NorseQuest (A Norse Xianxia)

Boys
Henrik - Age 4, Bold, Rude, Rowdy (Great Potential)
Hrimnir - Age 3, Bossy, Quiet, Sharp (Good Potential)
Kjaran - Age 2, Small, Loud, Rowdy (Great Potential)
Klaus - Age 5, Friendly, Bold, Charming (Incredible Potential)
Lieknir - Age 3, Rude, Sharp, Quick (Good Potential)
Markvard - Age 3, Big, Loud, Friendly (Unstoppable Potential)
Liknvidr - Age 4, Quick, Sharp, Bossy (Good Potential)
Lodvig - Age 2, Big, Loud, Rowdy (Great Potential)
Hring - Age 2, Slow, Charming, Friendly (Good Potential)
Rodgeirr - Age 3, Quick, Small, Sharp (Great Potential)
Runolfr - Age 2, Bold, Rude, Big (Good Potential)
Ryggia - Age 4, Bold, Charming, Rowdy (Incredible Potential)
Oddkell - Age 2, Smelly, Slow, Bold (Poor Potential)
Oddmarr - Age 5, Slow, Big, Rude (Good Potential)

Girls
Brigida - Age 2, Quiet, Sharp, Quick (Great Potential)
Gudveig - Age 4, Loud, Big, Bold (Good Potential)
Gylla - Age 2, Quick, Sharp, Friendly (Great Potential)
Helga - Age 5, Quiet, Bold, Quick (Incredible Potential)
Hilda - Age 2, Loud, Rude, Bold (Good Potential)
Kadrina - Age 3, Sharp, Charming, Rowdy (Unstoppable Potential)
Radgirdr - Age 3, Slow, Big, Friendly (Great Potential)
Rinda - Age 3, Small, Bossy, Rowdy (Good Potential)
Siggunr - Age 4, Bold, Charming, Friendly (Incredible Potential)

Siblings (Not necessarily full siblings)
Henrik-Helga (Coast Family) | Hjalmir Hammerhand (~0 Relations)
Klaus-Kjaran-Kadrina (Coast Family) | Agvald Gundisson (~+3 Relations)
Hrimnir-Hilda-Hring (Fjord Family)
Rodgeirr-Radgirdr-Runolfr (Coast Family)
Rinda-Ryggja (Fjord Family)
Oddkell-Oddmarr (Asvir Family)
Gylla-Gudveig (Fjord Family)
Markvard-Brigida-Siggunr (Asvir Family)
Liknvidr-Lodvig-Lieknir (Fjord Family)

0~0~0

Gabriel shoots you with a pained, mixed-feelings glance as you make your approach. He pushes off the fencepost and tucks an odd rosary into a belt pouch—though you catch the faintest glimmer of polished black before it disappears into leather. That's a rosary you haven't seen before, where'd he get it from? You certainly didn't make it and, not to insult Gabriel or anything, but his crafting skills leave a lot to be desired.

"Time to get going?" Gabriel's eyes flick from you, to the bustling crowds of Asvir at work, and then to the sea and back. He swallows his dry throat, his complicated feelings leaving a shallow crease on his brow. His chin is missing more than a few hairs—a nervous habit he just can't seem to break.

"Thereabouts, yeah." You tilt your head towards the market and crowds, "There's a few things that still need to be done, but other then that," you shrug before turning your attention to him. "The only thing I'm really wondering about is if you are ready. And are you?"

His brow creases further as he huffs a heavy frown. Eventually, he crosses his arms and nods to himself, "I... I'm ready. Yeah, I'm ready," he repeats, as if trying to convince himself of it, "armor's loaded up, Sparrowflight's on my waist, and home is in my sights."

"Where is your home, exactly?"

"On the border of Wessex and Gwent is a small castle near the village of Arlingham. That's Blackstone Keep," he swallows, "and it's home."

You have absolutely no idea what this 'Gwent' is. Well, obviously it's a kingdom or nation of some kind, but that's as clear as day. "Gwent?"

"Welsh lands," the flicker of disquiet that crosses his face is all you need to know his thoughts on the matter. Welsh and Englishmen must not get along particularly well—though that may very well be something of an understatement.

"Right, right... Well, we're heading to Winchester, do you think you can find your way back from there or...?" You trail off as he stares at you, brows shooting high on his head.

"Winchester. Winchester."

Your eyes flick from side-to-side, "Yes? Is there something wrong with that?"

"It's the capitol of Wessex, the seat of King Alfred's power."

"Yeah."

He blinks, long and slow, before sighing a silent prayer, "Sure, why not, let's just sail right up to Winchester on a viking ship, what could go wrong?"

You snort and roll your eyes, "It'll be fine. Besides, we're not going a-viking so what's the worry?"

"My worry," he begins, "is that they'll shoot first, stab second, and ask never. Maybe they'll pray over our bodies, but, like I said, that's a maybe."

You shrug, not really seeing the problem. "And if we die, then we'll either get back up or we won't."

"You," the word hangs in the air like bait on a fisherman's hook, "will get back up. Me?" An odd flash of jealousy sparks in his eyes as he snorts and presses a hand to his chest, "I'm not so lucky."

"I..." You don't know what to say. It's just not something you've really given much thought to. "I'm sorry, Gabriel."

"For what? For walking a different path then me? You didn't choose to be born Norse, just as I didn't choose to be born English, yet here we are all the same—a Norsewoman and an Englishman." He sighs and lets his head hang. "I... I have something I need to tell you, but I can only tell you it when we get to Wessex, alright? It would be too awkward if I told you before, you know?"

"Alright," you nod, thoughts racing over what he might have to tell you.

"I'll be on the ship, if you need me." He waves his goodbyes and heads towards the Wavedancer, but before he can get far, you call out to him with a question of your own.

"In the lands of the English, what is it they desire most?"

He pauses as the words fall across him like a blanket. He laughs, once, and looks over his shoulder. His eyes, blue as glacial ice, meet your gaze of steel, "We men of Wessex want nothing more then good, strong weapons and cold, dead Norsemen."

You watch him leave, thoughts filled with feelings. A bad yet terribly familiar feeling comes to rest at the bottom of your stomach. Something awful is going to happen, you just know it.

What do you do next?
[ ] Go shopping
-[ ] Write in
[ ] Start sorting through the options for your ship's crew
-[ ] Write in what sort of attributes you're looking for

0~0~0

AN: This was a fun one to write

No moratorium and a short vote.