A Ballot of the Wolf and Merc | Ubbe Ragnarsson FanFic

A Wolf's Lament and a Varagian's Revenge

Galled by the audacity of the entire town, Eleri was flustered when she couldn't even lift a half full drink off a drunken patron in the tavern. Not recalling her for the bar fight she ignited the evening before, the lot of drunkards only booed and pushed her out for the distasteful reaction to their returning King. Eleri craved to get up on a stool and ranted objectfully on their so called King. But she found it would be in vain, no one listening to her even as they bustled and shoved her out of the tavern.

"Drunken cur!" Eleri hacked up another luge, this time for the slammed shut door behind the tavern. Spitting the white globe on the closed door gave her some satisfaction but still left the woman alcohol-less.

Groaning loudly Eleri reached up and ground her fists into her weary eyes, "This fucking day," She cursed the entire existence of the last twelve hours under her breathe. Grumbling she turned halfway before peaking out of the corner of her eye a wooden box that looked suspectingly still sealed.

Taking a gander around Eleri assured she had in fact been ditched before slithering over to the large crate. Observing each side for a identifiable mark of product. Eleri saw no branding but upon giving it a gentle rock the woman heard a clink of glasses.

"Jackpot," euphoric about her find Eleri did not care what was in there, she only hoped it would knock her on her ass after a half a dozen drinks.

Fetching her dagger from the small hilt in her buckle, Eleri jabbed it under the lip of the crate until it was wedged tightly in there. One more look around for her criminal activity to stay in the clear. And she jerked down in one swift motion.

Cranking open the case and giving her enough wiggle room to fish out one bottle to see what it was. Grasping for the first bottle neck she could Eleri pulled it out with care only to be delighted to see it was a crate full of the taverns regulary stocked brew.

"Hah!" Eleri snorted at the door she'd been tossed out, "Guileful pigs! Look who's lucky now." Taunting no one but the back of the building Eleri was hasty to wrap up her gloating and return to pilfering what she wanted.

Striking the top off of one capped goodness, Eleri through her first bottle back in a matter of gulps. Disgusting and a little warm but she didn't care at this point. Quenching her thirst of blacking out the chain of events leading up to her pity party behind Kattegat's tavern Eleri's first goal above all else.

Still sharp with her wits Eleri knew hanging around behind back and stealing the brew down her gullet wasn't a brilliant idea. Instead she probed around to safeguard her loneliness before taking her next course of action. Which was to gather up as many clanking bottles as possible and shuffle off with them anywhere but here.

Grabbing wildly Eleri successfully stacked nine bottle with care in precarious angles in her arms. One of course, the tenth, an opened one she balanced between the sweet nectar of the remaining nine. Happy with her luggage Eleri tip toed away from the tavern. Rearing her head back to make sure no one was following her and then also checking the cross street before darting to the next sheltered building. Hoping between shadows, swigging down more mead as she went and hushing the cinching bottles each time they moved against her bosom.

The waxing moon was nearing it's blossom into a full moon above Kattegat. Ubbe glanced up at the night sky, vacant of stars except those furthest away from the gleaming orb. The next night he knew a full moon was entailed for his home. Beside aiding in the shifting month, Ubbe thanked the waxing moon for the blue cast of light it gave his world below. The hunt for Eleri deep in Kattegat's night life eased with the beacon of Máni's moon.

In a fleeting thought Ubbe wondered of what gods Eleri may believe in. Christianity on the rise Ubbe acknowledged the southern may not hold his old nordic beliefs. Less of an important question than the pressing one concerning his father, Ubbe still made a mental check mark to weave it in sometime out of curiosity.