Snippet #2765163

located in Geiranger, Norway, a part of Unworthy of Valhalla, one of the many universes on RPG.

Geiranger, Norway

Geiranger, Norway


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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lofn byström

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.


rolf nordskov

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.


tove blakely

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?”


gustav landvik

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.