Prologue: A Not So Warm Welcome

[Eanwulf]

MOOD MUSIC

Busying yourself in the act of disembarking Helgi's ship, the night air is suddenly filled with an eerie silence. Though the skies above you now appear to have returned to their normal state, the night air is filled with a strong sense of foreboding and tension; an overwhelming sensation, nearly palatable.

As the silence falls upon your senses, the distinct crackling sounds of a harpsichord are then heard coming from somewhere nearby. The sounds themselves are a hollow melody that resonates across the docks. As for the tune itself, it is quite confusing; intertwining the soothing sounds of a loving mother's lullaby with those of a mourner's tale of tragic loss.

The melody seems to be coming from a lone male figure seated upon the docks and for a time, you are lost in the emotional impact of the song.

[Olligarchy]

Remembering the cold nights from his previous life, Kæder plucks at his kantele, playing the ancient melody that has been passed from parent to child as long as the instrument itself has existed, and whilst he does not utter the spoken rhyme of the song itself, he swallows as he remembers the words that are meant to go with the music.

Even as he plays, his cool blue gaze studies the disembarking Norsemen, especially the older appearing nobleman whom he presumes to be the leader of the lot.

Whilst his neck carries the telltale chain of a bondsman, thrall and slave, his gaze is a challenging one, looking the assembled Norse warriors straight in the eye and clearly waiting for something. The man himself does not look like much though. Roughly of average height for a Norseman, he has a messy dirty blonde hair and beard that almost seem to merge with the rough furs and leathers of his clothing.

[Wbweather]

At the sound of the music being played, Thorgrod looks up to see what appears to be a slave observing the group while his hands pluck the notes from the harp as if acting on their own accord. He meets the fellows cold stare with his own. The two men seem to be trying to read the others thoughts. Whether a slave or not, there is a singular defiance and strength of will in the man with the harp. He appears unique among the groveling, fearful villagers.

"Hail friend," Thorgrod calls out to him, "An interesting tune with which to greet newcomers." Even the skies seem placated by your strumming."

[Muskrat]

Ulfr silently disembarks. He wonders about the thrall, thinking him daring to look a noble like Thorgrod in the eye. Ulfr takes an immediate liking to the thrall for this and makes eye contact with him, briefly grinning, before his face resumes its usual cold facade. "Yes, a fine tune. Have you been sent by Jarl Yngvar to take us to him?"

[Hayabusa]

Skulmdal stands beside his sister with a sneer on his face but as Sylvi had said he holds his tongue back a bit. However, his stance and expression are still one of challenge and disdain. One hand on his hip, the other on the hilt of the large sword he rests against his shoulder and watches the villagers and just barely follows the conversation going on. And later he follows the rest of his comrades.

One of the tallest of his company, he keeps his blonde hair tied back and his beard full. He merely grunts as anyone compliments the musician. "Why not take a bit of warm goat milk, lie back and sleep for a bit?" He suggests, not able to keep his crude manners to himself.

[TetNak]

Sylvi nudges Skulmdal when he makes his comment. "Listen," she says under her breath. "Listen and learn." She takes a step forward, spear in hand, "Otherwise it is quite the chance a skald would come to greet us."

The shield maiden does not trust the man. His arrival is too convenient unless directed by the jarl to fetch them. Even then, she wonders what low account they must be held if a thrall is the person chosen to greet them.

[Olligarchy]

Plucking at his harp for a moment longer, Kæder finally stops... leaving the port in an almost unnatural silence before he responds to the assembled men and women, his gaze mostly focused on the older appearing noble,"Hail indeed travelers. Whilst I cannot make claims on account of the Sky and the Clouds, I may indeed be the escort to the Jarl's Halls. Chambers have been made ready for your arrival, and mead and meat will flow aplenty if you so wish it... afore the Jarl calls you to his presence to clear your purpose."

Picking himself up from the log and swiping the dirt from his lap, Kæder offers a small bow to the group and motions for them to follow him down the road leading to the Jarl's Halls.

Now that he has spoken, it becomes clear that the mans accent seems more than a little foreign, holding an almost song like smooth quality not unlike the rougher Norse vowels spoken; and whilst there is not a fault to be found within his spoken tongue, it is clear he likely speaks another tongue on his own time.

[Wbweather]

Thorgrod nods approvingly at the invitation. He notes the accent of the thrall. Finnish if he's not mistaken. He thinks of his own fate as in many ways he too has come to serve a jarl after being sent from his true home. Perhaps this is also a reason he agreed to this adventure, to remind himself that he was still a bondi and not a thrall. He grabs his gear, slings his pack over his shoulder and says to the says to the fellow, "Lead on then good fellow."

[Muskrat]

Ulfr nods at Thorgrod's words and prepares to follow the thrall. It is good to stretch his legs after so long in the boat and he is not eager to rest--he has been still far too long and would prefer to do something.

[TetNak]

Sylvi watches with a great deal of displeasure. How did the jarl know they had arrived? If vexed her. "We just made land," she calls out, "How does the jarl know we've come so soon to send you here?" She leans on her spear as she awaits the thrall's reply.