Waiting on the news (Muire)

[Arcill]

After the long and harsh winter, spring had finally arrived and the land was again blooming. It was a late night and the moon and the stars gave beams of light through the thick branches of the Bracillian Forest, where within the Barbarians had settled to live in the ancient elven ruins. Here the Avvars, Chasind`s and a few Elves had gathered since Arcill had managed to unite them, where from the Frostback Mountains they had pillaged and burned their way. Tents had been put up close to the ruins, and those who had chosen not to sleep outside had settled themselves within. Guards were stationed on the most watchful places, and only one small road through a passage of cliffs led to its broken gates. Loud noises came from the deep underground tunnels beneath the fortress and there in its great hall a brawl between two great warriors were fought. In the upper end of the room sat Arcill with his legs crossed, and in his right hand he held a skull which he drank from. With a fixed look he took a sip and he smiled as the fight in front of him got more and more intense, the fight between the two men was a show to see who had the right claim on their chosen woman and as they fought, the other barbarians around cheered for the one they favored.

The brawl that happened in the circle grew worse as one of the men was busted upon and began to lose blood, it was a fight to the death without weapons and they both represented each their side of the barbarian horde. One was an Avvar who was huge and strong, the other a Chasind was who averages built and quick, while the woman they were arguing about was a fair and beautiful Chasind. How the two men had begun to argue in the first place was a long story, but Arcill cared not, as he thought the only way for it to settle was a fight.

Tonight a feast was held, drink and food stolen from the Fereldens was given out and the barbarians celebrated the way they knew best. Many of the men and women were drunk, and they all had fun, except the Elves who remained silent in the background. The elven ruins which few knew existed provided the barbarians the best shelter one could be offered in times of war, and it was from its position Arcill had trained his warriors and planned out his actions. The army knew the Fereldens were coming, but they did not know when, which was why Arcill had sent Muire to scout ahead, who he hoped would return soon.

[Muire]

Crouching just inside the treeline Muire could see the slow progress of the Ferelden army along the road. A small force, no more than a tenth of Arcill's, likely expecting aid from the soldiers in Gwaren. There were only eight thousand men there, to Arcill's hundred thousand, and not enough to make a difference in the upcoming battle even before the Avvars and Chasind had attacked the town and killed the soldiers there. Muire's eyes narrowed thoughtfully. The Fereldens were well trained and very fierce, but they hadn't stood a chance against Arcill's superior numbers. This new group would fall quickly as well - especially now that the barbarians had all the supplies and weapons to be found in Gwaren. Time to get back to Arcill then. Muire gathered the elves she had scouting with her and headed back to the ruins, all of them moving swiftly and quietly through the trees.

It wasn't a long trek, and soon Muire was heading down the steps to the main hall underground where Arcill was waiting to make her report. She sneered inwardly at the raucous laughter and brawling, though her expression was as stony as ever. They were all idiots to allow themselves to become so distracted in the midst of a war, but if Arcill allowed it she would keep silent. He knew the ways of humans far better than she did, and he was her leader. No, more than that, he was her purpose, her giver-of-names.

"Look, it's Arcill's new whore!" The man's laughter grated on her nerves, but she said nothing. Reprimanding the man was pointless - he was obviously far too drunk to remember anything she said or did the next day. "Tougher than the last one, anyway, maybe she'll last longer."

The man was dead. He didn't know it yet, but he died the moment he spoke of Arcill's wife. No matter. She waited for Arcill's reaction, and continued on with her purpose. "I will give you my report as we train." With that, she turned back around and strode up the stairs to the great, empty hall they'd been using as a training yard. There was no one there now - it seemed to her that the only time anyone ever was in the room was when she was training the men to fight better. Idiots. Well, at least she and Arcill would have plenty of space for their sparring.

[Arcill]

Seeing the brawl unfold and become worse, Arcill took notice as Muire came down the stairs behind the crowd in front of him. Finally she had arrived, as expected, and hopefully she had the news which he long had waited for. Where there any sight of the Fereldens? Or would the barbarians still need to wait in the woods? It was a question he wanted answered, but he was a patient man and if the Fereldens would not like to meet them, he would gladly continue the way they had, raiding villages were they could steal their equipment and food, just like they had done recently at Gwaren. The village had been burned and looted, almost none had survived, and those who had, had been lucky to escape by ship. Arcill took no prisoners, he hated the Fereldens and if he caught any of them he would kill them at the spot. The food and drink they had found could last for weeks, maybe months, but even they had plenty Arcill sure would not waste it all on one night, even the victory over Gwaren needed to be celebrated.

Taking another sip from the skull which was full of mead, Arcill turned his focus back on the fight that went on while Muire approached. The Avvarian warrior caused the Chasind to fall and when it looked as if the Avvar were about to win, the Chasind rolled over with a sword in hand and sliced the throat of the Avvar. It was a definite kill and the blood from the open throat poured onto the crowd who stood around watching, laughing of joy as it happened. The Avvar desperately tried to stop the bleeding, but slowly he fell to his knees and then on the floor as he choked to death. Those who did not laugh of satisfaction by seeing the man die were either upset or shocked by the horror that transpired, especially his friends who thought it unjust that the Chasind had used a weapon for the final blow, when weapons had been banned before the fight.

Arcill said nothing, because it was common that barbarians blamed each other after a fight even it was supposed to settle things. Instead Arcill rather approved of what happened, because the Chasind had showed ingenuity by taking the weapon even it was banned. It was something he wanted to teach them, that one could not simply win by pure strength or honor when fighting Fereldens. He thought it was necessary for them to use other means if they were ever going to win the war, and that was exactly how he planned to do it.

Just when the brawl was over and the Chasind`s celebrated the champion who had won, a frustrated drunken Avvar spoke out loud and claimed Muire to be Arcill`s new whore. The man spoke badly of Arcill, Muire and Arcill`s dead wife and it was not something he took lightly. Arcill bit his teeth together and his grip on the seat he sat on tightened firmly, boiling of anger and rage while Muire came up to him and spoke in his ear that she would await in the training room not far away. Arcill did not look at her, but kept a fixed look on the man and then suddenly he tackled him. Punch after punch he hammered down on his face as Arcill sat on top, and without any chance to beg for mercy, Arcill silenced the drunkard.

Once he was done, Arcill stood up and sneered by what had happened, the crowd around who previously had cheered of joy were now speechless. Arcill simply turned around to look at them and as he did, they backed away when his gaze met theirs. Without any explanation about why he killed him or words about the brawl, Arcill went to follow Muire to the training yard in the next room, hoping she had some good news to tell.

Blood dripped from his hands as he walked up the stairs and the crowd who previously had been silent as he left began murmuring between themselves again. Arcill was angry; he wanted an end to his misery. Even he had killed the man responsible for the death of his wife, he still yet felt there was no peace and no matter what he did, he could not bring her back. Arcill arrived the training yard where Muire was, but still he did not look at her. What went through his mind was only sadness and anger, and as he walked toward a pot of water, he sighed of frustration, washing his hands which were covered in blood. "Damn fools should watch their words better..." He spoke angry and then turned to look at Muire.

[Muire]

It was never a good thing to see Arcill so distracted. The man's temper was explosive and violent, with more anger trapped inside him than could ever really be held in check - it was his greatest weakness, and there was only one way that Muire knew of to calm him down. Grabbing a sword and shield from the racks of weapons that lined the walls, she strode over to him with her spear still held firmly in her other hand. He was still washing the blood from his fists, muttering under his breath, and Muire frowned.

"We will speak as we train," she told him, smacking his thigh with the butt of her spear. She tossed the sword and shield at his feet and, without waiting for a response, walked to the centre of the training room.

As soon as Arcill picked up the weapons, Muire ran at him again only to drop to the ground and slide past. She lifted her spear, butt end up and the sharp steel head pointed down, with the full intention of slamming it in Arcill's back as she went by. "The Fereldens have maybe ten thousand men, all moving south," she said. Then she flipped onto her stomach, planted her feet, and leaped at him, shoulder first.

Once she was back on her feet she circled slowly, spear at the read with the head on her opponent and friend. "Your temper helps no one. If you broke your hands in that man's punishment you would be useless." Again she charged, but this time she veered away before she came in reach of Arcill's sword and struck out low with the shaft of her spear in an attempt at knocking his feet out from under him. Arcill was the strongest man she'd ever known in many ways, but she would always be faster.

[Arcill]

Once the shield and sword was thrown on the floor in front Arcill`s feet, he knew exactly what Muire intended, she wanted to let him express his anger in the form of fighting, as it also would not only give him a release of tension, but also give them both sometime training with their favourite weapons. As Muire touched his thigh with the butt of her spear, he could not help but to smile in return, reminding him of the first time they had met in the Korcari Wilds when she had stormed out to assist him killing an Ogre. She had befriended him that day and ever since had she stuck to his side, of which he was pleased. Having her as a friend proved useful and she had quickly earned the status as his second in command, training his barbarians as well aiding him in certain situations.

With a smirk on the face, Arcill watched how Muire walked to the center of the room and once she was ready he took the opportunity to pick up the weapons that lay on the floor. Then just as he did, she came leaping at him and before he could strike at her vertically, she slide past him on the floor and hit him on the back with the butt of her spear again, causing him to trip forward before regaining his stance. Then as he turned around to face her with both weapons in hand, the spear came against his shoulder which he blocked with the sword, and as she circled him with the spear close to his face, he followed and circled with her as he glared listening to what she said, then pushing her away with the shield before stepping back.

What she had just said about the Ferelden army did not worry him, ten thousand was nothing compared to the army he had gathered, but what she said about his violent behavior got to him and even though she was right, he felt like answering. “There needs more than a weak man`s skull to break my hands, and had I not reacted, others would have thought of me as weak, or worse.” He spoke back with a deep and dark voice as he waited for her to leap at him again, and as she came, Arcill slashed the sword horizontally, only to be outmatched as she crept low and went for his feet. Her actions made him fall hard at his back on the floor, but before she could hit him again from above he rolled to the left side, picking up the shield he just had lost, before rolling back to the right, trapping her spear in his arm while clashing the shield against her face as he stood up.

“Ten thousand Ferelden`s heading this way? Ha, sounds like fun!” With Muire possibly shocked by the hit in the face, Arcill soon after went to slice at her across the torso with the sword, hoping to inflict some damage, but not to kill her, knowing she was clever enough to block or step back.