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Post by Copper on Dec 30, 2014 17:11:30 GMT
Evalda hurried into the library, walking up to the head librarian, a retired Viking with a wispy white beard. "I need all of your books on Thunderdrums!"
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Post by Dawnmist on Dec 30, 2014 17:16:27 GMT
Rikard stood, realising that he still hadn't managed to get any training done, and plucked his knife from the dummy's chest.
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Post by Copper on Dec 30, 2014 17:17:28 GMT
Hours later, Evalda was strapping her saddle to Brynhilde, carefully making sure that ever my buckle and knot was perfect.
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Post by Dawnmist on Dec 30, 2014 17:20:19 GMT
The chief glanced over from where he sat outside his house, allowing himself a small smile. New Vikings were always cause for a celebration, and he was eager for an excuse to break into the ale stash.
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Post by Copper on Dec 30, 2014 17:23:54 GMT
And ten hours later, the dragon and rider returned.
Evalda was strewn on Brynhilde's back. The dragon'snhide was peppered with broken arrows, blood leaking from the wounds. However terrible the dragon looked, her rider looked worse. A long cut, directly below her previous one, drowned her face in sticky scarlet. Under her arm, tightly held, was a lumpy black egg. There was a heavy dent in the blade of her battleaxe.
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Post by Dawnmist on Dec 30, 2014 17:30:29 GMT
Rikard raised his head from the transcript he was studying as he heard the commotion outside. A smile crossed his features as he saw both rider and dragon from the window, and he made his way outside to greet her.
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Post by Copper on Dec 30, 2014 17:32:57 GMT
Blood sopped her hair as she made her way off the dragon, egg clutched tightly under her arms. Still, sweat gathered on her forehead and she appeared to be muttering something under her breath.
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Post by Dawnmist on Dec 30, 2014 17:35:22 GMT
He placed a hand on her shoulder, a little concerned as he realised how much blood there was. "Evalda? What are you saying?"
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Post by Copper on Dec 30, 2014 17:36:51 GMT
She flinched at his touch, eyes wide as she stepped back. "Dad, no, dad, stop, please stop, please, no..."
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Post by Dawnmist on Dec 30, 2014 17:40:03 GMT
His eyes widened slightly, and he motioned for the other Vikings to back away. "Evalda, it's Rikard. You're safe now, you're back in the village."
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Post by Copper on Dec 30, 2014 17:47:29 GMT
"Dad, stop, don't give me another cut," she sobbed, crumpling to the ground. "Dad, stop, I'll look just like you, stop it, don't give me more scars, please..." On her arm, cut into the freckled, pale flesh were words, leaking Crimson onto her clothes. Outsider.
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Post by Dawnmist on Dec 30, 2014 18:00:10 GMT
"She needs her wounds looking at, now," he ordered, lifting her easily in his arms and making his way over to the medical quarters, where he kicked the door open and carried her inside.
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Post by Copper on Dec 30, 2014 18:01:50 GMT
She struggled in his arms. "Dad! Stop! DAD! DONT KILL ME! Stop! Stop cutting me, I'll do anything, just kill me, please just kill me, I want to die, just kill me!"
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Post by Dawnmist on Dec 30, 2014 18:04:11 GMT
He tightened his arms around her, trying to suppress her struggling as he placed her down in an empty bed. "Evalda, your father isn't here. He's in exile, remember?"
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Post by Copper on Dec 30, 2014 21:00:16 GMT
Her breathing became shallower. Evalda shook as her surroundings began to become less blurry. The man holding her was not her father. "R-Rikard...?"
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Post by Dawnmist on Dec 30, 2014 21:07:08 GMT
"Yes, it's me," he said, relief evident in every word. "Are you okay?"
An elderly Viking woman approached the girl, a damp cloth in her hand, and she started to tend to her wounds. She muttered words in Dragonese as she did so, moving respectfully around the Chief.
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Post by Copper on Dec 30, 2014 21:25:46 GMT
"I got the egg, Cheif," she mumbled weakly as the cloth went over the cuts that spelled 'Outsider.' "Am I a Viking now?"
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Post by Dawnmist on Dec 30, 2014 21:29:13 GMT
"Yeah," he said with a smile, resting his hand on her shoulder gently. "You're a Viking now."
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Post by Copper on Dec 30, 2014 21:30:22 GMT
She managed a small grin before all of her senses shut down, the face of the Cheif disappearing to blackness.
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Post by Dawnmist on Dec 30, 2014 21:37:48 GMT
He stood back to allow the Viking elder more space, and sat on the next bed along with a sigh. It seemed almost stupid, the way young Vikings were made to risk their lives in the initiation process. However, a tradition was a tradition, and it wasn't really up to him to make such alterations.
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