[Game Thread] Chapter 1 | +ULFBERH+T

[mountainbound]

Kjersti sits quietly as her companions speak. She chews on Savriel's bread mechanically, washing it down with water as instructed. If I do what I'm told...

After battle, she usually has a good cry, but it wouldn't do, especially around the vikings. So, stomach more settled, the paladin takes back her axe from Sven. "You know how to sharpen an axe. It hasn't been properly seen to since my husband died." It was true, the blade was in rough shape from being dragged behind Kjersti for the better part of a year. If it didn't weigh so much, it probably wouldn't cut butter. Now it was clean and sharp. Somehow, that meant something.

And after all the battles she had been through since her husband died, she never remembered any of them. Except that she remembered the dwarf's head bouncing through the bracken today. That meant something too. She just wasn't sure what.

[Numen Wraith]

"I can sharpen about ant weapon but a hammer, Miss." Sven remarked. "That axe... The way you drag it around. It confuses me sometimes. You can barely carry it... Most of the time, anyway. You don't take care of it properly... And yet it must be important to you. You could easily find something lighter." for a moment, he wasn't sure if he was being offensive or nice, so he decided to make it definitive. "I could show you how to care for the blade, if you like."

[mountainbound]

What Sven said was right: she didn't care for the axe. She hated it, in fact. "I treat it like he treated me," she says softly. "The blade was my husband's. He was a viking warrior, like you. After he was killed, they dumped him and that axe on my kitchen floor. That's when Fjorgyn commanded me to fight... for her." An uncharacteristic bitterness creeps into her voice. "Though it's usually the Lady who does the fighting, not me. She bade me take up his axe and no other blade, and so I must. But She didn't teach me to hone it. I guess a goddess don't worry about details like that."

It was an odd comfort to speak with Sven. Could be because his usual demeanor reminded her of her husband. Or perhaps she was feeling impertinent toward her Lady. Over the past few nights, Savriel had whispered to her what had happened in the inn -- filling in the details that Fionn omitted about when the goddess appeared and spoke to Sven. Clearly Fjorgyn held a grudge against the viking, but Kjersti did not.

In response to his offer to care for the blade, she says: "I would like that."

[Numen Wraith]

Sven was confounded at first. He had assumed that the axe was a memorial for her husband, but Kjersti made it sound like a burden. Most outstanding in his mind was the fact that she said the treatment of an item that was literally dragged through the mud on a daily basis. To him, that was unacceptable. His face froze somewhere between shock and pity. By the time she responded to his offer, he was flabbergasted. "I... Ok. Tomorrow night, your lessons begin." He forced out a cough before turning to Savriel. "What is there to eat tonight?"

[Jeigh]

Orjan Erlandson With the river skiff successfully moored and the bodies of the fallen raiders looted, an exhausted Orjan climbs back up the bank to the others who have begun setting up camp. With an armful of swords, the veteran is about to call out to his blood brother, yet pauses as Sven comes into sight. Odd.. He notes Sven and Kjersti immediately, also noticing something very significant about the way the two interact. That's certainly different. More than a little shocked, Orjan lets the two finish their talk for the time being. His eyes turn next to Savriel. "It'll serve its purpose, though I'm not making any promises about the smell," he calls, nodding his head towards the boat. Earnestly, he tries to make the statement as much a jest as possible, but with the day's events weighing heavily on him, it comes out a bit more gloomy than he intended. Crossing the camp, Orjan lets down the load of swords that Sven had gathered in a noisy clatter. I know Sven lost his sword recently... But he should know better than to take so many of these, he thinks. In Viking culture, it is believed that part of the soul is kept within the items and tools of a man's daily life. A hunter's bow, tanner's knife, and cook's kettle all carry some small part of their owner with them, even after their death. Although it may seem a strange superstition, most Vikings believe that such important possessions should be buried with the bearer or destroyed upon their death, lest the true owner choose to come back for their worldly possessions. And so, without consulting the other members of the party, Orjan begins the arduous process of heating, then bending the swords before burying them near the raiders.

[Darkling]

Savriel an Ael'syl Sven's wink is enough to confirm for Savriel that he doesn't need any healing, from herself or from Kjersti, and she gives him a small smile and a nod. As Kjersti strikes up a conversation with the man, however, she finds herself glancing between the pair with an odd look on her face. She doesn't disapprove, but it's easy to see that she's rather mindful of any interest that a man takes in the lady that she's meant to be the social guardian of, and she gives Kjersti a few more reassuring pats on the back as she speaks of her late husband. "Long as it sails, I suppose, Captain Orjan!" She says with a bright grin in response to the older viking's assessment of the ship, either trying to cheer his mood a little, or reaffirming her belief in the man as the leader of the motley group. Then again, it might simply be deferring to his expertise on the waterways, but the girl's never made it easy to read her intentions. At Sven's mention of dinner, Savriel clicks her tongue, rustling through her enchanted pack and withdrawing some small parcels of rations. "Salted pork, actually, along with some dried fruits for dessert. Stoke the fire and I'll get it warmed up, and add some extra seasoning." The girl says with a coy wink, and indeed seems to be getting ready to warm the meals for everyone to eat as she withdraws some , happy that Kjersti's stomach and countenance has settled somewhat. She'll have to thank Sven for his moments of kindness later, she wagers, but she's not really sure how - he's not the most approachable of men. The girl prides herself in having some talent when it comes to cooking and meals, and while she would never say she's a professional, she's able to make them palatable and nutritious and that's a blessing of itself. Of course, the halfbreed tempers her average cooking with the help of seasoning of mundane and magical varieties, using her spellcasting to alter the taste to something more readily appreciated. It turns awful meals passable, and passable ones enjoyable, and Savriel is fine for that to remain a 'trade secret' so to speak. Especially from the vikings, all things considered, but what they don't know won't hurt them, and there's hardly a magical taint to flavouring one's pork to taste...well, like pork. The girl busies herself in her work, and after just under a half hour's preparation, she begins doling out meat on small wooden plates from a mess kit similarly stored in her near-endless pack. It's juicy, tender, and after Savriel's subtle alterations, a good and tasty meal without being overwhelmed by the salt that was placed to preserve it. It won't win any awards, but it's at least better than strictly eating trail rations for two weeks.

[Digorig]

Current Data Location: East shore near Agoir Date: Sunna’s Day, Ostara 7 Time: Evening Weather: Cold and clear, 40ᵒ

By the time it was too dark to see, the camp was set and a fire going. A tad bit difficult in the snow, but that seemed to be tapering off, not really any left on the ground. Some pork was cooked and everyone had their share as the Vikings and their friends talked to one another.

The night wore on and soon it was time to sleep. A rough watch schedule was chosen and besides the first, everyone went to find a tent and a blanket or two for the cold night ahead.

Current Data Location: East shore near Agoir Date: Manis Day, Ostara 8 Time: Morning Weather: Cold with clouds, 35ᵒ

The morning brought a bitter cold from the southern breeze coming from Niflheim, yet still no snow had remained on the ground, but a layer of frost did. The fire was low but still lit, kept by the watches as much for warmth as for light. With the new day arrived, decisions were needed to be made as they prepared to once more head towards Hefn.

[Numen Wraith]

Early the next morning, Sven was up and had his gear gathered. He gave his whistle a blow. Hilda showed up and he gave her a good rub in all her favourite spots. Making her feel comfortable, he led her onto the boat and spent some time settling her down. By the time the others were getting up and moving about, Sven had Command: Lay still

Dice Handle Animal:

d20+13

(20)+13

Total = 33

done his best to get her to lay still..

[mountainbound]

Kjersti tries to sit as far away from the bear in the boat as possible. She holds tight to Magnbjǫrn, keeping the wolfhound from moving about too much as the small and wobbly craft slowly creeps down the river.

[Darkling]

Savriel an Ael'syl Savriel is quick to pack up camp, making sure everyone's getting their share of breakfast (just trail mix and bread, unfortunately for the meat lovers), eager to see what travelling with the group by boat will be like. She'd spent a good deal of the night before scribbling in her journal, no doubt recounting the exploits for further telling and singing, and she glances at each of her companions with a smile at certain points - presumably noting something about their respective prowess. In the morning light, when she has a moment and the men are loading a few things aboard the boat, she seems to be wistfully flipping through the pages and double checking her work with the occasional adjustment. "I'll have to try this one out at Hefn, when we get there!" she exclaims brightly, then glances at Orjan with a small smile. "Long as you'll keep an eye out for me, anyway." She remarks sidelong, and though the bardess seems to fear little in the way of social situations, she has some apprehensions when it comes to human settlements. She prefers them, but not when travelling alone, that much she's decided. She clambers aboard the boat, taking a seat close to Kjersti, wanting to keep equal distance from the bear. Though she doesn't admit it, the bardess is clearly a bit afraid of the beast, glancing at the oars. "Uh, do you want me to help you row, gentlemen?" She asks the two vikings, offering some assistance, knowing it might be a bit of a struggle for the pair to propel a craft carrying three men, two women, a bear and a wolfhound. "I mean, I sure don't have your muscle, but I figure I can help take the strain off a little bit?" She offers with a small smile to the two, trying to show her willingness to help, even if she can't do all the same things that the men can. She's much better dealing for the group's social needs, and tending to them during their moments of rest, but that doesn't mean she doesn't wish to be able to do more.

[Jeigh]

Orjan Erlandson Amidst the boarding passengers, Orjan clambers around the deck of the newly acquired skiff. It had been some time since he had operated a vessel of quite this size, so he took extra care in operating the booms, tack, and mast. Although he didn't want to admit it to the others unless he had to, Orjan had never captained his own ship before, so the experience of being the sole operator of a vessel was a new and rather tricky task for him. Every so often, the Veteran would call out to one of his companions and try to explain how to operate a certain part of the ship. "Give me some slack on the tack line, Savy!" he'd call from the prow. "Turn the tiller just a tick starboard, will you? I've got my hands tied up jibing." Both his in experience and rather curt speech compounded his inability to communicate effectively with his crew. This is going to be a long trip, he grimaced

Actions Orjan is doing his best to pilot the skiff. His initial Profession (Sailor) roll is 13.

[Numen Wraith]

With the women of the party settled into the far end of the boat, Sven climbed in and cuddled into his friend. He steadied her for a while before helping shove the boat from the banks. Once they were underway, he was of little use to Orjan as a sailor, but took orders well and provided some muscle.

[Digorig]

Current Data Location: Port of Hefn Date: Laugardagr, Ostara 13 Time: Mid-day Weather: Cold and clear, low 40’s

With Orjan taking command of their new watercraft, the group of five and a bear set sail northward, against the current towards Hefn. For the most part they had the winds at their backs, but a few time rowing was essential to avoid losing ground. There were a plethora of places along the shore to stop and camp at night and no more raids occurred.

They passed several other vessels on their sojourn, headed both north and south; mostly merchants with wares but a few other raiding parties. They seemed to glance at the bear in the boat and continue on their way. After about five days the troupe arrived at the port of Hefn and sailed up to a free pier.

A burly human who claimed to be the dock-master helped tie the skiff up then insisted on a 4 gold docking fee. It seemed clear that if not paid, their new ship may not be there when they returned to it.

Hefn was a large port city, the northern gateway to the world. There was a Tavern right at the docks – the Blind Parrot Pub – that was likely the sailor and riffraff hangout. Traffic was heavy, even for an early hour with traders and ships coming and going. Now they could only hope they would find what they sought here.

[Numen Wraith]

Sven coughs up two gold as they head off the boat. "Three more gold pieces if it's here when we return.

Dice Intimidate:

d20+9

(3)+9

Total = 12

One adamantium piece if it's not."

Then he tells the others he'll meet them at the tavern soon, and they might as well enjoy a hot and fresh meal while he makes a point of leading Hilda out of the town and into a wilderness area. He let her loose to do bear stuff in the woods before he returned to meet his companions in the tavern.

[mountainbound]

After the monies are settled, Kjersti gingerly accepts Orjan's hand and is yanked out of the boat. Magnbjǫrn leaps out behind her. The paladin was an earth-worshipper, and so five long days on a river, with surly company and a bear to boot, made her stomach knot like the ropes along the sail. She picked up a few things about ships from Fionn as they traveled though, and by the fifth day could actually steer if needed -- though rowing was beyond her.

It felt good to be in Hefn, even if it was a town full of strangers and riffraff. At least she wouldn't be needing to look at the water for some time. Walking beside Savriel, she feels more confident. Maybe it was because she was on land, or maybe she was coming to terms with some unknown part of herself. She even hefts her axe and lets it rest on her slender shoulder, rather than dragging it along. She knew it irked the men to see her handle the weapon so, so she tries to at least respect the blade that was hers to keep.