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Sleep well, and dream of fat prey that runs slow…
RP Wanted The Portal 
Valkyrie the Hopebringer
Currently championing: Caevoc
#1

“Sov godt, og drøm om fettbytt som går sakte,” was the wry phrase that continued to resonate through her mind, even now, nearly fifteen days later (as the crow flies), was curling an existence too into her bright, bold expression as an everlasting smirk. “Sleep well, and dream of fat prey that runs slow…”

They were the words imparted by the High-Maiden to the competing Sisters right as the golden ribbon marking the start-line was sliced in two.

Valkyrie had never even seen a man before. She was riding the thrilling high of excitement still, of eagerness and determination to succeed; to win! The Daughter envisioned him to be, naturally, an aesthetically repulsive, slothful, beast who’s physical strength far outweighed his intelligence; he was of a dull, unappealing hue probably, like brown, or muddy black, with ravenous and beady, callous, cunning eyes up front. She’d been taught to detest him, to seek his eradication above all else - for justice - though also, to approach him like she should a serpent, with heed and suspicion, for he was a neanderthal-like savage who sought no better victory than control over womankind.

“Men have no place in Loorien…” She confirmed the thought in soft, yet resolute tone, feeding hungrily on the hot surging adrenaline in her veins.

She just needed to find one.

The weather had taken a turn for the worst during the early hours - it was cool, refreshing. Rain gushed down from a blackened sky and somewhere behind her, the heavens mumbled gently. The most ominous looking clouds, pregnant and brooding, had gathered en mass against the bright blue day, and the star-spangled night which had been before it; a strange wind had gathered speed - quite unsure, however, about the direction it felt it must drive. It was unlike any storm she had before encountered and it only fuelled her exhilaration for the adventure unfolding.

Still, there was always one thing missing along the way.

Life…

She traversed both field and forest, hill and valley, yet there was no trace of civilisation in the tattered, feral wilderness beyond Sunnmøre; neither equines like she, nor birds, skinks or even flies were nestled about the lush contours. It was disconcerting, to say the least, but without the curse of doubt to douse her flame,  and hamper her stride, Valkyrie continued on nonetheless deterred. Returning without him wasn’t even a consideration.

Without the sun or moon to guide her, the pale young horse soon lost track of time and direction. The darkened hours seemed increasingly endless and though her mind rang loudly on to the tune of her quest, steady limbs began to waver with fatigue. It was time to rest. Glancing between vegetation through the murky shadow of the storm, water beading on tilted lashes and flooding any bold attempt to behold her surroundings in full, Valkyrie paused her stride and began (with use of her telekinetic ability), to clear a site beneath the weighted boughs of a small, elevated grove. The spear which accompanied her, that carried also by each other member of the Sisterhood, came to rest on the ground nearby. Slowly she slid the sticks and slimy stones most visible from the earthy, wet bed, into the shape of a rough, snug ring. Before long the tired Daughter had collapsed within the makeshift nest and fallen into deep slumber.

It was unusually dark outside.

The wild wind howled loudly and whistled between jagged granite tors outside the cavern, and the warm, constant glow of the lanterns above swayed gently, soothingly, back and forth, back and forth… Against her on two sides, the warm bodies of Sisters, of Mist and Kára, pressed, breathing softly and rhythmically as they dreamt beneath the fog of deep sleep. Valkyrie could not surrender herself to the same so easily though, this night; she lay restlessly, disturbed by the whisper of childish want through her mind, and the unsatisfied flare of arousal through her core.

It seemed Sigrún suffered the same.

A shadow slipped by the room’s carved doorway, rousing the Daughter’s attention; downy jawline lifted from the nest of soft white feather and fur. Lashes fluttered, vainly attempting to mask the rise of delight through her expression - the relief and burning, ignited desire simmering within - the same look which glazed the other’s alluring gaze so unabashedly.

“Come…”


That breath, the hot, sensual caress as the Shieldmaidens’ lips ghosting across her quivering skin, stirred forth a familiar, irresistible ravenousness in her belly. A flustered flutter of nostrils startled the tension in the silence, and her Sister recoiled suddenly; Valkyrie’s ears followed swiftly above the shift of velvety, pink lips into the lonely void between them and ivory lids split to reveal the surprise pooling in those icy-blue eyes. Where, however, the beloved woman had stood, a wisp of smoky air waited, stagnant, and a bemused snort erupted from her lungs - it was merely mist, after all. But the thick billow of air did not recoil as intended, it lifted peculiarly, sliding around the invisible puff of disdain sent forth, like a prowling snake. Joints clicked in protest as she gathered limbs beneath her rapidly, rocking to the sky in a heartbeat - with a thundering pulse and heating core.

What in the name of the Shield?

The rain had stopped, though her coat was still soaked through. The cloud cover had lifted enough to grant light to see a fairer distance and it became apparent that the mist, was in fact all around; it had crept forward like the hand of death, silent and unexpected. With her mind, Valkyrie reached hurriedly for the spear where it lay - the strange fog licked by it, teasing perhaps, testing her resolve. The weapon swung clear, landing between the snarl of parted teeth. It was surreal, paranormal and she wasn't sure what to do. “State your business!” the Daughter demanded, pushing the sensible quiver of uncertainty from her young voice, and thrusting threateningly a hoof into the earth now shrouded in gloom. There was too, a queerer taste to the air than had been - metallic maybe? Certainly not the earthy perfume of over-watered soil…

The mist remained silent, undeterred. It loomed forbiddingly.

Hocks bent awkwardly, as she endeavoured in the next instance to reverse, but as her eyes peered around to view the path in that direction, Valkyrie discovered to her shock, that the cloud had gathered there yet thicker even still - she baulked forward in fright, appropriately unsettled by the situation unfolding. The mist split somewhat then, revealing a path that its prisoner dared not resist engaging, and neat, clean hooves found themselves sunk beneath a new, foul-smelling substrate - a marsh. It seemed not to be any ordinary marsh. Where perhaps a pond or lake should have shimmered in the twilight, a menacing whirlpool of black smoke appeared; yet try as she might to fight the herding smog, to escape, the Daughter found herself ever nearer to it - and sinking.

It was pulling her in!

No matter what amount of training had bid her heart fearless, Valkyrie was now at the mercy of ignorance and fear swelled within her like a rising ocean tide. “NO!” She shouted, scrabbling backwards through the devouring soup at her heels, “OH NO!” But her effort, the thrashing and wielding of weaponry was futile against the magic around her, and within only seconds she was plunging - sprinting beyond all will - hurtling, downwards as though through the ebb of time itself.

Should she have been anything less than a Shieldmaiden (never mind in the making), Valkyrie might have screamed until the very blood coursing through her heart ran as cold as the Sunnmørian mountains she loved missed so terribly. Instead, the brave Daughter fastened her jaws together in such furious defiance that the blunt molars within began to grind sickeningly together, and she ventured a brazen glance downwards into the depths of the silent, spiralling darkness ahead. The air grew stranger, hardly stale, though not anything like the crisp fresh wind which had worried the long, wild, ivory tendrils of her mane barely seconds before - it seemed to hum through her, to resonate like the flurry of magic as it stirred to life through her veins; it was stagnant but seemed, all the same, to suck her plunging form ever downwards, to rake at and fondle the sweating contours of her skin.

The feeling was terrifying; it was thrilling!

Soon though, after what felt to the Daughter like a lifetime, tortured by suspense and caught in the limbo of unknowing, a new canvas of smoky light emerged like a pool beneath her and she was thrust right into it by the strange, sizzling atmosphere. Hooves collided against the cushion of grassy loam, a surprise indeed, and for a moment her sight was blinded by the dazzling addition of supernatural neon hues. Though her ravaged body trembled with weariness and each burning knee begged for respite - willing the weight above to fall to the ground - Valkyrie staggered to a standstill and hung in place with a look of baited apprehension plastered across her pasty, pink-accented face.



Offensive Magic
Telekinesis: Able to move inanimate objects with her mind.

Normal Items
Helm: Detailed with gold, silver and bronze, and two aquamarine gemstones; it sits across her brow, with ornate wings that fan backwards against her own.

Spear: A detailed titanium spear.

(thank you to whoever reads it all x.x if you need any clarification skim through her history)



Messages In This Thread
Sleep well, and dream of fat prey that runs slow… - by Valkyrie - 02-23-2018, 08:56 PM