"Peace, sister. The pig will know his own pain, soon enough." Idana closes her eyes and listens. Even without her magic she can smell the storm in the air. Hear it in the whistle of the wind. Feel the pressure of the air change, even in this dank place.
"The storm is coming. It will deliver us."
When sleep comes, it finds a smile on Idana's face.
Sigurd growls, hearing the man's foul words. If only these chains were a bit stronger. If only they reached a bit farther. Tomorrow, before they get the opportunity, he'll try to kill that man. He'll show them that the Norden do not cave to such cowardly acts and how fierce they can be when push comes to shove.
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She tries to say something. Daerdryn knows that. She grabs the bars as her anger builds, staring holes into this hateful man. Electricity arcs from her skin to slide up and down the bars.
The rage dies in its infancy when Lomar mentions her children and what he'll do to them. The fight leaves her completely and she just sinks to the floor. The worst part... Cevalius gets to see it all. A whipped dog coming to heel.
She doesn't move from that spot, just staring ahead until sleep finally takes her.
"What did you just say?"
As Idana speaks of the storm, Olyenna smiles. She could smell the change in the air as well. Besides, her older sister was almost never wrong, especially when it came to things like this. She would wait, save her strength for the moment she was out of these chains. She would feed the pig his own pathetic little manhood before he died.
As things quiet down, she drifts off to sleep.
Daerdryn's display of power, even with the dampening effects of the shackles, is impressive enough that few of the soldiers stay to see Captain Cevalius take the fight from the fiery woman.
"I asked if you have enjoyed my gift to you," the man repeats, a rumble of thunder drowning out his quiet chuckle. He slides off the cot and kneels so that his eyes are in line with yours. "Though it seems to have gotten you into more trouble than I had anticipated," He says quietly as he runs a hand through your hair, not like a lover, but like an older brother comforting a sister or an uncle soothing the hurts of a favored niece, "I say let your troubles match the gift I have given you."
He rises to his feet, pausing only to kiss you gently on the forehead where your hairline is, and with a flourish, he bows.
"Until the next time I laugh in the clouds over your head," he teases before there is a flash of lightning and the terrific boom of thunder.
And he is gone. The only thing left is a fading voice on the wind.
"I hope you enjoy this gift more now. I'd hate to have my feelings hurt."
A terrible clap of thunder jolts even the dead from their sleep. The foundations of whatever keep you are in quake and the rumbling echoes go on and on for what seems to be hours. As they fade, however, you hear the clang of steel on steel, the war chants and battle cries, and the screams of the soon to be dead.
It sounds as if the Imperials are losing.
Even though you can barely make out the words, the war chants are in the orc tongue.
Idana wakes with a start, then turns her face up as if she could feel the rain even under this dry roof.
"Our captors are losing the fight." Idana closes her eyes and inhales, deeply. "The storm is here. We need to be ready to move."
Sigurd was enjoying a pleasant dream, a dream that brought him far away from this dark and dreary prison and back to his lost home with Smithhold. He ran through a memory of his home, training along with his father before he tried to play the game of politics and lost it all. It was a joyous time, a time when the name Warborn meant something.
The sound of Thunder brought him out of his unconscious state, the Barbarian stirring awake and the sound of battle all around him. He listened for a moment, sitting up as the sounds of combat rang through the air.
"Great...we don't get to burn to death, we get to be enslaved and murdered by orcs." He grumbles, seemingly more upset that he is chains and unable to fight than the fact that they'll try to murder him.
As the storm rose Elyana woke from her uncomfortable rest. She too caught the sounds outside, the cries of men dying, the sound of orcs at war, and nodded her agreement with Idana and Sigurd, "You're right sister, though maybe they'll listen to reason? We hate these Imperials as much as they do...right?"
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"Wait!"
Daerdryn found herself lunging against her chain as, halfway out of the dream, she dove for her benefactor. It didn't take long for her to pick up on what was going on. Idana was right, they needed to move. As far as she knew, she might be the only one able to get them past the bars.
A plan began to form. It was fueled by the fire of a dream's kindness and the thought that her children might be in the middle of whatever was going on in the keep. The only question was if she could take the pain.
"Sigurd, can you try to rip your chain out? If you use all your might, can you do it?"
There was a memory whispering in her ear. "I say let your troubles match the gift I have given you." It goaded her resolve for the next part of her plan. Her troubles were great, but so was her gift.
"If you can... I want you to come over here and break my hand so I can slip one of my bindings. I need my arms free to cast, but I only need one hand. I'll try to beat the ward on the shackle, but if I can, I will get everyone on the other side of these bars."
"Even stone breaks under the constant pressure of winter." Idana notes. "Olyenna, lend your strength to the effort. If our strongest all pull and struggle together weaknesses in the walls might come to light."
Hearing the chaos, and the screams of the dying Imperials, Olyenna nods to her sister. Her esteem for Daerdryn increases as the woman volunteers to have her arm broken to hep them escape."You shouldn't need to break it. Just dislocate it, the thumb may get the cuff off. Your hands seem like they might be slender enough." she says moving closer to aid Sigurd in his attempt to free the chain.
"Orcs," Kieran mutters shaking his head, "fighting our captors. So hard to decide who to root for."
Taking a deep breath he then lends his strength in their combined effort to escape their bonds.
Grabbing ahold of the chain, Olyenna pills with everything she has.
Before any of you make much headway in working yourselves free of your binds, two guards stumble into the passageway that you can see from your cell. They take up their spears and shout for you to cease your struggling as they rush forward, intending to skewer you where you stand.
But just as they make it to the cell door and unlock it, two shadows leap up behind them and with a flash of steel, slit the Imperials' throats.
"Well, as noble as it is to injury yourself to help you companions," one of them, the taller of the two, says in a melodic, yet masculine voice, "I think you may want to let us pick the locks instead."
The other, already moving into the cell nods as she begins to pick the locks on your chains.
"We were wondering if we'd be able get you out of here, but with the orcs raiding, we saw too good of an opportunity to pass up," the one freeing you from the chains adds in a similarly melodic voice, this one more feminine. Not much can be seen in the dim light, but, silhouetted against the torchlight, you can see their long, pointed ears. The ears of elves.
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Daerdryn shelves her concerns about these newcomers for the time being. Questions about their intentions, knowledge, or even why won't help at all at this point. Considering that she wouldn't have to dislocate or break anything made for a great motivator. Still, there was something that bothered her greatly.
"Why did the orcs attack? I've heard of war-bands striking in the past, but nothing that could cause this kind of commotion."
"Saved by elves, from Imperials, being attacked by orcs... you are right sister, the storm comes and the world turns in our favor." Olyenna says to Idana, peering through the darkness at their deliverers.
"Elves?" Kieran's voice and tone betray his surprise. "Well, I suppose you are certainly a much more welcome sight than those two guards with their spears, or the orcs laying siege to this place."
Finally able to stretch more properly, the man takes the opportunity to do just that. "Not that I am not grateful -I am- but who are you? What are you doing here? And in the middle of an orcish attack no less?"
Idana remains silent for the moment, listening and watching. Some storms turn to sleet. Some storms veer away. She needs to be sure which storm this is.
Sigurd chuckled as the sisters spoke of speaking to the orc tribes, a grim smile on his face. "They are not likely the tribes that frequent the Smithhold. Those ones have learned to treat us with respect and to use the fine weapons as trade. The others...take to the more classic ways." When Daerdryn asked him if he could break his chain, he looked back up towards the wall with a look of determination.
"I do not know, but I will try. I will not die like a chained dog, awaiting death!" And thus he began to pull hard on those chains again, feet pressing into the wall even as the Imperials came down the hallway intent on killing their captives. He let out a roar of defiance only to have it cut short when the Imperials' throats are slit. A grin comes upon his face as the elves muse about their predicament, a chuckle leaving him.
"The Gods provide, it seems. Free us then." He has his own worries about what the elves wish for but that can wait. For now though, survival was the most important thing right now. Once his chains were released, he would stand and rub at his wrists.
"It is good to be free. Is there more of your kin here? Has the armory been secured?" He missed the secure feeling of heavier armor upon his skin and the cool comfort of heavy steel within his hands. With nothing else, he'd pick up one of the longspears that the Imperials had and weigh it in his hand. "It'll do." He thought to himself, missing the sweet simplicity of his weapon of choice.
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Elyana was delighted and said, "You're right sister, the storm always comes through for us." When her turn came to be unshackled she sighed with relief at feeling the chains come free and reached out to seize her rescuer's head to pull her in and plant a firm kiss on the elven woman's lips. Releasing her Elyana said, "Thank you my heroin, I'm in your debt." Her tone implied the woman could get just about anything she wanted from Elyana as long as it was in her power to give.
You can make out some of the features of your rescuers, though not many since they've covered their faces below the nose with black scarves. They do appear to be brother and sister however.
Strangely, you can also see something different about Daerdryn, though it's hard to put your finger on just what it is.
"Dunno why they decided to attack, though there's a rumor that a new warchief has been gathering some of the tribes together," the male answers Daerdryn.
"As for us, we're just a brother and sister," the female adds, "he's Thol and I'm Aayeh. Our group had seen you being brought in and overhead that you were to be made examples of. We were working on a plan, but when the orcs attacked, we realized it was now or never."
"The others are securing the way out, so it's just the two of us," Thol tells all of you, "the armory though, is nicely unguarded. I'm sure you'll be able to find something useful there since we have to pass it to get out."
A few seconds later, all of you are free and making for the way out. The din of battle grows louder with each step. That is until two roars on the night wind drown out everything else and cause even the rampaging orcs to stop and look worriedly to the sky.
"That can't be good," Aayeh mutters.
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"Since you know about us, do you know about Captain Cevalius Lomar? Is he still here? Have you seen a brown-haired boy or a raven-haired girl with him? It's important..."
Whatever their answer she follows the elves, telling herself that everything will be fine. The roars though, they shake her confidence in that sentiment.
"It will be nice to have weapons in my hands again, but let us be quick about it. That sound promises that it will only get worse around here.", Olyenna says moving towards the front, occasionally looking back to make sure Elyana wasn't getting distracted.
A new warchief was never good news, even if they all got out of here alive. It meant more war with the orcs, at least business would still be good once he was free of this prison. Sigurd would rise and follow the elves out, only stopping for a moment when those roars echoed out from the storm.
"Never heard a roar like that before..." He murmured to himself, following the others through the prison. His hands longed for the comfort of a weapon's hilt and he was more than eager to exact some vengeance on the fools who thought they'd make an example of him.
Slightly annoyed at the lack of reaction to her kiss Elyana looked around and called out, "Cynthea, Dadelion, Syra, Manny, Elsbeth, Draco, Lyana, and Bob Are you guys there now that those icky cuffs are gone?" Turning towards the opening Elyana indicated she was ready to go, though she still seemed to be looking for her "ghost friends".
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With the shackles removed, Idana's magic returns. Her lightning eye flashes and winds whip around the room, as cold as any found in winter. For a moment, her fingers curl as if she might grab hold of the winds, tame them, and send them hurtling through the camp outside to kill all who live there.
The roars, however, bring any plans to direct new storms to a crashing halt. She pauses, then speaks to her sisters.
"We need to leave."
It was brief, the glimpse you caught. For one, crystal clear instant, you see two serpentine forms with large, bat-like wings and talons like a massive bird of prey. Their eyes glowed red for just an instant as you saw them look to the fort, to you, before looking for other prey.
Yep. You hear them.
"This way,"Thol says as he gestures to door that'd been knocked off its hinges as the fighting resumes, "we need to hurry."
As you file through the door then down the narrow passage, Aayeh answers Daerdryn's questions.
"He left several hours ago. I didn't see any children with him, but he said something about taking some 'Norden brats' to Everwatch," she says quickly.
Making your way through the shadows and clear passages, you wind your way through the labyrinthian fort. Or begin to when those terrifying roars ring out again, this time much closer. A mighty crash resounds as a terrible, serpentine beast lands heavily on the highest tower and bellows in a strange language. Another lands in the courtyard, killing a few orcs and Imperials before bellowing something else in the same language. Both orcs and Imperials turn to flee, only to draw the ire of the beasts. Flames, hot as a forgefire and blinding as the sun. The searing heat steals your breath and by the time you've recovered, the two nightmarish creatures have taken wing once more and are rampaging through the fort.
"Quickly! The door," Thol yells over the din and points to the door you had all been working your way towards.
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Hearing n answer to her call Elyana clapped her hands and said, "Yay! They're back." She followed their rescuers as they fled through the labrynthian fort when the great scaly beast landed. She knew there was no way that she was going to get across that safely since she wasn't the fastest or stealthiest person so she did the only thing she could. Seeing a dying orc nearby Elyana gestured to it and ripped the remaining life from the creature and then she knelt by the remains and touched them. Channeling the power of unlife into the corpse caused it to rise and she said to it, "Stay." She waited until one of the dragons went soaring past and barked the command to her zombified orc, "Run!" She pointed in the direction opposite the dragon's path and as soon as the zomborc took off she sprinted across the space to the door reaching it just as the other dragon swooped down and gobbled up her zombie only to promptly vomit him back up in a burst of flame. Snickering quietly the changeling woman ducked through the door quickly and waited for the others, leaning back against the wall and breathing heavily.
Stealth was not Sigurd's specialty, the sound of battle all around him made his blood boil. It called him to join in the battle, the bloodshed, but now was not the time. The time would come, the time would certainly come, but not yet.
When the massive creatures land upon the fortress, those terrible roars ringing out, Sigurd felt a pang of something he rarely felt. Fear. These were creatures he had never seen before and part of him was in awe and terrorized by their sheer existence. The flames steal his breath as he gazes upon the carnage they leave behind; seared bodies that are burned beyond recognition. Neither Orc nor Imperial was spared in the end, all was burned, and that surge of adrenaline ran through him.
"What a time to be alive..." Sigurd murmur, his attention focusing on that door across the way. It was a short distance but terribly far considering the battle raging around them.
Sigurd began to spring across the way, not hesitating any longer than needed. He had come to far to die among the nameless soldiers, to be forgotten so easily. Grabbing a dead man and using him as a shield, the torrent of flame that came from one of the great beasts charred his flesh and singed the beard of the barbarian but still he would not be stopped.
An orc came charging, screaming in a battlerage with a spear thrusting towards him. Grabbing the edge, the mighty warrior was pushed back against one of the carts that burned around them. There was a moment as the spear's point pushed closer towards his throat, eliciting a roar of defiance from Sigurd. Another stroke of luck came, as a series of arrows crashed into the orc's back, striking him down. Tossing the body to the side, Sigurd rushed that last bit of distance to make it towards the door.
"... I was not expecting that in the storm." Idana whispers, her usual calm shaken for a moment as she sees the twin creatures flying through the sky and igniting the air about them.
Seeing her sister raise the dead, however, brings her back to reality. The fire is the immediate issue.
Raising her hands, the daughter of winter calls to the Goddess of the Colds and draws forth from the north the winds of the arctic. She weaves them about her, the way an old woman might weave a sweater. Idana claps her hands and the winds rush forth, blowing through the fire and igniting it to burn hotter and brighter but to bend out of their path.
The rest of the structure will burn, but the group will have a clear path.
"Come sisters." Idana says, walking forward with grim determination towards the door.
The sight of the mighty beasts was.....overwhelming, leaving Olyenna standing in place for a moment. As she watches her sisters embrace their magic, she smiles, the safety and confidence of being together amidst this chaos, invigorating. They were the magic against magic, she was the steel against steel. Together they were unstoppable.
Even as Elyana made it to the door, screened by her orc puppet, she watches as Idana begins to walk through the fire and flames, snow and wind at her command, snuffing out the fire.
She began to run then, a run across the courtyard that was a thing of beauty to behold. Vaulting over a pile of bodies she bolts across the open space launching into a diving roll as the line of fire liquifies the ground behind her, coming up at a dead run to blow past a confused imperial soldier. Dropping into a slide, she passes under a burning cart, her claws hamstringing an orc soldier on the other side of it just as he was aiming at Idana.
Goal in sight she literally runs up the back of a doubled over orc, seconds before a spear punched through it's back, her momentum taking her into a flip over the imperial responsible to land a few feet from the door, turning to wait as her older sister waltzes across the courtyard like the queen of winter herself out for an evening stroll.
She couldn't help the grin that curled at her lips.
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The sight stole Daerdryn's breath. Death personified rode the skies of Nordholm. Aayeh's answer gives her hope, ease of mind, and a goal, but those things are nearly dashed as the two serpents descend to cull the fort. There's no time for words as she rushed for the door.
As she moves her hand reaches out a trails her hand along something out of sight, immaterial, but too firm not to be real. Arcs travel along the ground and gather dirt in their wake. They form a swirling spike around a core of light that fits easily into her hand.
Unfortunately, had she been paying more attention she would have noticed the Imperial soldier coming up behind her. His mailed fist landed on her shoulder and heaved her back like she weighed nothing. In that moment all she had was instinct as she whirled on him and sunk her new blade into his chest. The momentum sent them both crashing to the ground. As she crawled away the soldier's hand snaked around her neck while the other, dagger in hand, knocked her blade away and back into detritus.
His dagger rose for a killing blow and Daerdryn flung her arm back towards safety, towards her new friends. Her fingers grazed something solid again. There was thunder and lightning. A moment later she crashed into the door and scrambled for the relative safety. She spared a look back only to see a clawed limb part the flames and spear the man retreating back behind the searing curtain.
There is a soft sigh followed by a deep breath as Kieran lays eyes on the chaos and carnage unfolding before him. It takes a moment of hesitation -it is not like he has seen such beasts before after all- and then, just as the others spring into action, so does he.
The door is not far and sneaking about means it will take him more time to reach it, risking that a stray arrow or some blood-crazed orc finds him while he tries to hide behind some wagon or other. So he sprints. He is almost one third of the way there when out of the corner of his eye he sees the point of a spear, an Imperial at its other end. Without missing a beat he slides and ducks under it, the spearhead almost grazing him, and then quickly rises, turning and grabbing the spear shaft and pulling the other man into the dirt, all in one fluid motion.
"Sorry," he mutters as he resumes his running. 'Almost there,' he ponders and the distraction almost costs him his life. It is not entirely his fault though. Wagons do not usually drop from the sky. Still his quick reflexes save him once more as he rolls away from under it right before it crushes on the ground.
And then finally he is at the door. "Exciting."
Aayeh and Thol dance through the carnage and mayhem, dodging both orcish blades and Imperial spears as they rush for the door. One unfortunate soldier is crushed by another wagon just as he gets set to put an arrow in Thol's back. A couple of orcs moving to block the path of the pair are swept up in the fanged maw of one of the beasts and the elves are forced to duck to avoid the wings and talons as it races past. They tumble through the door before closing and barring it.
"Down the stairs," Thol tells you as be begins to lead the way. Aayeh takes up a rear guard and follows the last of you down.
As you reach the bottom, a deafening crash and a blinding cloud of dust comes from above. As the trembling ceases, it's clear to see in the dim torch light that the stairs are blocked, and you only have one way forward.
"Well, it seems that we only have one way to go now," Aayeh observes before dusting herself off.
"Right the armory is this way," Thol adds as he gestures down the passage.
A few moments you arrive at an unlocked and unguarded room full of weapons and armor. A storeroom across the passage is also open, filled with mundane supplies and clothing.
The Armory contains masterwork versions of the following weapons and armor:
-Spear
-Longspear
-Dagger
-Light mace
-Heavy mace
-Quarterstaff
-Longbow
-gladius
-longsword
-greatsword
-Leather
-Studded Leather
-Chain shirt
-Chain mail
-light wooden shield
-heavy wooden shield
as well as arrows by the score.
The storeroom contains the following:
-Explorer's outfits (made in the style favored by Norden men)
-masterwork backpacks
-bedrolls
-winter blankets
-furs
-cold weather gear
-medium tents
-cooking kits
-lantern oil
-lanterns
-torches
-trail rations
-wineskins full of wine (5 gp, 4lbs)
-Empty waterskins (2 lbs)
Elyana was relieved when everyone made it through safely and even more so when they successfully got down far enough to avoid the collapsing stairway, "Well, that was close. Is everyone safe?". As they entered the storeroom she began to promptly gather together what she needed, some cold weather gear and a pack were the first things she grabbed, followed by some rations, a waterskin, and a bedroll. Sadly she didn't see the weapon she was looking for, not that she used one often, she pouted a bit but kept looking for a whip.
In a corner, hidden under a pile of empty sacks, Elyana can just see the handle of a whip.
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"While we search for supplies, elf, tell us a tale. Perhaps the one about why you are bothering to help us escape from the Imperial witchhunters in the middle of an attack by orcs and winged monsters." Idana says as she begins picking out supplies for both her and Elyana.
Sigurd would take a moment to breathe, exhaling the burning ash that had singed his lungs. His eyes searched the armory and immediately, the massive sword upon the wall called his attention. Grabbing it and lifting it with ease, there were a few quick strokes with masterful precision before he nodded.
"Not bad...for an Imperial blade." He murmured, grabbing a dagger as well and slipping it into his belt. A longbow was next upon his list before he went and grabbed a quiver and arrows.
The next one his list was proper protection. The chainmail was the next upon his form, covering the exposed muscles with the protective covering of metal.
"I agree with Idana, that would be a nice tale to hear." Sigurd murmured as he gathered a pack together to escape this dangerous place.
As they entered the storeroom she began to promptly gather together what she needed, some cold weather gear and a pack were the first things she grabbed, followed by some rations, a waterskin, and a bedroll.
Or at least that's what she would have done if she hadn't been scrounging for her favorite weapon, a whip. Fortunately she finally found one, tucked in a corner under some sacks. She looked at the whip and picked it up gently as she said, "See Elsbeth? I told you there had to be a whip in here, it's a prison after all." She gently stroked the whip as she said, "There, there little whip, you're safe with Ely now. I'll take good care of you." It was then that Idana brought her sister the gear she would need and Elyana looked up to see who approached.
Seeing Idana with stuff for her, Elyana clapped her hands in delight and said, "Look Idana, I found a lonely, forgotten whip!" She showed it off proudly before wrapping it around her waist. Looking at the stuff that Idana had brought her she said, "Oh, thank you sister! I wouldn't have thought of those." She indicated the floor for most of the stuff, her pack already put together for her, and took the traveler's clothing. She lay her whip atop her pack and then reached down to grab the hem of the prison garb. She quickly pulled it up over her head leaving her naked as the day she was born and not seeming to care there were strangers there, then promptly began to put the travel clothing on. When she was dressed once more she wrapped the whip around her waist like a belt and hefted her pack to her shoulder before promptly throwing her arms around Idana in a hug, "What would I do without you sister?" Letting go she turned to the others and asked cheerfully, "Are we ready?"
"Hmm..."
Moving about the room Kieran examines the various weapons and suits of armor. With a smile he settles on a sturdy and well-made wooden staff, while he also picks up a dagger and its accompanying sheath.
"These should do nicely," he says to the others before moving on to the clothing and gear, picking from them what he believes will be of use. "Do not forget the wineskins. They can prove useful in the cold weather."
"Sister..." Idana sighs. She motions and a cool fog rises up to cover the room, obscuring sight.
"Ladies, you can change without worry now." Idana says before she removes the tatters left to her by the Imperials and changes into her new explorer's outfit.
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Thankful for the privacyof the fog, Daerdryn changed as well. Her new white cotton tunic gained both a vest and chainshirt with tan pants and a blue cloak to top it all off. It all fit rater well, considering they were borrowed. The only problems were her new boots. Both were a size too large, but she'd have to make due, beggars couldn't be choosers.
Afterward she hefted her pack. It was heavy, much heavier than she was expecting. Being light on her feet was important, but there was no way she could part with the things inside. She already felt a little under-prepared with what she had grabbed.
"I think I'd like to hear it too..."
Her voice trailed off as she caught a glimpse of herself in the reflection of a wooden shield. Suddenly she didn't care too much about the reasons why the elves saved them. A single shock of white hair spilled from her brow, distinct from the prevalent blonde strands. He face too, it was still hers and looked just as tired as she felt. Yet, she hadn't seen this particular cast of it in ten years. All she could do was stare as a younger Daerdryn stared back.
As Elyana stripped nude, Sigurd cast a glance over but in fact seemed to be bothered little by it. She was a beautiful woman, dangerously so with the sisters she kept company with. He only watched for a moment before continuing to undress, the tattoos upon his form being laid bare for all to see. He was massive, even by the standards of the Norden, and appeared to be a man in his prime now that he was out of the dim light of the prison cells. The soot, dirt, and grime seemed almost to compliment his form rather than take away from it.
There was almost a chuckle as the fog began to fill the room, the barbarian stopping what he was doing. Just because the elves had rescued them didn't mean they were really here to save them, it didn't mean the Imperials couldn't come in from another way. It was only when he heard the ringing of armor being donned that he continued dressing, no longer the naked man with the large sword.
He looked more comfortable in the heavy chainmail than he did out of it, the helmet and shields left alone. He didn't wish to be confused for their number and wished for a more traditional helmet of his own kind. Yet he could not deny the lighter make of the chainmail, the smith in him appreciating the skill it took to make it.
Olyenna grins as she sees the array of weaponry available. This was far better, now she'd be well equipped enough to keep her sisters safe. As Elyana simply discards her clothes, Olyenna chuckles lightly as Idana sighs. She couldn't help remembering their father being called to the schoolhouse when they were younger, because Ely had been caught lifting her dress for some of the boys in exchange for cookies. Which in turn reminded her of the beating she'd given them after father had explained why it was wrong, and why she and Ida needed to protect their sister from people who'd take advantage of her nature.
Flashing her older sister a grin of both amusement and thanks, she strips off the tattered rags, grabbing one of the outfits in shaded of black and grey, and pulling on a set of studded leather armor over it. The fact that the outfits seemed sized for the average man worked in her favor, as the boots fit rather well, though she opted to skip the gloves in case she should need to use her claws at any point.
Moving over to the weapons racks, she selects one of the stylized shotswords, a gladius. She remembered father showing her how it was weighted a little differently for the way one would strike with it. Belting the sheath arpound her waist, she adds a light mace to the other side after checking it's heft, then grabs a longbow, slipping a quiver of arrows over her back, over the heavy black cloak. "I'd be lying if I said that I wasn't curious as well."