Thread: Learning from a master (Cheshire x Tema)

Epic post inc. As Vallios lay serenely in the hot water he felt himself yearn for his homeland. The wind outside reminding him of the howling gusts that swept across the Frozen Steppes, the frost lingering on the window making him think of the chilled tundras and frigid plains that stretched for miles upon miles, slowly gaining a permanent covering of snow the more north one went. He thought of the glories of the hunt, and of the Summer solstice banquet...Yet again Vallios' thoughts slipped back seven years, to that fateful night that had lead to all of this. With closed eyes Vallios allowed the scenes to replay, able to recall every detail with vivid clarity. NO! STOP! The screech pulled Vallios away from the nightly ritual of feeding his faithful war-bear Molnar. The massive ursine tilted it's head slightly, looking towards the sound of the disturbance. Vallios set the raw cut of ox down in front of the animal and moved swiftly but silently towards the tent that he was staying in during the Tribal Gathering. Once every 3rd winter the assembled sects of the northern tribes gathered together for trading, territorial negotiations, and gladitorial matches for honor and standing. In one easy, practiced movement Vallios retrieved the triple bladed katars that hung from his hips and slipped them onto his wrists. s the entry-flap of the tent was peeled back he saw a sight that made his blood boil. One of the many sons of the Avana nobility was holding down somebody very near to Vallios' heart, pressing her face against the thick fur bedding as he ripped away her clothing. The man was tribal loyalty, apparently deciding to claim the First Rite that has standing awarded him. It was a practice that Vallios' own tribe, the Bere-Lohn had abolished generations ago...But other sects still practiced. Poor Ivarra fought as hard as she could, though her own slender frame was no match for that of the warrior who was restraining her. Wordlessly Vallios stepped forward to dole out due retribution. Two simultaneous movements, under handed thrusts straight into the other man's back. A low grunt of effort escaped Vallios' lips as he impaled the assailant and lifted him by the blades, holding his feet high off the ground. Her first is reserved for my people's Master Smith, and the man that she has pledged herself to you filthy curr. Your actions borderline war upon our entire clan. Die, coward. Ruthlessly Vallios slammed the man down in a vicious arc, sending him head-first onto the floor of the tent. With a sickening sound his neck snapped, head lolling aimlessly about on his dying shoulders. Vallios pulled his hands from the katars and went to comfort Ivarra. In the mean time, 3 Tribal Peacekeepers came filing into the tent. A look of shock overtook each man's face as they surveyed the scene. What happened? One of the peacekeepers asked, reaching for his notched axe. An attempt to soil Ivarra's honor and ravage her soul. Justice has been served in a way the goddess would approve. Vallios growled. He is nobility! Her first is rightfully his should he so choose! The second one shouted, eyes suddenly burning with rage. The Bere-Lohn abolished such rights generations ago. One of our women is exempt. Vallios roared back, getting to his feet, obviously ready to defend himself with his bare hands. You know that is not true. I give you two options come peacefully or be slain where you stand. The third whispered. nd so Vallios stepped forward wordlessly. Ivarra whimpered and shook her head, clutching at his leg. With a forceful shove Vallios pushed her away, speaking to her as he strode forward. All the while the intensity of his gaze was focused upon the Peacekeepers. I acted with full knowledge of the consequences. My last request is that Ivarra be spared any further threats to her chastity. I accept any punishment, even death for my actions. The second guard, still inflamed by the death of one of his own rushed forward and brought the heavy surface of his shield hard against Vallios' head. The impact was nearly strong enough to knock Vallios unconscious even before his knees could buckle. However, Vallios remained awake as the peacekeepers stepped forward, grabbing Vallios by his ankles and dragging him from the tent. How long he'd remained unconscious once he'd let go, Vallios could not know. But the sun was shining high in the sky, beating down upon his pale skin. He heard voices before he saw anything, shouts and jeers from a massive crowd. Clumsily Vallios got to his feet, looking around in a daze. He was naked save a pair of short fur breeches, and his katar lay at his feet. When he looked up he saw that he was in the center of what was known as The Ring of Struggle, with Chieftain Grimgaze standing in the center, and the champion of the Avana himself beside Grimgaze. As the Chieftain began to speak the crowd went silent. You have committed the most foul of all crimes. Nameless, kinless you stand before this assembly for judgement. The Avana council have chosen for you to meet your death in combat. Should you survive this, you shall be worse than dead. You shall forever be banished, from even the goddess' own arms. The fight itself was still a blur Vallios...Only coming into focus as Vallios stood above the corpse of his opponent, the blood still warm on his hands. As rational thought came to Vallios he stepped forward and then knelt down, closingfate. his eyes and silently waiting for what was to come. He'd survived...The fates had chosen the greater of 2 evils for his conviction. There was no need for Vallios to watch what was happening. The slow footsteps and even clinking of bone beads told him that he'd be marked by his tribe's own shaman. Vallios did not flinch as he felt the razor-sharp tip of a ceremonial dagger cut into his face, tearing 3 even cuts from eyebrow to jaw. No sound escaped his lips as he felt the blackening tincture rubbed into the fresh wounds...Even though the dye burned hotter than hell itself. However, his eyes would not open. The tincture would be sweat away over a period of 72 hours...Until then, sight was but a memory. Shaking as he stood, Vallios made no sound as he waited for the final pronouncement. The crowd was dead silent, unsure of whether to be satisfied or infuriated by the lack of remorse expressed by the guilty. As you all know, the dead rest in the Goddess' arms for 3 days before they are sent. Ceremonial words, a warning to any not satisfied by the outcome of the trial, and a warning to Vallios. The blinded and shamed man was now a specter to his people. His name would become a curse that, if uttered was punishable by removal of the tongue. It was truly as if he'd never been concieved. And so Vallios, on hands on knees crawled across the cracked, frozen earth. Where he went, only his fingers and ears could guide. And then, he heard a familiar low growl and felt a large head butt into his side. Vallios reached up and curled his arms around Molnar's thick neck, slowly standing and climbing onto the bear's back. Thank you friend...Take us far, far from here... He whispered, leaning down to get a better hold around the beast's shoulders. Responding to the distribution of Vallios' weight and the placement of his feet, the great bear set off towards the horizon. And, in stunned silence Ivarra watched as her closest childhood friend retreated into the distance, now nothing more than a memory only she would keep. With a low sigh Vallios reached up and ran his hand over the black mark on his face, feeling the ridges of those triplet scars. For a moment he thought of Molnar, allowing a moment of silence to pass in memory of the faithful companion who'd fought beside, and died beside Vallios.