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Orskaf Donz: Orskaf Donz came to a stop outside of the Grounded Dungeon. He starred at the rebels walking about, setting up shelters and pots of crudely made meals. His eyes narrowed as he saw the area that had been designated as Haddock’s temporary quarters. If the King was in there then so was Stonegit, which means that Blunt…if he was still alive, may be in there as well. Breathing through his nose thinly, he walked forward, giving no thought as he began making his way right into the midst of them.
Akira Skye: Skye watched as someone new walked in and he stiffened his whole body. “Hey! Stop right there!” He walked up to Orskaf and looked up at him. “Who are you, and what are you doing here? You see, we can’t exactly afford more people right now.” His stare was like ice and he continued to look at Orskaf.
Grey Bergman: Grey jumped at Skye shouting and turned around to see that he was talking to someone. She gasped when she recognized the old man. She glared. Her first instinct was to tell King Haddock and Stonegit, but those two had been through enough today. She was second-in-command. She could handle this.
She marched over to the two men. “Skye, stand down,” she said. “I can take it from here. Alright, Orskaf, what are you doing here? Haven’t you caused enough trouble for today?” She rested her hand on her sword ready to fight the man just in case.
Orskaf Donz: Orskaf nudged past the two of them as if he didn’t even see them. “Move…” he growled.
Akira Skye: Skye stood his ground and shook his head. “I’m afraid I can’t do that.” His stance held as he continued to glare Orskaf down.
Orskaf Donz: Orskaf turned around, holding up a finger. “You…piss off,” he said, and then pointed to Grey. “You, put that bit of scrap metal away. You wouldn’t be able to do anything with it anyway.”
Grey Bergman: Grey glared hard bearing her teeth similar to her Night Fury. “Hate to break it you, Orskaf,” she said, “but I’m King Haddock’s second-in-command. YOU have no authority over me, especially when you’re nothing…but a cold-blooded psychotic murderer.”
Orskaf Donz: Orskaf ignored her, walking closer to the main building. He glanced back her. “King Haddock…is a slave now, congratulations on your promotion.” he drew a breath. “I’m here for my grandson,”
Akira Skye: Skye jumped in front of Grey and Orskaf. “Please, let’s stop now. While Haddock may be your slave; he is aligned with Hel. You cannot do a thing to him. Not for a while longer.”
Orskaf Donz: Orskaf raised an incredulous eyebrow. “My slave?” he shook his head. “You’re a fucking idiot.”
“YOU!” a rebel yelled, running over to him and swinging a fist. “You killed my friend you bastard!”
Looking bored, Orskaf blocked the attacks softly, his arms came up and parried the man’s attacks, before he finally tapped his head once with a finger, and gently scooped the rebel’s leg out from under him. He shoved him away across the ground with one foot as more rebels started to circle around him. He gritted his teeth. “You can’t do anything…I’m here for Blunt, and I’m not leaving till I have a word with him.”
Grey Bergman: Grey stepped in front of Skye preventing Orskaf from coming any closer and glared at the old man. He didn’t have a weapon on him, but still, after what he did to Kiri, Haddock, and Stonegit, there was no way she was letting him anywhere near that building.
“Then stay here where I can keep an eye on you,” she said. “I’ll have the guards retrieve Blunt and bring him here. That is my offer, and if you don’t accept, I will not hesitate to sick my Night Fury on you.” She gestured to Shadow, who was behind her growling at Orskaf threatening to attack if any harm came to her rider. “Are we clear?”
Orskaf Donz: “That dragon is Hel’s property as well…it doesn’t make a damn bit of difference if I get near your friends or not! Now get out of my way!” Orskaf yelled, shoving at them. The rebels resisted, pushing to keep him away from the building. Orskaf gasped and staggered back, his face livid.
Orskaf glared at the crowd around him, panting slightly. “You want proof?” his eyes shifted over, catching Asha out of the corner of his vision. “…I can supply that.” The man reached down, picking up a rusted sledge hammer out of the snow. He then turned, and began walking towards Asha, the head of the tool dragging on the ground behind him.
Asha Stenberg: Asha’s eyes widened in fear. She tried to move, to run, but found her feet glued to the spot. She found herself shaking instead.
“Please don’t come any closer. Please.” She begged meekly, wrapping her arms around herself. “Please.”
Orskaf Donz: Orskaf ignored the plea though, his eyes still set. “Are you insane!” one of the rebels yelled, attempting to tackle him from the side. But Orskaf merely rolled him over his shoulders. The rebels began converging on him, shouting at him, but they were unable to land a single blow, and Orskaf slipped out of their hands effortlessly.
“No! Leave her alone you maniac she’s pregnant!” another rebel yelled. “You can’t do this!”
Orskaf placed a hand on the man’s face, pushing him away as if he was a rag doll. He hefted up the hammer, holding it by the end of the handle with one hand, drawing it back.
Asha Stenberg: Asha’s vision blurred with tears. Why her? What had she done? Whatever he was going to do couldn’t be pleasant.
She finally managed to back up, just a few steps, before she tripped and lost her balance, causing her to fall.
Greg Ericson: “Orskaf!” Greg yelled as he suddenly appeared out of nowhere, advancing towards the judge. “If you want to prove it to us, use someone who’s willing to go through with it.” The boy stepped in front of Asha and said simply. “Use me.”
Orskaf Donz: Orskaf leaned forward, gripping Greg’s shirt. “You can defend yourself, and I will prove nothing.” he motioned with the hammer towards Asha. “They can’t,” he said. “So there will be no room for doubt.”
Greg Ericson: “You will not use them.” Greg said firmly. He took his scabbard and threw it away. “You will use me and I will not defend myself. Go on prove yourself.”
Orskaf Donz: Orskaf licked his lips, letting him go. “Very well,” he breathed. He suddenly shoved forward, hurling Greg out of the way, and power swung the peg driver to the side of Asha’s stomach. There was a crack, and before the hammer could make contact with her, the wood of the handle broke, and then head fell uselessly to the ground beside Asha. Orskaf exhaled long and hard, there was no reason, outside of divine intervention, that would have cause that handle to break. “Good enough?” he asked Greg, throwing the broken end at his feet and turning to walk to the entrance of the main cell block.
Greg Ericson: Greg watched Orskaf walk into the dungeon, then he shook his head and quickly went to asha’s side. “Are you all right?” he said worriedly. If that asshole hurt his sister, or her baby there would be Hel to pay.
Asha Stenberg: Asha pulled her knees to her chest, trying to stop shaking. She looked up at Greg. “I-I’m al-alright… What does he want to prove? Why did he come after me?”
Greg Ericson: “He said he wanted to prove he couldn’t physically hurt us.” Greg said grimly. “He came after you, because he thought you couldn’t defend yourself.”
Asha Stenberg: “He was right about that.” Asha said quietly back to him, looking to the ground. She should probably get up and stop looking like such a wimp. At least she had stopped shaking. She pushed herself to shaky feet and dusted off her dress. At least she wasn’t hurt. At least that man wasn’t lying.
Akira Skye: Skye drew his staff while it was happeneing, but he was frozen in shock from acting; only to act after the fact. He rushed around Orskaf to the front; swinging his staff up once and then again. “YOU BASTARD! SHE WAS INNOCENT!”
Orskaf Donz: The staff went up and over Orskaf’s head as if the wind had lifted it out of the way. The Judge glanced back at him, totally unamused, in Orskaf’s mind if this boy was so daft that he didn’t even realize the gods were preventing them from hurting one another, then he wasn’t going to waist his breath trying to explain it again. He starred down the other rebels, and then slowly walked away from the outside camp, pushing himself inside.
Orskaf Donz: Orskaf stepped into the dungeon keep, his presence there was now a fact that sat sourly in the stomachs of every rebel there. There was nothing they could do to him, and nothing that he could do to them. He proceeded with caution anyway, he was after taking a risk by coming into this enemy territory. He paused, hearing the growl of a familiar beast. Shifting and approaching from the shadows, Orskaf saw his old dragon Shovel approaching him apprehensively, tail raised and wings spread to make himself seem bigger. “The damned dragon…” Orskaf breathed in belief. “My gods…”
Shovel stopped in front of him, sniffing, recognizing the scent and sound. There was a time once when Orskaf hadn’t treated the Nadder so terribly. In his opinion beating your animals made them ineffective, so he refrained from it. Of course this hadn’t stopped Orskaf from smacking the beast harshly on its rump or neck when it did something he disapproved of. But it was only in his careless old age that the man actually began wounding the poor thing. He pressed his lips together, placing his hand on the dragon’s nose firmly. He gripped Shovel’s nostrils and waved his head a little, and then let go. “Sorry bout the eyes ye poor bastard,” he said. “I lost myself a bit back then…” he clapped the Nadder under the chin once, and then the two parted in peace.
Orskaf stepped into the room where Haddock and the others rebels where trying to organize themselves in the midst of the recent chaos. For a moment a flash of guilt came to the man. He had seen the aftermath of war many times, and it always pained him. He saw battleofthegroundeddungeon catch him in his vision, and he said, speaking quietly. “I’m only here for my grandson…however many pieces he may be in…” he glanced away. “And then I’m leaving.”
Gareth Ragnar Haddock the Second: The king stiffened immediately as soon as he noticed Orskaf. “I’m not sure even your grandson finds you welcome here,” he said, voice trying to sound neutral but still very obviously terse. “Much less,” he said, straightening, which a quick warning shake to his head, “a king and adversary. What makes you think I will accept your relation?”
Orskaf Donz: “Because you have no choice…and neither do I. We are at an impasse, but if I meet with Blunt I will leave.” Orskaf told him.
“Here’s a choice,” Stonegit said, walking up to stand between him and Haddock. “Fuck yourself.” he exhaled, standing brave despite that he looked nervous. From the back of the cell block, Blunt pushed into the room, pausing when he saw Orskaf. Orskaf’s eyes locked on him, and the strode forward, but Stonegit got in his way. “Is there a problem here? Stonegit said…fuck off…”
Orskaf stopped in front of him, his face intense. He glared down at him, raising his chin slightly. “Pretty,” he said once, as if grunting someones name.
Stonegit’s angry raised expression fell slightly. “What?” he barely whispered.
Orskaf met his eyes with a scowl. “Pretty,” he growled, and then placed a finger on Stonegit’s forehead, and then pushed him aside as if he was a spoiled bit of food. He then marched past the others, grabbing Blunt’s shoulder. “We’re talking…now.”
“Yes we are,” Blunt said, his face livid as he followed him outside.
Stonegit stood frozen where he had been pushed, his eyes wide and unblinking.
Gareth Ragnar Haddock the Second: Haddock exhaled heavily, though he seemed no less tense now that Orskaf had left the room. If anything, he was more tense, staring at where Odin’s man of war had left.
“Do not mind him,” the king said, perhaps just as much to himself as to Stonegit.
Stonegit Brotchurn Elmiss: Stonegit continued to stand rigid in place, his eyes looking as if he was dazing off into anther world. Tornpike frowned as he looked up from the make shift table he was at. He walked over, patting his shoulder once. “Hey are you-?!”
Stonegit fell over, hitting the floor hard. His leg jerked and then curled stiffly, the muscles quivering. His head snapped to the side, his eyes still wide and unfocused.
Gareth Ragnar Haddock the Second: Haddock’s eyes widened and he lunged forward, trying to catch Stonegit. “Good Hel!” he gasped, shoving Tornpike aside without much thought. His hands hovered over Stonegit a moment but did not ultimately touch him. “Stonegit. Stonegit… can you…” he licked his lips. “You’re okay. You’re okay, Stonegit.”
Tornpike: Stonegit’s head jerked up and then slammed on the cell floor once, his hands seizing. Tornpike took off his coat and rolled it up, placing it under Stonegit’s head. “My King…my King!” he say, trying to get Haddock’s attention. “We need to roll him on his side and let him go…you can’t hold him still he’ll get hurt.”
Gareth Ragnar Haddock the Second: The king grit his teeth, angered he did not know what to do. “Okay then!!! GODS! I’m doing that! What else in Odin’s name should we be doing, expert?”
He noticed his own hands were shaking with worry.
Tornpike: Tornpike shook his head, stepping back a few paces. “We just…leave him. Make sure he doesn’t hit his head, or chokes…outside of that, we have to let him be.” Tornpike sighed, walking away a few paces, and then he said something that made Haddock’s blood boil.
“It must have been a trigger word…pretty…but why that word and why would that Donz bastard know what it was?”
Gareth Ragnar Haddock the Second: “Trigger word?” The king’s eyebrows furrowed angrily. “None of your business.”
Tornpike: “Um…Of course,” Tornpike said, bowing at the waist. His eyes were still furrowed. He had no idea what had happened to Stonegit…no one but the Haddock’s did. He figured it had to have been something from his past, but it still stuck him as odd. But seeing that the King was upset, Tornpike dismissed the thoughts, and returned to helping organized the camp.
Stonegit lay on the ground for five agonizing minutes, before his entire body went limp, the boy starting to pant heavily. He gulped, his chest heaving and his one eye glanced up at Haddock, and then looked away, his face turning red and hands slowly curling into fists.
Gareth Ragnar Haddock the Second: Haddock sighed, nodding to Tornpike with a quiet and belated, “Thanks,” before coming slowly up to Stonegit.
“Okay then,” he said softly. “I assume you would like some privacy. Go rest. I’ll be well-guarded in the meantime, I assure you. Unless you want me to come?”
Stonegit Brotchurn Elmiss: Breathing slowly, Stonegit sat up, he looked drained. He pressed his hands to his faces, rubbing it slightly before cautiously standing to his feet. “I’ll finish my shift first…then I’ll rest.”
Gareth Ragnar Haddock the Second: Haddock glared at Stonegit for that response. “Strangely enough, I feel I could use some quiet time myself,” he said, hoping Stonegit understood exactly what he was doing.
Stonegit Brotchurn Elmiss: Stonegit met his eyes and for a moment Haddock could see a flash of overwhelming gratitude, but then he blinked and returned to more more professional stance. “I…I will accompany you then.”
Gareth Ragnar Haddock the Second: “Wonderful. I appreciate it.” Haddock turned to the others in the room, speaking more loudly, “I am taking a short respite. You need not adjourn the meeting; continue working through any work needing to be done to settle this camp up properly. I will return for reports later in the day, so none need seek me out to inform me on any progress. The Lady Grey is in charge during my absence and you may speak to her.”
Orskaf Donz: Orskaf and Blunt marched out to a guard break room, Orskaf slamming the door behind him. There was a shifting of feet and immediately Orskaf ducked out of the way as Blunt lunged at him, swinging both his arms around in an attempted to put his hands around his grandfather’s throat. There was a short, tense moment of silence as Orskaf backed away from his boy, turning his head and giving him a wary look, his eyes full of warning. Blunt’s powerful shoulders were hunched as he starred at the old man, his eyes furious. Orskaf gave just the tiniest shake of his head, backing up a pace. “Don’t…you…do it…” he whispered.
Yelling with rage, Blunt changed him, grabbing him around the middle and hauling him up into the wall. Orskaf struggled, and then kicked his knee sharply, causing Blunt to drop him. He shoved him away, skirting around the table in the center of the room. Blunt spun to go after him, jumping up onto the table and hurling a fist, which Orskaf dodged. “I’ll kill you!” he yelled.
“I ought to do the same!” Orskaf hollered back at him, still backing away. “After what you did! These people killed your father boy and you act like you don’t even care!”
Blunt swung another fist, knocking over an end table, sending the battered playing cards and coins on it scattering across the room. “You had him…you him r…” Blunt swallowed the words. “You ruined his life!”
“HE ruined MINE! I died boy!” Orskaf yelled. “He killed me and then your father!”
“Oh like you didn’t deserve it?! Like you weren’t a threat to everyone around you including me!?” Blunt retorted, throwing a chair at him which clipped Orskaf’s shoulder.
“They killed your dad!”
“More than once I feared for my life by your hand, and now you have the audacity to actually admit you love me!?”
“They KILLED your DAD!”
You’re a sick fuck!” Blunt screamed, his voice raising dangerously. “And I will NEVER love you return!”
Orskaf starred at him, his face almost panicked. And then tears filled his eyes and he gritted in teeth. Letting out a yell of broken rage, he charged Blunt, plowing into him. His fists came around, hitting Blunt in his sides as he slammed him into the wall. Blunt fought back, kicking Orskaf back with a powerful shove, and this time it was him who threw his grandfather across a table. He pounced on him, trying to pin him down, but Orskaf landed more blows against him then he had when standing up. His face jerked to the side and his eyes blinked with shock as Blunt landed a powerful cross to his jaw. Then he spat out a bit of blood and threw Blunt off of him. Scrambling forward, he got on top of his grandson, pounding his fists into his chest and stomach, before finally bringing his head down to headbutt Blunt harshly in the forehead. Blunt rolled him off and scrabbled to his feet. In his rage he yanked off one of the table legs, hauling it over his head, and looking down at Orskaf.
The old man slowly stood to his feet. He shook his head, his face tight. “You fucking liar…” he said. “You never swore your soul to Hel…you never intended to.”
Blunt licked his lips, swallowing and taking a small, hesitant step forward.
Orskaf met his gaze. “What? You’re going to kill me now?
Blunt’s mouth moved, stammering slightly. “Y-yes?”
Orskaf pressed his lips together. “No you’re not boy…you’re no murderer. Not like him…” he reached out, and gently took the wooden leg from Blunt, the man letting his fingers slowly drop away from it. Orskaf starred down at the make shift weapon. He threw it aside violently, yelling up at Blunt. “Damn it boy! HE KILLED YOUR DAD!”
“You don’t think I know that!” Blunt yelled back, his voice going horse. “You don’t think I remember what he did to him!? The body I saw!? You don’t think I remember that, and deal with that every single time I look at him!?” he walked away, pacing in a circle. “I hate-!” he licked his lips. “You came after him! So did dad! He wouldn’t have done it if you had just left him alone. If YOU hadn’t attack him as a child!”
“Oh I injured him!” Orskaf said, throwing his hands in the air. “I guess that gives everyone a free pass to murder in cold blood! I was defenseless and he bashed my head in! So was your dad, and he crushed it! He didn’t stab him or make it clean…he, crushed, his, HEAD!”
“Like you’re any better?!” Blunt retorted.
“Don’t…you DARE point fingers at me!” Orskaf yelled back. “You’re just a miserable, greedy scam who only came here to shame me and get rich!”
Blunt waved a hand, turning his back on him. “You’re insane…”
Orskaf watched as his back was turned, and then quickly picked up a small dinner knife that was on the floor, abandoned by a guard a long time ago. He palmed it, hiding it against his arm. “No…” he breathed. “I know why you’re here boy. Because I know how Donz’s work.”
Blunt looked back at him, his eyes wide.
Orskaf walked towards him. “You stole your fathers prized ship, and all his lavish, self indulging possessions, and set off for the rebellion. You knew that rebellion had stripped a Central dungeon, and raided various Central village outposts. You knew that despite them being a rag tag band of criminals, that they had goods, rare and valuable good, from the raid. You knew they would take you in and let you say, they were doing it for everyone.” Orskaf raised a finger. “So you poked around, got involved with personal matters, and figured out where the treasury was, the King’s quarters, and the stock rooms. You flirted and flattered your way into nearly every nook and cranny of that fortress.”
“I was there…” Blunt said dangerously. “To make things right.”
“Bullshit!” Orskaf snapped, slapping him. “Don’t disrespect me by thinking me so stupid! You came to make things right…but it wasn’t for Stonegit…not really.” Orskaf said, raising his chin. “You wanted to make me turn in my grave by giving a helping hand to my murderer. You wanted to get him back to Port Krum so that everyone would quite forget about your theft. And most of all, you wanted at least one person who could get you on the inside. Then, you were going to wait for a time when they were vulnerable, kidnap the King, steal whatever you could afford to take from the storage room, pile it all onto your boat, collect the rebel King’s bounty…and sail off into the sunset richer than a Central mage” Orskaf took a long breath. “But then you fell in love with him to spite me.”
Blunt did a double take. “What?!” he yelled as Orskaf paced away from him.
“You heard me!”
Blunt gripped his head. “Good…god!” he half yelled with frustration. “Ok! Fine! Yes, that was the plan! What else was I supposed to do? Keeping living on that spit of land you’re so proud of?! Burn up all that wealth? No shit I decided to rob a bunch of criminals! But…” he pressed his face into his hands, dragging them down and letting the, drop back to his side. “But thing’s changed. The King was dead when I go there, supposedly. And…they were just…different. They…they showed me bravery. I had lived as a coward for so long, that I thought, hey, maybe I have a chance to be better. They may be criminals…but they’re still better, than me…” he shook his head. “So day by day I began abandoning my plan, sure I patched stuff up with Stones as quick as I could, thinking I would be flying to coop but…things just…changed.” he glared at him. “And you’re mad if you think I would fall in love with my dad’s killer just to spite you. Shit…do you even know how falling in love works!?”
“Well good for you,” Orskaf sneered. “Look what this wrought? This where this got you? See the disaster your bravery placed you!? You are damned boy! Damned if you stay here and live this through!”
Blunt shrugged. “I figure…there’s a god out there, and it certainly ain’t Hel or Loki. And I think I have just a good a chance of surviving this as anybody.”
For a second, Orskaf’s hard outer appearance fell, and he walked up to him, speaking to Blunt more softly then he ever had before in his life. “Come with me my grandson, be safe under Odin’s care, I will see it that you live…I-I will forgive for what you’ve done.”
Blunt closed his eyes. “No…” he said.
Orskaf’s eyes shifted with panic. “Oh child…please don’t make me do this. Don’t make me go without you, only to come back with an army…”
Blunt opened his eyes, and then walked around the wrecked room. He stopped at the door, and then pushed it open, his face stony, and unforgiving.
Orskaf’s face hardened again and became red with embarrassment. He had never begged before in his life and the gesture was cast away without so much as a word of gratitude. He stiffened his back, marching past him but stop to turn and grab his shirt, jerking Blunt down to face level. “You’re a Donz boy…and you have no intention of seeing that battlefield do you?”
Blunt pulled away, brushing off his shirt. “I’m with them till the end.” He said. “I have a lot of proving to do…to Stonegit.”
Orskaf’s lip curled at the name and he spat on the floor, stalking down the hall. He paused at the exit, looking back at him. “Donz’s do what should be done…what must be done…and you’re going to do just that…for you.” one tear escaped Orskaf’s eye, but on the side opposite of Blunt’s vision. “You’ll be gone by the time I leave camp.” with that, the man left, heading back to his outpost.
Blunt curled his hands into fists. His lips pressing together tightly.