Old Gods/Legends/BalinMeetsNerta

Roleplay from Nerta Unti

“So you, must be Balin.”

The words come from a woman rumbling along the dirt path to the construction site. Her wheelbarrow of bricks clacking, she stops by the man who’d given the orders to get to work. She had a gruff voice, bright eyes and somehow was able to shlep bricks in a cloak.

“Big priest like you, how do you help people?” She jerks her chin toward the worksite, “Besides big temples I mean.”

Roleplay from Balin De Chaol Ghleann

Balin was outside the temple in Bessimir, overseeing the construction. He was in a particular good mood as construction of the temple was going on schedule and soon the shack that it once was, would turn in a small but beautiful temple. He was already planning how to decorate it, to best represent his chosen god, the Wolf Lord.

The temple itself was being built from a combination of stone and wood logs, giving it a rustic look, set near a backdrop of a great forest. Balin liked the rustic look as he wanted the temple to feel like it was a part of nature, as we all are. He wanted to be close to the woods where wolves often prowled, so he could hear their voices during his meditation hour. Visitors would also appreciate the beautiful howls of the wolves during service, he was sure of it.

He was woken up from his musings by the gruff voice of a woman. He turned to face her and blinked a few times, gathering this thoughts.

"Indeed I am. I'm glad you noticed the temple. It is not big yet, but one day, perhaps it will be."

He thought a moment about the woman's question.

"I am priest. I help people with their spiritual journey and help them be closer to their chosen god. The life of a Northman is harsh and full of danger, so we must be ever closer to our Gods if we want to persevere and survive."

He drew a breath and continued.

"The Savage Lord commands and makes the most deserving champions prosper. He is my chosen God, and the God that this temple is dedicated to."

"But what brings you in this parts? And what name can I call you by?"

Roleplay from Nerta Unti

"Big priest, big temple..." she gestures to Balin, "big ego?"

The woman didn't wait for a reply. She just throws a brick underhand at Balin's chest and closes in.

"Prove yourself 'champion', Wolf Lord's watching."

Roleplay from Balin De Chaol Ghleann

As the brick flew from the woman's hand, Balin surprised as he was, didn't manage but gape at the woman and the audacity of having a brick thrown at him. The brick hit him square in the chest with a loud "THUCK", driving him back a few steps. An unexpected and strong hit. He rubbed at his chest with one arm, taking the measure of the woman with renewed interest.

Who was this woman that would challenge him on the steps of his temple? But this was not a time to ponder and meditate. She was closing in fast. His chest hurt and that didn't happen often. He was indeed a stout man, though rather short, and had been in a good deal of scrapes in the past. Not often would a blow have such impact. No, this fight he would not take lightly.

He regained his composure and positioned himself in a low guard, arms open, alike a wrestler might take and spoke in a low growl.

"I accept your challenge. Let the Wolf Lord watch and delight himself in this."

In the distance of the forest, a faint howl pierced through the noises of the day.

Roleplay from Nerta Unti

As the brick connects, Nerta scuttles across the ground.

"What did you say? Harsh and full of dangers, right?"

Her movements precise, she balances on her hands as Balin staggers back and kicks the man's stomach while he rubs at his chest.

"You remind me of someone." Springing into a pounce, Nerta hisses, "You both talk too much when there's fighting to be done. I wonder if you'll be as annoying..."

Roleplay from Balin De Chaol Ghleann

The woman was quick, too quick. In the span that Balin took to recover from the brick, she was on him, kicking at his stomach. He spun and retaliated with a sweeping kick to her side, and so the fight began in earnest.

Through the forest leaves, one could hear the rising wind, for it moaned and whistled, while branches off of the large trees crashed together as if drums were beaten to a secret rhythm known well to those denizens of the forest. If the birds up in the trees had looked down towards the temple, they would have seen a stound man, with a long braided red beard and a spiked mohawk, trading blows with a pale and terrifying woman, in a rhythmic back and forth, much like a dance, a wild and terrifying dance. Those birds would have heard loud hits reverberate through the forest, as fists connected with fleshy parts, and feet scraped loudly on the ground. They would have heard low growls and battle cries, taunts and jeers, as the two combatants were engrossed in raucous and chaotic dance, much as two wolves might in the deep of the forest.

And those birds would have missed a great big wolf standing at the edge of the clearing, watching with focused eyes that burned like fire.

Roleplay from Nerta Unti

Balin’s kick sees Nerta miss her pounce and land beside the falling man. From there it becomes a scrabble in the dirt. With elbows and feet striking hard, while hands pull.

As she fumbles for the brick, the spidery woman catches a blow across her jaw. It leaves her next smile as red as his hair, yet her hissing words hardly seem upset.

“Good. You fight for real.”

The wolf steps from the forest as she matches his bet, but the raise is cut short by the sound of something else. Something hungrier than a wolf….

“Zombies!”

Chittering, Nerta pushes Balin away while corpses from the logging camp lurch toward the pair. Slavering for flesh, the first three break into a starved rush as Nerta climbs to her feet and reaches for the spear in the wheelbarrow.

Roleplay from Balin De Chaol Ghleann

Balin wiped the blood from his face, as he looked in the direction the woman pointed at.

"Zombies! Pah! They always ruin any fun I'm having", he muttered angrily to himself, as he started running towards the nearby table where many papers and construction plans laid scattered, and near which he had placed his large war-hammer and round iron shield. "Everyone, get back to town!", he shouted to the workers nearby, as he pushed them out of the way.

It was a bad timing for an invasion as the armies of Thalmarkin were busy on the southern front, in a useless war over the pride of an Agyr queen. There would be no outside help today. Today, it would only be Balin and the strange woman, who had certainly impressed him with her skill and still did not know the name of, that would face the undead horde. It would certainly be a challenge, and Balin's smile widened at the thought of it. The Savage Lord often challenged his followers, and today Balin would revel in the challenge.

As he picked up his war hammer and shield, he made a short prayer to the his God asking that this fight bring glory to the Wolf Lords name, then moved to where the woman was picking up her spear and reading for battle. Today he would be her shield wall, and she would bring death to the shambling bones that dared defy the laws of nature.

Up high, in a nearby tree, a squirrel collected nuts for the winter. Had it looked down towards the temple, it would have noticed a horde of undead shambling closer, hatred of all that is living showing in their cold dead eyes, while commoners fled the construction site. Had it looked to the right, at the edge of the clearing, he would have noticed a large wolf out in the clear, looking on at a red headed stout man nearby a fierce looking pale woman, both readying their weapons in defiance of the incoming undead. It would have seen the wolf snarl in what looked almost like a grin of satisfaction. But the squirrel saw nothing, as it was busy collecting nuts, oblivious to what was to happen.

Roleplay from Nerta Unti

Balin's words are punctuated by a crack of bone as Nerta's spear swings through the lead shambler. Following through she pivots to kick the second before it can rakes her, and grabs the third on her way down, slamming it to the ground.

"Don't worry Balin, we'll finish later."

Nerta hisses in that strange voice as her spear pierces the skull of the prone figure. The net words come after a hard swallow and sound more normal, and amused.

"Don't die."

The pair of Guardians stand shoulder to shoulder as the scouts of the horde pour from the woods. This would be a grim harvest but the pair were outnumbered by the roving tide. Without aid, neither of them would see nightfall.

Roleplay from Balin De Chaol Ghleann

Balin hefted his shield blocking an incoming bony arm, then smashed his war-hammer into the grotesque mass in front of him, hearing a satisfying *crack*. 

"Indeed, Wolf Lord willing, we shall bring death to the.." Balin's words falter for a second, "umm.. dead things". Balin cocked his head to one side thinking about what he just said, but was pulled quickly out of his revelry by the foul stench of the undead surrounding the two of them. He began to fight in earnest, blocking for the woman with this iron shield, and smashing bones and flesh that came too close with his warhammer, and while the pale woman expertly pierced through the heads of the undead, or out through their spine, dealing them an instant second death, the final death. 

The two warriors danced, in a crazed yet synchronized dance of death, dispatching the shambling masses, left and right. But as the dead fell, and the piles of bones and rotting flesh grew taller, more came to take their place. It was a fight to be remembered, a fight the bards would have written songs for and told stories by the hearth fires, but alas, there might not be anyone to remember it. The dead came and came and did not stop, while the man and woman fighting side by side felt the shield grow heavy, the spear pierce with less power, and the war-hammer rise slower with every blow. Yet, it was clear that the red haired stout man and pale ferocious woman would not stop, not until the air stopped flowing in their lung and their heart stopped pumping blood. It would not be long now.

On one side of the battlefield, on a small hill, a gopher peered out with interested. But it did not look at the battle, nor to the undead. It peered at a large gray wolf mere paces from the hole the gopher called home, howling loudly towards the darkening evening sky.

As it howled, it grew colder and colder still, and fine, powdery snow began to fall, covering the land with a white blanket. As the gopher watched, the keen wind carried the wolf's howls through the dark forest, and new howls responded, at first distant and few, but as the large wolf kept howling with insistence, the howls grew louder, and closer. As moments past, the baying of the wolves sounded nearer and nearer, as though they were closing from every side, soon joined by low and terrifying growls and snarls coming from just outside the clearing.

The gopher ran back into its hole, a smart choice when apex predators come near, and so it could not see the rows of white fangs glistening in the fading sunlight, as saliva dripped from their snarling snouts. But as the gopher hid inside it's hole, it could still feel the earth trembling under many powerful paws, as scores of wolves moved as one towards a great battle unfolding near a small wooden temple, with an image of a Great Wolf carved above the open gate. 

Roleplay from Nerta Unti

Nerta hadn't fought like this since Seven Rivers, when the dead had stretched to the horizon and only Bob had dared join in battle. Bob and..... Jacinda.

The memory earns the next zombie a vicious stab while claws scrabble at the shield and wolves howl.

Jacinda, Mielba, Vankocuf .... Soren.

Her spear falls as dead hands grab her from behind and Nerta is pulled from Balin's protective shadow. Suspended in the fetid embrace of three, her cloak finally opens and hands grab at the creatures around her, warding off their snapping jaws with a hiss of her own.

"Shut up Old Man! I was distracted...."

Nerta stabs one with a knife while claws rake across growing chitin and the horde presses Balin.

Roleplay from Soren Navaar

Soren absently wondered who would mess with their own realm’s road signs. Instead of going home through Yipinalke from the tournament, he had gotten turned around and gone north during a bout of fog. A trick played by the Ephemeral Emperor if he had ever seen one. A sigh as he ran a hand through dark hair and looked up at the sky. I may as well keep going, he decided. Go the long way home, or turn around and risk trouble with more border guards. He had already hidden his livery and was passing through as a well armed bard. For the tournament, he had taken the spear on his back, and at his hip was his sword.

Silence filled the air, as if something had stirred driving the wildlife away. Ignoring the signs, and bored by himself, he decided to hum and fill the empty air. Each note crept a little louder than the last, subtly at first, until Soren’s lips quirked into a smile and he started, singing as they rode along until his voice echoed over the land.

They're rattling their rapiers
And prancing in their livery
They're howling at the gates again
Hot time in the old town tonight
Get yourself together
And meet me ‘low the mezzanine
We're gonna have a reckoning
Hot time in the old town tonight
Tonight, Tonight,
We're gonna make it our own
But we're gonna do it right
Tonight, Tonight,
We're gonna make it our own
But we're gonna do it right...

A couple of verses later, the song ended, and Soren felt more alive and ready for whatever lingered in the region. Unbeknownst to the singing bard, he was wandering ever closer to the source of the silence until the first signs of unlife made themselves known. Low groans and the sounds of grinding joints and cracking bones rippled across the air. The dead walk once more, he realized in time to see a one-armed creature shambling after something else. Checking to make sure nothing was lingering behind, the young bard readied his gear and let his horse go free as he started after the dead. His spear on his back now, and a hand on his sword, just in case.

The call of the dead creatures grew louder, as he moved along. A lot more had gathered, and it looked as though they were advancing on some people. A village must be nearby, he determined and drew his sword.

Soren’s blade, forged from an old daimon weapon during the fourth invasion, demanded attention as he drew it. The nearest undead immediately turned towards him. A clean swipe immediately took the head off of one of the creatures, and another cleaved through a second. Grinning. The man fell into song as began to cut a path toward the survivors. "This is our house, Are you ready for the fisticuffs, The fuss, the muss, the row, the fray? Hot time in the old town tonight."

The first few dead dropped before they could do more than turn to him. The flat of his sword connected with one skeletal figure, knocking the skull free into the air like a ball until it landed somewhere near Nerta and Balin. Let’s show them how I won the tournament in Unger. Warmed up, he took a step back and switched to his spear. The dead would surround him long before he would reach them, and he needed the buffer. "This is our house, Take your medicine, And fly the fiddlin' back away, From whence you came, Hot time in the old town tonight."

Soren’s spear skill was more like a staff with a sharp extension, as he bludgeoned and jabbed his way through, parting the dead within his defensive radius. "Tonight, Tonight, We're gonna make it our own, But we're gonna do it right. Tonight, Tonight, We're gonna make it our own, But we're gonna do it right."

Balin and Nerta were finally in sight. Recognizing the priestess he wondered if he should thank the Emperor he had made it here until she was swarmed by the dead. The young count broke off his song with a roar as he pushed through the crowd of dead and drove a spear straight into one of Nerta's captors pinning it into the dirt. Using the weapon as a vault, he jumped and slammed feet first into another of her captors, and came back up from the ground with sword drawn.

Flashing a grin at Nerta, the feeling of relief lighting up his face, as he pulled her free from the last creature and cut it down. "You had better not die on me, Nerta."