Agnaran's Agony RP

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Herna felt the snow crunching under her feet, there was about an inch of it, as she walked next to the coach the horses where pulling along the trail. The weather was cold, below freezing, which was to be expected as it was the twenty sixth day of the month of Agnala. Herna was certainly under dressed for the weather, wearing only a quilted shirt and leggings under her chainmail in order to avoid the less pleasant aspects of wearing chainmail, but ice maidens like her did not feel the sting of the cold at this temperature. It was late in the morning, but hard to tell with the trees of this woodland stretching overhead.

"Fetch me Rusknar." Herna barked at one of her ice maidens. Utavas was less then a day's march from this location and Herna believed getting inside the besieged city was her largest concern right now as the enemy certainly wasn't going to allow them to go unmolested into the city.

"Yes, matriarch.", the ice maiden bowed slightly before leaving to retrieve Rusknar.

The coach door opened and out stepped Iselda holding a northern helmet, complete with eye and nose guards, in one hand and her spear in the other.

"So you've finally decided to join us." Herna's face swept up into a sneer.

"The goddess speaks in dreams sometimes, not that you'd know. It makes for poor sleep on such nights.", said Iselda, finishing the sentence with a yawn.

"Curb your tongue, Matriarch Snowdiamond may speak of the future Illorun holds for you, but I doubt your faith. You haven't earned your faith in Illorun like I have."

"Doubting Astrilia Snowdiamond? You openly speak such blasphemy? Doubting her is doubting Illorun herself.", the helmet in Iselda's hand was placed on her head.

"Quiet insolent child, I have no doubts in my fellow ice maidens and certainly none in my goddess, you, however, are an other story."

"Child? I'm not...", Iselda girted her teeth and shook her head, "I'm through here. I feel like hearing Ralsion tell a story of one of his adventures. I'll be with him if you need me."

Herna shook her head, the foolish girl was far too friendly with creatures who where not only little more then beasts of burden, but prone to dangerous urges as well. Illorun would surely punish Iselda for these actions which where inappropriate for one chosen by the goddess herself for service. Herna felt her hatred for Iselda rise just thinking about that. Why did Illorun choose a girl like that over her, Herna, who had done everything she could to devote her will to that of her goddess?

Herna was lost in bitter thoughts when the ice maiden returned with Rusknar in tow.

"Matriarch... I have done as you told me."

Herna nodded and waved the ice maiden off. She then turned to the frost folk berserker, Rusknar. His hard face wore a sinister scowl.

"You are to go ahead, since you have seemed so at ease amongst that pack and inform them of their duties. If that pack as wandered off, falling to their own inclinations, I will not only flay their alpha alive and make a cloak from his pelt, but you will suffer as well for failing me. Now go and pray that you don't disappoint me."

Rusknar's lips raised up into a snarl, but he said nothing, only placing his hand on his battleaxe looped on his belt as an acknowledgment. Rusknar's long strides carried him away from Herna and into the woodlands. Herna looked behind her, where the conscripts where marching. Morale was certainly low for most of those forced into service, though seeing as most where poor, it stemmed from being far from home rather then from the conscription itself as this was little different from the conscription the faced from their feudal lords. A small group was gathered around her prized possession of the conscription, the famous mercenary, Ralsion Graywood.

 

Dawkens sat in the snow near Ralsion absently listening to the mans story. He was miserable. It was cold, they were constantly being marched and shouted at and for a cause that Dawkens wasn't completely sure if.

He noticed one of the Ice Maidens coming near. It was the strange one. She seemed younger than the other Ice Maidens and little off. She didn't treat the conscripts quite as terribly as the others but still. She joined the group who were fanatically listening to Ralsion.

Dawkens sat back and continued to be miserable.

 

He sat quietly and still, waiting patiently for someone to command his group. This was not his first "job" under the Ice Maidens' watchful eyes. It's best to do as they say, no matter, and give no backtalk.

Sestrum slowly moved his gaze over the others in his group. It was the same as anywhere: misery, anger, fear, bloodlust.

 

Iselda glanced over at Dawkens.

"Stand up.", Iselda turned to the entire group as if an orator, her magnetic personality grabbing the attention of most nearby, "We haven't the time to shuffle or feet or drag our toes. A favored temple of Illorun, the Temple of the Night's Chill, stands with Utavas. Should we fail to relieve the city in time Illorun will visit her displeasure upon all of us invovled."

A girlish smile flashed across Iselda's lips, which was unnerving coming from one such as her as she turned towards Ralsion.

"Well mercenary, continue with your story. I hear you where recently in the south and I've never been outside the reach of Illorun's cold. Do tell me about such a hideous place."

Ralsion's face was impassive as he began to tell of Iselda wished to hear, "I was recently in the Dragon's Desert, not far from the part of Southern Auvelaine were I grew up. There isn't much to tell however. It's a land of sand and stone claimed by the blue dragon Ysaurandion. We passed through such lands unmolested and we only heard Ysaurandion, never met her. She offered me employment when I finished guarding the merchant I was with, but I am not so foolish to lend my services to a dragon as vain as a blue dragon or one a notorious liar as Ysaurandion. There is little more to tell, but that I might be getting out of practice as the last three jobs I have taken have gone without any blade being drawn. My reputation now seems to proceed me."

 

Dentarg slams his hammer down angrily. "hmph, A task that does not test one's mettle is a task not worth taking!" Dentarg interjected loudly. "Fighting, that is where you find out what you are truly made of, In a fight, titles and ranks matter not, all that counts is skill, but if you are as good with a sword as i've heard, then Ralsion, it shall be an honour to fight beside you, may death come swiftly to our enemies"

 

"From the words whispered between us fodder the enemies we will fight might already be dead, oh brutish one." Dawkens said quietly from where he sat. "The undead are much hard to kill than the living."

 

"living or dead, they shall feel the might of Dentarg's hammers all the same!" he said, rising to his feet. "in the name of Borgerix, I shall crush their unholy bodies and salt the earth with dust"

 

"Undead burn just as easily as the living" commented Alixnan. "The result will be the same regardless of their state of existence"

 

"The undead often prove to be mere minions, and who they serve is often of the living, and is the true enemy" Dentarg remarked as he reached into his pack and pulls out an apple.

"no doubt some evil wizard or priest from some form of demonic cult" he mumbled.

 

"The thing about the undead though. Is even when they are down they still aren't dead. Broken spines, severed legs, they still don't stop." Dawkens muttered. "Sure they can be killed one and the same. The other thing is with no fear, there is no retreat. We can kill hundreds and be standing on the bodies of the fallen and still the undead will come."

 

"let them come, let them taste my righteous and holy fury!!" Dentarg said boldly. "ive met few undead that have withstood it's barrage"

 

A man wondered in from the back of the crowd dressed in aristocratic finery designed for the cold weather. A a heavy and beautiful cloak hung from his back, trimmed with wolf fur. The man's family crest was on the back, a green dragon wyrmling curled in a circle so nose touched tale. This man, Lorenzal, moved himself along the side of the of those around Ralsion, opposite of where Iselda was positioned. Lorenzal can up along side Dentrag, but not too close, assuming that the half-orc, like most half-orcs wasn't particularly pleasant in odor. Lorenzal smiled at Dentarg in a fashion similar to how one smiled at a child.

"Surely one such as you who seems to be in possession of some degree of clerical ability has no need to deal with the undead in terms of physical confrontation. Would not your divine lord be inclined to spur such horrors from where you stand?"

Iselda glared over at Lorenzal

"Don't slow your pace while you talk."

 

"aah, indeed" Dentarg replied. "such abilities prove to be quite handy in a tight spot, saved my life on more than one occasion, and from what ive heard about those we are to face, it seems i may have to make use of it."

 

Sestrum merely cocked a brow at the posturing around him.

 

The trail the ice maidens where following began to change from true woodland to frozen marshland. The tree cover remained however and in the distance what might have been a small river gurgled in the distance to the right of the path.

The wagon train abruptly stopped. Apparently part of the road had frozen over and the lead wagon, one of the important supply wagons, had broken the thin layer of ice, getting stuck in the muck and water underneath. The weather was not cold enough for the ground itself to have become frozen and heavy objects, like wagons could still find themselves trapped by the wet, mailable earth. The air began filled with the shouting of the ice maidens trying to get the conscripts in order to push the particular wagon and likely the subsequent wagons through the muck.

 

The marsh felt of death, decay and things long rotten. This place had seen death more then was natural and Alixnan knew this would end badly for all involved. The delay caused by the wagons would slow them down, and staying in one spot did not seem a wise decision.

 

Herna gritted teeth and narrowed her eyes as a cold fury began to sweep over her. She stormed towards the driver of the lead wagon who had by now stepped down from the wagon and was scratching his head. The man quickly stopped paying attention to the wagon when he say the lead ice maiden heading his way and instinctively clutched his right hand, which was curiously missing it's pointer finger, something that he had surely started the trip with. Herna wasted no time grabbing this unfortunate man and slamming him against the wagon he drove.

"Do you seek pain maggot? It is only through Illorun's restraint that I haven't impaled you the moment you failed your task.", a frightening visage swept across the half-elf's face, turning her uninviting beauty into something diabolic.

"I'm-I'm sorry, m'lady. I didn't think to-"

"Your hands don't match."

"N-no, please..."

"Dogs like you only learn when you're kicked or beaten."

Herna reached for her short spear.

 

"It's not his fault the ground is still soft." Dawkens said quietly from the side of the wagon. "Maybe the ice queen forgot to freeze this part of the road. It'll be much easier for him to get the wagon unstuck if he doesn't have to work one handed."

 

"prehaps he should have thought about that before getting the wagon stuck" Dentarg murmered, with a slight sarcastic tone. " *sigh* now time shall have to be spent digging it out, time that could be better spent helping to save a besieged city"

 

Herna threw an ice glance at her fellow half-elf before opening her mouth.

"How dare you throw blame on the beloved Maiden Goddess for this happening, insect?", Herna as surprisingly controlled as she responded, though her anger seethed into the response none the less.

Herna looked away from Dawkens momentarily before turning back to him.

"Do not make the mistake of assuming me the fool again. I know well the consequences of removing a hand. However, this dog can continue to serve me with less then five fingers on each hand. A bit of advice for the future... openly doubting my punishments may cause the punishment to be passed on you instead. Maybe I'll go as far as passing the punishment on both for I find no problem in punishing an animal like you."

Herna then took the hand of the wagon driver and pressed it up against the wagon, issuing the command "Open" as the man clenched his hand into a fist. As the man hand uncurled, Herna's shortspear passed through the base of man's left pointer finger. The man, expectantly, shrieked in pain and collapsed to the ground clutching his left hand.

Herna turned to an ice maiden nearby, "Heal his wound, I don't want his blood to attract the attention of monsters."

Herna then turned back to the rest of the relief force, "I expect no more failures. That was but a taste of how cruel I can be to those who fail, for you fail not only me, but Illorun as well."

Herna turned back to her ice maidens, "Bring the other wagons around by whatever means necessary. Let the strongest beasts be responsible for this wagon."

After issuing that statement, Herna left for the front of the relief force.