Post by The Winter's Wrath on Jan 2, 2013 20:37:35 GMT -5
Deep in the isolated reaches of Freljord lays the tribe of the Winter’s Claw, now even further isolated from the rest of the world due to the recent uniting of the other Two of the Three Sister tribes. Their ways were not that of the Winter Claws and going against what had been foretold by the mystics of the clan could only bring ruin. With their future seemingly snatched away by “Queen” Ashe, a depression had fallen over most of the tribe.
As they saw it, some of their enemies still kept them at the edges of isolation and Ashe’s policy of peace made acting even more difficult. Not to mention that she was part of one of the two tribes who had since forced her people to the far reaches of Freljord. To most in the tribe it looked as if their hope had been snatched before their eyes. Regardless of how far they had been driven, somehow the tribe managed to survive.
Sejuani, when she wasn't attending to her duties as a champion, usually could be found tending to her duties as her tribes leader.
Post by Victus Brightblade on Jan 2, 2013 21:02:31 GMT -5
((AND DAMMIT IF I AIN'T GONNA GET MORE STARS!!!! POST EVERYWHERE!!!!))
December 12, 22 CLE
Victus trudged through the snow, the cold blizzard's wind bothered him none. All Freljordians have winter in their veins and Victus, while growing up far away from the cold, was no exception. Over his shoulder was a bull moose, a leg obviously broken and its throat cut. Victus march would be aided by the dead animal, for it would be his way into the tribe. He sought the one person who did have information the Barbarian King didn't, Sejuani.
When he reached the perimeter of the Winter's Claw Camp, Victus would shout to it.
"Freljordian brothers and sisters, is this the Winter's Claw tribe? I seek the council of your leader."
Post by The Winter's Wrath on Jan 2, 2013 21:56:41 GMT -5
He was one man, and he came with an offering. For the council of Sejuani it would be enough.
"Leave the Moose and follow the path to the large hut." A guardsman spoke as he pointed. He was hardy man who was just as big as their visitor. "We do not take kindly to outsiders. You will be watched."
Post by Victus Brightblade on Jan 2, 2013 22:22:00 GMT -5
"I expect nothing less, but I mean no harm. You have my word as a Freljordian and as a Demacian."
Victus was making a gamble here....the Demacians and Freljordians didn't get along. He dropped the beast from his shoulder and trudged up the frozen path. He felt all the eyes of the wary and the curious. A platemail juggernaut wasn't common in the starved lands of the North. He kept his hands low, and with his sword on his back, he hoped it was clear he was at their relative mercy.
The hut was just that. Large, but humble compared to Freljord's capital and the Demacian suburbs. The poor make do with what they can. Victus stood in front of it and waited for some sort of signal to enter.
Post by The Winter's Wrath on Jan 2, 2013 23:51:19 GMT -5
The guards that were posted welcomed Victus with cold and distant stares before one spoke up.
"Enter. Sejuani awaits you within." Within was a more furnished and decorated area with a large centered table. Somehow managed to be warmer than the cold outside. It was clear that this was not Sejuani's home but more of a chamber where Sejuani and the elder's of the Winter Claw tribe would meet.
Sejuani would be waiting within the hall itself, seated and looking towards the door expectantly.
Post by Victus Brightblade on Jan 3, 2013 0:45:21 GMT -5
Victus stepped inside. He slowly removed his helmet, revealing his black short hair and a face as cold as Freljord. He knelt on one knee upon the floor and rested his helmet at his side. With the reverance he would grant a King, Victus spoke to the Freljordian warrior maiden.
"Sejuani, I am Victus Brightblade, born of the Grimcleaver Clan. I apologize for coming uninvited and hope my killing of your moose is not too great a trespass."
Post by The Winter's Wrath on Jan 3, 2013 1:09:49 GMT -5
"I know of the Grim Cleaver clan and I knew of your arrival sooner than you would have thought. If I thought you had meant harm with your trespass I'd likely have had you killed at the gates." Sejuani paid him her full attention. "Rise. You've traveled a long way. What is it you want?"
Post by Victus Brightblade on Jan 3, 2013 1:14:03 GMT -5
Victus rose, holding his helmet on his hip.
"I am glad you know of Grimcleaver, although I am surprised. They are a southern clan. Did you know of its destruction at the vengeful hands of Demacia two decades past? Did any survivors seek your clan out for safety?"
Post by The Winter's Wrath on Jan 3, 2013 1:52:31 GMT -5
"Yes...that information was passed down to me. I know of all the recent and current clans in the region as well as those within the past few decades that have been disbanded. No matter how minor. And no. None of them traveled out so far. If you came here searching for your kin, I am sorry. None are here." If she showed remorse or empathy for him, it was hard to tell. Her face was stoic for the most part.
"The Winter's Claw is far from most other tribes, if you are seeking any remnants, I would suggest look towards neighboring tribes thought after so long I doubt many remain. I would not be surprised if you are looking here because you are running out of places to look."
Post by Victus Brightblade on Jan 3, 2013 9:31:10 GMT -5
"The neighboring clans left to follow Tryndamere. I had checked with what chieftains from the area I could find, but they all only spoke of the broken village and the frozen dead. I have asked Tryndamere for his aid in finding any that might be of Grimcleaver, but it appears that there are none left save me."
Victus should've left it at that, but he knew what Sejauni wanted and knew what that caused.
"Forgive me, but is this the Freljord you want? The people divided and forced to raid to survive? Retaliations for the raids destroying villages? Orphans wandering the wastes to freeze alone because their elders would not retreat and were killed? That path seems unwise."
Post by The Winter's Wrath on Jan 4, 2013 16:25:57 GMT -5
She paused at the mention of the Barbarian King. Perhaps she could respect him to going to anyone who was willing to help him search for his own kin. She went to respond, however he began to speak dribble from his mouth. The same dribble she always heard.
"Hold your tongue. You know nothing of what we've endured." Her eyes became icy, dangerous. "You will not be forgiven should you dare make any implications like that again. Have I made myself clear, Grimcleaver?"
Post by Victus Brightblade on Jan 4, 2013 17:34:17 GMT -5
"You assume I know nothing of the hardship Freljord is? My clan is DEAD. My father and mother died while I looked on! Do not tell me I know NOTHING. You have your clan. I am alone because of what Freljord was. Good day."
Victus bowed sharply, replaced his helm on his head, and stormed out.
Post by The Winter's Wrath on Jan 6, 2013 18:05:41 GMT -5
Sejuani looked on as the misguided left. Did he know the reality that she lived in each and every day? To be forced to watch her people be pressed to the far edges of the land and watch as their situation deteriorated with each and every passing day. Did he understand what it was like to watch a slow death? When his own clan’s end came, he must have been young: somewhere between five and ten. In the end, his world was shattered and he was left alone it seemed.
However, she had been born into a particularly disliked clan and was expected to lead them out of their situation. To glory, and when she found her efforts no longer effective she saw her people’s hopes crushed before their eyes. Did he know what it was like to not only fear actively about losing them, but failing them? Did he understand hopelessness? Despair? She supposed it didn’t matter now, she wouldn’t know and she didn’t care to find out now.
Sivir trudged on through the snow, her boots leaving heavy foot prints in the snow as the icy winds raked against her fur clothing, nearly tearing her hood off. Sivir seemed relatively unfazed by the icy wind, however, being a mercenary, she had to endure every kind of element. "Now where are they.." the Mistress thought to herself, her hand gripped tight around her cross blade
Sivir stopped for a moment to observe her surrounding as best she could under her hood. Wait.. yes, there they were. Sivir's lips quirked into a smirk as the Battlemistress discovered what she was looking for.. a pack of vicious ice wolves were prowling a near by area about 7 of them.. the hunt was on.
Sivir silently stalked up near the beasts, keeping low and for the most part, out of sight, the blue orbs of her eyes locked on their every move. Once she was in range, Sivir took out one of her smaller cross blades and took aim, hurling it at one of the wolves.. just as the animals caught scent of her, the blade struck one atop the head, nearly scalping it as the beast fell over dead.
The others were already charging her, Sivir stood to her feet, her main cross blade in hand as she let out her famous battle cry and charged the beasts. One lunged at her, only to have it's mouth meet her blade. Sivir tossed the dead creature to the side just as another jumped at her. She quickly rolled out of the way and lunged at the beast herself, tackling it and stabbing her blade into it's spine.
Sivir felt a force hit her back, as another wolf tackled her, forcing her face into the snow as it sunk it's teeth into her shoulder, causing her to growl in pain. Sivir quickly elbowed the creature in the eye until it finally let go, quickly getting to her feet before it had a chance to pin her down again. Sivir charged the animal catching it in the side of the head with her blade. Four down.
Sivir quickly turned to the remaining 3 as they closed around her. Sivir quickly dashed to the side and struck the head of one of the beasts and then hurled her cross blade at one other, killing it too.. the alpha male was all that's left. Sivir smirked "No no.. this one needs to last" she said as she unsheathed a dagger that was attached to her boot. The alpha snarled and growled at her, a large scar was across it's eye. Sivir circled the animal, as it did her, eyes locked together.
Finally, the beast charged her and lunged at her, knocking her into the fridge snow once more. Sivir quickly threw her arm up as the creatures teeth latched on to it, tearing at her flesh. Sivir drove the dagger into the beasts neck, but it did not let up, only furthering it's bite pressure. Sivir grit her teeth against the pain and pulled the dagger from it's neck.. driving it into the alpha's eye. The beast howled in pain and finally let go, the snow now stained red with the blood of both of them. Sivir grinned as she quickly got to her feet. "Surely that's not all the fight you have.." she said to the animal
The beast shook it's head until it focused on Sivir with it's good eye and charged her again. Sivir caught the beast in her arms and threw it to the side, diving on top of it and grabbing it's neck with her free hand, stabbing it repeatedly as the beast thrashed about. Finally, the beast ceased to move.. and Sivir stood up, looking around at her kills. She observed the two main wounds on her shoulder and arm.. nothing she hadn't had before. The Mistress slipped her hood back on and retrieved her cross blade from the body of one of the wolves and trudged further on.
Post by The Winter's Wrath on Jan 13, 2013 18:14:28 GMT -5
Through the icy north, the Winter’s Wrath stumbled upon the renown mercenary whom seemed to be killing for sport. Slowly she came into view through the edges of her vision. Sejuani was settled upon her trusted mount, Bristle. Several Elk had been tied upon the back of the large boar and there were smudges of animal blood here and there upon the fur of her clothing as well as Bristle, it seemed that she had been doing her own share of hunting.
“Battle Mistress, it’s in poor taste to waste your kills.” Her tone was more matter of fact than malicious as she starred upon the hooded woman from above. Sejuani’s skin was exposed here and there and it was a wonder how she managed to function in this artic cold with below what seemed to be the bare minimum of clothing. “You should take them.”
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