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Leif Blakely

0 · 210 views · located in Geiranger, Norway

a character in “Unworthy of Valhalla”, as played by FaddedFox

Description

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Age:
28
Gender:
Male
Orientation:
Homosexual
Appearance:
Leif fancies himself a predator, considering he is hunting hunters. Thanks to the nature of his hobbies, he's lithe and nimble on his feet. He's got enough muscle on his bones to stand a decent chance in a fist fight, but it is obvious he's built for endurance running rather than brute strength. His necessary par core has helped maintain his lean form. Leif sports short dark hair and isn't much livelier in his wardrobe choices. Everything about him is dark and made to blend. His pallor due to blood letting doesn't help much in that regard either. The only thing bright about him is his piercing blue-grey eyes. He can pin you with his intense gaze if not blood runes. He has several such runes marking his arms, chest, and abdomen. Each gives power to a protective spell or counter attack if he gets surprised or ambush save for two small runes. One is placed over his heart and the other on his right wrist. These two runes are the blood bonds he's created to control two vaettr; Lofn and Ivar.

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Skills:
As a blood mage he requires the use of his hands and blood. If he cannot use his hands or draw blood, his power is of little use. Similarly, most of his necromancy abilities require chanting. If he can't speak he can't chant. In a fight, the more wounds he has weakens his body but strengthens his magic so it is a catch 22. If his foes are bleeding, he can use that to his advantage, so it is best to try and avoid being injured so you don't provide him any advantages. Blood magic and necromancy are not inherently evil. If you monitor your use, it can be used for good, such as drawing away poisons in the blood or providing protection. Blood magic however craves more blood so it has a corruptive quality. The more you use, the more tempting it is to draw more blood and more power. After you give in to killing, it tends to be a slippery slope down to more corruption and the need for more power and well, blood. It is a loop of corruption. If a witch decides to stop the cycle, the blood magic retaliates and start inflicting pain on the wielder. It is almost like a drug and it sends the user into withdrawal as the magic channels begin to wither. It can kill the wilder, but if a witch is strong enough to withstand the withdrawal, they can overcome the corruption. If they ever use the blood magic again, the magic is weak and requires a lot more blood and energy to actually be useful again and tends not to be worth it. Small sigils at that point are they only real use the blood magic provides.
Medium - As a Necromancer, Leif is able to to communicate with the dead. He can speak to any spirit in the area he currently resides and can call spirits to answer his call and make their presence known. He can conduct seances and allow a spirit to speak through him to their loved ones for a brief period of time, or just give others the messages of the dead. Similarly, he relays messages from the living to the dead. He must open his mind to allow the communication so he can always see the dead, but he can't communicate with them until he opens that channel. This means he can also speak to the spirits trapped in Vægher; both volva like him and the veidi madir.
Time-Reader - Since he's practiced his necromancy for a long time, he's strengthened his sixth sense to read the events of the past. If a death occurred recently or the event itself was devastating (such as a large battle or a plague), Leif can draw on the emotions and the death to see a vision of what transpired. During this however, he is vulnerable as he looses sight of the present and doesn't know what is happening around him.
Reanimation - This power is one of his stronger necromancer skills. Leif can reanimate the dead, including the dead buried beneath the ground. The deeper they are, the harder it is however. This draws on his energy, the energy of the environment, him and others around him. As a blood mage, he can sustain this longer by drawing on the blood of his enemies to power the spell and keep it up. This leaves evidence however as the area dies, leaving behind rotted vegetation and further death from the living creatures that inhabited the area. This cannot be reversed for years. The number of people he can call to his aid is determined by the bodies currently there, his energy, and the life energy available to him. If he runs out of external energy, the spell latches on to the caster so he has to be careful not to end up dead himself. Weakened enough, the spell breaks and the dead lose their vigor. Once one of the corpses is slain they do not revive a second time.
Spirit-bending - This particular skill was discovered as a cross between necromancy and blood-magic. Leif can command spirits using a blood mark which he anchors on his person. This allows him to command a spirit to do whatever he wills and the spirit in question cannot go against its master. The more a spirit fights the bond, the more they begin to break until they break apart and are lost forever. This bond allows the spirit to take a more solid form in the living realm. If released, the spirit is stuck between the world of the dead and the human realm, doomed to haunt until the blood-mage dies. The bond itself is fed by more blood, forcing the blood-mage to either continue spilling their own to renew it or use the blood of others. If left to weaken, the spirit can break out of the bond but again, are doomed to wander between the worlds.
sigils - As a blood mage, Leif can create sigils for protection, detection, and traps. Each pentagram requires the lines to be drawn in blood. Obviously, he cannot use his own body because he'd lose far too much blood. The stronger the sigil, the more blood that is required. Each one however needs to be mixed with a little of his own blood to bind the spell to his magic and once the sigil is activated, it alerts him. He can have several sigils placed at a time but once they are triggered, it draws on his energy and if he has 20 sigils that all go off at once, he will be severely weakened or could potentially lose his life depending on the strength of each sigil. One particular sigil to mention is called the 'Death Mark'. This sigil can only be performed once every few months and is the most powerful sigil he can perform. It is essentially a curse. It requires a lot of his own blood and something of value (or blood) from a target. He then marks that person with a sigil that will drain their life until they die. This spell works at long distance and generally the person dies with a week but the time varies on the person's will to survive. The only way to break it is if the blood mage dies or another blood mage or necromancer does a counter spell to reverse it. While it is active, the blood mage gets energy from the person to fuel other spells.
Body control - This ability is sort of a sigil but a little different. If he is in a fight and an enemy is bleeding, he can control the blood. To a certain extent, it means he can poison the blood by corrupting it and thereby killing the person, draw the blood out of their body, killing them quickly and giving himself more blood to use, or control the body to do his bidding. This however drains a lot of magic on the victim and from himself. Leif can only 'mark' a person for this if they are injured and he can physical touch them. He can only do this to one person at a time. The more he commands the body, the more energy is used until the person's strength gives out and they die. It is best you try not to get too close to him.


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Strengths:
Magic - he has studied his skills and has practiced them enough to be quiet deadly and proficient in both necromancy and blood magic.
Calculating - He knows how to sit back and observe a situation before he takes action. He plans his next move painstakingly, to make sure he places his runes right and gets the desired outcome. He does not want to be caught and has too many things he wants to do to be reckless about it. This also has made him seem cold to others and he uses people as tools to get desired affects so emotions don't usually override his senses.
Endurance - Due to the nature of his magic's draining properties, he's had to work on his endurance. This had led him to have higher pain tolerance and to test the limits of his physical body in various ways. Where many would topple over in exhaustion, he'd still be standing. As such, he's also worked up a lean muscle and is quite flexible and light on his feet.
Stealth - Again, considering what he's been doing and his magic, he needs to be stealthy in order to get the blood he requires for his rituals, and to avoid being hunted down.



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Weakness:
Limits - Because he's pushed pass a lot of his limits, he actually doesn't know his real threshold. Like an alcoholic whose tolerance increases closer and closer to the lethal amount, so to Leif has increases his tolerance in magic. He draws on so much energy that when using large spells, he could potentially use too much of his own blood or life energy and kill himself.
Felix - Though in all else he can push aside emotions, Felix is an emotional tie for Leif. The man embodies what he hates and loves. He is the only person that can push him into an irrational decision or emotional reaction.
Blood-letting - though it increases his magic, it does weaken his body and pushes him closer to the 'death threshold'. It is a fine line between giving him too much power and trying to get him to bleed to death or too weak to actually use the blood.
Rituals - when using his rituals, he's vulnerable. He can't use his magic for anything else and if he is interrupted, the ritual back lashes against him and the sigil diffuses.



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Fears:
Draining - He is afraid that he will make a mistake that will cost him his life and thus fail at his goal of releasing the other volva trapped in Vaegher.
Vaegher- He knows that if he dies, he will be trapped in the Vægher and that thought terrifies him.
Claustrophobia - He has a fear of closed spaces since there is so little room to maneuver and do anything. Being tied down would be his absolute greatest fear because then he can't use any of his magic to help himself.



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Personality:
Ambitious ღ Obsessive ღ Apathetic ღ Passionate

Before the corruption of blood magic, Leif had been a sweet gentle soul. He had a strong sense of justice and empathy for the pain of others. He was first in line to offer his aid in any way he could to ease their suffering. He was sensitive to their need and at times naive. He didn't let people walk all over him, but he gave people a lot of allowances because he cared for them and their well-being. His sense of right and wrong were sharp and the unfairness of the world grated at him until he finally came to the decision that he was going to do something about it. Leif is determined to accomplish his goals and doesn't often give up. He tries and tries and tries until he achieves his task. This at times makes him out to be single minded or obsessive. Leif was no stranger to patience and often be found researching various solutions to make sure his course of actions was the right one for himself and others.

The need to accomplish his goals and do something to change the world was no less diminished with the corruption of blood magic. It strengthened his resolve, making things possible that he would have never considered possible beforehand. Killing being an example. At first he swore blood magic would serve him well without the need to take blood from others but he soon learned that the bigger spells he needed to complete would require death. It was an emotional struggle for the kind hearted mage but with the enticement of more power to actually enact the changes he wanted led him to use rationality to make the actions justified till the continued actions numbed his emotions. Now murder doesn't make him queasy as long as it is for his greater purpose. He'd never kill just on a whim or fancy. He doesn't actually like killing, though his corruption makes it exciting. It is just something that needs to be done. As such, he does not torture his victims and goes out of his way to make the deaths quick and painless. If a spell requires someone to bleed out, he makes sure to cut the nerves so the person won't actually feel the pain or drugs them.

Leif gentleness and desire to help those around him has morphed into a determination bordering on obsession. He would spend hours researching and organizing his retaliation against the hunters that would wish the destruction of the volva. When his lover left him, he channeled his anger and pain in his task and a part of his fanatical approach stems from a desire to prove to him that he was right all along; that he was a savior, not a monster. He'll never admit it but Felix had been the last tie he had to his old self and his empathy. With Felix's betrayal Leif has learned to distrust others and aches in his loneliness. Part of the reason he first started using blood magic in the first place was because he wanted to protect the man and create a new world for him where they could be themselves without fear. Now with that bond severed, Leif had given himself up completely to the magic. Leif desperately wants to right the wrong the hunters did and set the vaettr free to pass on and destroy the organization from ever creating more hunters to start the cycle over. So wrapped up in his goal and blood magic, Leif has lost his initial empathy towards others though he does care for his people's futures. He just understand that sometimes, people need to be scarified for it. He knows what the magic is doing to him and has reasoned that if to protect the future of all volva he must forfeit his own soul to the darkness, so be it.

Leif is a cunning adversary. Cold and rational, he comes off as apathetic now. Anyone who knew him before would never recognize him as the same person. Charming and cocky, Leif instills vigor in his cause to some volva or strikes fear in the weak. To him, people have become tools and you either stand with him or feel his blade. He will stop at nothing to make his vision a reality. His growing power has given him a level of suave fearlessness, taunting the hunters to come after him and fall into the traps he's set. Leif is upfront and he will not hide his feelings, unless he's trying to trick you into his grasp. Overall he's a man that can be a powerful ally, if you do what he wants, and a dangerous foe. He doesn't forgive people for crossing him either. The only person he hasn't really tried to kill for betraying him is Felix who he does still love though he's covered it up. He does hope that Felix will see passed his magic and remember that his goals never changed though his methods have; that he hasn't completely lost himself and come back to him and help him usher the age of the volva.

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History:
Leif had a pretty average start in life. His parents were both necromancers so it was no surprise when Leif himself displayed the talents. He was rather adept at it from a young age and often made friends with the spirits he saw. They were frightening at first, but as he grew accustomed to it, it became fastening to him and he enjoyed the stories of old that many of the spirits wanted to talk about. He ended up performing séances in his family's 'hidden shop' since he was a teenager and felt a sort of fulfillment by seeing the look of sheer joy on the living and the dead when they were united one last time. He felt like he was doing something grand; he was helping both move on from the pain of the past and hopefully return to a healthy and happy life.
It was at this young age when he lost his parents. He was barely 18 when he found out his parents had a car accident and perished. He did reach out to them in a seance, hoping for the same closure he provided to others but instead of closure, he found pain. He discovered it hadn't really been accident, but a murder. The veidi madr had found out his father was a necromancer and staged it all. They didn't have proof that his mother had been a necromancer too, but she'd become a casualty just to ensure his father was killed. The veidi madr left him alone but he knew they were watching to see if he too had magic. Leif was devastated but to his family's last request, he tried not to hate the veidi madr for they were ignorant and didn't understand and did horrible things because of that ignorance.
It was in his grief that he began to interact more with the volva that had become vaettr in the Vaegher. He talked to them, heard their stories and their pain at being trapped. He could at lease ease some of the pain by giving them someone else to talk to for a time. Trying to be open minded, he talked to the veidi madr that also had gone been trapped in the Vaegher. Some were hostile towards him still and others were less so. One in particular stood out and became friend; Ivar Torrun. Ivar told him the story of how he had become a vedi madr, why he had chosen to convert. Ivar also told him how he didn't hate witches; even the one that had killed him and wished there could have been some way to change things. It helped calm the troubled teenager that not all the veidi madr hated the volva.
And a few years later, he met Felix who soon became his lover. Felix was just learning about his magical abilities and Leif was eager to teach him about magic, about his view of the world. As part of teaching the other man, he started to study more and more necromancy and discovered new abilities such as being able to see a vision of past events. Excited by the prospect, he went to the church and sat down in a secluded spot and used this new ability. And he quickly found out that sometimes, it is better to be ignorant.
There had been so much blood shed. He saw how the volva were tortured and dragged, kicking and screaming for mercy. He saw how the vedi madr killed the witches of old again and again each generation. He saw his brethren fade into Vaegher to be trapped forever along side their tormentors. This church was supposed to be symbol of a merciful god. Though he'd never believed in the Christian God, he'd read the scriptures and assumed that there had been many good qualities like Ivar Torrun explained but the blatant murder of the innocent, it tore at him. Distraught about what he'd seen, he returned to Felix for emotional support but for the life of him he couldn't get it out of his head how much death had been dished in the name of a merciful God; a deity that professed a love for the weak and provider of mercy. He started to spiral then. He talked to more of the volva trapped in the Vaegher and slowly, he resolved that he would end it. If Jesus was the human messiah, he'd be the messiah for the volva. He would end this suffering. The spirits of the passed deserved better; they deserved rest and vengeance. They deserved peace. He read everything and anything he could get his hands on about the curse and the counter-curse and what could potentially break the veil open for the dead to pass on. This led him try a small blood ritual where he bound the vaetrr Ivan to his person and allowed the spirit into the human world. The power surge had been exciting, addicting. He knew the dangers of blood magic but more and more he saw it as the only option to complete his goals.
The more he dabbled in the blood rituals, the more he and Felix fought until their bond shattered. Felix began killing animals to fuel his stronger spells and without telling Felix, Leif had set protection wards to keep them safe. And eventually, they were found by hunters and when the men attacked the little dwelling, they fell into the traps and Felix witnessed first hand how the sigals sliced through the hunters, their blood painting the grass and dirt red. Leif stood in the middle of it all, covered in the fresh blood as he renewed the marks with the fresh red ink. Though the intention had been a good one, it was the first sign that Leif was headed for a darker path. Killing would slowly come easier and already Leif's personality was changing. Felix left him, ripping Leif's world from under him. He'd thought Felix would understand that he did all of this for Felix himself, but Felix wouldn't have it, insisting on a passive role. Leif couldn't understand how Felix could just roll over for men who'd wish him dead and to a religion that condemned them for being what they were. The pain of losing the person he loved because he'd protected him left Leif to his own devices and his emotional state pushed him further into the path he'd set upon. It was the moment that 'killed' Leif and allowed him to take on a more apathetic view of the world. His hatred for the hunters grew. It was because of them he'd started it all and the reason he now found himself alone.
Ivar was the first to feel the change. Their relationship had been a friendly one up to that point, but now Leif sees him as a tool to use against the other hunters. If Ivar refuses to answer questions about the order, Leif punishes him for refusing a command, chipping away his essence. Leif now considers himself the resistance against the hunters and his goal to destroy them his only purpose. He won't rest until he's killed all the hunters and released the vaettr to return to Valhalla. If he lives long enough, he hopes to then destroy the church's control of his once proud people and return faith to its Pagan pantheon.

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Face Claims:
Ian Somerhalder
CS Design:
© By: FaddedFox ©
Played By:
By: FaddedFox

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So begins...

Leif Blakely's Story

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Lofn Byström Character Portrait: Rolf Nordskov Character Portrait: Gustav Landvik Character Portrait: Felix Henning Character Portrait: Leif Blakely Character Portrait: Tove Blakely Character Portrait: Anneka Svanhild

0.00 INK

#, as written by mjolnir
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lofn byström
vættrx|xoutfitx|x#E69C7A

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It was a day like any other day in Vægher. Night and day were no different, everything there was dark like a grey haze covered the world. Time worked differently, sometimes a year would pass by in a blink while other times it seemed as though everything was passed in slow. A fog always seemed to hover above the ground coming up to mid torso, covering Vægher in a dark cloud. Most of the Vætter that lived there allowed themselves to wither away. Their spirits becoming figures in the mist, unmoving and unchanging like transparent statues. Some even wondered past the borders of Geiranger, never to be seen again. Some believe they are the poltergeist that plague Vægher while others think they just disappear into nothingness. There was a sort of peace in that... Nothingness.

Lofn wasn't like that. Her light and optimism wasn't necessarily contagious, but magnetic. She was without a doubt one of the eldest Vætter, most having opted for nothingness or complacency rather than living... If you can call it that. Often times some of the Vætter flocked to her looking to her for reassurance and hope. She never minded helping them or being a shoulder for any of them. But she also needed the silence. It was only a handful of spirits that Lofn told of her quiet place. It was on the edge of the fjord, more of a swamp inside Vægher. It was more mud than water, that bubbled and probably would smell if she could smell. But there was a cliff that over looked it all... And from that high up she could almost imagine that she was back in Geiranger. That a stormed had rolled in, covering the valley in fog and darkness.

A couple walked slowly up towards the cliff, hand in hand. Leo and Karin Henning had hung around in Vægher long enough to know the place well, and with little else to do besides wait for their son to contact them, they'd taken to spending their time by walking all around Vægher, testing its boundaries. This day they were up on the cliff again, staring out over where the sea would be in Geiranger. The fog covered everything as always, blocking out the view they missed so dearly.

Leo caught sight of Lofn ducking into her quiet place, and he tugged on Karin's hand, pointing wordlessly at the spot where one could enter Lofn's secret place from, if they knew where to look. Glad to see a friendly face, Karin nodded, and together they headed towards the rock.

The wind began to blow, rustling the branches of the dead trees. Lofn closed her eyes feeling it move through her hair and rustle her dress. She could almost forget she was in Vægher and imagine herself on the side of the fjord in Geiranger, watching as the fishermen came and left the ports. It was funny how some memories could be so fresh like they happened yesterday... Yet the image of Freja's face seemed to fade more and more as the days chipped onward. She moved closer to the edge and leaned down, picking up a rock. Then Lofn threw it as far as she could, wishing she'd hear it skip in the water below but instead it disappeared in the muck of the swamp. As she looked around at the world below, she noticed a couple walking hand in hand, heading toward the path that lead up to the cliff.

Lofn smiled slightly, as she made her way to the path, deciding the steep and narrow hill. Her hands held onto leafless dead trees and her skirt stepping in each divet by memory. Halfway down, she reached the couple. Lofn offered them her hands and helped them ascend the tricky hill to the top of the cliff. She lead them over to a small opening with a few rocks that were well suited as chairs. She took a seat and offered the couple to sit with her. With a smile, she greeted them. "How are you both doing?"

"We're fine as usual, Lofn dear," Karin assured her with a smile, any resentment at her situation long burned away. It was how it was, and she and Leo just had to put up with it. "Just waiting for Felix," Leo added, his arm around Karin's shoulders. He had taken to Vægher less easily.

Karin gazed at Lofn fondly. It was still hard for her to believe, sometimes, that she was one of the oldest Vætter around. She still looked so young, like any of the children that she and Leo used to treat when they were alive. There were younger ones in Vægher, sure, but few of them were as gentle and loving as Lofn, and it broke her heart.

Lofn smiled warmly, extending her hand out to take Karin's in a kind and reassuring manner. "I'm glad you are well." She was glad the couple seemed to hold strong to their kindness that they had before they came to Vægher. Not everyone was so kind. She understood their worry for their son, Lofn witnessed the same concern consume her sister. "I understand it's hard, not being able to see him when you wish. I know you're worried for him with the veiði-maðr..." Her voice trailed off as her gaze fell. She allowed her thumb to gently stroke Karin's hand in comfort. "Would you like me to go visit him? See how he is doing?"

She never usually offered to do such things, because once one Vætter knew she could communicate with the living... They'd all know and Lofn would always be keeping tasks on everyone's loved ones. She wished she was capable of that, but she was only one person. But Karin and Leo weren't like the others, they respected Lofn's privacy and space. They never told anyone where to find her, nor put unneeded burden on her. It's been several months since the first time Lofn began keeping an eye on Felix... They never asked and she didn't mind offering. "If it would put your mind at ease, I do not mind going to see him."

Karin's breath hitched. After everything he'd been through, she couldn't fault Felix for withdrawing the way he had, but without a supportive network - the same network she and Leo had lacked, incidentally, that probably contributed to their death - it hurt her to see him so lonely and angry. "If you could just take a look at him every now and then, love, just to see how he's doing when he isn't talking to us... that would be great. Just make sure he's not getting into any trouble, you know?" Leo nodded, adding, "Only if you want to. We know the living world is exhausting, we just want to know he's safe." He paused, unsure how to proceed. There was hardly any way for him to repay her kindness. "Thank you for asking, Lofn. It really means a lot to us. There's so much we can't do here... We're so helpless, and Felix is so alone."

"It really is no problem, I assure you," Lofn replied to the worried couple. It wasn't much, but anything she could do to keep some of the vætter at peace was payment enough. It was a hard life, if you could call it that, in the Vægher. But it wasn't any better for the völva still left to live their lives in fear of the hunters, only to be locked here with the rest of them upon their death. She didn't know what help she could be to Felix, but stopping by every so often to make sure he is ok was the least she could do.

After exchanging a bit more with Karin and Leo, Lofn moved to her feet and bid the couple farewell. "Feel free to stay here. It's on of the few places not overwhelmed with Vætter. I'll come find you later after checking in on your son." She gave them both a reassuring hug, then descended down the path. Lofn had been a Vætter so long that the only thing that seemed to keep her from insanity was learning who all lived in Geiranger. Not that it was that difficult with such a small village, but it was just about the only thing she could do. So, she already knew where to find Felix, considering the völva rarely went anywhere other than his home on the outskirts of the town.

Being a medium in the Vægher was rare and a strange thing for Lofn to get used to. Not only was she surrounded by the other spirits, but the figures of the living wondered about like wisps. She could see their silhouettes like they were the ghosts. It could be quite overwhelming trying comprehend the dead and the living. Luckily, Felix lived farther out. He wasn't surrounded by a residual cloud of spirits that Lofn would have to sift through and there also was rarely other living people there as well. It'd be difficult to try and communicate with someone while surrounded by other Vætter... She'd have a queue of people wanting her to check on their families faster than she could say hello.

Lofn slowly made her way onto Felix's property being sure to take her time and walk out in the open. It had been such a long time since she was alive herself that she has forgotten what spirits look like to living mediums and she didn't want to startle or frighten him. She walked around the house until she found the young man in his garden. She only approached when she knew that she was in his line of sight, hopefully. Lofn lifted up the hem of her dress slightly as she squatted down and pointed at the plants. She couldn't make them out, only feintly seeing an outline. Objects never come through as strong as the living. "What are those?" she asked softly, trying not to startle him. A friendly smile crossed her lips as she looked toward him.




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rolf nordskov
veiði-maðrx|xvölvax|xoutfitx|x#8BA3A6

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Rolf stood, frozen like a statue in the middle of their small Geiranger home. The light was drained from the room like a storm cloud blocked out the sun. His feet were cemented to the ground and when he parted his lips to speak nothing happened. Everything was void of sound, moving in a slow haze. He watched as Anton's oppressive form stepped toward his mother. His Step Father felt taller and more intimidating, almost too big to fit in the room. He raised his hand, balling his fist and struck Rolf's mother. The room began to spin as she fell to the ground and Rolf's vision faded to black.

When his eyes opened, the room was painted in a rorschach of red. The color faded from everything leaving the world a stark black and white with the glaring crimson daunting him. His fists clenched as they tried to stop the trembling that slowly worked its way up his arms. The high pitch screech of white noise blared in his ears as his mother ran to him. Her hands grasped his shoulders, trying to shake the shock and fear out of him. Rolf didn't move, the air knocked from his chest as he stared blankely at her face. She was shouting inaudibly, not out of anger but fear as tears filled her eyes. When they began to roll down her cheeks it trailed the blood along with it like a river along her porcelain skin.

He didn't notice when his mother walked away nor when she returned with a damp cloth. She quickly began to wipe the blood from his hands. As she worked, Rolf's head slowly rolled to the side and his gaze fixed on the spot on the floor. There was no sign of Anton. It was like a human grenade detonated at the epicenter of the room. There, in the center, was where the largest pieces were, most no bigger than a strawberry along with a single unharmed eyeball. Rolf could feel his heart quicken in his chest, causing him to start gasping for air while his gaze darted about the room. Everything was red and it flooded his vision, causing his stomach to tighten and knot. Then his eyes rolled back in his head as Rolf fell backwards, stiff like a board. It seemed as though a lifetime passed as he fell.

His unconscious body slammed onto the ground, shaking his entire frame, which startled him awake. Rolf sat up abruptly in his bed, his shirtless torso covered in a cold sweat as his chest heaved from his heavy breaths. He raised his hands to rub his face, before brushing his damp locks back from his face. He hadn't been able to get a single night's sleep since the incident. It plagued his mind constantly. Not because he murdered or killed... That was nothing new to him, being a veiði-maðr killing was part of the job. The frightening part was the truth. The hidden truth that had been stirring within him his entire life.

Rolf threw his blankets off of him before standing up and heading to the door. Halfway across his room, he stopped mid-step when he finally glanced up. His room was already a mess and half destroyed, only getting worse with each nightmare. When he felt a cool breeze on his back, he looked toward the window seeing the broken glass on the ground beneath it. He sighed, turning his back to the window and went to exit his room. As he grabbed the doorknob, his bedroom door fell from the hinges, toppling forward out into the hallway with a loud slam.

Before he could pick it up and try to make up an excuse, his mother was there and out of breath. "Rolf!?" She sighed out of relief seeing that he was fine. For a long quiet moment, she stood there taking in the sight of the door on the ground, her disheveled son and his expression. "Did you have another nightmare?" she asked as she stepped toward him, extending her hand to try and brush back his long hair.

Rolf turned his head away from her reach. He bent over and picked up the door, then leaned it against the wall in the hall. "Just underestimated my own strength,"
he lied, not making eye contact.

"Rolf..." she said quietly, taking hold of his arm before he could walk away. "Ignoring this won't make it go away. You need help controlling this... Nearly half of the windows and mirrors shattered. Sooner or later our lies will become transparent."

He glanced back over his shoulder at his mother. Rolf's eyes were clouded in darkness from the weight of the truth and his lack of sleep. "And who would help me? The völva would rather kill me on sight than help me. And if I did find one that would help... Gustav wouldn't be far behind with a cruel death for the both of us." His gaze fell to the ground, as he slipped his arm from his mother's grasp. "I'm a dead man either way. If you were smart you'd leave Geiranger before I get you killed too," he concluded as he walked into the bathroom and closed the door behind him.

Rolf spent nearly an hour standing under the steaming hot shower trying to melt away the stress. All the while as he showered, groomed his facial hair and dressed he couldn't fight the overwhelming thoughts and memories that consumed him. He didn't miss Anton, if anything he was happy to see the man dead. But Rolf was not a liar. He was always an honest and loyal man... Everything he grew up believing had been turned on its head as he tried to get a grasp on his new reality. He felt like a zombie, moving through the motions but void of emotions, thoughts or feelings. He was a dead man and the longer he kept up the ruse, the more painful his death would be.

His hands trembled uncontrollably as he buttoned up his dress shirt and tucked it into his pants. He tried to steady his breathing as he put the tie around his neck. When he looked up to watch his reflection as he tried to tie it, he sighed out of frustration seeing the mirror was shattered. Rolf closed his eyes as his hands grasped the edges of the porcelain sink, trying to calm himself down as he felt the emotions and powers stirring inside him.

"Rolf?" His mother's soft voice spoke sheepishly as she cracked the bathroom door and peaked her head inside.

With his attention sidetracked, Rolf's little bit of control quickly dissipated. The magic surged out from his hands like a wave and the porcelain sink cracked beneath his hands. His eyes widened as he withdrew his hands, staring down at his empty palms with fear in his eyes.

His mother was there in a blink, taking his hands in hers. "Hey? Hey?" she said calmly.

Rolf tried to pull his hands from her grasp, but she held tight to them. Tears filled his eyes as the true and utter fear overwhelmed him. "No, mamma. I don't want to hurt you."

She raised her right hand to gently cup Rolf's cheek and wipe away a tear. Her smile was warm and comforting... and stubborn. As she took the ends of his necktie and began to tie it for him, she spoke quietly but honestly. "You'd never hurt me. I know that in my heart... And I will not leave you, no matter how much you push me away." Her hands tightened the tie and then smoothed it down against his shirt. "I won't let you carry this burden alone, my love."

"I can't do this..."

His mother wrapped her arms around him in a comforting hug. "You don't have to pretend to be sad... And you don't have to say anything. I will protect you." She lightly kissed him on the cheek. "I promise."

Luckily for Rolf, he didn't have to pretend to feel something he didn't for the late Anton. He looked miserable. It was evident all over his face that he hadn't slept in days and even in conversation he looked like he was miles away. Rolf was a ghost... A shell, that nodded his head and smiled when it was expected of him. Others would see it as grieving and even though that wasn't the truth, it was believable. Lying was always easier when some amount of the emotions behind it were true. They might be for a different reason but it all manifests in the same way.

When Rolf and his mother arrived at the funeral home, it was still empty aside from the mortician. While his mother went over to double check the plans for the funeral, Rolf beelined for the coffin that sat on the alter at the far end of the room. One half of it was propped open, but there was no corpse because... there was nothing left to bury. Instead, a picture of Anton was propped up inside. He could barely look at the portrait, feeling as though the eyess were staring back at him like he was waiting to tell all of Rolf's secrets. He nearly jumped out of his skin when he felt his mother's gentle hand on his shoulder. "He doesn't deserve a coffin... or a memorial," he whispered while staring at the picture.

"Hush now," his mother scolded under her breath before turning him to face her. Her hands adjusted his suit and attempted to smooth some of the wrinkles as she spoke. "Be careful what you say outside of the house, even around me. Just shake their hands and thank them for their condolences... It'll be over soon."

Rolf nodded his head and moved to stand beside his mother on the alter next to the coffin. He cupped his hands before him, while she hooked her hand in the bend of his arm as they waited for the veiði-maðr to arrive.




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tove blakely
völvax|xoutfitx|x#9D89A8

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Tove had been at the family's shop since the early morning like she did on most days. She took it upon herself to try and run it while Leif went off and did whatever he did most days. Depending on the day of the week, the shop was usually pretty slow... Unless there were tourists in town who always seemed to think it was an occult store. You know, all for show. They could think whatever they wanted. Tove didn't care if they accidentally cursed themselves. It wasn't her problem once she had their money. After all, there was a very strict no return policy. So, if the stupid Americans want to buy a book of spells and fuck around with ouija boards, then by all means. Maybe they would take some veiði-maðr along with them.

Most days a hunter would wonder into the shop "incognito" posing as a tourist, as if she didn't know any better. They never fouled her, but Tove played the game. She was good at that. After all everyone whispered that she was a witch, and that was intentional. It's the secretive people who arouse suspicion with the hunters. But people like herself who scream witch... Usually are seen as purveyors of the occult. She wasn't scared of them. And if one of the hunters that "sneakily" found their way into her shop tried some funny business with her? Well, Tove had more than a few hex bags ready for them to place a nice curse on the idiot. So, she wasn't worried.

It had been an exceedingly quiet day in Geiranger that particular day, and she knew why. It was the hunter's funeral. It seemed as though the entire village was holding their breath. Not a week back a völva snuck into a house of a veiði-maðr and decimated the man. Not that he didn't deserve it. But, it was unheard of... A witch being the hunter, seeking out the prey and killing them where they slept. Tove was cold but not that cold. She had no idea which völva had done the deed, and asking around wouldn't find any answer either. Part of her, when she heard the news, thought it might have been Leif. She asked him about it and he denied it. And one thing Leif would never do to her is lie. But the prospect of who it really was plagued her mind for quite some time.

Since the shop was empty, Tove took the time to do her own research. She walked around the shop grabbing book after book until she had a stack in her arms that nearly reached her chin. After setting them down on the table at the center of the shop, she then gather candles, herbs and other ingredients that she might need. She then sat herself down and began to go through the books page by page, searching for a way to uncover the mystery völva. Tove had always been well versed in spells and enchantments, but a location spell or something of revelation isn't in her tool belt. As far as Geiranger went, there never really was much of a need to try and divulge the identity of someone. With such a small village, whispers spread quickly and through those whispers a culprit could be found quickly. A week with no answer is unusual in a village like this.

After Tove finished skimming through the first book, she paused. Although it was highly unlikely a hunter would come waltzing into her shop on the day of a funeral, she still felt the need to be prepared. After all, she was sitting out in the open with enough evidence to prove her guilty. Yes, it was an occult store. But selling it was one thing, sitting down and practicing it was death worthy. She had noticed that whenever a hunter died, it seemed that for an entire day the veiði-maðr shut down. They didn't seem the type to spend much time on mourning, instead taking an entire day to grieve, celebrate the hunter's life and move on. Tove would bet that grief was a weakness in their eyes and weakness was not. So, better to allow for a single day to get it out instead of removing half of their numbers due to bottling their emotions.

Whatever it was... Tove didn't understand those uptight fuckers. She'd like to see one of them stumble in here on their 'day of grieving.' With a mortar and pestle she grinded some particular ingredients together, preparing a simple but effective concoction. It took her a couple years to prefect it, but at a young age she loved using it on Leif for a little prank every so often. The powdery substance was lavendar in color and shimmered in the light. If someone unwelcome came in, a handful blown in their face would knock them out for a solid hour at least. Now feeling a bit more prepared, Tove kicked off her boots and crossed her legs underneath her. She dug out her glasses and got to reading, determined to figure out who this völva was.




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gustav landvik
veiði-maðrx|xoutfitx|x#9B937E

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Gustav remained in bed when he woke up, reluctant to face the day. Instead he rolled over, draping his arm over Anneka. He gently pulled the blonde closer to him, nuzzling his face into the curve of the back of her neck. After another 5 minutes of lying there, he groaned and sat up. He brought his hands to his face rubbing the sleep and weariness from them. He gently reached over and brushed her blonde hair from her shoulder and leaned down to kiss the soft skin. "We need to get up. The funeral is today." He sighed, followed by a yawn as he pulled the covers off of him and swung his legs off the bed. Gustav waited there for a moment, rubbing his neck as he stretched.

It had been such a long time since they're last funeral. At least three months, which is a long time for the veiði-maðr. No one ever liked funerals, after all who would. Burying someone you were close to is hard, but putting them to rest is necessary. The veiði-maðr are only allotted a 24 hour grieving period to clear their system of the pain and then move on. It was a weakness none of them could afford to hold onto. That meant a day of mourning, crying and condolences, then drinking and celebrating their life. This time was different. Anton was a pivotal member of the veiði-maðr and closest friend to Gustav's own father. Not only that, he was the father of their best and most skilled tracker, Rolf. Gustave worried how this would affect him. No one compared to his skill, and terminating veiði-maðr was never the best option at a sign of weakness. It only weakened their own ranks in the process.

After another yawn, Gustav pushed off his bent knees and stood up. He shuffled his way to the bathroom and into the shower. He didn't waste much time cleaning up in case Anneka needed it more than he did. Once finished, he walked around the apartment with a towel around his waist, going to start up a pot of coffee. As it brewed, Gustav leaned back against the counter running through the facts about Anton's murder. He was itching to get out there in Geiranger and hunt down the piece of shit völva that killed one of their own. For centuries they stayed in hiding, avoiding being caught by the veiði-maðr. But now, one of them has grown a pair. They sought out Anton and his family, and turned him into wall paint. Rolf and Eva were lucky not to be causalities in the attack. If they were also home, then who knows the level of destruction the witch could have caused with more people present

Gustav groaned, trying not to dwell on it as he made two cups of coffee. He then walked his way back to the bedroom and sat down beside Anneka. "Here you go." He handed her one of the cups of coffee that he made the way she likes it. After drinking most of his own cup, he got up and proceeded to get dressed. Once he was ready, he left the bedroom to give Anneka plenty of room to get ready and took a seat out in the living room. Sprawled out along the coffee table was dozens of pictures of the incident. He sighed, leaning back in the couch as he flipped through the images for hundredth time trying to see what he might have missed. But nothing. The person was thorough... And the only thing that was for certain was that the killer was a völva.

Once Anneka was ready, he followed her out of the apartment. Gustav then offered her his arm as they walked to the funeral home. Of course, the two of them were the first to arrive aside from Eva and Rolf. After all, it was Gustav's duty to be there first and also be the last to leave. He was the leader, he had to be respectful and supportive to prove himself worthy of his title. He held the door open, allowing Anneka to go in first and followed behind her. Once inside, he made his way over to Eva, giving his best attempt at a compassionate smile. "I am so sorry for your loss Mrs. Nordskov. Anton was a great man and hunter. He will truly be missed." Gustav gently held her shoulders as he gave her a kiss upon the cheek. "If there is ever anything you need. Please do not hesitate to contact myself or Anneka."

Gustav then moved over to Rolf, offering him his right hand. Once they shook, he then brought the dark haired male for a one armed hug. "We will find out who did this. They will suffer more than any völva ever has before in Geiranger," he whispered only low enough for the other male to hear. "I promise you that." As he stepped back, he patted Rolf's arm and gave a sympathetic smile. "Stay strong."

"Thanks man," was all that Rolf could say, attempting his more sincere and thankful smile.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Lofn Byström Character Portrait: Rolf Nordskov Character Portrait: Gustav Landvik Character Portrait: Livia Landon Character Portrait: Lucia Hall Character Portrait: Felix Henning Character Portrait: Leif Blakely Character Portrait: Ivar Torrun Character Portrait: Tove Blakely Character Portrait: Anneka Svanhild

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Anneka Svanhild
veidi madr| #9A32CD| outfit
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Raging fire, greedily lapping at everything Anneka held dear. Consuming, razing, contorting. She could hear the screams of her family as they burned in the hell she'd unleashed with her own hands. Then the cackling laughter as her sister dropped to the ground, blood seeping and staining the grass she'd used to play in. Her lips bubbled as she tried to say something, hand reaching for Anneka. Then, that form, shadowed by the flames. 'Don't forget me, little Anneka,' the words echoed. Then he was gone, leaving Anneka alone in a world of fire and screams.

Anneka gasped, her body tensing when Gustav called her to wake, his kiss feeling like a searing blade in the moment. She swallowed hard and glanced back at him as he moved away to get ready for the day, then at the clock beside her. She swallowed dryly and slowly sat up, a hand running through her tangled locks. She reached her free hand up to her chest trying to calm the fluttering. She shook her head and watched her lover move about the room before vanishing into the shower before she got up and went to the file that contained the details of the gruesome death of Rolf's father. The scene held in the pictures must have jogged her own memory. She hadn't had that dream in ages. But her experience and now Rolf's pointed to one thing.

These volva were getting more aggressive.

What was fueling them? Usually the volva tried to hide and stay unnoticed but lately they were going on the offensive. Was one volva leading others? Were these just random flukes? What gave this new generation of volva the balls they needed to attack not just one veidi madr, but the home of a veidi madr? And did this incident involve only one volva as had been the case of her family's murder? Why couldn't they find an inkling of a clue as to who the volva was? There had been no trace. They needed to do something about this. But not today. Today was for grieving, not working. She needed to be there for Rolf and his mother. She understood the pain of losing loved ones and nothing really lessened the pain, but being a shoulder of support was the least she could do.

She set the folder down when Gustav emerged from the bathroom and quickly went about getting herself ready for the day. She thanked Gustav for the coffee and drank it quickly so they could get going. They needed to be there before the others began piling in. Once in the funeral reception area, her heart squeezed in empathy for the little family beside the casket. She let Gustav give his condolences first before she approached Mrs. Nordskov with a bouquet of flowers she'd brought along. She offered her a hug as well.

"You have my greatest condolences, Mrs. Nordskov. I am so sorry for your loss. I know no words can really make it better, but I want you to know we are here for you in this hard time." She sighed and turned to Rolf then and sighed softly. Just as Gustav had done, she reached out to give him a hand shake which turned into a brotherly bump of their shoulders and a brief hug. "Rolf, I am so sorry about your loss. As I said to your mother, if you need anything, you let me know. I'll be there to help you in any way I can. Even if it is just to talk a little." She wasn't the most qualified of the group to talk feelings, but for a situation like this and for Rolf, she would do her best to be a listening ear.

With that said, she left a second set of flowers next to the casket and moved away, hanging at the edges of the funeral party to observe. She didn't want to interfere, and she was a natural watcher. It came with the territory of being a sniper. She was used to watching people, marking them. Towards the end of the service, her eyes fell on a young woman she was not familiar with. Her eyes narrowed. Who was she? He looked her up and down and tensed. Strangers were dangers after all. Could this be a volva intent on devastating the veidi madr ranks right here? She watched her approach Rolf and his mother and leaned closer to Gustav. "That girl talking to Rolf and his mother, do you know who she is?" she asked.





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Ivar Torrun
vaettr| #008B8B| outfit
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Ivar, like always, found his way to the church in his wanderings in Vaegher. It looked nothing like the glorious church of his memory. The great cathedral had changed over time so that even in the world of the living it had changed, but in the dark fog of Vaegher, it felt empty. It was a skeleton of its beauty. Ivar couldn't see the great paintings that adorned the walls. It felt like an abandoned graveyard rather than a place that housed the Holy Spirit, but it was the closest thing to the church and to God that Ivar had to seek out in the dark and dismal space. He'd spent so much time at the church towards the end of his life and now in this strange after life that every structure and crack was familiar to him and he could walk it blind.

It had been a long while since Leif had released him to return to Vaegher for a bit and oddly, he was happy to be back here. It was dark, misty, and raining, but being here meant he wasn't helping Leif murder and plot. Part of him felt bad for Leif. He remembered when the volva had been younger and curious about everything. He so desperately wanted to help the vaettr that were trapped here. He'd been a good kid, but the course of his life had turned haunted. He had good intentions but his path had diverged from the light so long ago now. Evil was paved with good intentions, as the saying went. It did make Ivar wonder about his own actions when he'd been living. Had the end justified the means? Hadn't he done a similar thing that Leif was doing now? The line between right and wrong were murky and he hated that once again the clear path before him had turned to a jungle.

Ivar shook his head and pushed back the black cape he wore with the red cross as he took a knee in front of the church's altar. He bowed his head and folded his hands as he began to pray.

“Have mercy on me, O God,
according to Your unfailing love;
according to Your great compassion
blot out my transgressions.
Wash away all my iniquity
and cleanse me from my sin.
For I know my transgressions,
and my sin is always before me.
Against You, You only, have I sinned
and done what is evil in Your sight,
so that You are proved right when You speak
and justified when You judge.
Surely I have been a sinner from birth,
sinful from the time my mother conceived me…
Cleanse me with hyssop, and I will be clean;
wash me and I will be whiter than snow…
Create in me a pure heart, O God,
and renew a steadfast spirit within me.
Do not cast me from Your presence
or take Your Holy Spirit from me.
Restore to me the joy of Your salvation
and grant me a willing spirit to sustain me.
Then will I teach transgressors Your ways,
and sinners will turn back to You.

God, please forgive me for my continued transgressions against your will, as I know that as I am tied to Leif, he will have me continue down this sinner's path. And forgive him too. Help me help him see the error of what he is doing, that he is not saving anyone this way. Lend me your strength. Amen."


With his prayer said, he stood and took a seat and just stared at the empty space. Could the Heavenly Father even hear his prayers in this strange after world? Ivar sighed and closed his eyes, content on just being here. The quiet pitter-patter of the rain was calming and in a way rejuvenating. He wasn't sure how long he stayed there, since time in Vaeghar often felt like seconds and days. There was no night or day so telling time was really impossible. At length, he picked himself up and wondered if Lofn was around. He wouldn't call the volva vaettr a friend per say, but they often had debated and interesting discussions and perhaps she'd give him some insight in how to approach Leif again. Unfortunately for him, Leif had other plans.

"Ivar Torrun, I call you back to me." The words seemed to echo in Ivar's mind and winced as the mark on his chest blazed with its own fire, brightening and making Vaeghar look even more bleak with its grey pallet. Ivar reached up to touch the burning sigil and tried to resist it but it only burned bright, forcing Ivar to his knees. In seconds, his form faded from Vaeghar until he appeared before his master, the color of the world brightening beneath him. And so the cycle began again. Ivar got to his feet and dusted off before he looked over at Leif.

"You called?" Ivar asked dryly.






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Leif Blakely
volva| #8C1717| outfit
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Funeral day. What better time to work some magic, than a day to celebrate the dead? And not just any dead person, but a veidi madr. Leif couldn't think of a better way to honor the hunter than to use blood magic out in the open. These days didn't happen as often as they should and it usually meant the hunters wouldn't be prowling around looking for witches like himself. He'd been thrilled to find out that someone had killed the hunter, but he was a bit miffed that it hadn't been by his hand. He'd actually found out about the murder from his sister when she'd approached asking him if he'd done it. Whoever did it, needed to be praised and he wished he knew where to find the volva and embrace him. Or her. Whichever. Maybe he could ask them to join his budding 'order' to go up against the veidi madr. If the volva could just organize themselves under one banner and one leader like the veidi madr did, they'd be unstoppable. They'd have a force to finally rid the world of the veidi madr, but most vola he'd met were too scared to make any sort of move. Understandable to a point, but infuriating.

As always, his thoughts turned to Felix. He was one such volva who was too scared to actually do anything with his gifts. He was content to just live alone and die alone, only to be stuck in Vaegher regardless of the world's events. Well, fine. He'd show Felix that he would usher a new age, an age for the volva and finally break the curse that had settled on both the veidi madr and volva. All the spirits would finally be free of the gloom. Then maybe Felix would finally understand why he did all this, how much he was trying to save through his actions. Then Felix wouldn't have to be afraid.

"Focus, Leif, focus," he chided himself. He sighed and wiped his brow from the sweat that had gathered and sat back on his heels to look at his handy work. Before him was a large sigil, glowing red slightly and pulsing with its fresh application. The glow would fade momentarily as it entrenched itself into the dirt. He held a bowl of blood and there were several animals he'd drained to make the concoction that he now had to get rid of, but he was pleased. He'd gone about renewing the traps he'd laid out. Townspeople didn't often leave town and even fewer ventured far enough into the forest to reach the edge of the cliff that over looked the ocean, but on occasion he'd spotted veidi madr prowling about. Well, the next time one of those hunters walked here, they'd find a watery grave. He took out his special cloth and wiped up the blood on his hands and checked himself to ensure he didn't see any splotches of blood he'd missed. And this was why he always wore black. Black made blood hard to see, just in case he did miss something.

Leif cleaned out his bowl, being extra careful then to diffuse the magic that gathered in the blood and scrubbed it with the special sand his sister bought for him. He repeated the process with his ceremonial knife and tucked his tools away. He may like to play 'tag' and coast the line between saying he was a witch and acting upon it, but he wasn't stupid. He wasn't going to blatantly flaunt his utensils. Hunters weren't stupid and they would suspect something if they saw these tools on him. He put on gloves then and picked up the small dead animals and hurled them into the ocean. Even if the animals were found, he never touched them with his bare hands so the police or the hunters would never be able to find his DNA on them. With the clean up complete, he turned his attention elsewhere. Felix. Again. He really needed a new hobby, but he still worried about the volva. Felix was alone in the wilderness. He never saw him in town and so he had no way to know if the volva was still alive or sick or in need of help. Well, that's why he had Ivar, didn't he? Well, one of the minor purposes anyway.

The blood witch moved away from his trap to get some magical distance before he centered his mind and called the spirit to himself. It took just a touch longer than usual but soon, Ivar appeared kneeling in front of him. As always when he first summoned the spirits into the real world, Ivar looked like he existed in the land of the living. He wasn't transparent and anyone could touch Ivar though he'd be cold. The only thing that gave him away was the dead look in his eyes.

"You called?" Ivar answered him as he stood.

"Aw, you're cross with me. Were you praying again? You were, weren't you?"

"I was. Thankfully you didn't interrupt this time."

"I don't understand how you pray and keep your faith considering what you've seen and done. He won't save you. Regardless, were you mourning the veidi madr too?"

Leif was rewarded when Ivar's eyes widened and the dead crusader looked up at him. "A veidi madr died?"

"Yes. The funeral is today. Considering you were in Vaeghar, I am surprised you didn't know. Before you ask, no, it wasn't me. Regardless, I called you back because I want you to check on Felix."

Ivar sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "Why don't you check on him yourself? You should talk to him." Maybe the other peaceful volva could find a way to deter Leif from all this death.

"He refuses to speak with me, or have you forgotten the last time he rebuffed me? He knows you are tied to me but he seems less averse to your presence than to mine, though why, I have no idea. Save your energy though. You can appear as just a spirit there. He'll still be able to sense and communicate with you considering his abilities. Then report back to me."

Ivar gave a nod as he vanished and reappeared as a ghost on Felix's property. Perhaps he could convince Felix to talk to Leif. Something had to change if he was going to stop Leif. He knew that if he didn't, Leif was going to cause chaos and bring death to so many people and in the end, Leif too would perish. He did not think the blood witch would survive long before he went mad and used too much magic and shredded his soul beyond the ability to repent.

As a ghost, the life around Ivar was blurred and details lost to him. It was a fog, but he could find Felix easily enough. As he approached, he stopped beside the house a bit surprised to see another spirit there. Unlike the rest of the world, she, he could see clearly, since they currently resided on the same plain. Lofn. What was she doing here? Had Felix called her?

Leif on the other hand returned home once Ivar had vanished. "I am home," he sang as he walked into his family's shop. He was surprised to see Lucia beside his sister, though he shouldn't have been. Lucia was often around his sister to the point Leif almost fancied her a little sister. "Well hello little firecracker. What are the two of you up to?" he mused as he walked over to them and draped his arms around the two.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Lofn Byström Character Portrait: Rolf Nordskov Character Portrait: Gustav Landvik Character Portrait: Livia Landon Character Portrait: Lucia Hall Character Portrait: Felix Henning Character Portrait: Leif Blakely Character Portrait: Ivar Torrun Character Portrait: Tove Blakely Character Portrait: Anneka Svanhild

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#, as written by mjolnir
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lofn byström
vættrx|xoutfitx|x#E69C7A

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Brown hair rustled upon Felix’s head as he slowly looked up to meet her gaze. Lofn gave a soft smile. He was far more pronounced than the rest of Geiranger that glimmered through. Everything about the real world seemed to fade away when she was only surrounded by other Vætter. But in the presence of the living it seemed to shine through at the right angles like the way a rainbow is only visible in certain places. Everything made feint outlines, a mist of the world populating the emptiness of her purgatory.

But Felix was clear as day. It was like the völva’s powers combined with her own, removing the static to bring forth a clear image. It was easy for Lofn to forget he wasn’t real. There have been more than a few occasions where she made the mistake of trying to touch him. It’d make her fingers tingle like goose bumps from a cool breeze, but her hand would still pass through him. She could remain positive most of the time but the sinking feeling the weighed down her stomach when what she thought was real reminded her of the truth. Lofn tried not to do that anymore… It was something small, but it hurt.

"Spinach,” he replied to her inquiry, pointing to something she couldn’t see. But none the less, Lofn smiled nodding her head. Spinach. She used to love that as a girl. But she couldn’t even try to remember the taste. A soft sigh escaped her lips at the thought, but she didn’t let the struggle show on her face as Felix continued to speak toward her. "I was going to try making spinach flour, maybe cut some noodles from them, but the slugs got to them before I could.”

Lofn tilted her head slightly. ”Ground beetles kill slugs… And toads,” she suggested. Those were the methods she remembered her mother using. Of course, who knew what ways could be used now. But at least with the living creatures it worked more in the natural order of life. Nothing foreign or inhumane.

Felix shifted his weight and tilted his head toward her, asking in his more usual cold manner, "What are you doing here, Lofn?”

Her hands fell to rest in her lap. The tone of her voice was still gentle, not off put by his brashness. ”There’s a new soul… Here, in the Vægher. A hunter,” her voice trailed off, giving a moment’s pause before continuing. ”He’s a brash soul, complaining about how he was killed by a völva. Things are different. More souls keep showing up, but this was the first veiði-maðr in awhile. Everyone is on edge… Including your parents.” Lofn raised a hand to brush back her locks but continued to hold his gaze. ”I offered to come check on you… to put them at ease,” she whispered softly.

Even just in Felix’s presence, she felt the need to remain hushed about the favors she does, the knowledge she knows and her ability to communicate freely with him. They never knew who could be listening… in Geiranger or Vægher. ”Do you have any idea what’s going on? Who killed the hunter?” Chances were he didn’t know, but Lofn still felt the need to ask.

After a long moment, she extended her hand toward him letting it hover just above his. ”You should be careful… Leave Geiranger before—“ she paused mid sentence when something told her they weren’t alone. Ever since her time in the Vægher the magical energy made everything different than in the real world. Lofn’s soul could almost feel the aura of another like a soft breeze or light smell. She couldn’t decipher who it was but she knew someone was there.

Lofn pushed her hands off her knees and stood up, glancing around for whomever joined them. ”We’re not alone,” she spoke only loud enough for Felix to hear her. Slowly she stepped forward in what felt like the right direction until she saw him, standing beside the house. ”Ivar?” she called out toward the Vætter, her tone curious as to what he was doing there. Did he follow her? It wasn’t like spirits just stumbled upon this place.




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rolf nordskov
veiði-maðrx|xvölvax|xoutfitx|x#8BA3A6

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Rolf had a hard time keeping a straight face while Gustav gave them his condolences and compassion, or as much compassion as the man could show. He never knew his leader to be much for sentiment or compassion. Gustav always seemed to have a one track mind when it came to hunting völva, and a death like Anton’s would only give someone like him more fire to burn under the other hunters. Rolf didn’t believe much of what he said, aside from the ’will suffer more than any völva ever has before in Geiranger.’ That he believed with every fiber in his being and it sent chills down his spine.

He was pulled from his own thoughts when Anneka stepped forward, handing his mother a bouquet of flowers and a caring hug. Unlike Gustav, Rolf believed every word she said. She was a woman of her word, honest and loyal. He never quite understood what she saw in Gustav, but that wasn’t his place. "You have my greatest condolences, Mrs. Nordskov. I am so sorry for your loss. I know no words can really make it better, but I want you to know we are here for you in this hard time.”

”Thank you, sweet girl,” Eva replied with a weak smile while brushing a strand of Anneka’s hair from her face.

The blonde then turned to Rolf, taking his hand in a shake which grew to a gentle shoulder bump and a brief hug. "Rolf, I am so sorry about your loss. As I said to your mother, if you need anything, you let me know. I'll be there to help you in any way I can. Even if it is just to talk a little.”

Rolf cleared his throat while nodding his head. All the while he tried desperately not to ring out his hands while his heart slammed against his ribcage, threatening to reveal his secret. ”Thank you,” was all he could manage to say in response before the couple left them to converse with the others at the funeral.

Toward the end of the ceremony, a brunette woman, not of Geiranger made her way toward Rolf and his mother. His eyes widened slightly as he glanced over at his mother briefly. He had no idea who this woman was… Was she another hunter? A völva come to attack them at their moment of weakness? Or worse, someone who knew his secret? He didn’t realize he was holding hid breath until his mother took his hand to gain his attention. He finally exhaled, looking to his mother who gave him a reassuring smile while her thumb stroked the back of his hand. As much as he appreciated her support and love… Each moment this secret weighed on him, he feared the consequences and their affect on her.

"Rolf and Eva, I presume? Hello. I'm Livia Landon - Anton was a friend of my father's. My condolences on his passing,” the stranger said while taking each of their hands in a friendly greeting. So, she wasn’t from Geiranger, or Norway for that matter. Her American accent made her stand out like sore thumb compared to the others. "I just landed in Norway yesterday, my father sent me on his behalf. He and Anton were in the... hunting business together, you know, and on account of their friendship my father is anxious I should be involved in the search for the one responsible.” And there it was. Another veiði-maðr in this small village. Rolf felt like he was suffocating in all of this… Hiding himself from those who knew him, that he knew like the back of his hand was easier than trying to play false to some stranger.

"I am entirely at your disposal until this matter is settled. Again, I'm so sorry that we should meet under these circumstances.”

Rolf was at a loss for words, but thankfully for him his mother stepped forward. ”Any friend of Anton’s is a friend of ours,” Eva smiled warmly, gently grasping the woman’s upper arms in a kind welcome. ”We appreciate you traveling here on his behalf and any help you offer.”

”Yes, thank you… Ms. Landon.” The harder part was over, but the day had yet begun. Although the ceremony was finished, the veiði-maðr always celebrated the life after morning the death. Rolf wanted to drink himself under the table to forget, but with this knowledge… this secret… He could never touch a drop again. He was too scared to let himself lose inhibitions… who knew what they would do.




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tove blakely
völvax|xoutfitx|x#9D89A8

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Tove had been at it for awhile. It was always obvious when she was getting deep into something, there was an intense look about her, usually staring at books like she was threatening to divulge all of its secrets. She had already resorted to twisting her long raven hair up into a messy bun of sorts to keep it out of her way the farther she explored into the numerous books and tomes. She had lost a couple pencils having stuck them in her hair and forgetting they were there moments later.

It didn’t take long for her to get lost in thought and research. Locator spells weren’t particularly difficult, but often involved blood of the person you were trying to find… So, relatives were useful. But, Tove didn’t have that. She had nothing to go off of aside from the culprit being a völva. At first she looked into locator spells, but they all called for something she didn’t have the means to possess. So, no good. Her next option? Well, it was the long and grueling one. She would have to toil over mountains and mountains of books until she could hopefully find the spell that was used to kill the hunter.

Tove adjusted herself on her seat, bringing her left foot to sit on the edge of the chair. She rested her left palm on her knee with her chin upon the top of her hand. Her grimoire laid to the right of the table with loose pages spread out everywhere, while several tomes were opened before her. She froze, looking toward the door of the shop when she heard a knock. Tove didn’t move her gaze from the door as she leaned forward, grabbing a handful of the dust she concocted earlier. "He-ey,” a voice sang from behind the door as it was opened.

A lively mess of red hair and freckles bounced into the shop with a contagious smile. Tove gave soft sigh, releasing the dust back into the mortar. She dusted off her hands as the young girl entered and came toward her. "All cooped up as usual, my beautiful blackbird? It's a lovely day outsi - ooh, what are you reading?” Lucia asked as she glanced over Tove’s shoulder at the strewn mess upon the table.

The raven haired woman chuckled softly as she reached out and grabbed another chair at the table. She pulled it up beside her and patted the seat for the girl to join her. ”Many… many books,” Tove sighed softly with a weak chuckle. ”I am trying to figure out who killed the veiði-maðr.” She tapped her pencil on the table as she pursed her lips. ”But since I have nothing to go on beside hear say… it’s proving to be quite difficult. You wouldn’t have happened to heard anything on your neck of the woods?” It was unlikely, but something could have been heard in her family’s inn. Anything was more to go off of than what Tove knew. The only information she could find was that there wasn’t enough of him to bury or even cremate. A human bomb covering the room in a bloody Rorschach. It sounded like something Leif would be capable of… But there was blood everywhere and he would use up every drop for his own uses.

"I am home,” Leif’s voice called out as he entered the shop. Tove only glanced up briefly before looking back down to the task at hand. "Well hello little firecracker. What are the two of you up to?” he asked as he moved over to the girls, resting his arms along their shoulders.

Tove’s brows furrowed at one of the books as she abruptly closed it and dropped it in a stack on the floor to her left. Then grabbed a new book from the stack at the other end of the table, opening it in the old one’s place. ”Trying to figure out who the killer völva is.” She glanced over her shoulder toward him for a moment. ”Have you heard anything new?”




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gustav landvik
veiði-maðrx|xoutfitx|x#9B937E

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Gustav and Anneka moved away from the morning family, leaving them to deal with the others that came to pay their respects. All the while as they moved around the hall, he let the blonde beside him have his arm. When they found a place to stand and observe off to the side, he lightly patted her hand on his bent arm. Eventually his gaze found it’s way toward her own, locking on a brunette woman… Stranger no doubt, speaking with Eva and Rolf. His eyes squinted slightly as the questions quickly plagued his mind.

He could feel Anneka slowly leaning in closer to him and speaking with a hushed tone. "That girl talking to Rolf and his mother, do you know who she is?”

He shook his head. ”I haven’t a clue,” he said quietly.

Once the ceremony had ended, the crowd began to depart. Those whom were no hunters but friends left and were on their way while the hunters lingered. When only veiði-maðr were left, they descended down into the hunter’s barracks beneath the church, it’s entrance hidden back beyond the alter. Down below, the second part to the passing of a veiði-maðr took place. It was custom to first morn, then celebrate the life of the person who has left this world and found their place in heaven among the hunters of ages past. As per custom, to start the celebration, the leader of the veiði-maðr is to say some words in honor of the fallen hunter and their family.

Gustav gave Anneka a kiss on the cheek before slipping from her grasp. He grabbed himself a drink before he stood before the others that were gathered there. He gently clinked a utensil against his glass to get everyone’s attention. ”I know today has been a hard day for us all, Rolf and Eva more than the rest of us. Anton was a great man. He was loved and respected by each and everyone of us. There has never been a veiði-maðr as loyal, strong and dedicated as him. Seeing him go will not be easy on us, but we take comfort in knowing that he has ascended to heaven to live amongst the veiði-maðr of old until we too join him.”

He took a moment to take a deep breath, shifting the conversation to more important matters. ”Anton was a big blow, not just on us as a family, but on the veiði-maðr. Never before has a völva been so bold as to come into our homes and strike us down where we sleep. This attack is personal. This is beyond defense or self preservation… And I believe this to be an act of war. We will discover who did this to Anton and stop them before they take another innocent life! Today we celebrate the life a great man and tomorrow we no longer hunt from the shadows, but finally work to once and for all purge Geiranger of the völve and their taint.” With that Gustav raised his glass in a toast and then finished off his drink.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Lofn Byström Character Portrait: Rolf Nordskov Character Portrait: Livia Landon Character Portrait: Lucia Hall Character Portrait: Felix Henning Character Portrait: Leif Blakely Character Portrait: Ivar Torrun Character Portrait: Tove Blakely

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L I V I A x L A N D O N

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r o l e x // x veiði-maðr
h e x x // x #302b54
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The confusion on the son's face was understandable, and for a brief moment Livia wondered if maybe it would have been better to wait a few days after the funeral to introduce herself to the grieving family after all. She steeled herself, prepared to apologise and leave, when Eva took a step forward and placed her hands on Livia's arms, meeting her gaze.

"Any friend of Anton's is a friend of ours. We appreciate you travelling here on his behalf and any help you offer."

"Yes, thank you... Ms. Landon."

"Please." Livia waved her hands back and forth, her pleasant smile slipping back on like a second skin. "It's the least we can do. And, call me Livia."

Looking around, she noticed that the funeral attendees were beginning to leave, though a few who seemed to be close friends of the deceased remained, waiting. That was probably her cue to go, too. "This is my number -" she dug a post-it out of her bag and a stray pen, and scribbled down the number she'd be using during her time in Geiranger "- do call me soon, and we can talk a little more. Thank you very much for your welcome, and I'm sorry, again, for your loss. If there's anything else I can do, feel free to let me know." She met Rolf's eyes, holding his gaze for a moment before turning away. It seemed to be all the support she could offer for now.

The confused and occasionally suspicious murmurs that had surrounded her ever since she'd entered the funeral home didn't ebb as she left, and the people that parted to let her through had gazes that followed her movement, almost seeming to bore holes into her skin. She pulled the door closed behind her as she stepped out into the cold air, and suppressed a shudder that had nothing to do with the temperature at all.





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L U C I A x D A G N Y x H A L L

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r o l e x // x völva
h e x x // x #a2627a
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Lucia hopped onto the offered chair, peering at the tiny words on the page in front of Tove. Maybe because she'd fallen asleep studying her own books, but these were nigh impossible to read, the letters jumbling themselves up every time Lucia tried to make sense of them. She scowled at the words. Why couldn't old books ever be easier to read?

"I am trying to figure out who killed the veiði-maðr. But since I have nothing to go on besides hearsay... it's proving to be quite difficult. You wouldn't have happened to heard anything on your neck of the woods?"

Lucia shook her head, red curls flying. "Not much. Mats's been making guesses, but that's all they are. Stefan really doesn't want to have anything to do with it, so without his cooperation Mats has no way of knowing anything - I think I told you before, they can't make accurate predictions unless they work together." Sending up a silent thought of gratitude that she didn't have powers that relied on a twin's cooperation, she continued, "We don't really know anything. Mama's worried about getting too involved, and Aunt Marie won't say anything about it either. There's only been whispers in the cafe." Considering the network that Lucia's family afforded her, knowing this little was frustrating - she couldn't imagine how Tove must feel. All the same, it was hard to picture any of the völva in their community being so violent, let alone in an unprovoked attack against a veiði-maðr.

"I am home." Lost in thought, Lucia startled at the voice. She hadn't heard the door. Twisting around in her seat, she sighted Leif walking into the shop, leaning over the two of them. "Well hello little firecracker. What are the two of you up to?"

Lucia smiled at the nickname, relaxing into her chair again. "I'm just here to bug Tove, and steal the oxygen in the shop with my chattering," she laughed. "Tove, I forgot - mama asked me to pick some things up, I should be heading back soon. I can help myself though, don't you bother yourself over me!" So saying, she gave Leif's hand a friendly pat and swung her feet to the floor, pulling the list out of her pocket and consulting it as she began to look through the things in the shop.





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Lofn's news did not start off alarming - hunters were bound to end up in the Vægher sooner or later, the trouble they always got themselves into. Hardly any of his business. But her next words were definitely cause for concern. "Everyone is on edge… Including your parents. I offered to come check on you… to put them at ease."

Felix's expression softened immediately at the mention of his parents. "Tell them I'm fine - I'm just fine. No one bothers me out here. Well, besides you." He raised his eyebrows, indicating it was only a joke. She should know that he never minded her presence that much, especially when she was kind enough to do his parents favours out of all the souls in the Vægher. "I appreciate you helping them out, Lofn. Their... friends weren't too good to them when they were alive. Knowing that they have a friend in you in Vægher is a comforting thought." He felt the familiar bitterness rising in his voice, and try as he might it would not go away entirely.

"Do you have any idea what’s going on? Who killed the hunter?"

Felix shook his head, turning his attention back to the spinach, combing his fingers through the leaves idly. Talk about the veiði-maðr always made him itchy and fearful in a way he couldn't quite place. "I hardly know who he is, I haven't been into town for a couple of weeks now. You'll get no news from me." I shouldn't be surprised if it was Leif, he thought, but perhaps it was unfair to point fingers without knowing anything. Even if that finger was pointed at a murderous völva who was more than happy to bleed himself dry in order to hunt the veiði-maðr down himself.

Her hand drew close to his, her voice low. "You should be careful… Leave Geiranger before -" The hitch in her words caught Felix's attention. "What? Is something wrong?"

"We're not alone." Normally the mention of another presence hanging around would only irritate Felix more, but the hushed tone of Lofn's voice was enough to put him on edge. Whoever it was...

"Ivar?"

Felix's tension vanished in an instant. He knew that name, much as he wished he didn't. Damn Leif. He still refused to leave him alone. It had been literal years, and he still acted as if he had some right to continue intruding on Felix's life. Didn't he have anything better to do with his spirit servants? He got to his feet, raising his voice, uncaring of how Lofn would respond.

"If you're here to get news for Leif, Ivar, you can tell him I want him to fuck off. You and him both, actually. Get off my property."

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Lofn Byström Character Portrait: Rolf Nordskov Character Portrait: Gustav Landvik Character Portrait: Livia Landon Character Portrait: Lucia Hall Character Portrait: Felix Henning Character Portrait: Leif Blakely Character Portrait: Ivar Torrun Character Portrait: Synnove Vollan Character Portrait: Kristoffer Årud Character Portrait: Camilla Omdahl Character Portrait: Tove Blakely Character Portrait: Anneka Svanhild

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Ivar Torrun
vaettr| #008B8B| outfit
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Ivar didn't know what to make of Lofn and Felix. Lofn should not be here unless Felix had summoned her as Leif had summoned him. But from what he remembered of Felix, he was not the kind of volva to do something like this. So how was it that Lofn was here? Did she know of another way to appear in this realm without the aid of the living? What was more important was why Lofn was here. If Felix had summoned her, what purpose did he have? Felix was solitary. He didn't seem to care about the struggles between the volva and veidi madr. Was he trying to reach out to his parents perhaps?

At Felix's words however, the spirit faltered. The forceful command may have sent him away from the man's territory, but Leif's strength and command kept him anchored. Either way, it wasn't a very nice feeling. He had hoped that maybe Felix would be open to an exchange with Leif after all this time, but it appeared the man still had no intention of doing that whatsoever. He sighed. His hope for Leif was dwindling. Felix was the only one that could maybe talk some sense into the volva's thick head. And he truly wished he could leave as Felix obviously wished of him.

"Felix. I will give him your message. I wish I could depart. Leif requested I check in on you, make sure you are safe. I can't leave so quickly. It is good to see you are well however." Ivar turned his attention to Lofn then. "Hello Lofn. I am surprised to see you here as well." A part of him was uneasy about it, however. He would have to tell Leif about Lofn though he didn't want to. What would be the volva's response, knowing that a spirit was around Felix? Something in him dreaded the man's response.

"Did Felix call you here?" he asked then. He hoped that wasn't the case. Felix had to know that being bound was horrible. He did not wish it on Lofn, even from a gentle volva like Felix. Kind and good volva could turn wicked, after all, as had been the case with Leif. Magic truly could twist someone up completely in darkness. "And I have a word of caution. I am here by the command of a volva, Leif. Everything I see, I have to tell him. That means I must mention your presence here. I will try to keep it a secret as long as I can to protect you. I don't know what his response will be about the knowledge of a spirit here beside Felix. I hope he sees nothing of it. I just... I felt the need to warn you, in case Leif is unreasonable. He is necromancer and a blood mage."



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Leif Blackely
volva| #8C1717
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Leif watched as Lucia pulled away to start looking for the items on her shopping list. She really was a whirlwind of energy. Between his absence and meditation and his sister's researching habits, the house was often quiet. She certainly brought more 'life' back into the place with her presence. She was a sudden flame and he found her to be a good inspiration with her fire. She was always so eager and happy. A part of him wished he was that exuberant, and he wondered if he ever had been. Always consulting with the dead had a way of making one pensive. Yes, Lucia was definitely a much-needed pick me up if he was ever going to get things done.

”Trying to figure out who the killer völva is. Have you heard anything new?” his sister asked and brought his attention back to her.

"Sadly, nada. Ivar had no idea someone had died. So, either he can't feel it when someone passes on or he was oblivious in his prayers. Either way, no help to us," he sighed. "Sometimes I wonder if he ignores things on purpose just to spite me." He wouldn't put it pass Ivar to try and conceal things, render his help of no use in some way. Their relationship had become strained at times and it was only the fact that Ivar feared for his enteral soul that the vaettr didn't openly defy Leif and shred his soul himself. Still, it was annoying that he had to remind Ivar that he was bound in mind and purpose.

"Anyway, I sent him off to check in on Felix, see if he knows anything. I doubt it considering the fool blinds himself in ignorance. Buuuuuut, I say stay on your toes. Considering our reputation and our shop items, I don't doubt that a veidi madr or two may pay us an unwelcome visit. Make sure anything you use with real magic is out of their greedy little fingers," he mused. He knew his sister was cautious and wouldn't let the hunters notice, but he still wanted to warn his sister.

It was almost a game of cat and mouse and the danger was thrilling. The veidi madr knew their parents had been volva and had them killed. Leif and Tove were on the watchlist but they were both clever. They knew how to hide their magic and continued to look like silly mediums, regular folk dabbling in things without real power. Some of the towns folk new something was up and would never cross them, afraid it would come back to haunt them literally. Others were content to consider them charlatans who faked seances for the feeble minded. It suited Leif just fine. He enjoyed the fact that they stayed just a hand out of reach of the hunters.

"Gods I wish I could go to the scene of the crime and see what happened there. I would be able to find out who the killer was in a flash. But I am sure the veidi madr will have a shit ton more guards there now. I might be able to call on the vaettr himself, but it is too soon after the death to call him forward. He won't tell me what happened. But oooh, maybe I should have Ivar go back to Vaegher and seek out the dead hunter and ask him what happened. I don't know why I didn't think of that before." he mused. "The guy will be far more inclined to answer another veidi madr's questions. Anything else you want Ivar to ask before I call him back from his current task?"



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Anneka Svanhild
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Anneka watched the stranger the entire time she was present. Considering that a volva had gone into a hunter's home, she did not doubt that some would grow balsy enough to try and take down the whole force of the veidi madr in their time of grief. They would assume the veidi madr were weakened, distracted. Oh, they had another thing coming to them if they would try. The hunters were ever vigilant and would not stop being hunters, even on a funeral day; especially on a funeral day. She wished she could get her hands on the volva that had done this to Rolf and his family. She knew revenge would not stop the ache, but it would be ever so satisfying.

Anneka shook her head to clear her mind of such thoughts. She would not distract herself now. The young woman talked briefly with Rolf and passed a note to them before turning away from the service and heading out of the church. Hm. So she really was just here for the service. But how was she related to the family? Rolf and his mother didn't look like they recognized her. How had she heard about the funeral? Was she a veidi madr from somewhere else? If so, why did she not greet the rest of the veidi madr here? This girl was a puzzle and Anneka wanted answers. Nothing could stay unknown in this perilous time.

When Gustav motioned, they all retreated into their base, Anneka gave on last look at the door before she followed her leader to begin the celebratory portion of the service. Anneka drank little, not wanting to lose her wits. She was going to have to stay focused if she was determined to investigate the new face. Her attention settled on her man when he moved away to begin his speech.

”I know today has been a hard day for us all, Rolf and Eva more than the rest of us. Anton was a great man. He was loved and respected by each and everyone of us. There has never been a veiði-maðr as loyal, strong and dedicated as him. Seeing him go will not be easy on us, but we take comfort in knowing that he has ascended to heaven to live amongst the veiði-maðr of old until we too join him. Anton was a big blow, not just on us as a family, but on the veiði-maðr. Never before has a völva been so bold as to come into our homes and strike us down where we sleep. This attack is personal. This is beyond defense or self preservation… And I believe this to be an act of war. We will discover who did this to Anton and stop them before they take another innocent life! Today we celebrate the life a great man and tomorrow we no longer hunt from the shadows, but finally work to once and for all purge Geiranger of the völve and their taint.”

Anneka raised her glass with Gustav and drank its contents. She agreed full-heartedly that this was war. It had always been war, but now more than ever, something had to change. They couldn't keep dragging this out, waiting for some volva to make themselves known so they could target and kill them one by one. Too many veidi madr were dying this way. They had to ferret them out now. There couldn't be that many volva around. They'd taken care of so many. "Let's rid the world of these sinful bastards once and for all. They've murdered and corrupted this world long enough. I say we're the generation to wipe them out," she added. "We have the will and we each have different strengths. If we really work as a team, I think we can do it in record time. We must be clever about it. I do not want to see any more of our own die before their time.”

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Lofn Byström Character Portrait: Rolf Nordskov Character Portrait: Gustav Landvik Character Portrait: Livia Landon Character Portrait: Lucia Hall Character Portrait: Felix Henning Character Portrait: Leif Blakely Character Portrait: Ivar Torrun Character Portrait: Tove Blakely Character Portrait: Anneka Svanhild

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#, as written by mjolnir
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lofn byström
vættrx|xoutfitx|x#E69C7A

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Lofn's gaze drifted between the two as Felix moved to his feet. She slowly followed suit, standing partly between them. It wasn't that she thought Ivar would really do anything, nor could he. But she knew of his tether and the visible discomfort Felix showed at the spirit's present made her apprehensive. She did not intervene, instead watching in silence.

"If you're here to get news for Leif, Ivar, you can tell him I want him to fuck off. You and him both, actually. Get off my property," Felix said toward Ivar with enough authority that it made Lofn wonder if she too should leave. But she said nothing, nor did she move.

"Felix. I will give him your message. I wish I could depart. Leif requested I check in on you, make sure you are safe. I can't leave so quickly. It is good to see you are well however," Ivar replied politely before looking toward her. "Hello Lofn. I am surprised to see you here as well." Lofn cocked her head to the side at his comment, turning herself to face him. "Did Felix call you here?"

The redhead's brows furrowed as she took a slight step forward, motioning her hand toward Felix as she spoke. "He is a medium, Ivar." Lofn could have ellborated, explaining how he can see any spirit if he wishes, yet they would appear like a ghost to the eye. Not only that, but her being a medium in her past life makes her connection with the living stronger. That, and her residual magic that still resided within her. But she said nothing, for it was as simple as that. "I came of my own will." With that, she glanced over her shoulder slightly to glance at Felix before looking back to Ivar.

"And I have a word of caution. I am here by the command of a volva, Leif. Everything I see, I have to tell him. That means I must mention your presence here. I will try to keep it a secret as long as I can to protect you. I don't know what his response will be about the knowledge of a spirit here beside Felix. I hope he sees nothing of it. I just... I felt the need to warn you, in case Leif is unreasonable. He is necromancer and a blood mage."

Lofn pursed her lips as she sighed deeply from her nose. Her head fell slightly as she began to speak, "I appreciate you're warning." She then looked up toward him one last time. "I do no fear Leif." Lofn should have left it there and said no more. After all it was not her place. But from what she knew of Leif from the other spirits in Vægher, Ivar and what she herself has observed... She did not like him, nor care so much as to be on his good side. "You may tell Leif that Felix is looked after... and safe."




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rolf nordskov
veiði-maðrx|xvölvax|xoutfitx|x#8BA3A6

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"Please." The new arrival waved her hands like it was nothing while also giving Rolf and his mother a sympathetic smile. "It's the least we can do. And, call me Livia."

The room was slowly emptying, much to Rolf's relief. It was exhausting, pretending like everything was ok, like he wasn't a murder or a völva. If it wasn't for his mother, he would have turned himself in already. He would have told Gustav the truth of that night, of Anton's horrid nature, what he did to his mother and how Rolf turned him into paint in their living room. But his mother would protect him with her life and he refused to take her down with him, not matter how much she wanted to. So, for the time being he would play mourning and obdient son until the moment came where he and his mother could leave Geiranger and disappear.

"This is my number -" Livia's voice brought Rolf back out of his own thoughts and to the current moment. He watched as she scribbled down her number and then held it out to him. Rolf hesitated for a moment before extending his hand and taking the piece of paper. "- do call me soon, and we can talk a little more. Thank you very much for your welcome, and I'm sorry, again, for your loss. If there's anything else I can do, feel free to let me know."

Rolf nodded his head, tucking the piece of paper away in the breast pocket of his jacket. "Yes, thank you, Livia."

Before she wondered off, Eva placed her hand on Livia's shoulder once more in gentle gratitude. "Thank you. Please feel free to visit. Any friend of Anton's is a friend of ours."

Rolf gave another smile to Livia before she parted ways and left the service. Once she was gone and everyone was out of ear shot of himself and Eva, he turned to his mother, speaking to her in hushed tones. "What are you doing? She's a hunter, mother. Bringing her into our home isn't wise."

Eva acted as if she was consoling her son while speaking to him softly. "Love, we have to act like any other family would in such a situation. That includes invitations to family friends."

He had no choice but to nod his head and agree. Rolf hated all of this. As much as the thought of death scared him, it would be a means to an end. He knew deep down inside that there was no way for this to end well. Rolf could only hope that before everything had a chance to blow up in his face, that he could convince his mother to get as far from Geiranger as possible.

Eva took her son's arm and followed their leader down into the hunter's barracks. Rolf walked in tow with her but his mind was else where, toiling over the gravity of the situation and what that would mean for the pair of them. But regardless of what transpired through this mind, Rolf went through the motions like a zombie. Him and his mother stood near the front of the crowd as their leader, Gustav gave a suitable speach and a toast.

Following his words, Anneka too spoke toward the crowd. "Let's rid the world of these sinful bastards once and for all. They've murdered and corrupted this world long enough. I say we're the generation to wipe them out. We have the will and we each have different strengths. If we really work as a team, I think we can do it in record time. We must be clever about it. I do not want to see any more of our own die before their time."

Once the speaches were done and it was time to start celebrating the life of the recently deceased rather than mourn, Rolf made his way toward the bar and got himself another drink. the worst part of the night was over but the hardest part was yet to come. For the rest of his life, be it a week for fifty years he had to pretend like what happened never transpired and that his only knowledge of witchcraft was that of those they hunted.




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tove blakely
völvax|xoutfitx|x#9D89A8

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Tove adjusted herself on her chair, tucking her legs under her frame, crossed. Her left elbow rested upon the table with her cheek in hand. Her eyes scanned the pages for the... who knows how many times before looking back over toward Lucia. "Not much. Mats's been making guesses, but that's all they are. Stefan really doesn't want to have anything to do with it, so without his cooperation Mats has no way of knowing anything - I think I told you before, they can't make accurate predictions unless they work together. We don't really know anything. Mama's worried about getting too involved, and Aunt Marie won't say anything about it either. There's only been whispers in the cafe." That's what she expected but it couldn't hurt to ask. Before Tove could say anything else Leif returned to the store and greated them both.

"I'm just here to bug Tove, and steal the oxygen in the shop with my chattering. Tove, I forgot - mama asked me to pick some things up, I should be heading back soon. I can help myself though, don't you bother yourself over me!"

"Ok, love. Let me know if you need help with anything." Tove turned the page in her book and began to read, but stopped abruptly to call back out to Lucia. "There are some fresh wild flowers by the door if you wish to take them back to the inn."

She watched the young girl shop about the store with a gentle smile. Tove always liked Lucia's presence. It was so different than her own sober existence and whatever you would call her brother. She sighed softly and looked over at her brother. "Sadly, nada. Ivar had no idea someone had died. So, either he can't feel it when someone passes on or he was oblivious in his prayers. Either way, no help to us. Sometimes I wonder if he ignores things on purpose just to spite me."

Tove sighed softly. "Can you blame him?" She wasn't going to get into an argument about how he spent his free time. Not when there we others around and the argument would go down the same path it always does.

"Anyway, I sent him off to check in on Felix, see if he knows anything. I doubt it considering the fool blinds himself in ignorance. Buuuuuut, I say stay on your toes. Considering our reputation and our shop items, I don't doubt that a veidi madr or two may pay us an unwelcome visit. Make sure anything you use with real magic is out of their greedy little fingers."

Loose raven hairs fell in front of Tove's face as she nodded her head. She pulled a pen from behind her ear and tapped a stone bowl in front of her holding what looked like harmless dust but Leif would know better. It was a simple concoction that could knock out anyone. "I'm always prepared."

"Gods I wish I could go to the scene of the crime and see what happened there. I would be able to find out who the killer was in a flash. But I am sure the veidi madr will have a shit ton more guards there now. I might be able to call on the vaettr himself, but it is too soon after the death to call him forward. He won't tell me what happened. But oooh, maybe I should have Ivar go back to Vaegher and seek out the dead hunter and ask him what happened. I don't know why I didn't think of that before. The guy will be far more inclined to answer another veidi madr's questions. Anything else you want Ivar to ask before I call him back from his current task?"

Tove shook her head slightly as she scooted forward in her seat, drawing her attention back to her books. "I have no need of your puppet, brother. I'll use my own methods to try and discover the root of this." She used her pen to make more notes in her grimoire and turned another page with a soft sigh. Her gaze moved back up to Lucia as she searched the store. "Little bird, do have a protection spell on you and your family's buildings? I can help strengthen them... given the circumstances."




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gustav landvik
veiði-maðrx|xoutfitx|x#9B937E

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Gustav smiled at Anneka's words, gently resting his hand on her lower back, stroking her softly with his thumb. He was such a lucky man having a strong dynamic woman at his side. Together they lead the veiði-maðr effortlessly. She was a force that gave him convinction whenever his thoughts were wavering. The veiði-maðr needed strong leaders and it assured him that they would be in good hands if anything were ever to happen to him.

He gave Anneka a kiss on the cheek and rose his glass to her words. "Here, here." Gustav toasted his glass with Anneka's and took a drink.

With a kiss to Anneka's cheek, he cleared his throat to get the room's attention once more. "Now, in true veiði-maðr fashion, we shall drink, be merry and celebrate Anton's life!"

Traditional Norwegian music began to echo through the halls of the barracks and the hunters began dancing and drinking in honor of the recently deceased, Anton. With everyone's attention distracted, he turned back toward Anneka. His voice was soft and he kept a smile upon his face while his tone was more serious. "There hasn't been any news or whispers from the other hunters in regards to Anton's death. I can't help but wonder if I should go inspect the Nordskov while Eva and Rolf are here."

Gustav took Anneka's free hand and gave her a little spin in tune with the music before continuing. "I shouldn't think of such things." He sighed and gave her a tender smile. "I should focus on Anton's memorial." His gaze drifted over toward the mourning Nordskov's. "What are your thoughts on all of this?"