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Re: The Lands of Old (RP)
February 25, 2014 02:40PM
The Council Hall 

The Valkyries left eyebrow rose silently while she listened to the viking warrior speak his piece before offering a predatory smile. Valkrik of Ghar Odin himself sent me to watch over you and guide you…I know of your deeds and the friends you have lost. Worry not Valkrik of Ghar….You’ll be safe in my care…” Just then the Valkyrie reached up and took her helmet from her head allowing raven colored tresses to cascade down her back before she reached back and fluffed her hair to straighten it out. “Ah…that feels so much better…” Her eyes then darted to each of the corner’s of the room and openings though as he gaze fell upon each location the crowds scattered into the winds for fear of reprisal from the Valkyrie. Slowly almost painfully so the Valkyrie began to stand before her hips started to sway to and fro while she sang a song of old. ( [www.youtube.com] ) Her voice was one few living people had ever heard for it was a song the Valkyries sang when they descended upon the dead and dying to guide them to the afterlife and the great halls of Asgard. It was clear that the Valkyrie was singing because she felt the need to and not for enjoyment. Luna’s voice was a soft almost whimsical tone that held a hint of great sadness that the Valkyries bore with them as they moved through the battlefields choosing the strongest of the slain and dying to take to the Great Halls. Then almost as soon as she had begun to sing she would stop and look over her shoulder at Valkrik before offering a half smile. Her eyes where a soft cerulean color as they locked with Valkrik’s own eyes in a gaze one would call curious and exploratory as she let her gaze wander Valkrik’s form. Oh she was definitely acting coy and playful as her wings ruffled slightly in a gesture of restlessness.

Re: The Lands of Old (RP)
February 26, 2014 05:16AM
The Council Hall

In the past few days, Valkrik had gone through what many would not in a lifetime. No sooner back from his voyage to the south lands which brought back not only slaves and weapons, but items that were to be used as trade – grain and wine. He had news of his Uncle’s passing, then of course saving his sister from the clutch’s of the Quartermaster, whose body now lay at the bottom of an unnamed river. Valkrik also came to discover a terrible secret – one kept from him since his birth. What he had hated for all his years, was what he truly was. Though holding up a facade of calm, internally he had been struggling to deal with this new found power.

Now…now he had before him one of Odin’s own. A Valkyrie no less, who had proclaimed that she had been sent by Odin himself, to watch over and guide him on his path in life. Luna also claimed to know about his loss, and his deeds. Really? Only time would tell just how much she truly knew.

Watching on with steel blue eyes, the Valkyrie removed her helm, to reveal a shock of raven colored hair that flowed down off her shoulders and to rest upon her upper back. She moved almost fluidly, and was the epitome of what a woman was to be. Full figured and ripe, but she was also an immortal. Clutching his mug of ale, Valkrik watched on silently, as she rose from her seat, and then started to dance. A ritualistic swaying of her hips, her hands becoming instruments on which to tell the tale, as the song she sung was one of old. In fact it was heart breaking to hear, and many outside the Council hall were moved to shed tears.

But how is it, when she glanced over her shoulder, offering Valkrik a half smile and yet being coy when singing such a song. It seemed a tad off. She must have found favor with his form. Again this was unusual for one that was to be a guardian, to look upon the Viking as though he was prey…prey to lust.

At the song’s end, Valkrik drank the last of his ale and set down the mug, before clapping his hands together slowly. Loudly. It echoed through the very hall. Valkrik rose from his seat and approached Luna, stopping just shy of her, before reaching out and stroking one of her wings.

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“What kind of man would I be, to not heed the word of Odin. If this is true. If he did send you to protect me….I shan’t stop it.” He then bent his head to whisper in her ear. “You’re in for one hell of a ride, Valkyrie of Odin. Think you can keep up?’ With that he started for the door.

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Re: The Lands of Old (RP)
February 26, 2014 06:18PM
Council Hall 

The stroke of Valkrik’s hand upon her wing caused a subtle shiver to race through her spine. Oh how sensitive her wings where to the slightest of touch’s. The viking warrior then leaned in enough to whisper into her ear briefly causing a second subtle shiver to run through her spine as his warm breath caressed he ear. As the viking warrior turned to go Luna would hiss to herself while snatching her helmet off the table and replacing it upon her head after tucking her raven tresses back under it. Slowly she strode after him with her wings ruffling slightly. “Bad Luna….No lusting…” As she followed Valkrik where ever he may go her eyes would silently rove left and right watching the townsfolk warily before she folded her wings about her self consciously. Oh how she loathed the lusting stares of the men watching her follow Valkrik like a love sick puppy. Luna would continue to follow Valkrik in complete silence while keeping her wings wrapped about her in an effort to conceal herself from the lusting glares. Luna was one of odin’s Valkyries yes but she was easily mislead when in the human world of Midgard for she had little knowledge of it. The reason being she had such little knowledge of Midgard was that she preferred to stay in the realm of Asgard and attend to her training when she was but a youngling. Perhaps that was why Odin’s trust fell upon her more often then not rather then other Valkyries of the same rank. It was also said that Luna had been rather distant and harsh but it remained unproven though Odin knew the truth behind her built up walls. Would Valkrik be the one to open her up and get her to speak? or would she turn cold and distant towards him as well? Only time would tell such a fact.

Re: The Lands of Old (RP)
February 26, 2014 09:19PM
Lockes of Otkatla

It hadn’t taken Eyyrs long to pack up her belongings and sneak away under the cover of night. She had spotted Valkrik chatting with a mysterious woman outside the inn but didn’t see the need to tell him she was leaving. He would be better off without her around, and this way no one would be able to hear his secrets from her lips.

She rode some distance away from the village deep into the mountains and paused partway up to glance back at what once was her home.

“May Odin protect you all.” she whispered as she slowly turned Vor away, turning her back on everything and everyone she loved.

She rode for two full days and nights before she found herself at the Lockes of Otkatla, where she made camp for the evening. She let Vor roam free to eat and forage for himself as she set up her tent and hunting supplies. Luckily she was near a stream, which allowed her to hunt for fish for her supper. She looked around as she ate and decided this would be a perfect home for her.

It would be a lonely existence for sure…but here she was safe from all temptations.

Re: The Lands of Old (RP)
February 28, 2014 05:34PM
Stargorn Bluff – Home of Tebas

The Valkryin may well follow the Viking as he made his way through the village. He remembered the fact that on his return, news had been given to him by his father that Uncle Tebas had died during a hunt. Council law requires for certain measures to be taken so that one of noble line, can go on to meet with and sit with Odin. Looking back at Luna, he said.

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“I have put this off long enough. My father was to take me to his brother’s home, but seems he is still dealing with the Elf messenger.” His voice lost near all emotion, as he took the path that lead to his Uncle’s dwelling. Outside there was already a gathering of his women; slaves for the most part. One was his long suffering wife, who was grief stricken and in a terrible mood. Seeing the approach of the Viking and the Valkryin, she was sure this was a sign, and ran out to meet Valkrik. Reaching the path she sank to her knees, holding up her hands in some way of offering, but Valkrik would have none of it.

“On your feet, Hesta. I am not here for you.” He spoke truth, for the one that would ride the boat with Tebas to Odin would be a woman that gave herself willingly to make the journey. A few elders from the council had seen Valkrik got up the path to the House of Tebas, and they too followed behind, as the slave girls all fell in line. Their heads bowed in reverence as Valkrik took on the role of managing the last rites of his deceased uncle. Tebas was buried in a shallow grave, for now just by his house, as a temporary measure until Valkrik had returned. He had been in the ground long enough.

Walking along the line of slave girls, he looked at each before coming to stop at the end of the line.

“Your Master wishes for one of you to join him in his final voyage. Whoever steps forward will be blessed by Odin himself, and treated to the joys of love from his fellows. She will lay with all the mighty warriors of the village, before the voyage and this is decreed by our Father Honrick. This is a great honor. Which of you chooses to follow the Master to Odin?’

The girls all looked at each other, before a flame haired girl stepped forward. Her name; Anaka. She adored Tebas and admired him as a warrior and the Chieftan’s brother. She lifted her head proudly, as the drums began to beat in time to that of a human heart.

“Anaka…you will begin preparations and your sisters dress you for the final night.”

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The other girls all congratulated Anaka for being the chosen, while in the background, Tebas’s wife held his helmet close to her chest. She was not young, and knew what this meant. The girl was going to die, though she did not realize it.

Two men came forward, and went to dig up the body of Tebas, to prepare him for his voyage, while up the path near the water’s edge, the Shaman was already making her way to Tebas’s ship. She had in her basket the items needed to prepare his body for the boat, as well as the bed, that had already been carried down from Tebas’s house and placed aboard the vessel.

Moving up the gang plank, she reached the bed, and spread over it a fine cloth of gold. It was tucked in underneath and the Shaman spoke in a strange dialect as if letting Odin know of the coming of Tebas and Anaka. She had performed this rite many times before, and it always meant the sacrifice of one to join the dead into the afterlife.

Valkrik’s role for now was complete. That night, Anaka would go from home to home of each of the mighty warriors of the village, and lay with them. The warriors would say on completion of the ritual sex act, that they are doing this not for the love of a woman, but in respect of the dead; Tebas. Anaka would sleep with over forty men, before the night was over, while Tebas’s body would be laid upon the golden bed up on the ship, his body surrounded by gifts, flowers, and trinkets to take with him to the next.

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Up along the shore line, to the boat of Valkrik, that had just returned from its voyage to the south lands, Honrick was waiting now for Natsiya to make her way back from the Village hall, to work a deal with what weapons that were brought back after the last battle. With all the fuss of travelers of late, the Vikings were busy having to entertain most, plus Valkrik had now taken over the organisation of his brother’s funeral. That would be the following night. A time when the warriors gathered at the docks, and beat their shields as Anaka would breathe her last breath and follow Tebas to Valhalla.

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Re: The Lands of Old (RP)
February 28, 2014 11:14PM
-Natsiya hearing what she wanted, which was the conversation and learning nothing about what is going on in the village, other then that these people’s god had a thing for Valkirk, which was none of her business. She made her way through the village back to the docks where she wondered if Honrick had dealt with the elf of it Kazia had found a new chew toy.

She spotted him waiting besides the ship and waved at him slightly. Her hips swayed side to side as she walked, but she never thought her self very sensual, even though she did put effort in it once in a while. The jagged scars all over her body didn’t help.

“busy day today Honrick, I don’t remember trade day being this exciting last year,”she chuckled softly finally reaching him and placing her hands on her hips.-

Re: The Lands of Old (RP)
March 07, 2014 06:58AM
The Village Square

Ernil simply stared at the girl who had bared her teeth at him. He was entranced, to be honest. He’d never been made to feel so inferior. It was almost thrilling. He knew that he was not intimidated by her physical show of supposed dominance or superiority, but by the simple fact that her race was most likely, at the base of strength, stronger than his. However, he was unphased. He had too much confidence to back off, but too little experience in the world to retaliate in any way. While he was immortal, he knew he was not invincible. He found himself unsure if he could overtake her in a physical fight, and he was not sure what action of his might trigger their exchange to reach such a point. So he simply continued to stare, his youth perhaps shown in the gesture.

Re: The Lands of Old (RP)
March 07, 2014 09:22PM
The Village Square

-Kazia stared back, her eyes darted around them to the continued crowd, she had options, she had his attention. He reminded her distinctly of the green pup they brought with them this trading trip, and someone was very foolish to send a pup out into the world with out a little bit of a guiding hand, or a guard that knew what they were doing. Didn’t they know there were wolves about.

The crowd seemed to die away and disappear in the corner of her mind as she circled the male tilting her head slightly and allowing the black locks to spill all to one side exposing her bare neck. She made a pass at him drawing up her hand she tried to drag her index finger down his chest, judging him with her eyes like she was examining a prized bull for breeding. When she lifted her eyes to make eye contact again, it was with a searing heat, should she ever see this male again out side the hold of the vikings, she would promise to have him in her bed furs, submissive males outside there breed were hard to come by, and so much fun, and to her, he seemed to have all the trade marks of a sub, or at least one she could work with if he wasn’t all that submissive.

She glanced back at the pack males waiting for her, she made a full circle around them and walked back to the trading hall where they waited not saying a word to him or even giving him a second glance. Instead she left him behind to his own devices, would he follow, or would he stick with the crowd who seemed prepared to attended to the funeral that was being prepared.

The Vollan males would not be attending, not because they were rude, but they both decided it was best to remain by there beta Kazia until Natsiya returned. –

Re: The Lands of Old (RP)
March 13, 2014 10:43PM
Stargorn Bluff – The Funeral

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The night air was ripe with the scent of burning oils that gave off a fine black smoke that trailed up to the heavens. Dozens of torches carried by men and only those that were to witness the final voyage of Tebas to Valhalla. Viking warriors, that had seen to it that the rites were carried out by laying with Anaka would all be present as she was led to the boat that was moored to the wooden pontoon. Decorated by the Angel of death herself, who stood on the pier dressed in ceremonial robes to mark the occasion.

Each warrior carried with them their shields and battle axes, as it was not only part of the ceremony, but a fitting tribute to the noble warrior that was the Chief’s own brother. Honrick and his son, Valkrik were the last to arrive, wearing their furs and leather specially made for this funeral. No expense had been spared by the Chieftain as his brother was much loved and respected of all the kinsman.

All women, bar Anaka and the Angel of death were kept locked inside their homes, for this…was men’s business and if the women knew what was to happen, there would be outrage even though this was a time honored tradition.

Anaka walked between two rows of Vikings, her head held high and wearing the finest of cloth. A dress made from wool and sewn with the symbol of Tebas upon her right breast. She was gestured to stand before a wooden structure that looked much like the frame of a door way. At this point the girl’s eyes became large as they darted between the men that surrounded her, for two came and tied her hands and her feet to the frame itself so she could no longer move freely. The Angel of death crept up to her, smiling as she offered the girl a drink from a chalice, that actually contained a special herbal brew. This was done to help dull the girl’s senses as she joined her Master for the final act of the funeral. Anaka sipped all that the cup had within it, small trickles running down her chin, which she could not wipe away. The two Vikings came back and raised the framed girl up and down three times as all sung out the name of her Master; Tebas.

Now the frame was carried on board the ship and placed directly over the body of Tebas, who lay on a golden covered bed, surrounded by herbs, flagons of wine along with a decapitated hen and cock. As the torches seemed to becoming closer, the girl started to cry out as the realization hit her that she was to be burnt alive. But this was not the case. The Vikings all began to bang their battle axes to their shields in a drum beat like rhythm that would drown out her cries and screams, which might deter other girls from seeking death with their masters in the future.

The Angel of death knotted a rope around the terrified girl’s neck, handing a length to each of the Vikings that had been with the girl every step of the way. The beating of shields got louder, as the Angel of death raised on high a broad dagger, the blade of which glistened in the light of the torches. As she screamed out the name of Tebas, the two vikings pulled on the rope, as the Angel of Death plunged the dagger into the chest of the stricken girl. Blood spewed up and out of the puncture wound, as the girl’s eyes were left wide open in terror. Her neck almost severed by the rope, which had pierced her skin and caused almost instant death. Her blood ran down her body and onto that of the Master, whose eyes had long since closed.

The girl now dead, was a fitting sacrifice to join with Tebas in his voyage to Valhalla.

The Angel of Death left the boat, along with the two vikings, who had done what was expected of them without fault. Many torches were thrown onto the vessel which immediately caught light as it was pushed from it berth, to float down the bay and to the outlet of the sea.

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Honrick and Valkrik watched with little emotion. This was part of life, and the honored way to go into death.

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