Council These Words

[Eva 'Skuld' Stark]

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

​

 

[Darth Valravus]

___________________

Other Clans, names that had mostly been just referenced in stories her own Clan had repeated. Sometimes they had felt like fantastical dynasties in legendary stories. But now she knew better. They were all just men and women, mortal, no better than her or anyone else.

Today she wore one of her darker pelt cloaks. It hung around her shoulders, hiding her broad shoulders somewhat. It did not cover the part that had her large sheathed sword sticking out. Her stare looked forward as she moved down from her own vessel.

She was wearing her normal garb and had her practical items still on her. All in all she looked like any Deucalian still, though perhaps a bit of an abnormally strong female Deucalian, but nothing too far out of the ordinary that would make people believe she was anything more than that. Behind her marched five individuals. The Frigarock Five as they had been named. They were Darth Valravus's elite guard and members of her own clan, Clan Tuistco.

She had been the last surviving member of her clan until recently. Now she was here to support a different Clan. Technically she was the Jarl of Clan Tuistco though that was simply because she had been the last one alive. If she brought it up when her authority was questioned the leaders of the other Clans would no doubt argue her title as Jarl was inavlid. In truth, she would not blame them for that line of reasoning. But she would show them if need be why she deserved to be respected and why they should fear her.

For now though Darth Valravus was not here to show the her own capability. This was about Skuld Stark and some allegations that might be had. The Deucalian Council would find their line of questioning to the answers surely. But the truth was that Skuld was the leader of Clan Stark and even the Deucalians themselves. She was just here to make sure they learned that well enough.

Darth Valravus would meet the woman that she looked similar to. Beside her was Tagal Saxon, the man she had recently met but prior had still heard a fair bit about. Now that they had been in the fires of war together it felt good to have a valued companion around. She knew the married couple would get through whatever inconvenience this Council meeting was. She had confidence in them enough to wonder if she would actually have to do anything on their behalf at this event. A small head poked out of the cloak to look up at both Tagal and Skuld. It trilled its reptilian sound of greeting before darting back inside where it was warmer.

@Nefieslab @vamp @KinkyPrawn

 

[Tagal Saxon]

It seemed that it was to be Tagal's destiny to stand by the side and assist as women of fate accepted the mantle of their responsibilities and advanced onwards. He had done it with Blackwell, he had done it (to a lesser extent) with the Sith now known as Valravus and he had definitely done it with Skuld Stark, now known as Eva Stark once again.

Some might have felt slighted by what limited role destiny had assigned to him but he was not one of them. Tagal knew what his ambitions were and they amounted to nothing to grand. He wanted to have his space station secure, defended and churning out weapons and armour across the Galaxy.

He wanted his second shot at a family to be less of a total loss.

Which meant he was more than happy with how this was all unfolding. Especially since he was more than happy to see his wife advancing to where she belonged. He noted the appearance of the Sith Lord with a nod and tried to remember the rule he had set for himself.

Not matter how much of an arse they were, it was no his place to kill anyone here; it was his wife's.

@Killa Ree @Darasuum

 

[Eva 'Skuld' Stark]

-THEME-​

Becoming Jarl came with a price that hadn't been as heavy as others seemed to think it was.
Coming here, she had had her suspicions, but seeing the Warlords and Jarls in attendance in all their colors confirmed the gravity of the situation. Unlike before, when approaching Hall Stark for the first time as a woman back from the honor-dead, Skuld felt no fear, no anxiety. She had never been more clear; perhaps Tagal's nickname had finally become truth, because every thought was crystalline and clear, every breath even and without pause.

But for one instant, beyond the great Hall, beyond the city that was once the heartbeat of Deucalia's tentative peace, Eva had a vision. One of a man walking with a field of crows... and she paused momentarily, chin tilted.


The man paused, and turned his face to hers. One ice blue eye met hers across the distant plains... and then in a sudden flurry of snow, the vision was gone, and she moved forward once more. She glanced slightly to her right, and gave the briefest nod to Lord Valravus and her accompanying party. The appearance of the infantile Arkanian dragon brought the flicker of a smile to her lips, before it too vanished. So it seemed her lookalike's Clan had grown... in many ways, Skuld knew this was one of many reasons why their people had to change. Their petty warmongering was over.

A new Wolf came to lead the pack. This was why she was here. But at the end of the day, there was one reason she could walk here without shame staining her name, without anger burning her blood or regret to make eyes avert. Nei. She would meet every eye that caught hers, and she did with a stare that could chill the blood of most. It was the look that spoke of years living without the ties that held most of her former kin particularly back.

The massive doors swung open with the shrieking wind. The bitter cold barely registered. Instead, her eyes focused on the stone table ahead, and the Öldungar faces that turned as one. Truth be told, council was the closest to Basic terms as she could get to. It was the stopgap of a show of diplomacy, the only tenuous grasp of peace from years' civil war that left holes in several dynasties... and not a single one of them young enough to be her father's generation. Three men and one woman. But one in particular held her interest, and their eyes met squarely with a burst of recognition that seemed to startle the man only briefly, before the expression smoothed to nothingness. If it had been anyone else, Skuld would have not seen such a miniscule moment of surprise.

But she knew him well. It was he who taught her in his hall, he whose second daughter was her dearest companion and adopted sister. It was he that spared her from her death from the Blood-Price... and it was he who neglected to show when she rose to Jarl within her clan.

Atop his forehead was a tattoo, representative of one that had succeeded in a significant trial of some sort in memorable fashion; perhaps signifying he once accomplished something remarkable at a young age, many decades ago. He had long gray hair, almost silver in appearance, tied up, and a beard that grew long, but was cleaned and formal, worn as a testament of his age and wisdom. By comparison to the others, he appeared the most simple and least assuming. So it has ever been with those of his clan; Urdur, of Clan Thorite.

Icy eyes met those equally cold, but it was his eyes that slid away first. She scowled and stepped further into the deep hall, back tall and brows settled into a mask of distant coolness. Many men and women that stood about, laughing or talking amongst themselves suddenly went quiet; the only sound in the hall was the fire that burned always within the pit, flanked by Odinn and Svartur, bronze-colored figures that stooped over the flames as though to hoard the fire to themselves... or shield their people. Perhaps her brother at arms (@Korvo ) was amongst them, but she was not to scan the crowd in search of him. She passed the two statues, not even sparing them a glance.

Thus was the way of the Andar, but their ways no longer guided her footsteps. It was her own ambition... and the knowledge of what could happen at the cost of that knowledge.

Durinn, of Clan Friscii. Nerthus, Elder of Clan Baldr. Vaelaria, Eldress of Clan Alemanii. The pride of their years were worn well. Guards of each respective great House fanned out behind them, armed with medium rifles and Alvladur armor in each color of their clan. But unlike their guard, Skuld did not come wearing a helm. If she faced judgement, she faced it with her eyes unclouded and her enemies before her.

She stood before them calmly. But instead of taking a knee, she bowed slightly, eyes meeting those of each Elder head-on. Each met her gaze unflinchingly now, some more remote than others. Vaelaria she knew well; her former mother-in-law met her eyes with an equal levity in them.

For a few beats, silence reigned in the hall as Skuld and her retinue stood before the council. The other two newcomers, Darth Valravus and the Mandalorians, inspired bursts of Deucalic amongst the ranks, but little else was spoken. Outside the stone-like walls and durasteel shell, the fierce winds of a beginning gale could be heard, distantly keening outside like the shrill screams of a woman.

And then, Nerthus spoke, his voice carrying through the hall despite the reediness of years in his throat.
​

@Nefieslab @Darasuum

 

[The Storyteller]

"ᚲᛟᚾᚷᚱᚨᛏᚢᛚᚨᛏᛁᛟᚾᛋ ᛟᚾ ᚤᛟᚢᚱ ᚱᛖᚲᛖᚾᛏ ᚱᛁᛋᛖ ᛏᛟ ᛃᚨᚱᛚ, ᛖᚡᚨ ᛋᛏᚨᚱᚴ." Despite the poorer quality of his voice, the man had not changed much since the last time he had sat in this very seat; in fact, the very seat where they were attacked when two very different ambassadors stood before them, with even more differing attitude. This was nearly seven years ago, but yet if one looked closely enough, they could still see the damage that had previously been done by slaver ships; scorch marks upon the upper limits of the chilly hall, and outside, where some buildings still had yet to be rebuilt, its' residents having abandoned them for their own clans once more.

He sat along with Elder Thorite, bound as the House of Radegast to the left. Vaeleria, along with Durinn, formed the right as House of Odin. There was no lie for the bitter tentative peace between these two great Houses; as Clan Stark, Eva perhaps would have been oath-bound to House Radegast, yet honor-bound by her first husband to the House Odin. But in this moment, she did not feel bound to either one; they were old fools stained in each other's blood, blood that slaked a thirsty cold ground for more years than most could want to count. If this was peace, she sought war. And they both knew it. All those that stood within this hall knew the Jarl of Clan Stark was not one to sit idly by and let things dwindle; and if rumors were true, she represented the very thing that both houses strained to avoid for generations.

Anarchy. Change. A shift that would shatter years of proud history and noble war. And the group that stood before this council also represented something else, something far more grave: the face of the next generation to come. It was no secret that Eva Stark was wed to a Mandalorian, and though the old stigma of hatred towards the fellow warrior culture had stemmed somewhat, it still ran deep for several Houses, but none more than the Clans Alemanii and Thorite. These new generations held no respect for the laws that once governed their society with an iron fist; it was also no secret that the Jarl before them held no value to bloodline, but instead seemed to gather her House from those individuals that were strong, and most knew nothing of Deucalian culture. Nor seemed content to learn.

And the Sith Lord within her ranks was of a Clan that had been reported to have died years ago. If reports were correct, the woman was a vain fool to think that most of their culture would follow along with those that were sensitive to the Force. Regardless of their siblings on the other side, they consorted with witches and people who did not regard their warriors' lives with honor. Such a society was only held in equal distaste with both the Alliance and the Mandalorians. Yet Nerthus sat, his deep blue eyes settled on her, before flicking back to Eva.

Next, it was Vaelaria's turn to speak, fingers lacing before her as she leaned forwards over the stone table. "ᛒᚢᛏ ᚤᛟᚢ ᚨᚱᛖ ᚾᛟᛏ ᚺᛖᚱᛖ ᛟᚾ ᛈᛚᛖᚨᛋᚨᚾᛏᚱᚤ. ᛃᚨᚱᛚ ᛋᛏᚨᚱᚴ, ᚹᛖ ᚺᚨᚡᛖ ᚺᛖᚨᚱᛞ ᚱᛖᛈᛟᚱᛏᛋ ᛏᚺᚨᛏ ᚤᛟᚢ ᚺᚨᚡᛖ ᛋᛈᛟᚴᛖᚾ ᚨᚷᚨᛁᚾᛋᛏ ᛏᚺᛖ ᚺᛟᚾᛟᚱ ᛟᚠ ᛏᚺᛁᛋ ᚲᛟᚢᚾᚲᛁᛚ, ᛁᛋ ᛏᚺᛁᛋ ᛏᚱᚢᛖ?"

The silence ticked on, waiting for a word or interjection broken by the Jarl or either of her companions. There were several implications left unsaid; plausible treason, for which there was death. Dishonor or cowardice, which was simply another banishment, or Holmgang trial. But what mattered most were the reactions of Skuld and her companions. Would the Jarl back down, or would she rise to the challenge the Elders presented?

@Nefieslab @Darasuum

 

[Darth Valravus]

___________________

Taking steps forward while behind Skuld, Darth Valravus was flanked by her group of warriors. They were scanning the area behind their helmets as they entered. Without a helmet the Sith Lord did the same. Her posture was strong and confident because she felt she belonged there just as much as any of them. Valravus would not give anyone the satisfaction of seeing evidence of insecurity.

She was glad other people had brought their own guard. It was important for all eyes on them to know they were not few in number, not anymore. Darth Valravus had not met many of the people here. A few she had heard of or researched but this was her first interaction with many of the living representatives of other clans.

Many of the visible faces were old. Mostly old men but there were women among them. The dark sider was not sure whether that meant they were powerful and kept their place as strong leaders despite old age or alternativly the rest of the clans had grown weak and did not challenge those that should be replaced. It was yet to be seen. The whispers and chatter that spoke of their arrival was understood well enough.

Darth Valravus was an outsider. But Deucalic was her first language and her ears were sharp. All the same, she did not let the quiet murmurs of the judgmental bother her. Mostly because many of the comments were about Tagal just as much as herself. She had to admit, even her own guard had raised a question or two about their ire towards Mandalorians. But it was nothing that now caused anything more than a glance that lasted a second or two longer than a normal look. They knew Tagal had been on Mandalore with their leader and how he had performed. Still, the same could not be said for all other mandalorians.

The others believed her a witch, a being akin to a monster or beast that only had the visage of a deucalian. That was fine. Her Sith peers in her youth believed her to be a rabid deucalian savage. Her enemies thought her to be a wild eyed killer devoid of morals. They were all built from stereotypes and ignorance. But Darth Valravus would be lying if she said she had done anything to disprove them intentionally. Even Skuld had believed her to be a witch and probably still did. But despite that she had seen the merits of having the Deucalian Sith as an ally. In time perhaps these people would realize it was better to have her as a friend rather than a foe.


@Nefieslab @Killa Ree

 

[Tagal Saxon]

Had she spoken against the honour of the council?

Tagal wouldn't say that she had but, then, Tagal would also probably point out that the idea that the council had any honour was utterly laughable. They were a waste of space as far as he was concerned; the busybodies of the clans and nothing even resembling the leadership that they were supposed to be. They were supposed to lead the Deucalian people and yet they had, instead, spent their time debating their own internal feuds.

Rather than, you know, attempt to actually fix anything.

In Tagal's book this made them rather worthless at the best of times and when they were seemingly standing in his wife's way? Well then they became more than worthless; they became an issue. They were standing in her way and her goal was noble in that it would see her people actually elevated. If they continued to stand in her way then Tagal would completely expect her to kill the damned old goats.

And if she didn't?

Well he supposed he could put some projects on the backburner and do it himself.

@Killa Ree @Darasuum

 

[Eva 'Skuld' Stark]

It was laughable.

They honestly expected respect, after sitting on their backsides and grumbling of old glories? Muttering about honor in cold stone castles meant nothing anymore. They had never been a truly devastating power; their only glory was in bloodthirst, for each others' throats and the throats they couldn't stomach to slit.

Nei. Such weakness had to be expunged from the galaxy. Listening ears would see the woman hesitate; straight for the kill, these old wolves still had some teeth. But it was time for them to roll over. She was sick of the pomp and ceremony, of them sitting before her and waiting to lecture her on honor.

She had been on the other side of honor, and they left her for the dead because of it. Kark them all, if she were of any hotter mind she would have already killed these arrogant heads of meager territory while they stood.

Instead, she took a breath. And let it out.

<<Brothers and sisters.>>

She spread her arms out; instantly guards bristled, fingers on triggers. She deliberately turned her back on the Council. On their guards... and faced the mute crowd before her.

<<We have sat in empty stone halls, speaking of old glories of our Clans; of the Age of Wolves, stories our grandparents have spoken with awe. And yet we,>> she pointed behind her, to the scorch marks on the stone, <<did nothing when we were attacked. We have sat by and you have forgotten what it means to forge your iron in the hearts of stars and those less worthy!>>

Titters and whispers began; there was some grumbling, some glaring.

<<If I have spoken anything...>>

She turned back to those that stood behind her, their faces as set as hers.

<<It is for the weakness that you have allowed to fester, sitting here. I have with me an alliance to glory, and ambition. And I will raze any who stand in my way. For Odinn's cause. For my people... and for Deucalia.>>

Let them try anything. She would take her place as the right of the strong, and they could either fire her down where she stood, or realize that she was right.

For too long they stood there, doing nothing. It was time for a change.

@Nefieslab @Darasaurus

 

[Uhtred Wardruna]

Uthred had been late. Uhtred was always-to these things. Or, at least the things that mattered. Among the crowds, he could hear the voices of the bold, speaking above the others that whispered as their betters traded words.

Oh, and how sharp-those words were.

The crowds were dense and huddled together, with Uhtred having to exert some effort to push individuals aside as he moved his way to the front. He knew what was going to happen, what his sword-sister was about to do. Saldoem's gaze was in these halls now, and it had been a long time coming.

When Uhtred had finally emerged from the masses, he could see the faces. All the faces. There was his old uncle, who had become disillusioned with how weak his people had become. Grinning in subtlety, Uhtred knew that it was only natural that the old warlord would be here. But there was also Tagal, the Saxon mate of Eva, and Valravus, the two-souled Sith witch. And then, the Elders of the highborn clans, standing against Eva Stark. It was like witnessing a saga in the making.

Uhtred slowly moved forward, taking a position behind Eva Stark. He didn't enter her vicinity; this was her hour, and that space was hers alone. But he had moved before the others enough to show that he openly supported her, and behind him came the warriors present from Clan Orosii and Clan Wardruna both, showing that the Jarl Eva spoke not for Clan Stark alone. Perhaps more clans would join, taking a place behind her, for now, only time would tell.

@Nefieslab @Darasaurus @Killa Ree

 

[The Storyteller]

Her words rang hard in an empty hall. When Warduna and Orosii stepped behind, not one gaze showed an element of surprise. But it was when Clan Alemanii's Jarl stepped forward, followed by the Jarl of Thorite. Both grandsons and great-grandsons respectively, each with their men and bannermen.

It was then the Elders seemed to regard the woman that stood within the judgement circle. Her words were not wrong... but they were hard, bitter words, ones that no leader ever wanted to face or experience. Durinn, in particular, was keenly aware of the losses on either side, and yet there was the matter of pride, of personal need. Honor demanded blood, after all, and though she was honor-bound to both House Radegast and Odin, she did not lay claim to either now. None had come to challenge the right of leader since his own youth, and it had ended in failure.

He exchanged looks first with his companion, Valaeria. And then Nerthus, and Urdur. There were no outcries in defense of such accusations, nor was there outrage.

That was when Urdur felt it deep within his gut.

After years of battle and war, many long years spent raiding and pillaging... they amounted to nothing. Their people were nothing more than fables to scare younglings who dared to dream in the stars; their people had not been one since the Klaenar age. Before bitter civil war divided them as they were now, creating a many-branched tree that fractured further.

And now it was dying. On principle of pride.

<<So you speak against the council.>> Vaelaria spoke first, ever the voice most listened to. Once, she might have had ambitions for a formidable leader, but that age had passed, leaving her the only role that once suited her thirsty ambition; the role of Elder. As it had been for the last few generations.

<<How will you change? Do you have proof to your claim?>>

And with that, her gaze landed solidly on Valravus… and then to Uhtred, as though daring them both to speak. Nerthus, however, was intently focused on the Mandalorian, his expression hidden beneath a thin mask of watchfulness. And Urdur stared at the Wardruna boy, eyes narrowed.

And if both vouched in her favor, then it seemed the Elders had a challenger before them. And those that pursued this ambition never came back from the icy plains of death. And both Skuld, and the Elders there, were aware of it.

@Nefieslab @Darasaurus @Korvo

 

[Tagal Saxon]

Gods but this was dull.

They were standing against his wife's ascension while not actually providing any evidence that they could actually do a better job themselves. Like, seriously - who the hells did these people think they were to shite all over someone actually planning to do something?

They'd spent almost their entire collective lives doing nothing.

In fact...

"Are you done pretending like you have a better option?" He called out bluntly, arms crossed over his chest as he called them out, "You can pout and you can cry about it but the simple fact of the matter is this; you haven't got any other choice. No one else wants to try and lead you sorry lot and you'd be better off just letting her do it."

He scoffed.

"But having taken the measure of you 'elders' I reckon she might be better off leading a mercenary group or something - at least then there'd be some teeth."

@Korvo @Killa Ree