Asgeirr ate molten bronze, which would kill a human several times over, and somehow came out fine. Our niece Drifa climbed into a fully hot forge and didn't die.
Actually, IF strongly implied that Drifa did die, it just wasn't her Fated Day so she got better.
Asgeirr is a better example...but it really depends on the kind of lava it is. Bronze has a melting point of under 1700 degrees Fahrenheit...if the lava is of a similar temperature it's probably fine. However, lava can be a lot hotter than that, like, over 10 times as hot. That seems likely to be problematic. Maybe not for Halla now that she can turn into fire, but for the kids.
So are swords, but those you leave hanging on the wall.
So they can be grabbed quickly if needed, yes, but there's not *that* much space in a hall. Certainly not if you're trying to fit a lightning rod in there
So are swords, but those you leave hanging on the wall.
So they can be grabbed quickly if needed, yes, but there's not *that* much space in a hall. Certainly not if you're trying to fit a lightning rod in there
Oh, I'm not saying they're hard to get to just not, like, lying in the middle of the floor. It'd likewise be on the wall or in a trunk or something. Someone would have to actively get them out, not just stumble across them accidentally.
Alright, so, I've got a psychiatrist's appointment later today and, since tomorrow is my day off, I'm probably not going to be finished with this update until Thursday at the earliest—as there's just a lot of content in there.
Would you like what I've got done now as a teaser or would you like me to hold off until it's all done? The teaser would have plenty of content in it and would likely tide you over till then, but you might want to wait until it's done so you can consume it in one big lump sum. Either way, it's up to you folks
I have no particular preference on this issue personally. I'm good either way and happy this update is gonna be sizable in total, whether split up or not.
I think it's fine splitting it; That means we'll get discussion on the individual parts, as opposed to a giant whole, in which case we'll focus on only a few parts.
[X] For the man with clammy hands, offer him an ointment brewed with (among other things) the unconsumed experience of The First Warmth of the Rising Dawn, which he must use daily for the next 27 days, putting it on his hands and feet alike daily. We will charge him two ounces of silver for this, and it should cure the problem for good, if it does not he can come back and we'll fix it another way.
[X] Plan Goodbye Brother Bart (For Real This Time)
-[X] Send off Brother Bartholomew for Wessex
--[X] Assigning Vagn Wheel-Drifter and anyone else who wants to go on a quick drop off to accompany him.
--[X] Send them along on one of the ships already headed that way this year
--[X] Offer to send Seeingsnow with them if Seeingsnow so desires.
--[X] Send a letter to Gabriel, asking Brother Bartholomew to deliver it and explaining our connection with Gabriel Blackstone, who seems likely to be a relative of his.
---[X] This letter will tell Gabriel of Steinarr's death, and request that he help us against those who killed him, if he is willing (along with noting the rough time frame based on Drysalt's threat, and that these enemies include supernatural evil). They did deny him his own chance for revenge, after all, and our remaining family is in danger, we could use his help. That said, this is a request for help from a friend, not a demand.
--[X] Suggest picking up books might be a thing that Vagn could do (with Brother Bart's advice) and we'd appreciate, and send him with some money for that.
-[X] Talk to Abjorn
--[X] Try to convince him to actually cultivate Odr, work on his soulscape and Infuse things. Specifically, note that it's a relatively safe route to power, indicate (in veiled terms) the food security provided by the field, and so on. Power can be an end goal, but even if you don't care about that power helps to shape the world and defend the part of it you already hold...Abjorn is already powerful, but the more powerful he is the safer both he and our family as a whole are. We want that for him. Can he please put in the effort?
--[X] We're not encouraging him to do anything risky like Hugr Infusion (that's up to him), but Infusion in Hamr, Combat, Labor, and stuff like that, and making a House, Fence, and Fields are all too useful for him not to engage with.
-[X] [Focus] Talk With Our Slavic Retainers
--[X] Now that we have a language in common get to know them and see if they have any issues or things they'd like to do.
--[X] Hopefully also get some information on Slavic Cultivation, but getting to know them is the priority
--[X] If we have time after dealing with any issues and getting to know people see if Kazimir has any interesting knowledge we could learn from him
-[X] (Training) Hamr (511 xp to rank up)
--[X] Train the Sword Stepping Martial Style 7xp
--[X] Train Tree-Split Trick 6xp (3xp)
--[X] Train Stunner-Slam 6xp (3xp)
--[X] Train Tendon Cut 6xp (3xp)
--[X] Train Palm Crush 6xp (3xp)
--[X] Train Meteoric Shot 6xp (3xp)
--[X] Train Devouring Blaze 36 xp (18 xp)
-[X] (Training) Hugr (255 xp to rank up)
--[X] Train Flashfire Cleave 36xp (9xp)
--[X] Train Dead Air 6xp
--[X] Train Warm Up 8xp (2xp)
--[X] Train Dry Off 8xp (2xp)
-[X] (Work Options)
--[X] Remake our 11 Basic Shields as Superior (11 Work)
--[X] Write A Poem - Ginnungagap (3 Work)
--[X] Check if Extinguish works to put our Sunfire. The Owlbear proved it doesn't work on Finales, but this seems worth checking. (1 Work)
--[X] See what we can figure out about the Earthblood without opening it. Especially what would happen if we opened the vial. (1 Work)
--[X] Try and Alloy Fight of Our Life and Stoker State and see what happens (1 Work)
-[X] (Shapeshifting Slots)
--[X] Reassign our slots to two in Improved Attractiveness, six in Reduced Sleep, and two in Sharpened Senses.
-[X] (Incidentals)
--[X] Infuse **4 Odr** each into Smithing, Scouting, Housecraft, and Travel and **8 Odr** each into Combat, Wordplay, and Labor
--[X] Adding Taafl Board Capacity Gains to: Nobody (we did two last time)
--[X] Receiving Metal from Dwarves: 24 oz Forged Iron, 6 oz Drafty Iron
Tree-Split Trick (Rough-Refined)
Stunner-Slam (Rough-Refined)
Tendon Cut (Rough-Refined)
Palm Crush (Rough-Refined)
Meteoric Shot (Rough-Refined)
Dead Air (Rough-Refined)
Dry Off (Rough-Refined)
Warm Up (Rough-Refined)
Remaking Shields
Rather than turn your basic shields into superior quality shields, you decide to just make eleven new shields of superior quality while hanging onto the basics. After all, you never know when having a large number of shields may come in handy!
0~0~0 Ginnungagap Poem
The poem about Ginnungagap is of sufficient quality to earn you some orthstirr.
0~0~0 Extinguish on Sunfire
Extinguish does, in fact, put out Sunfire.
0~0~0 Earthblood
While you learn nothing new about Earthblood, you do realize that, should you empty the vial, it would be rather difficult to put it back in given the heat and viscosity of the substance.
0~0~0 Fight of Our Life + Stoker State
For whatever reason, it appears that Alloying Fight of Our Life and Stoker State doesn't work. You can only imagine that it's because Fight of Our Life is an Alloy in of itself, but you could be wrong.
0~0~0 Speaking with your Slavic retainers
There's only a few specks of snow left—barely enough to call a pile!—out on the untrodden paths of your home. With the changing of the seasons and the warming of the weather, soon shall the stragglers melt off on their merry way. But until then, there are still flecks of white to pass as you carry a load of firewood to your house.
Offering a nod to Tryggr and Trausti as they drive new fenceposts deep into the earth—the posts' predecessors having suffered greatly from a particularly ornery spirit of rot after you'd refused it entry into your pantry—you follow the slightly waterlogged path leading up the hill. Avoiding a small swamp of mud, a warm smile graces your face as your eyes find the small patch of flowers beginning to sprout next to your home.
Just about two or so weeks ago, Hallbjorn had managed to acquire a collection of seeds from Gods know where and, with the 'help' of Steinulf and Asveig, planted them right beside the front door. With a trowel he'd had his beaver carve from a stump of hardwood, Hallbjorn rests on his hands and knees as he carefully clears the plants of the weeds threatening to take root. A sweetly-singing songbird flutters overhead as he dumps a handful of root-stranglers into a small divot in the ground. A flick of the wrist and a surge of crimson orthstirr is all it takes for a heartbeat-long flame to utterly incinerate the weeds.
Hallbjorn barely acknowledges your presence as you walk by, so entranced is he by his work. Climbing up onto the stone-cut doorstep, you knock the dirt from your shoes with a sharp kick of the heels before nudging the door open and stepping inside.
Immediately upon entry, you're greeted by the warmth of a crackling hearth and the sweet smell of baking bread. Barely visible through the covering of coals at the edge of the flames, the loaves slowly turn from lumps of wet dough to golden-crusted loaves of lovely fresh bread. Made from local, wildly growing, sweet-grain found only in the shadow of barrow-mounds, the bread—known abroad as 'barrowbread', thanks to the barrows themselves serving as the source of the yeast—is a specialty of the Hading-dwellers. It's also quite tasty, especially if one takes the time to properly stuff a loaf with marinated meats and melted cheeses.
Slinging the firewood bundle from your shoulder and depositing it in the copper-frame stack-holder just inside the doorway, you drape your woolen cloak and weapons on the claw-shaped rack running round the interior of your house walls before stepping further inside.
With their backs to the entrance and the door's opening and closing cloaked by the sharply popping fire—some sparkwood must have gotten into the stack, how annoying—Lata and Haydis fail to notice your arrival. As they're hard at work with your least favorite task—collecting dirty laundry—you deem it prudent to avoid announcing your presence until they're almost done with the work. After all, why suffer soiled clothes if you don't have to?
It doesn't take long at all for Lata and Haydis to finish up, what with most of the residents being adults who can look after themselves—cough, cough Tryggr cough, cough—meaning that you're only able to catch the tail end of their conversation.
"So, what do you think I should do?" Lata's accent is fainter than her fellow Slavs', having picked up Norse far faster and to a far more developed degree. So much so that you've even found her composing a few stanzas of poetry!
"Well," Haydis hums to herself as she plucks the last blanket from the floor—a soft-blue sheet that had cost you a pretty penny only to be used near exclusively by Bjorney and, to a lesser extent, Eyvor, "have you tried asking him if he's interested in you?"
Lata shakes her head, her short, black hair bobbing as it dances around her shoulders—she'd kept it fairly short ever since she was freed from Thralldom, apparently preferring it at that length, "Uh, well, I haven't?" She tries a shrug and an awkward, slightly strained smile, "Do you think I should?"
Haydis levels a mother's stare Lata's way as she perfectly folds the fabric blind. "Does a bear sleep on a blue blanket?"
It's at that moment you decide to make your presence known. Leaning in and loudly clearing your throat, Haydis notices you just in time to save herself a scare. Which is more than can be said for poor Lata.
Hands fly towards the heavens following a shrill shriek as Lata fully leaves the ground. Twisting around mid-air, Lata lands back down with only a single foot on the ground—the other swept forward and carrying her towards the hearthflame. A shock of guilt and fear rampages through your heart as you realize what you've down. Hand flicking forward, a line of crimson orthstirr snaps into existence and connects her shirt to your hand. Sharply yanking on the strand, you Recall with more than a little bit of strength as you pull Lata away from the open flame and into your arms.
'I was about to say something about being mean,' Blackhand remarks as Lata slowly hyperventilates her way into calming down, 'but I think you made up for it there.'
Yeah... Scaring a former thrall isn't the best look, now that you think about it.
"Halla!" Lata scowls as she manages to wrestle control back over herself. As she says your name, though, a bolt of realization shocks its way through her mind as an idea happens upon her, "Halla!"
"That's my name," you grin, a rather odd sense of melancholy rising as your thoughts turn to Stigr. The feeling leaves as quickly as it came, the only thing in its wake a handful of memories still warm from nostalgia.
Haydis watches with amusement as Lata scrambles from your arms and smooths out her skirts. Taking a deep breath, Lata nods to herself as she levels a smile your way, "Halla, I have a favor to ask."
'This would be a good way to make up for scaring her,' Blackhand mentions just as you were going to accept, briefly throwing you into a minor dilemma. After all, it's never a good feeling for someone to tell you to do something you were already doing. Regardless, it's not like you're going to refuse her, you know?
"Well," Lata nods as you accept, taking a moment to collect herself, "I want to marry Stigmar, but I don't know all that much about him or his family. Can you help me get in good with them?"
"I would," you grimace while rocking on your heels, "but it's not really possible right now, as his family are scattered to the winds."
Lata blinks, shrinking in on herself, "Oh... Did something... Happen?"
You nod, but are quick to clarify, "Most of his family are still alive, just not here anymore."
"I see," she frowns for a moment, "In that case, can you tell me what Stigmar likes in a woman?"
You open your mouth to answer, only to pause and close it as nothing comes to mind. That's, now that you think about it, actually a really good question. What does Stigmar like in a woman? You've only known the guy for, what, seven or so years? You'd think you'd learn a fact or two about him over the years!
However, you're not one to give up—ever—so you simply nod your head and give Lata a grin, "I'll go find out for you, how's that?"
The smile that splits her face could blind the sun, "That'd be great! Thank you so much!"
As you leave them to their work—but not before offering Haydis a nod—you start working out the solution to something of a log in the road. For you see, Stigmar's been somewhat absent as of late. Disappearing off into the woods in the morning, he only returns in the evenings drenched head to toe with sweat.
Well, given that he always comes back covered in sweat, it does narrow down the potential possibilities quite a bit. He's gotta be doing something that creates a lot of sweat, after all, and there's only a few things you can think of that'd cause it. For Lata's sake, you can only hope it's less carnal than some of the options.
Regardless, where he goes is a mystery, one you'll need to solve one way or another. Since he's covered in sweat and the like, he's probably stinking up a storm wherever he's at. If you had a good nose, you could very easily follow the trail to his location. Fortunately, you have two such sniffers right on hand.
Unfortunately, though, your preferred choice of Abjorn is unavailable. He's currently busy helping Sten with some manner of construction—more physical labor than anything else. You'd offered to help when Sten had come by, as you've got a good head for designing things, but that only seemed to tick Sten off. He's been in something of a bad mood at late, even before he came by, though won't answer any of your questions.
Still, you've got a job to do and need some help to get it done. While Abjorn and his nose are currently indisposed, Kare Wolf-Seek is both in possession of such a nose and is able to help out in this quest of yours. Last you saw him, he was heading out to sow the fields with Vesna. They're probably mostly done by now, but you might as well go lend a hand while you've got the time, right?
Plucking your cloak from the rack and returning your weapons to their proper positions, you nod to yourself before stepping outside. The warmth of sunlight on your skin is always a surefire way to provide your mood with something of a kick in the pants. Stifling a sun-drawn yawn, you start your stroll down the hillside only to pause mid-step as something seems off to your eyes. Like runes without color or ship without sail, there's something missing in the scene before you.
It doesn't take long at all to hone in on the missing piece in the puzzle. Where once there was the snick-snick of trowel through soil, now there is but silence. The spot Hallbjorn once knelt is empty, empty save for the trowel discarded in a pile of plants. You didn't feel anything in your mother's sense, so the slight fear creeping up your spine has no real bite to it. Still, it isn't like Hallbjorn to just abandon things like that. Not without good reason, anywho.
Even though you know he's not in danger, the fact that there's been some suspicious characters around asking Dorri after your land does little to settle the unease building in your stomach. Especially since the farm is slightly understaffed at the moment—as you'd sent Vagn, Hakon, and Magni off to Asvir to both arrange for a ship and to gather information on said suspicious characters—it isn't impossible that some unknown foe swept in and snatched Hallbjorn away.
As much as you might loathe to admit it, your children are your weakness. If someone wanted something of you, something you didn't want to give, holding one or more of your children hostage is a way to get you to the negotiating table—at least until Abjorn or another finds and frees the hostage, anyways.
'Tryggr and Trausti are still working on the fence, surely they'd have something to say should that have happened,' Blackhand's rumbling voice is a welcome distraction from the fears clawing into your heart. Banishing the worries with a deep breath, you turn your gaze to where...
"What am I looking at here?" Your brows dig a deep valley on your head as your stare drills through Tryggr and Trausti's strained smiles. Behind them stands a rather suggestively carved fence post with two egg-shaped bulbs at the base.
Trausti sighs, rubbing at the side of his nose as he elbows his brother, "I told you that she'd notice!"
"That was never in doubt!" Tryggr retorts with a jutting chin and hands on his hips, "The bet was for how long it would take her."
"And she noticed it immediately," Trausti rolls his eyes as he gestures your way, "which means you still lost," he lays his hand out palm-up and prods Tryggr, "so pay up."
Tryggr groans, but obliges by digging out two coins from his purse and planting them firmly in Trausti's palm. While all of this is going on, you're still squinting from atop the hill.
"You are going to fix it, right?" Your words draw flinches from the brothers as they hurriedly nod and offer a chorus of affirmatives, "And..." Swallowing the sudden lump in your throat, you release a long stream of air before soldiering on, "and have you seen Hallbjorn?"
"Oh yeah," Tryggr nods as he points off towards the hills, "Asgeirr ran on by and dragged him off to the hills, to help his siblings with the livestock."
You slump forwards as a wave of relief washes across your body. "Oh thank the Gods."
'Can we get back to Lata's thing, now that that's solved?' Blackhand grumbles as you direct a quirked brow his way, 'What? I'm invested!'
Shaking your head at his antics, you wave goodbye to your retainers as you turn down the path taking you to the fields. It won't be a long walk—less than five minutes, by your reckoning—but it's enough for you to fully calm down and relieve yourself of all the stress of the Hallbjorn debacle.
'You know,' Blackhand begins after a moment's thought, 'I think you might be more mercurial than normal.'
"How so?"
'Well, you're more prone to spikes of emotion, and it's not your period, so clearly something is off.' You're just gonna ignore that middle bit there, 'If I had to hazard a guess, I'd say that it's a consequence of imbibing that blood.'
You pause on the spot as the wind picks up, taking strands of your hair along for the ride, "Was imbibing it a mistake?"
'I wouldn't say that,' Blackhand is quick to shut down that train of thought, 'I would say that Power Requires Sacrifice. It's one of the oldest laws of existence. Such is the way of things.'
You watch the wind pass through trees, silent thoughts running through your head.
"Such is the way of things."
Deciding that it's better to think about such difficult things when you've got the time to think about them—and not, you know, when you're in the middle of a task for another person, and also because Blackhand would nag you until the end of time—you restart your walk to the fields and actually finish it this time.
Passing by a patch of white-petalled wildflowers growing by the gate, you round the path wrapping around the outside of the fence and lay eyes on the sprawling fields belonging to your family. The good soil on the inside of the fence—safe from curious wildlife and hungry foes—had already been sown with more than enough crops to keep your household feed for the foreseeable future. All that's left to do is to ready the outer fields for hay, so that your animals may have food over the winter.
With all the hay left over from last year's bumper crop, there's not much need to sow as much this year. Still, it's a good idea to sow some just in case vermin find homes in the stock—as happened over at Halfdan's, though you offered up some of your own stores to alleviate the burden on him—so it's no surprise to find only Kare and Vesna working the fields at this time.
A singular stalk of sweet-grain dangles from Kare's wolfish mouth as he walks the fields with seedbag in hand. A hood sits on his head with embroider-bordered holes cut out for his ears, which swivel to and fro as he keeps an eye on the horizon. One of his clawed hands is always ready to dart to the sword at his waist should any danger make itself known, as is the way of Norsemen all the world over.
At his side walks the matronly Vesna as she sows handfuls of seed across the furrowed field. A tall woman easily standing eye-to-eye with Kare, age has done little to dull the beauty of her youth. Wrinkles crowd her eyes while herk dark locks lacks its once-luster, but she acts with such confidence and authority that lesser men find themselves walking in her wake should they not pay attention to their actions.
Lifting your hand overhead, you call out a greeting to the pair roaming the fields, "Hail, Wolf-Seek and Vesna! How goes the sowing?"
Kare's ears flick as his nose twitches. Glowing, golden eyes turn your way from beneath the shadow of his green-dyed hood. He tosses out the last seeds in his hand before returning your wave with one of his own as Vesna offers a brief curtsey, "Greetings, Jarl," the head of grain moves up and down with his jaw, having been lodged between fang and tooth, "the sowing goes well, though some help would be greatly appreciated."
Seeing as you were planning on helping out anyways—and it would be rude to just drag him away from his work for an errand of your own—you shrug and nod. Grabbing a nearby sack of seeds from the stack loosely piled at the edge of the fields, you join the pair in their sowing.
Sowing is an easy enough process, all things considered, but it's nothing if not time consuming. All you're really doing is walking the fields and tossing out handfuls of seed, but that's only the first step. Next is the part that really takes time, the part where you make sure each seed finds home in the soil. Up and down the fields you stroll, pushing seeds into the dirt with whatever tools you have on hand—or, if you're unlucky, your hands and feet.
This process can last for several days and can see the lost of a great many seeds as they take in poor spots and ill-furrowed ground. However, it's better than just scattering the seeds and hoping for the best as was the practice for many generations. It's in times like this, when you're doing the work of ten men—or mucking the stables, a foul experience beyond any argument—that you can't help but wish you had some thralls on hand to do it for you. Alas, your morals restrict such possibilities.
Still, time at simple work leaves ample time for socializing. Seeing as you're not going anywhere anytime soon, you figure you might as well strike up a conversation with Kare and Vesna.
"So, Kare," your foot sinks slightly in a particularly squishy patch of dirt, "when did you get that hood? It looks nice, with the silver on the green, but I've never seen you wearing it before."
"Ah, you like it?" He grins a rather wolfish grin as he fingers the brim. His golden gaze flicks towards Vesna, who just-so-happens to be looking to the hills in all-too-innocent fashion, "A certain someone made it for me during Yule. A gift much too fine for one such as myself, but a gift it was given as, so a gift I shall continue to wear."
Kare's fondness for wordplay takes a moment to parse, but the way a smile graces Vesna's face is all the clarity you need. An often quiet woman, Vesna rarely speaks unless she believes her words are necessary—a trait clearly passed on to her children. Still, as one of the oldest on the farm, there's no wonder why she chooses to spend her time with Kare Wolf-Seek, as they are quite close in age and attitude. Both take life one step at a time, never dwelling too long on the past while keeping an eager eye on the future.
'He and she will be married by year's end, mark my words,' Blackhand chuckles as you roll your eyes.
Paw and pinkie twist together as Kare and Vesna work as one to sow the fields. With your help, the work progresses swiftly and, by late midday, you're all done with this section of land. There's a few more to do, but those can be tackled in the following days. For now, though, you turn your attention to Kare as he and Vesna start making their way towards the gate.
"Hey, Kare!" His ears twitch as you call out to him, "I've got a task I need your help with."
He and Vesna pause just as they set foot onto the path. A flicker of irritation crosses both their faces, but disappears as quick as it came as they look back your way, "How urgent is it? Vesna and I promised to help Kazimir with the horses when we finished our work."
Your face twists into a light frown, "Shouldn't he have finished with that by now? All he needed to do was clean and feed them, not that much to it."
"Kazimir has fear of horses," Vesna picks that moment to speak, having stayed mostly silent up until that point, "Cannot stand being near to horses."
Her Norse is rough and fairly simplistic, having struggled the most out of all your Slavic retainers to learn your mother-tongue. She can understand it just fine, as far as you can tell, it's the speaking that she struggles with. ...Which, now that you think about it, might be one of the reasons she keeps quiet most of the time.
"I see," you mutter as you run finger and thumb across jaw and chin. While you'd very much like to find Stigmar, it's not like you're going to be failing if you don't. He'll come back to the house sooner or later and you can just speak to him then. However... "Well, in that case, why don't I come and help out? Sooner it's done, the sooner you can come help me."
Kare nods, the wind playfully batting at his hood, "I reckon that'll work."
With that said and done, you, Kare, and Vesna all make your way to the stables located on the inside of the fence. As you do, you note that Tryggr and Trausti, true to their word, had indeed replaced the questionable post with one uniform to the rest. As Tryggr's voice rings cheerily from the inside of the house, it's clear that they finished earlier than expected.
Regardless, the stables are just off to the side of the house, where a slightly less well-travelled path leads you straight to a set of sliding double-doors—one of your own design, in fact! Kazimir sits on a stool as he wields a stick to sketch drawings in the foot-trampled dirt. They don't seem to have much thought behind them, more a way to pass idle time than anything else.
As Kazimir spots you, though, he quickly wipes the dirt away with a sharp kick as he scrambles to his feet. "H-Halla!" He's quick to swallow the lump in his throat, "I-I-I was just resting a-after looking after th-the," he struggles greatly as he stutters along—a vocal tic that seems ever-present no matter his mood—before managing to force out the difficult word in a great, hollering shout, "horses!"
You raise an empty palm and shake your head, "It's fine to be scared, Kazimir," he flinches as you speak, your words drilling through him like the carpenter does to wood, "just as long as your fear doesn't hinder others."
He swallows, not really listening to your words as he nods, "R-right, well," he rubs at the nape of his neck as he rocks back and forth on his heels, a slight slouch to his posture as he glances to the doorway, "C-can you h-help me, please?"
You were already going to, so you simply nod, smile, and get to work.
The doors slide open to reveal some hungry-looking horses looking eagerly to the door. Hay fills their troughs as you, Kare, Vesna, and—to a lesser extent—Kazimir feed, water, and clean both Morningsilver and Sundancer as well as the foal trailing behind Morningsilver. It had been a great deal of trouble getting the horses to breed, as they seemed to have it out for each other, but you eventually got a colt for the trouble.
While you've not yet named the thing, it's clear enough from the flames in his mane and the silver sparkles rising from his hooves that the colt is going to be of a high quality. Maybe even surpassing his parents!
Regardless, four sets of hands make short work of the stable. Leaving the string-looped brush to dangle from the hook-covered wall, you stifle a yawn as you lace your fingers together and stretch your arms high overhead. Just as another yawn threatens to spill free of your mouth, the door slides open and a familiar face pokes his head inside.
"Halla!" Magni Littlerock's eyes light up as he sees you, a broad grin spreading on his face as he waves you over, "Come quick, I've got good news!"
Sharing an arched brow with Kare, you shrug and make your way over to the open door as Magni eagerly points towards the gate at the bottom of the hill. Following his pointing finger, you find yourself gazing at a well-armed party of large, strong men talking amongst themselves. There's nine in total and none of their faces seem familiar.
A frown tugs at the corners of your lips as you consider the possibilities. Magni said that he had good news, so the strangers are probably not enemies, though that could have been a ruse or him trying to get your attention in an inconspicuous way. Still, you'll give the men the benefit of the doubt for the time being. After all, they haven't shown any ill-will your way yet.
The largest among them catches your eye immediately, for he is a Berserk—as are a smattering of the men behind him. They're clearly warriors and good ones at that, so why have they come to your humble farm?
Fortunately, Magni has the answers for the questions you hadn't yet asked, "That's Jogrim Foestep and I met him in Asvir. He's from Jurgdby and he's in the horse-rearing business, so, when I told him of your horses, he was eager to see them and maybe even talk business!"
Parsing through the river-rapids-like deluge of words, you eventually find yourself nodding along. Jogrim is clearly well-off—the fine embroidery around his cuffs and collar are of a quality only the wealthy can achieve—and, frankly, the horses might be more trouble than they're worth. Especially since the damn things can't stand each other. Getting someone to take one or both off your hands could be a boon... As long as you make a little bit of profit on it, of course.
However, there's something that leaves you uneasy about this whole thing. What're the odds that Magni, Vagn, and Hakon would meet a stranger in Asvir who just so happened to both be interested in horses and have enough money to consider buying your own? That, plus the strangers making noise in Asvir, immediately puts you on edge and a quick headcount only heightens your unease. Of all your retainers, only six of them are nearby and able to help should a fight break out. Seven versus nine is a losing battle by and large, though strength disparity would certainly play a part.
You'll have to have a conversation with Magni and the others about inviting strangers to the house, but, for now, you'll just have to hope that it's all happenstance and you're worried about nothing. After all, it's a poor host who turns away strangers at the door.
Telling Kazimir and the others to prepare the horses for inspection, you take Magni along as you start your approach with a plastered-on smile.
Your approach is noticed as soon as you emerge from the stable's shadows. The warmth on your skin immediately improves your mood as you make your way down the hill, the sun doing its job in smoothing out your wrinkled nerves.
"Greetings, mistress of the house!" Jogrim lifts his hand in greeting as you catch a whiff of the mutton hidden within the satchel on his waist. Your mouth starts to water as your suspicions do the same. "I am called Jogrim Foestep and I have heard you have some quality horseflesh!"
"You heard right, Jogrim Foestep," your estimations of him as a warrior grow sharply as you feel the thick callouses on his meaty hands. "I'm Halla Sunshine and you're welcome to my farm, though," you lay a wary eye on the iron of his men, "I'll have to ask your men to either stay outside or leave their weapons with my men, as one can never be too cautious."
Jogrim nods readily as he gestures for his men to do as you ask, the lot of them stepping out beyond the gate, "A fair request from a fairer woman. These are turbulent times we live in, after all, and just caution is a sign of the wise."
"Well," you clap your hands as you start moving up the hill, "if you'll follow me, I'll take you to the hors-"
Jogrim cuts you off with a laugh, "What's with the hurry? Come," he waves you over to him as he reaches into his coin purse, "have a bite to eat with me, as I never do business without first getting to know my partner-to-be." From the bag comes several things that have no right to fit in something so small. An overhead tent, table, chairs, mead, and meat come out one after the other as a dining arrangement is swiftly erected on your lawn.
Sharing a glance with your men, who shrug, you can only sigh and take the seat across from Jogrim as he honors you by serving you himself. Mead flows into your cup as he unveils the bundle of mutton on the table, your stomach rumbling at the sight of your favored food.
"I heard mutton is your favorite food," he explains as he cuts the tender flesh and serves it in your bowl, "so I had my men procure some before setting out. I've found in my travels that making a good impression is often worth its weight in gold."
"An opinion we share, it seems," the mead has a pleasant aroma and it tastes even better. Sweetened with some fragrant herb, it lingers for just long enough to burn itself into your memory before disappearing down your throat. Despite the worries filling you moments before, you can't help but feel a bit warmer towards the man. "Tell me, Jogrim, why have you come to the Hading Valley? Surely you can't have come all this way for me."
"A fine question!" He laughs heartily as he slaps his knee, "My brother-in-law, Griss Strongthrow, has been asking me to come and visit him for the longest time." Leaning in, he offers a conspiratorial wink as his voice lowers to a mock-whisper, "Between you and me, Griss' home is nothing compared to mine and, if I had it my way, he'd be visiting me. Alas," he shrugs and leans back in his chair, "I can't ignore his requests when it's my only sister who sends them." He puts an odd emphasis on 'only', though you can't seem to find a reason why.
"A travesty, I'm sure," you reply as the first bite of mutton passes your lips. Immediately, any thoughts you may have had about his odd word choice flees your mind as the taste hits your mouth. Rich in flavor and thick with fat, it's a delight to have on your tongue and you soon find yourself staring at the barren bottom of your now empty bowl. "This," you remark as you tap the tip of your knife against the lip of the bowl, "is good mutton."
"Thank you very much," Jogrim beams as he too finishes off his own helping. "Never have I had the pleasure of working with such fine animals before coming here, so I feared I may have ruined it in my inexperience. I'm quite pleased to hear I haven't!"
"Wait," your brows furrow as your quirk your head, "you made this?"
"Indeed I did, Sunshine, and I'll ask that you don't hold it against me," he nods as he leans back in his chair. "After all, it's not often one has a woman aboard a ship, so, if one wants to have a decent meal, one needs to get familiar with the cooking flame."
'He's not wrong,' Blackhand mutters as the conversation turns this way and that, 'I picked up a few cooking techniques during my voyages, though I don't remember any now.'
The sun creeps closer to the horizon as you slowly find your smile growing more and more earnest. Laughter leaves your lips as he utters joke after joke, his charisma undeniable as you soon find yourself thinking warmly of the man.
Deep down, though, the fact that Jogrim Foestep could very well be an enemy burns bright, defiant to the end in the light of his charisma.
Eventually, the stable doors swing open as Kazimir comes stumbling down the hill. Such is his haste that he nearly trips on the way down, a Slavic swear leaving his lips as he manages to catch himself at the last moment.
Skidding to a halt at the foot of the hill, he's breathing heavily from the short trek, but still manages to make an announcement, "Th-the horses are re-ready."
"Splendid!" Jogrim smiles as he rises to his feet, his hands clapping together as he unbuckles his sword and sax before handing them—along with his spear and shield—off to Hakon, who had been watching with Magni and Vagn nearby. Before he follows you up the hill, though, he pauses before Kazimir and levels a stern glare his way, "Now, young man, it isn't polite to swear before a lady such as your mistress, let alone in a language she may not speak. One must always be upfront in their intentions, else be stricken with nid."
Kazimir blinks, absolutely not understanding what in the heck Jogrim's talking about, and just offers a nod in response, "Uh, r-right, I'll, um, k-keep it in mind?"
Jogrim's eyes linger on him for a moment longer before he sighs and shrugs. Turning to you as you resume your travels, he mutters beneath his breath, "Forgive me for asking, but who was that young man? I can't help but feel like I've seen him before."
"His name's Kazimir, a Slav."
"A Slav?" Jogrim tilts his head as he rubs at his curly, bush-like red beard, "I did do some raiding in those parts some years back, I might have encountered him then."
"...Right," could Jogrim have...? No, what're the odds of that?
...The same odds of someone happening to have an interest in your horses and the money to buy them off you.
Your gut twists itself into knots as you reach the door and slide it open. Light shines into the otherwise dark building as Vesna and Kare turn to look. As Vesna's eyes move from you to Jogrim, she stills as her breathing kicks up a notch. The sharp scent of stark fear fills the air with its acrid stench as you and Kare share a glance.
"Jogrim," you begin as Vesna shivers and shakes at the name, "forgive me but I need to take care of something. Kare is well-versed in the horses," he isn't, but he's quick on his feet and able to bullshit with the best of them, should he be so inclined. "Vesna, can you come with me?"
Vesna is quick to follow you from the stables, her eyes never leaving Jogrim for a moment. Jogrim offers an arched brow as he watches you leave, but says nothing about it as he turns to Kare and starts to speak.
Taking shelter in the shadow of the stables, you take her sweaty hands in your own as you look her in the eye, "What's wrong, Vesna?" Though you ask the question, some part of you already knows the answer.
"He killed Plamen," that's a name you haven't heard before. "He killed Bratko. Took me and children and burn home. All before eyes."
Your lips form a thin line as anger burns hot in your chest, "Go to the house and tell Tryggr and Trausti to ready for battle. Hopefully they won't be needed, but we'll have to see." Tryggr and Trausti in full battle garb will likely make the difference in numbers should a fight break out, but no plan survives contact with the enemy.
Vesna nods hurriedly as she turns and makes for the house. She's not running, both to avoid tripping on the uneven ground and to not tip Jogrim's men off, but she is moving quickly. You watch her long enough to make certain she makes it to the house before returning to the barn.
Rounding the corner, you pause in the doorway as you lock eyes with Kare. His hand had slipped down to his sword as Jogrim closely inspected the colt. He's waiting for your word, or a nod, or anything giving him leave to strike Jogrim dead.
Do you give it?
[ ] Yes (Starts a fight)
[ ] No (Avoids a fight)
0~0~0
AN: Originally, I was going to have Halla just shake her head here, but I decided to let you folks decide for yourselves what you do.
I have very mixed feelings on this vote. Attacking Jogrim is probably a bad move politically, and we need to try and avoid those, but I am sympathetic to Vesna and Kare here, and securing Kare's loyalty like this is also definitely valuable.
I'm also notably suspicious of Jogrim. Not due to the raiding, but due to everything else. Dude gives me bad vibes. Which maybe makes me more inclined not to fight him here and now, honestly...if he's actually not legit, we can probably take care of him later with fewer political consequences and after we learn more about what's up with him.
But I think the deciding factor here is that he's a guest. He gave up his weapons on the basis we wouldn't attack him. Doing so now would be dishonorable. If we're to kill him, we'll do it later when we aren't violating hospitality traditions.
That would be odd...we haven't killed anyone's sister (I don't think Halla has ever killed a woman...she obviously would under the right circumstances, but it's never come up). I agree its significant, but not in quite that way. I admit I'm unsure as to exactly how, though.
We have yet to 'start' business negotiations but I don't think attacking someone on our land, who ostensibly came to talk is anything but Nid. On top of that, nothing he did was technically illegal. Slavs are outside of the Law, right? As weird as this guy is coming off it would be Nid to just attack him out of the blue.
As much as it sucks, Jogrim didn't do anything that breaks Norse Law. Ambushing him after you invited him into your home seems like it would generate incredible amounts of Nid. The most we can do here is sternly asking him to leave.
