Thread: Retribution Sought with Royal Blood (Lady Bloody Ava & Primeval Exile)

Edwin's ice blue eyes fluttered for a moment after the tender kiss she gave him before she tugged at his hand with a come hither stare. With the thrill of excitement freshly coursing through his anatomy he could not refuse. Words escaped him at that second, all he could do was smile ear to ear and took the cue to take the lead whilst they bonded on the new frontier of intimacy in their relationship. He lead her through the trees and talked about all the mischief he got in to as a lone child growing up here. This place was his escape often were he would hide much to his fathers displeasure. When they reached the high stone wall barrier of the garden there was steps leading up to the cat walk which had a terrific view of the hub of the city. Music could be heard playing down below as well as the excited sounds of a crowd letting loose and having fun. Vines and moss that grew along the garden walls were routinely cleared on this steps but Edwin knew them to be occasionally slippery, so he took care ascending with his bride, grasping her hand. The view on the catwalk was pretty impressive. A stone seating area was set so nobility could enjoy meals or discussions while viewing the city but not outright visible themselves. The entire city was alive as a minstrel band was in full swing. Scores of the common folk were arm in arm dancing their cares away with onlookers clapping their hands to the beat. A taste of the celebration to come as the pending announcement of the wedding loomed closer. Edwin placed his hands upon the smooth stone railing and looked upon the merry folk, his visage showing his pleasure at seeing so much joy. These are your people now my sweet Bella. Together we will ensure their bellies remain full and their spirits lifted. After all...it is not the people who serve us, but rather we serve them. Striking contrast to his fathers style of ruling with an generous iron fist, only time will tell how effective it shall be. What do you think of the troupe playing? Ever curious to her thoughts, he looked back at to gauge her reaction, unable to keep a playful smile off his face. Gods above she was beautiful. The village of Hilltop was a small remote settlement on the edge of Himilrad, closer towards the territory owned by the Vaegir Principality. Rural living it was, with simple honest folk who harvested wheat to be sent back to the Castle as well as make a living on their own. The people that lived here loved their freedom and independence, with the governing forces more than a days ride away. Sven Lunginstad stepped out of his lovely cottage smoking his pipe of tobacco. Smoke rose from the chimney as his wife Hilda cooked their supper. Their daughter Gerti had grown up and married a hard working merchant in the city that wrote them regularly. Sven often enjoyed watching the sun set upon the valley during these cool nights as summer gave way to fall. Puffing thick clouds of smoke he decided to do a walk through of the barn noticing the door was open. He had apparently forgot to shut it so now was a good a time as any for a last check to make sure the cows were okay. It was still light out enough to see inside as the veteran farmer scratched his blonde stubble at the sight inside. The cows seemed nervous and at attention, but they weren't making hardly a sound. Whats wrong girls? Seen a fox or something? He leaned against a stall to check on the calves. Cute lil brown eyes looked up at him with that blank expression cows often gave. He smiled and reached to pet one, scratching it between the ears. A sharp pressuring pain dove into his chest which turned one hundred and eighty degrees as fast as it happened causing all air to leave his lungs. Something sharp dragged across his neck spilling a warm sensation over his chest and hands. In a state of shock and unable to draw breath Sven looked at his crimson hands wondering who's blood was that? His vision blurred when his feet gave out from under him as the ground rushed up to meet him swallowing him in darkness. The cows began to bay loudly out of fear. Hilda took a few steps out the front door of the cottage still wearing her apron with a concerned look on her face. Sven honey? Is everything okay with the cows? She yelled towards the ajar barn door which now was quickly becoming darkened from the setting sun. A whistling sound was her answer as an arrow thudded her in the chest dropping her like a puppet who's strings were suddenly cut. Emerging from the barn was a man wearing a wolfskin hood, his skin and face covered in tattoos and mud. He moved like a predator quick and purposefully slinging his bow over his shoulder and redrawing his knife approaching the cottage. His deer skin boots made not a sound as he stepped over Hilda's still warm corpse. The Walder stepped through the strange den sniffing around, clearing the domicile of any other prey. The rest of the cottage was empty save for the odd and useless belongings the the folk who come from stone huts collected. They were more like domesticated animals than true humans, a blight upon the land for they twisted the minds of animals they caged as prisoners and did not live in harmony with the land, stripping her of her resources far more than what was nessicary. The gods abandoned these people who now lived pointless lives sowing destruction wherever they landed. Putting them down was the forests will, and the faithful carried it out until death. He left the domicile open so nature may eventually retake it, as what the intent would be. The Walder hunter melded back into the dark wood as swiftly as he came, far from done for the night. There were other houses to pounce on. As he quietly moved through the darkness several other wolf hood wearing figures materialized out of no where, moving as one in a pack. Their blades already stained red as they descended upon the next row of houses.