The Curse of Brisingamen [Astrid, Vestein, Einor, Dante & Special Guests]

[Astrid Winther - Council]

THE CURSE OF BRISINGAMEN

Blood will be cursed, when porcelain skin is decorated with amber and gold.

Despite having a heavy connection with the Gods, their lives and their stories had always remained a mystery. What the Valkyrie knew of them was only a smidge more than the average human; The Gods only shared what they wanted, if they wanted to at all. Despite being a vital part in the management of souls, the Valkyrie and The Gods remained acquaintances and nothing more. Thus, the stories of Freyja were nothing but whispers, stories with variants, as each village, each settlement believed something different; even her winged daughters knew very little about what actually happened to their Goddess - Odin made sure of that. After finding out that The Gypsies did not have her wings, only made Astrid more cautious and doubtful of the words which left Odin’s mouth. If he lied about that, and consequently created a war between the Valkyrie and The Gypsies, what else could he do?

The Valkyrie toyed with the idea of trying to find other belongings of her Goddess to find answers, and perhaps if the Goddess was still alive, bring her home. Astrid continued to spin a ring around her finger as she stared into deep space - contemplating what her next move would be. Luca and herself discussed at length about the Wings and what they were to do in order to find them; however, it would be naive to believe that they were the only things holding answers. Throughout the limited stories they held close to their hearts, Freyja had a series of belongings, ranging from diary texts to jewelry to clothing; each and every belonging would hold meaning to Astrid and her Winged Sisters, and even the people of Kattegat, but she would need to narrow down which item would be worth her time at this point. With an exaggerated sigh, she pushed herself away from the throne chair in the Grand Hall and moved through the hustling streets in order to seek an audience with The Seer.

“An oath is just as important as blood. Blood will be cursed, when porcelain skin is decorated with amber and gold.”

The Seer shared.

Astrid was well aware that she could no longer push The Seer to give her more answers to what she sought; however, as she stood in silence looking out over the port of Kattegat she knew what she needed to do. She needed to find the brisingamen of Freyja despite having absolutely no idea on where she could start. Astrid contemplated where to start, and no better than to discuss this with Ivarr, her younger brother.

“Oath is important as blood” He repeated the riddle over a horn of a strong spirit; his feet kicked up on the table. “An Oath is as important as blood. Are you sure that is what he said?” Astrid gave her brother a look. “Fine. Fine” Ivarr muttered. “We are blood with our cousin, Vest. He clearly needs to be with you on this journey.” As he spoke, Ivarr was slightly saddened that it would not be him going on this journey; however, he knew in Astrid’s absence, he would step up. “Familial blood and the literal blood he needs to survive.”

“But what of an Oath?” Astrid took a swig and glanced upward to wave a servant girl to fill up their horns. The Siblings sat in silence for a long while as they both contemplated the riddle which rang behind their eyes on a continuous loop. “Oath and blood. Didn’t Torvi speak of a family with the name Oathsblood?”

Ivarr boomed with laughter. “You’re not just a pretty face! You’ll need to trek up to Hrandel to seek an audience.”

Astrid nodded slowly, easily done. Her Valkyrie blood alone would seek her audience with the Jarl. “Done, and done. And the curse, that could be one thing or everything” She sighed.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Are you ready, Vestein?” She knocked upon his door. “Hrandel is a few days away at best so get your drunken ass up and kick whatever woman you have in your bed, out.” Astrid grinned as he walked out of his hut with a grunt.

The two cousins embarked on their journey to Hrandel.

To find the brisingamen; come what may. .

[Vestein Winther]

✧ The curse of Brisingaman ✧

Astrid had come to him the night before telling him of the seer word. ( “An oath is just as important as blood. Blood will be cursed, when porcelain skin is decorated with amber and gold.”) He also was not shocked that Astrid had managed to figure out most of the words on her own leading to their next adventure which would be traveling to Hrandel. Of course she asked him to go with her instead of demanding it but he also would never let her go on such a mission alone. To celebrate the trip they would be going on he tossed back a few.

When Astrid came knocking upon his door he gave an easy roll of his eyes. Since his change, alcohol only affected him in excess, so he was ready to go. He had also not taken a lover since the change of fear of losing himself if a minor cut where to happen. So he was out the door and grunted towards his cousin as the pair mounted their horses. One day they rode in silence and he looked over towards his cousin as he muttered. “Did I ever tell you about the time when I was a young lad and I pissed off the leader of Hrandel?” He gave a smirk towards her.

“Hopefully I don’t look the same.” He gave a laugh. As the days passed the travel went smooth enough they both were too skilled to be messed with. Small back and forth talk filled the void of the journey till at last they arrived to Hrandel. “So Oathsblood is who we are looking for?” He asked as they made their way towards the hut of the leader. Entering the flap he stood beside Astrid as his gaze moved along the people in the hut. “We seek someone named Oathsblood for a venture.” He spoke to the room to see if anyone perked up.

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As the pair of Viking warriors entered the hut, they found themselves amidst a celebration. Horns of mead were held aloft accompanied by cheers and chants, "Skol!" The king that they sought was a thick warrior with a long white beard, braided down to his belly, a bald pate and weather worn face. If not for the sword laid across his lap in his strong grip, they might have mistaken him for an elder not capable of fighting any longer. At the mention of Oathsblood, the room became overcome with howls from all around, berserkers called out to their own and with one mighty shout, the old king brought them to silence, "You seek Oathsblood? He stands out in the back fields, celebrating victory in his own way." and with that, he pointed his sword towards the back door from the hut.

Outside, one large man with filthy blonde hair trailing down his back, sat alone upon a stump, lifting a mead horn to his lips in silence. Nearby on a spear stabbed into the ground hung the hide of a wolf that had been shaped into a cloak. This man was a berserker and wore the skin of a wolf in battle. He would be a worthy addition to any group upon a mission so dire.

As the pair approached and called out to him, the large man would stand and turn on his heel, "You search for Oathsblood. You found him. Einor is my name and I would like to know your names." He was a larger man than most and likely wild in nature, "If you seek to contract my help, be warned that I am fierce." He took the last swig of his horn and tossed it to the ground then turned to lift the wolf cloak from it's perch. His free hand would settle on the bearded ax hanging in his belt, "What is your quest?" He asks finally.

[Dante Tristan Wayland]

THE CURSE OF Brísingamen

w/ Astrid, Vestein, and Einor

• Vengeance is my purpose now. •

"Please! Please!! Take me back!!" Dante was tired of the man sniveling in his grasp as his fist tightened on the shredded rag of a shirt that covered the prisoner's back and shoved him forward without another word. It had cost him a great deal of coin to get the murderer from the jailor and it surprised him at all that the man had lasted as long as he did being that his choice of slaughter had been two children. Dante had decided he didn't need to know the rest of the man's story and his cowardly act was enough for his future purpose. 

They had gone deep in the woods now. The sky was splashed with the colors of dusk that trickled through the limbs of the tall forest, his face aglow with the deep oranges and yellows of the setting sun. The very few villagers who decided to engage with Dante reluctantly pointed the path in silence and said nothing more as their haunted faces looked to him as if he were asking for death. 

He followed the tracks of other men's boots that were depressed within the earth and knew he was on the right track. The woods grew more silent as they were far from the village now, beyond the still wailing man that accompanied him at the end of his blade. The swordsman couldn't have asked for better bait and it appeared he was right as the familiar, young woman came from seemingly nowhere. This finally silenced the prisoner who fell to his knees to gawk at her nude form while she circled them slowly with a grin that could only belong to creatures of evil that cloaked themselves in beauty. Eventually she approached Dante from behind, her slender fingers gliding across his shoulders before speaking lowly in his ear. "You kept your word."

Dante ignored this. "Where is the sword?" A coy smile etched along her face as she moved to him, her long, fair hair cascading down her back to tickle at her ankles. He knew better as to why her hair was kept so long; To hide the tell-tale markings of her kind. Her fingers slipped across his jawline, making him angle his head away, seeing the prisoner still staring with his mouth agape. Dante glared at her. "Where, huldra?" 

Calling her by her true kind's name only seemed to amuse the creature more. She stepped closer and pressed herself against him, her hand trailing over his chest and resting atop where his heart sat. He could almost feel her tail swishing in amusement of the game she played. "It's a shame you don't want to stay here with us. Having you around till the end of days would be rather... enjoyable." Dante's jaw locked as he held her gaze without falter. This apparently ruined her toying mood. "A cave," she answered shortly, stepping away from him. "The sword you seek is in a cave." The huldra moved to the prisoner then. She gripped the man's chin and guided him to his feet as he completely folded within her touch. It wouldn't be long now. 

"And?" Dante asked impatiently which made her head snap around to him in anger, but he would not cower.

"Hrandel is the closest settlement to which the treasure was hidden many lifetimes ago, yet it has not been found by the ones who seek it. From there, you are on your own, cursed one."

Something in the way in which the huldra said those final words felt purposeful, but he did not wish to push his fortune any further, for now he could see her equally beautiful sisters emerging from behind the trees. The prisoner gasped at this and Dante instinctively placed his hand on the hilt of his sword. He gave a final look to the man who would deserve everything that was about to happen to him before turning his back and walking away, the sound of screams and tearing flesh welcoming the now darkened skies.

[Astrid Winther - Council]

THE CURSE OF BRISINGAMEN

We are not alone.

The journey was long, and often than not, she wondered why she didn’t fly there; however, it would not have been the same and it would have prevented well needed time with her cousin. Once they arrived at Hrandel, all eyes were upon them; some of the town's folk could spot a Valkyrie and a Sanguine from a mile off, but she supposed to some, these two species were still myth and legend. Astrid stood proudly as Vest spoke out, he had taken notes from Ivarr it seemed - speak for Astrid unless she specifically tells you not to.

It was questionable when the village roared with laughter at the mention of Oathsblood and it filled Astrid with a nervous energy; however her features remained still, emotionless but proud. “Thank you for your generosity” Astrid responded to the King, overly surprised that he was so welcoming of these two strangers; she perhaps would not have been so inviting if the roles were reversed.

“Einor, it’s pleasure” Astrid spoke first, and glanced at her cousin as the warrior turned to face them. “My name is Astrid Winther, Queen of Kattegat. I request your presence and help in finding a jewel, a necklace which belonged to my own Queen. Goddess Freyja.” She stepped forward. “The riddle my Seer shared implied you would be the one to help, if you should so wish.”

As the three of them conversed, an eerie sensation crawled across her skin and as the sun set and the moon rose, casting shadows around them; she knew that they were not alone in this field. Another being, was traveling, wandering, searching, perhaps even lost. “We are not alone” She murmured to Vestein as she glanced into the woodlands.