An Angel Called Eternity

To Bet on Losing Dogs - Svaltha V: Destiny Refuted

Svaltha V: Destiny Refuted

The Second Day of the Eighth Moon, 873 AD.
Dyfed's Warcamp, Hoarsoil Valleys, Scelopyrea.

She was fucked. Completely and utterly fucked. Not even the good kind either, but the regular shitty kind that just made her feel awful and highlighted just how terribly everything was going at the moment.

I just want one season without something upending my life, I swear to Krakevasil.

Everything she thought was good and right in the order of the druids had been shown as being false by the one worthy god, and it was her responsibility to ensure that whatever ruin might be brought about by the very schemes she helped to put into place would be stopped in its tracks. She wasn't stupid, she knew she couldn't do it alone, but she had remarkably few people to turn to. She couldn't go to the druids, who might see her message as a trick or a threat to their power. She couldn't tell Kætil, for he still didn't know she'd been planted to try and ensnare him and she didn't want to risk alienating him if he did find out. The situation with the others was much the same.

That was why she was here instead. She'd ridden away from the battle-line, alone, back to the Great Jaerl's warcamp, and asked for an audience with Dyfed Ostæinson once more. It had been granted, but that didn't mean she was excited for this. The Great Jaerl was a... he was an intimidating man, and there was no-one in all of Scelopyrea who would say otherwise. The two silent guards were at the entranceway to the tent, as seemed to be usual, and whilst they dwarfed her in size they were each a head shorter than the Great Jaerl himself.

And the last time they spoke he hadn't exactly been a pleasant conversation partner.

Still, he did seem to mistrust the druids, and he was one of the most powerful men in Scelopyrea. Probably the most powerful man, seeing as the only person with enough power to rival his own was a woman and not a man. Not only that, but she was a... companion, for his son. That had to count for something, right?

But all of those thoughts were just excuses, and she knew it. She just wanted to put off having to speak with him for a few moments longer. Still, she couldn't put it off forever, and so with a deep breath and a muttered prayer she steeled herself and walked with purpose up to the tent, the two guards moving aside before she'd even introduced herself.

That gave her a half-second of pause, but she quickly shook it off and carried on. Perhaps word of her coming had been given to them ahead of time?

With the briefest of nods she made to enter the tent, neither of the guards acknowledging her as she pushed aside the flap and looked around the room. It was all but the same as how she'd left it, though she was more than confident that a few of the trinkets around the room had changed. She didn't know the significance of any of them; a small dragon carved from jade, a piece of driftwood with a prayer carved into it that had been silvered over, a book with a title in one of the southern tongues, maybe Klironomean but she had no way of knowing since the only word she could read said 'Jotun' on the front, that sort of thing. She was certain that different items had been around the room earlier, but she couldn't remember what any of them had been. Not that it was important at all, probably.

"Druid Svaltha. You asked to speak with me once more."

She steeled herself once more and spoke to the huge man, puffing herself up to look as confident as she could, no matter the fact that she'd hardly felt less confident in her life.

"I did, Great Jaerl. I could think of no-one else to trust with this, and given the fact that your previous comments indicated that you knew my kind were up to something I figured you would be the most receptive ear to what I had to say."