#♤ feat: luna.

[lotharx]

starter for @lunadarkwoodx.

where: nornwatch tower

when: during the raid before luna and co. we're yoinked to brood mommy

note: as the great fergie once said, (i am in fact) two thousand and late

A blanket of white noise had settled over the tower, snow listlessly fell from above, a fresh blanket which would send them off on the next stop within their journey. Lothar hadn't been able to sleep well since the genesis of their journey; whether it was the biting cold, the rats they now cohabited the Keep with, or the wailing cries of orphans muffled in the night - the berserker and mercenary often paced in the room he'd been allotted. It was true that silence was a danger, something many found comforting was something he often found unnerving; he'd been used to the mindless stretch of small talk, hushed stories meant to comfort children prattled out in the late hours of the night. Monsters could not strike if warriors and protectors stayed up to slay the dragon - it was a false hope, a prayed wanton that would ultimately crumble before his eyes.

Chaos erupted in the courtyard below, a stampeding ogre charging those who had quietly rested within the enclosed court. Lothar had heard the cries, the snarling wails, that animal ferocity when once was faced with the pivotal breaking point of life or death. Shrieks and genlocks seemed to come forth from the darkness that shrouded the halls inside as Lothar stepped out of his quarters, his ax wielded and ready to strike.

Darkspawn garnered a certain strength that left mere mortals helpless to their lethality, but Lothat would not go down without a fight, his ax striking the shriek that lay in wait just outside his door. A lucky hit as it surrendered to the shadows and pulled away for an easier target, but Lothar was not willing to let it slip by so easily for it's next mark. Others stirred from their rooms as darkspawn littered the halls, chaos and disorder at the cynosure of Lothar's gaze. Enemy, friend, or foe; it was nearly impossible to tell as darkspawn cut through more innocents than Lothar could even count.

He yanked the closest recognizable person behind him, a quiet blonde, one he'd barely exchanged several words to but now felt vehement to protect. "The stairs are not far off," the corridor was mirrored, there'd be dozens more to face on their descent, but the only way out was through. Black ichor had already stained his face, the spattering of a hurlock who'd attempted to charge him as he flanked the wall with...- Luna, was it? - behind him. "How are you in a fight?" A clumsy hand yanked a sheathed dagger off his thigh to blindly give to her.

[lotharx]

Lothar had kept his distance upon the recovery of those who had once been taken but there was relief that he found within himself. He'd gone over the rapid fire of events the night the Nornwatch Tower had been overtaken with darkspawn and though he could, logically, not blame himself for her capture; the barbarian still discovered bits and fragments of guilt when reminded of his failure. He tried not to seem too elated that the woman was still kicking, though he'd already known that considering he was apart of the mission to recover them. Still, many Iskarans had proved to garner some growing pains about Lysara, even Lothar, despite the fact he'd been outsourced to the Queendom a handful of times over his life.

A faint smile is formed, paired with a brief nod, "They're only out for blood so long as you make a show of it." A wretched pantomime, something that was equally macabre as it was meant to be amusing; that was what a life was worth to these Lysarans and it was pitiful. Lothar had lost his way over the years, but the Warrior's Guild often attempted to remind him of the honor he was meant to lead with, and the missive he was constantly supposed to strive for.

"Likewise," the smile grew slightly, "You were in those competitions then?" Lothar hadn't bothered to watch nor see who had signed up but it was rather unfortunate Luna had decided to shoot herself in the foot by doing so.

She had entered the Gladiator contest and the diving one too and had failed spectacularly. She had tried being a part of the merriment, wanted to embrace the festivities as a break from her grief and anguish and yet she wasn't the right type of cut for the games. Luna couldn't bring harm to a creature who had been trapped in the Gladiator ring, no matter how fearsome the appearance, especially not after the regrets of not turning back to bring justice to those poachers who had harvested from an innocent unicorn foul. She wasn't the strongest swimmer and despite finding the temple first ended up on death's door because she tried to take force fields down by running straight through.

The people of Eterna hated her more for her attempts, had complained that she ruined the spectacle by exposing the dracodile's eggs that one of the ladies of Lysara had stolen along with capturing the great Dracodile, her station was lost on Luna. There were no titles in the woods and society social politics were a game that Luna didn't care for.

The crowd hatred from the diving contest was because Luna pulled a puppy out of her satchel at 500 ft cause her writer is dumb, luckily no animals were harmed during the games. The festival that celebrated Neptune still didn't diminish all they lost and pretending meant that they just stood with empty fists. "They hate me, I'm terrible with gaining any crowd favor. Not killing is a no-go here." The last time she saw him, he tried to save her from the monsters who stole her away in the night. "It's nice to see you again."

[lotharx]

The Ax had left many friends and allies behind when the Aetherians first conquered Iskaldrik's defenses. He'd known when it was futile but had nearly gone down swinging, a warrior's defeat for someone like him would continue fighting until their very last breath. Lothar was not known for tactical smarts, he was a tank, he'd continue swinging blindly at something until it broke, and a sanguinary darkspawn was no different a conquest to defeat. Mindless rage without the aid of berserker's brew led to their descent from the higher regions of the tower; his ax was stained with the ichorous sludge of darkspawn, but dozens more still shrieked and snarled in the shadows. Where the Aetherians were equipped with the brutal force of magic, however, the darkspawn merely had brutish strength aided by mere surprise. They could only be as lethal in counteract towards the hoped weakness of their opponent and Lothar was not weak.

A mortal man supplemented by his ire towards these damning creatures, one of Luna's merits was no match, and he'd see her through to the other side, he had to; for everyone he left behind and for everyone they'd lost along the way. No more could suffer at the hands of the darkspawn, at the cruelty of the Aetherians, he would not stand for it. His moral compass was bent and warped under time as a mercenary but even Lothar could draw a line in the sand when it came to innocents being hurt.

Lothar would get them through the tower's courtyard, towards open ground and away from sprawling darkspawn-- Luna's scream resounded from behind him as she slipped from any line of sight. Failure, another let down, another promise tarnished as brutality continued to greet them within Hrimthur's expanse. A bestial roar that could contend with the darkspawn's left him as his ax swung through the legions, obsidian blood spattering as shrieks of their opponents rang through the night. No matter his attempts, Luna was gone amongst many others and as the darkspawn filtered back to their caverns and tunnels, his head bowed in solemn rage at the thought of their fates.

end.

Luna could hear the wind's howl from the broken rafters, the wild pushed in and urged her forward, the land was infected with blight and yet with each howl through the gaps within the walls was a desperate prayer to endure. Screams echoed through the keep and there was a chill on her skin, even as fear made her heartbeat pound louder as there were beastly screams of victory and human screams of agony

Taking steps on a sticky floor that reeked of spilt iron, she held herself as a weapon, she had never raised a hand towards another in violence but she had spent her life hunting for the food that was served upon her table. She kept herself on guard and her werewolf senses lent itself to her aid.

The Ax leads her towards the hope of safety, a shriek jumped from the shadows and aimed for the throat, a blade in the Darkspawn's chest crumbled it's diseased body. Using force, Lother's boot collides with a shut door and it opens to expose a gruesome scene, visceral blood paints the walls and claw marks have ripped refugee's bodies to shreds.

A projectile lit with flames entraps the wall near where they stand, a dark figure waits for them with a missive in their mind to take the blonde for the Broodmother and any heroics were useless in the face of such evil. Claws reached for her and she felt their grasp upon her skin. "Help!" A scream ripped from her throat and the Darkspawn had designs on the tunnels beneath the keep.

[lotharx]

Slaying a warg held some sign of silent promise, but Lothar still tried not to visibly falter at the fact he was standing aside a practical beginner. The majority of the troupe were novices in survival skills, however, he had to continually remind himself of this; it was what often kept Lothar pushing himself to the very extreme. The Warriors Guild granted this silent drive to protect those who were defenseless, and she spoke to that promise, something he would deliver upon. "No worries," huffed out as he dodged a sly and tenebrous shriek as the creature leapt from its shadows, attempting to slice at Lothar's neck.

Cunning and surprise were the darkspawns preferred method and he was certain it'd cull another before reverting back for them - not that it garnered more time for the two to escape. Which was, unfortunately, Lothar's ultimate decision. A barbarian and berserker, one who enjoyed the thrill to merely kill and rage, and here he was cutting through hordes of evil only to protect. How he'd changed. "-Fighting, killing; it's like tying your shoes," a breathless finish to his retort, though he couldn't muster enough conviction towards it.

"Outside is where we've got to head," within the shadowy caverns of the Keep they were in prominent danger, corners and depths hiding the legions of darkspawn who had intent to kill. "Stay on defense, eyes peeled." Stating the obvious, sure, but how many times had he seen another freeze up or screw their eyes shut in fear when danger came sprinting forth?

The Ax kicked the door to the stairwell in, maimed bodies littered the stairs, dark ichor coating the railing, spilling across the walls; he'd hoped whatever created this had chosen a different hunting ground. Brazenly, he stepped into the foul corridor, though he never stepped too far from the blonde; he'd promised himself to shepherd at least one person from the massacre.

The first indication that something had gone terribly wrong was the smell of burning, a scent that smelt of scorched flesh and burnt hair -- one didn't need to have burned firewood for generations to recognize the sick sour smell. Sleep came in rare bouts, nerves were shot and grief had a claw like grip on her throat yet when she dreamed, she saw the Wolves in the Ironwood forest and travelling closer to the Keep. Even the beasts that had always guided and protected her couldn't arrive in time to stop what had begun as the Darkspawn thrashed through the rotting walls.

Those that had sat around the campfires, releasing the dangerous smoke that signaled where they hid were the first to be dragged into the burning coals. She could see and hear everything that moved in the darkness, she tried to evade and yet there were too many and they had come here to collect the maidens. It was a planned attack with a goal in mind, to take the women who would serve as midwives to the Broodmother.

Taking the Warg down was difficult enough when it was two against the Darkspawn who stood alone, it was easier to be savage in battle when she wasn't outnumbered but there was no where to run where monsters weren't waiting and the screams of the slaughter echoed off the cracked stone walls.

A hand reaches out for her in the darkness, she does not scream as her ears told her before her eyes did that it was a man who had reached for her. She didn't have time to pay attention to her improved senses, it was the wolf waking up within. She had her hatchet, a small knife that Alessia had given her but she reaches for what is offered. The dagger is held in her shaking hands. "I've hunted for my food and killed a Warg earlier but nothing like this."