogre, muscles rippling down his arm as his fury takes hold. The blade hacks deep into the ogre's side and he lets out a pained bellow as blood surges from the wound. Both ogres are wounded heavily, though Whark is worse off for certain.
The guards do as they are commanded, abandoning their perimeter posts to leap into the fray. Five of them come running at the group as they are springing into action as well, brandishing their hooks with cruel intent. Katie starts a war chant, Geedra casts a spell, Nadya readies her weapons, and Krosh waits patiently. Something unexpected happens, however, as a stone comes soaring through the air and hits one of the charging guards in the side of the head. He stumbles and looks about, and it becomes obvious that the rock was lobbed by an onlooker in the gathered crowd. The guard fumes, stomping two steps in the direction the stone came from before another hits him in the chest.
And then there is another group charging - a group of villagers. They surge around the man and pummel him to the ground. Nearby, a few other guards are similarly dragged to the cold earth by the crowd.
Four do make it to the group, and Katie, Krosh, Cara, and Nadya all are made targets. Cara releases an arrow as they approach, but it finds no home in enemy flesh. These thugs are surprisingly somewhat adept with their weapons, with all but Krosh's assailant finding purchase on their marks. Cara receives an especially harsh cut by her attacker.
Marcian begins to walk towards Skäne and the ogres.
Nadya counterattacks, lashing out at her assailant with blade and axe. She manages a glancing blow with the sword, cutting a shallow gash into the thug, but her axe goes wide.
Krosh beseeches his spirit overseers, and calls a scintillating breeze of silver motes over the area, healing all allies of some of their wounds.
Skäne: 21
Guards: 20
Geedra: 16
Nadya: 14
Krosh: 13
Katie: 13
Cara: 27 (Delayed)
Ogres: 4
Buoyed by the open revolt and the healing he receives Skäne grins manically, attempting to draw pause on the newer ogre he faces;
"The rats will gnaga at your bones fat one. This day you die!"
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Unconvinced the brute will quail, the warrior follows up his taunt with a hack at the brutes arm;
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