War For The North {In Character}

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Florina felt a bit awkward to say the least "Glad to meet you too and you seem quite suitable" she said forcing a fake smile up she felt a bit of disgust when she said that. She felt slight relief when she heard her fathers voice "Oh father i found the book you were looking for earlier ".
 
"That is why I am proud of you over all my bastard children." The king smiled. He stopped and sniffed. "It smells like an Orc cut open a jackass to sleep in during the cold winter. My cousin must be dwelling!" He joked, happily. He ejoyed beig around his cousin, as scarce of a time that was.
 
Bjarke clutched the bag of heads for a moment then dropped them on the floor, he grumbled watching the boy kiss his second cousins hand, it infuriated him. That this brat should be to marry her.

"Haha!" Bjarke exclaimed seeing his cousin enter the room, he walked hastily towards him and wrapped him in his arms squeezing the air out of him, "It is good to see you dear cousin, I wouldnt dare I assume I am in charge and by your request I will not cut him down."

"But I assure you if he attempts to command me again, he will loose his tongue" he whispered into his cousins ear and let out a hearty laugh.

"Ah it has been too long, she has grown taller than I. And you... well I'll find something nice to point out eventually."

He patted his cousin on the shoulder to show he was joking heavily, he smiled broadly and watched the boy. There would be no room for error as long as he was around.
 
"I am not as young as I used to be, Bjarke. Please, do be gentle with me." Salem laughed. He caught his breath when his cousin put him down, and flattened out his attire.

"Believe me cousin, I have heard the mouth on this one. I do hope he steps out of line." He grew serious for a moment, looking up and Bjarke with angry eyes.
 
"By the gods please smite and kill him now or i would have to do it my self actually i'l just do it my self... someday" she thought as she looked at The Hunter, she'll have to put up a act to trick him into thinking she actually loves him hmm that should be fun and she'll be able to see if this man really is suitable for her which the answer is most likely no.
 
Bjarke's smile fell to a small smirk, he looked into his cousins eyes. He recognized the eyes of anger and the tone of his cousins voice.

"Say the word and I'll add a head to that bag," He let out a laugh and tried to steer the conversation to a more light hearted topic, "Colbourn wished to see you but I decided he should stay with his mother. He's making his father proud, already killed a wolf on his own. The boy had grown fond of the idea of killing for his country and king."

Bjarke put his hand on his cousins shoulder and gave it a reassuring squeeze, "So tell me of your politics, and who I've come to kill dear cousin."
 
"Do I have quite the story for you, cousin."
Chapter Two
The Forming Storm​
[spacer]Prince Polin sat in the dining hall with his second cousin, daughter, his possible son-in-law, and a few guards keeping watch. There were plenty of candles lit, due to the fact that the sky was black with storm clouds, and water was coming down very hard. The table was filled with goblets of crisp, brown beer, roasted any bird you can roast, potatoes that have been mashed, fried, peeled, baked and stued, a nice brisket that has been cooked for six hours in a blood red wine, that had turned to the same form as the pulled pork that was beside it. Smaller foods such as berries and loose vegitables circled the table.[/spacer]
[spacer]"Since father died, and my brother, king robert, is king of Hemlock, I'm left here on my own to be the king. But, my mother is still around. That filthy whore is what's keeping me from my throne." Salem sipped his wine slowly. "That bitch neglects me, she leaves the throne room while I am around. She would rather have the king of Hemlock as her only son."[/spcer]

[spacer]Robert squinted over the edge of the boat. The water was being disturbed by the rain, but he could swear he saw something under the water. "Our men are not back yet." He groaned and rubbed his beard. "We sent that scouting ship to the island over twenty minutes ago. What is keeping them so long?[/spacer][/spacer]
 
"I don't even see grandmother around so i assumed she's dead if she i'd assume she will be soon if not mean she can easily be disposed of anyways same goes for the king" she said casually as she calmly sipped her wine.
 
[spacer]"Do you hear the way my daughter talks about family, cousin?" Salem chuckled. "She is just like her father. Grandma Tetra is an elf, so old age won't be killing her within this moon phase. But I will let you all in on a small secret."[/spacer]
[spacer]Salem reached into a pocket in his cloak and pulled out a bottle of a really dark red liquid. "This has been said to kill a giant in a matter of minutes. If I give this to my mother queen, the crown will sit upon my head."[/spacer]
 
"Careful what you say cousins," Bjarke said taking a sip of the beer, an expression of happiness came to his face as he had not tasted good beer in some time, "Our new friend here might have something to the idea of you being called king."

It occurred to Bjarke that the hunter could be in this for the power and that worried him, he didnt like him in the first place but couldnt place his purpose here. It was doubtful that he chose to come for any benefit but his own.

"It has been long since I've seen my Aunt the Queen, from what I remember she was a spiteful bitch in her hayday. And youngling it is unwise to speak of the murder of another king even in ones own hall."

He smiled at her reassuringly to ensure she knew he said it with good intentions. He pulled some of the roast off and loaded it onto his plate, he tossed some into his mouth and let it sit for a moment, savoring the taste. He pulled a plate of finch and snapped off a leg peeling some meat from it and biting half of it off and tossing the rest onto his plate.
 
[spacer]Salem eye balled Ser Rouce, who was staring at his daughter. The boy had pulled pork, briscut, salad, roast chicken, roast turkey, roast beef, and mashed potatoes on his plate. He had yet to touch it. Salem slowly sipped his beer and turned his gaze back to Bjark. "I like this beer more when it is warm and fresh."[/spacer]
[spacer]"So Bjork," The hunter finally spok out. "You said you have a young one, Colbourn was it? You say he has killed a wolf." He sipped his drink, and wrinkled his nose at it. "You should let him come along with me on a hunt. I have been tracking a bird as big as the lock (Hemlock), if not bigger. I will gladly let your son have some of the meat from the bird once tis dead."[/spacer]
 
"If that's the case then i'l make sure to silence any power hungry 'suitors' " she said coldly, grinning afterwards before looking at Father who was holding a bottle of really dark red liquid and smiled "I could give it to her Father since she seems to avoid you but not me if that doesn't work there's always the alternative mentioned" she grinned again.

She then heard what the hunter said about a bird as big as the lock "Dear a bird that large isn't called a bird it would be called a dragon".
 
Kascarde Da'Sionne
King Robert's fleet.

"Why have we stopped?" Kascarde asks the crew mates on the ship he was on. "Don't tell me there are more rocks..." Kascarde stared at the King's ship in the lead. Looking around he found it generally hard to see, and he couldn't shake the feeling they were being watched.

"Even if it is just rocks we have to be careful you know, rain is good cover for an ambush." A fellow mercenary says.

"Or some kind of sea monster" A Knight says with a slight slur.

The mercenary slaps the knight's back "Bah, You're drunk David, wrong time, we aren't in the deep fathoms even."

Kascarde felt the ocean around them shake rather forcefully, he assumed this was just the wind. "Whatever you say, friend. Pray, let it be neither of those two possibilities." Kascarde sits back down, sword over his shoulder. "We'll be docking soon."
 
Bjarke let out a laugh between sips of his beer, he slammed his goblet down on the table and smiled viciously at the boy.

"In the presence a bear you do not call it boar," Bjarke said his voice deep and cold, "It is Bjarke. And as for Colbourn, he is a Brynjar, we hunt prey that deserve the hunt. Not petty orcs and big birds. But perhaps one day you could hold his spears for him, and maybe you may fashion a necklace of his preys teeth."

Bjarke smiled staring at the brat and took a drink of his beer, he was daring the boy to bark back at him and likely loose his life.

"I wouldnt mind a glass of harder meed, something to really knock me out of my chair."
 
Aidan was used to the sounds of the busy city, and war...always war. It was almost a symphonic background of her everyday life. She walked along the back roads, after a long day of work at the stables, taking in her surroundings as if today was the day the low class baker would be doing something else besides selling day old bread. That the Chickabee children wouldn't run around her legs chasing after their dog while their mother shouts at them that its dinner time. That the poor young Lyla wouldn't walk up and down the road with mud caked shoes, her feeble voice begging for anything; food, money, a conversation. But as Aidan dropped a coin into Lyla's basket around the time the Chickabee children tangled around her skirts, she knew that would never be so. This human refugee camp would always be poor, and always ever predictable. Just as Aidan knew, at her ripe age of 19, she would grow a poor old spinster. As sure as she would walk the two miles to get home to her family's isolated cabin, her father no doubt waiting for dinner.
"There's my girl," her father grunted from the bedding set up in the main room by the old worn table, the eight chairs scattered around it.
"Help your mama with the dinner will ya," he says rather than asks as his thumb pushes at the blade against the small wooden carving in his hand. He was a gifted carver but that wasn't necessarily a paying position nowadays. "Of course father," She smiled through her tiredness and removed her wretched shoes (she absolutely loathed shoes) and tied on her apron as she lent her mother a hand. Even as she peeled potatoes she couldn't help but look out the window, the weak supply of her optimism wishing for more.
 
Her eyes fixated on his blacksmith work. She never quite understood his enjoyment in making weapons for men who would use it improperly. She added her weight on her right leg while she waited for her husband to respond. Once she received his attention she smiled at the man. As she believed, he also didn't enjoy the idea of a war coming. She looked down on the ground. Her foot walked towards the walls of where swords were hung neatly. The man's words scarred her. The north had harsh winds, terrible snow storms, and terrible place for agriculture -- the food was scarce. She crossed her arms over her stomach and she had an uncomfortable expression on her face. Her lip tugged downward creating a half-frown. His last sentence made her smile, but it quickly vanished once she returned her thoughts to being sent back in the north.

"What will happen to us? I worry we'll get involved. I'm worried they'll coop you up here making weapons every single second." She quickly walked over to Salem with a worrisome expression on her face. Gwendolyn looked at the sword and then back at her husband. "Wh-" She stopped herself thinking. "What if the trolls enter Tyrmiel?" The woman shuddered at the word trolls. She didn't enjoy the thought of trolls entering Tyrmiel was a nightmare. She has never encountered with a troll, but the stories she's heard, they were horrendous.
 
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Kristoff and Adrian had a bad feeling about this whole thing. They knew that they would have to go to the island to find out what happen. The thing was Adrian couldn't help but feel that something bad was upon them all. Kristoff didn't have the same feelings, sure he knew nothing good was going on, but he was not about let his men die. He was not letting them lose their lives while he sat on this boat waiting. "Your Grace, I think something is keeping them up. We need to go and find what's what. Kristoff got his swords out and ready. Adrian took his sword out and kissed his sun necklace. "Ok men, LET'S GO!" Standing in front of the boat with his swords pointed out, Kristoff waited for them to hit land.

As the Royal Crew made their way towards the island they could see the scouting boat was empty. "Your Grace I'd advise you to stay here." Adrian got off the boat and motion for Kristoff and the Royal Crew to get off the boats with him. It seemed like once they touch land, all hell broke loose. Elves pop out of everywhere. They didn't look like the Elf King elves, but some other type. "I knew something was up. Men get ready for a battle!" Kristoff jumped into the middle of the elves, he sliced at them cutting them. He was loving this. Adrian on the other hand he was getting his ass handed to him. Adrian was getting old he wasn't the best swordsman anymore. He fought at them slicing one elf's arm clean off but he couldn't handle them. Kristoff was about to come and save him. Once Kristoff got over to where his father was, it was to late. Kristoff heard a blood curdling scream, like a cow dying from disease or a girl becoming a woman. "Father!" The last thing Kristoff saw in his father's eyes were the light of life going out. He pushed one of the elves to the ground, moving him out of the way. "Father? I'm so sorry for this! I should've stayed by your side." Even though his father couldn't say anything anymore, Kristoff knew that he was listening. Kristoff knew that his father wouldn't want him to weep and live in sorrow. Kristoff in memory of his father took the sun necklace, from around his father's neck and put it around his neck. "YOU BASTARDS!" Kristoff in a fit of rage sliced and thrashed at the elves. He took out the last remaining few of them, if his armor wasn't blood red already it would definitely be now. "Men help me bring my father to the water!" Kristoff knew that he couldn't very well bring his father on the boat, he would set him a shore. Once he made it back to Hemlock he would have a spiritual burial for him. "I love you father. By the Gods! I will AVENGE YOU!" Now being the new leader by default Kristoff motion the men to get back on their boats. "We set sail now!" Holding his father's necklace in his hands, Kristoff was filled with rage and fury. The elves and orcs better pray for their lives.


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Trinita's so called "errands" were of a different nature. Trinita needed to find someone to sneak her on a boat to Tymriel. She was a princess of sorts, she couldn't very well get on a boat; like no one would notice her leaving. Trinita had to find some way to get there. For now Trinita would just go to her favorite pub, she was a lady but a lady can drink can't she? Before Trinita could make it to there, she felt like her heart was being rip out of her. Something was not right. Trinita never felt this way, the last time she felt this way was when...her mother died. Trinita had to get to the castle and find her brother or father, now.
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[spacer]Ser Rouce smiled and took in a forkfull of potatoes. "Dragons lack the feathers and color this bird has. I have taken the lierty of naming it the Collosus." He beamed with halse pride.[/spacer]
[spacer]The hunter made a disgusted face as he heard the bear talk. "Were you talking? All I heard was the grumble of a monster I have forgotten to slay. No worries, I will just-"[/spacer]
[spacer]Out of a pure annoyance with his daughter's soon to be husband, Salem cut the hunter off. "You want a stronger ale, cousin?" He chugged down his drink, locking eyes with Bjarke. He slammed it down when he was finnished. "Out drink me, and you can get all the strong alcohal you request."[/spacer]


[spacer]"Kascarde." The captian called from his quarters. "Go below deck to the mage's room and tell them to be above deck, ice spells ready in case of an emergency."[/spacer]
 
Amras purposely waited for the Orc to play his hand, knowing that if given enough rope, the fowl beast would hang himself, he smiled as the vile creature went and gave the signal, but still feigned astonishment at the sight of the siege weapons, of course the Elves knew the Orc cannons where there, in fact the Orc's attempts at being stealthy while dragging along four siege cannons had become the source of much amusement among the Elven Scouts and wagers had been made among them at how long it would take the Orc Cannoneers to realize the cannons had been sabotaged.

Amras continued to watch as the Orc only made his situation worse by assaulting a Guard and then foolishly charging toward the Elven King. He raised his hand as way of stopping the Archers from letting loose their arrows, the Orc for the moment was still useful despite the fact that his actions warranted death. Amras waited till the creature was just close enough, then with speed like that of a striking viper, his hand went to the hilt of his sword and drew it from the scabbard, he glared at the Orc in defiance and pronounced in commanding tone,

"Order those cannon to fire and the pitch that my scouts poured down the barrels will catch fire and cause them to explode, now as for knowing you...It's not that I don't know whom you are... its that I do not care whom you are, your arrogance alone has doomed your kind, Orc....sneaking onto Elven land.... setting up cannon over an Elven City and openingly threatening to fire them at the Elven Palace, are actions that will be considered as an invasion of a hostile force and therefore constitutes as an declaration of war upon Elvenkind by the Orcs, therefore you leave me no choice but to call forth the Elven Legions and march south in defence of the Elven Homeland, you and your band will be held as prisoners of war, whether or not your leaders wish for your return to answer for thus unwarranted attack will determine whether or not you live or die, and although I do not care to have your entrails fowling my floor, I'll not hesitate to have you killed here and now if you refuse to surrender".
 
"Oh shall we bring back the old game cousin?" Bjarke said downing his beer, and pouring himself another, "Have you forgotten the victor of this game from our youth?"


Bjarke laughed and ignored the hunters speaking, he would make him pay for it later. Perhaps a pile of horse shit in his bed, or maybe even an ugly whore to shock him. Oh god the things that boy would endure if he chose to stay it brought a chuckle to Bjarke. He downed another cup of beer and slammed it on the table.

"Still feeling up to it cousin?" Bjarke said grabbing the pitcher nearest him and raising it to his face, "Care to go for the big prize?"
 
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