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Neme-Goddess-of-Death's avatar

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Oksana Zolnerowich

Velika Mat'-Zemlia, Rus' velikaia!
Oi, shiroki prostory tvoi.
Kak chrez zlatye polia beskrainie,
Deti Dazhd'boga prishli.

Gherez debri vekovye,
Skvoz' dalekie kraia,
Vyshli bratiia rodnye —
To Dazhd'boga synov'ia.
Stiagi groznye vzdymaia,
Vozrodim byluiu Rus'!
Sohranim zavety Pravi —
Pred Bogami ia klianus'!




Oi-da, matushka,
Nochka-Svarogovna,
Skroi sedye zavety ottsov
Ot glaza chernogo liuta voroga
V gushe sviaschennyh lesov.


Snova, serdtsem zamiraia,
Slovo molvim, chut' dysha:
Slav'sia, Matushka rodnaia!
Slav'sia, Russkaia dusha !



              Oksana would normally have rolled her sleeves up for this, but she had far too many to make the attempt at the moment. The good news was, her father was a trader of furs, along with all of her brothers. Oksana could skin anything in the dark, blindfolded, while wearing gloves. It was while she was skinning the dire wolf that Gavriil seemed to find a patch of grass near the lean to, lucky for her. It would take a lot more than a tiny patch of grass to get Gavriil back to full strength though. Oksana shook her head at the thought. One more night, and they'd get to Lundene where she could trade the fur of this dire wolf to put Gavriil in a stable with all the grain that horse could stand to stomach.

              She heard the crunch of the snow behind her in the woods, then the voice that accompanied the steps. Oksana rose to her feet, turning to face the other woman with her knife still in her gloved hand. She gave her a quick once over. This girl was no fighter. She was Elven, but she was no fighter. Oksana deemed it fairly early that she would be no threat, and if she tried, Oksana was positive she could cut her down without trouble. "Aria of the South Sea, I am Oksana of the Northlands. This is Barron, son of the Lord of Whitescale Pass. I haven' a problem sharin', ya can give yer herbs ta my horse." She motioned with her knife over toward Gavriil before flipping the knife a couple of times in her hand. "The sooner we get the beast done, the sooner we can all eat." With that, she crouched back down by the animal and set about finishing her work of skinning it.





Gherez debri vekovye,
Skvoz' dalekie kraia,
Molvim, bratiia rodnye:
Slav'sia, Rus', Zemlia moia!
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Once she was sure everyone was fed and happy, Althea pulled open the doors to the barn and ushered everyone inside. It was one thing when she forgot to feed the animals, it was a whole different thing when she forgot to put them in the barn for the night. Her stepmother's shrill voice was bound to give her a migraine before too long. Pulling her shawl tighter around her body to keep the chill away, she hurried back towards her home.

The cabin itself was built from the very redwoods that surrounded the kingdom, having been created by her great-grandfather when the town had been a lot smaller. It held three rooms and a loft, a kitchen and an outhouse. Stepping in through the back door, she pulled off her work boots and looked around. Starry eyes moved over everything while a slow smile curled over her lips. Her mother's touch was everywhere, along with the subtle hint of her father's. It was a sight that always made her feel closer to her mother. Of course, it didn't last long.

"Althea, did you feed the cows like I said? And did you make sure that the barn doors were closed once you put them up? Deidre down in the market said that it was suppose to snow all night long." The ever annoying voice of her stepmother had her wanting to growl like an animal. Holding off as best she could, Althea shook the snow from her clothes and headed straight for her room. She didn't bother to reply, she simply locked herself in her sanctuary and flopped down on her cot. Maybe sleep would help put her mood back into a pleasant one.
Nodding at Oksana as she departed to bring back her game and sheathing his dagger once more, he set about to breaking down the backside of the lean-to in an effort make a large spit and used the rest of the timber and dried needles to build a bigger fire.
Stopping as he heard her arrival, he marveled at the size of the beast, and then laughed softly.
"M'lady- Oksana, pardons- I am pleased that you have brought this bounty to share. Though now I fear I may be a little out matched," he laughed again, soft as a breeze. "I would be weary, knowing you are more than capable of taking me for ransom. If, in fact, my life was worth it." Looking upwards, his smile grew. "And my people do not bow, anymore than a wolf prays. I respect your courtesy, but it would mean more to have good company." As he finished saying that, he scanned around the clearing once more, and his eyes fell upon a maiden elf, just as she was entering the firelight.
His eyes hardened slightly as he observed her and then softened with a look of resignation.
"Lady Elf," he called out in reply, "there is plenty and more room for the three of us and M'lady- Oksana's- garron. This is not my fire, I just helped bring it to life. It would be an honor to host such a guest, and truth be told, I have never had the honor of meeting one of the ancient race." His eyes betrayed no emotion as he watched with bated breath. It was true he had never met an Elf, and he trusted them as well as he knew them. Being raised with stories from the North, where tales of the great wars still flowered and inspired superstitions, Barron had come to develop a preconceived notion of an Elf's character. But biases or not, it was a cold, dark night, and she came peacefully enough to settle his doubts. "If it is no trouble with Oksana daughter of Feofan, that is." He nodded his head at her in respected, then set about his task of strengthening the spit.
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Seeing the knife in this woman's hands Aria took a step back and held up her own hands in a clear 'I come in peace and am not armed' sort of gesture, her eyes slightly widened. But then she realized that this woman was only armed because she was in the middle of skinning a wolf, and did not at this moment at least intend her harm. Aria was aware that could change at any time, but sensed these people would only harm her if she tried something first. And so Aria relaxed a little, her hands lowering, and gave a slight bow to them both. "It is a pleasure to meet others out here tonight. I did not think many would travel in this sort of chill." She remarks, straightening up, then smiled at the man. "And I am happy to see, that despite first meetings you would still welcome me. I know rumors can make one wary of my race, but I hope you trust me when I say I bring no ill will. I simple seek shelter and warmth for the night." She reassured him. Where she had grown up races mingled harmoniously, but she knew that was not the case in all regions of the land.

When the woman mentioned her horse Aria nodded and glanced over to the creature, smiling softly. "You have a beautiful steed." She remarks. Like all elven kind she had a soft spot for animals, especially horses and birds. Aria dropped her bag and instrument by the lean to, making sure the lyre was several feet from the flames, then crouched down and rustled around in her bag for a few moments. Eventually she pulled out a cloth, opening it reveal several handfuls of herbs. Since she was so near to her destination she did not worry about rationing and carried the whole amount over to Gavrill, smiling softly as she held out the bushel of herbs to the beast.
((Edited))
Snow.

How he hated snow.

It was perhaps the worst form of moisture that there was on this god-forsaken Earth. It was always so annoying how it clung to everything and got into his boots, making his feet damp whenever he got inside when the snow would finally melt into regular water. Of course, snow also meant that it was winter and winter itself was always dreary and annoying. Plenty of corpses here and there though that died through frostbite. It was perhaps one pro against a huge list of cons that Zedekiah had made against the most dreadful and hated of the seasons in his opinion.

Zedekiah was a battlemage of sorts. His magical specialty relied on the dark arts and most specifically necromancery. He had always found it useful to have various minions underneath his command when he was fighting against the odds which was almost always. Zedekiah had three prominent skills, a mastery of necromancery, alchemy, and hand to hand combat. With these skills he was a self sufficient warrior, being able to heal himself from both the plants around him and the blood of the enemies, able to craft dark energy into his palms as his fists would cut down any that opposed him..

But, Zedekiah today had no work in particular. He was simply traveling. It was day three of walking and he had yet to see any sort of sentient creature nor any signs of civilization. He was starting to think that perhaps he had finally wandered into a rather stupid direction. He was by no means near death but it was starting to bug him that he had no inn to call home for a week in order to escape the harsh reality of winter..

And that was when his brown eyes settled onto a rather small farm. Seeing what looked to be a female figure head inside, Zedekiah stopped in the distance, himself dressed in a thick black cloak with what appeared to be some sort of grey fur outlining the inside. With a hood pulled up and hiding majority of his face, Zedekiah did indeed look rather mysterious and dangerous..

"I think I found myself a place to say."
Watching this exchange with solemn amusement, for he liked to observe the small differences cultural custom conjured (a little quark that his Lord Father had found useless and annoying) he took solace in the promise of respite..
"The pleasure is surely mine. It has been over a fortnight since my last company, and that was of a bear, who killed my horse and broke my blade. Two lovely ladies is something I can learn to cope with, and food is something we all need." He suddenly recalled something, and more out of curiosity blurted out 'Is it true ancient ones do not partake of meat, Lady Elf? I have heard tales pun and songs sung about the ferocity of your warriors, and the passions of your people. But I fear I lay in ignorance of the true nature of things."
He watched her feed the steed, then returned to his meditation, ever vigilant, getting to the point of consciousness that does not deceive.
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[[I'm starting work on supper IRL as well. xD Feel free to minorly puppet Oksana through the process of the wolf and such, I'll be back soon.]]
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The sound of voices slowly filled her home as her father returned for the night. Knowing she would have to make an entrance eventually, Althea huffed out a breath and pushed herself back onto her feet. Her hands messed with her scarlet locks for a moment before she slipped back out into the main part of the house. Heat greeted her the moment she opened the bedroom door, a sign that her stepbrother had started a fire. Enjoying it, she put a smile on her face and sneaked up behind her father. She stepped up onto her tiptoes and kissed his rough cheek, earning herself a bright smile and a big hug.

"There's my girl! Did you have a good day, my dear?" Her father's usual reply had her chuckling softly under her breath. He said the same thing to her every night, and her response was always the same for him. Althea returned the hug and gave him a bright smile.

"It's better now that you are home, Papa." She confessed, giving him an extra squeeze before releasing him. With a nudge, Althea put him between herself and her stepmother. Her father recognized the move and focused on his wife, giving her attention to keep her steely eyes off of Althea.

With her family busy chatting, she slipped into her work boots and grabbed her shawl. The fire might have been warm now, but she knew they would need more wood eventually. Taking the opportunity now, Althea slipped out into the evening air and headed for their shed. She hummed to herself just as she had earlier, all the while oblivious to what was around her. Her home was as far from the town square as it could get, so she didn't see the need to pay attention to her surroundings.
Listening at the sickly tearing sound of skin separating from muscle as Oksana had hung the wolf from a low limb and slowly eased the skin off the carcass with her knife. As soon as she had set it aside, Barron walked over and brought it closer to the fires, scraping off the blood and muscle chunks and then washing it with snow as best he could.
He caught a whiff of sweet death as the innards of the wolf slopped into the almost foot deep snow, steaming where they hid. Again, Barron retrieved the innards with a stick and began burying them beneath the tundra, as to make sure no more predators came lurking around. As she finished shaving thre flanks, they worked together staking them on the spits.
Barron started turning the spit, careful to do it evenly every time he turned it, so as not to burn it unevenly.
"I thank you again, Oksana," he said, relief and saliva almost dripping from his mouth as the scent of fresh meat being cooked sprung up.
Neme-Goddess-of-Death
[[I'm starting work on supper IRL as well. xD Feel free to minorly puppet Oksana through the process of the wolf and such, I'll be back soon.]]
((me too, haha. Good ol' chicken parm sub haha I'm going to pick it up now, be back in a few minutes.. Will, do))
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Aria laughed softly, more so at how he asked the question than what he asked, and glanced over her shoulder at him. ”There are those of us who do swear off meat, it is true. Those who stick to the old ways, mostly. However I and my family do not- but that might just be because we grew up in a trading hub that some say has diluted our traditions and made us lose our way.” She remarked. It was hard to say if she found these accusations amusing, annoying, or a mix of both. Growing up where she had she had occasionally been shunned by the more traditional elves, but she didn’t let it bother her. They couldn’t spend the rest of history hiding in forests, practicing the old rituals. Life was about change. ”I am a traveler, and on the road one cannot be picky. As long as Mother Earth understands that I do not kill game for sport, and am thankful for the sacrifice given so that I may live I believe there is no violation to my faith.” She explains. Of course the goddess she worshiped was not called mother earth- but she simplified it so that he could understand. Most humans found the elvish tongue incredibly difficult to understand.

While she did not shy from eating meat, though, Aria would admit watching the process of them skinning the beast was a bit unsettling to her stomach. The scent and the sounds made her bite her lip and turn away again. She was indeed not a fighter, though she could hold her own against drunken idiots who found her alluring. However she had never killed anyone, and the sight of the wolf's organs made her appetite dull for a moment. ((Edited))
The air would almost seemingly get colder as Athena approached the shed more and more and then suddenly a voice would break the ever so still silence of the cold and harsh winter air.
"Rather cold out today, isn't it?" The voice was deep and firm with a rather high sense of confidence behind it. He was now standing behind her and had approached her simply by walking behind her in a rather slow fashion, the girl was by no means any warrior of sort from what he could tell of how he had just crept up onto her. Staring at her for a few moments as his hands would then raise up to his hood and grasp both sides, he would pull it down, revealing his face, a sign in these days and age that he was not here to kill her. A true murderer never wanted to show their face anyways..

His hair was as black as night and very short, well kept and trimmed, along with a matching beard. It too was trimmed, yet very thick, and provided him just a small bit of extra warmth in these cold days. His right eye was normal and very brown, whilst his left eye..was completely white. There was a very long story behind it for another time and it's purpose may have been revealed later, but for now, it only added to the rather intimidating look that Zedekiah held. With a rather nasty scar covering the left side of his face and showing a very apparent battlewound over the rather strange eye, the next feature, was perhaps what most remembered him by. Around his face and seemingly running down his neck were various runes, any mage would know that they were power runes, symbols meant for boosting properties of the human body, and in this case the ones that Zedekiah had tattooed throughout his entire body were meant for increasing his strength and mana.

Standing at about 5'11 and the cloak that he was wearing swaying lightly with the gently breeze, his eyes kept on her the entire time, as his lips began to part and soon words traveled from his mouth to her ear.
"I offer my services to you if you allow me to seek shelter within' your land. I can heal the sick and I will fight to the death if need be to protect whomever purchases or becomes my employer of sorts. Perhaps, we can cut a deal?"
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Although she wasn't dressed like a warrior, or carried the scars of one, didn't mean she wasn't trained. The moment his voice reached her, Althea's hand found the dagger hidden against her lower back. With quick, agile movements, she had the blade pointed at the man while her starry eyes narrowed on his form. She was backed into the shed, with no way out, but she refused to show fear. Thankfully, she didn't have to. When he lowered his hood, she relaxed fractionally but didn't lower her dagger. It might have been a well known sign that he came in peace, but she had been taught not to trust anyone or anything she didn't know.

While he pitched his offer, Althea studied him more closely. She recognized his runes from a book she had one read, and pegged him as a mage. His eye and scar peaked her interest, but she held back her questions. He was a stranger and she hadn't been raised to be rude. So, she swallowed her words and waited for him to finish.

"If you wish to stay, you have to speak to my father. I will take you to him, if you would let me pass, that is." Althea replied, lowering her dagger enough to let him know she wasn't going to stick him with it. Of course, the blade never left her hand. She might have been a girl, but that didn't mean she was dumb.
His eyes would fall onto the dagger as a rather small smirk would cross his lips for the faintest of moments before fading away and listening to her speak. As she would observe him, she may have taken notice that not a single weapon was carried on his person, and even those with the trained eye could not see any type of blade nor dagger that was concealed.

Stepping out of the way and waving his hand towards her home, he then began to speak.
"After you, then. I can only hope that your father is a reasonable man." He would say in a rather eerie tone before he would then turn towards the home and let out a small gruff grunt as he cleared his throat and soon brought a hand up to his chin and scratched at his facial hair before starting to speak.
"..You've a lot of dead on these grounds." He would comment before going silent and turning his head to look over his shoulder at the girl, his posture remaining calm and collected as it had been the entire time.

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