Holding the fort

[Kenna & Fenrir]

DATE & TIME : June 6th, some time after dawn
WEATHER CONDITIONS : Raining
CHARACTERS INVOLVED : Kenna, Hysteria [Redkitebait], Hysteria [Luna]?
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Kenna shiddered, looking around. The village felt odd with no one in it. Well, nearly no one. There were a few others like her that were staying in the village in case some Hysterians snuck off here and decided to raze the place to the ground. It wasn’t like it was likely, it was just it’s something you have to prepare for.

Having said that, she was glad she was the main blacksmith of the village. She didn’t have to fight in the battle yet since only idiots put the guy that can make their weapons in a place to get killed off. Her hand moved to the hilt of her sword. It was strange having a sword on her, she left the testing of swords to others; she just made them. It wasn’t that she wasn’t competent with them, she just never liked them. That was a part of the reason she had her hammer strapped to her, she was better with swords, but she prefered her hammer.

Her mind then moved to that thought, and the thought of Mr Pickles in the fight. She felt worried about him, she knew he was strong enough to take care of himself, but there was the possibility he could be taken down, after all, they’ll be aiming at him first.

To try and distract her from that thought, she started walking around the village, going around to make sure everything was as it should be. It felt so bleak with the rain falling like it was. “At least it’s unlike this place will be burnt down right now.” She thought to herself, wishing that she could get a fire, or atleast for the bloody rain to stop.

She paused as she saw a door open. The door to Luna’s house. She drew her sword and walked towards the house. It hadn’t been open when she’d last past her house, something was wrong.

She came to the door and saw someone in there…and it wasn’t someone she knew. “Who are you and why are you in Luna's house?”

[REDKITEBAIT]

Fungus the Bear-Griller and his men had set up camp not too far away from the village, but just far away enough to not be perceived as a threat. Fungus the Bear-Griller was an expert hunter, thus knew stealth; which was why he had been picked by Baldr himself to lead the infiltration mission.

Gnawing on a leg of some poultry, he listened to the words of his men - there were four of them, and not any of them were ideal for this job at all. They were loud and raucous and eager to fight. Because of this, they complained.

"I cannae wait ter burn some houses down!" Scörn the Fire-headed bellowed. Others nodded, some rolling their eyes at their pyromaniac companion. They didn't complain about his presence, he did a pretty good job keeping them all warm from the biting cold that was to soon bring rain.

"I hope ter find a pretteh lady... to uhh... hmm." The less social of the group, Harold the Fiercely Quiet. The Hysterians once again nodded. Harold was unusually shy when speaking to others, so they understood his desire.

"Raarrgh! I want riches! And food!" Cried Boris the Selfish, waving a fist full of flesh.

"I want ter kill some Hooligans! I'd rather be fightin' in the war!" Bracken the Brute. Fungus shook his head as the conversation grew in volume. Looking up from his meager meal, his eyebrows furrowed.

"QUIET!" They all went quiet. He was the boss, after all. Fungus smirked at his newfound power. Once he had their attention, he spoke calmly and quietly, with an air of confidence, "The idea is that we are stealthy. They don't need to know we are here. So, that means there are no pillaging, raping or burning houses down, got it?" One by one, the faces of the men frowned. Fungus now looked into the sky. Since when did he have such a dysfunctional team?

It began to rain, slowly snuffing the life and warmth of the fire, much to the distaste of Scörn. In a rush to get everything into the shelter of the trees, they had barely heard the horn blow, except for Fungus. He was a hunter, used to listening to every detail in the ambience. It was time. They made their preparations quickly before leaving the campsite.

They made their way through the forest silently, coming from behind where the war was taking place to reach the village. Sticking to the tree line, they made their way around to where there was a back door to a house.

Fungus remembered that Hrothgar's daughter was raised to be a healer under Theraputix's guidance. From that knowledge, he sought an eye out for any clues that might lead to where she could be taking residence... that is, if she was even on the island.

Harold made a quiet gurgling noise, as if he wanted to say something but suddenly lacked the courage to do so mid-syllable. Instead, he pointed to a house which had numerous dragon and human footprints around the huge back door. A bouquet of lavender was hung out to dry by the door, a good sign.

Making a hand signal to make sure the other four don't do anything stupid, Fungus went to make sure the coast was clear before entering. The door wasn't locked, which was common in communal villages like these, especially more so for a healer's house. Opening the door quietly, he was hit by a strong smell of musty straw and dragon droppings.

He persisted. It didn't seem like anyone was home, and more traces of healing were in this room - scrap ends of bandages and stems of flowers and herbs littered the floor to complement the abundance of straw. This was what they were looking for. Turning around, he beckoned the others, insisting on silence. Well, he only had three to take care of about that.

Passing through a curtain into the main room, it was clear to Fungus the Bear-Griller this was some sort of healing house. He ordered the others quietly to start searching for the knife - the knife that a descendant of Hysterian leadership would wield. Harold went immediately to the bedroom - not like anyone would be here.

Fungus searched around the counter, searching shelves and drawers. Pulling out a couple of rags, he assumed this drawer was yet again empty, until something reflected in his eye. He paused, slowly drawing back the last rag...

It was the knife. Fungus could tell it easily from the runes engraved into the metal. He turned it over in his hand with great care and respect - he never imagined he would hold such an important piece of Hysterian heritage. But this also meant something else. She was here. Fungus smiled. He would become Baldr's right hand man after all.

Looking up, he frowned. Harold was nowhere to be seen, Boris was busy shoving trinkets and items of value into his bag along with his best mate Bracken. Scörn had found a flint and tinder, and was making sparks next to a bale of hay. He clicked his tongue, grabbing his attention. He dropped the two objects, but the last few sparks hit the straw, setting it immediately alight.

Scörn opened the front door so they wouldn't be asphyxiated by smoke, but it was no use being stealthy now. By the time the pyromaniac had returned to spread the fire, there was a figure framing the doorway, holding a sword.

"Who are you, Intruder?"

Everyone stopped what they were doing, all staring at Kenna in the doorway with an eerie silence. Bracken suddenly roared with laughter.

"Ye just a woman! Ye think ye can take us all!" As soon as he said the word 'woman', Harold burst through the curtains of Luna's bedroom, rushing Kenna, slashing upwards with his two-handed sword, knocking the sword out of her hands. With the momentum of running he knocked Kenna out the doorway, into the middle of the road. He hadn't managed to take her to the floor, so he came in once again to do so.

Bracken scowled. "That was my kill! Kill stealer!" He ran after Harold into the street. The stealth mission had gone into chaos, just as Fungus had anticipated. An idea flashed in his mind - with the Hooligans distracted by those hooligans, he could make a safe get away.

"Come with me, quietly." He seethed at Boris. He looked at his back, then to the doorway where chaos was taking place. The viking balanced the odds, deciding to take his newfound valuables over his own life, he followed Fungus out the back door, and scarpered.

[Kenna & Fenrir]

She saw four people in there, one looting, one doing something she couldn’t quite see and two just standing there. They all looked at her, and one laughed. Kenna smiled to herself, while here odds weren’t great, they weren’t as bad as he seemed to think.

Before Kenna could make a comment to say as much, a fifth ran out of Luna’s room and rushed towards her. The attack caught her off guard so he easily disarmed her and sent back out into road.

Kenna looked at the man, he could have taken her out in that moment with ease, but he’d just disarmed her. Then she saw the look in his eyes and realised the problem…looks like we got a randy stereotype. As the man ran towards her, she took her split second decision and jumped to the right. While this guy had been fast enough to take her by surprise, when Kenna was prepared for something, she had very quick reactions.

As she moved, she quickly unstrapped her hammer and as the man turned round for a third try at sending her down, she smashed him straight in the jaw. He flew to the ground and she then turned to look at the other man that had run out as she’d been taking the first out.

He looked more like someone who’s aim was more to take her out than take her…and more likely to succeed too. He looked like he had the physique of Mr Pickles, but definitely not his positive traits. While a hammer is an effective take out weapon, it’s not effective in a battle, and her sword was on the other side of the guy.

He grabbed the first guy’s sword and blocks just as the the man’s sword goes down on her (OOC: I would guess he would be about to pounce at that moment really). She blocked as best she could the attacks, but she wasn’t used to this sword, it wasn’t well designed with a bad centre of weight.

When she got her chance, she ran to her house to get to her sword, she just got to the doorway when…(OOC: I’ll leave it there it think, I need to give you control of our battle as well, otherwise it’s not a real battle. )

[REDKITEBAIT]

OOC: I'm sorry if this is sort of bad :S I'm lacking muse.

---

Harold cried aloud as Kenna broke his jaw. It must have been the loudest that Harold had ever uttered in his life. Turning away, his clutched his face in agony. Bracken roared shoving him out the way, sending him to the floor with brute force.

Drawing his huge broadsword, he began swinging at Kenna, who was using Harold's sword. The weapon was far too big for her, only just being able to deflect attacks. He was about to strike again - this time a blow that would cut through the defense, but the woman ducked under the blow, scurrying behind him to retrieve her original weapon.

He turned round, the brute intent on slaughtering the village, starting with her, who had disrupted their mission. He never cared much for the mission, anyway. He charged, brandishing his huge sword. He swung again.

Scörn had been busy lighting the house on fire in pure delight. He spread the lit hay into all corners of the room, and all the other rooms in the house too; the bedroom and the dragon shelter. Which was also full of dry hay. The back end of the house was soon ablaze, the back entrance was now inaccessible. Clapping straw husks off his hands, he saw the Hooligan woman by the door, defending herself from Bracken's attacks.

This gave the pyromaniac an idea. Whilst they were fighting, he began to set the front entrance on fire too, with extra straw and kindling. The door was alight soon enough, and it was getting pretty smoky too. It was time to get out.

Too busy fighting, the woman didn't notice Scörn come from behind, suddenly grabbing her and throwing her into the burning house, which was quickly setting alight on the inside. He slammed the door behind him. With the front door alight, there was no real exit.

Bracken was going in for the kill again, and during the blow Scörn had acted so quickly that he missed Kenna completely - instead his sword hit skull, with a sickening crack, the pyromaniac's head was split in two like a melon... whatever they were.

He missed her - again! Scörn rightly deserved what he got for stealing his kill. With a roar he pulled the bastard sword from the man's neck, and began to hack and slash the corpse further in rage.

---

They had been running for a while now, far away from the village, back to where the Hysterian camp was supposed to be set up. They could hear the war raging in the distance, but they paid no mind to it. Getting exhausted, they slowed to a walk. Boris began to count his valuables.

"That was a good raid, don't you think, Fungus?"He asked, but he got no reply. Fungus was thinking. He was thinking mostly about his reward. His hand flitted over the handle of the knife, feeling it's intricate surface. He stopped, turning around to Boris. "Something wrong?" The selfish one asked.

Before Boris could say anything more, he had Fungus' hunter knife planted in his chest cavity. Boris dropped his belongings, clutching his chest. Fungus' expression was blank.

"W-why..." He spluttered as his knees buckled, sinking to the ground. Fungus took his knife back, making blood splatter everywhere. Wiping the blood off with a cloth, he turned away and continued without a word. He didn't want Boris' selfish nature rob him of a chance of being second-in-command to the great Baldr Bjorg himself!

Within the hour he arrived at the camp, and jogged up to Baldr's side. He stood up straight and proud, puffing his chest. His family would be so proud. He presented the Knife that symbolised the Hysterian heritage, with a stupid grin plastered on his face.

[Kenna & Fenrir]

When she got her chance, she ran to the house to grab her sword, she just got to the doorway when a hand grabbed her and threw her into the house. She slammed into the floor and swore as she heard the door close and screams from outside. She looked up and looked into the inferno that was in Luna’s back room. For a few second the she was entranced by the flames, and then her thoughts clicked back into place again.

She was in trouble… big trouble. She loved fire, but she knew this fire was going to kill her if she didn’t get out fast. She started to push herself up and then collapsed again and screamed in pain. She looked down at her hand, her wrist had been injured by her fall, whether it was broken or sprained she couldn’t tell.

She moved his weight onto her left hand and pushed herself up. Coughing, she started to walk towards the door, then stopped as she saw two things. The door was in and of itself alight, but that wasn’t the main problem. Luna’s curtain had fallen and was fully alight, meaning that the floor to the door was covered in flames.

She couldn’t go the other way now, she had to run through (Luna’s door wasn’t locked after all), but her mind was getting hazier now with all the smoke she’d inhaled (and she already had concussion from being thrown in) so she was finding it hard to walk straight anymore. She started to run to the door but her footing went and she felt the floor fly up to her face. She sort of screamed as her hand went into the fire, but she could hardly breathe now so it did come out properly.

As she started to lose consciousness, Kenna started to see a face. She knew that face wasn’t there; he was off fighting right now, so he couldn’t be here saving her. She’d feel annoyed if he was. He shouldn’t see her like this; he’d have a heart attack. She knew he cared about her a lot, and she cared about him. The last thing she remembered was something black…

[Zilyr Armia & Smokewisp]

What a mess this Island was becoming. In only a few days the population in the village had gone ballistic over this approaching enemy. This had a thoroughly negative effect him due to the fact that the villagers were on their toes and ready for invaders, making it virtually impossible to go about his thievery.  The last few days had been terrible, especially because of the ridiculous task that rickety old healer had given him. Zilyr greatly disliked this man, who seemed to have the notion that he was some kind of donkey at his beck and call ready and willing to perform any task set before him. It was indescribably irksome to the young thief.

Lately, Ari had told him to keep an eye on all the Sigmunders on Berk, particularly his niece, Kenna, for the duration of time that the hysterians were upon the isle. This had been a job Zilyr loathed. He hated having to flit around town day and night watching to make sure Ari's precious Kenna was safe. That stUpid old healer needed to lay off that woman! She was an adult and she was always hanging around some big burly fellow, who Zilyr would be wary to even approach. Kenna seemed to always be fine- and this truly was a ridiculous waste of his time. The only reason he was doing ANY of this crap was because otherwise, he went hungry.

Today seemed to be the day with the most tension though. Zilyr had a hunch that a battle was going to happen today. That theory had been confirmed not too long ago when the theif and his dragon had caught the sound of a battle horn and only just recently began to hear battle cries and the crashes of metal in the distance. 

Smokewisp was hovering stealthily in the shadowy parts of town, his rider keeping tabs on things he needed to take note of. Next they needed to check up on Kenna again. Zilyr groaned to himself her again. But he headed his dragon towards her last location to retrace her, he wanted to eat tonight so he was going to do this. 

Once the pair arrived in the last place Zilyr had spotted the woman, he quickly noticed she was not present, but not far away he saw a house on fire. His first thought and assumption was that the woman had something to do with it. A part of him just wanted to leave her there to face her foolish fate, but the other part of himself told him he would be given away to the custody of the Berk prison warden by that crazy healer if Kenna was found dead on his watch. So rather begrudgingly Zilyr headed his mount towards the fuming structure.

As the pair approached the flaming house, Zilyr quickly looked the situation over before having Smokewisp land lithely before the structure.  he remained mounted and sized up the situation before hearing the shrill scream of a woman. Kenna. Well at least he knew she was in there now. 

He saw a burned out- place that, with enough force, the night fury beneath him could charge through in order to gain entrance to the house. Zilyr tightened the belt around his waist which held his sword and bent forward, pressing to the dragon's body, becoming one with his mount. With his legs he urged the night fury forward and Smokewisp sprang into action- crashing through the flame-billowing wall. 

On the other side of the wall everything was hot as hell with smoke so dense you could put off a slice with a knife. Zilyr coughed and waved his hand around to clear enough of the wretched fumes to at least gain his bearings.

 When he could see, his eyes saw three figures- two grounded, the other standing and hacking at one of the grounded ones, tearing off various body parts in the process. The other form on the ground was smaller, a woman, Zilyr would guess. Kenna. 

He wished he could just grab her and run, but it seemed he would have to take care of the hacking bafoon, who was running at him right then. The theif thought fast, using his head. He would have to have his wits about him when facing an opponent who dwarfed him in muscle. He whipped out his sword and snaked behind the Viking, slashing the back on his legs, before recoiling and jumping back. The smoke was to his favor. Before the massive hysterian (Zilyr had noted at least by this point that this was in fact a foreigner) could see him again, he leapt forward, this time landing to the viking's face. He jabbed and dodged a blow from the opponent, coming away with only a small cut in his arm. Glancing up to observe Amy damage he might have done to the hysterian, he saw that he had given his opponent a good mess on his shoulder, Impating his fighting ability massively. The Viking roared and ran in what direction he assumed the theif was in, missing him by a foot though. The large man slid off balance on some straw. Seeing his opportunity, Zilyr used his body weight to Tip over the already unsteady hysterian. The larger man crashed to the floor with a bang and a thump. The theif took aim with his sword and drove the lethal tip into the back of the fallen opponent's neck, twisting it as grinned, waiting for the body cease movement. When the man was surely dead, Zilyr pulled the weapon out of the carcass. He had finished the hystarian.

He only had a moment to let his mind gloat over the easy victory before turning his attention back to his dragon and the woman. Smokewisp stood over Kenna, who was seemingly unconscious with some burns, obviously from the fire. Zilyr coughed, his body trying to clear his lungs of the smoke.  He made his way swiftly over to Kenna and shook her a bit in a test of her consciousness condition and upon confirming that she was in fact unconscious, he lifted her limp body with all his might. Her deadweight was heavy as well as cumbersome. 

Somehow he managed to mount his night fury and position the woman is a somewhat dignified position, lopped across his lap. The dragon took of from the burning building with haste, the structure was beginning to collapse on itself. Zilyr took a deep breath of the fresh air before contemplating what to do with the Kenna. She needed medical assistance.

Just then, it began to rain. Wonderful, he thought sarcastically. This day couldn't get much worse. He just wanted to go back to his place in the woods and for these wretched foreigners to get out of here so Berk would go back to normal! But with his luck, no such thing would happen now.

Zilyr located the place where the healers were stationed for the brewing battle. Things looked busy down there, as he flew over. Quite a fight, it was. He scowled down at it all, such a bother. He hovered a bit, staying to the shadows while he searched for an inconspicuous place to land where he could leave the woman and she could still be found. Zilyr was not going to be speaking to anyone, especially on this burdensome Kenna's account. Ari never said he had to be his niece's nursemaid. On the other hand, He certainly hoped the elderly healer would not blame him for the woman's injuries. But with his rotten luck, Ari would be in a cantankerous mood and become angry at Zilyr over Kenna's condition when he saw him next. 

Soon Zilyr found just the spot to leave the unconscious female. A place with no people behind all the healing tents. Someone would eventually venture back there and find her. In the meantime, she would get a little wet from the rain, but Zilyr barely cared. He landed quickly and disjointed his dragon. He set Kenna out on the ground and looked around to make sure no one had seen him. The place was still deserted, but not for much longer, someone would have heard something from the landing of Smokewisp, perhaps. 

And with that, The theif, his work done with Kenna in the hands on the healers, took off once again on the black-scaled dragon. They made their way to their home in the deep of the forest, there was nothing more he could do for Kenna now.

[PIME2]

(OOC: This is more a closure thing for Furgus, I'll make a new thread for Baldr's main line.)

“A hunter’s coming,” Baldr looked up from his maps, “Where from?” Baldr looked in the direction she said and then walked towards there, if it was Furgus he wanted it to just be the two of them.

He told those around him he was going to go through the forest to join the fray further up and ran towards where the spy would be. He hadn’t gotten far into the forest when He saw Furgus. He slowed to a stop as the hunter came to him and showed him the knife. He took it from the man’s hands and examined it. It was exactly how he remembered it, every detail…She was here.

“Tell me everything,” Baldr said, and Furgus explained all he could about how he found it and was in the house he found it in. He said about how it seemed to be a healers place, and that dragons seemed to go there a lot. And he also gave him a name…Luna…

“Well done, You’ve done a great job Furgus, I which there were more people like you in our camp, it seems you were the only one to come back."

“Or the only one allowed back,” Rags muttered and Baldr smiled. He really would have been perfect…same…

“I’m Sorry,” the Furgus looked at him in confusion, and before he had time to react, Baldr stabbed the knife upwards into his head, “You’re a credit to what I need to make Hysteria and you’d probably make a great second to me, but unfortunately I can’t risk you living.”

As his spy fell to the ground, he wiped the blood off the knife then looked out, into the crowds. She was here; He thought to himself, She was here.

“But how are you going to get to her?" Rags asked.

Baldr thought to himself and then smiled, Luna. He started to, it looked like it was time to put his plan into action. He just had to hope his gambit would work.

[Kenna & Fenrir]

Kenna kept slipping in and out of consciousness. She was badly hurt…she knew that much, but she couldn’t feel it really…not right now. She could feel the wind going through her hair and the water hitting her. She could tell she was flying, but for once it didn’t bother her. She was too out of it to care. She knew it was raining, but it felt more like relief than annoying, helping her burns not feel so bad. She just…

She was fully aware now, sitting on a bench. She looked around; everyone was walking past her, ignoring her. She called out to one of them, but they didn’t notice her. Why couldn’t they notice her? She started to wave, and then noticed her hand. It was gone. It had been removed because of the damage caused from the burns.

The implications behind that then sunk in. it was her right hand that had been damaged, her good arm. With it gone, she was useless as a blacksmith. Sure she could get some prosthetic, but it was her good arm and prosthetics wouldn’t be an effective replacement. It wasn’t like we had any good blacksmiths right now apart from her, and even she was merely adept in the work. If she was unable to do her job properly, what could she really go?

The thought scared her, because it had always been the main thing she had been brought up to do. And all the other things sort of required her good arm…which made them pointless. She looked up and saw Him. He was walking by and looked at Kenna, only for a second. She could see a look of sadness…a look of rejection. Then he continued on as if she wasn’t there.

Kenna tried to say something, but her mouth was frozen, how could he? She could feel the tears coming down her face, or where they rain drops?

Her mind was ignoring the fact that they wouldn’t be like that, Pickle wouldn’t be like that…but then you forget the obvious when you’re dreaming…

“Kenna!” She open her eyes slightly, Ari was over her. She was in a tent…when did she get in a tent? “Kenna,” he smiled lightly as her eyes opened, “You’re safe girl, I’ll fix you. What happened?”

(OOC: I will do a Ari post next, but if you want to make last responces for Furgus and Bracken, you can do them first, I want to post my Ari thoughts in order.)

[REDKITEBAIT]

Through the billowing smoke pouring out cracks in the door, Bracken was too busy taking his anger on a now bloodied, gory mess that was once Scörn's dead body. He suddenly heard a noise, swiveling on the spot in case something was sneaking up on him. No.. the noise was coming from in the burning house. He growled, gritting his teeth together and he pushed the burning door open with his boot.

He saw a huge, dark mass in the middle of the room. A dragon! If Bracken had known what a Night Fury looked like; he would have already fled the scene. He grinned, getting a better grip on his bastard sword. He would slay the dragon. Picking up his pace, he raised the sword above his head when suddenly something sliced into his calf muscles, make him lose his balance in shock to the pain. Turning around, he saw something small quickly lunge at him through the shadows - Bracken wasn't quick enough to behead the mysterious figure, but felt the tip of his sword touch flesh. He squinted through the smoke, feeling his own warm liquid ooze from his shoulder. In berserk mode, the pain only fueled his rage.

Running into the fumes, where he thought he saw something, but lost his footing under some straw, something from behind pushing him to the ground. Before he knew it, something cold ran through his neck, causing excruciating pain, something he had never truly experience. Before he could scream, his attacker had twisted the sword in his neck, severing the spinal cord in the process. Bracken was dead.