01-15-2016, 05:04 PM
(This post was last modified: 01-16-2016, 08:57 AM by Lagertha.
Edit Reason: to better comply with the rules
)
I am iron and I forge myself
There are thirteen of them in all, and if Lagertha were the superstitious type, she might have seen the ill omen from the start. But Lagertha doesn’t think that way; she thinks in terms of what she can and cannot do, of mental will power and the best of her physical abilities. She thinks in terms of offense and defense and wonders when her dam’s insanity will come creeping after its rightful possession. Is it now? At the ‘end of the world’ that is somehow different from another end of the world? Was that post this potential apocalypse, after Conquest has made all living things bend the knee, when War has turned the waters red, Famine sends them into cannibalism, and Disease has run rampant and killed or mutated everything that’s left? Is that when the Langoliers come, raring to chew up everything that has not already been destroyed in fire and brimstone?
The lamb reappears, and in casting a scrutinizingly gray gaze after it, as it walks with an unusual stateliness (for a lamb). Her eyes travel down its stubby little legs to what it is standing on, where they grow wide in concern as it parades towards one of the circular stones. There are four in all, scattered around the clearing. Lagertha cannot read the markings on the stones, but the swirls and lines seem rather ominous. She swallows, almost nervously, forcing herself to keep a calm exterior. This is but a.... seven-eyed and seven-horned lamb! She could sprout spikes and run it through in a heartbeat. She’s about to open her mouth and demand answers of the odd little creature when it stops and presses a hoof into the first of the stones, triggering an explosion that makes her reflexively don her usual thin layer of metal. It comes, but more slowly than she’d like, which causes her to brace herself. Even as she is protected, she twists her neck and head away, protecting the vulnerable eyes and even more important - cranial area. After she’s sure that debris isn’t raining down on them, the gray Queen sheathes her metal.
More than a little irritated, the Warrior Queen snorts loudly, and turns back to survey the mess: all smoke and dust and the sounds of the other twelve Beqannians. She shifts restlessly, very much disliking this piecemeal revelation of what their ‘fate’ is. On edge and very much alert, Lagertha’s ears fall to her skull when the air fills next with laughter and flashes draw their attention, heralding the what can only be the headliner for the evening. The lamb was just the opening act. This guy, with his bright yellow eyes and putrid, festering skin (he reminds her of Infection, of the odd, predatory Tundra man) that hangs in ribbons off his neck. Ugh. Oh god. If horses could vomit, she would probably have retched right then and there. War and blood is one thing - pus and rotting flesh is another. She is a General, not a Surgeon.
Conquest, the world seems to whisper to them, and all of a sudden her revulsion wanes. Oh, well… that just might change everything. Especially with a pack of misshapen beasts at his command. All sort of wretched creatures materialize behind the stallion, and she finds herself drawn to the bear with armor in place of skin, envious of both the weapons he has and the protection he enjoys. Except for the whole, being enslaved to a (rotting?) horse thing. That must suck. Hungry eyes wander over the army, and she begins to wonder what she could do with such monsters at her disposal.
Could she bring Beqanna to its knees, and place an actual crown of thorns upon her brow? Could she have Straia by the throat, and then shove one of those goddamn birds down it too? She’s practically salivating at the thought.
The Seal! rings crystal clear, drawing Lagertha back from her morbid daydreams. She watches at the stallions seems to froth (even more so than herself) at the mouth, and the meaning is evident: The Seal holds him in check. With a sidelong glance to the other twelve, the Khaleesi doubles down on her original assessment of them. She can’t imagine that many of them will want to see Conquest released upon the world - even if it does seem like everything is already dead. What are the odds if the actual sun is gone and the wind no longer blows, and these… oddly joined twelve are all that stands between the Apocalypse and the world? Two of them are children. Two - maybe three, including herself - seem like they could hold their own in a fight. What kind of motley team is that? Granted, she’s learned that you shouldn’t underestimate the nice ones. They got to Gail, and first had to pass through aliens in space and hellish demons from the dark-god-only-knows-where. Clearly brute strength isn’t everything all of the time.
Nevertheless...winning trumps being morally correct any day. The other twelve don’t seem like they’re going to last too long, and she isn’t one to lend a hand to a lost cause. This also means that Lagertha isn’t likely to have any allies. So be it, she’s always been the flying solo type.
Granted, the actual mechanics of how the seal works and what exactly they have to do to keep him not-so-quietly contained are unknown. However, as The Seal! was shattered at the touch of a lamb (again, she doesn’t know why, except that for some reason, they once again play things of the supernatural), and Conquest appeared, perhaps they need to put it back together again to make his disappear. Which would mean they need all the pieces. And if she were to… accidentally crush one or two of the pieces… well then oopsey daisy.
Something seems like it’s supposed to happen… but no one is moving. They stand locked in a stare down. So Lagertha takes a deep breath and lunges forward, turning to the left in a tight circle, intending to find one of the pieces that probably flew over their heads. No way in hell is she going to try to fight through that mass of monsters. Even if she is able to communicate that they’re on the same side, chances of getting that out before they do some sort of damage to her is small. Let the others do what they will.
She frantically scans the earth before her for a piece-of-stone-that-is-not-a-stone. The soldier in her, however, will not let her pour all her attention into that sole task. With one gray ear twisting behind her, to try to keep an eye on the mayhem that is sure to ensue, she heads to the edge of the clearing. The blast was pretty powerful. Maybe one of the pieces flew this far. Unfortunately for Lagertha, she barely makes it more than a few paces before she hears something coming up behind her. She spares a quick look and sees that it is Conquest itself, thundering towards her, with flayed skin streaming along behind him. His eyes glint with a merciless sort of hatred, as if Lagertha herself has been responsible for holding him captive all these years. He closes the distance between them easily, and before Lagertha can look back a second time, the tip of his nose grazes her, and she feels a stinging sensation as her rump explodes into a itchy, and then painful rash that sends her yelping in intense discomfort and swinging her hindquarters quickly out of the way of his apparently pain-inducing touch. She throws the metal barrier back up again. It was utterly stupid to have let it go in the first place.
“Fuuuuuuuck!” Aaaaagh, oh god oh god ohgodd that HURTS. She clenches her jaw, submerging the tips of her indignation, and quietly spits back at the stallion, “I’m on your side, asshole!” If looks could kill, Conquest would be dead as a doornail, and there would be no need for this mad scramble. He seems to pause, unsure of what she’s just said, and Lagertha glances back at the blistery swathe that now covers the top of her flanks. “What the hell did you do to me? It hurts,” she snarls, wincing as her skin moves with every cautionary step she takes. His minions appear to be harrying the other twelve, but she can’t risk being seen just talking with the enemy, so she moves towards the edge of the clearing again.
But he’s gone. The stallion is off to torture some other unfortunate soul, and the Amazonian Khaleesi is left with nothing but questions and only a fraction of an idea of how to continue. That is, until a giant (and by giant, I’m talking massive) millipede as long as her own body, with giant, pinching jaws and nasty looking spines on its back comes skittering up to her from the direction in which Conquest disappeared. Lagertha rears upon her hind legs, preparing to attempt to crush it beneath her hooves, but it refuses to attack, simply staying out of reach of her legs. She backpedals, but it stays in place. Lagertha adds small, metal thorns to her leg armor, just in case, and then continues her search with one eye towards the ground, and another eyes on the millipede. But even when she continues to try to find her piece of the seal, it hangs back… almost as if it is surreptitiously guarding her.
If so… it’s a damn good choice. Nothing too fancy, or tall enough to really stand out to the others. Just enough for her to maybe pretend to see it, if anyone notices (though by the sound of things, she’s sure they’re all equally occupied), and then attack. Or for it to defend her. A quick scan of the area reveals nothing, so she pushes past a couple of bushes and spots a grayish-tannish glint amongst the shadows. There, just beyond where the sunless sky has shed its light, is a shard of The Seal. Grunting as she lurches towards it (the rash’s discomfort is intensifying, every step feels like a hundred little sharp points are pushing into her muscles), she momentarily leaves the commotion behind and without hesitation, moves to stand over the bit of stone. She raises a well-muscled leg and prepares to bring it down with all her might upon the seal.
But it cannot be done. The stone will not break. Lagertha frowns and takes a look around. Luckily no one is paying attention to her, and no one has moved beyond the light to search behind the bushes. So instead, she presses around a bit and finds a soft area of earth. She paws at the ground, creating a shallow hole into which she will push the shard, cover it up, and then run back out to provide 'aid' to the others and attempt to cover up her deception. With the faintest glimmer of a smirk on her lips, Lagertha noses the piece of the seal into its secret grave.
The lamb reappears, and in casting a scrutinizingly gray gaze after it, as it walks with an unusual stateliness (for a lamb). Her eyes travel down its stubby little legs to what it is standing on, where they grow wide in concern as it parades towards one of the circular stones. There are four in all, scattered around the clearing. Lagertha cannot read the markings on the stones, but the swirls and lines seem rather ominous. She swallows, almost nervously, forcing herself to keep a calm exterior. This is but a.... seven-eyed and seven-horned lamb! She could sprout spikes and run it through in a heartbeat. She’s about to open her mouth and demand answers of the odd little creature when it stops and presses a hoof into the first of the stones, triggering an explosion that makes her reflexively don her usual thin layer of metal. It comes, but more slowly than she’d like, which causes her to brace herself. Even as she is protected, she twists her neck and head away, protecting the vulnerable eyes and even more important - cranial area. After she’s sure that debris isn’t raining down on them, the gray Queen sheathes her metal.
More than a little irritated, the Warrior Queen snorts loudly, and turns back to survey the mess: all smoke and dust and the sounds of the other twelve Beqannians. She shifts restlessly, very much disliking this piecemeal revelation of what their ‘fate’ is. On edge and very much alert, Lagertha’s ears fall to her skull when the air fills next with laughter and flashes draw their attention, heralding the what can only be the headliner for the evening. The lamb was just the opening act. This guy, with his bright yellow eyes and putrid, festering skin (he reminds her of Infection, of the odd, predatory Tundra man) that hangs in ribbons off his neck. Ugh. Oh god. If horses could vomit, she would probably have retched right then and there. War and blood is one thing - pus and rotting flesh is another. She is a General, not a Surgeon.
Conquest, the world seems to whisper to them, and all of a sudden her revulsion wanes. Oh, well… that just might change everything. Especially with a pack of misshapen beasts at his command. All sort of wretched creatures materialize behind the stallion, and she finds herself drawn to the bear with armor in place of skin, envious of both the weapons he has and the protection he enjoys. Except for the whole, being enslaved to a (rotting?) horse thing. That must suck. Hungry eyes wander over the army, and she begins to wonder what she could do with such monsters at her disposal.
Could she bring Beqanna to its knees, and place an actual crown of thorns upon her brow? Could she have Straia by the throat, and then shove one of those goddamn birds down it too? She’s practically salivating at the thought.
The Seal! rings crystal clear, drawing Lagertha back from her morbid daydreams. She watches at the stallions seems to froth (even more so than herself) at the mouth, and the meaning is evident: The Seal holds him in check. With a sidelong glance to the other twelve, the Khaleesi doubles down on her original assessment of them. She can’t imagine that many of them will want to see Conquest released upon the world - even if it does seem like everything is already dead. What are the odds if the actual sun is gone and the wind no longer blows, and these… oddly joined twelve are all that stands between the Apocalypse and the world? Two of them are children. Two - maybe three, including herself - seem like they could hold their own in a fight. What kind of motley team is that? Granted, she’s learned that you shouldn’t underestimate the nice ones. They got to Gail, and first had to pass through aliens in space and hellish demons from the dark-god-only-knows-where. Clearly brute strength isn’t everything all of the time.
Nevertheless...winning trumps being morally correct any day. The other twelve don’t seem like they’re going to last too long, and she isn’t one to lend a hand to a lost cause. This also means that Lagertha isn’t likely to have any allies. So be it, she’s always been the flying solo type.
Granted, the actual mechanics of how the seal works and what exactly they have to do to keep him not-so-quietly contained are unknown. However, as The Seal! was shattered at the touch of a lamb (again, she doesn’t know why, except that for some reason, they once again play things of the supernatural), and Conquest appeared, perhaps they need to put it back together again to make his disappear. Which would mean they need all the pieces. And if she were to… accidentally crush one or two of the pieces… well then oopsey daisy.
Something seems like it’s supposed to happen… but no one is moving. They stand locked in a stare down. So Lagertha takes a deep breath and lunges forward, turning to the left in a tight circle, intending to find one of the pieces that probably flew over their heads. No way in hell is she going to try to fight through that mass of monsters. Even if she is able to communicate that they’re on the same side, chances of getting that out before they do some sort of damage to her is small. Let the others do what they will.
She frantically scans the earth before her for a piece-of-stone-that-is-not-a-stone. The soldier in her, however, will not let her pour all her attention into that sole task. With one gray ear twisting behind her, to try to keep an eye on the mayhem that is sure to ensue, she heads to the edge of the clearing. The blast was pretty powerful. Maybe one of the pieces flew this far. Unfortunately for Lagertha, she barely makes it more than a few paces before she hears something coming up behind her. She spares a quick look and sees that it is Conquest itself, thundering towards her, with flayed skin streaming along behind him. His eyes glint with a merciless sort of hatred, as if Lagertha herself has been responsible for holding him captive all these years. He closes the distance between them easily, and before Lagertha can look back a second time, the tip of his nose grazes her, and she feels a stinging sensation as her rump explodes into a itchy, and then painful rash that sends her yelping in intense discomfort and swinging her hindquarters quickly out of the way of his apparently pain-inducing touch. She throws the metal barrier back up again. It was utterly stupid to have let it go in the first place.
“Fuuuuuuuck!” Aaaaagh, oh god oh god ohgodd that HURTS. She clenches her jaw, submerging the tips of her indignation, and quietly spits back at the stallion, “I’m on your side, asshole!” If looks could kill, Conquest would be dead as a doornail, and there would be no need for this mad scramble. He seems to pause, unsure of what she’s just said, and Lagertha glances back at the blistery swathe that now covers the top of her flanks. “What the hell did you do to me? It hurts,” she snarls, wincing as her skin moves with every cautionary step she takes. His minions appear to be harrying the other twelve, but she can’t risk being seen just talking with the enemy, so she moves towards the edge of the clearing again.
But he’s gone. The stallion is off to torture some other unfortunate soul, and the Amazonian Khaleesi is left with nothing but questions and only a fraction of an idea of how to continue. That is, until a giant (and by giant, I’m talking massive) millipede as long as her own body, with giant, pinching jaws and nasty looking spines on its back comes skittering up to her from the direction in which Conquest disappeared. Lagertha rears upon her hind legs, preparing to attempt to crush it beneath her hooves, but it refuses to attack, simply staying out of reach of her legs. She backpedals, but it stays in place. Lagertha adds small, metal thorns to her leg armor, just in case, and then continues her search with one eye towards the ground, and another eyes on the millipede. But even when she continues to try to find her piece of the seal, it hangs back… almost as if it is surreptitiously guarding her.
If so… it’s a damn good choice. Nothing too fancy, or tall enough to really stand out to the others. Just enough for her to maybe pretend to see it, if anyone notices (though by the sound of things, she’s sure they’re all equally occupied), and then attack. Or for it to defend her. A quick scan of the area reveals nothing, so she pushes past a couple of bushes and spots a grayish-tannish glint amongst the shadows. There, just beyond where the sunless sky has shed its light, is a shard of The Seal. Grunting as she lurches towards it (the rash’s discomfort is intensifying, every step feels like a hundred little sharp points are pushing into her muscles), she momentarily leaves the commotion behind and without hesitation, moves to stand over the bit of stone. She raises a well-muscled leg and prepares to bring it down with all her might upon the seal.
But it cannot be done. The stone will not break. Lagertha frowns and takes a look around. Luckily no one is paying attention to her, and no one has moved beyond the light to search behind the bushes. So instead, she presses around a bit and finds a soft area of earth. She paws at the ground, creating a shallow hole into which she will push the shard, cover it up, and then run back out to provide 'aid' to the others and attempt to cover up her deception. With the faintest glimmer of a smirk on her lips, Lagertha noses the piece of the seal into its secret grave.
Lagertha
warrior queen of the amazons
tl;dr - Lagertha decides to help Conquest. She heads to the edge of the clearing to look for a piece of the Seal, and Conquest comes after her. He touches her and she gets Shingles. After hissing that she's on his side, he leaves her alone and provides her with a giant millipede as protection. She finds a shard behind the bushes at the edge of meadow, and when she realizes she can't destroy it, buries it instead. As far as she knows, no one is around to see it. She is on her way out to pretend like nothing has happened.
Feel free to powerplay Lagertha helping your character with something. She has natural armor formation and dart frog poison secretion. You don't have to ok anything by me, as long as she doesn't speak much, and doesn't get very hurt. She's already wearing metal armor, with metal thorns on her legs.