War of the Burning Sky: IC

[Greymane]

Hákon grunts and nods in affirmation at Rantle. No, he wouldn't be able to travel on the wagon. A gift of heritage. The spoils having been thrown into the wagon, the fire-haired warrior turned the wagon around, took off down the road. The half-giant followed, managing to keep pace by virtue of his longer strides. Seeing Able fall off the horse would have normally elicited a chuckle from him, but he eyes the sky continually, more worried about the venomous winged beast there. He had seen them before, and while his giant-kin were able to fight them off spectacularly well, he was not as skilled in hurling boulders and rocks as his brethren. Fighting one in these conditions would be difficult. He pulls a javelin out and holds it; it was no boulder, but it would have to do.

Hákon was having a difficult time understanding Jerid's desire to save the woman. She had her chance to surrender the cart peaceably, and she received a punishment fitting for her crimes. Its execution was perhaps a little more cruel than necessary, but that hardly mattered. Far worse things could have been meted out to her in a time of war. Was it pity, perhaps? Or perhaps his resolve for violence was weak? He did manage to miss in their battle. Perhaps it was not an accident? If that's the case, he is squandering his gifts.

At Able's wavering resolve, Hákon's frustration finally peaked. "Stop it, elfling." He spoke haltingly. "At least have the courage to stand by your convictions. Going back and forth is cowardice of character. As strange as his stance is, at least the farmer has strength to stand by his beliefs." The giant then faces Jerid. "You're bringing only trouble with you, farmer. She stole, she was caught, and she was punished for her crimes. We live, and die, with the consequences of our actions. The skalds will not sing of you heroically returning with a wounded thief, alive because you took pity with only her own choices to blame." He turned his gaze back towards the sky. "I hope you understand what you'll be returning home to with this decision."

He keeps his gaze fixed on the sky, and addresses Able again. "And a lyndwyrm, elfling, is a great winged beast, with scales as hard as steel, and talons as sharp as blades. Its barbed tail strong enough to pierce the strongest of armor, and is quite venomous." He turns to the elven mage. "Some say they are related to mighty dragons."