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Magnus had mixed feelings about this area. They were certainly more free with displays of violence, which meant he could blow off some steam here, it was also very cold and he had had enough of being uncomfortably cold in his life. Still, the exercise was keeping him warm enough, and his position made procuring a warm fur coat all too easy. For the moment he was awaiting his next fight, the unicorn watching the show to see who the best fighters were. If he could get them on his side, he could make good use of them in the future. Currently, it was a bit of a one-sided match as a cocky, spear-wielding earth pony was mopping the floor with his opponent. How that pony wasn’t freezing in nothing but pants he may never know, but he seemed to have found a good candidate already if that attitude didn’t drive him crazy. Magnus sighed softly to himself from a seat in the stands, coat wrapped around him and sword hidden within, watching the proceedings with an outward appearance of mostly apathy. Most of these competitors were not that impressive, honestly.
Hooves stomping to the drummer's beat, horns blaring and crowds screaming as steels clashed. The arenas of Saarvagerg were busy as ever as a larger crowd gathered around one of the smaller public arenas. It was a open arena, no real guidelines given. Just a free for all brawl zone to sort out troubles. That was until one cow arrived. For the past two hours she carved a path around the arena taking on everything in it with utter disregard for how many rushed her and yet she came out on top using nothing more than her hooves. The cheering was reaching deafening levels as she bucked a bull so hard he shot over the arena wall. All around her the deaten, many out cold or rolling in pain on the muddy floor. The cow was shorter than most caribou yet her strength bested many bulls bigger than her. Her frame mached her strength with clear muscle mass underneath her hide and fur that was ashy white. She had a black mane done up in a mohawk with purple highlights. Her eyes were a crisp ice blue with a long jagged scar over her right eye that looked like lighting built. She was wearing black platemail covered her more vital organs but left the rest wide open to cut down on weight in a “all or nothing” take on self defense. Her weapons were nothing more than her four hooves reinforced with some black steel to be used in blocking blows. Standing on top of a whimpering bull twice her size the cow looks up at the onlookers, grinning ear to ear. She was not even panting yet. Yet she did not speak. Not one word left her muzzle in all of the combat. She waves a hoof at the onlookers, than aimed it at her self, dearing more to come down and take her on as they chanted the name given to her by onlookers. Silent Lightning, given thanks to her face scar and utter lack of speaking. But this was no cow. She was tempest. Thanks to the magic of Masquerade and his one of a kind disguises she looked complenty like a caribou even up close. The custom outfit cost so much she had to lone Bits from Ice just to pay for it! AND was going to need to do some… ‘work’ for Masquerade on top of it. But it was all worth it. The magic and skill in its making masked her flawlessly. She was for all it was worth a full blooded caribou when inside of it. But one thing it can’t mask was her accent and lack luster understanding of the caribou language. Well she had what she needed too get by and understand most things speaking it was another story. So to cover her flank she pretend to be mute and let her acts speak for her. ((This RP contants tempest in a magic disguse bult by Masquerade, as such she looks like a female caribou. If you don't know about Masquerade or his costumes read his app! it's vary usefull. The only thing that knows tempest is here or owns that costume is Ice her self.))
By the time all the invitations were sent out, the event was no longer very much of a surprise. It was no secret that Chieftain Sigrun of Clan Askr and Vakstyra Halvard of Clan Breen had hit it off very well ever since their first meeting in the Saarvergerg Arena, and fast became more than friends. The fact that their homeland was split by a civil war, however, intruded inevitable delays on anything official. Not to mention the somewhat complicated politics involving Clan Breen’s public neutrality in the matter of the war, while Sigrun and Clan Askr were very much on the side of the Loyalists. Many tedious months of politics later, however, and Halvard had finally managed to shift his Clan’s position, and considerable resources, behind the King’s cause. As these were not inconsiderable in amount, the ceremony itself would be made a fairly extravagant affair, the marriage of the two now seen as a symbol and lynchpin of their clan’s alliance. Which meant, of course, that their wedding was now further delayed by the amount of planning that had to go into it… *Good thing I’ve never been one to shy away from logistics.* Halvard mused, smiling as he completed the last double-check of the mead supply. Sigrun wasn’t one for fancy and frou-frou, thank the gods, but an abundance of guests required an abundance of food, drink, and space. Running his eyes over the hall, and comparing the numbers on their guest list, he pursed his lips. *Well…. Two out of three isn’t bad. Hope the foreign guests don’t mind the crush.* At least the native guests wouldn’t. After all, it isn’t a party until everybou’s up in each other’s faces! Whether from joy or fighting really depended on the mood and the mead. Hopefully, this all wouldn’t be too much… ~~~ While Caribou weddings weren’t exactly the same ceremony as one generally saw in the southern lands, there was a general commonality between them, in that the groom and bride didn’t come alone. Each would bring either a close relation, or a close friend, representing all the relationships surrounding the pair that would intertwine. Halvard had thought long and hard about who he would bring, but ultimately settled on what he felt was the best, and only choice. “Are you ready, Calder?” The bull called out to the one whom he had come to think of as a son. This was not a trivial question, as the younger bull had many quite legitimate reasons for being nervous about publicly appearing back in Whitescar. Halvard had strongly encouraged him to come out with him, though; partly for his own good, to face and conquer the demons of his memory, at least in some ways. The other reason, however, was one he wouldn’t say to his adopted son, as it had to do, again, with the politics of the situation. Calder wasn’t exactly a stereotypical bull, in many ways, but Halvard felt that what he himself was fighting this civil war for was to make a place for caribou like his son. This was a public show of solidarity for the family, and the gods have mercy on any who’d have a problem with it!
The Will Test: the trial that all caribou living the viking life must face when they come of age. It is the ultimate judge of a young buck or calf’s fate. Should one pass the final challenge, they earn the opportunity to earn future glory in battle and other cherished pursuits. Meanwhile, those who fail are destined to remain in the shadows of caribou society forever, forgotten to the shadows. Or so the stories say, anyway. Naturally, Lími was a nervous wreck in the days leading up to his Will Test. As someone without much natural talent in the ways of combat, the adolescent boy had never really saw himself as viking material. Especially when he has stood in the shadows of great warriors like Jarl Sigrun and his elder half-brother. Compared to them, Lími was a virtual weakling. What chance did an untested boy like him have of successfully braving the Southern Wilds and retrieving the flower required for passing this foreboding rite of passage? Despite all of Jarl Sigrun’s mentoring and assurances, Lími still didn’t feel he was truly ready even as he stood in the shadow of the great Ice Wall isolating the cursed Wilds from the rest of Whitescar. Sigrun alone accompanied the adolescent bull from Askr all the way down south to the Wall, and here, she would have to leave her charge behind to face his Will Test. Lími would have to go on alone past the Wall, without any equipment to assist him in dealing with any potential obstacles or threats. Thus it was no surprise that for a long while, the lad stood in place as he gazed upon the ominous Wall, not daring to glance at the small hidden exit leading to the Wilds beyond.....