NorseQuest (A Norse Xianxia)

[I.F. Ister]

Spoiler: Rest of Turn

[X] Change some things
-[X] Make sure Solrun is there for the family meeting regarding Dorri (and helps with privacy stuff). Replace asking her about the mountain of metal with asking her to help set up surveillance on Dorri.

-[X] (Seeress) Learn seidr with the Seeress (Only available during Summer)
--[X] Ask Solrun to explain the various uses a seeress has for a Fylgja. We feel like we're missing something fundamental here having had most of our Fylgja education from warriors.
--[X] Ask Solrun about the Fylgja of other people in the valley with revealed ones, our main interest iis in Dorri's family and Framarr's ant thing in particular, but we'd ask abbout it as part of other stuff just in case
--[X] Check with Solrun if our idea for the bridge and burl is on the right track. Basic idea can be found [here](https://forums.sufficientvelocity.com/threads/norsequest-a-norse-xianxia.113540/post-29875202), for referenc. To be clear, we're mostly making sure this isn't completely wrong-headed and dangerous, not asking for the definitive answer.
--[X] Learn more about privacy warding...we want the best and most comprehensive privy wards possible and her help in making those
--[X] Ask Solrun about the mountain of metal and that whole thing, noting we've had feelings that it's something in our family lineage. She's not likely to know the martial style itself, but she might know who or what it's based on, especially given her and its respective connections to Ironjaw.
--[X] How can I help someone through a nidheart, especially a more mundane one without a spirit involved...is there some spell for that, and if not do you have any advice?

-[X] [Social] (Personal) Spend time with...
--[X] Tell Asva and anyone else in our family who doesn't know about Dorri's treachery the truth via Eyespeech while taking serious precautions.
--[X] We will coordinate with Sten and Solrun to make our family conference on this subject as private as physically and magically possible (including using runes found [here](https://forums.sufficientvelocity.com/threads/norsequest-a-norse-xianxia.113540/post-29872103) if viable).

0~0~0
Talking with Solrun
Under the watch of skyborne, screaming seagulls circling overhead, you step once more ashore in Asvir. The pebbles of Hading-beaches greet the return of its most proud daughter as you, in turn, greet the crowd that's gathered for your return. Cheers rise from a hundred throats as the whaleflesh is carried out and laid on display. With winter foodstocks secured by a voyage most successful, you'll be in the praise-songs of the Valley for years to come.

Regardless of the praise laid upon your shoulders and the prestige already joining hands with your orthstirr, there's a certain someone you wish to visit with before you return to your home in the Valley. It has been some time since last you saw Solrun Far-Eyes, as some in the Hading call her by, and an eagerness rises in your heart as your thoughts turn to rectifying that error.

You may also have a few questions to ask her, but that's certainly nothing new with regards to yourself. Besides, Solrun is a genuine font of knowledge! Who wouldn't ask her questions when given the chance? Not you, that's for sure!

As you know the way to Solrun's tent by heart, it takes you no time at all to trace the path trodden many hundreds of times over the many years. Solrun's tent sits where it always does this time of year, in the outskirts of where Asvir meets the Hading trees proper. Not too far from Asvir, but not too close at the same time.

The sound of voices from within gives you pause as you stop at the tentflap entrance. One of the voices clearly belongs to your mentor while the other—though vaguely familiar—is unfortunately a mystery. It sounds like Solrun is in the middle of a meeting with someone, should you just come back later? You wouldn't want to interrupt a potentially delicate ritual, after all!

"Do come in, Halla, there's no use in being hesitant when I already know you're there!" The choice of whether to leave or not is snatched from you by the weather fingers of your mentor. Offering a silent shrug to nobody in particular, you do as she asks and enter with a sweep of your arm casting the cloth flap aside.

The inside of Solrun's tent is, more or less, the same as last you saw. Jars, jugs, and all kind of myriad pots hold thousands of different ingredients, materials, and all manner of sundry. Two woman—one old, the other young—sit around a cauldron suspended over a small firepit dug into the ground. Solrun stirs the pot as she gestures you inside with a welcoming wave. "I was just helping Lydia here," she nods to the young woman, who offers a nervous wave, "with a certain problem she's having." The sparkle of an idea shines in Solrun's eye as she smiles and turns back to Lydia, "Lydia, dear, would you mind telling my apprentice what your problem is while I prepare?"

Lydia frowns, clearly not especially enthused by the idea, but sighs and nods. "I..." her voice is harder than her otherwise soft appearance lead you to believe, "I've just got the worst luck with men!" She throws her hands into the air as she groans and slumps in her chair, "Every single time I try and find a husband, they either die or fall in love with some other woman! Every. Damn. Time!"

"She came here to find a cure," Solrun adds from where she rummages through the stock scattered across the tent, "which I've got..." Solrun's eyes narrow as the tip of her tongue emerges from behind her lips, "Here!" She grins triumphant as she pops the seal on a jar and makes her way back to the cauldron. Upending the jar, she dumps the contents into the boiling water while adding three sprigs of Baldur's chin—a pure-white herb commonly used as an activator for helpful potions and the like—after it. After a few moments of stirring, a frown passes over her lips as she looks from side to side. Failing to find whatever she's looking for, she sighs and waves you over, "Halla, how's your heat resistance?"

Your eyes narrow with your answer, "Good, why do you ask?"

"Well," Solrun grimaces as an embarrassed flush rises on her cheeks, "I seem to have misplaced my tongs—I suspect I left them at your house—and need to fish the necklace out."

Eyeing Solrun for a long while, you eventually shake your head and sigh, "Yeah, sure, I'll get it out for you." Rolling back your sleeve as Solrun smiles her appreciation, you dunk your hand into the boiling water. Fortunately, thanks to your fiery lineage, the popping bubbles of steam and water do naught but slightly redden your skin as you grope around for the 'necklace'.

Eventually, your fingers brush up against a length of beaded string and you swiftly pluck it from the cauldron. Water drips from beads as you hold it up to the light, your curiosity getting the best of you. From an initial, cursory glance, it seems that the beads are made of whalebone while the string is little more than yarn. Nodding to yourself, you offer it to Solrun who takes it with a smile on her face.

"This necklace," Solrun says as she gently cradles the beaded string, "will return your luck back to neutral. In order to achieve this, though, you must wear the necklace at all hours of day and night for the next three months. You'll know the magic worked when the bones turn to dust."

Lydia almost leaps for joy at the good news. The only reason she doesn't is that she still needs Solrun to put the necklace on her, though it's a close thing with how hard she's vibrating in her seat. The moment Solrun's fingers finish clasping the string, Lydia springs to her feet with her hands in the air and a great big smile on her face.

"Oh thank you, thank you, thank you!" She cries, grabbing ahold of Solrun as she draws the older woman into a tight hug. Solrun sighs and rolls her eyes, but still returns the warm embrace with a pat on the back and a slight smile.

"You're very much welcome, child," Solrun says as she extricates herself from the younger woman's grasp. "Now, go find a boy to make yours."

Lydia smiles as she nods, promising to do just that, and almost skips out the tentflap swaying in the breeze. As she departs, a certain someone makes his presence known.

'She'd make a good wife for one of your men,' Blackhand notes as Solrun chuckles, watching Lydia leave with a fond smile on her face. After a moment's thought on the matter, as Solrun returns the cauldron and other ingredients back to their proper places, you find yourself agreeing with his sentiment.

"So, Halla," Solrun says as she waves for you to take Lydia's now-deserted seat, which you, of course, do, "what questions have you for me today?"

You chuckle and scratch at your cheek as Solrun merely sips from a fresh cup of tea, "Aw, well..." Something about this whole situation strikes you as, well, odd, and gives you pause. "Hey, Solrun, you're acting a bit odd, is something wrong?"

Solrun's smile fades with a sigh, "It's nothing to concern yourself with, really. It's just that," she frowns as she runs her finger across the rim of her cup, "well, the closer I near to my end of days, the more I find myself missing Kolla. While I can see her whenever I so desire," she gestures to her eyes with a lazy hand, "that isn't any replacement for her actually being here."

Well, that just won't do! Leaning forward, you meet her eyes as you lay a hand on her knee, "Solrun, you're already staying with me in the winter. You can come by and say 'hi' for as long as you like, whenever you want."

Solrun swallows the lump in her throat and smiles, "Thank you, Halla, really. That's very generous of you." You shrug and wave it off as she laughs, "Now, then, what questions have you for me today?"

Grinning, you launch right into the first question loitering in your mind. "Are there any uses for fylgjur besides fighting? Specifically, the uses a Seer might have for them? Most of what I know I learned from warriors like Steinarr, so I fear I may be missing something fundamental."

Solrun nods as she taps her cup against her knee, "Ah, the fylgja, an ever-useful tool." Nodding to herself once more, she smiles and continues, "The fylgja is a method by which you can carry something without having to carry it yourself. An example of this is if there's some dangerous substance, such as odr, that could reap havoc if it were to come into contact with one such as us. Fortunately, as fylgjur are creatures of inherent chaos, they are capable of riding the waves of odr with little difficulty."

Brows rising at that little tidbit, you quickly file it away for later consideration as you move on to your next question, "What are the fylgjur of the other people in the Valley that have them?"

Solrun frowns ever-so-slightly, "In recent years, I've seen a slight uptick in people coming to have their fylgjur revealed." There's a flicker of humor in her eye as she chuckles, "I suspect that a certain someone had something to do with that." You offer a grin and a shrug as her chuckles settle down with a sigh, "As a result, however, I've seen a lot of fylgjur go by and no longer can recall all the fylgjur of the valley. Regardless," she nods to herself as she finds her footing, "Dorri Rattlespear has an otter, Logi Firehair bears a salamander, Framarr Heavyhand's is an ant, Audrikr Fishfighter's fylgja is a fox, your brother Eric has a beaver, Nainn Rotting has a wolf as does Heima Smiles, while Hymir Evershade has a lynx. Those are all fylgjur that I revealed myself," she clarifies as you note names and details down, "so it is near-certain that there are others in the Valley that I didn't reveal."

"Alright," you mutter absentmindedly as you note down all that information, "next question!"

Solrun chuckles and sips her tea, a fond light in her eyes, "Next question indeed."

"I..." The smile falls from your face as you realize what the next question on your mental list is, "A friend of mine is struggling with nidheart, the kind that can't be solved by banishing a spirit. I know that seidr can't solve non-spirit-based nidheart, but is there anything at all I can do to help?"

Solrun sighs as she stares into the hearthfire, "Halla, if I knew how to solve nidheart, I would tell you the secrets in an instant. Alas," she slumps into her chair as she sighs yet harder, "there is no spell or potion or poultice I know that can soothe the terrors of the soul. I would bow down before the Seeress who could cure that, for they would be my better in every way possible."

"There's really nothing I can do?" Your brows furrow a deep trench on your head as you grasp for any way you can help.

Solrun tries a soft smile, "The most you or I can do is be there for them when they need it, even if they themselves don't know they do."

"I'lll," you take a deep breath as you nod, "I'll keep that in mind, thanks." You're eager to swap to a different topic, but, unfortunately... "I'm, uh, I'm having a meeting with my family that I desperately need to be as private as possible—which I'd very much like you to be at, by the way—and I need some lessons on privacy wards if at all possible."

Solrun nods as she sets her tea cup to the side. Leaning in, she takes your hands in hers as her eyes lock your gaze, "Halla, child, I will certainly be there, just as I'll always be here for you to rely upon. I'll need some time to prepare what I know on privacy wards, but I'll teach you all I know as we make secret this meeting of yours."

"Thank you, Solrun," a wave of relief washes across your soul as you breathe with shocking ease. The weight of forgotten tension falls away as Solrun mirrors your smile with her own.

"Of course, dear child," she releases your hands as she leans back and retakes her tea. "Now then, shall we move on to other matters," humor sparks in her gaze as she warms the drink with a snap of the fingers, "such as how you're doing in the challenge I've laid before you?"

"The bridge and burls?" A smile splits your face in two as you leap upon a happier topic, "I'm pretty sure I've figured it out!"

A brow arches as Solrun sips her tea, "Oh? Do tell, dear child." As you oblige your teacher, her other brow rises to greet the other high on her head. "That..." She laughs as her tea cup clinks against the table at her side, "I'm not sure why I'm surprised! You've always been a bright child," wiping a fond tear from her eye, she shakes her head and collects herself. "That is near exactly correct, child. Or, should I say," her mouth quirks up at the corners, "Seeress."

Your mouth hangs open as realization washes over you like a tidal wave does the land. You... You did it!

You, Halla Sunshine, are now a full-fledged Seeress!

(Your training has finished and you are now a Seeress in truth.)
(+80 Orthstirr)
(+1 Drengskapr)
(Feat: Whalefall Feasting - +2 Orthstirr a year)
0~0~0
The Dorri Situation
Torches flicker as they coat the ceilings in their ashen hue, the profit of the whale carcess having not yet made its way down to the Underhouse. Bereft of the fortunes of the dwarves, you're forced to dirty all surfaces of the Underhouse with cinder and soot alike. Once pure now soiled, it will take a long time to clean it all. However dirty the Underhouse is, though, it will still serve well for the purpose you have in mind. After all, you don't need a clean room to hold a meeting such as this.

Seven souls gather in the torchlit underhall as half set to making it private and secure. While Abjorn, Eric, Asva, and Stigmar wait in silence—the only break in the quietude the light conversations that spring up whenever siblings meet—you, Sten, and Solrun work to make it as unknowable as possible.

In lockstep with Solrun, you follow the sweeping, circular motions of her arms as she molds magic to her will. "Privacy wards can be quite difficult to construct," Solrun begins her lesson with Sten providing a background spellsong, "as, in order to make the strongest spells, one needs to have experienced privacy from both in and out."

"It's the out part of that that's the tricky part, isn't it?" It doesn't take a genius of your caliber to put that together.

"Indeed it is, my fellow Seeress," no matter how many times she calls you that, the surge of pride it draws from your soul never seems to diminish. You'll be riding that high for a long time, you reckon. "Fortunately, I was able to purchase one off of a passing skald while you were having your latest adventure, so I have that aspect covered."

Reaching into one of her many belt pouches, she plucks free a small, thumb-thick and corked ceramic vial. Popping the cork with her teeth, she lets the sparkle-filled substance slop out into the woven work of secret magic riding upon the stale air.

The moment the Experience greets the air, the scent of fresh rain fills your nose as a sense of forlorn loneliness washes over you. The knowledge that your friends and family don't need you to have fun weighs heavily upon your shoulders as you grit your teeth to stop the tears. But just as quickly as it came, it vanishes into the layers of spell string binding across the air.

"To make matters worse," Solrun continues as she lays a silent hand on your shivering shoulder, not saying anything but simply providing a comforting presence, "privacy wards vary greatly in the way you make privacy. Is it by deafening ears? Blinding eyes? Covering skin? Or is it some other way, such as by telling all would-be-watchers to 'look away'?" Solrun shrugs as you master your emotions and school your face, "If one knows the soul they wish to keep unawares, they can even key the wards to them in particular. Of course," she continues with pursed lips, "all things can be countered and undone with time and effort. There is no 'silver arrow'. But, just as there is no perfect defense, there is no perfect attack, and by layering wards one can befuddle attacks for a very long time indeed."

After a few long minutes of magical work, you, Solrun, and Sten finish layering as many wards as you can think up over the thresholds of the Underhouse. Once Sten wraps up his song and joins the rest of the group, you can finally commence this familial conference. Mouth dry and heart pounding, you try your damndest to keep yourself calm. A misspoken word here could mean hours of confusion and a stutter might doom you all to death.

As Sten's song quiets and he pulls out a chair, Blackhand chuckles in the back of your mind. 'He was threatening the wind with all manner of horrible things if they should be so mischievous as to bring his words to his enemies, but the thing that truly struck fear into the heart of the wind was when he threatened to tell their parents of their misdeeds.'

Stifling a snort, you silently thank Blackhand for the humor in this most dire of moments. Taking a deep breath, you clear your throat and fix all those present with a fierce look, "Before I can tell you why I've gathered you here, I need you all to promise me that you'll listen before running off half-cocked."

Eyes narrow and arms cross from your eldest brothers, but they too add their voices to the chorus of confirmations that rise from your gathered family. After all, it's not like whatever you have to say is going to be that devastating, right?

Oh how wrong they are.

Swallowing the fear in your throat, you nod to yourself and continue following the speech plotted out in your mind, "There's no good way to put this, but I have fair reason to think that Dorri Rattlespear," you take a deep breath to calm your nerves, not trusting yourself to keep it straight, "that Dorri Rattlespear is behind the death of Steinarr."

In the dead silence that descends upon the gathered kin of Steinarr Hallsson, the only sound that can be heard is the pounding of a half-dozen hearts in six pairs of ears. Taking the opportunity for what it is—and thanking the Gods for small mercies—you fall upon the list of evidence that you've collected, "To find who was responsible for the raid, I sought the spirits for answers. They named Dorri Rattlespear as culprit. To make matters worse," you scowl as you fight the hate threatening to spill free of your heart, "it seems that Dorri and Drysalt are, if not allies, working together."

Solrun winces as she hears that name, but keeps to herself as Eric swallows the horror in his throat, "Is," he grits his teeth as the stone table shudders from his grip, "is Jarl Corpsemaker in on it?"

"He's not, as far as I'm aware," you shake your head as Eric breathes a heavy sigh of relief. "In fact, he came to the same conclusion as me."

"Well, I guess I know which side I'll be fighting for in the future," Eric chuckles, trying to find some levity in the situation as Sten leans in next, dawning realization in his face.

"Dorri's planning on fighting Corpsemaker?" Sten frowns as he learns that, the nods of those in the know confirming it, "When word got out that I could make Steel, Dorri approached me to see if I knew how to break it. I couldn't help him, but I always did wonder what prompted that question." Sten bites at his lower lip. Dead, dry skin peels away as he shrugs, "Now I know, I suppose."

That's when Solrun speaks up with a heavy sigh, "I... Have something to admit. My father..." She swallows, looking rather small and vulnerable in her old age as her fingers drum a steady beat against the table, "My father was the man responsible for Drysalt's first rampage."

You're not sure what emotions that draws up from the well of your heart, but a usage of a calming charge ensures you'll never know. "And Hasvir Hadingshero killed him, and you hired Blackhand to kill him." Which, as goes unsaid, resulted in the death of your uncles and a lifelong enemy for you, your siblings, and your father.

Solrun swallows and ducks her head, a half-dozen pairs of eyes fixed on her, "I... I was young and angry and stupid. I-I wanted revenge for Runor's death a-and Framarr Crownsword, Dorri's father, offered to help me find the man who'd do it, i-in exchange for something I can't tell you."

"Can't," Sten's eyes burn with barely-subdued crimson fury as he turns his gaze on your once-teacher, his hand falling to the sword on his waist, "or won't?"

"I swore an oath to keep it secret," Solrun continues, shrinking under the burning gaze of once-friends. "However," this time, her eyes burn as she finds her footing and draws herself up to her full sitting height, "this is information that you will need."

"You don't have much life left in you, do you?" Asva speaks up for the first time, having kept quiet and merely listened up until now. "Breaking an oath now would probably kill you." That doesn't seem to be much of an issue to Asva, not with the revelations that had just been made.

"It would, you are right." Solrun nods as she stands up. Turning her gaze on you, the torches granting light to the Underhouse snuff out one by one as shadows choke the room and darkness drapes across her face, "Halla Sunshine, in exchange for the information I hold secret, I ask that you fulfill my last wish. Seek out Kolla and give her my blessing. Watch over her when I cannot and make certain her safety." She swallows, eyes gleaming with unspoken power as thunder crackles in the distance, "Will you do this, in exchange for that which I keep hidden?"

[ ] Accept her charge and doom Solrun to death
[ ] Refuse her charge and let her live

0~0~0

AN: This was a very interesting update to write. I hope you enjoyed it!

No moratorium, but this will be the only update for today and, potentially, for tomorrow as well. This vote is impactful enough that I want everyone to be able to participate.

 

[I.F. Ister]

Spoiler: Path Decided

[x] Accept her charge and doom Solrun to death


Rest of Turn
--[X] Abjorn
--[X] Odr Initiation, very gradually, using our new spell
-[X] (Exploration) Go on a walk through...
--[X] The Hading!
---[X] (Optional) Try to find the Heart of the Hading

0~0~0

"Solrun," your words carry solemn weight as you take her hands in your own, "I will do as you ask."

"Thank you, Halla," Solrun closes her eyes as tears threaten to pour down her cheeks, "Give her my love, would you?"

"I will."

The pitter-patter of rain taps a gentle staccato against the Underhouse's soil-forged roof as Solrun nods her thanks. Even with all your efforts in making the Underhouse livable, its roof still can't stop Weight from pulling water droplets through the ceiling as Solrun draws down a deep breath and begins.

"Drysalt..." Solrun sighs as she struggles to find the right words, the cracks in the oath splintering further with every half-breathed syllable, "Drysalt is a troll of another era. A being from a time before time, from before there was the idea of such a thing as Midgard. I think, anyways, my father had precious little time to teach me of this." She swallows as dirt shakes from the ceiling, the Norns deeply unhappy with Solrun's oath-breaking. The stench of nid is thick and cloying as it descends upon Solrun like a starving dog to a fat-heavy carcass. Orthstirr vanishes as Solrun musters her strength and carries on unflinching, "Drysalt has no physical weaknesses. His skin is impervious to weapons and tricks of all kinds, no manner of esoteric trick or twist or spell may lay him low."

"How do we beat him, then?" You simply can't accept that such a thing is impossible. It just isn't in your nature to lay down and die.

Gritting her teeth, Solrun's eyes blaze with a defiant fire as she grips the edges of the table for support. Limbs shaking and quivering with every laborious breath, she forces herself onwards by sheer strength of will. "Drysalt is arrogant and has an ego larger than the whole of Midgard combined. He thinks little of humans and can be tricked. Lure him into a trap and seal him away, it's the only way he can be beaten."

"How do we seal him away?" At your question, Solrun's eyes turn red with sorrow as her head hangs low.

"I..." She whispers with the last vestiges of her strength. Thinking quickly, she picks her words wisely as life quickly leaves her limbs—the nid burning through her orthstirr and moving onto her very soul. "Hadingshero... he knew..."

Life leaves Solrun's limbs as she collapses against the stone table, her last breath rasping free of her lungs in one long, drawn out wheeze. The glint of warmth fades from her eyes as they turn dull and gray in the flickering torchlight of the Underhold.

Solrun...

Solrun is dead.

Gods have mercy on your soul.

The cooling sensation of a calming charge floods your body as you struggle not to cry. It's instinctual, not something you consciously triggered, but effective regardless.

0~0~0
Trying to Initiate Abjorn
The last remnants of the latest calming charge linger in your system as you step through the Hading forest's outskirts on numb feet. Trees blur into one continuous streak of brownish bark and leafy green as you bite back the latest wave of tears.

Abjorn, a silent pillar of support in these trying times, stays close behind as you lead him through the forest in search of some good spot to bless him with renewed strength. It'll be useful if he's stronger when you and Corpsemaker take the fight to Dorri's door, let alone if Drysalt himself deigns to make an appearance.

The nature of his and Dorri's relationship is still, unfortunately, an unknown, but you don't need to know that to stop Dorri and Drysalt. All you need to do is find the spell used to seal Drysalt away. Once that happens, the day can be won.

...Easier said than done, yeah.

It's as you contemplate using another calming charge to staunch the wave of sorrow rising from deep within that Abjorn chooses to speak. "Halla," a handful of dry twigs snap under his weight as he steps forward bold and unflinching, "you're not doing well, are you?"

It was only a day or two ago that Solrun died, maybe more, maybe less. The passage of time is little more than a blur of motion and memory when your mind casts itself back back.

"I..." You cut yourself off with a choked sob as your second-to-last calming charge washes over you. Soul filled to the brim with cold rationality, you offer a short nod, "It's hard."

"Yeah, yeah it is," Abjorn's voice is soft and meek though his jaw tightens firm. His hand snakes out and slips fingers into your own, gripping your palm tight against his as he takes a deep breath, "I understand how you feel. You don't have to do this right now. We can do it in the winter, next year even, just as long as you feel ready."

You shake your head, almost pulling your hand away save for a last-minute second-thought, "No, no, I can do this. I'm a Seeress now," you swallow a gulp as your eyes stay fixed straight ahead, "this, this is what we do."

Abjorn frowns, a raw showing of any emotion other than stoic joy and appreciation. He squeezes your hand just as you go to take a step, knocking you off balance for a fraction of a heartbeat, but it's enough for him to get a word in edgewise, "What does Blackhand have to say about it?"

You go to answer him as the calming charge starts to fade from your soul, the intensity of the emotions it's suppressing doing a number on its lasting strength. As your mouth opens and words begin to form, a voice long silenced slips through the wall of oppressive serenity.

'I think,' Blackhand scowls as he shoves back the fragmentary waves of calming might, his strength returning alongside your emotions. 'No, I know that you're rushing into this, girl. Delicate shit like this requires calm, real calm, not this false fucking bullshit that you've been huffing. You're not stupid, stop acting like it.'
How do you handle his words? (Composure: 7) 7 Successes
Blackhand's words are harsh, cruel, and brutal. For the first time in your life, you can't help but hate the bastard. White hot rage smolders in your heart as you lash out, wrenching your hand free of Abjorn's grasp and swinging a blind fist at the air.

'Yes! Get angry. Feel something for the sakes of all those that came before!'

How dare he call you stupid when Solrun just died?! It was your damned fault! You were the one who doomed her! You were the one who accepted the charge! You have to make it right. You have to prove that you can do it, that you can take her place, that she was right about you!

...

...Gods dammit.

Gods fucking dammit.

"Gods, fucking," your fist snaps out, knuckles striking against a tree and felling it in a single blow. The trunk collapses against the ground in a heavy crash as Abjorn deftly steps aside, "dammit."

Swallowing, the last calm charge washes Blackhand back into the depths of your mind. His cursing growing ever more distant, you bite back the sobs and fix your eyes forward once more as, in a display of stubbornness that would be admirable in any other circumstance, you refuse the truth that you know deep within, "No, no, I have to be able to do this."

"Why?" That single question draws you up short as cracks grow and your eyes flick to the side, where Abjorn sits gently against the fallen trunk of the tree you struck down. "Solrun said you were a Seeress, so you are. What does this," he waves a hand at himself and his surroundings, ignoring the flinch he draws from you as he lands right on the adamantly-denied money, "have to do with anything?"

"But I," you swallow as the cracks widen into fissures and fissures split down the seams in an onslaught of rushing emotion, "I-I'm not ready! First Dad, now Solrun..." Tears start trickling down your cheeks as you collapse to your knees on the leaf-strewn path. The last vestiges of your final calming charge keep you going—they're the only thing doing that, in fact. "For all my life, I've head somebody there to help, guide, and to answer what questions I had."

"And now you don't," Abjorn's hands hover at your sides, waiting for a signal to help you up. When he climbed to his feet you don't know, your situational awareness isn't exactly the best right now.

"And now I don't," you whisper, shrinking in on yourself like a wilting spring flower as Abjorn sets his jaw and decides to try a different approach.

"I never knew my mother," Abjorn remarks in a sudden twist of the topic, "one son of Giant's blood was already too much for her and the second pushed her over the edge. Vidar," Abjorn swallows as he speaks words he's heard all his life, "well, he never forgave me."

"Why are you telling me this?" Before the words even pass your lips, you're already regretting them deeply. Lost in the wave on all-consuming emotion, you only register how rude your words are after it's too late.

Abjorn continues like he didn't hear you, just one of the many blessings making up the man. "Beyond the bare minimum of food and shelter, I was left to fend for myself. The only person who I could go to for help was my brother, but Vidar always punished him for it and, eventually, he couldn't take it anymore and so he left." Abjorn sighs and shakes his head, blonde locks falling around his ears. "I guess what I'm trying to do here is say that I've got a lot of experience with figuring things out on my own and that I'll help you do that too?" His face twists in confusion as he stumbles and struggles over his words, tripping right at the finish line.

Well...

Shit.

He scowls and goes to apologize, only stiffening as you take hold of his still-hovering hands, "Abjorn," you meet his wet eyes with your own as you rise to shaky feet, still holding his hands all the while, "thank you, really."

"I will always be here to help you up again, no matter how many times you stumble," he bends down and plants a gentle kiss upon your lips. The moment lasts for an eternity as your knees buckle and you sink into his embrace. His warmth is like the blanket left next to a hearth, warm, inviting, and full of love. "You said you were looking for a place to do the magic ritual thing, right? If you're still sure you want to do it," He eventually asks after pulling away.

It takes you a moment to get your head back in the game, the constant back-and-forth of emotions leaving you rattled, but you eventually nod, "I... I think I am, yes. You have an idea?"

He smiles, sheepish at the corners, "Well, you were talking about wanting to go see the Heart of the Hading, so why don't we do it there?" He bites at his lip as he shrugs, wilting like a fire-bitten leaf as you stare at him, "Uh, sorry if you already thought about it."

"No, no, that's..." You snort and bump your head against his chest, feeling a bit silly that you didn't think of that, "actually really clever."

Abjorn's mouth quirks up at the corners as he lifts your chin by a crooked finger, "I have my moments."

You meet his smile with one of your own, your fingers snaking up to his hair as you draw him back down to your level, "I'd sure say so!"

0~0~0
Exploring deeper into the Hading, in search of the Heart (Hamingja: 7) 7 Successes
Ever-deeper you trek into the Hading, the sound of your and Abjorn's footsteps the only noise for miles. Even the wind seems to keep quiet as you trudge across fallen leaves and discarded twigs. Here, in the deepest depths of the Hading, there is little in the way of light.

A dense tree canopy so thick that it devours all but the lightest slivers of light hangs overhead as you step from grass to empty dirt in your journey ever-deeper in. Moss, mushrooms, and a variety of vines are the only non-tree plants this deep into the Hading. They cling to life thanks only to what they can splice from the trees upon which they depend.

The only noise to break up the monotony is that of your and Abjorn's talk as you make your way through the ever-denser, ever-taller and more ancient trees. The ground turns uneven as Abjorn shrugs, the next topic of conversation already on his lips.

"I recently spoke with Dorri," Abjorn frowns as he says that name, but carries on regardless "about my inheritance from Vidar."

"How's that going for you? I've not heard, well, much of anything at all about that," you mention as you step over a thick root snaking along a long-dry streambed.

"Not great," Abjorn sighs as he shakes his head, lips tugging down into a frown. "Apparently, Vidar married a woman in Miklagard but divorced her to follow Steinarr here, as she wouldn't accompany him to the Hading. As it turns out," he adds as he ducks under a leafless, low-hanging branch, "that marriage resulted in a son. Given that it was a legal marriage, that son actually has a real claim to some of the inheritance unlike Vidar's bastards."

"Vidar had bastards?" You quirk your heard as a playful light gleams in your eyes, "Somehow, that doesn't surprise me."

"Me neither," Abjorn huffs as he kicks at a rock, a fresh trail of sunlight trickling through the hole it leaves in its wake as it soars up and through the canopy. "According to Dorri, the bastards don't have any legal claim to the property of Vidar, but they'll probably still support Arkoudaki, my half-brother, in pursuing his claim on it. Which, if he decides he wants more than his fair share, will make things difficult."

'That's a Greek name,' Blackhand mutters for the first time since the, uh, the 'incident'. 'Wonder what kind of cultivation this 'Arkoudaki' is working with?'

"Well," you frown as you plant your hands on your hips, weapons jingling with the powerful motion "if it's a fight he wants, it's a fight he'll get! We've got plenty allies, husband, don't forget that."

"I won't," Abjorn shakes his head, "forget that, that is. I'm just worried he'll challenge me to a wager of battle over the inheritance."

You nearly stumble as you realize what that means, hands leaving your hips to grab the nearest tree branch, "Oh... That's not good."

"No, it's not." Abjorn sighs as he runs his hands through his hair, a few gray strands peeking through the blonde. "If I were to lose, he'd get all my property."

"So he'd get... everything, really." You might be able to keep the land, given that it was your dowry, but everything on that land would go to this 'Arkoudaki'. How that would play out in the courts isn't something you're especially eager to find out, least of all because it would mean losing Abjorn for good. Dividing one's property is never an easy ordeal, not when people still yet live.

"I can only hope Arkoudaki is reasonable, or is at least a poor fighter." Abjorn slumps as he walks, not believing for a second that Arkoudaki would be bad at fighting. It's, unfortunately, just not how the world works. Still, Abjorn is a beast of a man, you've know doubt that he'd win any fight if it came down to it!

It's as you go to tell him that that your mind notices something in the passing landscape. The deeper you travel into the Hading, the hillier the ground gets beneath your feet. It's subtle at first, only a few inclines barely worth the name of 'hill'. but the closer you draw to the center, the greater the mounds grow until they're towering as high or even higher than any man or tree!

Wait... What was it that Skavidr called the Hading? The 'Valley of Crowned-Barrows'?

...These aren't hills, are they?

'Barrows, one and all.'

It's as Blackhand's voice rings in your ears that eyes fall upon you from the forest. Freezing on the spot, Abjorn wordlessly takes position with his back to yours and weapons in hand. Despite the clear presence of power, the owners of the invisible eyes dare not attack. Perhaps they're merely watching, waiting for some unseen signal? Maybe they're the warning not to tread any further?

Regardless, you'll need to make a decision.
[ ] Push on despite the danger (Begins The Heart of the Hading)
[ ] Leave now to return at a later date

0~0~0

AN: Merry Christmas everyone, a Happy Holidays, a Yogic Yule, and a happy whatever else you celebrate, if anything!

What a gift, eh? Sorry if it's bad, I was a little bit sleep deprived while writing this as I had to get up early for presents and the like.

No moratorium, short vote.

 

[I.F. Ister]

Spoiler: Path Chosen

[X] Push on despite the danger (Begins _The Heart of the Hading_)

0~0~0

Invisible eyes linger on your forms as you and your husband move as one through the densely-packed trees. The trail—left there by some unknown past traveler—is only traceable thanks to the low light levels rendering things like grass and bushes unable to grow. Nevertheless, the path is as winding and difficult to follow as you'd expect from a place like this.

The barrows only grow taller as your passage takes you further into the depths. Towering monoliths to ages past, they stand as the sole mark of that which came before. Deeper than you've ever head anyone go in the Hading, the air itself is rich with unchecked growth.

Deep divots sit in the ground on either side of the trail, each positioned off a ways from the foot-trodden path. Where once stood homes and buildings, now there is only pits in the earth. It's a fate that awaits all the buildings of the world, you realize as you pass by one that looks disturbingly like the foundations of your own home, to wind up in a place like this.

Eventually, the trees grow thinner and thinner as the canopy falls away. Invisible eyes stay watching, but they stay with the trees and go no further as you step into a grotto.

The faint tinkle of a waterfall catches your ears like the song of a working woman as you blink in the sudden sunlight, the only shade a gift of the truly gargantuan ash dominating the entire flower-coated clearing. It's ancient and gnarled, covered in wounds gathered over the course of what must have been thousands of years.

Where other trees bow to the wind and sway to the beat, the wind makes way for this tree's rest. With Winter on the distant horizon, some of the trees have started to change colors and shed their leaves. Where other trees bow to the whims of the cold, the winter begs this tree for forgiveness as it sweeps across the grotto.

But where other trees are whole and hearty, this tree bears a wound like none other. A crater drives itself through the bark and deep into the wood. Hundreds upon hundreds of rings spill out as the crater mars the surface of natural grace and beauty. Cracks spiderweb out from the epicenter as the reality of the situation dawns on you.

This... This wound is the result of cultivators at war. A battle between titans, where one lived and the other didn't.

There are only two battles you know of that could cause a wound like this. The duel between your own grandfather, Hallr Blackhand, and Hasvir Hadingshero.

...And the battle between Hasvir Hadingshero and Drysalt Hadingsbane.

The only question is, which is it?

What would you like to do first?
[ ] Investigate the Great Ash
[ ] Investigate the waterfall's song
[ ] Investigate the remnants of those that came before

0~0~0

AN: Not much to say here.

No moratorium.

 

[I.F. Ister]

Spoiler: Chosen Option

[X] Investigate the Great Ash

0~0~0

The Great Ash, like all ash trees before it, is a model of Yggdrasil itself. A squat trunk of great thickness, dozens of arms branching off from the top of the base, and branches sprouting off in ever greater numbers to carry green leaves upon their backs.

The Great Ash's shadow falls across the verdant grotto like a watchful parent's eye. The passage of the sun across the sky hinders not the shadow as it lays upon the grass and trickling rivulets of the waterfall. Water runs in streamlets as it feeds into the surrounding forests, the Great Ash giving freely of its strength to its younger siblings.

As you approach the Great Ash, the odd swish of a sound catches your ears. It is far from unfamiliar, countless times have you heard wind through trees, but never before has the Great Ash ever paid heed to the whims of the wind.

There, in the branches, is the source of the sound. An ethereal woman gently drifts down from the highest points, her love-filled, tear-stained eyes staying locked to the Wound. Her hair spreads out around her like the wings of a flying beard, the strands riding the wind as she lays a silent palm to the surface of the tree.

The tree shudders as the Hading sighs, her eyes passing from her husband to you. Her voice is like a bell's warning chime. Sharp, loud, yet with a certain hint of musicality underlying the call. "Far have you travelled, deep into the heart of my lands. With what purpose have you come all this way?"

The Askafroa—for that is what the Hading is in truth—turns towards you without pulling her hand away from her husband's surface. Her face is so beautiful that it fills your stomach with an odd unease. Perfection made manifest, there's not a speck of inconsistency in her uniform face. Like the wings of a butterfly, both sides of her face are a perfect copy of the other. "Speak, braver of danger, for there is precious little time to waste."

Realizing that you'd been holding your breath, you cough and clear your throat. Even the slight imperfection of a cough seems like sacrilege in a place like this and you resist the urge to apologize profusely for your transgressions. Steeling up your spine, you breath in and out before greeting the Hading as is only proper.

"I am Halla Sunshine, Seeress of the Hading Valley, and I come seeking answers."

The Hading sighs and lets her head droop, "I had thought I sensed the soul of Solrun leave my realm, but had hoped to have been wrong." Her shoulders drop as she shakes her head, "Alas, such is the way of things." Fixing you with her pupil-less stare, she gestures for you to begin, "You came seeking answers to questions? Ask them quickly, for there is little time for you to dawdle."

Nodding, you swallow and do just that.

What questions do you ask?
[ ] Write in (Plan vote)

(Beware the number of questions you ask, for voicing too many will push you over the time limit. You have no idea how long you have until your time is through, nor what will happen should you stay too long. Whether it would harm you or not is unknown)
0~0~0

AN: Alrighty, there's the update!

No moratorium.

 

[I.F. Ister]

Spoiler: Three Questions

[X] Plan: Three Questions
-[X] Drysalt Hadingsbane has begun to meddle again, I need to know how Hasvir Hadinghero sealed him, or barring that, a means to ask his spirit myself.
-[X] On that note, there's a few words I'd like to speak to my husband, would you and yours be willing and able to keep certain prying eyes and ears obscured for a moment? Not without recompense of course.
-[X] Why is this called the Valley of Crowned Barrows by some? What's the story behind that name?

0~0~0

'Three questions is probably the trick,' Blackhand mutters as you nod along, 'that's how these things so often go.'

It makes sense, after all. Three is an ever-so special number.

Dark hair longer than any man spreads out behind the Askafroa like the wings of a soaring hawk as she waits for your questions. Black strands wrap around branches as a chair of woven twigs lowers from the depths of her husband's boughs. One leg over the other, she takes a seat as you find your words.

Lifting your chin, you meet the spirit's empty eyes with your steel, "Drysalt Hadingsbane has begun to meddle again, I need to know how Hasvir Hadingshero sealed him, or barring that, a means to ask his spirit myself."

A pained rattle sweeps across the surface of her husband as she closes her eyes. Fingers tracing the length of the crack-bordered crater, she releases a heavy sigh, "The one known as Drysalt is an ever-so-perfidious thorn in my side and has already made moves to stop any attempt at sealing him away. My husband," a branch lowers to brush up against her traveling hand, "a warden tree, was planted to serve as the lock and this wound," tears threaten to trickle down her cheeks, "was meant to break my dearest. It failed, as can clearly be seen, but the lock is in no condition to be used as long as this wound remains."

The wind whispers warnings as the Askafroa's lips twist into a deep frown, "Hasvir Hadingshero will know how to heal the wound, as it was his ancestors that planted my love so many years ago. He rests in the field of flowers, Folkvangr, and my blessing shall ensure your entry to Sessrumnir."

As her words reach your ears, so too does a certain warmth reach your soul. The heat of a gentle summer's touch, like a bird's wings wrapping around its young, alights upon your very being in an unknowable, imperceptible mass of glowing strength. How long it will last you know not, but it shall certainly see you into Freyja's great hall.

'For something so potent to be freely given...' Blackhand muses as you breathe uncertain, a gentle chuckle on his lips, 'It seems the rumors of the Hading loving humans has truth to it.'

Taking a deep breath to center yourself, you nod your silent thanks as you turn to your next question, "On that note, there's a few words I'd like to speak to my husband, would you and yours be willing and able to keep certain prying eyes and ears obscured for a moment? Not without recompense of course."

The Hading chuckles as the tree creaks its laughter, "Oh Child of Ash and Elm, there is no distance I would not go for you. You have my aid, free of charge, for however long you need of it." A gentle sigh splits her lips as her shoulders fall, "However, I fear you will not have enough time for all you desire, for the shadowed remnants are deeply jealous of that which is."

Shadowed remnants? The eyes still linger from the forest, but now you have a name to call them by and a third question to ask, "Why is this called the Valley of Crowned Barrows by some? What's the story behind that name?"

"When this valley was known by that name," the Hading begins as the trees creak and shake with the growing wind, "my earliest ancestor was merely a wisp in the wind, barely capable of thought let alone memory. My husband had not yet been born, nor would he be born for tens of thousands of years. The Valley of Crowned-Barrows," the air sizzles as she speaks that name, "is all that is left of a people now gone, wiped away by the passage of time." Directing a hand towards the forest, her next words confirm a certain theory of yours, "You can sense their watchful gaze, can't you? The eyes of those that came before, the Shades of ages past, can hardly stand to see others with that which they once had. Their jealousy shall soon breed anger and resentment. They won't be able to resist the urge to attack, should you dawdle too long."

Taking her words to heart, you consider your next action.
[ ] Leave now
[ ] Initiate Abjorn
[ ] Investigate
-[ ] Write in
[ ] Ask further questions
-[ ] Write in

0~0~0

AN: The Hading cares not for such silly things as 'wasting time' or 'beating about the bush'.

No moratorium, potential for another update as my VtM game got cancelled because of shit weather.

 

[I.F. Ister]

Spoiler: Path Chosen

[X] Initiate Abjorn

0~0~0

Abjorn lays on his back, his clothing doffed and stacked neatly nearby, as his eyes look to the sky. The great slabs of his hair-choked chest rise and fall with every breath, his mouth dry and lips pressed thin.

"Will it hurt?" Abjorn's voice is quiet as you pause your preparations—simple busywork to take your mind off the coming tension.

Swallowing, you speak the honest truth, "I... I don't know."

Abjorn is quiet for a long, drawn-out moment as the watching eyes grow ever-more-hateful. Eventually, he sets his jaw, closes his eyes, and nods. "I trust you."

The short phrase, though simple, is still sweeter than any fruit. If your heart wasn't already his, he'd have stolen it all over again. Hiding your smile behind your Seeress' soul, you flex your fingers and turn to your husband.

Not waiting to see if he's ready—for the wait is always the worst part—your palm finds his naked flesh and power surges from deep within. Crimson strength wraps about your limbs as he tenses, eyes snapping wide and bloodshot as teeth click shut with enough strength to shatter stone. Knuckles pop as his hands twist into tight fists, bones cracking and groaning from the tension of his muscles.

The first drops of odr touch his soul and he stops. The twitch of his muscles, the shivering of his eyes, the flexing of his hands, it all goes quiet as odr flows through dozens upon dozens of dampening layers of orthstirr might.

Odr enters his body and slowly gathers in his soul as you watch what was once empty and white grow into a plot of potential. Odr gently carves a pit in the middle of his soul, the excess piling around it to add further height and depth to the gathering well. The well-topped hill slowly grows as odr feeds into it with carefully-restrained precision.

Time seems to struggle in the face of such focus, your body locked in place as your willpower does its work. By the time your senses come back to you, the sun has crept across the sky and a voice in your ear greets with a warning.

"Wake swiftly, Child of Ash and Elm," the voice of the Hading speaks with urgency as her eyes stay locked to the encroaching darkness, "for your husband requires the strength of your arm."

It doesn't take long for you to realize why Abjorn would need your strength, for the shadows of past glories have crept ever-closer in the slow passage of time. With Abjorn recovering from his initiation into odr, he's completely defenseless against the predations of the envy-ridden. You'll have to defend him until he wakes.

Against such an onslaught as the one you now face, few would be able to stand. All is not lost, however, for the Hading herself fights by you on this day.

0~0~0
(Tactics: 5+7) 12 Successes

The Shades—as that is what you've taken to calling them—are numerous and plentiful. Their endurance leaves much to be desired and can be destroyed with a swish of the blade. However, where their endurance fails them, their blades still bear sharp edges.

There must be well over a hundred pairs of eyes watching you from the darkness. Where the light shines reveals swords, daggers, helmets, and odd oblong shields—all forged of a bronze. Horses call from the darkness as whips crack. The thunder of wheels across the ground rattles in the distance as a great host readies itself for war.

They will start slowly, with careful probing to reveal your lacking areas, and then quickly ramp up the ferocity as your strength starts to wane. Their blows lack the strength of flesh behind it, meaning that the slightest effort shall see you safe. However, Abjorn cannot put even the smallest amount of effort into his protection.

If you take too long, they will overwhelm you. If you are overwhelmed, the Shades will slay your husband. Though a mere bodily death, who knows what horrors it would reap upon his cultivation? It is best to not find out.

Endurance: (17/17) | Frenzy: (7/7) (+7 to all Combat Rolls) | Armor: (42/42) (+9 to Defense)
Orthstirr: (1603/1603) | Odr: (79)
( ) Frami: 534 | ( ) Virthing: 534 | ( ) Saemd: 534
Sagaseeker has 80 orthstirr in his reservoir.
Emberguard has 28 orthstirr in its reservoir.
Shapeshifting (8 Slots) + Runes are granting you (+1 Damage, +3 Attack-Speed)
Shapecrafted Slots are granting you (+5 Attack-Speed)
Your combat pool is 141d6 and you have 21d6 Stoked Dice

What do you do?
[ ] (Plan Name)
-[ ] (Dice) Attack
-[ ] (Dice) Defense
-[ ] (Dice) Intercept
-[ ] (Dice) (Trick) (Orthstirr)
-[ ] Tactics Write in

0~0~0

AN: Not much to say here other than no moratorium.

 

[I.F. Ister]

Spoiler: Speedy Engagement

-[X] Put up two 40d6+7 Atgeir Bodyguards adding **1 Odr** each on Abjorn (-92 Orthstirr, **-2 Odr**), and an Atgeir Counter-Stab prepped to make thirty-one 3d6+7 Sharpened Basic Attacks adding **1 Odr** (-39 Orthstirr, **-1 Odr**), having Sagaseeker take charge of one of the Bodyguards and the Counter-Stab using them himself. Draw Burning Caress. Ask Shadeclaw to guard him as well, to the best of her ability when not worn.
-[X] Set up a 120d6+7 Semi-Halting Vortex adding **6 Odr** (Total -121 Orthstirr, +3 Stoked Pool, **-6 Odr**) set up to only be used as a rolled defense never as a Perfect, and do not use it against Fleinns
-[X] As backups, put up a 40d6+7 Sword Guard (-44 Orthstirr), and three 40d6+7 Semi-Halting Vortexes (Total -123 Orthstirr, +9 Stoked Pool) set up to only be used as rolled defenses never as Perfects, and neither against Fleinns

-[X] Tactics – The basic idea here is to set up some serious defenses in depth over Abjorn especially (including asking Sagaseeker and Shadeclaw to guard him), and stand over him protectively, then go to town using Stoked Engage as fast as possible to whittle down our enemies numbers as they come to us (we should have Speed 29 for our Stoking Engage stuff), then a Stoking Cleave to really clear them out.

0~0~0
152+159+60+72+78+70+61+177+190+173+182+165+177=1716, successfully defending Abjorn.
You have a scant few heartbeats before a spine-rattling bellow rises from the earth. As one, the shades rush in with weapons held high and shadows streaking off their limbs. Swords and daggers flash as bronze catches the light sun of the setting sun. The forces of the past surge to consume the present, but they'll have to overcome its defenders, and you are no easy foe to face, not by any consideration of the word.

Burning Caress snaps out with lethal aim as you cleave a leaping shade from head to toe in a single blow. Wisps of swirling shadows fall from the wound as the echo of the past sinks back into the darkness of the earth. Reforming in the distance, the remnant-warrior rejoins the fight after a bare few seconds. Though there's only about a hundred of them, their refusal to give up the fight means that you'll be here for quite some time.

Your limbs bleed fire as you strike out again and again. Burning Caress and a nameless shield work together to strike down all that would dare approach you. Shade after shade leaps screeching only to meet pitiful ends on the edge of your sword and shield. Foes die in droves, but even with all your speed, you're only barely able to keep up.

If you were the only thing keeping Abjorn's sleeping body safe, than you would have lost even before the sun passed the horizon and cast the world in darkness. Fortunately, you are far from alone. Not only do ghostly weapons defend your husband in a whirlwind of blades and battle, but the very earth itself rises up for war beneath your feet.

Chariots manned by red-eyed shadows thunder across the battlefield in a marriage of horse and bronze. Arrows and spears rain down around you as you dance to and fro, dodging all the attacks with ease but unable to respond for fear of leaving Abjorn exposed. However, as luck would have it, your efforts would be redundant in dealing with the chariots.

Roots burst from the ground as the wind howls its fury. Wood collides with bronze as roots weave in and around the spokes of the wheels. With a furious crunch, the roots rip the wheels off and the chariots apart with a relentless anger.

The chariots reform in the distance, as they always do, but the momentary respite from the arrows and spears is a Gods-sent gift in this never-ending onslaught.

Under the light of the rising full moon, you do battle against the hordes of the forgotten past. Bronze against iron, a strange sense of familiarity passes over you as you dash shadows aside and send them back from whence they came.

Impossibly, though your limbs burn from the fires of exhaustion and your breath stays leaden in your lungs, the glimmer of hope shines from between the trees. From the tree-swamped horizon rises a sight you've long since forgotten: the warm light of the summer sun.

The shadows retreat as the sun climbs the sky and you fall to your knees with tears in your eyes. Abjorn's eyes flutter as he stirs, his rest uninterrupted and allowing him to adapt fully to the presence of odr.

You did it. Abjorn Bearbreaker, your husband dearest, is now an odr cultivator.

May the Gods have mercy on those who would oppose you, for now they face true power.

(Abjorn can now cultivate odr, good job)
0~0~0
Personal (Pick 1, if no Exploration is picked, as 2 are taken up by Latin. 1 Free Social):
[ ] (Here, Kitty-Kitty) Attempt to make friends with the skogtatt
-[ ] (Write in) How do you go about this?
[ ] (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 someone to buy something for you (Write in)
[ ] (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... (0 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 90 XP to spend as you see fit.
[ ] (Research) Try to figure out how things work (Write in)
[ ] (Drifa) Teach Drifa some of your tricks (Write in)
[ ] (Blackhand) Try to develop old/train new hugareida tricks (Write in)
[ ] (Training) Hamr (511 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 (320 XP to rank up)
-[ ] (Optional) Train a fylgja skill or trick (Write in)
0~0~0

Spoiler: Optionals

Orthstirr Available: 1603
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: 16/16
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 179 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)

0~0~0
(Coin Flip for Owl Gacha: Tails) No gacha for you
AN: And there we go, finally at the end of this sea- Wait, no, it's just the second turn of Summer and not the final one... Sigh.

Regardless, Summer 11 is currently 92k words on my side of things—which has a bunch of extra notes and the like in it—so it's the longest season of NorseQuest so far.

25-minute moratorium

 

[I.F. Ister]

Spoiler: Fylgja Reveals

[X] Plan Fylgja Reveals
-[X] Free Action: Deliver messages securely to both Corpsemaker and Dorri informing them that Skavidr is a spy, likely from Rogaland. In both cases apologize and note that the other also needed to be informed.
-[X] [X] Learn Latin from Brother Bartholomew x2
--[X] See if we can get to know him as a person during this time
-[X] [Social] (Personal) Spend time with...
--[X] Our Family and Retainers
--[X] Get to know the new retainers a little, help everyone settle in, reveal Fylgjas for all adults using Norse cultivation that so desire (including Haydis, Asva, Jordan, and Stigrun)
-[X] (Exploration) Go on a walk through...
--[X] The coast!
---[X] (Optional) Send your fylgja in your place (Does not cost an action)

-[X] (Research)
--[X] Invite Kurt to join in the communal sparring, also try and find out more about him if possible – 1 Research
--[X] Try and find out more about Vagn Wheel-Drifter – 1 Research
--[X] Try and find out how Dorri Rattlespear actually fights. A spear is likely involved and he has a Ring style involving crushing planes of force, but what else has he got? – 1 Research
--[X] Try feeding various tomvaettir in our soul things that are not traditionally foods (rocks, wood, iron, and so on) and see if that works similarly to feeding them different varieties of food – 1 Research
--[X] Try and experiment with using _Flamecalling_ and _Unleash Inferno_ as a power source for our _Flame-Tending Blade_ and _Thermic Reckoning_. See if we can use flame to fuel these techniques in the same way we have already discovered we can with Stoked Dice, which would hopefully work even against people with better firestorm. We will practice on a deserted beach with no extraneous flammables, and shoot all fire over the sea. (+1 Reward Dice - courtesy of [@Skippy](https://forums.sufficientvelocity.com/members/166/) ) – 1 Research
--[X] Right before our Rewrites refresh for the new season (and not before that) Alloy Stoker State and Contested Movement using a Rewrite to force our new alloy to allow Contested Movement to count as a Stoker State Trick for purposes of using only part of the Stoked Pool (allowing us to add only a few dice to it if we so desire) – 1 Research

-[X] (Training) Hugr (255 xp to rank up)
--[X] Train Sparkbomb 72xp (18xp)
--[X] Train the lesser version of Time Stands Still we figured out the principle behind (Stutter Step? Temporal Step?) 4 xp (2xp)
-[X] (Training) Fylga (320 xp to rank up)
--[X] Train Fylgja itself 140 xp (70xp)

-[X] (Work Dice Usage)
--[X] Buildings, Resources, and Livestock: Storage 1, Resources Goods 0, Resources Silver 4, Livestock Goods 0, otherwise maxed out (60 Total)
--[X] Crafting: Create two Superior Mail Shirts for Dorri's Deal, Create 2 Grand Forged Iron Plows, 2 Grand Forged Iron Scythes, 1 Grand Forged Iron Wood Axe, 1 Grand Forged Iron Pot, 2 Grand Forged Iron Work Knives (48 Total)
--[X] Construction: Complete two levels of Living Space 48, Complete Workshop 23 (71 Total),

-[X] (Incidentals)
--[X] Adding Taafl Board Capacity Gains to: Asgeirr, Eyvor,
--[X] Receiving Metal from Dwarves: 24 oz Forged Iron, 2 oz Icy Iron, 4 oz Molten Iron,
-[X] (Capacity Slots)
--[X] Assign Eyeshine Blind, unassign Sailwind
-[X] (Alloy Slots)
--[X] Unassign Fight of Our Lives, assign our new Alloy (from Research above)
-[X] (Shapeshifting Slots)
--[X] Unassign all slots other than Improved Attractiveness and Reduced Sleep, assign Reduced Sleep x6 (total)
-[X] (Assign Hugareida Levels)
--[X] Assign 3 Emberwind Level to Dice
-[X] (Fylgja Capacity)
--[X] Unassign Sparkbomb, assign Cool Off
-[X] (Standing Orders)
--[X] Add a Standing Order for our Fylgja to use Cool Off if we experience any sudden flashes of anger.

0~0~0

Spoiler: Training

Stutter Step training
0~0~0

This idea of yours shows merit, that much is certain as you zip across the pockmarked training grounds—a field of low-fertility ground that you've long used for training purposes. Once, the field was relatively flat and had a few copses of trees to call its own. Now, however, it's a crater-filled moonscape of land covered in broken piles of splinters and more battle-forged hillocks than the eye can see.

Your lungs burn as you take solitary steps in frozen space. With time stuttering around you, you move where others cannot, but your lungs and body simply refuses to go any further than single steps. No matter how hard you try, your feet take you no further.

It seems, for the time being, you'll only be able to take single steps with this 'Stutter Step' technique of yours, though that's all you'll need in most fights. Burns through orthstirr like a furnace, though, so that's something you ought to keep in mind.

(Stutter Step (Cost per step 28 Orthstirr/6 Odr): Allows you to take steps in frozen, stuttering time as many times per round as you have steps. You can only manage one step at the current time. (Refined: 1/6))

Spoiler: Research

Gathering info on Kurt Frogtongue
According to stories, gossip, and rumors, Kurt Frogtongue—second son of Faxi Bushybrows, himself the grandson of the legendary Mark Wolfbane, who slew a Fenriskin in single combat at Kinsvbjury in Geatland—was rather popular with the womenfolk in his early manhood before he married Haydis. Given the source of his kenning, there's little wonder why, exactly, he was so popular.

Of course, jealous suitors and angry menfolk put a stop to that quickly by challenging Kurt to a holmgang. Kurt Frogtongue, though far from a renowned fighter, is anything but a coward. But when he showed up to the isle with weapons and courage, there was no one there to meet him as his opponents had gotten rather drunk the night before on pre-celebratory brews. In a show of magnanimity, Kurt offered to keep the whole thing on the downlow by not mentioning any names in the retelling of the story as long as the menfolk forgot about his popularity with their women. With little other choice, they accepted, and, as a consequence, Kurt found himself married to Haydis Slipshoe.

Kurt Frogtongue also has something of a talent for cobblery and even made a pair of shoes for Dorri Rattlespear! It is said that he won the heart of fair Haydis by solving the problem she had with her shoes. No matter how well she tied the laces, her shoes kept slipping off her feet! As it turned out, there was a problem with how the heel gripped her foot and, in tightening that, Kurt solved Haydis' legendary affliction in one fell swoop.

(Kurt provides +1 XP from sparring)
0~0~0
Gathering info on Vagn Wheel-Drifter
According to stories, gossip, and rumors, Vagn Wheel-Drifter—eldest son of Jorm Snowsling, himself the eldest son of Vagn Tallsails—has only one love in his life. Having never taken a woman of any sort, it seems that Vagn gets his fill from the simple act of going ever-faster.

Having been born beyond the Hading Valley, the exploits of his early life are few and far between. Nevertheless, he's let slip some facts about himself after a few drinks. Vagn is not the type to settle down anywhere for long. He quickly grows tired of the same old roads and the same old scenery. Never has he lingered in any one place for more than five years and he is quite eager to get on his way once the shine wears off from his surroundings.

He's bold and ferocious in battle, but has had a rather unfortunate streak of bad luck when it comes to his most recent opponents. With his poor showings fresh on folks' minds, few are willing to linger around the man for fear of his bad luck rubbing off on them.

0~0~0
Gathering info on Dorri Rattlespear - Focus: Fighting Style
According to stories, gossip, and rumors, Dorri Rattlespear is a force to be reckoned with. Capable of laying waste to entire regions on his lonesome, he is a fearsome foe that must be carefully planned around no matter the scheme, for making a foe of him could be disastrous for any plot.

Dorri Rattlespear is said to wield the Realized spear Starshine, a weapon with an edge of Shivering Iron passed down to him through generations. Decorated with dangling rings of red gold, the spear rattles and jangles as it does its dread work. Though Starshine certainly had a hand in how Dorri acquired his kenning, it is far from the only reason behind the name Rattlespear.

Dorri Rattlespear has three combat hugareida, one of which he is said to be a master of. The first is none other than dread Earthquake. A master in its usage, he once forced the walls of a fortress to collapse in on itself during the Riot Wars. He also bears Landslide—an Earth Hugareida—and Acceleration.

Dorri Rattlespear has two Martial Styles, Mirror Waltz and Crushing-Crevice. Mirror Waltz, the landmark style of Kyrsvikingar, involves bouncing hugareida and other attacks at the source, scaling off the strength of the attack. Crushing-Crevice, however, is a ring style currently in the possession of Dorri himself. It is said that he's done little to help spread the usage of it, allowing it to slowly fade out of public perception. Whether that's because he has some issue with it or not is unclear.

Whenever he takes to the battlefield, it is best to stay out of his way as he lays low whole swathes of the enemy. Credited with over three hundred kills, he is death on legs and any warrior should think twice before challenging a master like him.

He fights with shield and spear, a master of offense and defense fully capable of swapping between the two on the fly. With a wicked intelligence and sharp eyes, it is said that though he is a beast of combat, his greatest strength lies in his ability to read his foes and develop counter-strategies with seaming ease.

0~0~0
Feeding Tomvaettir things
As you feed some of the tomvaettir in your soul rocks, wood, and metal, you notice that the tomvaettir you feed a few months prior have vanished. In their place now sits a number of different spirits, each far more advanced than their previous selves.

Grjonvaett - Spirit of grain, pleasing the local grjonvaettir can mean bountiful harvests of grain while angering them can mean your grain withers in your fields.
Kjotvaett - Spirit of meat, pleasing the local kjotvaettir can mean you get ample meat from your animals and that it keeps for longer times. Angering them means that the meat is stringy and lacking in substance while it goes bad quicker.
Fiskvaett - Spirit of fish, pleasing the local fiskvaettir can mean bountiful catches of fish while angering them can mean that they drive the fish away.
Eplivaett - Spirit of fruit, pleasing the local eplivaettir can mean that the fruit-bearing trees have great harvests while angering them can mean that the local trees are barren and empty, or even poisonous to eat.
Grasvaett - Spirit of vegetation, pleasing the local grasvaettir can mean that the vegetables grow well while angering them can mean that the vegetables grow poorly or are even poisonous to eat.
0~0~0
Experimenting with Firestorm-fuelled Finales
Unfortunately, despite the cleverness of your ideas, it seems that Firestorm is simply too unruly to deign to being corralled into a formation like the Flame-Tending Blade or even Thermic Reckoning.

(I'll refund that reward dice)
0~0~0
Rewriting Alloys
Using the power of your will, you force reality to allow the usage of only a little bit of Stoker State's strength at a time with your Contested Movement trick.

0~0~0
Learning Latin from Brother Bartholomew
"You're doing quite well, young miss Halla," Brother Bartholomew nods before shuffling in, the smile slipping as he points to the writing slate in your hands. "However, there's more than a few mistakes in this script."

Bartholomew, as a teacher, is tough but fair—the toughest you've ever had, in fact! Where other teachers allow you to ask off-topic questions, Bartholomew has no patience for any such perceived laziness. Breaks are few and far between, though never so lacking as to cause actual problems. Honestly, it reminds you a lot of the bad parts of men's work—the days-long treks into the wilds to forage up food and fodder, to name but a single example.

Still, it beats learning weaving from Asveig, that's for sure! ...The necklace around your neck grows heavy with the thought of your long-gone mother. Man, it's been a few years since you last thought about your mom, huh? Not a day goes by that you don't miss Steinarr's presence, but Asveig? That's... Does that make you a bad daughter?

Bartholomew squints as the sound of pen-on-wax goes silent, a light frown dusting across his face, "You stopped writing, is everything alright?"

Blinking, you snap back to the present with a hurried shake of the head, "No, well, yeah, but," you breathe a heavy groan as you slump and run hands across your face, "Guh, I need a break! All this Latin's making my brain go silly."

Bartholomew stares for a long moment before sighing. Waving a hand above his head, he shakes it before stretching his back and stifling a yawn, "Yes, well, I suppose that a break may well be in order," he grumbles to himself as he pours a mug of light ale while sliding over two bowls of the evening meal—a soup of onions, beats, and whale meat served with a healthy loaf of fresh-baked bread.

Quickly drowning out your thoughts with the meal set before you, you find your mind turning to a new, more welcome topic: Bartholomew. You'd tried to get information out of him in the past, but the man was on a mission to teach you Latin and he'd brook no distractions in his quest to do just that. However, with a bowl of warm food set before him, perhaps now is the time to make your move? Never before has someone successfully avoided your questions and now is no different!

Turning to your tutor, you eye him with curiosity in your gaze. "So, Bartholomew, where are you from? Do you have any family? What do you hope to do once you get back?"
Can Halla get Bartholomew talking? (Silver-Tongue: 15+1(Friendly)+6(Odr)-12(Difficulty)+1(Reward Dice)) 11, a Good Success
Distracted by the warm meal, Bartholomew doesn't notice your empty bowl as he answers, "I was born in a wealthy estate in Mercia, near to the border with Wales. The second son of a wealthy Thane, my life was a simple one as I had little in the way of ambition other than for my studies. My elder brother—I had three siblings, two brothers and a sister—was a Thane in all the important ways while my younger brother took to the Chivalric path with glee." Tapping the spoon against the bowl, Bartholomew sighs and shakes his head, "He died in a duel of honor, mere days after earning his Knighthood. It was his death that actually prompted King Alfred to ban the practice for Englishborn Knights and Squires, a sentiment few were happy with back then."

"And your sister, what of her?" Eager to not lose the moment, you slide another bowl your way before digging in.

Bartholomew's face twists into a deep frown as he sighs once more, "Died in childbirth, I'm afraid. A surprise set of triplets were two-too-many for my dear Anne. As I was captured as war-booty in a raid not long after, I haven't any idea as how her husband, Godwin Blackstone, cared for the children. I can only hope that he accepted them as his, for I suppose I shall find out when I return."

Your spoon clatters against the once-more empty bowl as you hear that name. Blackstone? Like Gabriel Blackstone?

Blackhand's chuckles echo in your head, 'The world is a shockingly small place, sometimes.'

Bartholomew twitches as the clatter of wood-on-wood draws him from his thoughts. Shaking his head, he rounds on you with a deeply-motivated set to his jaw, "That's enough of a break! Back to work, for I have a home to see!"

0~0~0
Unveiling Fylgjur
One after the other, you unveil the fylgjur of your close friends and adult family. While you've only got the time for a few fylgjur—about half the total number—you've still got enough strength for eight unveilings.

As Trausti steps away from the circle, his newly-revealed bear following close behind, you wipe a thick layer of sweat from your brow as you smile.

All around you are people getting used to and well-acquainted with their newfound fylgjur companions. Asva's owl circles overhead alongside Haydis' raven. Jordan and Stigmar's dogs run around with Tryggr's wolf as Kurt's frog rides upon his shoulder. Stigrun's snake slithers over the ground as Stigrun herself stares with a certain unhappiness to her mien.

Not everyone is satisfied with how their soul is expressed in animal form, for staring into a fylgja is staring into one's own soul and such a sight is not always welcome.

But such is life.

0~0~0
Exploring the Coast (Hamingja: 20+2(Reward Dice)) 22, a Superior Success
Your own fylgja soars high overhead as you send it scouting across the coasts. There, as it flies upon the thermal updrafts and wide-open skies, you spy what appears to be a total of five new farms being constructed by faces you struggle to recognize.

It seems you'll be having a fair few new neighbors in the coming months. Perhaps you should go and introduce yourself sometime?


0~0~0
It's time for the Seasonal Thing! Would you like to go and what would you like to do there?
[ ] Write in (Leave blank if you don't wish to go)

0~0~0
Personal (Pick 2/3, if no Exploration is picked. 1 Free Social and 1 Free Action (Refunded From Last Turn)):
[ ] (Here, Kitty-Kitty) Attempt to make friends with the skogtatt
-[ ] (Write in) How do you go about this?
[ ] (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 someone to buy something for you (Write in)
[ ] (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!
-[ ] 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 91 XP to spend as you see fit.
[ ] (Research) Try to figure out how things work (Write in)
[ ] (Drifa) Teach Drifa some of your tricks (Write in)
[ ] (Blackhand) Try to develop old/train new hugareida tricks (Write in)
[ ] (Training) Hamr (511 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 (180 XP to rank up)
-[ ] (Optional) Train a fylgja skill or trick (Write in)
0~0~0

Spoiler: Optionals

Orthstirr Available: 1603
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: 16/16
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 179 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)

0~0~0

AN: Not super happy with this one, but it's the first turn back in the saddle of normal turns so I'll allow it.

Also, I'll not be rolling random events for a few years in an effort to give you folks some downtime. To help with this, I'll ask that you folks not go on any voyages as that will be super intensive and I'd like a break from that for a bit. You can assign people to go on voyages in your stead, though, and they'll not be rolling any danger rolls or anything like that—unless you overuse it.

25-minute moratorium.

 

[I.F. Ister]

Spoiler: Crafting, Surveillance, and the Thing

[X] Plan Crafting, Surveillance, and the Thing
-[X] Attend The Thing!
--[X] Bring family, have a nice time
--[X] Listen for any interesting gossip
--[X] Meet any newcomers and try to be friendly
-[X] Sacrifice 81 Food for 9 Temporary Hamingja


-[X] [Travel] Surveillance
--[X] Use the box of bees and its bee-spirits to put together a 24/7 spying operation on Dorri, his immediate family, and retainers. Focus lesson trying to breach whatever spells he has up - that will only risk drawing attention and be unlikely to work - and more on building a picture of their movements. They can't ward themselves in public, not easily or completely.
---[X] The plan here is introduce ourselves and negotiate with the bees if possible rather than compelling them.
--[X] We will use Dressed in Rags and mundane Stealth (including enhancing it with shapeshifting), via our fylgja when appropriate, to also surveil Dorri ourselves when it seems unlikely to get us caught, leaving out additional bees in any unusual locations he seems to frequent.
--[X] When bee-based surveillance starts to put together a picture of where he might be meeting Drysalt or what is otherwise the most important place, go in person. Try and record an Experience, as this will be unimpeachable court testimony.
-[X] [Social] (Personal) Spend time with...
--[X] Ingolf, though Kare is likely also along
--[X] The idea here is to try and help him through his fears, specifically, we'd like to start teaching him Campfire and (obviously) also see that he spends time with women and women with magic in particular.
-[X] (Exploration) Go on a walk through...
--[X] The coast!
---[X] (Optional) Send your fylgja in your place (Does not cost an action)

-[X] (Crafting) Try to make something (1)
--[X] Forged Iron Mail and Mail-Necked Helm for Kare (+17 successes fromTools/Workshop)
--[X] Using the bone ash from a bear
--[X] Quenched in Hearthroot Oil
--[X] Including reforging his existing armor (assuming he's fine with that)
-[X] (Crafting) Try to make something (2)
--[X] Paired Arm-Rings for Abjorn (+17 successes from Tools/Workshop)
--[X] Using bear bone ash
--[X] Duplicating our own arm-rings in mixed silver and gold
--[X] Duplicating the runework on our arm-rings as well
--[X] Adding **3 Odr** to the Artcraft roll for runes.
-[X] (Crafting) Try to make something (3)
--[X] Forged Iron Cooking Pot (+17 successes from Tools/Workshop)
--[X] Using Whale Bone Ash
--[X] Duplicating the Runework from our other cooking pot
--[X] Adding **3 Odr** each to both the basic crafting roll and the Artcraft roll for runes. Assign one of the bonus successes from Aspects to Artcraft instead of Housecraft.
-[X] (Crafting) Try to make something (4)
--[X] Forged Iron Wood Axe (+17 successes from Tools/Workshop)
--[X] Using beaver Bone Ash
--[X] "As it clears the path for the farming of land, may this axe clear the path to all learning of farming and labor." -(Hopefully a training item for Labor and Farmwork)
-[X] (Crafting) Try to make something (5)
--[X] Forged Iron Mail and Mail-Necked Helm for Kurt (+17 successes fromTools/Workshop)
-[X] (Crafting) Try to make something (6)
--[X] Forged Iron Mail and Mail-Necked Helm for Ingolf (+17 successes fromTools/Workshop)
-[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] Burning Frami, Virthing, and Saemd (for +1 Success each, +3 successes total) to enhance the crafting process

-[X] (Research)
--[X] Take standard precautions when infusing Hugr as best we can
--[X] Give up to 3 Whale Bone each to Sagaseeker and Shadeclaw and see if they like it.
--[X] Get information on Kare Wolf-Seek and, ideally his brother Ingolf –1 Research
--[X] Get information on Eyesteinn – 1 Research
--[X] Study the Latin inscriptions on the Knightly Armor, figure out what they say – 1 Research
--[X] Start learning the Slavic language from the ex-thralls (and teaching them Norse, probably) – 1 Research
--[X] Try very carefully inverting Standstill and see what we get as a general thing rather than the specific Tricks we've gained before – 1 Research
--[X] Check on the spritual ecology of our soulscape, watch how they interact, try and figure out what is missing or would be helpful – 1 Research

-[X] (Training) Hamr (511 xp to rank up)
--[X] Train Fire Starter 4xp (2xp)
-[X] (Training) Hugr (255 xp to rank up)
--[X] Train Stutter Stepl 6 xp (3xp)
-[X] (Training) Fylga (180 xp to rank up)
--[X] Train Fylgja itself 180 xp (90xp)

-[X] (Work Dice Usage)
--[X] Buildings, Resources, and Livestock: 1Storage, otherwise maxed out (71 Total)
--[X] Crafting: Create Grand Silver Arm-Rings for 5 Retainers, and reforge our Forged Iron Plow and Scythe at Grand Quality (35 Total)
---[X] Hold off on giving these out quite yet, we'll do so once we have them for all our retainers
--[X] Construction: Complete a level of Building Quality 32, Complete a level of Living Space 64 (96 Total)
--[X] Seidr: Capture an Experience for the Bridge and Burl Portal Method (9 Total)
---[X] Technically we're saving this to capture something on Dorri, then using it for this if that never comes up
--[X] Conversion: Spend for 5 Research Dice (10 Total)
-[X] (Incidentals)
--[X] Infuse **128 Odr** into Hugr and **4 Odr** into Wordplay
--[X] Adding Taafl Board Capacity Gains to: Eyvor, Hallbjorn,
--[X] Receiving Metal from Dwarves: 24 oz Forged Iron, 6 oz Icy Iron
-[X] (Shapeshifting Slots)
--[X] Reassign five slots of Reduced Sleep to Increased Lung Capacity, Adrenaline Rush x2, and Sharpened Senses x2,
-[X] (Capacity Slots)
--[X] Assign Atgeir Strike, Vortex Gathering, Stutter Step, and the new Experience.
-[X] (Alloy Slots)
--[X] Assign Fight of Our Lives
-[X] (Fylgja Alloy/Shapeshifting Slots)
--[X] Remove Sparkbomb from our Fast and add our new Frenzy to the empty Fast.

0~0~0
Fylgja Rank 10
In the privacy of an empty field, your fylgja tucks its beak close to its chest as a strange sense of growth overtakes the world. Grass sprouts from beneath your feet as once-tiny saplings blot out the horizon in their haste to grow yet taller.

The strength of your soul prepares itself to reach new heights as your fylgja readies in turn. Soon, new power shall surge through your limbs as harmless crimson flames lift away from your skin.

All that's left to do is decide how, exactly, that strength shall manifest itself. Three paths lay before you, each with their promised gifts. One promises to lay great renown across your shoulders as the next promises the right of ruling while a third offers heritage of your father, a connection that tugs at your heartstrings.

Which route do you take?
[ ] Honored Cindersoot Owl
-Doubles Orthstirr Rewards

[ ] Ruler's Cindersoot Owl
-Completes Jarlsoul-in-Training

[ ] Father's Cindersoot Owl
-Triples basic moves

0~0~0
3 x 9 = 27
Walking back home with soul strengthened by a growing fylgja, something feels... Different. The well-trodden path beneath your feet is familiar, yes, but now it's almost like it's responding to your passage. The trees sway in the wind as they always have, but now it's almost as if they sway to better see your motions.

It's then that realization strikes like a bolt of Godly might. Your soul, like a burning bastion against the darkness of the night, sits golden in your breast and on your brow. A golden soul shining bright with untapped potential.

With every step, your movements grow lighter as the trappings of mortal existence fall away. With every step, the hidden bonds once restricting your potential shatter to dust as the Gods themselves take notice of your strength. With every step, the distance you have yet to climb grows ever greater—yet, for all the higher the peak, not once does the thought that it might be insurmountable cross your mind.

Where once your arms could not hope to break the skin of the divine, now your blades wait eagerly to taste Godly blood. Where once you were doomed to stand with the uncountable masses of the faceless past—remembered by only those few to call you kin—now the annals of history stand ready to record all your triumphs and tragedies.

For you are a Hero not only in name, but in truth.

You walk the path of greatness, young Hero, and may your stride grow ever larger.

0~0~0

AN: Congratulations, you are now a Hero!

Good job.

Now you stand ready to meet the challenges standing before you.

No moratorium.

 

[I.F. Ister]

Spoiler: Crafting, Surveillance, and the Thing

[X] Plan Crafting, Surveillance, and the Thing
-[X] Attend The Thing!
--[X] Bring family, have a nice time
--[X] Listen for any interesting gossip
--[X] Meet any newcomers and try to be friendly
-[X] Sacrifice 81 Food for 9 Temporary Hamingja


-[X] [Travel] Surveillance
--[X] Use the box of bees and its bee-spirits to put together a 24/7 spying operation on Dorri, his immediate family, and retainers. Focus lesson trying to breach whatever spells he has up - that will only risk drawing attention and be unlikely to work - and more on building a picture of their movements. They can't ward themselves in public, not easily or completely.
---[X] The plan here is introduce ourselves and negotiate with the bees if possible rather than compelling them.
--[X] We will use Dressed in Rags and mundane Stealth (including enhancing it with shapeshifting), via our fylgja when appropriate, to also surveil Dorri ourselves when it seems unlikely to get us caught, leaving out additional bees in any unusual locations he seems to frequent.
--[X] When bee-based surveillance starts to put together a picture of where he might be meeting Drysalt or what is otherwise the most important place, go in person. Try and record an Experience, as this will be unimpeachable court testimony.

-[X] [Social] (Personal) Spend time with...
--[X] Ingolf, though Kare is likely also along
--[X] The idea here is to try and help him through his fears, specifically, we'd like to start teaching him Campfire and (obviously) also see that he spends time with women and women with magic in particular.
-[X] (Exploration) Go on a walk through...
--[X] The coast!
---[X] (Optional) Send your fylgja in your place (Does not cost an action)

-[X] (Research)
--[X] Take standard precautions when infusing Hugr as best we can
--[X] Give up to 3 Whale Bone each to Sagaseeker and Shadeclaw and see if they like it.
--[X] Get information on Kare Wolf-Seek and, ideally his brother Ingolf –1 Research
--[X] Get information on Eyesteinn – 1 Research
--[X] Study the Latin inscriptions on the Knightly Armor, figure out what they say – 1 Research
--[X] Start learning the Slavic language from the ex-thralls (and teaching them Norse, probably) – 1 Research
--[X] Try very carefully inverting Standstill and see what we get as a general thing rather than the specific Tricks we've gained before – 1 Research
--[X] Check on the spritual ecology of our soulscape, watch how they interact, try and figure out what is missing or would be helpful – 1 Research

0~0~0

Spoiler: Research and Development

Research
0~0~0
Upgrading Hugr Infusion
You have little in the way of difficulty when you infuse your hugr once more.

(You know have 8 Hugr Infusions)
0~0~0
Whale Bones to Sagaseeker and Shadeclaw
"This is a good material, meowther-mine," Sagaseeker purrs with pleasant pleasure as whalebone replaces the wrapped leather of his grip.

Shadeclaw, on the other hand, is quite a bit less pleased, "What manner of creature did you cleave this from, o' Daughter of Fire? I wish to beat it into submission, for no beastie may call themselves greater than the noble Bear!"

0~0~0
Gathering Information on Kare Wolf-Seek
According to stories, gossip, and rumors, Kare Wolf-Seek—eldest son of Hallbjorn Fisher's Son, the son of Ketil Trout and relative to the Kveldulf—is a man who thinks deeply before making any decision. With a head of a wolf on his shoulders, he is a man to watch as he sniffs out opportunity and pounces.

Kare Wolf-Seek is known for having fought and slain Guisnir Hammerstrike in the Battle of Broken Backs. In slaying the enemy champion, he secured victory for the forces of Alfheim over the Geats. Honored by the King of Alfheim, Kare was granted a chest full of silver for his efforts. Future secure, he now searches for purpose in life.

An excellent combatant, it is said that he once fought three Berserkers at the same time and came out with only a few broken bones to show for it while leaving a trio of headless corpses in his wake. With a magic sword said to have been fished from a lake in Jorvik, Kare does battle in mail armor reinforced with the iron scales of an Eastern Beast.

0~0~0
Getting info on Eysteinn Egilsson
According to stories, gossip, and rumors, there is not much known about Eysteinn Egilsson. He is the son of Egil Lunging and seems to be of a more flimsy build than his father.

That is all known about the boy. He has little in the way of renown or great deeds attributed to him.

0~0~0
Studying the Latin inscriptions on the Knightly Armor
The Latin inscriptions on the Knightly Armor seem to be little more than prayers of strength and adaption. They ask the Holy Ghost to intercede and complete the connection between Man and Metal.

The prayers strengthen the growth of Fervor and strength of arm, allowing a Knight to hit harder and regain their power quicker to then hit harder once again.

The prayers, apparently, need to be meditated on while the Knight does combat or else they can't channel their strength through the metal. Which is why, if you're able to disrupt their focus, they can't use their Armor to the fullest extent.

0~0~0
Learning Slavic
You begin to learn Slavic from the ex-thralls at the same time as you teach them Norse.

0~0~0
Trying to Invert Standstill
Inverting Standstill doesn't seem to do much. Inverting hugareida doesn't seem to grant hugareida themselves, nor do they always grant twists, it seems.

0~0~0
Checking on the spiritual ecology of your soul
As you watch and observe spirits both new and old, you can't help but feel like there's something missing. The spirits just sort of sit there, not really interacting in any meaningful way. It's almost as if they need some kind of catalyst. Something to force the interaction.

As you look to the chicken clucking away in your soul, you can't help but get an idea. It's in the vaguest of stages and will require some puzzling out, but perhaps the catalyst is in life?

Material Spirits:
Steinnvaett - Spirit of stone, which helps to look after rocks and stone.

Stalvaett - Spirit of metal, which helps to look after specific types of metal. They appreciate it when metal is cared for properly—such as through polish, oiling, and not allowing it to tarnish or rust. Angering the local stalvaettir can have disastrous consequences on anything made of metal on your property. Pleasing the local stalvaettir can mean that they bless you with bountiful finds of metal.
-Jarnstalvaett - Spirit of Iron Metal, which helps to look after iron.
-Eirstalvaett - Spirit of Copper and Brass and Bronze, which helps to look after copper and brass and bronze.

Vidvaett - Spirit of the wood, which helps to look after specific types of wood. They appreciate it when wood is cared for—such as through polish and lacquer—and not damaged for no reason. Angering the local vidvaettir can have disastrous consequences on anything made of wood on your property. Pleasing the local vidvaettir can mean that they bless you with bountiful finds of the wood that you desire in the shapes that you need.
-Asksvidvaett - Spirit of Ash Wood, which helps to look after wood from ash trees.
-Furuvidvaett - Spirit of Fir Wood, which helps to look after wood from pines and firs.
-Granarvidvaett - Spirit of Spruce Wood, which helps to look after wood from spruces.
-Eikarvidvaett - Spirit of Oak Wood, which helps to look after wood from oaks.
-Almsvidvaett - Spirit of Elm Wood, which helps to look after wood from elms.

0~0~0
Attending the Thing
The local Thing happens, as it always does, in and around a lonely hill topped by an ancient oak tree standing solitary over the landscape. For three weeks, the Thing shall meet in the shadow of the mighty oak. For three weeks, cases would be brought, argued, and judged while business is conducted and friendships are forged on the slopes of the hill.

Your household, for the first time, is in a place where attending this Thing is something you can do as a matter of course. With your farm on as sturdy footing as it now is, you can take the time to attend the Thing and not have to worry about how your farm is doing in your absence. All in all, it is a good thing. Being seen attending a Thing always has positive ripples on your orthstirr.

As is your right as a prominent landowner, the plot of land selected for your household is high on the hill. Cutting away the soil and raising the tent high over the land, you find yourself one of the few allowed this high on the hill. The only other households this high are Halfdan the Dane's family, Dorri Rattlespear and his kin, and Nainn Rotting. The rest of the Hading at large are all at lower levels of prestige, which leaves you shocked for a moment.

Audrikr Fishfighter, who had stopped by your tent to pay his respects, chuckles as he spies the look on your face. "Didn't expect that, eh, sister?" He whistles as he looks out across the people-packed land, "You've gained a lot of renown for your efforts, that much is as true as the sun."

"It's just," you shake your head as Stigmar beams with pride at your side, some of the younger women of the Valley giggling and blushing as they look his way, "I didn't expect to be this well-thought-of, you know?"

"Just one of those things to keep in mind, I suppose," Audrikr shrugs as his wife makes her way over to you. A pretty woman with a slender face, her children take more after their father than her by the looks of things. Two of her children are with her now as a young boy clutching at her skirts while she carries a infant daughter in her arms. Taking notice of his wife's sudden appearance, Audrikr's smile grows as he points her out to you, "Ah, Rodrun, I'm glad you could join us! I've been worrying that Rodveigr would steal you away given the chance."

Rodrun laughs, a sly smirk curling up her face as she rolls her eyes, "Despite my father dearest's wishes, I'm not going back just yet." The story of how Audrikr had won his wife is an oft-repeated story in the Valley, as he'd managed to defeat all four of Rodrun's brothers one after the other before beating their father and winning the right of Rodrun's hand in marriage. Turning to you, Rodrun slips a hand free from holding her daughter as she offers you a hand, "Rodrun Rodveigsdottir is my name. I've heard great things about you, Halla Sunshine, and hope our families can be friends for many years to come."

Nodding, you take her hand with a smile as your children take notice of a new potential friend, "Nice to meet you, Rodrun." A grin plays across your face as Sigurdr tugs at your sleeve, eyes locked to the boy hiding behind Rodrun's skirts, "It seems to me that Sigurdr wants to play with your boy."

"As long as your Sigurdr's careful with Audvik, I don't see any issue with it," Audrikr nods as Rodrun sighs, clearly not overly enthused by the difference in size.

"Well, Siggy?" Your second-eldest son scoffs as you ask, "Is that going to be a problem?"

"Of course not," he rolls his eyes as the light falls across his face in just such a way. "I'm not Asgeirr, after all."

Audvik eyes Sigurdr as he approaches. Pulling away from his mother's skirts, Audvik lifts his chin and stares down his nose at the larger boy, "Your uncle threatened my brother."

Sigurdr shrugs, "Doesn't mean we can't be friends."

Audvik frowns and inclines his head, "I guess so..."

Sigurdr points towards the woodline as he starts down the hill, "Come on, I saw a weird tree on the way over and I wanna check it out."

That manages to capture Audvik's curiosity as he starts after your son, "A weird tree? Weird how?"

"It's got, like," Sigurdr tries to describe the tree with his hands, "a whole bunch of branches and they're all curling inwards."

"Like a bowl?" Audvik adds, showing a glimmer of growing intellect behind his youthful eyes.

"Exactly!" Sigurdr smiles, big and broad, "Weird, huh?"

They peter on out of ear-distance after that, having disappeared into the city of tents propped up on the slopes of the hill. It doesn't take long for the brief silence to be filled by a new voice, one much older and far more contentious than the last.

Faxi Bushybrows—a man who earned his kenning well—stands before you with his arms folded and a defiant Asgeirr in his wake, bloody ball of bronze clutched in his hand. "Your brat beat my sons black and blue, I demand compensation for their injuries!"

Audrikr tilts his head as Stigmar cracks his neck and loosens up his shoulders, "Aren't your boys eight and ten? How'd they lose to a boy of four?"

Faxi's brows twitch, "T-that's beside the point!"

"Well," you begin as you run fingers down your chin, "who started the fight?"

"That doesn't matter!" Faxi's scowl deepens, "What matters is that-"

"They called you a whore," Asgeirr's words are simple, yet powerful all the same, "That you paid spirits with your flesh."

Stigmar looks like he's about to do something stupid, if the way he's pawing at the peace-bonds on his sword are anything to go by, so you'd best make a move before things get even more illegal than they already have. Sighing, you step forward and lift your hands, "I'm sorry for what my son did and offer compensation of sixty silver ounces for your sons' pain. Furthermore, I ask that you teach your sons the proper words to speak of a woman."

In the face of such a generous peace offering—for forty would be fair compensation, let alone sixty—there's little Faxi can do but choke down any protestation at your words. After taking a moment to settle himself, he nods and holds out a hand, "I was worried what the parent of such a son would be like, but your reputation proved truer than I'd thought. I was wrong to doubt your honor, Lady Halla, and I would ask that you keep your money for forgiveness of my sons' words."

"By the looks of things," you respond as you grip his hand and smile, "all accounts of honor have been settled."

Faxi leaves after that, leaving Asgeirr behind and Audrikr to take his place.

"That was well-handled, sister," Audrikr says as he pats you on the shoulder, "I was worried you'd draw iron then and there, but I was wrong to doubt you."

"Thank you, Audrikr," you nod and smile before turning your gaze to Asgeirr, who shuffles on the spot. "Now, Asgeirr..."

"Are you mad at me?" Asgeirr clearly isn't all that eager for a scolding.

"No," you shake your head as Asgeirr blinks in surprise as you reach out and pat him on the head, "you did the right thing. When someone dares speak nid like that on family, you show them just how wrong they are. That is what it means to be a man."

Asgeirr smiles as he nods, hair brushing against your palm, "I understand," blood drips down the bronze sphere in his hand as he grits his teeth into a smile, "I'll split their skulls if they call you that word again!"

...He doesn't know what 'whore' means, does he? All he knew is that it was an insult and that was enough for him to start swinging.

"Try your best not to do it on sacred ground, though," you nod towards the oak tree standing atop the hill, "for such things dishonor the Gods and earns their enmity."

"I will," Asgeirr nods as his eyes slide towards the distance, where Sigurdr and Audvik make their way into the trees, "Can I go play with Siggy?"

Audrikr grimaces as your lips thin, "Well... As long as you promise to not hurt anyone, then alright. Real men keep their word at all costs, understand?"

"Right!" Asgeirr nods, determination in his eyes, "I promise not to hurt Siggy or that other boy!"

"Good job," you smile before sending him off with a pat on the back.

"That boy's gonna be trouble when he's older," Audrikr mutters as Asgeirr wanders off.

"You're not wrong," you reply before inviting Audrikr and his wife inside for some mead, which you had chilled earlier in the day.

0~0~0
Spending time with Ingolf and Kare (Silver-Tongue: 6) 6 Successes
Ingolf sits before you as still as any feature of stone, eyes wide and unblinking as Kare shakes his wolfen head and sighs, "If it were that easy," Kare gestures a claw-like finger at the campfire you're constructing between you and Ingolf, "we'd have cured him of his fears long ago."

"I-I already know c-cam..." Ingolf starts off strong-ish, but quickly stumbles over himself and reverts to fear. He shivers as he swallows, but manages to muster up enough strength to continue, "C-C-Campfire!"

He shrinks in on himself after that, but the effort alone was progress made.

Regardless, he already knows Campfire? But what about his fear of magic? Wouldn't that mean he'd never learn it, or are you missing something here?

...Because hugareida isn't magic, duh!

"Damn," you scowl as you slump against a nearby log-turned-empty bench, "this is harder than I thought!"

Kare snorts as he settles down on a moveable stump, Ingolf shivering by his tree-knot-like knee, "You're still giving it more of a shot than I figured you would," he shrugs as he lays a hand on his brother's shoulder, which soothes some of the shivering, "but I suppose you'll have to think of some other way of solving this little problem of Ingolf's."

You silently nod as a flicker of motion draws your gaze to the side, to where Drifa drags a fallen tree towards her home to serve as firewood. Eyes darting back to Ingolf, you note that they seem to be of similar age.

Perhaps the trick here is to have him make friends with a girl his age?

Maybe, maybe not, either way it's a route to go down!

0~0~0
Exploring the Coast (Hamingja: 20) 20 Successes
As your fylgja flies out across the coastline, soaring high over the farms as they set up for the winter—relying primarily on welcoming gifts to get them through the coming cold—you spy a certain something in the distance.

On a short cape where the waves lap at the shore sits a fair few scattered stacks of smooth stones. Some of the flat stones seem to be piled in a purposeful manner, as if someone were trying to build something or another from them.

Hints of potential magic buzz on the surface of the stones, but there's simply not enough to gain an idea of what's being built here. It does, however, feel like it does when a burl is in use, so perhaps there's some manner of teleportation magic in the mix?

Regardless, this is something to keep an eye on for the future.

0~0~0
Surveillance on Dorri (Human Stealth: 126) 126 Successes. (Owl Stealth: 33) 33 Successes
There's nothing in the bee-box to negotiate with, just a bunch of mindless bee-spirits hollowed out and left with no purpose other than whatever you set for them. It rubs you the wrong way to see spirits undergo such travesty, but there's little you can do for them now—other than put them out of whatever misery they may feel in such a state, of course.

However, there's no reason you shouldn't use them while you can, right? After all, it's not like it's hurting them, right?

'I don't see any problems with it,' Blackhand shrugs as you have your rag-dressed fylgja slip the box underneath Dorri's porch in the dead of night. Nestling the box inside a dust-covered and vine-choked plow, you open the lid and, with a surge of willpower, give the bee-spirits that which you will them do.

The bees buzz in unison before taking off into the night and quickly settling into a routine. Days merge into weeks as you slowly check in on the bees less and less, eventually just shrugging and leaving them to do their thing as you turn your attention to more pressing matters—namely, how to put bows in Eyvor's hair in the way she wants them done. It's one of the hardest things you've ever had to do, putting those damnable bows in her hair. No matter what you do, nothing seems to work!

You eventually have to give up and have Abjorn do it—who, much to your chagrin, deftly ties the bows in a single motion with his stupidly dexterous fingers, the handsome bastard! However, as Eyvor cheers and thanks her father profusely, you feel a certain tugging on the old spiritual string. Following the connection, you find yourself face-to-face with a bee-spirit bearing news.

Well, well, well, it seems that Dorri's slipping out from a feast all on his lonesome. Something tells you that this is the opportunity you've been waiting for, so you climb to your feet and grab a cloak from the doorway.

"Where are you going?" Abjorn's voice stops you in your tracks, so focused on Dorri you forgot all about his presence.

"Oh, I..." While your mouth gives some excuse of 'needing a breath of fresh air', which serves well enough for your children's ears, your eyes communicate the real reason, "I suspect that Dorri's making contact with Drysalt and I'm going to gather evidence."

Abjorn frowns as Eyvor runs around the room with a rather grumpy Hallbjorn on her back, the bows in her hair flowing in her wake as she laughs with glee, "Stay safe, please."

"I'll try my best," that's a non-answer and you both know it, but this is a risk you *have* to take. Letting an opportunity like this slip through your fingers...? It's unacceptable, is what it is.

Abjorn swallows and sighs, saying nothing more as he gently plucks a slipping Hallbjorn from Eyvor's shoulders. Taking a deep breath, you nod and open the door, stepping out into the swirls of snowflakes falling from the darkened skies.

Stepping clear of the house, you bend slightly at the knees before joining with the wind-riding birds on blazing wings of crimson flame.

It takes no time at all to cross the distance, but you'll have to make the rest of the way on foot to not alert Dorri to your presence. Setting down a fair ways away, you wrap the cloak around your shoulders as you press on through the falling snow and empty trees. Winter is upon you, that much is certain, and it looks like this year's winter will be a long one.

Following the bee-spirit-left trail, you pass quickly through the trees as you quickly close the gap and draw near to the man that once held your loyalty. Barely even breathing, you press tight against a tree trunk as a cloak-bound Dorri scowls through the trees, each step uncertain like he doesn't know the path he's taking. He's not happy to be out at this hour, so why is he? Could Drysalt have demanded his presence? A scarf trails off his shoulders as he passes beyond your field of view, forcing you to leave your spot to follow.

Like a ghost, you trail in Dorri's wake as you pass through the trees with nary a noise for every step. The world seems to wait with bated breath as Dorri comes to a stop before a dead, hollowed-out tree. A carved-out knot serves as a window into the inky darkness of the depths, leaving you uncertain of what lies within.

Surrounded by swirling snow, Dorri glances over his shoulder before starting to speak—a shoulder opposite from where you crouch in the shadows of the forest, "I'm here, not that I know why."

A voice like moss-covered rocks creaks from the tree hollow as its owner rasps and wheezes, "Like the well-trained dog, you've come when your master bade. You've come far since we first met, Dorri-called-Rattlespear."

Dorri bites back a sharp retort as he sighs, "Get to the point, Drysalt. Have you come up with a solution to the 'problem' or not?"

"Come now, Dorri," Drysalt's laugh is like an echo cut short, "surely a girl like her is no problem for one such as you? Do you really need my help?"

Dorri makes a horrid sound in the back of his throat, "You know the answer to that already. It's not her strength that's the problem."

"Oh I know full-well the problem you have," though you can't see the smile on Drysalt's face, you know it's there all the same, "I just want to hear it from your lips."

"Fine." Dorri growls as he grits his teeth, the graybeard looking to all the world like a scolded puppy being put through remedial training. "I need your help," he spits the words out like they're poison, "There, are you happy?"

Drysalt's chuckles fall like leaden stones in a lake, "Why ask questions you already know the answers to? Don't answer that," Dorri's teeth snap shut as he scowls, "it's rhetorical."

Hissing through grinding teeth, Dorri's eyes spark with hatred as he forces himself to be as polite as he can, "The solution to our problem, then?"

"On this day, in three years' time, she will be dead," Drysalt's words fill your soul with fear as you struggle to stay silent, your curiosity burning a hole in your chest, "You need not worry how the deed will be done, just that it will be."

"That's not soon enough!" Dorri scowls, fists creaking from how tight he's balled them.

"It's only what a failure like you deserves," Drysalt retorts with clear glee as Dorri flinches, "You'd do well to remember who, exactly, it is you speak to, Dorri-called-Rattlespear. It was I who revealed the secrets of the Brazen Heartleaf to you. It was I who taught you the steps of the brew. It was I who hid your deeds from the world."

"And you've held that over my head for a long time, Drysa-" A feigned yawn cuts Dorri off, his jaw dropping in astonishment.

"I tire of your inanities, Dorri-called-Rattlespear," Drysalt yawns once again. If you could see him, he'd probably even be stretching his arms over his head, "You'd best leave before I remember my strength."

Taking the dismissal for what it is, Dorri shuts his mouth, pivots on the spot, and leaves with his shoulders in a hunch. Conversation over with, you prepare to leave in turn before that voice starts up again.

"Don't think your presence went unnoticed, Halla-called-Sunshine," sweat drips down your neck as Drysalt calls you by name, "It has been far too long since a true Hero has met their end by my fists and, in recognition for how special this really is for me, I offer you my advise." An evil grin spreads in the darkness as Drysalt's parting words ring in your ears, "Make time for kin and kith and be sure to memorize their faces. After all," that foul smirk fades away into nothing as he leaves you with his final words, "I'd hate for you to have nothing to remember them by."

And just like that, the presence is gone and you can breathe again.

'What a bastard,' Blackhand grumbles, his own voice bearing a slight shiver, 'You'd better kick his ass, Halla, or else I'll be very cross with you.'

Regardless, you still managed to capture the Experience of that whole conversation in your soul, despite how much its presence seems to cause your soul to ache.

0~0~0
Personal (Pick 2/3, if no Exploration is picked. 1 Free Social):
[ ] (Here, Kitty-Kitty) Attempt to make friends with the skogtatt
-[ ] (Write in) How do you go about this?
[ ] (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 someone to buy something for you (Write in)
[ ] (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... (0 Left)
-[ ] The Witch... even though she's dead
-[ ] Asvir!
-[ ] 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)
-[ ] The hills!
--[ ] (Optional) Send your fylgja in your place (Does not cost an action)
--[ ] (Optional) Range further from your home
-[ ] The coast!
--[ ] (Optional) Try and catch whoever it is
--[ ] (Optional) Send your fylgja in your place (Does not cost an action)
0~0~0
Training: You have 95 XP to spend as you see fit.
[ ] (Research) Try to figure out how things work (Write in)
[ ] (Drifa) Teach Drifa some of your tricks (Write in)
[ ] (Blackhand) Try to develop old/train new hugareida tricks (Write in)
[ ] (Training) Hamr (511 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 (512 XP to rank up)
-[ ] (Optional) Train a fylgja skill or trick (Write in)
0~0~0

Spoiler: Optionals

Orthstirr Available: 1603
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: 17/17
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 223 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)

0~0~0

AN: I had a few rough patches, but I managed to get this one out!

25-minute moratorium.