From Kaerls to Huscarls.

[aleifr]

Aleifr's fingers flexed a little as the shuttle began to rumble with the thrum of it's engines, digging into his harness as he felt the thing lift off the ground. He still wasn't used to this. Even after months of serving the Rout and seeing the wonders that they had at their disposal, riding in the belly of one of their flying ships still made him vaguely uneasy - at least until they'd hit the point where they were flying smoothly.

Once they were, he unbuckled the harness strapping him into his seat and made his way to the viewport at the back of the ship. Thick, white clouds filled up most of the view, but he could see little scraps of Fenris through the gaps. Mountains, ice, braces of pine trees and the endless expanse of Asaheim. As they climbed, the details grew harder to make out and his perpetual scowl deepened.

He was grateful to Jarl Ironwolf for the honor he'd given him - him and Aila both. He'd be a fucking idiot not to considering he's to be serving one of the Allfather's agents directly ... but it was strange to think that he might not see this place again. Their world. Their home. He didn't like that thought.

But his jarl had given him a task, and he'd see it through.

Comments

[aleifr]

"The Inquisitor said that she'd pick up anything else we needed from the Mechanicus." Aleifr glances at her over his shoulder.

"I think they can manage an axe."

[letitallout]

"That they can," McCoy says from the doorway where he's watching them with amusement.

Aila goes back to perusing the selection, pulling a long-las from its brackets. Hardly as impressive as Aleifr's find, but she hasn't touched one since she'd qualified on it during training. "Do they make stalker bolters sized for mortals?"

"Probably," McCoy replies. "I'm sure the Arbites have sharpshooters."

"Add that to the list," Aila says with another laugh. If Aleifr's getting a power axe, she doubts the Mechanicus will balk at a bolter.

[aleifr]

"We've a list, do we?" Aleifr asks, a glimmer of amused faux-surprise in his eye.

Considering the armies the Mechanicus have to equip? He'd be surprise if they didn't churn out axes, bolters, and more by the hour. They'll have no trouble getting what they need.

[letitallout]

"I'd rather have it and not need it than the other way around," Aila points out, unabashed, more of her attention on the labels of the ammunition crates than on Aleifr. She still finds offworlder runes tricky to read.

[aleifr]

He'd drink to that if he had a tankard handy, though that little smirk she finds so infuriating is playing across his lips. She makes a good point, but he knows her well enough to know that she'd amass a dragon's horde of weaponry for no other reason than her own pleasure.

"They're bullets." He says, indicating the crates she's examining. "Left are boltgun variants, right are autoguns."

[letitallout]

"I know what an ammo crate looks like," Aila grumbles under her breath. She fully intends to trade her autogun for a more accurate lasgun on the way out, so she leaves the ammunition where it sits.

"You said no krak grenades. What about antipersonnel?" she asks McCoy, grinning over her shoulder.

"Planning to repel some boarders in the near future?" he replies, not taking the bait.

"You never know," Aila says, hefting a concussion grenade.

"That might represent an excessive degree of preparedness," McCoy says, but he doesn't tell her to put it back, which as far as she's concerned is permission.

[aleifr]

"Our thane mentioned that we know that ignorance can be as lethal as a bolter round." Aleifr says from across the room without looking away from a velvet-lined box of golden rings that seems bafflingly out of place among the weapons that lined every other inch of the room.

"We tend to feel the same way about not having the right tools for a job."

[letitallout]

McCoy sighs while Aila helps herself to a grenade belt, but again doesn't outright tell her she can't take grenades if she wants them. She's even mostly sticking to flash grenades. Don't want to damage anything important in a spaceship if you can help it.

"Aleifr," he says instead, "the right tools for the job notwithstanding, if you're planning on taking one of the digi-weapons, I'm going to insist on clearing that directly with the Inquisitor first."

[aleifr]

And once again, Aleifr's response is non-verbal. Just a silent glance over his shoulder that asks for clarification. He just thought they looked like they belonged in someone's strongbox instead of their armory.

[letitallout]

"Digital weapons." McCoy expands the term. "Each one of those rings is the equivalent of a pistol, and not some backwater world's slug-thrower, either. That one in the middle with the diamond skull is more or less a miniaturized inferno pistol."

Aila's head snaps up and she frowns at McCoy in disbelief for a moment before she abandons her grenade requisitioning to go peer around Aleifr's arm at the innocuous-looking jewelry. She doesn't like rings herself--you can hurt yourself punching someone--but she might make an exception for an inferno pistol.

[aleifr]

Aleifr, for his part, simply looks back towards McCoy, eyes narrowing slightly in an effort to determine whether the good doctor is fucking with him.

When he's fairly certain that's not the case ... his eyes go wider and he just looks down at Aila and shakes his head in plainfaced awe. What a fucking world they've come to.

[letitallout]

After meeting the Inquisitor, Aila would have thought she'd exhausted her capacity to be shocked for the day, but apparently not. She returns Aleifr's look with a wide-eyed one of her own while McCoy keeps talking.

"Each of them's worth a governor's ransom, and more to the point, they're fiendishly difficult to reload, so I'm going to have to ask you to stick to grenades," he says, correctly assessing which of them is likeliest to fill her pockets with irreplaceable artifacts.

[aleifr]

A correct guess, but gods be damned if Aleifr isn't tempted himself. A moment ago, he'd never have imagined that, outside of the stories of ancient heroes and gothi, a ring could be anything more than a pretty bauble. Yet here are half a dozen that could blow a man's skull to pieces sitting right here in front of him.

He wants to wear one just to see what it feels like to hold it and fire it, but they belong to his thane and not him.

"I'd ask how much a governor gets ransomed for, but ..."

Well, he's only heard of throne gelt. He doesn't know what one of them will get you.

[letitallout]

"I really couldn't say, to be honest." McCoy shrugs. "It's come up a few times that I know of, but the Inquisitor's always called the bluff."

Aila tears her eyes away from the deceptively elegant jewelry to look at McCoy over the rack of rifles that divides the armory in half. "Were they bluffing?"

"Not all of them," McCoy says mildly.

[aleifr]

Aleifr would be more impressed, but the information doesn't come as much of a surprise, honestly. She's an agent of the Allfather's will. It'd be more of a shock if she didn't have nerves harder than an Astartes's plate.

He just gives a vaguely approving nod as he meanders to the other side of the rack and looks for a bolt pistol that fits his hand.

[letitallout]

McCoy watches him try the various pistols. "If you find one you like, our tech-priests can modify the grip, no Forge World required."

"His family doesn't know when to stop growing," Aila chimes in from where she's looking at lasguns.

[aleifr]

"I'd have to fire them before I tell you whether or not I like them." Aleifr replies to McCoy with a casual shrug. The ship may not be big enough to house a company, but he's seen enough soldiers around that he's confident there's a firing range hidden somewhere to keep them sharp.

Then his attention returns to Aila. He glances at her over the top of the rack -- proving her point, really, but he's grinning.

"Still bitter?"

[letitallout]

"I was never bitter," Aila replies disdainfully. Bitter people are way less confrontational about their grievances than she is.

[aleifr]

Judging by the little snort of laughter from his side of the weapon's rack? He doesn't buy that.

His eyes return to the row of firearms for a moment, picking out a few weapons that he'll need to test before looking over at McCoy.

"I assume we'll be able to come back here as needed? Take what we need, test things on whatever training range you have once we've had a chance to see our quarters?"

[letitallout]

Aila glares at Aleifr and McCoy pretends not to notice. "Of course," he says with a nod. "Is that a hint that we should be moving along?"

Aila, a different pattern of lasgun in each hand, is willing to be moved along, largely because she can only carry so much, and she puts the lasgun she likes less back onto the rack.

[aleifr]

"It was a question."

Aleifr's blunt enough that if he was done here, he'd have said as much. However, the casual shrug that follows it ...

"Though I would like to see where we'll be staying."

For now, he replaces everything but the sword he'd chosen and the bolt pistol that fit his hand most comfortably.

[letitallout]

"All right then," McCoy says, disguising any relief he might be feeling. "We'll just get you signed out with the Corporal."

The Corporal is impassive himself, recording their requisitions without so much as a raised eyebrow at the beginnings of what will turn into Aila's grenade stockpile if she goes unchecked, and McCoy leads them back into the hallway. "Range is around that corner," he says, gesturing as he leads them in the opposite direction, back towards the lift. "Your quarters are up in officer country with the rest of the Inquisitor's entourage."

[aleifr]

"Good to know." Aleifr nods.

He grins back at Aila, though. Officer Country. It's like hearing that he's been given chambers in Jarlheim and it's hard not to feel just a touch smug at that.

report me to the inquisition 'cause i'm doing necromancy

[steady_hand]

"Who are our neighbors?" Aila asks as she trails Aleifr trailing McCoy.

"Me," McCoy replies, "and others you haven't met yet. You'll like Logan. Or," he says after a pause, "more to the point, he'll like you."

now that i'm done DMing for the night, elmorise.gif

[aleifr]

"The Inquisitor mentioned him," Aleifr says, in lock-step with his wife. "He's ... like us?"

From a Death World, he means, but his command of Low Gothic still leaves something to be desired. It's possible that someone who wasn't from a lethally hostile climate could connect to them, but to him it seems the shortest path.