tides of war

NF pack mtg! I feel like one is way overdue. Set for current date. One hit replies if you can please, even if it's just speech. If you cannot post just msg me and let me know what they might have said or whatever. I would just like as many members involved as possible.

@Serenity & @Callista would be excused for obv reasons.
Aarkon is PPed as arrived.
Adding tags to those who haven't responded yet. Will likely post Ragnar's response and close the thread this weekend. @Lóki @Oksana @Eirene @Primrose @Hank @Oryx

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It is late in the evening. The skies blotchy with clouds and bright light of orange and pink shining through as the sun readied itself for decention over the lands.

Ragnar sits within a clearing at the foothills of his home, where the pine trees surrounded and dany lions broke and floated through the area with each crisp breeze. The King in the North calls out for his people, his friends and awaits all their arrivals. A greeting is offered to all as they come and when the time was ready, he speaks.

“As many of you are aware, the threats of war with Dragonford, our neighbors on the islands south, have been clouding Northfall for quite some time. To be more specific, our war with its Alpha, Vendrussel. ” After all, the two packs were very small when this began. Not all might know the details of what they were fighting against.

“For those unaware of the beginnings of this fued: I had been made ware by Vendrussel's messenger that she wished to claim the islands south. Close, to be near another pack now bonded to one another, but in our new state we could not fight it. We agreed if they kept to their islands, there would be peace. Then they wished to claim the Brim on the mainland for their hunting ground. My young daughter was murdered for walking these lands.” He offered no more detail. It was enough and those he knew more personally already had known anyway.

“We have had a pawful of fights, but the Ford Leader has done well to evade us while also cozying up to our allies with talk of wanting this to end, with wanting peace. No offerings of peace have been made to Northfall, mind you.

With fear of what our war might cause for the other clans of the north, a bargain has been offered: That a court of the north, made by a representative from all the packs, be used for Vendrussel to stand trial for her actions. A decided punishment to be given, to prevent our march on the Ford and innocent lives be taken for their Leader's great faults. I do not know that this method will work, whether her due punishment be objected by her or if it will be objected by me.”

If the parents had it there way, she would be killed. Death was something the court seemed to keen to object, so only a punishment of equal measure would he understandable. Whether this would happen, he did not know.

“It is not my intention to force any of you into battle, though as Northfall is your home and these are your people, each one of you will help, whether it is to stay within the mountains and protect our children or lay in wait to retrieve those injured or dead.”

“I want to hear the voices of Northfall and know where we stand in all this as a pack. ”Together, they would stand and together they would survive. In the end, with war it doesn't matter who was right, only who was left.
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The howl of Ragnar’s summons was like a musical chorus within. The blood that pumped through his veins danced to the drums of war. And now that he was home, he felt unstoppable. For the son of Stormborn has returned.

The hulking beast of a man, soon found the location intended for the pack to gather. To his surprise, he was one of the first. Ragnar. He offered greeting to his Leader and Sire with a respectful bow of his head.

It was not long before the others arrived and he sought his Mother out immediately. He flanked her side and rubbed his muzzle against her cheek in silent greeting. Er þat tími? (Is it time?) He whispered, sky blue eyes seeking out Ragnar. Surely enough, he began to speak.

He listened intently, his eyes glimmered with glee. Finally a war. One true. He could not only prove himself to his parents and Northfall, he would honour the gods and ask for their blessing.

But he would not forget the reasonings behind this war, this was for his sister. Be it she only shared half, in that moment he did not care; she was of his blood. Vendarussel would pay. A life for a life and more.

As Ragnar finished his speech, Einar was quick to follow into the rallying cry. My sword is yours, Father. We shall fight in Yness’ honour and the gods will smile upon us! He boomed with pride and glee.

He was home.
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^^It was late in the evening, when Ragnar called to them. He wished for a meeting amongst the group. Chantico was the second to arrive, after a young boy - whom Chantico can only assume is the Returned Son that they had mentioned some time ago. The giant woman looks to him for a moment, regarding him silently as Ragnar speaks.

So the enemy has slain one of their own, and desiring for a peace - yet no offering of such had been made. Instead, the enemy spoke with their allies? Her ear flickered, tilting her head towards the idea of a court.

“ No amount of offerings can make up for the loss of a life. Try the court out. If it fails, or if Vendrussel’s ruling is deemed unacceptable; we kill her.”

^^
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^^Amata was within the territory, admiring the sunset of oranges and pinks when the call came. She’d been pondering over what would happen next, with her and Leviathan. Would he give her more gifts? Or would he grow more possessive, more protective? Time would tell.

Amata was the third to arrive. The yearling was quick to notice the older boy; Ragnar’s kid. He was just as good looking as his father. Oh dear. How would Leviathan feel, knowing Amata had wandering eyes? Tsk tsk. She moved to stand aside him as he called to fight for his sister’s honor. Ah, he’d get along with Leviathan then.

“What harm would a court do?” Amata mused, not one to care about bloodshed - but if she had been murdered, she wouldn’t really want her killer to join her in the afterlife.

^^
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^^

She didn't appreciate the call. Freya's sides were bigger now, swollen with life that had her so tired she hadn't opted to do much more than sleep in the past few days. She knew it was close, so very close that she felt almost impatient to get her body back. She didn't particularly care of this wolf she had never met who had been murdered, apparently, because she understood that for mortals, for most anyway, life rarely went the nice way. Though perhaps her uncaring thoughts were because she was overly tired, ready to burst and here she was called for a meeting.

Freya's hormones had been horrifically all over the place and tonight was the same, her freckled features set with the look of a woman ready to burst and tired. She hated it; she wasn't her ordinary beautiful self with the way her bones were weary and tired. Still beautiful, of course, but a different kind. The Goddess hauled herself in a horridly slow waddle from her nest, not happy to be pulled from her comfort.

She came and she sat, taking her time to get comfortable though comfort did not come. Freya exhaled with annoyance as she shifted, flicking her multi-coloured gaze to the king himself. The woman had no idea if children could be sired from more than one father in these lands but it had been Ragnar who had laid with her first and though the order of her frolicks probably mattered very little, she was inclined to be comfortable with Ragnar being the father, if it were something he so wished to claim.

Others circled, sat and listened as Ragnar began his speech. Freya had lived a multitude of lives, each of them different in nearly ever way barring perhaps the type of body she walked in and this was not her first time sitting as if a council had come to decide together. A lost son of Ragnar had arrived, laying his sword down for war if that's what his father desired. A yellow eyed woman spoke and Freya hummed lowly, wondering how well she had thought out the latter of her sentence.

"A court is smart," Freya commented after the girl, Amata, her voice tired. "I am in no state for battle though you know, Ragnar, I am no stranger to it," he had found her first, after all, fresh blood splattered amongst her frame like her very own freckles, straight from a battle all her own. "We are stronger as a Pack, it is the way of the wolf," even when humans battled, they were stronger together than apart. "Yet you must think if ultimately, you wish for war to be constant. If you wish to go against the majority of the North, you must accept that it means likely more enemies than one."

She looked to him, cocking her head as she appraised him where he stood. "A court bides you time, Ragnar. It bides you time to learn, to gather information, favours, skills in places one might not have thought necessary." This court would not be as lavish as the ones she had sat on, when gold was weaved within her blonde, wavy locks. "You and Sindri have every right to feel the fury that course through your veins for the way your girl was taken from you, do not doubt that," would she feel that way for any children that were to be born of her? Freya knew that likely if they were girls and had any possibility of growing to prettier than her than she would see to it herself that they were eliminated.

The rest, though, she wondered if she would favour.

"I have seen the way fury has driven the masses, I implore you to favour retribution in a way that is advantageous," Freya grimaced as her hips ached and her sides flickered with impending pain, a hint of what was surely to come. It was perhaps selfish of her, the way she also did not desire war to be continuous in the months to come as her own children would be born. When they were older, able to be taught and protect themselves then surely she'd not care who they battled with -- though a warrior, she was a strategist, too. Sometimes it was smarter to be the snake than the bear.

"I vote for Court, my King," she lifted her chin despite her tiredness and the flickers of pain, never one to cower from speaking her opinion. She cared nothing for whether Vendrussel would live or die, she only favoured what would be advantageous for them, for her. ^^

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The man heard the call and quickly answered, approaching with narrow eyes as he look at all the wolves that gathered. He hated large gatherings, but his distaste turned to curiosity as the leader started talking. Eyes would flicker to Amata, narrowing slightly as he noticed her get closer to Ragnar. He wanted to say something about that, but this wasn't the time or place. 

His blood started to boil and he moved to stand up, letting out a soft growl as he spoke, eyes on the king. "What she did is and will never be forgivable. Regardless of the outcome of the court, the only thing that will even come close to redemption would be her life. Plus, from what I've seen of her so far, she doesn't seem like the one to give up her life like that. She'll fight it."

He would pause for a moment to glance at Amata before looking back at Ragnar and continuing. "If we do the court, when it ends up not working, I will help fight too. But, won't calling for court give them ample time to regroup and raise their defenses?" He would flick his tail slightly as he sat back down, his face hard as he waited.

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He was there, above the great king. His beady eyes were alight with savage joy. Amused at all this that was happening and happy at the idea of bloodshed. Wolf or no, that meant he feasted! He let out several excited caws to punctuate the words of some of the wolves. You know. For dramatic effect.
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 Valmúa attended, and she listened. But with such politics, she was a poor listener. She waited only until others had finished talking before saying anything to Ragnar. She had sauntered up quite close to him, at this point, though still several metres away.
 “You know I, and most of us, would fight. Fighting blindly against this court is stupid. If there are enough to trigger a whole court to prevent this, that also means any win we make now, we will later lose. Do you not you see?” Valmúa almost felt angry toward Ragnar, but it was more toward the happenstance than the person she saw as her friend and leader.
 “We are doomed if you press now.” She spat, glaring.

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Hank answered Ragnar's call with his presence like the rest. He sat and listened, but as per usual, he had little to say. His offer at the border had been legitimate: if Ragnar really wanted this Vendrussel lady dead so badly, all he had to do was ask. But as politics typically went, things were a lot more complicated than that. Doing so would have its consequences, as Freya and a red woman pointed out. Hank was still too new to this world and its going-ons to have a meaningful opinion on it (as if his opinion would ever be anything outside of "we can take 'em, do it anyway.")

Having little to do but train had him clawing at the walls of this place. He wanted nothing more than to be assigned some kind of mission. Assassinating a leader was right up his alley, but... things were different here. For one, Hank was still learning the limits of this new body, and his capacity for using any manner of tools was incredibly limited, on top of that. For two, this world was a lot more stable in every sense of the word.

Tame. The word he'd use to describe this world was 'tame'. He wouldn't be able to get away with the same kind of nonsense as before, especially without dependable people to back up his antics. But a life full of strife and chaos was all he knew. If not that, then what would he do with himself?

He didn't sign up for an existential crisis today. Fuck it, just let him at the kid killer and let that be it.

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Ragnar was most grateful for the arrival of his people, including Sindri who settled at his side and his son there next to her. Even Freya made her way, more annoyed and uncomfortable as she were, she still presented herself with the posibility of the newest generation of Stormborn inside of her. He longed for her at his side, yet still did not believe an unshakable love could be made between them. And there came his eye in the sky to perch above him and cry out for the feast he so willed.

Ragnar was still most grateful, for as well as the pack's ability to speak freely their thoughts on this without fear or any reprimand. Freya spoke clearly, calmy and clearly. He wondered if she would make for a good representation for Northfall where Ragnar could not currently stand, given his placement in this mes. Most seemed to show a willingness to fight (or help in another manner) should war still end up being their only option for justification, should the court hearing fail. Some seemed optimistic that this would work, so that justice would be served without blood shed for any of them or their allies. Some seemed as though they did not believe it to be something that would work.

What Ragnar had not expected was the sudden agression of Valmua. She stepped forward, spatting at him disrespectful so, to which a silent snarl plastered itself on Sindri's face. Ragnar did not understand where such a sudden rage came from, but could think perhaps it came from what had happened with her and Kuhn before. She was afraid and with fear came anger.

Valmua's suggestion that should Northfall decide to fight, his allies would not only refuse to help them, but turn against them, made him stiffen. Would @Olive and @Valeska fight on Vendrussel's side should Northfall sound the war horns? Or was he foolish to think so poorly of those he considered friend? It was hard to say, given one supposed friend was spatting at his feet now. Northfall's former ally had been just as fickle. The only ones that had held true to their word thus far were The Saints and they seemed to be long gone now.

Ragnar's icy eyes narrowed upon Valmua now in the same glare she had offered him. When he spoke, it was not entirely to her, but the whole of the pack.

“I am most grateful for all of your opinions on this manner and hope to do my best to appease you all as your King in these trialing times.”

FIN.
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Prowling through the tree line, bright emerald eyes blazed through shadows, blending with the dark obsidian of his pelt. He had heard the call and as a good, loyal member of Northfall should, Loki attended. All be it from the back. Watching in silence.

Though one thing caught him in particular-Freya, the woman who he had lain with, now had a swollen stomach. His eyes squinted as dread crawled along his nape, twisting in his stomach. What were the chances that they would be his? His lips curled up in a silent sneer.

What were the chances…

As Ragnar concluded the meeting, it felt like a heavy weight had been lifted from his chest. He took that moment to slink back to once he came.

He would leave Freya for today, for now…

-Exit.-
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