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Post by Fálki Pórbrandr on Jul 7, 2011 15:37:18 GMT -5
With so many tribes coming together some of us had made homesteads near one another, living as something that was a bit more unified than we had in the past. This brought some advantages, just as Eirik had said it would, and while there were of course downsides to it as well I was the second in command and that was no small thing. My children had more people to look after them, and when they came of age that would mean more choices for brides and grooms as well. We could work together on fields and homes and when one of us needed help another might do so.
But then the d'Angelines with their nosy ways had started sniffing around, wondering what we were doing and making their idle threats about remembering the past. Then they'd started to try and sneak among us as though they could look like a Skaldi. It hadn't worked.
Trussed up tightly I had in the back of a wagon a spy, one of their d'Angeline soldiers who hadn't been able to pull off his ruse, like always. This one, though, was not going to get away without telling us what was going on. Roughly lifting him I carried him over my shoulder to a small hut set outside of the town and had my men prepare him while I went looking for one of the newcomers, a half-angel whelp who seemed willing enough to do as he ought. He'd be needed in this situation.
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Post by Kai “Ill-Begotten” Ungewollt on Jul 7, 2011 17:42:07 GMT -5
I'd heard there was a raid, but I hadn't been told to go. As usual, when that happened, I was content to stay out of it, to write out the tale of the last I'd participated in. I always felt like a liar, when I wrote those epic verses, blowing feats and foes out of proportion, until they because greater than life and greater than me.
But the process made everything more bearable, too. It made me feel like everything was... justified, somehow. Even if it was a lie.
I was trying to find a nice tune to it, long fingers on the harp, when footsteps warned me of a visitor, and I started to put it away on instinct, standing at the ready, for whoever it was approaching.
Eirik's right hand man – I knew his face and name, for he was hard to miss in meetings. This seemed to be... important.
“Aye?” Was all I offered – my body language was probably enough to tell him I was ready to answer.
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Post by Fálki Pórbrandr on Jul 11, 2011 18:45:06 GMT -5
The newcomer was a bard, and therefore one of the few who could get away with not being warriors full-time as much of the rest of us were. It was probably also due to his half-d'Angeline heritage but as far as I was concerned that made no difference. He might have had their weak stomach for some of our customs but he kept up anyway and that was proof of his strong Skaldi blood, bastard though it may have been. Enough of the men I'd known in my life couldn't guarantee their heritage and turned out well enough so it made very little difference to me.
"You're Kai?" I asked in a warm tone, though it was still slightly gruff from the hurry I was in as well as what was going to have to be done soon. "One of those d'Angelines tried to pass as one of us and slip inside our border, but he was caught and you're needed to make him talk." I'd learned where this man's skills lay and there was likely no need to say any more. "We're in the cabin at the village edge if you're ready."
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Post by Kai “Ill-Begotten” Ungewollt on Jul 11, 2011 19:59:58 GMT -5
Ah, so he needed a favor. Velvet over steel, perhaps, to make sure I would remain loyal. That was a new technique. Or perhaps not so new – this was a new clan, they had other ways.
I nodded at the explanation, and finished putting my harp away, stifling a sigh. A man – that at least I could stomach long enough to keep up the pretense of being one with the tribe. How long could I hold?
Long enough, I hoped.
“I'm ready,” I replied evenly. “Let's see what this D'angeline scum has to say.”
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Post by Fálki Pórbrandr on Jul 11, 2011 20:09:13 GMT -5
The man seemed somewhat reluctant to put away his music and begin, but that was somewhat to be expected, since bards had to keep their fingers to their strings most of the time. They were warriors though and when he finally did put down his instrument I gave him a rough smile and stepped back so he'd have more space to rise. "Good man," I replied steadily, giving no hint that I understood some rough d'Angeline myself. It would be better to see if this man really knew what he was about or not.
Once he'd stood I started toward the cabin again, keeping my pace steady and trusting him to keep up with me. The man was a good bit younger than myself but not so much that he could have been my son, which was probably for the best considering his parentage. I didn't think I had any half-angel bastards running around but you never could be sure. "How are you faring so far in the village?" I asked conversationally, for though the walk was a short one I wasn't going to be stern the entire way.
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Post by Kai “Ill-Begotten” Ungewollt on Jul 12, 2011 20:17:39 GMT -5
Falki seemed to care little about my parentage – or if he did, he was polite about it, and didn't call me a name. Well then. Then gain, I suppose when one wants a job done by a bee, best to attract it with honey.
I nodded and followed in long strides, steeling myself for what was to come. I'd once been asked how I could stand to do what I did, to be what I was. The answer had come naturally: I knew no better way, or state.
“Well enough,” I replied shortly. I didn't mention that the chief's sister had a strange interest in me, or that I fed captives from my hunt. That was my business, and irrelevant to the task at hand.
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Post by Fálki Pórbrandr on Jul 15, 2011 20:52:59 GMT -5
The man didn't seem very inclined to talk, but that was the way of some men and I wasn't going to pry past trying to make pleasant conversation. So long as he wasn't seeming inclined to go on a rampage or run away to the enemy he was safe to be left to his own devices and given the same respect as every other man in the camp. "Very well then," I said in a sedate tone, letting the silence get a bit more comfortable.
Before long we were at the shack where one of my men stood outside and I gave him a nod, at which he moved from in front of the door and I pulled it open to allow us in. Strapped to a chain in the center of the room was a d'Angeline man in fur clothing like we Skaldi usually wore but more crudely made, as though whoever had crafted it wasn't really sure how the fur should be used, his lip swollen and eye black though the rest of him was mostly undamaged. Along the walls were tables with various things, though with the way the man was tied with his hands behind him there wasn't much to worry on.
As I stepped into the room I moved to one side so Kai could walk in after me and watched the two. "We need to know what the d'Angelines are planning along the border," I said quietly in Skaldi to the half-angel young man.
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Post by Kai “Ill-Begotten” Ungewollt on Jul 15, 2011 21:03:57 GMT -5
This was the moment I disliked – but I had to do it – I knew little else of how my life could go on, if I did not.
And so I nodded, careful not to sigh, and steeled myself to the task. In a quiet step, I was behind the man, my hand knotted in his hair, and I tugged, only a little, a short promise of what might come if he did not comply.
“What are you doing so close to our lands?” I hissed in his ear in my heavily accented D'Angeline. I tugged, harder. “Answer.”
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Post by Fálki Pórbrandr on Jul 16, 2011 12:51:30 GMT -5
There was a tension in the room but I wasn't going to let it worry me overly much, though it was somewhat unusual- but then the man was a bard, a tale-keeper, and that made him a craftsman of sorts, though there was a good deal of a warrior nature in that job as well. Who would want to read an epic written by someone who hadn't been in the battle to see it?
To his credit the d'Angeline simply let his head be yanked back and glowered, eyes flashing with was probably more spirit than these people ever usually showed. Then he actually managed to mutter something about 'barbarian scum' but I only stared at him a bit more intently and stepped closer to the chair he was sitting in before glancing at Kai. "Tell him he would be smart to answer or things will get much worse," I requested gruffly.
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Post by Kai “Ill-Begotten” Ungewollt on Jul 16, 2011 13:38:47 GMT -5
Instead of tugging at the soldier's hair, I shifted my hand to his ear, and placed my thumb on the knob of cartilage near the shell of his ear. I pressed, just a little.
“Answer,” I insinuated, in a tone that was sickly sweet. “Or your next meal will be pig's ears.” With that, I pushed my thumb unto that knob of half-hard flesh, hard, ruthlessly. He was annoying me, now. I'd have to be... harsher.
“I'm being gentle,” I said. “Do you truly want to know how harsh I can be?”
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Post by Fálki Pórbrandr on Jul 18, 2011 19:48:18 GMT -5
This d'Angeline was stubborn and I could see the way the interrogator moved from being merely present to working himself up, almost as though the more effort the soldier put him to the more willing he was to use greater force. Well, no one liked being called away from their real job to put a man through his paces though I'd heard of other d'Angelines who enjoyed hurting people as their way to pleasure. And they called us savages.
Again the d'Angeline man seemed disinclined to talk but the pain to his ear made him flinch and groan slightly, and I looked at Kai to see if he'd gotten any more from him than I had. I didn't doubt that he'd be willing to talk at some point but the more work he put us to the less chance he'd be given back alive once this was all over, or even penned with the other captured men. Some things were unavoidable though.
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Post by Kai “Ill-Begotten” Ungewollt on Jul 18, 2011 23:25:15 GMT -5
I sighed, as that apparently was not enough, and nonchalantly backhanded the man, hard enough to split his lip.
“You're making me angry,” I said lighty. “You don't want to make me angry, D'Angeline. I will make you cry, if I must. Even your mother won't recognize you.”
The man tried to spit in my face, it only reached my hand. “Skaldi scum. Your mother will be ashamed of you. Aren't you half-D'Angeline yourself? What was she, a whore, raped to breed you?”
Oh, I didn't like that. In fact, I liked it so little, that I punched him in the face once, then in the gut.
“Don't anger me further,” I said slowly, once I'd panted my fury. I reached down, then, and planted my knife in the man's foot, effectively nailing it to the ground. He screamed, then.
“I can remove it,” I said, “and it can heal. Or I can slice open, and you will never walk again. The choice is yours, D'Angeline.”
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Post by Fálki Pórbrandr on Jul 23, 2011 13:13:32 GMT -5
His methods were abrupt, to the point, but effective, and the man screamed as the knife penetrated his foot through the boot. A good, stout Skaldi blade never had any trouble with leather though. The man's screams were in his native language but I couldn't understand them with the high-pitched squeals in between, so I simply let Kai continue his work unheeded. I trusted that the man knew what information we needed and what was useless, and to at least translate successfully while remaining honest. That didn't mean I'd stop checking what I knew against what he said though.
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Post by Kai “Ill-Begotten” Ungewollt on Sept 25, 2011 17:14:12 GMT -5
I knew after this, I'd need to lock up and play my harp for nights and nights to cleanse my soul – Ase, I hated the smell of blood. My face and eyes were stoney as the man screamed, and I waited until he became coherent, and translated as he spoke.
“He knows nothing,” I said evenly, “he comes from Eisande. He was on the way back from Marsilikos.” He paused, then, panting, and I put my hand back on the knife. “Nothing, aye?” I growled in D'Angeline. “Nothing, really?”
“No, no, please,” the man said again, “Go to my village, take my wife, take the gold under the bed, please.”
I translated, voice still even.
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