Anya simply looks scornfully ay Kurn as if to suggest that the idea that she would not finish the task simply because of risk or danger to be a ridiculous one.
Then, recalling something, Anya moves over to Breda and asks her directly "and so? What was it you wish to meet with me about?"
Sawrik picks up the stones one by one and pops them in the bag. "Eight stones. Don't usually see that many. Mostly only three or four."
Ragnar shrugs.
"Hnnn. Muhjuhk."He looks between Sawrik, Tavnia, Helga, Stefnir and Kurn.
"Whuh's nuhckst, nuh thuht wuh're uhll-uhs?"
Translation:
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"Next is a small feast of welcome for you. Lord Mercik wishes for you and the villagers to get to know one and other better. Also our village needs something to lift their spirits."
Indeed Sawrik then wanders up to Breda and her guards. "Make those preparations we discussed earlier. Go to the stores and get everyone in the hall for a feast." He seems proud of himself.
Breda looks at Anya, "come with me for a walk, we can talk freely on the way to the cold store."
She orders two of the door guards to spread the word to the village.
Anya (if she accompanies Breda)
Tavnia takes over the roll of host in a dull and dry way. He gets the two sevring girls to provide more cavemead and start roasting the half of boar. "Music, send for the apothecary Fegil and she old harp."
Lord Mercik sits on high and watches.
Anya to Breda
The barbarian woman unconsciously tightens her grip on her spear and distances herself a foot or two more from Breda but as she speaks there is no guilt or fear in her voice, only self-justified entitlement
"One might say that I found it. Found ity in a place where it was not serving the purpose for which it was created and where there were none deserving enough to wield it"
She then says no more and simply waits for Breda's response. Although she aware of her muscles tensing in readiness for combat
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Breda to Anya
Soon whole families start trickling into the Hall, mothers bring their children. Many older folks, tough and hoary old fisherfolk join them too.
Fegil, a wizened old crone, half-blind and toothless is brought forwards with her wooden harp. She starts playing sea shanties and various odes to the sea, cackling where the words should be.
Sawrik starts the clapping and soon everyone joins in.
Helga joins in the clapping and celebration as enthusiastically as the rest, but when the elderly lady pauses for breath she will offer to play and sing herself.
Perform (strings - harp):
Perform (sing):
Helga will launch into a classic old saga (something along the lines of Beowulf).
Kurn relaxes abit during the evening and has an ale, but quietly and slowly takes takes one to the Dwarf prisoner . "Here, I don't like to see a prisoner of war treated this way" he says quietly. Kurn will hold the flagon so the Dwarf can drink.
Stefnir tired from the journey, and thankful for the hospitality, Stefnir relaxes for the first time in days, and actually finds himself tapping his foot to one of the tunes, bringing back childhood memories long repressed.
If the opportunity presents itself he will take an opportunity to apologize to the young lord for his earlier outburst.
Ragnar joins the clapping but mostly keeps to himself, his throat sore from trying to talk.
Ari stays out of the way, keeping in any shadows he can find. He smiles to himself watching the children dancing and clapping. He will eat but drink little of anything that will get him drunk.
Anya to Breda
Hi all. This is just to let you know that FW is in hospital and won't be home until at least Tuesday, as he had to have his appendix taken out.
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Helga joins in the clapping and celebration as enthusiastically as the rest, but when the elderly lady pauses for breath she will offer to play and sing herself.
Perform (strings - harp): 1d20+7+2
Perform (sing): 1d20+11Helga will launch into a classic old saga (something along the lines of Beowulf).
This is what the villagers needed. The Stuvoy fisherfolk, guards and their leaders lose themselves in the entertainment and the saga is met with rapturous applause. Especially from the children. There are cries for more , even from the crone-like apothecary.
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Kurn relaxes abit during the evening and has an ale, but quietly and slowly takes takes one to the Dwarf prisoner . "Here, I don't like to see a prisoner of war treated this way" he says quietly. Kurn will hold the flagon so the Dwarf can drink.
The dwarf lets Kurn get close then whispers quietly while the singing muffles his words.
Kurn
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Stefnir tired from the journey, and thankful for the hospitality, Stefnir relaxes for the first time in days, and actually finds himself tappi.....
...an opportunity to apologize to the young lord for his earlier outburst.
Mercik remains aloof on his high chair but after a while he is left alone by Sawrik and Tavnia, thanks to the distraction of food and Helga's performances.
When Stefnir apologises, the boy looks at him askance and eventually clears his throat to tell the druid that his father expected people to speak their minds.
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Ragnar joins the clapping but mostly keeps to himself, his throat sore from trying to talk.
Tavnia finds a moment to speak with Ragnar and confirms that the woods around do have trollborn in them, vicious children of the giants but their blood when drunk should help with healing his throat. Same with their hearts for making potions of strength, healing and regeneration.
There is a family of them somewhere in the pines.
Stefnir tired from the journey, and thankful for the hospitality, Stefnir relaxes for the first time in days, and actually finds himself tappi.....
...an opportunity to apologize to the young lord for his earlier outburst.
Mercik remains aloof on his high chair but after a while he is left alone by Sawrik and Tavnia, thanks to the distraction of food and Helga's performances.
When Stefnir apologises, the boy looks at him askance and eventually clears his throat to tell the druid that his father expected people to speak their minds.
"Ah"...then with a small smile and half bow..."It is obvious he has trained you well to be a wise leader". "Should you wish to discuss anything...please feel free to summon me at your convenience". Stefnir then returns to enjoying the festivities.
Ragnar joins the clapping but mostly keeps to himself, his throat sore from trying to talk.Tavnia finds a moment to speak with Ragnar and confirms that the woods around do have trollborn in them, vicious children of the giants but their blood when drunk should help with healing his throat. Same with their hearts for making potions of strength, healing and regeneration.
There is a family of them somewhere in the pines.
Ragnar nods.
"Duh thuhs truhlls uvuh uhttuhck Stuhvuh? Thungk yuh fuh th' uhnfuhmushuhn."Translation:
Helga bows low to the people, and is encouraged to sing another fable - the tale of Ragnar Hairy-Trousers and the Great Wyrm (yes, there really is a Nordic saga called something like that).
Perform (harp):
Perform (sing):
Perception:
Anya follows Breda in and is both surprised and impressed once again at her little sister's ability to make people warm to her while entertaining them all the while. A small smile on her face the barbarian girl partakes generously of the food and drink but otherwise remains quiet and keeps more to herself.
Unconsciously she finds herself drifting near Ari but offers no interaction with him other than a wink. Her withdrawn position allows her a wider and undistracted view though and so she does happen to catch the interaction between Kurn and the Dwarf and continues watching the pair curiously
Kurn relaxes abit during the evening and has an ale, but quietly and slowly takes takes one to the Dwarf prisoner . "Here, I don't like to see a prisoner of war treated this way" he says quietly. Kurn will hold the flagon so the Dwarf can drink.
The dwarf lets Kurn get close then whispers quietly while the singing muffles his words.
Kurn
** spoiler omitted **
FW
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The dwarf takes a moment to glug down some mead then grins through blackened teeth at Kurn.
As the evening progresses Helga develops a pack of children and their mothers around her. The little girls Gunalis and her sister, Marli, take a particular shine to her. They make sure her cup and plate are full.
Before Stefnir takes leave of the Lord boy, he asks the druid, "you need to decide how you will help us with food and fuel for the coming winter. The others did not say it but Votagor will not stand idle when he hears that you help us. Will you run when he comes with his raiders?"
Later on near the end of the festivities, a slightly weaving Anya finds a spot opposite Ari and Anya. "I intend to lead the Spears of Stuvoy and I have a test for you warriors to see if you are worthy. Can one of you arm-wrestle me? and win?" The gilr lifts up a brawny arm, although nothing in the league of Ari's brute strength.
Tavnia shakes his head at Ragnar, "no they are woodland folk."
Ragnar nods.
"Uh suhvuhs tuh Stuhvuh shuhld cuhm fuhst, buh whuhn thuhngs uh buhttuh huh, uh muh huhv tuh huhn' thuhm duhn. Whuh cuhn 'ou tuhll muh uhbuht thuhs buhn-duhts, thuhs Vuhtuhguh?"Translation:
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Tavnia takes a long drink of his mead and wipes the drips from his beard, taking time to give Ragnar a proper answer.
"Votagor has always been a raider. Unluckily he was away across the Glacial Sea when the call to war came. Since his return he has gathered several more ships stolen from the villages and ports along the west coast. Every place has lost young men and boys to crew those ships this year. But no one will face Votagor. He has a foul temper and poor reputation for dealing with us, especially us druids. If he comes here tomorrow he will want you to join his fleet or kill you as a threat. Foul."
Helga takes a break to ease her fingers and cool her throat with a cup of mead, mingling with the townsfolk and keeping an ear open. She drifts over to Tavnia close enough over overhear what is said. In her mind a plan forms slowly.
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One by one the families start to trickle out of the hall when Helga takes a break. The children being taken home by their mothers although several of the older villagers and guards stay on later.
Tavnia gets up too and bids goodnight to Lord Mercik before heading towards the double doors. Sawrik smiles as the man leaves, smiles at Helga with one eye crinkling up, "not a party animal, our druid. More of a coin counter and tax collector is our Tavnia Goldfingers."
Breda puts one hand up and challenges Ari and Anya.
"Aye, you have many problems, friend Sawrik, and so do the surrounding villages. A prate off your coast, a feud with dwarves inland, villages that cannot or will not pay their tribute north and south and your menfolk gone. It strikes me that we must be clever as well as brave to deal with them all ... I have some ideas, though. Would you hear them? I cannot assure they will be pleasant to your ears, though," Helga speaks seriously. "My companions too may have some thoughts on this."
"Perhaps we should gift the Albatross to this Voltagor". "That might solve two problems at once", Stefnir suggests with a smile.
FW
Kurn moves slowly away from the Dwarf and moves toward the door with an ale. Some fresh air and time to think are required.
"Perhaps we should gift the Albatross to this Voltagor. That might solve two problems at once"
"So I thought, but by the sound of things he would insist on a crew. I thought of planting stakes in the shallows by the beach, that would force him to moor on the quay, and there his numbers would mean little. Or we could send the Albatross at him as a fire-boat."
More than a little into the drink herself it takes Anya a moment to pull herself away from her observation of Kurn and the dwarf and refocus on Breda and her challange.
Once she does the her eyes light up in warrior spirit and she answers with a fierce grin to take som$e of the sting out of her words
"Aye wench I'll take you on! Long as you don't mind being embarrased in front of your men that is"
Then with one long sweep of her arm Anya clears a table sending everything on it crashing to the floor. Sitting without a care or even notice to the mess she made and puts up her arm in the ready position and looks to the challanger
Rolls
"Perhaps we should gift the Albatross to this Voltagor. That might solve two problems at once""So I thought, but by the sound of things he would insist on a crew. I thought of planting stakes in the shallows by the beach, that would force him to moor on the quay, and there his numbers would mean little. Or we could send the Albatross at him as a fire-boat."
"Wuh buhttuh nuh wuht: thuht spuhruht cuhld kuhll Kuhn whuhll wuh sluhp. Huh muhnuh uhppuhtuhnuhtuhs wuhll uht guht whuhll wuh truh suhm cluhvuh pluhn?"
Translation:
Ari waits looking at both opponents trying to gather any small tips and tactics. He will wait for his chance to play the game if a suitable opponent challenges him.
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Breda grabs Anya's hand, ignoring the crashing crockery and gives it all she has got.
The Kreig woman gets in quick and wins the first bout, smashing Anya's knuckles into the table, but that only gets the baresark mad and she proceeds to do the same back, once with each arm, winning the match.
Breda sucks on her bruised knuckles and grins at Anya offering her a horn of mead in comradery.
Ari shouts,"Anya fancy your chances with me, I may give you a better match"
Jorgen lurks in the background observing the activities and interactions. He is highly aware that he is not the most personable of individuals so tries to remain the silent observer in hopes of picking up vluable information.