Cage the Beast! [The Primeval]

[Triss]

Shadowmane rarely spoke about himself. His life on Midvinter so often depended on not sharing any sort of information with Valkyri he encountered in his lonesome path. Intimacy of this kind was completely foreign to the bearded savage. Nonetheless, looked away into the distance, his broad chest rising as he inhaled, gathering breath to utter what was meant to be passed over;
"My father was something of an arbiter, to our king. The Shadowmanes were of unyielding loyalty. We served the crown for more than ten generations."
His posture straightened as some semblance of pride. Wide shoulders were predestined to wear a heavy armor with ease.

"This was easily forgotten when my father chose the wrong side." he concluded, without much melodrama. His gaze slinged back to the Host Lord, his emerald eyes glistening with determination. He took a step forward and gazed down upon the regent of Bastion, who now almost basked in his massive shadow.
"But I am not him. I continue a legacy far older. The banner of Primeval is the banner I hold high now."

The inner beast wanted to take another step forward, to sniff and touch the Lord to see if she was real. Einar chained it to the floor, his rugged visage calm as the surface of a deep mountain lake.

[member="Anja Aj'Rou"]

 

[Boethiah]

"Hold it well," she said, moving towards the forge where the master smith was already at work. "And what weapon would you ask for, Shadowmane?" She turned to the Valkyri, her words delivered with a curious tone.

The smith of Bastion was trained in the ancient arts that were carried down by the Fel Dynasty, even after they collapsed the secrets were still passed down every generation to ensure their survival. Only now they answered to the Primeval, and the Host Lord's will. Anja already wielded a masterful weapon made from this forge, one to which she imbued her force energies into. Dreamweaver is the blade's name.

Whatever he wished for could be made in this very forge. Blades, axes, perhaps something else entirely.

There was no feat that could not be achieved.

[member="Einar Shadowmane"]

 

[Triss]

Fern coloured irises bore deeply into the luminous embers of the forge, the heat emanating from the hearth eliciting a few beads of sweat on Einar's bony brow. He gazed into the pyre, and the blaze gazed back, speaking to him in a wordless, primordial tongue. To a Valkyri, dialogue with the elements was weaved into the very fabric of their species. Conquest of ice was only to be achieved through fire.

"A broadsword." Shadowmane stated simply, then let his gaze sling back to the Host Lord - "Large enough to decapitate two infidels at a time."
He stepped forth towards the hearthstone, where several finished swords lay. Einar scooped one into his hands, firmly gripping the handle only to swing it from side to side. During his years in exile on Midvinter, he had learned a thing or two about wielding a blade. There was no specific technique, just what felt natural. Nonetheless, the weapon was too small for a man of his stature, more of a shoto than an actual sword.

"You said something about justice..." Einar began as he reminisced of customs on his home planet - "...he who upholds it needs a weapon that will become a symbol of justice. My father had a sword, dedicated to him by a high king. This sword was lost."
Einar inspected the blade closely, openly admiring the craftmanship of the Primeval royal blacksmith. He then returned the blade to the sheath and back to the weapons rack.
"Perhaps it was lost so that I could carry the sword of another regent."

[member="Anja Aj'Rou"]

 

[Boethiah]

"Bastion is one world of many, certainly the others are governed by my Warlords but they too must know that my laws are not to be disrespected. There will come a time when you must remind them of that, I know this, I've seen it in my dreams--rebels and tyrants whose arrogance lead them astray." Her reply to his theory was prophesy taken from her visions. She had once seen Wayland burn under her fleets, and it did. She saw the Citadel of Ziost under her feet, and it was. She's seen enemies and allies fall around her with or without the Primeval's involvement, and she's seen the struggles her and her people must face.

Only a fool would attempt to change fate, but only a coward would not try to command it.

If Einar was to be her champion of justice, then he'd certainly need to understand the woman whom he served.

[member="Einar Shadowmane"]