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Re: The Lands of Old (RP)
January 28, 2014 09:30PM
“I did not watch. he stated. That mollified her somewhat, but it was still embarassing. She nodded in thanks and he moved toward the door, opening it for her. “We should go.”

Taking a deep steadying breath, she moved to step out into the light of the day. The doorway wasn’t wide enough for two people and she had to press against him to ease her way out. What she was NOT expecting was the surge of lust that went through her as their bodies brushed together. She bit back a moan by sheer willpower alone as she quickly moved away from him. She didn’t dare look him in the eye, instead she proceeded him down the path to their (well hers now that she thought about it) father’s hut, in the center of the village.

She ignored the younger warriors who eyed her striding figure. She was done with overeager possessive men and it would be a cold day in Valhalla before she let another man get that close to her again. She gave them her fiercest glare, causing a few of them to turn tail and run. It was no secret in their village that Eyyrs despised men on general principals…and now she had even more reason to loathe the species.

Except for Valkrik.

There was something about him…

Re: The Lands of Old (RP)
January 29, 2014 06:21AM
The Shackled Inn

Honrick roared with laughter at Natsiya’s quip that his daughter would be highly prized among the Vollan. Her description for the men folk had him in stitches, and he near spit out his beer, when Natsiya said that most men would wet their breeches as soon as look at her wolves. She added of course, that Ghar men were the stellar example of what men should be like in her view. The more she spoke, the more the Chieftain agreed. It was not often a woman held Honrick’s attention so, and this put a few ideas into his mind.

“Have you been introduced to my son Valkrik? He is a fierce fighter, and I dare say he would be able to sire very strong young.”

Was he trying to marry Valkrik off? That would surely not go over well. Maybe he should stick to trying to find a man for Eyyrs, though he doubted many feared her, especially with her treatment of her own brother. You’d think the girl hated her brother, the way she always tormented him about not going to sea. Honrick eased back in his chair, sipping his ale, and waited to see what Natsiya would say.

Village square near the Shackled Inn


Walking back together from Eyyrs’s house, Valkrik kept a stony looking appearance while he had his sister by his side. Word of the whereabouts of Eyyrs’s Quartermaster was had not yet spread, so it seemed for the moment he wasn’t missed, but that was sure to change soon. People had gathered at the Shackled inn and quite a crowd as well. High chances were that the Chieftain was drinking there. Thinking this the case, he said unto Eyyrs.

“Father is in the Shackled inn, by the looks of things. We should go in together.” he said firmly, not really giving her a chance to reply. Marching on ahead, women parting the way as he walked through and reached the door. He pulled open the door forcefully, and entered the smokey inn, only to see his father in talks with a maiden who wore clothes like those of the mountain people. Vollan perhaps. Honrick had been keeping tabs on the doors, and so when he saw his son enter first, he tried to wave him over.

“Son…this darling creature was just asking about you. Why not sit here and join us for ale.”


Re: The Lands of Old (RP)
January 29, 2014 11:13PM
“We should go in.” Valkrik spoke as they reached the doorway to the Inn. Eyyrs could hear her father’s deep laughter from within and took a deep breath.

“I’m ready.” she nodded. He yanked open the door and she followed him inside, walking behind his large frame as he parted the crowd easily.


Over his shoulder she could see her father speaking cheerfully with one of the women, the Vollan leader from the looks of it. He spotted Valkrik first, not seeming to notice that Eyyrs was behind him.

“Son…this darling creature was just asking about you. Why not sit here and join us for ale.”

At that, Eyyrs frowned fiercely, wondering what their father was up to. She couldn’t help but feel a little protective of Valkrik after what she found out about him.

“Or maybe you’re a bit possessive because you’re lusting after him.” a voice cropped up in her mind. She punched that voice in the face, mentally stabbing it with her sword before burying it out to sea. Valkrik was not hers to claim. He was raised as her brother for Odin’s sake!

But it didn’t stop her mind from picturing him naked and laying among her furs. What the hell was wrong with her?


Snarling, more angry with herself and the situation she suddenly found herself in, she turned on her heel and left the Inn. She couldn’t be around him one more second or she would end up doing something foolish. She went to her stable where Vor greeted her with a flicker of ears. She quickly climbed onto his back and kicked him into a gallop, making for the path to the Bluffs of Vanir for a quiet moment of reflection.


Re: The Lands of Old (RP)
January 30, 2014 09:08PM
The Shackled Inn

-Natsiya shared in laughter with Honrick. Not all the men they encountered pissed there pants when they saw the giant wolves, but it was more then it should have been. But it was a hilarious thought. He had her attention that was sure, she needed to bring up the issue now, if it was a good chance as any, and if the people in the Inn over heard well, so be it, the more the merrier perhaps some might even help the pack free lance if the chief wasn’t very interested.

They grew silent for a moment as Natsiya thought how to approach the subject and she opened her mouth to speak, Honrick beat her to the punch, “Have you been introduced to my son Valkrik? He is a fierce fighter, and I dare say he would be able to sire very strong young.”

Natsiya blinked and chuckled shaking her head, “nay, not that I can recall Honrick, and I’m sure your boy could quite possibly sire strong young, but Vollan women like there men submissive” she said, mostly sounding plight considering the fact that the human male couldn’t sir young with a Vollan female even if he fucked every female in the pack till his balls fell off, well, that is if that was what Honrick was implying.

Now it was her turn to speak, “Honrick, I sought you out because Vollan has a problem, it’s a pack of werewolves…”she managed to tell him, and suddenly that conversation ended fairly quickly as Honrick smiled and waved down someone who had just entered the Inn.

“Son…this darling creature was just asking about you. Why not sit here and join us for ale.” 

Natsiya turned on her bar stool and looked up at the man he was implying to, her nostrils flared in-taking the scent of the room, she caught a hint of blood, but it was gone as quickly as she picked it up, washed away by the smell of alcohol. For a moment her ice blue eyes narrowed slightly, the primal side of her showing, before the human facade returned.

Now she saw the man, and a different primal side of her reared it’s ugly head, the man was as large as a Vollan male, but he wasn’t in any way a submissive like them, he would have been, in best comparison, the son of an Alpha Bitch. She stared at a side of her urging her to challenge him right there in the Inn, where that came from she wouldn’t ask, instead she cracked a half smile and nodded her head a little, her snow white hair falling forward just a little bit into her face before looking up at him again.-

Re: The Lands of Old (RP)
February 01, 2014 08:15PM
The Shackled Inn

Valkrik was more than aware, that his sister had taken her leave, probably due to the fact she had totally been disregarded by her Father, as he set about trying to get Valkrik to meet his drinking companion. A Vallan of all things. Valkrik, looked over his shoulder to see Eyyrs leave, and grumbled under his breath, before turning his attentions back to the white haired maiden, that was really only showing him vague interest. Valkrik wasn’t interested. Not remotely. He just had heard such tales of how the Vollan women were dominant in their society and preferred their men to be….well submissive. Valkrick was anything but. If he was going to take a woman, he wanted to be on top…literally.

Taking up a mug of ale, all he did was grunt towards the female, then turned his attention back to his Father.


“We were to go to your brother’s house…to prepare for the final voyage.” Valkrik said sternly, before glancing back at the white haired woman. She had spoken to Honrick about her problem with a pack of were wolves. Supernaturals. Valkrik took a large swig of his ale and slammed down the tankard, before belching loudly.

“We are Ghar. Vikings of the North. Why we go after werewolves…when they do not attack this settlement?”

Honrick frowned. It seemed like Valkrik was not wanting to help the Vollan, who were trade partners of the Ghar for many years.

“Because, it is part of our treaty.”

“Bah. I wait outside.” Valkrik pushed back his chair, and then thundered out of the Inn, leaving many whispering as to his demeanor. Honrick looked to where he had gone, and sighed.

“My son and his men, have just returned from a voyage and war on the southern lands. He is probably tired. Needs to rut!” He said with some confidence. The Chief then asked Natsiya. “What do you need from us?”


Re: The Lands of Old (RP)
February 02, 2014 11:08PM
Bluffs of Vanir


The Bluffs of Vanir were a beautiful yet peaceful place. Eyyrs often came when she needed to be alone and think. No one bothered her and although most knew of the place, they understood it was her private place and didn’t intrude upon her.

Climbing from Vor, she let him wander to graze as she made her way to the small stream that was traveling through the landscape. With a sigh, she sat down, staring out at the water, her chin resting upon her knees.

It had not been the best of days for her.

Valkrik coming home, and that thing with Soren, then finding out about Valkrik’s true origins and her sudden attraction to him…

“Why can’t my life be easy?” she sighed, pressing her head to her knees.

She climbed to her feet, slipping off her boots and setting them aside. Gathering up her skirts, she pulled them to her thighs and stepped into the stream, walking along the shoreline and chuckling when small fish grew too curious for their own good and nibbled at her toes.

The afternoon sun shone down upon her and in that moment of solitude, she was simply a woman enjoying her time alone, keeping thoughts of Valkrik from her mind.

Re: The Lands of Old (RP)
February 02, 2014 11:30PM
The Bluffs of Vanir

Yes, no one with a brain bothered Eyyrs when she was in her special place, but that did not mean that others would find their way there, some had even claimed this spot for its spiritual significance long before Eyyrs was born. One such woman, was the Angel of Death. She had a name of course, but over the years, many had simply forgotten it. Oddly enough, the shaman did not age. One would expect that since she had been with the clan over two hundred years, that she should be pushing up flowers, but not this woman. With vibrant flowing red hair, and wearing the most scantily clad kit you had dared see on a woman, she was a sight to behold. Perfect rounded breasts, and an ass where many a Ghar male would have loved to have prodded her, but she also frightened many with her secretive ways, and the Chief had the highest respect for her. Able to speak of prophesies that came into fruition. There was no mistaking that this day….another had come to pass.

And so Eyyrs remained completely unaware that she was being watched.


“Heh….so daughter of Honrick, waking dreams are of a man you….simply can’t have.”

She walked into the clearing, carrying a large staff and tilted her head as she planted the tip of the staff into the grass. “So powerful you think you are. Men fall for you, like the petals fall from the blossoms, and yet…he is out of your reach.”

The Angel of Death teased Eyyrs and then took out a bag of bones, shaking them in her direction.


Her hand finally stopped shaking, and the eyes of the Angel of Death turned the deepest shade of green. She cast her gaze down at the water, and there she saw a bright red fish. Gasping, she looked at Eyyrs again and sneered. “So…blood was spilt and all for you. He is indeed powerful, but his emotional feelings for you….will bring him undone.”

She was speaking of course about Valkrik, and was not about to let up. She used her staff to capture the fish, striking it true with the pointed end. She stared at the fish, as it open and closed it’s mouth desperately to be put back in the sea.

“A horseman, cannot ride to be with Odin….unless he is given the proper rites.”

It was clear, the fish was a symbol of the death of the Quarter Master in the waters high above where they were now. The Shaman then softened her face, as she tossed the fish back into the watery pool.

“Find a simple man…have many babies…be happy. No good can come from you laying with HIM!” She warned, again shaking the bones at her violently.


Re: The Lands of Old (RP)
February 03, 2014 05:04PM
The Village Square

Elves weren’t exactly the most discreet folk when about in other lands. Especially Sindarin, or Wood-elves. With long white hair and observant blue eyes, they attracted even more attention than the Silvan elves with only pointed ears and perfect complexion to show for their longevity. (Though, most elves do have long hair.) Ernil, our brave young warrior of only four hundred and nine, was seeking the Chief of Ghar. Of course, Ernil had never seen anything other than an Elf until now. With lots of humans around him, it was hard to say any looked Chiefly. Most of them just looked… boring. Of course, his only comparison were his own, vastly majestic people, and these Men were not exactly kings of their kind. He stopped in the middle of the square, gazing around, hoping to see someone wearing a crown or something, so he could be done with this task. He’d not wanted to leave the walls, but his Queen had insisted. She’d been looking frantically for her children and King, and hadn’t even taken the time to be kind about her request. He knew that he had to do it then, because she was so worried. While he stood there, lost in his thoughts of how horribly he loved the royal family, Ernil didn’t notice a few prostitutes begin to make their way towards him, nor did he notice the sailors on his other side take note of that and draw up their sleeves as they too walked toward the poor Elf-ling like moths to a light.

Re: The Lands of Old (RP)
February 03, 2014 08:58PM
-The man sat with her and Honrick taking a tankard of ale for himself as well taking a large swig. He had responded to her with little more then a grunt, she arched her eyebrows surprised at his response, considering her clan was a ally and you would think he would treat a ally with more respect.

She stared at him openly and it dawned on her that she had met this man, a long time ago, when she was still a pup riding on her mothers lap into the village to make trade. This was a long time ago, when her mother was still alive, and still Vollan’s Alpha. She didn’t recall really liking him then either, he really was an alpha male, and even as a child, she wanted to challenge him for his dominance, it was her nature.

Mentally shaking her head she didn’t want THAT side of her coming to the surface, the wolf that she could turn into with a blink of the eye.

“We were to go to your brother’s house…to prepare for the final voyage.” Valkirck said drawing her attention back to reality, she realized they were having a conversion with out her.

Natsiya glanced at Honrick, “i did not know there was a death, My apologies to your loss,” she said bowing her head momentarily.

That was when he had so rudely belched in her direction, don’t get her wrong she has had her fair share of disgusting males, and she herself has let one rip, but at least she was decent enough to turn her head.

“We are Ghar. Vikings of the North. Why we go after werewolves…when they do not attack this settlement?”

Natsiya was suprised at is statement and her mouth fell opened just a little. his father was frowning, now that was offedning, and in her opinion she should be allowed to smack him a few times. But she was better then that, she snapped her mouth shut and narrowed her gaze at him.

“Because, it is part of our treaty.” his father responded and to make sure the point got across Natsiya finally spoke to the man,“These ‘werewolves’ haven’t attacked your settlement because they have to cross Vollan territory to get to it…” she spoke up but he didn’t even let her finish as he got up saying he would go wait outside, today was just interupt Natsiya day wasn’t it.

“My son and his men, have just returned from a voyage and war on the southern lands. He is probably tired. Needs to rut!” He said with some confidence. The Chief then asked her “What do you need from us?” 

Natsiya glaring at his retreating back she spoke, “well….as I was saying…they out number Vollan, and are willing to fight us for our territory….then will make there way here, and That is not the worse of it…they are breeding with the Cursed Ones, werewolves that started out human.” she said and made a grim face, “an attack from them, and a human will lose there mine to the wolf the first full moon,” she said.

“for now, until we know more what we are fighting, all I can ask of Ghar is to provide Vollan with some weapons, preferably some with silver in it, if you can provide it, Vollan men have been going into mountain caves this past winter trying to find a silver vein, but we’ve had no success yet, if you can get these iteams for me…I give you this entire seasons stock of hunting wolves, of course accept those that we need to continue the breeding line,” she said.

“I will not ask Ghar to fight in this battle, I do not wish your people to be…harmed by this….curses and all, they have only challenged my Clan for now,” she added looking at Honrick with sincerity. –

Re: The Lands of Old (RP)
February 03, 2014 11:02PM
Eyyrs was startled from her musings by the village Shaman – a woman who was treated with more respect then herself.

“Greetings, Honored One. How fair you this day?” Eyyrs greeted.

“Heh….so daughter of Honrick, waking dreams are of a man you….simply can’t have.”

That stopped Eyyrs in her tracks. It was said that the Shaman woman had ways to know things that others didn’t and Eyyrs was seriously worried.

“So powerful you think you are. Men fall for you, like the petals fall from the blossoms, and yet…he is out of your reach.”

She shook her bag of bones at the young woman. “THE BONES DON’T LIE!”

She made several more readings there by the stream, frightening Eyyrs into a stunned silence. She gave Eyyrs one last piece of advice.

“Find a simple man…have many babies…be happy. No good can come from you laying with HIM!” she warned before disappearing as silently as she came.

Eyyrs stood trembling in place for a long moment. The Shaman woman was correct. She needed to forget every feeling of attraction she held for Valkrik. And to do that…

“I must leave the village.” she mumbled to herself. “I cannot stay, seeing him every waking moment of the day and not want to be with him. Yes…I will leave tonight, under the cover of darkness. No one need to know.” she nodded to herself, determined to follow through with her plan. Calling for Vor, she headed back to her home to begin packing a few of her belongings.

It would be dangerous for her, a single woman out in the wilds alone and she would miss her mother and father…but the risks far outweight the consequences if she were to stay.