Eva 'Skuld' Stark
SWRP Writer
- Joined
- Jan 10, 2019
- Messages
- 388
- Reaction score
- 172
It had been a long time since she had last attended a gathering upon the Klaenar of old, now more simply figureheads of a stalemate of peace than of any true power. And yet every Deucalian answered their call; the Hall which housed their counsels was one of the few in Ando Prime where Jarls and Warlords bent a knee to a higher power.
Any trace of singular leadership had vanished since the beginning of the Age of Twilight for those who knew of Deucalian history, a history Skuld was more than intimate with.
Skuld, now Eva Stark, of Clan Stark. There was no real reason why a Jarl would be summoned by the powers that rested as the only tenuous stand of reason within a cold war. She knew the implications; a branch of Clan Thorite, with ambitions to lead her people out of this dark age, but only those intimate to her knew these ambitions.
Which meant a member within her kin, or of her trusted companions, was one not to be trusted any more. And if this summoning meant what she thought it meant... it meant there was one that she could not trust her back to. And the moment she found out who, she would not hesitate to toss them to the mercy of the Andar.
The galleon had landed with minimal difficulty; already there seemed a crowd around the massive doors, silent and still. Thorite. Alemanii. Baldr. Friscii. Many other, smaller clans, their colors bright against the purity of the snow. She watched them all calmly from within a viewport, standing tall. Any eyes that met hers were also met unflinchingly, both Jarl and Warlord alike the moment she would descend. But until then... they would simply face the massive ship that landed. Perhaps some of her allies would be in their midst, but it seemed this mass summoning would not be without its' difficulties... or its' opportunities.
As they landed, Skuld strode ahead, head high, posture tall. Someone walked beside her; one she knew without doubt she could trust her back to. She tilted her head to him, and gave him a smirk of knowing, icy eyes gleaming.
No words needed to be said. That Saxon already knew what she would say anyways; that was still a novelty. She took a deep breath, and squared her shoulders before preparing to face the bitter cold... and the difficulty ahead.
Hopefully her other companion would appear... and be the trump card to turn the tides in her favor. By this point, only the Gods knew what would happen next.
@Nefieslab @Darasuum
Any trace of singular leadership had vanished since the beginning of the Age of Twilight for those who knew of Deucalian history, a history Skuld was more than intimate with.
Skuld, now Eva Stark, of Clan Stark. There was no real reason why a Jarl would be summoned by the powers that rested as the only tenuous stand of reason within a cold war. She knew the implications; a branch of Clan Thorite, with ambitions to lead her people out of this dark age, but only those intimate to her knew these ambitions.
Which meant a member within her kin, or of her trusted companions, was one not to be trusted any more. And if this summoning meant what she thought it meant... it meant there was one that she could not trust her back to. And the moment she found out who, she would not hesitate to toss them to the mercy of the Andar.
The galleon had landed with minimal difficulty; already there seemed a crowd around the massive doors, silent and still. Thorite. Alemanii. Baldr. Friscii. Many other, smaller clans, their colors bright against the purity of the snow. She watched them all calmly from within a viewport, standing tall. Any eyes that met hers were also met unflinchingly, both Jarl and Warlord alike the moment she would descend. But until then... they would simply face the massive ship that landed. Perhaps some of her allies would be in their midst, but it seemed this mass summoning would not be without its' difficulties... or its' opportunities.
As they landed, Skuld strode ahead, head high, posture tall. Someone walked beside her; one she knew without doubt she could trust her back to. She tilted her head to him, and gave him a smirk of knowing, icy eyes gleaming.
No words needed to be said. That Saxon already knew what she would say anyways; that was still a novelty. She took a deep breath, and squared her shoulders before preparing to face the bitter cold... and the difficulty ahead.
Hopefully her other companion would appear... and be the trump card to turn the tides in her favor. By this point, only the Gods knew what would happen next.
@Nefieslab @Darasuum