Ragnar rammed his shoulder against the locked door, grunting with the effort. He thumped hard against the solid wood once, twice, and on the third it swung open with a bang and sent him nearly tumbling down onto his face. Herleif stepped into the dark room after him, his eyes quickly adjusting to the dim light that washed in through the open door, shield raised and sword ready for any Pyre Knight that may have been lurking within. There were none.
"This one looks empty too," Ragnar said as he took a look around.
Herleif nodded and walked closer to the nearest workbench to see what he might find. The room was empty, just like the last two they had checked. What remained of the Divine Pyre's forces were still out in the yard trying to hold their own against his warriors, but the forge was lost to them now even if they didn't know it yet. He had left the greater part of his warriors to deal with the last bit of resistance, while others branched off to begin scouring the forge for anything useful that they could take with them to the siege of the Walled City or back to their ships.
"Just more weapons," he said in a mildly disappointed tone, picking up a half finished sword not yet sharpened to examine before tossing it away.
"Weapons are good," answered Ragnar, looking over another workbench and eyeing a fine dagger before slipping it into his belt.
"We have enough weapons," muttered Herleif.
"You can never have enough weapons," Ragnar said assuredly, sliding a second dagger into his belt next to the first.
Helge stepped into the room next, followed by a couple spear-men who had to dip their weapons and broad shields to fit in through the doorway. The young Shaman glanced over the myriad of sharpened metal and beaten armor with a rather unimpressed sneer, like she had just been offered a lame horse already half in the grave to ride. "Even with all of this they could still not hold us back. Their God is weak," she glowered.
Herleif gave a small shrug of his shoulders as he walked further into the room. "We have Ragna, Skuld and Priscilla to thank for our victory here today," he said, hearing Helge spit at the Peacekeeper's name.
"I do not like that little woman," Helge said, who Herleif was pretty sure about the same height as Priscilla. "She lives and speaks in shadows. All of these Knights claim to live in the light of their mighty God, then hide their faces from the world behind metal. I do not trust anyone whose eyes I cannot see and whose neck I cannot bite."
Ragnar perked up from the rack of axes he was carefully examining. "What, do you mean like willingly, or..?"
"I mean," Helge smiled impishly, taking a few light steps over to Ragnar and stroking his beard beneath his chin. "How am I to know a person fully if I have never tasted them?" she purred.
"I'll give you something to taste..." Ragnar chuckled with a deep rumble from his throat, forgetting the bounty of axes and slipping his hands around Helge's hips to pull her in close.
"That is quite enough of that, thank you," Herleif cut in, eyeing the two overly familiar warriors. "If I have to come over there and separate you two, the only thing to do any tasting will be my sword nicking the both of your hides. Now everyone spread out and start looking for something useful." His warriors did as he commanded and spread out through the room, albeit Helge and Ragnar did so a bit more sullenly than the rest. Their mood soon improved though as Helge found a simple Lawbringer's helmet and slipped it over her head, the thing much to big for her as it wobbled about on her shoulders. She knocked her fists against it, making the hollow metal ring like a bell around her ears, laughing exuberantly like a child, drawing in Ragnar to join in on the fun.
"Harder!" she exclaimed, still laughing as she and Ragnar took turns making the helmet ring upon her head. "Hit it harder! If it rings loud enough maybe I will hear the Christ God talking to me like these fools claim." Ragnar withdrew an axe, held his tongue between his teeth while he took his aim, cocked back his arm and swung it as hard as if he was trying to cut down an enemy, the flat of his blade clanging sharply against Helge's armored head. The helmet rang out with the loudest hit yet, and she dropped like a stone plunged into the sea.
"Troll shit! Sorry," Ragnar hissed, freezing up for a moment before bending down to help Helge back up to her feet.
The helmet sat sideways on Helge's head, wobbling about as her knees shook. "I'm alright..." she groaned as Ragnar lifted the helmet up off of her, big blue eyes swimming in and out of focus.
Ragnar gave a couple snaps of his fingers in front of her nose, trying to get her to focus. "So? Did you hear the voice of the Christ God?" he asked.
"You know...I actually did..." Helge said, blinking quickly to clear her head.
Ragnar cocked a brow at that. "Well, what did he say?"
Helge tilted her head up against his shoulder as she looked up at him. "That your sister is the better fuck." She cackled loudly as he tossed her back to the ground.
Herleif watched all of this happen in the small room with his warriors present, and had to remove his helmet just to pinch the bridge of his nose as he sighed. "Æsir and Vanir give me strength," he muttered to himself.
His spear-men did their best to ignore Helge and Ragnar's antics, making their way around the benches and into other rooms that led off from the one they had entered. Herleif was beginning to lose hope that they would find anything of worth in this accursed forge, and that it would only amount to time and blood wasted. It would not do to let the Pyre hold a position behind their line during a siege of course, but it infuriated him to see just how easily they were dealt with by his warriors alone when everything else from their mad faith to their unbridled cruelty refused to yield. The Divine Pyre had power in these lands, he had witnessed that much for himself, but so far their forces had either been too few or too weak to stand against them.
It made him wonder why the legions of Ashfeld had simply abandoned their northern territories to these fanatics without much of a fight. Judith had said that it was out of fear of killing their countrymen and families, and of weakening their own forces, but there was nothing about these Pyre dogs that showed him they would ever stop at just the land they were given by some proclamation. These fools wanted to spread their creed and influence until everyone bowed before their holy mountain of fire, regardless of nation or belief. So what was Beaufort waiting for? How long before they decided to muster their legions and march north to deal with the Pyre like they should have done in the first place? And would he and the other Jarls still be here when they did?
It was an unpleasant thought, but movement from the doorway caught his attention before he could dwell on it any longer, and he looked to see Ragna and Skuld making their way into the room. They were blood splattered from their fighting, but that didn't stop Helge from jumping into Ragna's arms and kissing her face.
"Get away, girl," Ragna snarled, craning her head back from Helge's affections but refrained from actually pushing her away either. "I have a bone to pick with your bones, sending me on a fool mission like that through the rain and the dark. Your bones are as mad as you."
"It all worked out in the end," Helge said, snapping her teeth against the hard line of Ragna's jaw. "And you made some new friends along the way, yes?" Ragna chortled, and gave Helge's rump a swat to shoo the girl away before greeting Ragnar and touching their foreheads together.
Herleif stepped up to pat Ragna on the back and gave Skuld a welcoming smile. "Good job, the both of you. Without you we would still be outside those walls. Glad you managed not to kill the Peacekeeper either. I had my worries," he chuckled.
Helge rolled her eyes at the mention of Priscilla, but Ragna just smiled and shrugged. "She's not so bad I guess, when she's not being an insufferable cunt."
Herleif simply gave an amused hum in response, then looked to Skuld. "Any chance you might have...?" The silent Valkyrie patted the sheathed seax at her belt, and shook her head no. Herleif simply nodded, knowing better now than to question when or if the chance to see the soul of Ander Ottarson lifted up into Valhalla would ever come. If the gods willed it, it would be so.
"My Jarl, there is food in this next room," said one of the spear-men. "Wheat and barley by the looks of it."
Herleif came and leaned over the man's shoulder to peak into the next room, seeing the sacks of grain stacked on top of each other. But there was more as well. Crates of plowed up vegetables were piled against the far wall, potatoes, cabbages, carrots and more. He would hardly call it enough to be worthy of a feast at his great hall, but not knowing how long they might sit outside the high walls of the Walled City it was a true bounty.
"Perfect," he smiled, clapping the spear-man's shoulder. "This is exactly what we need. Make sure it is all brought out and prepared for the journey to Mount Ignis. This will help keep our bellies full if we need to starve the Pyre out from behind their walls."
"Boring!" called out Helge, and she stuck out her tongue and struck a sour note like the sound of a wet fart.
Herleif ignored her, and the spear-man moved to go and fetch more men to see that his orders were carried out. Just as he left the room though another figure appeared outside the door, a hulking shape of armor silhouetted by the gray light outside. He had to dip his head in order to fit the fanned ornament of metal feathers atop his helmet beneath the door, and Herleif recognized him as Judith's own Lion Flame Lawbringer. "Jarl Herleif," he began, stopping short of entering the room fully when he caught sight of a Shaman, two Berserkers and a Valkyrie all giving him an evil eye. "Lady Judith requests your assistance at the mines. The last of the Pyre usurpers are held up inside with what is left of the hostages, and your warriors are wanting to attack. She is having difficulties getting them to hold."
"Thor's balls," Herleif cursed, nodding and heading for the door. "Skuld, you come with me. You three stay here and help move the food." A thought crossed his mind then, and he turned back to Helge, Ragna and Ragnar before he stepped outside after the Lawbringer. "Best leave something behind for the people here," he said, fingers curling in his beard as he thought things out. "Better to plan for that now rather than get scolded by Judith later."
Ragna gave a harsh snort of laughter. "Are you serious? Why do you care what that tin woman thinks?"
"I care even less for you questioning my decisions, Ragna." Herleif said as he rounded on her. "See that it is done, and make sure the people here get their share." Ragna didn't look to be pleased to be rebuked so openly, but she kept her mouth shut and cast her gaze down to her feet.
Herleif made to leave with Skuld, but Ragnar piped up next, his timid voice reminding Herleif of when one of his children wanted a treat from the kitchens long before dinner was served. "What about the all these weapons?" he asked. "It would be a shame to just leave them here all unattended and forgotten."
"A shame," Helge repeated with Ragna nodding along next to her.
Herleif stopped with a sigh, glancing back over his shoulder as the trio stared back at him with their sorry-looking faces. He had just chastised Ragna in defense of a Knight, so he couldn't very well bring himself to tear them down again. "Take only what you need," he relented, taking a moment to point a stern finger at each of them. "I mean it." The last thing he saw before he left the room was the wolf's grin spreading across each of their lips, and their happy laughter following after him out the door.
"Well," said Ragnar, clapping his hands and rubbing them together once Herleif and Skuld were gone. "Which ones do you hear calling out to us to be saved?" he grinned.
"Oh, I hear all of them." Helge smiled, stepping over to a bench and picking up a shining sword that was as tall as she was, bracing her legs to lift and balance it in the air. "They all call out so desperately. Please Ragnar! Please Ragna! We do not wish to be left all alone!"
Ragna picked up a knife and gave it a flip in her hand, then set the tip to balancing on her finger. "What kind of noble warriors would we be if we did not come to their much needed rescue? If we save one, surely we must save them all."
"All of them?" Ragnar asked his sister, already slipping a third dagger into his belt.
Ragna nodded, picking up a poleaxe next and swinging her leg around it as if mounting a horse. "It's only fair."
Helge smiled, letting the giant sword drop with a clang and taking up the Lawbringer's helmet she had worn. She turned it upside down like a bowl and moved down the line of work benches like she was at the summer market, her fingers wiggling in the air before making her selection. "Aye. All of them."