Thread: Demonfall (RedOnesGoFaster and EverUndine)

There could have been no saving the boy, Aldric knew. Harald's brother, Ulfric, would hold a grudge against the Iron Mage for the rest of his days. Maren would never speak it, and if pressed would loudly decry it, but Aldric knew that deep down, whether the lad would admit it or not, he was blamed for the death. Another duty of the one in command. Bloody divines, if she could have done something for one of his men, for any of them, he'd have kissed her on the spot, but they both knew that every man here, laid out for the pyres, had been beyond saving long before then. She had made them whole, though, and they would go to the golden hall up high with swords in their hands and a full body to enjoy. Aye, well... I still owe ya thanks. He tilted his head briefly in Ulfric's direction, his voice low. An' so does Ulfric, though I don't reckon you'll ever get it. I wouldn't push fer it, neither. With the cart loaded up, he was helping Ieran unload the great bundles of newly cut timber. Most didn't care about elves, no. Aldric had had more contact with them than most, though he'd been known to toss around the slur knife-ear from time to time for chuckles. Still, as he'd said in the past upon seeing elves at work, if they truly were sub-human, then someone had to explain to him what that made him, because some elves were just plain better than he was. Not many... but they existed. Oughtta be everyone carin', these days, he grumbled, a few big branches clattering as he lowered them. World in the state it's in, we don't have th' luxury to be shitty to one another. Conversation was kept light, considering he only spoke to Ieran in the times he came back from the woods with a cart full of kindling, and within a few hours they'd both finished the burning of the demons and the construction of the pyres. Night had fallen as Aldric lit each pyre, one by one, and the commander came to stand with his men in silent vigil. He'd reclaimed his cloak, wrapping it around himself for warmth in the night's chill, his eyes shining with the lights of the flames as they consumed his dead soldiers. Aldric stood, hard and still and silent as a statue, eyes on that fire as his men began to slowly trickle away in search of their night's meal. Once Ulfric had gone, he was alone, and at last he registered that feeling of eyes on him. The elf, far off to the side. The fires were fading now, their smoke trailing high into the starry sky. He always liked to think of that smoke as the last gasp, the soul finally leaving the body to begin its journey to the halls of the divines. It gave him some comfort, seeing it now. Finally, his eyes flicked away, dried out from the long vigil at the fire. They came to settle on Ieran, who did not do as he'd expected. He got the feeling she would simply look away... but she only lifted her head, her eyes glued on his. How long had she been watching him, he wondered? Why? He breathed a long sigh, finally shifting towards her. C'mon, lass. Ya stay out 'ere dressed like that, you'll freeze yer arse off. Let's see about raidin' ol' Orius' larder, eh? Bastard's gotta have some food 'round here someplace.