Seeking Andvaranaut (Einor and Ash)

[Einor Oathsblood]

Einor Oathsblood wandered East in the land of Northumbria, having sequestered the first item to ensure his revenge, a sword of mighty origins. It was in this place that he came upon a ruin, a remnant of the people who once ruled this land before the Saxons. While Einor knew little of these people before, he wondered how a people weak enough to fall to the puny Saxons could have ever ruled a land. He thought about this for only a moment before he realized that he was quite lost in this land, having only been given a direction in order to find the sword of his vengeance and to where he would find his uncle but that was little help. He went about preparing a place to rest and warm himself, finding what dry branches he could to build a fire.

On the raised piece of ground within the crumbling walls of the ruin, he laid upon his wolf fur near the fire. Before too long, with his sword sheathed by his hand, he fell asleep and his dream began that of his father, leading him through the woods, "Are you lost, boy?" His father asked and Einor could only nod his head. He was confused by this visit from his ancestor in a dream for a moment although, all came more clear when his father's visage morphed into that of the Spirit of Norn with her crow-feather headdress. She spoke to him, gripping his hand out in front, before dragging a knife across his palm, opening his flesh, "Seek out the volva and the true of heart, she will lead you to the Ring of Sigurd." Einor knew the legend of Sigurd who had slain Fafner but knew not how a ring was to help him. As his blood pooled at his feet, dripping from his hand, it moved and coagulated to resemble a chart, one he had seen, the island of the Vestmenn. He awoke suddenly and his sword found his hand, ringing as it leapt from it's sheath but he was alone... He thought of his dream through the pounding in his skull, He would go to the Ostmen settlement in Vestmenn lands on the morrow. Einor laid his sword across his chest and fell back asleep, this time not plagued by dreams or portents.

At first light Einor set out east until he met with the shore, A Danish trading post, Austshiere, would be sending boats across the gap daily with many supplies. He would barter passage for work on one of these ships. It wasn't hard to find a ship to hire such a large fellow and he took to rowing his way to the neighboring island. Once in the Ostmen village of Caulfshiere, he sought out the Volva through talking to the townspeople and set off into the wood to find a cottage in the wood. Making sure his weapons were secure and with the wolf's head of his cloak upon his shoulder instead of his head, as to appear less intimidating, he pounded on the door one one of his large fists.

[Aislinge Ó Braonáin]

Seeking Andvaranaut

w/ Einor Oathsblood

• A light gasp pushed through her full lips. The world started to tilt. •

Her hands worked through the herbs as they always had with practice and purpose. The green leaves of the different plants had now blended together with the flower petals and a beautiful and earthy aroma lightly filled the space around her, the natural oils enhancing the smell which would likely stick to her for days. That never bothered Aislinge though. Who didn't want to smell like the wood when she was first blossoming from the cold months of a harsh winter? She would bathe in it if she could, but what she was making now was not for her. With any amount of luck, she and her mother would make some coin in the market for this and plenty of the other colorful vials of varying oils, herbs, and other bits they could sell.    

The light of the morning shone through the window glass and along the table bench to help Aislinge work. Of course her mother had always insisted on having nothing but natural rays of sunshine aiding in their processes. She said nature would and should always lend a hand in anything they did, but Ash knew it also helped save coin on having to keep purchasing more candles in the market. Every little bit of payment helped and they were in more trouble than her mother cared to admit. Yes, they provided for themselves very well having a garden, tools, a few animals, and magic, but the latter didn't just fix and bring forth everything one needed. 

The worry lines creased her brow as she thought about how the last few months had been particularly difficult. Moreso, the growing relationship with the baron which made ice crawl through her skin just thinking of him. Aislinge knew what his continuous wandering eyes wanted from her in return for coin, knowing how desperate she was. She had only done it the one time... 

Her head began to swim. Ash had been so caught up in her thoughts, she realized she was likely overworking her mixture. Perhaps the scent was a bit strong because she suddenly stumbled a step having to reach out to grab the worn wooden table for balance. The ice that had been there before when thinking of the baron turned to heat as if she were burning from the inside. A light gasp pushed through her full lips. The world started to tilt. In the haziness, she saw the door swing open and her mother rushing to her side. Aislinge heard the other woman calling to her, speaking with concern etched on her features, but it was absolute silence. Then, the vision.

Some time later and Ash was seated near the stone hearth. Her mother had wrapped her in a blanket and offered some water from the stream out back. Just as hot as she was when the vision happened, she felt frozen when it ended. And it wasn't the first time. "Yes, it was the stranger again. His face is blurred. Someone I haven't seen in the village. A deep forest. Wide river. A cave... Something calling to me..." Aislinge stared at the jumping flames, seeming to be far away in some attempts at remembering the details of what her mind tried to tell her. A moment of quiet passed before she turned to look at her mother, pushing her long inky hair behind her ears. The worry seemed to be permanent on the elder's face. The visions were more frequent and always the same, vague flashes. "Máthair, please. I'm alright. You needn't be so afraid."

"I'm always afraid for you. You're my daughter, Aislinge." The woman sighed with a hint of a smile, but the concern was still ever present in her eyes. "Get some rest for now. We'll go later to the market and..." Her mother suddenly stopped mid-sentence and turned towards the door.

Aislinge's gaze followed to where her mother looked. The door was shut and looked as it always did with an odd angle in which you needed to lift it slightly when closing. "Máthair? What is it?"

"Someone comes." And a loud banging shortly followed.

Aislinge was up and hurrying passed her mother before she had the chance to react. She knew it would have to be someone that wouldn't be one of their regulars such as the women who desperately sought after a husband in hopes of some magical solution the two could give. The blanket she wore fell slightly over her bare and slender shoulders as she pulled open the door, her dark eyes widening. There, a tall fair man stood who was no one she'd seen in the small village before. It was quite easy to see the hardened expression of a warrior that he likely could not hide if he tried. Her eyes moved from his face to the wolf's head which sat on his shoulder, making Aislinge sink slightly behind the door as if it could somehow protect her. Her next words came a little stronger to prove she wasn't feeling somewhat uneasy by him when in fact she was. "Yes? What is it you want?" She dared to meet his gaze again and then the recognition began to pool over her mind like flowing water over stones. The hazy outline of the stranger in her visions started to come in ever so clearer until this man's face, which she knew so well now, fit perfectly. 

[Einor Oathsblood]

As the door swung open, Einor found himself staring down at a pale-skinned waif, a blanket barely covering her shoulders. She was obviously not the Volva he was searching for but you never showed disrespect to the ones who could pierce the veil or their servants, "Is the Volva here?" he asked simply, he used a mixture of the Saxon tongue and his own, sounding like the roll of thunder before a storm as it washed over the fjord. Upon seeing her look of recognition he balked a bit and furrowed his brows at her with a searching scowl. 

Unsure of her intent, Einor lowered his head below the jamb to look within the hut. It wasn't hard to surmise that he was in the right place with the plethora of paraphernalia that he was used to seeing in the home of a volva. As the son of a king once upon a time, Einor had visited such places before, as his father swore on the words of the seers and mad-women. They were always sprouting prophecy for the common folk and kings alike, blessed few were those that could decipher their ramblings though, as Einor could recall. As a boy, he recalled never being able to understand the riddles of the gods and this would likely be the same. If the volva could guide him to the 'true of heart' the spiritguide had told him about without riddles, he would be lucky.

When he set eyes on the older woman in the cottage, he bowed his head in respect, "The spirits sent me, I seek a powerful item, one that will help me fulfill an oath." He was prepared to let her cut his hand or pluck a tooth from his head if that would bring about the visions, he recalled many rituals in his father's time that required these little offerings.

[Aislinge Ó Braonáin]

Seeking Andvaranaut

w/ Einor Oathsblood

☽ Aislinge thought she was going mad. ☾

Aislinge's mouth parted open as the shock of it all came down on her. Her blood started pumping harder and breathing was now something she actually had to concentrate on. Still, she couldn't help but stare at the stranger who now was at their doorstep because it suddenly meant it was all real. Everything Ash was seeing in the visions was somehow connected to her and this man and it caused a confusing array of emotions that seemed to be fighting for her attention.

However, it seemed the visitor had no intention of standing around for her to figure it out since the lack of an answer to his request had caused his thinning patience to dissipate. Aislinge was nearly knocked back as the man peered into the home, gripping the blanket around her shoulders tighter as well as grasping the door as not to stumble. Once his request was said aloud again, Aislinge's brow knitted together in confusion. Her gaze went from him to her mother who was also looking between them both.

"You announce this as if you are owed anything by us," Ash replied, her neck craning up towards the man, however that didn't mean her mind wasn't racing again by his words, even if she didn't outwardly show it. The hushed voices that seemed to call to her in the visions had also been there when she'd be doing the most mundane of things. It felt like they were in the same room. Just behind her, whispering in her ears. Aislinge thought she was going mad and from anyone looking while she whipped her head around, when in fact nothing was there, would likely come to the same conclusions then.

"Come inside."

Aislinge's eyes widened at her mother's invitation. The passing look the elder gave her proved there was no point in arguing the matter and so she pushed the heavy door closed before crossing the open space. Their home was only three rooms, two of which were far smaller than the one in which they did nearly everything else in during their daily routines. One of the others was a very small nook of shelving that held an assortment of items including, fabrics, tomes, scrolls, herbs, tools, and many other implements a mystic home would need. The second was just big enough for two small cots and a dresser for clothing, yet Aislinge would normally find herself sleeping on the floor of their largest room in a pile of blankets. It was where she sat now while she gazed at the jumping flames in the hearth and inevitably scrutinizing the visitor in stolen glances.

"That is quite a mouthful, boy," her mother started, gesturing towards a wooden chair in which he could sit in. One that was likely too small for him to fit in properly. There was nothing boyish about him. The idea this man had ever been a carefree child seemed absurd. Aislinge wouldn't be surprised if the Gods themselves spit him out just as he was, a Viking warrior. Of course, her mother had always called anyone younger than she such, no matter what roads they may have walked in life. "Why don't you explain to us more about this oath and what the spirits told you you would find here with us."

[Einor Oathsblood]

Soaked in the blood of Fafnir.

Nested in his large hand, rings, medallions, coins and other manner of valuable cast in gold and silver

Einor was wary as he entered the small cottage but not of the waif as she retreated to a pile of blanket upon the floor in the room, He did not like to deal with witches and seers on principle. One never knew what might show them disrespect and when they wielded the powers of the gods, one might end up leaving the volva's house in another form such as a frog or newt. He had heard such tales told in plenty. He always hoped the boy that bullied him in the village would meet such a fate one day, living the rest of his days as a slug or something else. He recalled when he told his father of this wish and gotten a clout upon the ear for dreaming up such a fairytale solution instead of handling it like a Viking. This brought a bit of a grimace to his face, recalling the memory but he was quick to hide it in the presence of the volva.

He walked over to the offered chair and did his best to lower himself into it, moving in a measured pace. The chair was quite small for him and caused his knees to nearly reach his chin. Her words, calling him a boy, while he bit his tongue from retorting, suddenly felt quite boyish as the only comfortable way to sit in the small chair was to wrap his hands around his knees and hunch his back so that he could look more level with the Volva. Now seated, he began, slowly in the language of the Saxons, "I seek the Ring of Sigurd. Soaked in the blood of Fafnir, the... ormslíki." he reverted to Old Norse for the word as he struggled with it, "Give me power to avenge... konungr." his mouth losing the language of the Saxons once more, "The True of Heart would lead me."

As he finished what he had formulated in the unfamiliar tongue, as best as he could, he offered his hand out to the older woman, hoping she would understand enough of what he said in order to grant him his visions, "Vinnþinnr magic, wise víf, ok þú munu munu rewardeð." He reached into the burlap sack that rode his hip and brought forth a handful of small objects. Upon holding out his hand, both women could see, nested in his large hand, rings, medallions, coins and other manner of valuable cast in gold and silver. Easily enough to fill two hands of the older woman and nearly three of the waif's hands. He hoped this was sufficient payment. If not, he would have to think quickly a better way to compensate them for this important endeavor.

[Aislinge Ó Braonáin]

Seeking Andvaranaut

w/ Einor Oathsblood

☽ Aislinge thought she was going mad. ☾

Aislinge watched as the stranger attempted to find the words in which to explain why he'd sought them out specifically. Her brow knitted together as he stumbled over his thoughts, moving in and out of his own language. Even so, the message she did understand was one in which he was looking for some kind of revenge. She didn't rightly know how a ring could somehow help him in the matter. Perhaps it was a powerful talisman of his people. They of course had their own incredible legends, many of their most magical pieces coming from the Gods.

Her eyes cut to her mother then. The woman was studying him closely. Aislinge knew the look well enough to see that she wanted to uncover if he was speaking truth, but if this was some kind of ruse, the brute could've shown his hand already. Ash had the feeling if he wanted to, he could've tried to threaten them into doing what he wanted, but her mother wouldn't go down so easily. Perhaps he wasn't such a fool then. 

When the man reached for the bag attached to his hip, her interest piqued. What he produced was beyond what she had imagined. The varying gold and silver pieces would save their home for months to come. Possibly years. She wouldn't have to find her way to the door of the baron in hopes to not be thrown from their meager hut. 

The two women exchanged telling glances then before her mother spoke to the Viking. "You should be speaking to my daughter then." Her proud smile seemed to make the room glow then as she looked to her prodigy.

"Mother..." Aislinge looked down to the wooden planks of their floor and pulled the blanket closer around her shoulders as if to hide in her hesitancy, before glancing back up to the man.

"It is she you seek," her mother continued before the smile seemed to fade slightly as worry took its place. "She saw you coming. The Gods have weaved together a path for you both to meet on, it seems. Her visions have showed her a road to unfamiliar places with a stranger which apparently seems to be you. Perhaps now that you are here, we can enhance what she is seeing."

Ash bit the inside of her lip softly as the worry creeped inside of her. She already knew her mother would want to help in clearing the fog of her visions with magic even if the man hadn't offered payment if only to help her daughter's abilities grow. The elder moved towards the cupboard and began to pull down many ingredients in which to use for the spell. Aislinge wanted nothing more than to be rid of the disruptive prophecies, but the curiosity was nagging at her now. She wanted to see the visions clearly and what the path would lead to after having being shown the incomplete flashes for so long.

She tentatively rose from the floor and walked over to the stranger. Clutching the blanket that still draped over her, Aislinge reached out for his hand. The smell of the herbs being burned and the low chanting of her mother was already weaving its way through her mind, the magic working its way over her. "Think of your path. What the Gods showed you. Your purpose," Ash instructed him, taking his much larger hand into hers. "It will help guide me."

Her lids were heavy. She was weightless. Her eyes finally closed and all she felt was their connected hands before she was thrusted into darkness.