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 Post subject: Abbey life
PostPosted: Fri Oct 12, 2012 12:14 am 
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Joined: Sat Jan 03, 2009 7:49 am
Posts: 797
Location: Leeds/Vanaheim
Real Name: Karl
It was raining heavily again, the stone floor of the court yard was slick and slippery underfoot, especially when wearing Dark Brotherhood issue steel shod boots. The echoes of sword play and shield drills resonated off the grey granite walls.
Taking advantage of a short break, I dipped my tankard into the overflowing water trough and took a long draught of cold water; it was just what I needed, hours of drill in full kit works up a thirst.
I was a seasoned warrior and stone cold killer before I took my blood oaths to the order, an individual, to be reckoned with, now I was a cog in a wheel, part of the killing machine of Thorgrim’s crew.
I heard, the young Captain Thorgrim and his sergeant at arms Grom, discussing the new lads from blood section who are aspirants to the order, they were barely old enough to grow a beard.
“They are children of the Abbey their faith is strong. They know only service to the Grey Wolf, and are cast from the same mould as you and I Thorgrim, it won’t take them long to reach their quota of blood stones “
Thorgrim smiled bitterly “I hope so Grom we need all the men we can get, thanks to the dog Gold Drinker and his band of traitors, we have lost many men this year, especially in this crew, with all the fighting there’s barely any of old Thorkill’s crew left.”
“Aye, the brother s found it easy to fulfil their blood oaths, The Grey Wolf will be pleased with their sacrifice, if what you said earlier comes about, the meat grinder will be working hard again.”
I almost smiled, Gold Drinker, vengeance was at hand, these young brothers of mine know how to smash a shield wall, and are skilled in the art of killing I have been part of it and seen it with my own eyes. Fenris grant me this selfish boon, and guide my blade so that I may honour my brotherhood and thy name.

Anders the Avenger, "Dark Brother, and Captain of the Order of Fenris", "May Fenris guide your hand."

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 Post subject: Re: Abbey life
PostPosted: Sat Oct 13, 2012 4:00 pm 
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Joined: Tue May 05, 2009 10:58 am
Posts: 453
Location: Leeds/Vanaheim
Real Name: Chris
A dry, clean robe. The most invaluable gift any brother could ever receive during his service to the grey wolf's name. Comfort, warmth, hygeine. Thorgrim knew he had more chance of finding Mjolnir under his pillow than ever experiencing such a luxury. His sodden wet robe dripped onto the cold stone floor. At this rate it seemed that Fenrisfjord would form beneath at his feet. He stood at the head of his crews quarters; A simple, secluded section of the abbey of Hati, where each crew could make merry and discuss matters away from the prying ears of other crews of the Order. Torches lined the walls on either side. A single oak table with a crude bench running down either side. A black tapestry with the white Fenrisulfr symbol. An ample supply of ale. Thorgrim raised his drinking horn and addressed the crew.
"Brothers, we have drank of the blood of our enemies!". A roaring cheer filled the quarters, shaking the ancient wooden beams above their heads. Thorgrim allowed himself to bask in the chaos for a few moments before nodding to Grom, his blood thirsty Sergeant at Arms. Grom had little use for words, his actions and his sheer physical presence spoke as thunder. He returned the nod before smashed his drinking horn onto the table, sending shattered fragments of wood and horn across its length. Silence followed.
"Our vengeance has been great, but our work is far from done," Thorgrim continued. "Thorkill's murderers still live. Brothers, we must learn the truth behind the deaths of our Captain and Wolf Father, and bring them the gift of cold steel." An ominous silence now fell over the hall. Thorgrim met the eyes of each man. Each returned his gaze. They feared no-one. Each had accepted death. Pledged their lives to the service of the grey wolf. The glory of the Order, was their immortality, for at Ragnarok each slain Brother would rise and take to the battlefield one last time, to fight alongside Fenris himself and slay the treacherous Aesir. Thorgrim looked down the line of their scarred faces and was satisfied. His crew were few, but they would be more than enough. Thorgrim drew the scram at his waist and held it to his left palm. He turned so he was facing the banner behind him and knelt. As he did so, he heard the sound of dozens of other scrams being drawn behind him. "I swear here before Fenris, that we this crew will avenge our fallen Captain and our Wolf Father! May those who oppose us feel our swords in their bellies!" With that Thorgim dragged the blade of his scram along his palm. He rose and turned to face his brothers, clenching his raised fist. He waited until the first drop of blood hit the floor, at which point a look of madness flashed his face in the form of a wicked grin. The flames from the torches dimmed for a second and flames danced across Thorgrims eyes.
"Tonight we drink to our dead". As he replaced his scram, he noticed the bloody handprints on each tankard and horn before each of his brothers.
He raised his horn once more;

"For Thorkill!"
"For Osric!"
"For Fenris!"

He pushed his way into a space at the bench and claimed a tankard of ale. In the dark shadows of the Alfheim Forest a distant echo could be heard.

"Axe, hammer, sword and sheild, the Brothers of Fenris never yield...

Olaf Gunnarson - The Order of Fenris.
May Fenris guide your hand.

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