Madness Combat: Aggregation

Forward-dated to 6/12/22

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After several days of healing up and several more of travel, the pair had finally arrived at Northfall, where Kuhn resided. Staying in Duskguard was an option, but Hank wasn't a fan of the whole "constant threat of starving" thing so far up north. Plus, he and the tiger were allies now, and if he wanted to make the most of this relationship (the one where he had a huge powerhouse of a cat on his side), it was more convenient to live in the same quarters. See? He was capable of thinking ahead sometimes!

They stopped at the border, its odor no less repulsive than Duskguard's. Actually, it was way worse, with a large variety of scents melding together. He could tell all these people apart by their pee? Gross. He hadn't thought to ask what Northfall was like (so much for thinking ahead), so this told him Duskguard was tiny in comparison.

All there was to do now was ring the doorbell, which, as Hank had learned, was one's own vocal chords. Wolves were renowned for howling, but he'd never actually tried doing it before. Shifting on his feet, he suddenly felt... uncomfortable for some reason. He glanced at @Kuhn by his side before turning back to the mountainous expanse ahead.

Stop being weird, he chided himself. He needed to get used to this eventually. Taking a deep breath, he filled his lungs with air and then released it, cupping his lips in a "U" shape. Of its own accord, his head tossed back, and he closed his eyes. Raspy in its uncertainty at first, the call smoothed out as he allowed himself to become absorbed in the task. Deep and vaguely haunting, Hank's howl bounced in-between the rocky peaks, filling the valley until it tapered off into silence. He lowered his head, feeling quite proud of himself. That felt good. No wonder dogs loved doing it so much. It was then he realized his tail was waving.

What a dork.

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Taking the man to Northfall was the least he could do after sinking his claws into the man.  Having made the trip many times before it was simple to guide the 'assassin' here. The big cat still felt like he owed him though.  Still something about this guy was easy to get along with, he was stable, nonreactive, and somehow lighthearted; all good traits to have in a companion out in the harsh tundra, and not a terrible person to owe a favor to.  The cat told himself that: he wouldn't totally mind seeing him around again.

Walking up to Ragnar's realm, Kuhn did see that Hank almost shuffled to a stop.  The man looked to the cat like he wanted to try it this time.  Subtly shrugging, Kuhn waited until the man worked up the courage to do that sound that wolves made.  Ears pinned themselves to the back of the cat's skull as the sound went off so close to his ears.  Tail lashed as the tiger was forced to listen, hunching over his posture.  The noise was rough at first, but after a moment Hank seemed to have it just right.  Still better than a tiger could do. 

Knowing enough about canines at this point, the tiger eyed the wagging tail, he chuffed to return the gesture, lettings out a sonorous puff of air.  It could be a minute before anyone would come down here so this would be a good time to ask.  "So... what are those things on your head?", cocking his head, the cat was curious; never having seen anything like this before. Save for a somewhat similar looking thing on that mountain cat @benry.
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^^

She wasn't out of commission just because she was pregnant but it did make her feel less inclined to do anything -- yet here she was, once more sauntering towards a call. Wolf and feline, she noted, one in particular familiar as she recalled him in the caves. The Goddess did nothing to rush, instead going at a leisurely pace as she drew closer. The days were different in her pregnancy, some days she was feeling less than great and others she was feeling atop the world -- the latter being her mood on that day.

Lucky for them.


It was the tiger and he had not come alone, accompanied by a wolf slathered in greys and blacks but what was strange were the goggles he bore. Freya wondered of his humanity, for they were human items yet he was clearly a wolf. A human before he woke up here, she suspected and one of his earthly possessions had followed suit. "Kuhn," she purred delightedly, giving a wag of her tail as she saw the feline who, like last time she had seen him, carried fresher wounds. Freya would tut, "you are trouble," it was playful as it left her, a soft laugh ringing through her words as she looked him over. He had clearly been tended to so she was not overly worried. 

"And you bring a friend," Freya allowed her bicoloured gaze to drift towards the man at his side, canine and human all at once. "Who is as much trouble as you, it would seem," for he too held fresh, tended to wounds. Oh, the feisty men of this world were delightful. ^^

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Kuhn let out a raspy puff of air Hank took to be a good thing. He grinned— something he was very appreciative of being able to do again.

It looked like they'd be waiting a while, so Kuhn took the opportunity to inquire about the apparatus on his face. Hank was surprised he hadn't asked sooner. It was easy for him to forget they were even there, with how he always wore them. “They're goggles,” He began, bringing a paw up to feel them. Their presence on him was comforting; they were essentially a part of him, at this point. “They protect your eyes. Probably the only reason I haven't gone blind yet,” Hank morbidly jested.

Footsteps neared the dynamic duo, drawing his attention back to the territory. A pastel woman with hazel eyes who was clearly pregnant (weirdly common around these parts) had come to greet them. "Kuhn... you are trouble. And you bring a friend who is as much trouble as you, it would seem," She said playfully, not at all perturbed by Hank's presence nor the sorry state they both were in. Hank smirked, his tail falling into its rhythmic wagging again.

“Like two peas in a pod,” He mused. “The name's Hank. I was looking to join your pack.” He wondered if there was some kind of initiation process, or if he'd have to answer a bunch of questions like a job interview. But that's all he would say until prompted.

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Cocking his head, he listened to the explanation on what 'goggles' are.  That seemed somewhat familiar as if in a past life he had seen something like that before.  Reaching forward whiskers hinted at the fact that Kuhn really wanted to touch them.  

Before he could ask, the pair where greeted by the magnificent Freya.  Chuffing as she approached, he was happy to see the woman.  She was one of many that he owed a great deal to.  Her playful jesting made the tiger smile,  he was unable to hold eye contact for a moment, blushing beneath his fur; he knew he was trouble.    "Freya...", he greeted with a dip of his head, listening to Hank's light-hearted banter. 

Still holding his grin, "So I guess Hank is looking to join your pack...", he repeated dryly, partially surprised, this was the first he heard of this until now.
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^^

Kuhn was certainly a man Freya would never mind the company of, the feline quite different from the wolves yet the same in some manner. It was interesting and he had proven thus far he was worthy of her time whenever he had it. Their interactions not too high yet she thought of him friendly, happy to see him whenever he might stop by. Her smile blossomed into an amused smirk as he downcast his eyes, her name on his lips and she giggled softly, endeared.

Her bicoloured gaze would drift to his wolf counterpart who spoke his name, Hank, his desire clear as he spoke it. Freya peered to Kuhn for a moment, had he spun the tales of glory to the goggled-wolf and it had spurred him to join them? She hummed, not fussed either way but admittedly she hadn't any power to admit anyone into the ranks of Northfall. "Well," the goddess purred, "if it were up to me, darling, you would be admitted in a heartbeat." Playfully did she wink, cocking her head to the side as she wagged her tail.

"That decision will be up to my lovely @Ragnar, King of Northfall," she cooed. Freya would tilt her head back and sing her song, summoning the King to her side. She would see no reason as to why he would be denied, Ragnar would likely be curious if Hank was indeed as she thought, a human before he was a wolf with those goggles of his. Ragnar liked the different, their lives curious to him. ^^

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It was the voice of Freya which summoned him and Ragnar was no idiot to keep a beautiful woman waiting, especially one that may very well be carrying some of his pups.... Especially one that brought his attention to the border and especially one that just so happened to wear the crown of Goddess time and time again.

So the golden king made head way and when be arrived he was greeted by a trio: Freya, of course, Kuhn and a stranger at his side. “Ah, welcome, bloody stranger!” He beamed and came to stand at the side of the large woman with a relaxed confidence as he looked between Kuhn and... whoever this guy was. “A want to keep our medics busy, I see?” He says with a laughter and then lands his focus upon Hank. “Ragnar Stormborn, at your service.” And there he leaves a playful smile and expectant stare.
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Kuhn sounded somewhat surprised Hank wanted to join Northfall. He raised his brow at the tiger— smirk withstanding— though he doubted the other man saw it. Why else would he have come all the way here? Sure, he wasn't the most social guy on the planet, but Hank was at least smart enough to understand the benefits of cooperation. Well, he could've been more vocal about it, but... see the previous sentence on that one.

Freya flirted freely with him while mentioning who was clearly her partner in the same breath, which baffled Hank's little brain. Maybe it was some kind of open relationship, which wasn't something he wanted to get wrapped up in— especially so early on here in this place, this world. The important part was that she was keen on having him. His tail picked up in its rhythmic swinging, now in time with hers. A pleased look was plastered on his face. Freya called for the man in question, who was quick to arrive on the scene. Ragnar, a large man dirty blonde in color, greeted him amicably. “A want to keep our medics busy, I see?” He jested with a belly-laugh. Hank chuckled.

“It's what I'm good at,” He replied lightheartedly, cogs turning in his head. There it was again, that... impression of someone he couldn't put a finger on. Someone who often complained that he kept them busy with patching him up. Ragnar's semi-formal introduction shook him from his musing. So wolves could also have full names... interesting.

“Hank J. Wimbleton,” He returned with a nod. Ragnar seemed easy to get along with. That boded well. “I'd like to join your ranks, if you'll have me. Got years of combat experience under my belt I'm willing to lend.” And he'd prove it right here right now, if need be.

Wait, did wolves know what belts were? Probably not. Ah well.

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It was surprising that Hank wanted to join up with a pack so quickly, but it looked like it was meant to be.  Freya had her usual smooth sense of humor, which seemed oddly suggestive to the newcomer.  The cat wasn't entirely able to hide his entertainment at the subtle comment, looking down at his feet and smirking. 

When Ragnar showed up it seemed even more meant to be, as the two men played at that braggadocios and smooth sense of humor that the wolves of Northfall seemed to have.  Looking out at the near mountains, the cat dedicated a cupped ear to listen passively to the chatter of the Northfall wolves.  He had a feeling Hank would be right at home here. 

Skip him if you want, he is zoning out

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Permission given to skip Freya this round.

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Hank J. Wimbleton. It wasn't particularly a name from the north, ad far ad Ragnar was aware. 'Wimbleton' definitely sounded like an odd family name but Ragnar wouldn't have ever picked up it was a human name. Yes, what was a belt, anyway? And what was that odd contraption on his head? Ragnar was curious but did not attempt to pry, not now at least. Ragnar would only assume now that this one was from a far off land, perhaps even far different then most.

“Well if fighting is your thing, you've come to the right place. Many of us here love a good challenge and having more guards on patrol can't hurt.” Then, a side glance to Kuhn and back to Hank here. “Has Kuhn already filled you in on our problem with our island neighbors?” Hank said he liked to fight but if he was willing to get involved in a full blown out war, well, that was another story.

If they were lucky, they all could get out of it without too much bloodshed. Then again, Ragnar doubted their Alpha was sorry enough for what she did to offer herself up willingly. If Ragnar was a betting man (and he was), Vendrussel would use everyone in her pack (and Ragnar's allies apparently) as a shield to keep from getting what was coming to her.
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“Well if fighting is your thing, you've come to the right place. Many of us here love a good challenge and having more guards on patrol can't hurt.”

Hank had hit the jackpot, it seemed. He didn't believe in fate, but being here felt like it was meant to be. “Sounds good to me,” He said casually, only his tail betraying his enthusiasm (again).

“Has Kuhn already filled you in on our problem with our island neighbors?” Hank turned to look at Kuhn as a means of rousing his hippocampus. No, he wasn't aware of any inter-pack conflicts— and he would have absolutely remembered if he'd been told about it. Looking back at Ragnar, he shook his head. The topic certainly piqued his interest— he was a war dog, after all— but it wouldn't deter him from wanting to join. In fact, it only made the assassin more interested in joining.

Hank didn't care about right and wrong; only the heat of battle and the thrill of the kill mattered. He left the philosophy to thinking types. Like... someone he knew intimately before. The same 'someone' that itched his brain when he was at Duskguard to receive medical aid. Some subconscious part of his brain linked the two reminders together, hooked to one source. In his mind's eye, he saw the outline of the figure but couldn't make out the features. Right on the tip of his tongue, but out of reach for now.

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Spacing out, staring over the treeline, the cat heard mention of his name.  Snapping back into the conversation, his head pivoted back.  

Because he wasn't paying full attention it took him a moment to put the pieces together in reverse. Pulling his tail in close around his own hips he just sat there for a moment as Hank stared at him.  

They where talking about the Dragonford thing.  Shrugging his packed shoulders, his ears pivoted back.  His expression was basically meant as an mild apology.  The topic really just never came up.  

Figuring that he should pay more attention, he leaned back into the conversation, both ears now attentive.
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An agreement, then a silence, a shaking of the wolf's head. They both looked to Kuhn, a shrug- oops. Welp.

Ragnar turned to Hank, a sheepish gaze and shrug of his own. “We are at war with the pack of wolves on the islands south of us. We'll, mainly at war with their Alpha.” He corrected, for the both of their packs were very small when this started. There might even be a chance some of her members knew not the details of what the hell was going on. “We want her dead, a debt owned after murdering my little girl...” He murmurs, icy eyes shifting to Kuhn who had been given much more detail on the manner.

“So,” His chin tipped up, looking Hank over once more. “You still in?”
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“We want her dead, a debt owned after murdering my little girl...” Hank listened with wide-eyed intent. Murdering a kid was pretty fucked, even for his standards.

“That can be arranged,” He said with a lick of his nose, letting the obvious implication linger in the air. He'd assassinated plenty of figureheads before, and he was more than willing to do it again. “'Course I'm in. I think I'll be right at home.”

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The cat didn't initially feel like it was his place to share this fact about Northfall.  In fact he was surprised when the wolf was quick to want to join.  If he would have known that, he would have the story on the way over here.  The way Ragnar put the tale was short simple and concise, to which Kuhn would return a nod of agreement.  Though it lacked the nuance of the seaward leader's remorse, there was nothing wrong with the statement.  She had murdered Ragnar's little girl, and the right of vengeance belonged squarely in Ragnar's jaws.  

Curiously, Hank didn't skip a beat. Nor did he ask any questions. Though, the cat agreed with Ragnar's rightful fury, the cat's eyes narrowed at Hank only for a moment.  For someone perceptive, it would be obvious that Kuhn disapproved of Hank's lack of curiosity before willingly lending a fang.  

Luckily the northern leader was no liar.  But if he was, Hank might just believe and act on whatever he was told.
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Last for me! Welcome Hank!

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It was not exactly the first time someone of a bit questionable mortals or a much rougher edge had found a home within Northfall. Ghidorah, Leviathan and Loki, to name a few... Not many within the northern home could be considered innocent, but what mattered most was that they were loyal and protective of their own.

The tables could have easily been turned, had Hank made it to the doorstep of their enemy first. Luckily for Northfall, this was not the case.

“Good then.” Ragnar spoke with a toothy grin and then turned his direction to Kuhn. “I'm sure you wouldn't mind showing him around, hu?” But before Kuhn could do any objecting, Ragnar was proding the rounded belly of Freya, urging her to walk with him.
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