Tracyarmav

Prized Bride (A New Beginning)

Gwillim Gunnvaldr

_{Husband of Scyrvensrel Talyrrth-Gunnvaldr @Amethyst and Hestia Gristmill @eclecticwitch
Interacting with: Scyrven @Amethyst and Hestia Gristmill @eclecticwitch}

Gwillim was momentarily surprised by the semi-conscious clinging of Hestia... Alfhi was the only other creature to cling to him, and she did it rarely. Maybe this gem wasn't a complete waste then... Leaving his bride in the tender-ish cares of his wife, Gwillim went hunting.

He found many drukken drakkan but none had the prizes he wanted. He stalked along the dimly lit roads, using the shadows instinctively as he sought to find a trace of his prey. There were many new gems in the capitol, and many fights to claim them. Gwillim found one such fight already underway. Two lords aspiring to have another gem apiece fought for the other's gem, while the gems cowered together against stone wall under a torch... With a smile, he fashion a simple shank blade, by freezing the mingled blood of the combatants. A single quick, calculated gesture later left both the young fools in shock as they stared at each other wondering how the other had managed to strike their throat. It was only as they began to collapse that either of them realized they weren't alone anymore. The shank, still dripping fresh blood, hovered before the two terrified gems, drawing their attention from their husbands corpses. A tall and imposing figure stepped forth, into the dim light of the torch.

“You both belong to me now, unless you're keen to join your late husbands...”

They were not. They stood and followed the man, when he beckoned to them. He lead them to a small set of rooms occasionally used for ... unpleasant conversations, by his family. It was well guarded, especially tonight. He locked the two girls in a cell, and made it clear to the guards he would be bringing more. Perhaps enough for them all to have some fun, if they did their jobs properly. Thus motivating them to stay alert, for a time, Gwillim left to find other rich squabbles. He found six more gems, and a few new cuts and abrasions, but nothing serious. With eight, well nine counting Hestia, gems in his possession he made good on his promise to the night guards, leaving four gems for their pleasure. He and some guards from the main compound that he had collected for this purpose, escorted the remaining four gems to the main compound. It was done quietly, but it did not go unnoticed. He only hoped the princes would be to busy to care...

---

Falling to the floor, she slammed into it. It knocked the wind from her for a moment but the tears still spilt freely down her face as she curled up, struggling for breath. After a moment or two, she was able to push herself up and she moved toward the door. Desperate hands fumbled against the knob. She couldn't breathe. She was going to be beaten for sure. She had to hurry. Finally, the door opened and she fumbled her way down the hall, attempting to be as quiet as possible. She felt light-headed as she held her breath to avoid any more sounds of tears. 'Please... Please don't let him know. I promise. I'll be good. Please, I'll be better. I won't do it again. Just, please. Please!' her mind screamed as she used the wall to support herself while she approached a staircase.

@eclecticwitch

A strong hand, suddenly clasped Hestia's free hand, and yanked backwards in an attempt to spin her around before she got to the stairs. A child's voice hissed at her from the shadows, as the nearest torch was mounted behind Alfhildr from Hestia's vantage point. "Where are you going at this time of night? You'll get torn apart if you go out there tonight!" The child was a little under six feet tall already, but was thin and not as domineering as the adults. She wore a thin woolen shirt that fell to her knees at the hem and elbows at the sleeve, though her feet were bare and her hair a tangly mess. She was genuinely confused as to why Hestia wanted to run out into the crowded drakkan capitol at this time of night.

Summary

Gwillim spends the night hunting and killing lesser lords with gems and stockpiling his find. He keeps the four prettiest ones for himself and tries to sneak them into the family compound an hour before dawn.

Alfhi isn't sleeping well, and hears the commotion next door, catching Hestia just before she reaches the stairs.

Prized Bride (A New Beginning)

Gwillim Gunnvaldr

_{Husband of Scyrvensrel Talyrrth-Gunnvaldr @Amethyst and Hestia Gristmill @eclecticwitch
Interacting with: Scyrven @Amethyst and Hestia Gristmill @eclecticwitch}

Things weren't going quite as planned true but they seemed to be going well enough. Gwillim began discarding his armor. A feat that should not have been possible alone, but he'd long since learned to use bits of ice to both tie and untie the armor, as needed. He was just finishing up when the gem whispered something to Scyrvensrel and then ... fell to the floor. So much for things going well tonight...

Gwillim considered lashing out at the gem, but it was a common enough occurrence for some gems to be overwhelmed by the reaping process and find themselves in need of some time to adjust to the new life. Historically, if given time to adjust they tended to last better than most of the other gems. He'd let the girl rest. He watched as Scyrvensrel tended to the gem, a slight scowl on his face. At least Scyrven seemed to like Hestia... so that was a plus. Still... He was kinda looking forward to getting his own cherry pie, and now that was, as Scyrven noted quite out of the question thanks to the gem's frailty. Of course, if they'd been granted two gems, he'd still have one to play with right? or would there be two bodies to glare at? And why should the blood wait till dawn to spill anyway?

“I find myself ill suited to rest, I have an itch that needs tending. Rest if you can, someone will need to be level headed in the morning.”

Gwillim dressed in light leather breeches and hardened leather vest over a padded jerkin. He added a thick leather belt to which he attached his karambit, a longer one handed saber, and a flask of water, so he'd always have his element near by. His feet donned supple leather boots, he was going stalking, he didn't need heavy shoes to announce his presence. He was just buzzed enough to for is anger to simmer, even though there was plenty of logical explanations for events tonight. He'd been expecting too much clearly, but there was still a chance to see those hopes come to fruition... And he was just drunk enough to be willing to risk the wrath of a prince by declaring their judgment wrong so openly.

He stood and walked over to the gem, to Hestia... He could probably wake her and still have a good night. But that required focus, and precision that his mind was struggling to maintain. The armor was a habit now, and he could do it in his sleep, almost. But this... if he messed something up she'd be dead. No, he'd let nature run it's course. He carefully lifted Hestia, and moved her to the silk sheeted bed, prepared for her. Tucking the gem in, he re-applied the cool cloth Scyrven had provided to the gem's forehead. He stood watching her rest a moment, his face blank, thoughtful. His rational portions wanted him to avoid trouble tonight, but the tourney had his blood lust running, and this was as good an excuse as any to feed it. He reviewed in his head the Drakkan he had seen that night, and began making a list of potential targets.

Summary

Gwillim is disappointed by his brides' weakness. Having fought in the tourney all day he's got an itch to kill something and now he has nothing better to do. He's contemplating who to kill now, though he hasn't left his room yet, he will soon be hunting Drakkan with gems to lose...

Prized Bride (A New Beginning)

God i need to just be beat with a 50 lb mallet.

@Zahrale

Obliges...

Prized Bride (A New Beginning)

@Belle *shares milk and happily accepts cookies*

Prized Bride (A New Beginning)

*Sits next to Belle, also waiting.*

[HIGH CASUAL] Her Majesty's Spirit

Still working out how much time I'll have to devote to this, looks like less than I wanted to have. If I can pull something together it will likely be a warlock character or a mercenary. Perhaps a mercenary warlock, just to constantly play the dread and fear most people have of them, even though they fight on the same side.

Prized Bride (A New Beginning)

Gwillim Gunnvaldr

_{Husband of Scyrvensrel Talyrrth-Gunnvaldr @Amethyst and Hestia Gristmill @eclecticwitch
Interacting with: Scyrven @Amethyst and Hestia Gristmill @eclecticwitch}

Gwillim came back to the present, more or less, as Hestia introduced herself. He was quite glad Scyrvensrel was taking a liking to the gem, and pleased that they hadn't gotten the runt of the reaping. He gladly agreed to the proposed shopping trip, though it was likely he'd dip out for a time and catch up to them before the end of the day. He did not take pleasure in hearing the gem's protests. He kept his hand on Scyrvensrel's should as he bent down enough to put his head just behind Hestia's nearest ear. His voice was quite, soft, and cold as a sudden draft in a barrow, or light breeze in a foggy grave yard.

“If indeed you wish to avoid trouble gemling, you'll not deny my wife again. If she wants to take you shopping, then the only being alive with a chance of stopping her is me; and even I try not to cross her without due cause. If you remember nothing else of tonight Hestia, remember to never cross my wife, upon thy life.”

Gwillim rose back to his full height, careful not to graze the pretty thing with his horns and resumed gently sandwiching the girl between himself and his mate. He noticing that some of the gems were a bit noisier in their complaints than Hestia had been, and wondered how many of them would still be able to scream come morning. He decided it would be best for them to with draw, lest some lesser lordling get jealous and try to pry Hestia away, not that he'd succeed, but the necessary bloodshed might embitter the doomed souls relative into a feud that would only serve to distract Gwillim from his current goals. He turned slowly, using gentle pressure from his arm to tell Scyrven where he was going, without having to say anything. He kept his eyes and ears on the thinning crowd mostly, though he was careful to maintain constant contact with both his mate and their new bride.

Back at the Gunnvaldr estate, he and Scyrven were welcomed warmly by the family and congratulated by many cousins, uncles, aunts, nieces and nephews, all of whom introduced themselves by first name to the gem bride tucked safely between the couple. Alfhildr danced around the pair not quite sure what to make of Hestia just yet, and though she was a tad jealous of all the attention she was getting. Still, the girl looked so ... fragile. How could she be of any use to her father where her own mother could not? She almost made the mistake of asking public, but, caught her self in time with the aid of stern look from Gwillim who had caught her expression and guessed at her thoughts. Alfhildr recovered by welcoming Hestia to her family, politely, though the child's eyes carried a hint of challenge still. A small feast of light foods and weak, if flavorful, ales and wines was served. Both Gwillim and Scyrven had fights in the morning, as well as one of the older cousins. The family would not risk their abilities tomorrow with wanton excesses this night.

Retiring to their bed chamber, a low but surprisingly comfortable bedroll had been made with silk sheets and two down pillows, also covered in silk. It was set at the foot of Gwillim and Scyrven's bed. Gwillim noticed it upon entering the room, and nodded, finally breaking contact with both his wife and bride, as he moved to the corner of his room where the stand for his armor stood waiting. He began removing his armor, talking as he went.

“Hestia, be a good lass and help Scyrven out of her armor. ... Dearest, what takes priority; our lovely bride or tomorrows tourney matches? Though, if my first day of matches was any indicator we could easily be up half the night or more and suffer no loss or harm come daylight. What say you? A bit of fun before bed, or shall we save the fun for when we are away from prying ears and eyes?"

Summary

Gwillim informs Hestia that she'll find the path of least resistance by obeying Scyrvensrel, notes other gems being less than pleased with their matches, and takes bride and wife home for a light celebratory meal before bed.

[HIGH CASUAL] Her Majesty's Spirit

May be interested... Mostly a matter of having time to participate. (schedule is fluctuating somewhat)

Prized Bride (A New Beginning)

Gwillim Gunnvaldr

_{Husband of Scyrvensrel Talyrrth-Gunnvaldr @Amethyst and [?] of [TBA] [@"?"]
Interacting with: Scyrven @Amethyst}

Wearing an armor akin to lamellar, but of a metallic construction. It would resist pummeling from both earth and fire magics in particular. Still few bothered to use their magic as anything more than a supporting ability, but Gwillim had other plans. He enjoyed watching his wife best the little fool, not that he'd have allowed the filth to take his wife as a matter of pride, but it was good to see that she had bested him of her own accord. Gwillim wrapped his arms around his victorious mate as she came off the field and held her tight, grinning and whispering to her a soothing sort of gloat over the little lordling and of her clear display of prowess with her weapon. He used his talent with water to help relax her muscles and cool her body after the fight, leaving her only a little tired from the exertion and ready to face the next fight when it came.

His own fight came up, and he reluctantly released Scyrvensrel after a lingering moment, to give his companions plenty to be jealous about. He grabbed his poleaxe and headed into the arena, finding his place and offering a simple military salute to the royals box. He astutely ignored the crowd, and watched his opponent as the fool played to the crowd's whims. Match start was signaled, and the drakken, a landless brute hoping to prove himself in todays tourney, charged Gwillim with shield raise to protect head and torso. The brute's axe was drawn back to swing on impact. He wore a chainmail hauberk and simple iron cap. Good gear for a landless brute. Gwillim side stepped the advance gracefully, shocking the crowd into titters and subdued jeering. The Brute stopped, before crashing into the arena wall, realizing his mistake a little late. He spun, swinging the axe in a lateral back hand. Gwillim was to far away for the axe to bite him, but his poleaxe had greater reach, and it's head flashed suddenly towards the brute's weapon shoulder. The sudden shift caught the brute off guard and he struggled to shift his own mass away from the attack. He only just avoided losing his arm, instead the sound of wood splintering could be heard through the arena as the brute's axe haft was cut clean in two. Stunned, the brute missed the follow up of the poleaxe's haft to helm with another resounding crack, as Gwillim spun the weapon around his dominant hand and continued the attack with out loosing any momentum.

The brute fell to his knees, and the guards called the fight hurriedly as the realized that Gwillim's next strike would decapitate his unconscious foe. His blade stopped milimeters from the brute's neck, and Gwillim slowly withdrew a step, turning to offer the same simple salute to the royal's box, before marching smartly out of the Arena. He was a showman of his own style, he didn't cater to the crowds, but none could deny his skill. He'd not even gotten the chance to use his elements, the brute's attacks had been so rudimentary that Gwillim had withheld his arsenal of elemental attacks simply because the brute offered him no challenge, much to his disappointment. He returned to his wife's side, and slung an arm around her shoulders as he complained quietly.

"That wasn't even a match, my cousins could put forth a better challenge than he did. I thought this tourney was of Drakka's best, not every street rat that could hold a blade... "

Summary

Gwillim ignores the crowds as he faces a landless challenger that he disdains and trounces easily. He scorns his opponent in private conversation with his wife afterwards.

Prized Bride (A New Beginning)

Gwillim Gunnvaldr

_{Husband of Scyrvensrel Talyrrth-Gunnvaldr @Amethyst and [?] of [TBA] [@"?"]
Interacting with: Scyrven @Amethyst}

Gwillim rose early and stretched carefully, before donning his armor. It took some time, and a bit of help from Scyrvensrel to manage it all, but he did manage it. He then helped her don her own kit. His armor was a bit heavier than it usually was in the field, but not by much. Certainly not enough to cause him problems, since he wouldn't also have to march in it all day before the fight began. He ate a cold breakfast quickly, before setting out to enter the tourney with his wife. Well, not with exactly, but simultaneously anyway.

The day would be warm, for the local, but the morning still felt a bit cool to Gwillim... the lack of smothering humidity helped immensely. He strode proudly beside his wife, entering the arena, and speaking with the necessary officiators. He fought in full plate, with a pollax. It would serve to keep his opponents off balance, as they would only anticipate it being used to keep them at bay. Well, except for his wife, but she would be his toughest opponent by far. He looked forward to seeing her in the finals of the tourney.

After the necessities had been dealt with he stood back observing those who had deigned not to participate in the fight, or perhaps only been invited to watch. He noted many had royal gems keeping them ... company, until things got interesting. He gestured with his weapon towards the stands, as he commented on those particular gems to his wife.

“How'd you like to have one of those to play with? Think if we do well enough, they'll let us use one or two while we're in town?”

Summary

Gwillim dons kit and signs up to fight. Watches the stands and notices the royal gems while chatting with his wife. Also, his kit: