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9 yrs ago
Current Checking some stuff out!

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I'm Sterling, I've been writing/roleplaying for 11 years now. I like reading, writing, singing, dancing, horse back ridding and dog training.

I like highly detailed plots and games. While I don't think all posts should be three or four paragraphs long, I think it is harder to have quality with stunted posts.

I'm more into fantasy and historical than sci fi etc. but if the writers are good, that's really what matters.

Please feel free to message me. I'm fairly good at being nice.

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Pity and scorn crossed the man’s face as he watched the witch struggle with his pendants. The fact that he struggled so and seemed entirely discombobulated over the ordeal made the villager inclined to dismiss the witch and walk off.

But he knew the man was off to the ship for the sake of the village, and this villager in question did not need the shield weighing down on his arm. All the more he himself had young children. They needed people like the witch to go out and seek the tribes fortune.

So it was with an aggravated sigh of discontent that he took the pendant, wiping it off on his tunic before pocketing it and leveling the shield for the witch to take.

“May it serve you well…” He muttered begrudgingly and turned to go.
Peering over the edge of the ship Ásdís smiled back at her reflection before stowing away her gear and standing near Hralding as he was the final voice of who would join the crew. She felt entirely lucky and slightly satisfied with her place on board and tried to hide the smug smile coming to her.

The witch was hollering at him. The man in question looked about rapidly, almost as if hoping he had misunderstood and in actuality the witch was calling to someone else. As it were no such luck was to be found.

Frowning heavily the man with the shield wandered closer to the Witch. In reality he didn’t need the shield anymore but the idea of selling it to Hrifa was undesirable. Wrestling for the need for more copper in his pockets than a shield that would see no action this season the tribesman crossed his arms over his chest as if pouting.

“How much do you have?” He sneered back.

Ásdís was not entirely surprised to see the smallest and youngest of the children as well as the oldest or most loathsome of the miscreants were turned away. This would be a hodgepodge crew but certainly not a damned one. With pride Ásdís gestured to the various empty rows, directing the new comers with some self-inflicted authority as to where they ought to sit. When she caught Hralding eyeing her with interest and speculation the red head blushed but remained in place. She was no girl to be sent about as he liked. She would show him an iron will, the will of a warrior. And Warrior's did not quake in the gaze of their leaders. Sniffing she instead head her head up high.
“Hrífa?” She replied, the name was familiar. Ásdís watched him carefully as he attentively stowed his belongings. Her original thought that the man had been injured or ill and that was why he was considered undesirable for the tilling was confirmed. His belongings were maintained but old and even with repair some in disuse. Ásdís felt a pang for the man, had he no family to look after him? It was not right for a Viking to live so meagerly…

These thoughts were cut off abruptly by the voice of Hralding. Startled Ásdís jumped and looked about, catching his bright sharp gaze on Hrífa’s. His look was something of disapproval. The redhead looked back to her companion uncertainly. Had Hralding said Hrífa’s full name was Rat-Eater?

People with names like that were…well… Ásdís had never really been allowed to be around them. Undesirable wasn’t even the start of it, they were ostracized and not a part of the community. Most lived in little huts out in the wilderness with no tribe or neighbors to help protect them from the harsh world.

Realization sank in and Ásdís felt horrified. She had been consorting with one of THEM?!

Just as quickly did her feelings of horror fade to be replaced with confusion. But Hrífa had been seemingly a typical man…at least to her. He did not seem mad in the head, or sick in the heart… He hadn’t tried to harm her or turn her to his nasty shameful ways the way Ásdís had always been told his kind would… She had avoided the unmentionables and they had avoided her. Ásdís thought it was because they were dangerous and weak…But her tall companion hadn’t seem that bad…he was here now, wasn’t he?

Tentative in her feelings for Hrífa, Ásdís turned to Hralding who appraised her now. A blush covered her cheeks rapidly and she ducked her head in agreement. She was indeed Adlif’s daughter. “Ásdís” she supplied, both pleased that Hralding was looking at her at all, and embarrassed he was to see her with someone like Hrífa…

Typically a chatty girl, and certainly she had been with Hrífa, Adlif’s daughter stood mutely and uncomfortable while Hralding’s stoic stare was anywhere near her.

The moment he distracted by more new comers the redhead elbowed Hrífa and settled her own belongings near his. “Why didn’t you tell me you were one of THEM?” She wanted to know, her tone accusatory and curious all at once. Having never really spoken to níðingr Ásdís’ feelings of apprehension were easily replaced with inquisitiveness. “Do you really eat RATS?” She wanted to know, small pointed nose squishing up at the idea but a mere smile of delight tracing her lips.
If Hrífa was here now then it meant he had seen the error of his ways and wanted to step back onto the glorious, RIGHT, path. Besides, he was far less intimidating than Hralding. Surely there was no shame in giving him a second chance?

Nervously Ásdís looked back over her shoulder at Hralding, but he was still attending the various recruits. Scooting closer Ásdís murmured “He’s so… handsome…” Blushing she shook her head. “And strong. Precisely what I hope to be.”
Clambering aboard Ásdís let out a sigh of relief, reassured by the lack of angry shouts calling her back off the ship. Her place all the more firmer the red head carefully stowed her pack and belongings and started weaving down along the length of the ship, gaze flickering between her friend and the beautiful Hralding.

Nervously Ásdís smoothed her sweating hands down the front of her sturdy woolen tunic and leaned closer to the tall man.

“My Friend…” She murmured, careful to make sure Hralding was not looking their way. “You still have not given me your name…”
Trotting along the shoreline and onto the docks Ásdís seemed oblivious to the bickering between parents and children as she approached the ship. A perfect specimen of …Well…Ship shape ness the red head had only eyes for the prow (alright fine, her eyes may have also glanced over the other perfect specimen on the prow) and deck, the waves lapping at the wooden sides and the carvings along the stern. This ship would be her home for the months to come.

Sidling along the pier Ásdís found herself scuttling past the man from the day before. He did not look as cheerful as she felt and the redhead happily bumped against the tall man. “A wonderful day to sail out, don’t you think?” Peering up at the man Ásdís couldn’t help but hear the words of an angry mother behind her.

Of course it was not HER angry mother, but still, the sentiment was harsh.

“—already have too many hands, and you are but a lad. You will stay here and next season—“

The child in question protested even as he was being drug away. Ásdís looked about in fear, her eyes widening. Was it true?! Was Hralding making them choose who was to go and who was to stay? Were there too many volunteers?

The idea of going back to the farm, never even setting foot on the ship. It was too much to bear. Biting her lips until they were bright red and almost swollen Ásdís straightened her shoulders, lifted her head proudly and grabbed her friend by the elbow. They were getting on the ship and the voyage no matter what. Marching past the families still in disagreement Ásdís kept her gaze on the plank, on the entrance to her birth right. Her future. Her everything.

“We are getting on this ship.” She said with such determination it was impossible to disagree. If she had to cling to the side of the ship as they sailed through the cold waters she would.
The last night with her family had been a tiring one. They ate heartily (Ásdís wasn’t entirely sure where her mother found the extra stores but knew better than question her authority and instead was gracious in accepting the meal with thanks) and told stories of the raids and battles her father and brothers had been a part of in times before. Then wearily Ásdís bedded down and despite the fear she would lie awake all night dreaming of the morning to come she slept.

Another large breakfast and her bags slung over her shoulder Ásdís was surprised by the solid spear and leather armor her father delivered. They were good quality, at least to the villages standards and Ásdís was touched her family was suppling her so. With tears in her eyes she clung to her father fiercely, whispering she would be honorable and he had nothing to fear before severing their hug and rushing off to where the long boat would be waiting.

Cresting a hill she looked down at the shore and her future. A lump of fear rolled about in her belly but the red head shoved it aside. Vikings would not fear such a journey, no matter how far from home or how little they had ever traveled. And she was a Viking.

With a little whoop Ásdís started to run down the hill, her packs hanging from each arm and her spear gripped tightly in her left hand. It wasn’t until she was half way down the hill that she realized the momentum she was building was a bit too much. Trying to slow herself the smallest Bright Eye nearly tripped head over feet. In catching herself she veered drastically off course and found herself plummeting into a dune with an alarming thump!

Struggling to her feet Ásdís looked about to see if anyone had caught her shameful lack of grace, her cheeks redder than her hair.
Adlif found himself watching the odd witch scuttle away with the strange sense of laughter coming to him. Had the witch just boldly ignored Adlif’s wishes? Implied that Ásdís would be his whether or not Adlif said so? Stood up to him in effect? Or was the man so devoid of human contact that he completely missed the possible meanings?

Or…Genuinely had no lecherous intentions? The thought that the Witch could be within the realm of reasonable men disturbed Adlif and his way of thinking and so he shook it off and turned to return to the farm where Ásdís was already detailing the events of the meeting to her brothers and mother with great enthusiasm.

“And Hralding is by far the most masculine, strong armed of the men I have ever seen. He will make a great leader and we will be vastly successful!”

Adlif held back the scoffing laugh he felt rising up. If this was his last night with his daughter he did not want her memories to be of disloyalty and derision.

“Yes, you will have many adventures to be sure.” Adlif agreed, settling next to his wife Aten. He settled a broad hand on her thigh, squeezing it reassuringly as he could tell she was greatly apprehensive for their smallest daughter’s wellbeing. Of course there was no shame in dying a warriors death, and ones death was a fixed point upon the time of their birth. Ásdís would die when it was her time and not a moment sooner and so if she were to parish on this first voyage it was the fate she had been granted whether or not her family sheltered her from it…

Still, to have birthed and raised, clean and fed a creature for as many years as they had Ásdís a parent could not but hope their efforts were not in vain. Looking at the gleeful smile on her plump lips, the wild look in her green eyes, her red hair smoothed from her face and falling straight down her back as the maidens wore it, Adlif felt the strong urge to keep his smallest one here by the hearth. Lock her away and keep her safe.

Sighing Adlif patted his wife’s leg and watched as Ásdís packed away her meager life’s possessions. She had to go, he knew it now. But that did not make it any easier for Adlif.
Goosebumps ran down her arms at the promise of hard work. Ásdís was so ready.

Recognizing the dismissal she filtered out of the mead-hall slowly, careful not to be caught staring at Hralding (though she definitely stole a few more glances his way) while meandering through the throngs of people. Her mind wandered to what it was going to be like, to be a Viking in reality rather than just name. She thought of the treasures she’d bring home and the heroic deeds to her name, a sweet smile coming to her lips as she finally felt the damp fresh air hit her cheeks.

Blinking in the watery sunlight Ásdís wondered if there were any more chores she ought to worry about before heading back to the farm. To pack! A skip to her step the red head started her way down the lane before spotting her father.

Surprised to see who his companion was Ásdís hurried along to meet the two men.

Adlif could see Ásdís coming out of the mead hall . She’d be with them very soon. His sharp eyes narrowed and he moved to grab the witch by the back of the neck. From afar this would look like a friendly gesture, pulling the man in for a confidential word. His grip however was not friendly.

“You stay away from Ásdís. You and your Children Of Trees. Ásdís has no business wielding spears of any sorts!” He growled.

Adlif hadn’t been sure if the witch truly meant they had been discussing weaponry or the man had been making some lude remark to his manhood. Either was an unacceptable answer for Adlif, but if he put his foot down about the man he was sure his daughter would be contrary.

Best to let her realize the witch was a weakling and a coward on her own.

A smile crossed Adlif’s face suddenly and he boomed with laughter as his daughter skipped up. Her green eyes moved between the two men uncertainly but she smiled all the same as it was good to see her father in such a bright mood.

“You missed it!” She cried, turning to her companion breathlessly. “Hralding gave a magnificent speech…Really got the blood stirring!” The dreamy look in her eyes said it all. Ásdís was in love with her future, unable to see anything but the glory it was sure to be. She sighed romantically and pushed a lock of her dark red hair away from her rosie cheeks.

“It will be splendid! We will sail, and raid and I will have many accolades to my name, and you yours my friend” she added generously to the witch, clapping him on the arm. “We’ll be true Vikings and no one will question our place in the tribe anymore…”

Ásdís started to go on down the path past her father and his friend, she needed to ready her things after all. She paused and turned with a cheery look. “And you can teach me how to wield your spear!” Oblivious to the alarm this proclamation might have brought to her father or her new found friend Ásdís went on her merry way.

Adlif’s hard eyes narrowed even more as his daughter sauntered off. Turning those hard eyes on the witch it seemed as if Adlif was considering right then and there to kill the man and save himself any worry while Ásdís was gone.
Acutely aware of Hralding circling the group Ásdís made an extra effort to stand up straight, her shoulders back, assuming what she could only hope was a look of self-assuredly calm and readiness at what was to come. In reality the way her green eyes flickered to Hralding belied her inability to look away and eagerness to please him.

Yes she would be a warrior for the personal glory, and yes she was joining to help their tribe, but now she had a mighty leader who she would fight for diligently. She would never give him reason to quarrel with Ásdís. She’ d make herself, her family, her tribe and her mighty leader proud.

Any doubts Ásdís might have had previously evaporated at the stirring in her heart Hralding caused. Surely this was the loyalty and preeminence she heard the older warriors speak of? What it was to truly be a Viking?

Adlif frowned deeply, the lines and crinkles of his face becoming stone at the witch’s dismissive tone. Did he think Adlif would believe such a falsehood?

“Trees…” He repeated as if the witch might reconsider his story and choose the honorable truth rather than these womanly deceits.

“Whatever it was you spoke of…You will leave Ásdís alone.” There was no doubt in her father’s voice, the threat there not even thinly veiled. He leaned closer to the witch. While they were a similar height, Adlif was by far broader. “She is a good girl and you are not to corrupt her with your…your devious ways.” The larger man loomed over the witch for a moment longer then straightened his shoulders. If the witch was truly a coward as rumor had it then this warning should be enough to keep his daughter out of harm’s way.
Ásdís watched as the tall man disappeared, he hadn’t even introduced himself, in disbelief. Where could he want to be that was more important than being here? Now? This hall, meeting the captain. This was her destiny surely! She’d meet it head on.

Turning to see the captain she recognized him immediately. Of course Ásdís had never had reason to approach Hralding, let alone speak to him, but he was easily identifiable. Tall, broad, fair, ice in his veins or so she had heard the other warriors say. He was an accomplished man and Ásdís found herself lingering at the back of the pack, watchful as Hralding considered his new crew.

Was he amused by the lot? Angered? Hopeful? Ásdís could not tell, his expression too guarded and hidden from view for her to guess at his thoughts. Surely this was no small task to be under taking, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t excited by it all.

Ice blue eyes fell over her and Ásdís could feel a blush covering her cheeks, green eyes meeting the icy stare of their leader for a moment longer than they ought to have before she dropped her gaze to the ground. Her stomach fluttered nervously and the redhead frowned. She was a warrior! Not some fickle maiden turned to puddles by some man’s gaze.

Straightening her back Ásdís told herself firmly to look up, chin up. She belonged here.

Out beyond the hall Adlif was making his way slowly back to the farm, weary with the days events, with the knowledge that his daughter would be leaving at first light. His gaze was fixed on the path before him when the tone of the villagers behind him changed. Murmurs and whispers took on an accusatory tone.

Adlif turned to see what had changed his peers and saw the witch shuffling out of the mead hall. The coward was not even staying to meet the captain. Ásdís’ father straightened, and turned to intercept the witch.

“What were you doing with Ásdís?” He wanted to know, his tone sharp and displeased.
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