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NorseQuest (A Norse Xianxia)

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that's 29 dice right?

Edit: there we go for first.
mythfan12 threw 12 6-faced dice. Reason: Hamingja Total: 37
3 3 1 1 4 4 6 6 5 5 1 1 1 1 2 2 2 2 6 6 4 4 2 2
mythfan12 threw 12 6-faced dice. Reason: Hamingja Total: 44
1 1 1 1 5 5 6 6 4 4 5 5 3 3 3 3 3 3 6 6 5 5 2 2
mythfan12 threw 5 6-faced dice. Reason: Hamingja Total: 22
6 6 6 6 5 5 2 2 3 3
 
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I guess I can do one.

EDIT: Eesh. 3 successes. That's awful. I regret rolling.
EDIT2: I rolled 2 too many dice, but the last two cancel each other out.
DeadmanwalkingXI threw 12 6-faced dice. Reason: Hamingja Total: 37
3 3 2 2 5 5 2 2 4 4 5 5 4 4 2 2 1 1 1 1 6 6 2 2
DeadmanwalkingXI threw 12 6-faced dice. Reason: Hamingja Total: 25
3 3 1 1 1 1 1 1 3 3 4 4 4 4 1 1 1 1 3 3 2 2 1 1
DeadmanwalkingXI threw 7 6-faced dice. Reason: Hamingja Total: 22
4 4 2 2 5 5 4 4 1 1 2 2 4 4
 
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Catching up with votes:

Imperial Fister said:
Teaching Abjorn to weave
The year, by the reckoning of the followers of Christ, is 8980 AD and you, Halla Sunshine, have just turned twenty-two.

Abjorn looks down at the stack of pages you've just handed him, a befuddled look on his face. "I, uh," a light dusting of embarrassed red splashes across his bearded cheeks, "I can't read, Halla."

You blink, "What?"

He looks away, face going lava-red as he whispers, "I, uh, I was never taught to read."

"But," you frown and plant your hands on your hips, "I've seen you write your name down?"

"I know enough for that," he says before gesturing at the writing on your gambeson and adding, "and to read your name."

...If Vidar wasn't already dead, you would've put him there yourself.

Well, guess you'll have to teach him that first...

Actually, now that you think about it, how many of your retainers can read?

Actually, the only reason you can read is a result of Blackhand teaching you... Can your brothers read? How many people do you know that can't actually read?!

This might put something of a damper on your plans to spread knowledge...

(Literacy isn't especially common)
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Some of the kids are getting old enough to start learning to read and write too, actually.

We could do lessons for the whole farmstead.

Imperial Fister said:
"Nah, just had a thought, is all," Tryggr shakes his head, a light frown on his face. "Most women aren't as strong as men, so you have to pull the orthstirr out of your body in order to not accidentally break them in bed—which seems to be something of an issue, now."

Stigmar grimaces, "I had to learn that the hard way, when we were in Wessex," he scratches at his beard as a flush takes his face. "She seemed to enjoy it, though that's probably a bit out of the ordinary for women."

"Halla once broke my hips," Abjorn speaks up as you find yourself staring at a particularly interesting snail making its way across the ground. "Ever since then, I've had to keep strengthening my body just to keep my legs."

"Lucky man," Tryggr whistles before turning to you, a curious look on his brow-arching face, "Hey, Halla, can you break a watermelon with your thighs?"

"I don't know what a watermelon is," you're forced to admit as you rock back and forth on your heels, "but Sten once asked me to help him crack a geode. I didn't have any tools on hand, so I just used my legs."

Silence falls across the training field as three sets of eyes land on you.

"Holy fucking shit," Tryggr breathes, utterly awestruck.

(Tryggr and Stigmar now have infused hamr)
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LMAO

Imperial Fister said:
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Feeding some Lesser Spirits
Unfortunately, it seems that 'loyalty' isn't really a direction that can be directed towards—not through feeding tomvaettir odr, at least.

Regardless, after poking through the hordes of tomvaettir moving about your soul in search of one that feels more 'on the level' than most, you set to work on feeding that chosen tomvaett a portion of odr.

As you hit three droplets, the tomvaett seems to change. It feels as though that, if so desired, you could direct the growth into one of three different direction. Seeing as, in your searches, you found a few other good candidates, you decide to just do them all.

The first tomvaett grows into what you describe as a 'skapandivaett'. This minor spirit seems far more creative than others of its ilk. Where tomvaettir merely graze, the skapandivaett searches. It upturns rocks, pokes its head into tree hollows, and even digs in the ground!

The second tomvaett, rather than growing into a skapandivaett, instead perches on a large rock as it turns its gaze to the heavens. The 'syngjandivaett'—as you've taken to calling it—begins to do what can only be described as 'sing'. While the noises have no clear meaning, it seems to have something of a positive effect on the lesser spirits around it as they bring all manner of food to the syngjandivaett.

The third tomvaett, however, takes a radically different approach than its fellows. Instead of singing or searching for its meal, this tomvaett hunts. The 'veidvaett' stalks the tomvaettir with frenzied efficiency as it cleaves a bloody trail through your soulscape.

All three spirits are far more intelligent than their once-peers. They're probably smart enough to actually communicate with, should you be so inclined.

(You now have a skapandivaett, a syngjandivaett, and a veidvaett in your soulscape)
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We're playing our own game of Spore in our soulscape.

Imperial Fister said:
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Spending time with Kurt and Haydis
Humming to yourself, you mash up rabbit ovaries, powder deer antlers, and mix it all together with a heifer's first milk while a vaguely off-put Kurt and Haydis watch. Haydis, laid out upon a birthing bed, doesn't look especially pleased to be drinking it while Kurt breathes a sigh of relief.

As you work, a thought comes to mind, "So," you begin, nodding towards Kurt, "I know you fought well during the raid, but I wasn't able to find many stories of your heroics?"

"I really didn't do all that much," Kurt shrugs, eyes flicking to where his spear, sax, and shield dangle off the wall as he downplays his efforts.

Haydis, the good wife that she is, scowls and delivers a loving flick to the side of his head, "You slew two men, both slayers themselves! I didn't marry a liar, so you'd best tell Halla of your feats if you want to keep it that way!"

"Well, I guess it can't hurt..." Kurt sighs as he rubs the back of his neck. Gathering up his courage, he turns to you and says, "I'm not sure if you knew of this as it was happening, as you were in the thick of it at the front, but the Aggilsfjordmen managed to sneak ten fighters around our flank to strike at the rear." His rubbing picks up the pace alongside his quickened breathing, eyes fixed to where his weapons rest, "They were fighting like mad dogs, all of them shape-strong, and cut down seven men before anyone knew what was happening. It's difficult to recall it clearly," he admits as his neck turns red, eyes distant but he can't stop now, "but I remember throwing my spear into their leader's shield, which disabled it and allowed me to almost c-cut off his head with my sax. A man I assume to be his brother ran at me with sword held high and death in his eyes, but I managed to retrieve my spear just in time to run him through. He impaled himself up to my hands and would've taken my head off if I hadn't slipped on the blood and fallen. He bled out after that."

Kurt seems to collapse in on himself as he finishes his story, the retelling taking a lot out of him. Haydis, however, couldn't be prouder of her husband as she beams like the sun itself was peaking through the storm clouds gathering in the distance.

"And that's my husband!" She nearly leaps to her feet as she pulls Kurt to her ample bosom. Her arms wrap around his body as she holds him close, his arms returning the favor just a few heartbeats later. "Isn't he something?"

"Sure is," you reply as you hurriedly return to your potion-making, having forgotten it while listening. "A feat like that deserves ample reward, how would you like to be a huskarl?"

Kurt tries to refuse, but Haydis isn't having it. With voice full of vim and vigor, she answers for her husband, "He'd love nothing more!"

When Kurt doesn't move correct her, you shrug and bring down the superior-quality sword from where it hangs on the wall. Taking both the blade and the completed potion to the couple, you offer one to Kurt and Haydis respectively, "This sword does yet bear no name, but it shall serve as symbol of your office." As Kurt's lips thin and he accepts the sword, you turn to Haydis with potion in hand, "Every morning for the next nine days, you'll drink this potion. Once the last drop passes your lips, you'll find yourself ready to bear fruit."

Leaving the lovers to their celebrations, you find yourself sitting on the porch with your head in your hands and your mind lost in thought.

Kurt... Has nidheart, you're sure of it.

He's no fighter—though Haydis would violently disagree—and was never meant for the battlefield. The fact he killed two men doesn't change that fact in the slightest. He simply doesn't have the mental strength to withstand the horrors of combat, not without bringing it back to the bed with him.

It doesn't seem to be especially damaging to his soul—thank the Gods for small mercies—but you wouldn't trust him on the battlefield, not as he is now. He'd shiver and shake, dropping his weapon as he turned tail and ran.

If you have it your way, he won't end up in such a situation. Unfortunately, life rarely works to your desires. You'll have to do something about his nidheart, if only to spare Kurt the embarrassment.

Nine days later, Haydis finds herself pregnant and you find yourself one huskarl richer.

(+1 progress to Jarlsoul-in-the-Making)
(Kurt Frogtongue is now a Huskarl)
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Awwww, bless him.

We should do something about that Nidheart, though. We're probably skilled enough in Seidr now to help fix it ourselves.

Imperial Fister said:
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Yule Divination
In a secluded spot far away from the laughter and festivities of Yule, you find yourself in the company of swaying trees and curious creatures. Squirrels watch with cheeks full of their winter store as you walk under the canopy above. Birds chirp as they fly about overhead, the complex dance of their courtship a sight to behold. Even a noble elk stops to watch as you come to a stop before an old, gnarled oak.

Kneeling down before the wisdom of the Gods, you close your eyes, reach inside the bag at your side, and pull out two sticks.

Drysalt Hadingsbane...

...and Dorri Rattlespear.
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...

Motherfucker.
 
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Summer 11/Divination Questions 3
  • Threadmarks
    • [X] "Who can be my greatest ally in revealing this treachery?"
    -[X] The list of options would be: most of the notable people in the valley
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    Swallowing, you stare down at the sticks you've drawn. Five names peer out at you, when you'd only desired one.

    'Halfdan'

    'Solrun'

    'Veny'

    'Buri'

    'Corpsemaker'

    ...Gods damn it, you're going to have to play nice with damn Corpsemaker of all people.

    Gods.

    Damn.

    It.
    (Hamingja: 21) 21 Successes
    Just as you were about to pack up and leave, the bark of a familiar dog draws your gaze to the right, to where a bush starts to rattle and shake. Darting over to the bush, you wrench it from the earth to find none other than Flekkr—his graying snout pressed firmly to the ground as he barks and growls.

    Pulling him away, you find nothing but the remains of a bug—an ant, by the looks of things.

    ...You've got a bad feeling about this.

    (Journal Entry Added: Dorri)
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    Exploration (Hamingja: 3) 3 Successes
    As your fylgja flies across the coastline, you spy a small creek's outlet, where an odd amount of driftwood seems to gather en mass.

    Flying in close, you realize that this driftwood is actually... Rather high quality?

    Very odd, but perhaps exploitable?

    (You may now use High-Quality Driftwood as Bling, should you so wish it)
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    Trip time!
    The fact that you stand not five-hundred feet from your father's killer but can't do anything about it fills you with enough rage to make veins stand out on your forehead.

    Fortunately, you can shapeshift, so it's not a problem—but the fact remains that you can't fucking kill the bastard.

    Regardless, you've got work to do.

    Namely, setting up a trip to Gotland.

    First things first, finding friends to crew the ship with.
    [ ] Go with the people who went last time
    -[ ] (Optional) Add in some newbies
    [ ] Go through the process again

    Second things second, finding goods to trade with.
    [ ] Take some of your own goods along
    -[ ] Write in
    [ ] Go shopping for some
    [ ] Buy it on the way

    Third things third, plotting the route to travel with.
    [ ] Go straight to Gotland (~5 Days)
    [ ] Stop some places along the way
    -[ ] (Optional) Stop in Denmark (+2 Days)
    -[ ] (Optional) Stop at Uppsala (+5 Days)
    -[ ] (Optional) Pick somewhere else (Depends on choice)

    0~0~0

    AN: I'm going to be very busy tomorrow, so there will probably be no update, unfortunately.

    No moratorium, as it's getting late.
     
  • Threadmarks
    • [X] Go with the people who went last time
    -[X] (Optional) Add in some newbies

    The crew from last time seems fine. If someone else wants to come I'm fine with that, though?

    [X] Go shopping for some

    I think we do need to buy some trade goods, yeah.

    [X] Stop some places along the way
    -[X] (Optional) Stop in Denmark (+2 Days)
    -[X] (Optional) Stop at Uppsala (+5 Days)

    We need to stop in Denmark to see Asva.

    EDIT: Uppsala is probably also good...to return Thievesbane maybe?

    Shard said:
    Halla, Framarr has magic spying ants!

    Dorri knows!
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    More specifically, Framarr knows. Whether he's in it with Dorri is not certain, though it's a worst case scenario.
     
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    No, he doesn't, because Flekkr killed the messenger before it could report back.

    But it Does mean we need to be very careful to ant-proof any places that we're going to chat in.
     
    Hey Solrun,

    With your Seeing Eyes you can see other people's Fylgja if they've been unveiled, right?

    Do you know the Fylgjur of Dorri and his children?
     
    Shard said:
    Hey Solrun,

    With your Seeing Eyes you can see other people's Fylgja if they've been unveiled, right?

    Do you know the Fylgjur of Dorri and his children?
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    Why do you ask?

    (You'll have to ask her that as a Question. You'll get an opportunity to change your mind on what you want to ask her when you get back from the trip)
     
    Especially after it's been mauled by a big fuckin' Viking dog. It's an ant. We're lucky the dog didn't just swallow the thing whole or something.
     
    So, I think we need to be worried about Ironic Divinisation Shenanigans - the kind of thing where we think we know the whole picture, but there's some crucial detail missing. Or where characters end up bringing about the fate they were trying to avert, etc.. This is not the case here, since this isn't a prophecy, but you know what I mean. There is probably some kind of secret behind Dorri's motivations for working with Drysalt, and I kind of wish we'd found out what it was, because it might be key to figuring out Drysalt's overall involvement here.

    ...That being said, Dorri has got to go. I don't care if he was doing this because Drysalt is keeping his adorable grand-niece as a hostage. He's going.

    Also, something rather interesting from when we spoke to the vittra:
    Imperial Fister said:
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    Silver-Tongue: 17 Successes
    "So..." You purse your lips as you rock on your heels, "You said something about 'paying good silver to be left alone'?"

    "I did, yes," the papa-vittra slurs his words as the hazy figure sways on unsteady feet. He slumps against a cow, which delivers an annoyed swish of the tail as he rests against its flank. "Land's owner bade me welcome, made certain I knew his trusted messenger-men, and accepted my service in exchange for a plot of land to call my own."

    "Did this 'land's owner' have a name and what manner of service would you render him?" Your eyes narrow as you run thumb and forefinger across chin and jaw, thoughts running wild with possibility.

    The obvious man to fit the role is none other than Jarl Erikaer Corpsemaker—the usual suspect in matters such as this. While you hate even the bastard's trodden footsteps, there are a number of other possibilities. Dorri, for one, may have recruited the vittror for his inevitable conflict with Corpsemaker—as could Corpsemaker in the reverse.

    However, another potential name comes to mind as you consider it yet further. The name that brought terror to the hearts of men both strong and weak. A name that shook the very heavens and broke the rule of law over its knee.

    Could Drysalt Hadingsbane have claimed the valley for his own? He spilled more than enough blood to win any wager of combat. That would, from a certain perspective, make him the 'land's owner.'

    ...You hate how much that makes sense.

    "Do you not know the name of the one you live under? The one whose yoke you bear? The one who I shall fight alongside?" The vittra chuckles heartily as he paws at his mouth, seemingly finding the very idea of such a thing hilarious beyond compare.
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    If Dorri is recruiting vittra as allies for the coming conflict, then he might be recruiting other allies for the upcoming conflict with Corpsemaker as well.

    Including Drysalt.
     
    Skippy said:
    If Dorri is recruiting vittra as allies for the coming conflict, then he might be recruiting other allies for the upcoming conflict with Corpsemaker as well.

    Including Drysalt.
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    Problem is, we asked specifically for who "paid" for steinarr's death, so Drysalt isn't just someone hired, he's part of the instigation.
     
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