[X] Offer the Dwarves the three pots of strange substance found in the Underhouse in exchange for breaking the password and returning it once they are done.
-[X] Be willing to offer Goodwill instead as suggested if that doesn't work.
0~0~0
After being tested, welcomed, and then poisoned, you sit across from Toki as you lay your offer out on the large, round, stone-carved table forming a plateau between the two of you. Clearing your throat with a cough, you place your hands upon the table and start talking, "I have some pots of carbon flour that I'm willing to part with in exchange for you to both crack the passcode to this," you lay the ledger-slate upon the table, "and give it back once you are complete."
Toki's brows shoot high on his head as he leans in, a low whistle escaping his lips, "That, my friend, is a fancy ledger indeed. Touch-screen and thin as a finger? Mighty precious indeed." Nodding to himself, he turns back to you with greed in his eye, "One pot to crack it and a second to give it back."
Which leaves you with one, that's a fine bargain! "An acceptable deal," you begin as you reach across the table.
"Struck and sealed," finishes Toki as he accepts your hand.
(Lost the dwarven ledger! You'll get it back on Summer 11/Turn 1)
(-2 Pots of Carbon Flour)
0~0~0 Writing a Book (Wordplay: 17) 17 Successes
With that odd wooden writing-stick in hand, you set to work crafting the book that's haunted your thoughts for years now. After practicing on wax tablets for hundreds of hours, you've managed to refine the layout just enough to fit onto the hundred pages that you've got on hand.
The scritch-scratch of stick-on-parchment fills your ears as you work hard. Day turns to night as the moon turns to sun. Weeks pass in a blur as you take breaks only to water and feed yourself, the only rest you get is the bare minimum required to function.
Abjorn was worried—everyone feared for your sanity—but you brush aside their concerns. They don't understand that if you don't do this now, you'll never do it at all!
But after a month of constant work, you've done it.
Your book—which, on the surface, is 'merely' a guide to life and how to work a farm—is finally complete.
Now all that's left is to find a cover and to name the damn thing.
What do you want to call it?
[ ] The Hallamal
[ ] Write in
0~0~0
AN: Another short update, but I've got to look after the dog so what can you do?
0~0~0 Raising the Runestone + Speaking with Halfdan
Ropes strain against painted stone as men work as one to lift it towards the heavens. It is a contest between strength of arm and force of will against the weight of all-engrossing gravity. The world demands collapse as gritting teeth and straining muscle defy its will.
Slowly, impossibly, the strength of man wins out over the force of ages past. Carved history, tales of daring bravery and thunder-cracking might, rise from the dirt. The grooved surface of painted legacy turns its eyes skyward as your father's name stands forevermore on the towering, landscape-dominating runestone.
Steinarr Hallsson will be remembered under many names—Freedfire and Greenthumb not the least among them—but to you his name was and always will be Dad.
With sword and plow in hand and a dogged soul in his chest, he takes his place amongst his ancestors. Let the wise Gods part before his might as the lesser men tremble at his passing.
As you lay hand upon the sickeningly cold surface, you leave your teary-eyed, heart-aching mark in the stone. Breathing deep of the tear-salted air, you step away from both the rock and the sorrow of your heart. You'll miss him—by the Gods, you'll miss him!—but, at the very least, you'll see him once the Valkyries beckon your presence in the godly halls.
Until then, you'll just have to carry on. Life doesn't end just because someone has, you've still got work to do. The fields need tending for the coming Summer. The cattle need milking and their stomachs need their daily feed. The sheep need shearing and their wool needs to be spun. Cloth needs mending and tears need to be wiped away. Children need hugs and husbands need kisses.
Life moves on, so too must you.
Joining your family after they leave their own marks upon the hill-topping rock, you mingle with the feasting guests as they recover from the effort of raising the stone. From the corner of your eye, you spot Halfdan and his family as they arrive at the feast. As they start digging into the laid-out food and drink, you're reminded of something you've been meaning to ask for the longest time yet, unfortunately, never got the chance. Life, simply, gets in the way sometimes.
Extricating yourself from the conversation Eric, Audrikr, and Nokkvi Good-Oars had ambushed you with—which was of the various different methods to utilize ships in fishing—you make your way over to Halfdan as he enjoys a platter of sauce-marinated chicken wings. With a flick of the wrist and a flexing of will, a wing leaps to your hands as you rip into the savory, smoked flesh.
"I'm sorry about your father," Halfdan says after swallowing a mouthful of meat. "He and I may have been enemies at one point, but a life as storied as his deserves a fitting ending and I'm happy he had one."
"Thank you," your sincerity shines forth as you nod, "but I'm not here to speak of that."
"Oh?" Halfdan sets aside the platter as he leans in, curiosity shining in his gaze. "Have you finally accepted that the atgeir is future of warfare?"
You snort, "While I love the atgeir, I can't deny that swords are sexy."
"Damn fool! You'll see the truth one day!" Halfdan mock-scowls before breaking out into laughter. "Good fun, good fun," he wipes the tear from his eye before turning again to you. "Now then, what is it you're after?"
"Other then seeing how you and your family are doing after the raid, I'm thinking back to the day we met," Halfdan tilts his head to the side, surprise showing on his face. "Why was Reidar Swordfury after you?"
"My family are recovering well, thank you for asking," Halfdan nods half-heartedly, clearly distracted by the other question you've asked him. "Reidar Swordfury wanted to buy horses from me. I refused him, citing how suspicious he and his men were and how little I knew of them. He took that poorly and demanded the horses. When I refused him again, he drew iron," Halfdan shrugs, sending a nod your way, "and the rest is history."
Your brows furrow as you frown, "Did he say why he needed the horses?"
Halfdan shakes his head, "He avoided the question when I asked it of him, only saying that he didn't want to be late to 'something in Vestfold'. Seemed really anxious about not making it in time to whatever he had waiting for him there." (Raw Hugr Check: 18) 18 Successes, damn
As you add that information to the web of theories in your mind's eye, you can't help but feel the tickling of intuition in the back of your head. Following the guiding hand, you find yourself focusing on an aspect of Reidar's kenning, Swordfury. Specifically, the sword part of it.
If Reidar was after some kind of sword in Vestfold, then he may have feared someone else getting to it before he did. If it was a sword of renown, then retrieving it from a hypothetical rival would be that much harder. Have there been any swords of renown found in Vestfold recently?
...There is one, but if someone you're fated to duel to the death has that of all weapons, then you're in for a day of pain.
...Goodie.
Regardless, you've got some time before you and Reidar next meet, so you might as well enjoy what time you have before then.
Just as you intend to do just that, the crowd of feasting party-goers stills at the passage of a tall, bare-chested man. Stripped to the waist and clutching a wicked-looking, curved knife in hand, Vidar Bignose eyes the runestone with deeply sunken eyes. Heavy bags cling to his cheeks as he presses a hand to the rock and lowers his head.
"I failed you, o' Captain of mine," Vidar screws his eyelids shut as he whimpers, all eyes fixed to him. Abjorn steps forward, only to still as Sten places a hand on his shoulder and shakes his head, "I swore that I'd follow you wherever the winds may take you, that I'd fall by your side on the day of fate. I failed that oath, my word has been broken," he lifts the knife high above his head, its sharp point gleaming in the mid-day sun, "and only blood can mend this treachery."
The knife falls, plunging into Vidar's chest as, with closed eyes and gritting teeth, he carves a fist-sized hole in his body. The blood-drenched knife falls to the grass as trembling fingers reach into the cavity and find something precious.
"A curse!" Vidar cries his throat ragged as his hand finds purchase in his chest, "A curse upon all who'd disturb this stone!" His arm pulls back as his red-stained hand emerges with a fist-sized, beating mass between his fingers, "A curse upon all who'd bring me back!"
With a final roar of sorrow-wracked pain, Vidar crushes his own heart against the painted surface of the runestone.
Vidar Bignose would not pass on for another ten years, but his story ends nonetheless.
Abjorn Bearbreaker watches with horror as his father collapses to the floor.
He'll be managing the inheritance in the coming months.
0~0~0 Exploring further into the hills (Hamingja: 25) 25 Successes
As your fylgja soars above the ever-higher hills, you notice something rather odd. A large herd of prime cattle, all by their lonesome, without a tender anywhere in sight for miles!
...This could be a nice little boost to your livestock, if you were so bold as to make them your own.
0~0~0
Personal (Pick 2/3, if no Exploration is picked. 1 Free Social):
[ ] (Lost Herd?) There's a large herd of high-quality cattle out in the highlands beyond your property. Write in what you wish to do about it.
[ ] (Here, Kitty-Kitty) Attempt to make friends with the skogtatt
-[ ] (Write in) How do you go about this?
[ ] (Playdates) Set up a playdate between one/multiple of your kids and one/multiple of other kids. (Write in)
[ ] (Violent) Pick a fight or spar with... (Sparring with people reveals a summery of their character sheets)
-[ ] Spar with Abjorn, your husband
-[ ] Spar with Stigmar
-[ ] Someone else (Write in)
[ ] (Personal) Spend time with... (Write in)
[ ] (Shopping) Ask Abjorn to buy something for you (Write in) (Can only be used to buy or sell things you are already aware of and cannot haggle)
[ ] (Court) Send Abjorn to make a case at the Thing (Write in)
[ ] (Crafting) Try to make something (Write in) (Hugr+Some kind of crafting skill)
-[ ] (Optional) Focus on repairing something (Write in)
[ ] (Poetry) Try to realize an Inspiration (Write in one of your Inspirations)
0~0~0
Exploration/Travel (Pick 1 or none):
[ ] (Visit) Go visit... (1 Left)
-[ ] The Witch... even though she's dead
-[ ] Asvir!
--[ ] (Optional) Attend the Thing
-[ ] Buriby, Osborn's Farm
-[ ] Glebby, Sverre's Farm
-[ ] Hasviby, Hasvir's Farm
-[ ] Halfdanby, Halfdan's Farm
-[ ] Jurgen's Cave
[ ] (Exploration) Go on a walk through...
-[ ] The fields!
--[ ] (Optional) Send your fylgja in your place (Does not cost an action)
-[ ] The Hading!
--[ ] (Optional) Send your fylgja in your place (Does not cost an action)
--[ ] (Optional) Try to find the Heart of the Hading
-[ ] The hills!
--[ ] (Optional) Send your fylgja in your place (Does not cost an action)
--[ ] (Optional) Range further from your home
0~0~0
Training: You have 69 XP to spend as you see fit.
[ ] (Research) Try to figure out how things work (Write in)
[ ] (Seeress) Learn seidr with the Seeress (Only available during Summer)
-[ ] Write in up to 3 things to request of her
[ ] (Drifa) Teach Drifa some of your tricks (Write in)
[ ] (Blackhand) Try to develop old/train new hugareida tricks (Write in)
[ ] (Training) Hamr (255 XP to rank up)
-[ ] (Optional) Train a hamr skill or trick (Write in)
[ ] (Training) Hugr (255 XP to rank up)
-[ ] (Optional) Train a hugr skill or trick (Write in)
[ ] (Training) Fylgja (102 XP to rank up)
-[ ] (Optional) Train a fylgja skill or trick (Write in)
0~0~0
Orthstirr Available: 1244
How do you want to use your orthstirr? You can turn on passive tricks here. (Leaving this blank is assumed to be boosting all your stats to max)
[ ] (Orthstirr Usage) (Write in) (Optional)
0~0~0
Fylgja Capacity: 13/13
Do you want to withdraw or deposit anything in your fylgja?
[ ] Write in (Optional)
0~0~0
Equipment/Capacity/Shapeshifting/Alloy/Pocket/Whatever Management
What do you want to have equipped on your person, in your capacity, or for your shapeshifting? Leaving this blank means that no changes are made.
[ ] Write in (Optional)
0~0~0
Property Management: You have 96 Work Dice Available
How do you want to use them? (Leaving this blank is assumed to be the same as last turn)
[ ] Write in (Optional)
[X] Plan Household Activities
-[X] (Personal) Spend time with...
--[X] Abjorn
--[X] Help him deal with whatever he's feeling about what happened to his father. Just generally be there for him.
-[X] (Lost Herd?) There's a large herd of high-quality cattle out in the highlands beyond your property. Write in what you wish to do about it.
--[X] Approach cautiously and with an eye towards seeing if the cattle belong to someone (using Tricks and Seidr to check for spirits and other weirdness in particular, plus our Hag Stone, and suggesting Abjorn use his sense of smell), bringing basic gifts (food, alcohol, maybe some money) to make friendly with anyone who shows up claiming ownership. We'll claim the herd if there's nobody there even after we check very thoroughly and make sure, though.
--[X] Keep the herd separate from our other cattle even after bringing it in, in case people show up later.
--[X] Bring Abjorn, Stigmar, and Vagn.
-[X] (Personal) Spend time with...
--[X] Our Household
--[X] See how everyone is doing, hang out with friends and stuff.
--[X] See if anyone is interested in having their Fylgja revealed. We need to grab some Experiences for that, but we want to do that anyway. Also check and see if anyone would like their stats Infused (though obviously, we talk around what we're actually doing).The latter offer is only for people sworn to us, we trust Vagn enough to tell him about this, but it requires us to make a permanent investment, so receiving it requires a permanent Oath.
-[X] [Social] (Playdates)
--[X] Klaus-Kjaran-Kadrina (Coast Family)
--[X] Hopefully a smaller gathering will give our kids more opportunities to bond.
-[X] (Exploration) Go on a walk through...
--[X] The hills!
---[X] (Optional) Send your fylgja in your place (Does not cost an action)
---[X] (Optional) Range further from your home
-[X] Special Note: On all Crafting add the following if possible unless otherwise specified:
--[X] For metal items have Heat Hold available just in case
--[X] Using Sundersight (+1d3 Successes)
--[X] Stoking Frami, Virthing, and Saemd (for +1 Success each, +3 successes total) to enhance the crafting process
-[X] (Research)
--[X] Continue teaching Bjorney Eyespeech – 1 Research
--[X] Try and experiment with using a technique like Recall (ie: something telekinetic, using strings or fingers as our visualization) in our unbinding of needlebinding, doing it mentally rather than physically – 1 Research
--[X] Get the scarecrow's permission and try sewing gloves (filled with straw) onto the ends of its arms, potentially making slits so the straw it is filled with can mix with those in the gloves – 1 Research
--[X] Offer Odr, Food, and potentially places to stay or, in theory, Experiences, in our recruitment efforts for spirits to work for us, exact details depending on the specific spirit, what they offer us i exchange, and the other specifics of the arrangement –1 Research
--[X] Try and look through our Fylgja's eyes while it is in the fold between worlds and otherwise experiment with using it to perceive spirits – 1 Research
---[X] Use this in concert with our recruiting efforts to find recruitment targets and eliminate any we get a bad feeling about (especially from Weighed On The Scales, which we're certainly using) from consideration
--[X] Try and use a Rewrite to stretch the bounds of plausibility and make the Sunfire Hugareida as an Alloy out of Ignition and Unending Time In The Sun – 1 Research
-[X] (Training) Hamr (255 xp to rank up)
--[X] Train Hamr Itself 138xp (69xp)
-[X] (Work Dice Usage)
--[X] Buildings: 6 Quality, 2 Living Space, 1 Storage, 2 Workshop (13 Total)
--[X] Resources: 6 Quality, 8 Food, 0 Goods, 0 Silver (14 Total)
--[X] Livestock: 8 Quality, 7 Food, 0 Goods, 0 Silver (15 Total)
--[X] Crafting: Create two Superior Mail Shirts for Dorri's Deal (8 Total)
--[X] Construction: Improve Building – Workshop by 12 (12 Total)
--[X] Experiences: Capture the Experiences of the three things needed for Fylgja Revealing (27 Total)
--[X] Conversion: Spend for 6 Research Dice (12 Total)
-[X] (Capacity)
--[X] Remove Beaconlight, Vows of Love, Unleash Inferno, and Sailwind.
--[X] Add the three Fylgja Revealing Experiences
-[X] (Incidentals)
--[X] Adding Taafl Board Capacity Gains to: Sigurdr, Hallbjorn,
--[X] Receiving Metal from Dwarves: 24 oz Forged Iron, 6 oz Storm Iron
0~0~0
(No Increases)
Research
0~0~0 Bjorney's Eyespeech
Teaching Bjorney Eyespeech is coming along very nicely! He can actually communicate in short bursts of intent and emotion, though he still struggles with the finer details like exact word choice and grammar. In time and with effort, those too will come to him.
But, for now, he deserves a certain special treat.
He does enjoy his honey!
(Bjorney needs one more training session to unlock Eyetalking)
0~0~0 (Technique Visualization Experimentation)
Asgeirr ripped his hat while playing outside, which gives you the perfect opportunity to test a certain idea you've had rattling around in that brain of yours. Stretching your fingers and rolling your neck, you settle in for the long haul.
It's dreary work, undoing needlebinding, but it's work that has to be done. Removing the torn strands is a long, arduous process, but perhaps it needn't be?
Taking a deep breath, darkness falls across your vision as you cast yourself into your thought-cave. From the empty black pit comes bursts of incandescing color as strands of thought weave into fingers of intent in your mind.
As your vision returns to you, it's to a mostly-unchanged sight. The hat still needs to be worked on, but some of the as-of-yet-untouched strands seem to move on their own—as if unseen fingers worry at the knots.
There could very well be something to this idea of yours, you just need to work at it.
0~0~0 Sewing hands onto the scarecrow
The scarecrow seems extremely happy to have hands as it immediately sets to work on the fields—though, with winter coming in force, not much needs to be done.
Still, it's nice to not have to put as much effort into the fieldwork as you used to. Perhaps there's other things that this fellow can do?
(+9 Work Dice from the Scarecrow)
0~0~0 Spirit Recruitment Drive
The minor, empty-minded spirits—which you find yourself referring to as 'tomvaettir'—seem delighted by the mere suggestion of having someplace to live. They roam around the soulscape, feeding on the plant-life and the even lesser spirits that crop up from time to time.
As further tomvaettir enter your soul, you suspect that you'll start to see more complex spirits seeking to feed on them. Depending on disposition, they could even try feeding on you...
(You know have a collection of tomvaettir in your soulscape)
(Tomvaettir - A minor sort of spirit that feeds upon plant life and whatever is weak enough to be devoured. They appear to have little in the way of conscious thought and seem almost emptier than your average spirit. Perhaps you could 'fill' that emptiness somehow?)
0~0~0 Looking through your Fylgja's eyes while it is in the fold
As you send your owl back to the fold between worlds, you take a deep breath and close your eyes.
Opening your owl's eyes, you find that it isn't an owl at all, but a sort of swirling mass of ever-shifting shapes and colors. Looking around, you spy your idling body as you breath in and out in a gray-scale world. There doesn't seem to be much in the way of differences between the fold and Midgard—in truth, it may even be the other side of the same coin.
0~0~0 Rewrite Experimentation
Grabbing hold of reality's fabric, you force it to follow the stitch you set.
With a surge of will, trickles of sweat, and tightly-gritting teeth, the warmth of the sun blossoms in your soul as Ignition and your Unending Time in the Sun merge into one.
Breathing out a breath of sunlight, you point a smirking finger towards the sun blazing away in the high-noon sky.
"I'm just like you, now!" You declare, voice full of pride.
(With a Rewrite, you've forced reality to bend to your will and have formed the Sunfire hugareida as an Alloy)
0~0~0
Development
0~0~0 Crafting: Create two Superior Mail Shirts for Dorri's Deal
Grinning to yourself and the world, you exchange a pleasant handshake with Dorri as you unload the chest containing a pair of Superior-quality mail shirts.
0~0~0 Experience Capturing
Breathing in and out, you stalk across the landscape for a day and a night. It's not easy work, opening and closing all your sense at once, but it's work that you see done nonetheless.
After some time, you come up with three Experiences to stow away in your memories.
(Experience Gained: The Swish of a Sheet as it is Swept Aside)
(Experience Gained: The First Warmth of the Rising Dawn)
(Experience Gained: The Glimmer of Cobwebs Bearing the Moon's Light)
0~0~0 Spending time with Abjorn
Late one evening, as you bid Kurt and Haydis a pleasant night—the pair had been trying for a second child for some time now, to unfortunately little result—you find yourself finishing up some light housework with Abjorn at your side.
With wet rag in hand, you scour away the gristle clinging to the basin of the cooking pot as Abjorn stares into the fire. His thick, callous-ridden fingers worry away at the new buckle on his belt—a strong, bronze item he'd received as inheritance. As, with a triumphant smile, you finally manage to break the chunk that'd been giving you such trouble, Abjorn turns to you with brows knit together and eyes struggling to look your way, his mien that of a confused, conflicted man trying to process difficult emotions
"Halla?" Even his whispers warble, like he's unsure of even his voice, "I... have a question."
You frown as you set the pot and rag aside. Taking the seat next to his, you lay your head on broad-yet-hunched shoulders as you take his meaty hand in your own. "I'm here for you, whatever it may be."
His fingers wrap around your own as he nods and takes a deep breath. "Am I a bad son?"
"I..." Fear flashes in his eyes as you hesitate for a brief second. Realizing your error, you leap into action without a moment's notice, "What makes you think you're a bad son?"
"Well," he works his jaw. "When Vidar—when Dad—died, I, well, I felt..." He trails off as he dips his head, blonde hair falling across his eyes.
"How did you feel?" You run your fingers through his hair as you brush it away from his face. He leans into you, almost subconsciously. Though nearly insignificant in comparison to his own warmth, your presence seems to have a calming effect on your husband's mind.
"I," shame twists his face as he curls in on himself, but that doesn't stop his quiet voice from finishing the sentence, "I felt relieved. I was happy that Vi—that Dad—died!" He turns to you, pain writ in his upturned brows, "What kind of son feels joy at their father's passing?"
What do you say?
[ ] Write in
0~0~0
AN: I decided to cut it off here, because this is important enough for you to have a choice in the matter.
What you say here will have an affect on Abjorn.
No moratorium and what will likely be a short vote as I wish to get the herd section, at the very least, started.
[X] "Given everything you've told me, everything I've seen, and that your brother was waiting for his death, I think it says more about his quality as a father than your quality as a son."
0~0~0
This is something that your husband—no, Abjorn—has struggled with all his life. You can see it in the way he looks at himself in the water, that hint of revulsion lying beneath the quiet acceptance. This isn't something that can be solved with a few simple words or a grand speech. This... This is going to take a long time for him to deal with, for him to work through.
But, at the very least, you can help soothe the sorrow of his soul.
Rubbing small circles into his back, you take a moment to find your words—moving quickly, of course, for each second of silence is agonizing for Abjorn—and start to speak, "Given everything you've told me, everything I've seen, and that your brother was waiting for his death, I think that it says more about his quality as a father than your quality as a son."
Abjorn stays silent for a long while, his eyes locked to the flickering, near-dead embers of the hearth. His seat creaks beneath his weight as he shifts, slipping an arm free of your grasp, and tosses a fresh log into the fire. The flames start to lick at the wood, cautiously curious towards this strange, new food. In time, they'll take to it like a child does sweets, but that time is not yet now.
"Thank you, Halla," Abjorn nods, the deep rumble of his voice slicing through the blanket of verbal silence. "It's getting late, you should go to bed."
The clumsily-worded suggestion tells more than he wants it to. Though he may appear outwardly calm and collected—and to most, that is what they'd see—to the eye of his wife he might as well have shouted his true feelings from the top of his lungs.
Leaning in, you press a gentle kiss to his cheek—your lips brushing up against the pointy whiskers struggling to grow—and slip free of the seat. "Don't take too long, you hear?" You lay a palm on his shoulder, which he answers with his own, "It'll be cold without my bear to keep me warm!"
He smiles and squeezes your hand, "I'll be with you soon, just need to think for a bit."
You return the smile as you slip off to bed, "Don't think I won't hold you to it!"
While you can't be certain that your words had much of an effect, the disquiet within him seemed lessened as he joined you under the covers.
0~0~0 Lost Herd?
"So," Vagn asks as he trudges through the snow, his voice full of uncertainty, "it's not that I don't believe you, it's just that it's kinda crazy to think that somebody would just, I dunno, leave a herd of top-silver beef lying around, free for the taking."
"That's why I'm bringing him," you jerk a thumb at Abjorn, who carries a bundle of basic gifts under an arm, "the gifts, and a few other tricks that I've got up my sleeve."
"Abjorn?" Vagn's brows furrow as he tilts his head to the side, not quite getting your reasoning. "Obviously he'll be welcome if any fight breaks out, but how else would he help?"
Stigmar, thankfully, steps in as he clambers over a rock—his equipment rattling with his movement, "Bearbreaker's got a fine nose. If anyone's been nearby, he'll be able to sniff 'em out."
"Huh," Vagn regards Abjorn in a new light, "so, like, does that mean you can...?"
"I can," Abjorn nods.
Vagn clicks his tongue against his teeth as he grimaces, "Alright, then."
"What are you two talking about?" Stigmar stares at them, confusion writ in his eyes.
"I'll tell you when you're older," your words draw a round of giggles from the others and further confusion from poor Stigmar. To be honest, you weren't really sure what they were talking about either, but fortunately you don't have to explain yourself as you arrive at the herd.
"We're here!" You shout, pointing a finger towards the herd grazing in the same spot they were before. Turning to the others with a broad grin, the smile slips away as you're met with a wall of blank stares.
"Uh, Halla?" Vagn scratches at his bearded cheek, "There's nothing there."
A furtive glance confirms that, yes, the herd of cattle are, in fact, still there—much to your relief. Turning back around, you frown as you're met with similar answers from Abjorn and Stigmar.
"I smell," Abjorn takes a deep whiff of the air, the frown on his face deepening as he continues, "cows? And something else?"
Narrowing your eyes, you dig out a tool from your belt as an idea springs to mind. Offering the hagstone to the nearest person—who happened to be Stigmar—you direct him towards the herd, "Here, look through this."
Eyeing the hagstone warily, Stigmar hesitantly lifts it to his eye. Peering through it, he tenses as his mouth opens slightly, "Uh, Halla?"
"Yeah?" You lean in, anxiety starting to rise, "What do you see?"
"I see cows, yes, but also-"
"So," a booming voice echoes from nowhere as Stigmar stiffens, jaw snapping shut with a sharp click! "You're the ones who have been messing with my herd."
"I don't know what you're talking about," you answer as you tense, eyes darting every which way as you search for the source of the voice—a search that bears poor fruit.
"Lies!" The voice growls as a weight falls across your shoulders—the others in your group suffering similar pressure, if the way Stigmar staggers is anything to go off of. "I saw your fylgja circling overhead when my magic was dispelled and now you come again with hagstone in hand and blooded fighters at your back!"
The situation is rapidly devolving and you still can't find where the voice is coming from. If you don't find a way to calm him, then you'll have a fight on your hands.
What do you do?
[ ] Write in
0~0~0
AN: Looks like you've found yourself in something of a pickle. Can you get out of it in one piece?
No moratorium and what is likely to be a short vote, depending on how you play this.
[X] "No, I speak no lies, I was examining the area and found a group of cattle here unattended, this seemed strange and uncanny given their quality, so I came to investigate with my kin and allies to determine if they had an owner who needed to be informed that they had gotten lost. We came with _greeting gifts_ not intent to be thieves, though it would be foolish to travel in these troubled times unarmed."
-[X] You _did_ bring greeting gifts. _Use them as proof of your intentions_.
0~0~0
Knowing that you've got a bare handful of seconds before violence erupts, you step forward boldly and proclaim your innocence before all who would hear it, "I speak no lies! I was examining the area and found a group of cattle left unattended! Given their obvious quality, this seemed strange to me so I came to investigate with my allies and kin to determine if they had an owner who could reward us for a deed well done! We even brought gifts!"
Waving a hand at Abjorn, you gesture at the bundle of gifts under his arm as the voice seems to take a moment to ponder this. Silver-Tongue: 12 Successes
"I'll accept your words for what they are, but don't think that clears your name!" The voice thunders again. "That still doesn't explain why you felt the need to bring a hagstone! After all, a vittra's herd is always invisible. To bring a hagstone is a sure sign you mean trouble!"
For some reason, you get the feeling that you're talking to someone younger than yourself. You're not sure why, exactly, you feel this way, it's just your intuition picking up on cues that you yourself fail to see.
What do you do?
[ ] Write in
0~0~0
AN: A good result, you've bought some further time.
No moratorium, but this'll be the last update for today.
[X] "I didn't bring the hag stone for the herd, I had no idea they belonged to a vittra or that they were invisible. I don't even know why I can see them when nobody else can. I brought the stone to try and find their owner since I saw only the cattle themselves. Maybe something weird is going on with either my magic or yours? I can't see you, but can see the herd."
0~0~0
"I didn't bring the hagstone for the herd," you grit your teeth as you force yourself to stay calm. "I had no idea they belonged to a vittra or that they even were invisible! I only brought the stone to try and find their owner since I only saw the cattle." You shrug, anxiety spiking hard in the back of your head as you swallow the dryness clinging to your throat, "Maybe something weird is going with your or my magic? I can't see you, but can see the herd, clear as day." Silver-Tongue: 12 Successes
"Well..." The vittra hums to himself as he considers your words, "I suppose that vittra aren't especially common in these parts. Mo-" He cuts himself off with a cough, "I figured that there'd be less people here after our cattle rather than in Norrland, after all." The echo of clapping hands nearly sends your heart into orbit as the vittra, presumable, nods to himself. "Very we-"
His voice cracked.
Silence falls across the clearing—the only sound the gentle munching of cows and the swish of their tails.
There's an opportunity here, one that'll let you turn the tables on the vittra. All you have to do is grasp it.
What do you do?
[ ] Press the advantage and wrest control away from the vittra
[ ] Let it slide, it sounds like your words convinced him anyways
[X] Let it slide, it sounds like your words convinced him anyways
0~0~0
While the temptation to utterly demolish the kid is certainly tempting, you manage to hold yourself back just enough for the situation to progress smoothly. Bullying the poor kid wouldn't help matters much, but it would've allowed you to exert some control over the exchange and, therefore, give you more of a negotiating platform.
Alas, it was not meant to be.
The child-vittra coughs and sputters for a moment as he manages to find his footing. It's as he starts talking, though, that a new, significantly older voice makes itself known.
"Alright, what's all this racket then?" A gruff, older man's voice booms from nowhere as you silently pat yourself on the back for your restraint. It would've been bad if the child-vittra's father saw you picking on his son, after all.
This is your chance, you realize as the child-vittra, presumably, turns to answer his father. Interrupt the son to get your side of the story told first, just in case you weren't convincing enough. Of course, you could also just trust that you managed to sway the child to your side.
Regardless, you have to make a choice here,
[ ] Cut the child-vittra off
[ ] Let the child-vittra speak
0~0~0
AN: Not much to say here, other then that I would like to finish this turn up today.
"Dad!" The child-vittra exclaims as his father arrives on the scene, "These weirdos said that they're looking for you!"
"Is that so?" The father-vittra mutters to himself, the stink of cheap alcohol thick in the air, "Well what the fuck do you pasty fucks want, eh? I paid good silver to not be bothered by feckless runts like yourselves, so this'd better be good or you can fuck right off!"
Letting the child speak may have been a mistake...
Still, as the leader of this expedition, it falls on your shoulders to find a solution—or lead the charge, such as the case may be.
What do you do?
[ ] You've had enough of this, attack.
[ ] Attempt diplomacy
-[ ] Write in
[ ] Do as he says and fuck right off
0~0~0
AN: Sometimes, things work out and sometimes you make the wrong choice. You win some, you lose some, such is life.
Also, I accidentally wrote this while the vote was up, my apologies. I thought I had called it, I did not.
[X] Attempt diplomacy
-[X] "Sorry to disturb you, I saw your herd wandering around and wanted to check and see if we had a new neighbor, apparently your wards had a bit of a hiccup though? Well, regardless, we just wanted to make sure that everything was going to be alright and there were no misunderstandings--come to think of it, do you know who I'd need to touch base with about the invitation you got? I imagine the news might have gotten lost somewhere in the recent confusion."
-[X] Using Goal Tell to see what the vittra want, the Light Touch Trick to avoid giving offense, and Cool Off to keep our wits about us without losing our temper.
--[X] Spend 5 Odr on our check to smooth things over and limit any hiccups on our part. Remember the greeting gifts as part of the bribe to help further smooth things over.
0~0~0
Breathing in and out, you steady your emotions as you focus in on the current situation. Despite how much you'd really like to plant Sagaseeker's edge into this guy's face, that probably won't end well and you'd rather not have the blood of children on your hands.
Swallowing your pride for but a moment, you stare in the general direction of papa-vittra's eyes—at least where you assume them to be, "Sorry to disturb you, but I saw your herd wandering about," a finger draws a circle in the air, "and wanted to see if we had a new neighbor, but I guess your wards had something of a hiccup, though?" You cap that thought off with a shrug as you gesture to Abjorn, who hurriedly shuffles forward and places the bundle in your open hand. Unwrapping the cloth, you immediately feel eyes' touch as a drink-jar meets the sun's gaze, "We brought fine mead as a welcoming gift, though." (Silver-Tongue: 23+1(Friendly)+1(First Impressions)+1(Reward Dice)) 26 Successes, a Grand Success
Twin glints of booze-lusted greed shine from a suddenly-there hazy figure. As the shape shambles towards you, the vague shapes of its arms reaching out, you realize that this must be what happens when a vittra loses concentration on their natural invisibility. Letting him have the bottle, you watch as the jar lifts up into the air as if under its own power. Seal cracked, the jar quickly finds its contents flowing down a hazy man's gullet.
Wiping his mouth clean, the drunk seems unsteady as he returns the jar to you. Your brew is strong indeed, so strong that you can actually make out bits of detail here and there from how much it effects the vittra.
If you so desired, you could absolutely pump this vittra for information. You could also call it a night—er, day—here and go home with success in hand and your heads still attached to your necks.
What do you do?
[ ] Pump him for information
-[ ] Write in
[ ] Call it a win and go home
0~0~0
AN: Good rolls, Shard, good rolls indeed.
No moratorium, but this'll be the last update for today. New record, though! 4 Updates in 1 day—ignoring how short they are, at least.
[X] Pump him for information
-[X] We're primarily trying to get info on who he paid to get left alone, that part seems relevant and like whoever he paid might've set this up. However, he's drunk, and there's no need to be rude, we'll use Light Touch if needed and gently guide the conversation in that direction rather than be impolite about it. We will also happily allow him to tell us things like where he's from and why his family moved here, whether they'd be open to trade in the future, things like that. That's all secondary to who they paid to be left alone, though.
-[X] Keep a careful eye out for when he tires of our company, make our goodbyes and get out of there before his mood shifts towards the truly unpleasant. Using Goal Tell and Lowest Limit to help with this inasmuch as they can.
0~0~0 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. Turning to where his son presumably stands, the vittra waves a vague limb in your general direction, "Listen well, bothersome boy, for humans are always asking after those they can't see. From gods to grubs, they beckon for their presence alike—all the more foolish they are for it!"
Alcohol has loosened the vittra's tongue in more ways than one, it seems. Reading the situation for what it is, you deem it wise to bid farewell before iron must greet the sun.
Still, as you and your men turn back the way you came, you can't help but feel like you've learned more from this than what you know. Every time you speak with those beyond the law, you get more of a grasp on how to speak and conduct yourself.
Why, at this point, you're certain to have an easier time dealing with outsiders to the law!
(Boon: Speaking Out of Law is now unlocked)
0~0~0 Personal Time
With a light bit of feasting well underway and a frothing horn of beer in hand, you reckon that now is as good a time as any to check in with those under your care. Foam clings to your upper lip as you wander on over to where Kurt Frogtongue shows off his kenning-sake for the children—who watch with mixed faces of disgust and curiosity alike.
Sitting on a round stool not too far away from the door, Kurt keeps an eye on the hearth-flame as he lets his tongue hang down to his navel—only about two-thirds of its maximum reach. How he manages to keep such a behemoth in his mouth is a mystery known only to him, but you've certainly never seen Haydis angry with him so it's clearly working out in his favor.
Spotting your approach with a keen blue eye, Kurt retracts his tongue into a tight coil before tucking it into the inside of his jaw. Ignoring the protests of the children—who wander off in a huff, likely to get into some manner of trouble—Kurt shuffles around until he's facing you dead-on. Speaking around the wad of pick flesh filling his mouth, he nods well-wished greetings your way, "Hail, feasting-mistress of a warm hearth."
"A fine feast to you too, Kurt," you return the greeting with a broad, meat-speckled smile while handing him a spare beer mug. Hooking a foot around a nearby unoccupied stool, you beckon it your way in a deft show of skill. It comes to a teetering stop on unsteady legs, which you put an end to through making it your seat. Resting an ankle on a knee, you send a pointing finger his way while eyeing the dispersing children, "Say, I haven't seen a child on Haydis' hip in some time. Are you planning on having any more than Hallotta?"
Kurt makes a noise while scratching at his neck, "Well..." He breathes a heavy sigh as he gets on with it, "I was actually meaning to talk to you about that, as I fear that Haydis' wedding-dream may have been wrong on how many children we'd have."
"How many did she see?" You ask over the horn's rim, the trickle of beer a welcome-if-fleeting guest in your head's hearth.
"Three," Kurt answers as he visibly tries not to be jealous of your own household. "Haydis and I've been trying for the second for some time now, but haven't had much luck. Is there anything you can do for us? I know you're learning from the Seeress, after all."
Lifting brows to the hearth-smoke-choked ceiling, you hum to yourself while tapping the horn against your chin. After a moment's thought, you come to a conclusion, "I'll need time to set everything up, but I've got a few ideas that could help your predicament."
Sunshine would feel inadequate next to Kurt's beaming, face-splitting smile. "If you help us in this, I swear you'll have my service for the rest of our lives."
"In that case, my aid you shall have!" Matching his smile with one of your own, the deal is sealed with a locking of wrists. After sharing a drink with your farmhand, you bid him farewell as you turn your attention to all others in attendance.
The twins' towering presence immediately catches the eye as Asgeirr tries once more to convince Tryggr of how he should be given a chance at the drink in Tryggr's hand. Fortunately for both your sanity and Tryggr's hope of living a long life, Trausti is there to keep things civil. Oddly close to his side sits Vagn, who watches the goings-ons with humor in his gaze as his weapon-wheel hangs up on the wall behind him—alongside all the other weapons, as is the custom.
"Trust me, kid," Tryggr chuckles as he eyes your silent approach, a sneaky wink shot your way, "you won't like the taste of this. Your mother likes her beers bitter."
"But it smells so nice!" Asgeirr's petulant stomp fills your ears as you come to a stop behind him. "Just one sip, I promise I'll be good!"
Sensing an opportunity to both curb Asgeirr's alcoholic aspirations, teach a valuable lesson on meaning what you say, and extract good behavior for the coming playdate, you allow a grin to spread across your face as you make your presence known. "As my father once said to me, I now say to you, o' eldest child of mine: to be a man is to hold yourself accountable for everything you say and do." Asgeirr freezes at the sound of your voice, looking to all the world like a dog caught with something it shouldn't have in its mouth. "If I allow you a sip, can I trust you to act like a man?"
Clenching fists find iron in his spine as Asgeirr meets your steel gaze with one of his own. Red hair bobs as he nods, a fierce look in his polished eyes, "A man is only as good as his word."
Tryggr conceals a snort in his flagon's lip as Trausti sighs—the oft-repeated saying one of his favorites. "Seems he has a favorite uncle," Tryggr nudges his brother with a sharp elbow and pointed grin.
Ignoring the brotherly byplay, you answer Asgeirr's words with a solemn nod. Rising a palm before your eldest, you work your orthstirr to your will as you ready the horn. Crimson strength forms a fingernail-deep and knuckle-wide bowl in your palm's basin as a dark, frothy liquid fills it to the brim.
Asgeirr's eyes glow with eager delight as he carefully takes the thimble-sized cup in hand. Lifting it to his lips, the bitter drink soon finds a rest-stop on his tongue.
"That's good!" His eyes light up as his lips curl up into a broad smile, grubby fingers forming grabby-hands towards the horn in your hand, "More!"
As the twins and Vagn break out into a laughing fit, you can't help but feel you may have made a mistake here.
Regardless, as the feast progresses and you make your rounds, you keep a mental note of who would like their fylgjur unveiled as well as those who would be willing to participate in a certain experiment you have in mind.
Of your household, most everyone seems willing to have their fylgjur unveiled. The only one who seems at all apprehensive is Vagn, but that appears to be more from not being sure what to expect than any outright negative feelings towards the idea.
However, just as you started to ask about that certain experiment of yours, a frowning Abjorn grabs you by the arm and asks you to follow him outside.
Following him out into the cold, the door shuts in your wake as Abjorn wrings his fingers. Snow swirls around you in a thick flurry as the sun slips under the horizon like a hard-working farmer finds his blanket.
Taking a deep breath, Abjorn turns to you with a slightly distressed look in his eye, "Halla, I..." Taking another lungful of cold valley air, he swiftly finds his footing and barrels on like his namesake, "I'm not sure I'm comfortable with the things you're doing, with what it does to you." Composure: 6 Successes. Calm Charge Used!
Your first instinct is to get mad at him, but a surge of coolness washes that feeling away as you stay in complete control of your emotions.
At your silence, he wrings his fingers harder as he starts to hunch in on himself. His breathing quickens as he stutters through his reasonings, "I-I just can't get the image of you w-writhing on the floor out of my head, o-or," he shudders, swaying slightly on the spot as sweat pours off his brow like a waterfall off a cliffside—your cold, unfeeling stare doing little good for his nerves. Gulping, he continues on with a whisper as his eyes find the ground, "o-or when you were trying to... t-to k-kill me."
...Shit, he has a point.
What do you do?
[ ] Write in
0~0~0
AN: I was meaning to finish off this turn today, but Abjorn said 'no' to that, lmao.
No moratorium, we'll see if we can't get another update out today, eh?
edit: I've been reading some of the sagas and I can feel them infecting my writing, lmao. If anything is weird, that's why.
