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Volund

Volund is the leader of the Alfar who inhabit Iskjerne Bay.

0 · 454 views · located in Iskjerne Bay

a character in “The Multiverse”, as played by Ivar the Boneless

Groups

The Empyrean Norsemen have a well established space-faring kingdom on an isolated island in the Empyrean High Seas, originating on planet Gaia in the Milky Way and waving a dragon banner.

Description

Volund is an elvish ruler and the leader of the Iskjerne Ljosalfar, a faction of light elves known for their nature magic, their runecraft, their flying winged horses, and the ability to understand animal-speak. Volund excels at magical elvish craftsmanship, tinkers and inventions. But like most elves he also is skilled in archery and melee, especially in close quarters bow-fighting. He's very good with a curved knife or dagger, having superb eyesight and a strong sense of hearing. Volund can shapeshift into a fox and sprint at cheetah speed. He can also see in the dark as easily as during the daylight. He is ageless and immortal, unless poisoned by a magical blade or decapitated by a dwarven axe. Volund has an excellent center of balance and the ability to do parkour or acrobatics. Besides the normal human-sized elves, Volund also is accompanied by tiny winged magical faefolk who act as his servants. He is also skilled in making magical potions, some for causing harm, but mostly for healing and medicine.

So begins...

Volund's Story

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Livia Caesarius Character Portrait: Iskjerne Vikings Character Portrait: The Svinfylking Character Portrait: The Ljosalfar Character Portrait: The Berserkers Character Portrait: Hrafn-Floki
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As the small contingent of Argosians and Iskjerne Bay's new Great Heathen Army stood in formations overlooking a small white plain covered in frozen grass and snow, Ivar the Boneless watched silently, leaning forward over his war chariot while folding his arms and resting his elbows. As the Argosian soldiers opened up, and Livia stepped forward, removing her silver and gold helmet, Ivar the Boneless gazed into her eyes, which were exactly the same as his.

"What color are my eyes?"

Ivar the Boneless calmly asked his troops. Bjorn Ironside would turn to look over his shoulder, with a confused look on his face. "What?" he raised an eyebrow at the sudden irrelevant question. "What color are my eyes?" insisted Ivar, as he kept his gaze on Livia, staring down at her from the top of the raised earth. Bjorn would glance up at Ivar before looking back at the praetorians. "Your eyes are bright blue," responded Bjorn, as a smile formed upon Ivar's lips. "Good," he replied. "What's it matter?" Bjorn inquired, still looking at the Argosian guards. "Father said that if my eyes were red, that I was in danger of breaking a bone" Ivar the Boneless said before lightly fwipping the reigns and riding his chariot forward. The vikings would move aside as Prince Ivar rode out to the front of the shield wall to get a closer look at the woman with the auburn flowing hair. Livia was holding her helmet under her arm.

Lagertha watched quietly from behind the shield wall, her pastel blue dress also flowing with the cold chilly breeze as she kept a grip on her spear. It was a long wooden spear with a metal spade-shaped spear head, having a spike on one side and a hook on the other. In her other hand, she held a greenish blue linden round shield with a conical pointed round metal boss at its centre. The shield had a black owl painted on the front in some elaborate Jellinge style tribal design, and she gripped the metal boss from the handle on its backside with additional support from the two leather straps which went around her arm when she needed to reposition herself. Bjorn would spit on the ground beside him, gripping his large bearded axe with both hands as Livia approached.

"Salve." Livia said, inclining her head respectfully. The berserkers and shield-maidens would glance at one another briefly, unsure of what Livia had said, for she was using a different lingo, albeit in their own Nordic language.

"I am Livia, first Legata of the Caesarian Legion, of the Argosian Empire. I bid you fair greetings, and good fortune." The Legata said, looking back up towards Ivar's chariot. Her words translated by the spell into fluent words the Vikings could understand in their own native tongues, yet she was also using a lingo that the Vikings were not familiar with. They had no concept of a Legata, or a Legion, but most of what Livia was saying, Ivar and his vikings understood.

"I beg your leave, and safe passage into your settlement so that I may retrieve one of our sisters who has fallen in battle, so that she may be returned to her people for an honorable burial, in accordance with their traditions. I humbly apologize for the intrusion, I did not expect this place to be inhabited." Livia added, keeping her gaze lowered as a sign of respect, and to display that she was not a threat.

Ivar the Boneless had suddenly lost his lust for battle, and was now just staring blankly at the beautiful older woman in front of him. Bjorn Ironside glanced down at his mother, Lagertha, who stood still in thought. "It could be a trap," Bjorn leaned over and whispered quietly into his mother's ear. Lagertha nodded quietly before stepping forward.

"Greetings and blessings First Legata, I am Queen Lagertha," she said as she gestured to her son and to her son-in-law. "These are the sons of King Ragnar, known as Bjorn and Ivar" she included. Ivar brought three fingers to his forehead and respectfully saluted Livia, nodding slightly with a smirk. Bjorn just stood there silently.

"We were not expecting an errand in this trying weather, we thought you might have been raiders. Our village will be quite gladdened to accomodate you and your company. Our fires will keep you warm. But you can not stay too long. We do not have much space in the great hall at the moment. Our settlement is currently undergoing construction," Lagertha informed her, looking back at her son.

Bjorn Ironside nodded, then waved all of his berserkers back to their stations. As the bear-skinned warriors walked away, Lagertha ordered her shield-maidens to part ways so that Livia and her company could pass.

"I am Ivar the Boneless," Ivar commented as he rode up next to Livia, obviously boasting about himself. He smiled down to her, admiring Livia's beauty and her fancy armor. Lagertha and her shield-maidens would wait patiently for them to join the vikings back to the innangard.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Livia Caesarius Character Portrait: Yoko Kayabuki Character Portrait: Sigurd Hring Character Portrait: Seno Miyagi Character Portrait: Iskjerne Vikings Character Portrait: Uhtred the Godless
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The tense moment was slowly beginning to fleet away, as each Argosian praetorian maintained his position with an almost precision like demeanor. None of them showed any expression, they were faceless legionaries that formed a cohesive contubernia. They moved only with orders from either Livia herself, or their Decanus.

Livia's eyes caught the cripple on the chariot, and like his, hers were a piercing blue, but they were more than that, they were the eyes of a woman who knew nothing but war, of a woman who had been fighting since she was a child, and she had the scars, hidden under the many layers of hide, armor, and fabric to prove it. She looked up to Ivar, her gaze meeting his.

Livia then directed her gaze over to Queen Lagertha, as she stepped forward before slowly getting on one knee before the Queen, it was an act of respect, out of deference to the sovereign of a foreign land. Inclining her head in a respectful bow, she returned to her feet. "I am Honored, Your Majesty." She returned Ivar's salute with one of her own, bringing her right hand into a fist, across her chest.

With one simple gesture, the Praetorians relaxed in unison, letting their shields move to their sides, they split up some, but remained in formation. The Decanus called out, and the Praetorians began to move forward, with purpose, but not so suddenly that they would spook anyone.

"These men are my Praetorian Guard, I hand selected them for their loyalty, and their prowess in combat, while we are guests of your settlement, they are at your disposal should you require their aid." Livia said, nodding back to the Praetorians. "And I assure you, once we have retrieved our fallen charge, we will vacate your settlement in peace, and with all due haste." The Legata replied, gesturing to one of the servants with two fingers, he nodded, and reached into one of the leather pouches belonging to the pack mule.

He produced a glass bottle from the pack mule, and with his head held low, he passed the bottle to Livia, and she uncorked the bottle, and took the first drink to show her new friends that the whatever it was, was not poison. Purple liquid dripped slightly from the corner of her mouth, as she wiped the edge of her mouth clean. She offered the bottle first to Lagertha, and then Bjorn and Ivar. If they took a drink, they would find it sweet, much like mead, but made from dark grapes rather than honey.

When Ivar rode up next to her, and introduced himself as she began to walk towards the Settlement, her Praetorians behind her, Livia offered him a soft smile. "Ivar the Boneless, you may call me Livia." Livia said, as she unfurled a small laminated map. Strange symbols adorned the edges of the map, and labeled notable regions of northern Ellaria. The map looked like a picture taken from high above.

There were red symbols that were unique, they highlighted a specific spot in the settlement, where Kayabuki had fallen.

"The city looks like it will be grand." The Legata commented. The confused looks on the Viking's faces with some of her words were not lost on her either, so she tried to explain to Ivar as he rode next to her.

"A Legatus is what you would call a war chief, or a General, I serve my Emperor, my King, in charge of his armies." Livia explained. "These men are my Praetorian Guard, skilled warriors who dedicate their lives to their king.

While they were walking, the Decanus caught up to them. "Domine, the air is frigid, and the ground frozen solid, it will take at least a day of digging to recover the body, depending on how deeply she is buried."

Livia nodded. "All the more opportunity to get to know our new friends?" She said to the Decanus, his feathered helmet fluttering in the frigid cold.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Livia Caesarius Character Portrait: Uhtred the Godless Character Portrait: Harald Fairhair Character Portrait: Bjorn Ironside Character Portrait: Ivar the Boneless Character Portrait: Lagertha
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The tense moment was slowly beginning to fleet away, as each Argosian praetorian maintained his position with an almost precision like demeanor. None of them showed any expression, they were faceless legionaries that formed a cohesive contubernia. They moved only with orders from either Livia herself, or their Decanus.

Prince Ivar the Boneless seemed to barely notice the well-trained Praetorian Guard, showing almost no interest in them at all. Bjorn Ironside was still standing by the newly constructed outer wall, watching quietly and cautiously as his berserkers withdrew back to their posts. He took a silent mental note of how the Argosian legionaries marched, spoke and dressed. He was quite curious about them. Livia would glance at Prince Ivar, and for a brief moment he thought they had made a connection.

Livia then directed her gaze over to Queen Lagertha, as she stepped forward before slowly getting on one knee before the Queen, as an act of respect. This made Ivar snarl silently, his eyes narrowing in on his mother-in-law Lagertha for a second with utter hatred and contempt. Or was it jealously? Lagertha furrowed her brows, completely confused as to why Livia would take a knee. It was a custom the vikings were not used to, but she understood that it was a sign of respect, and stood there quietly waiting for her to rise.

"I am Honored, Your Majesty." Livia said before looking again at the crippled war leader. She returned Ivar's salute with one of her own, bringing her right hand into a fist, across her chest. Ivar the Boneless smiled quietly, concealing the fact that he was now mildly offended. Ivar would turn around and wave for his equestrians to stand down. The hestahars on horseback would nod, casually turning their horses around and withdrawing back to the newly built stables.

"These men are my Praetorian Guard, I hand selected them for their loyalty, and their prowess in combat, while we are guests of your settlement, they are at your disposal should you require their aid." Livia said, nodding back to the praetorians. "And I assure you, once we have retrieved our fallen charge, we will vacate your settlement in peace, and with all due haste." The Legata assured, gesturing to one of the servants with two fingers. He nodded, and reached into one of the leather pouches belonging to the pack mule.

Lagertha would hand her shield and spear over to one of her fellow shield-maidens, nodding to her before approaching Livia and standing in front of her. Lagertha still had her sword sheathed at her side, but seemed quite calm and uneager to use it as she placed a hand on the side of Ivar's war chariot, her fingers trailing gently over the intricate metal designs as she passed him by and approached the legata. Ivar and Bjorn just watched silently. "Praetorians you say. A fine guard indeed. I'm sure their presence at our settlement will be much appreciated." Queen Lagertha smiled softly, her northern accent showing mildly as she turned her attention first to the Praetorians, then to Livia's servant. Her expression was warm, motherly and un-threatening.

Livia's servant soon produced a glass bottle from the pack mule, and with his head held low, he passed the bottle to Livia, and she uncorked the bottle, and took the first drink to show her new friends that the whatever it was, was not poison. Purple liquid dripped slightly from the corner of her mouth, as she wiped the edge of her mouth clean. She offered the bottle first to Lagertha, and then Bjorn and Ivar. If they took a drink, they would find it sweet, much like mead, but made from dark grapes rather than honey.

Lagertha smiled again, nodding slightly as she was offered the bottle of wine. Ivar the Boneless watched with discontent as the shield-maiden took a swig of the purplish red sustenance, before handing it back. "Mmm," she groaned, obviously liking the taste of it. But as Livia then tried to offer the bottle to Bjorn Ironside, she was suddenly met with a different reaction. Bjorn did not approach Livia, or say anything. He just folded his arms quietly, still holding his axe, and spat on the ground without moving. He apparently had no interest in the wine at all, so Livia then offered the bottle to Ivar instead. Prince Ivar would approach Livia, taking the bottle in both hands and looking at it. He would take a swig before handing the bottle back to Livia and wiping his mouth on his sleeve. He scrunched his eyebrows, unsure of the new taste in his mouth, but seemed more curious than displeased.

When Ivar rode up next to her, and introduced himself as she began to walk towards the Settlement, her Praetorians behind her, Livia offered him a soft smile. "Ivar the Boneless, you may call me Livia." Livia said, as she unfurled a small laminated map. Strange symbols adorned the edges of the map, and labeled notable regions of northern Ellaria. The map looked like a picture taken from high above. Ivar furrowed his brows again, looking down at the map as their small group walked through the open aisle created by two flanks of shield-maidens and their human shield wall creating a pathway up to the outer gate. Lagertha and Ivar travelled beside Livia.

"The city looks like it will be grand." The Legata commented. The confused looks on the Viking's faces with some of her words were not lost on her either, so she tried to explain to Ivar as he rode next to her. "A Legatus is what you would call a war chief, or a General, I serve my Emperor, my King, in charge of his armies." Livia explained. "These men are my Praetorian Guard, skilled warriors who dedicate their lives to their king." Lagertha and Ivar listened quietly, both showing interest in what she was saying. Ivar seemed somewhat angry, but given his demeanor and appearance, it was difficult to tell whether he was always angry or if he just appeared to look that way.

Lagertha smiled softly, looking down at her own feet as she walked slowly and casually, escorting the Legata past the first wall into the outer settlement. "Ivar's father was a king," Lagertha said, smiling up to her son-in-law. Ivar just kept looking at the red symbols on the unfolded map. "Unfortunately he is no longer with us, so Prince Ivar here was chosen by lots to lead our current expedition." Lagertha explained as they made their way on to the first draw-bridge over the outer motte. Queen Aslaug watched from the mound in the distance, never budging from her position as the hornuglar waited for the dozen or so Praetorians and legionaries to cross the motte with their mule cart. Afterwards, the shield-maidens would close the aisle they had created by repositioning themselves into a square box formation, following behind everyone as the last to cross the bridge, staying several paces behind the mule cart.

"Domine, the air is frigid, and the ground frozen solid, it will take at least a day of digging to recover the body, depending on how deeply she is buried." Livia nodded at the sudden announcement. "All the more opportunity to get to know our new friends?" She said to the Decanus, his feathered helmet fluttering in the frigid cold. Queen Lagertha smiled again warmly, stopping before the second narrower gate by the wooden palisade to allow Ivar's chariot and the mule cart to enter first. There was still one more motte, crossed via second draw-bridge past a third palisade into the open bailey within. Then the raised scarp hill, a steep incline requiring them to walk up the suspension bridge to the last stone wall, behind which Livia and her Argosians would find the great hall.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Livia Caesarius Character Portrait: Yoko Kayabuki Character Portrait: Sigurd Hring Character Portrait: Seno Miyagi Character Portrait: Uhtred the Godless Character Portrait: The Svinfylking
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When Livia returned to her feet, she was visibly confused at the reaction, she had been simply kneeling before a monarch, as a sign of respect, and deference. These barbarians certainly had some strange customs, and they served all the more to make the Legata uneasy. Although she did well not to show it.

She didn't react to Bjorn when he refused her drink, and spat on the ground. While she didn't openly react to it, she had made a mental note to watch Bjorn closely, it was a quiet mental note, and something that didn't visibly show on the Legata's face as they walked.

The Praetorians behind her walked with synchronized steps, their movements like one, their footfalls echoing through the entirety of the settlement.

Livia looked to the map as she walked with the group through the fortifications. Though she appeared interested in the map, her mind was sharp, and her eyes occasionally moved throughout the internal structure of the city's defenses. She was making mental notes of each, analyzing their construction, which siege engines would be required to defeat them. She didn't trust barbarians, especially after her contact with the barbarians on that ship, they fought savagely, but those that challenged her were put down like animals.

Livia's mind wandered a moment, to the acrid smell of gunpowder, and the raging calls of viking warriors, and the crack of muskets.

Her thoughts were interrupted by the Decanus, who reached over to touch the map. "I'm glad the Taiyou took the care to mark where the woman is buried." He said, glancing back at the servant, whom was rummaging through the mule, making sure the shovels, and pickaxes were ready for use. He checked their polymer handles, to make sure they weren't brittle in this cold, then he checked the shovels.

Livia looked up from the map The Praetorians stepped aside to allow the pack mule to overtake their formation, and cross the last bridge first, once they resumed their formation, they marched in step behind Livia, the great Hall up ahead. The Legata was anticipating a hot meal, and an even hotter bath after today, something to warm her bones, as she was unused to the cold. Argos was a fairly warm moon, where Livia had been raised warmer still. She furrowed her brow at the ice crystals forming in between the plates of her lorica armor. The cold was seeping through the heavy Paenula she had been wearing, so she pulled the fabric closer.

The setting changes from Iskjerne Bay to Iskjerne Forge

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Volund
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#, as written by Sigurd
Volund the Crafter and the one-thousand Ljosalfar who accompanied him would soon notice an open satchel laying on the ground. The tiny faefolk who hovered around the alfar would light the way, picking up the whole satchel and flew it to Volund, offering it to him.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Volund
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Volund followed the faefolk up the long stone stairway, accepting the satchel as it was handed to him. He reached into the satchel and pulled out a crystal growing on a small rock. It was glowing bright purple, with pulsating light. Volund the Archer put the crystal into his thick coat pocket and added the satchel to his inventory before ordering his blacksmiths to work.

The setting changes from Iskjerne Forge to Iskjerne Bay

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Livia Caesarius Character Portrait: Yoko Kayabuki Character Portrait: Sigurd Hring Character Portrait: Seno Miyagi Character Portrait: Uhtred the Godless Character Portrait: The Svinfylking
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As they moved through the gates, Livia continued to closely observe the defenses, and how the city was set up. She made a mental note of the positions of every man in the city, their weapons and equipment, and their general demeanor.

"We'll start digging tomorrow at first light." Livia commented, as she moved into the great mead hall, her eyes on the Decanus behind her.

Livia turned her attention to Lagertha, and offered a nod, before she turned to her Decanus. "Have the men unload the cart, stage the tools at the dig site, and bring in a sled to carry the body out. See to it the mule is kept warm at a stable or something, I don't want it to freeze to death out here in the cold."

The Decanus nodded, and turned back to relay the orders to his men, They would find a place, or be shown a place to store the mule cart, before they began to unload the tools to bring inside.

Once inside the mead hall, Livia smiled at the warmth, and she nodded to one of the Legionaries that came inside with her. She held her arms out to her side, and the Legionary began to undo the fasteners that secured her Paenula, pulling the plush, velvety red cloak off of the Legata, revealing her Lorica armor, which shimmered in the orange flame. The Lorica armor was worn over a heavy red, and white tunica, which extended down to the mid thigh, protected by armored strips of leather. Livia also had her sword, which was encased in a silver, gold imbued scabbard that bore ornate geometric designs. There was another strange weapon holstered on Livia's back. It was a flintlock pistol, with an engraved wooden handle with poured gold inlaid designs.

There was a dagger sheathed in Livia's left boot, and a second weapon holstered in her right boot. This weapon was even stranger in appearance from the weapon holstered at her back. Sheathed in a black kydex holster, the Seburo BoBson Centennial edition semi-automatic pistol was secured snugly in her boot.

The Legionary took her Paenula cloak, and began to delicately fold it up, as Livia took a step forward. She was somewhat lithe in build, but years of combat gave her a toned appearance that was evidenced in the muscles of her arms, and legs.

She dared not take a seat, or do anything else that might offend those before her. So she inclined her head.

"Such a magnificent hall, and warm too. Thank you for your hospitality." Livia said. "If it's not too much trouble, is there somewhere I can have my legionaries draw me a warm bath? I'm not used to the cold, here."

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Livia Caesarius Character Portrait: Sigurd Hring Character Portrait: Uhtred the Godless Character Portrait: The Svinfylking Character Portrait: The Ljosalfar Character Portrait: The Berserkers
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Iskjerne Bay, year unknown...
Inside the Ring Fort, just outside the Mead Hall...


As the troops continued to march through the gates, Lagertha's shield-maidens kept a sharp eye on Livia the Legata and her small band of Praetorians, stopping at the foot of the bridge as the Argosians made their way up the large suspended ramp to the innermost stone wall. Livia would look around, observing the positions of every man in the city, as the guards near the wooden palisade stared back at her silently, taking a mental note of Livia and her legionaries as well. The berserkers at the head of the suspension bridge would part ways and make a path for Lagertha and her guests as they started to make their way through the spiked metal gate.

"Who are they? And why does that one there keep looking over here?" one of the workers asked the guards beside him as he shoveled snow and dirt away from the place where Ivar's Keep was being built. "I have no idea who they are, friends of Queen Lagertha I assume," the guard answered. "She looks oftly interested in our defenses," another guard commented. "What should we do?" another one of the shirtless workers asked, his hands and face dirty from digging trenches all day. "I'll take care of it. Just keep your teeth together and go back to work," the guard said, before walking casually back to the Mead Hall.

"We'll start digging tomorrow at first light." Livia commented, as she moved into the great mead hall, her eyes on the Decanus behind her. Livia turned her attention to Lagertha, and offered a nod, before she turned to her Decanus. "Have the men unload the cart, stage the tools at the dig site, and bring in a sled to carry the body out. See to it the mule is kept warm at a stable or something, I don't want it to freeze to death out here in the cold." Livia's words did not fall on deaf ears. "I will have one of my maid-servants show you the way," Lagertha said, nodding to one of the young slave girls who was standing nearby. The Decanus nodded, and turned back to relay the orders to his men. The young girl would show them to the stables, pointing to a place inside where they could store their mule cart, before the Argosians began to unload the tools to bring them inside. The young girl just stood there quietly by the doorway, watching them with curiosity and a hint of fear or shyness. She couldn't be more than 12-years-old, with blue eyes, blonde hair and a dirty face.

As the legata and her crew stepped out of the freezing cold and into Iskjerne's large Mead Hall, the berserkers closed the spiked metal gate at the stone wall behind them, stopping all traffic to and from the suspension bridge. A small band of hornuglars would guard the foot of the bridge below the scarp, while the small band of berserkers would take up positions outside the Mead Hall, guarding the spiked metal gate. All the while, Queen Aslaug was still standing on the earth mound outside the ring fortress, gazing into the distance with a blank expression, never moving an inch as the kattrfylking sitting on the ground below her continued to spin their threads and weave spindles of yarn to be used in the future.


Iskjerne Bay, moments later...
Just as a single guard was leaving the Mead Hall...


"Listen here little brother, you were chosen by runes to be the commander of this expedition, but I am still older than you. Don't forget that" Bjorn Ironside said calmly, looking down at Prince Ivar who was smiling patiently. "Is that why our father left you in Kattegat, and took me raiding with him instead?" Ivar the Boneless grinned, still gripping the knife he had concealed under the table. Bjorn Ironside leaned forward, suddenly slamming his fist down on the table, and was about to grab Prince Ivar by his neck when suddenly the Mead Hall doors opened up and Queen Lagertha stepped in, accompanied by Livia and her most personal guards. Bjorn stared sternly at Ivar for a brief moment before regaining his composure. Ivar smirked quietly, putting his knife away before anyone could see it. Bjorn would crink his neck and shoulders, relaxing his nerves and loosening up before turning around to greet his mother and their guests, all of whom oblivious to the tensions between the two legendary viking brothers. Ivar just kept smiling, his eyes trailing over to the legata as his very tall and very large brother breathed deeply and turned to greet everyone while being calm and maintaining his resolve.

"Well? Welcome to our mead hall" Bjorn said impatiently, raising his hands at his sides with his palms open before taking a seat next to Ivar. Lagertha smiled softly and walked over to to her son, placing her hand gently on his shoulder before taking her place on the queen's throne beside Prince Ivar, looking at her guests.

Once inside the mead hall, Livia smiled at the warmth, and she nodded to one of the legionaries that came inside with her. She held her arms out to her side, and the legionary began to undo the fasteners that secured her red cloak, revealing her lorica, which was worn over a red and white tunic, protected by armored strips of leather. Livia also had her sword, which was encased in a silver, gold imbued scabbard that bore ornate geometrical designs. There was another strange weapon holstered on her back. It was a flintlock pistol, with an engraved wooden handle with poured gold inlaid designs. There was a dagger sheathed in Livia's left boot, and a second weapon holstered in her right boot. This weapon was even stranger in appearance from the weapon holstered at her back. Sheathed in a black kydex holster, the Seburo BoBson Centennial edition semi-automatic pistol was secured snugly in her boot as she stepped forward. She dared not take a seat, or do anything else that might offend those before her. So she just inclined her head instead.

"Such a magnificent hall, and warm too. Thank you for your hospitality." Livia said. Ivar the Boneless just kept smiling quietly, glancing over to Bjorn Ironside, who kept his composure and his thoughts to himself. "Please, come on in, take a seat" Prince Ivar said, motioning for everyone to gather around the long heavy wooden table carved from a single tree. "If it's not too much trouble, is there somewhere I can have my legionaries draw me a warm bath? I'm not used to the cold, here." Livia added. Bjorn just gritted his teeth. "Why of course," Queen Lagertha assured her with a smile. "What? Do they not know what tomorrow is?" Bjorn Ironside asked his mother. Queen Lagertha scorned him silently with her eyes before smiling again to Livia and her guards. "It will be Bath Day very shortly. By the time we're done eating, your bath will be ready. In the meantime, sit down and warm yourself by the fire. Eat. Drink. Enjoy." the viking prince Ivar the Boneless insisted as his slaves suddenly started walking in with plates and dishes, food and mead horns already filled and ready to be served.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Livia Caesarius Character Portrait: Sigurd Hring Character Portrait: Uhtred the Godless Character Portrait: The Svinfylking Character Portrait: The Ljosalfar Character Portrait: The Berserkers
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#, as written by Sigurd
Nobody at Iskjerne Bay was aware of it yet, but Sigurd Hring was watching. His spirit moved across the waters, over the mounds and hills, the prayers of his descendants being heard from down beneath the earth. Sigurd Hring had become One with Gaia, and now looked down upon Iskjerne Bay as a titan and a god. The Spirit of Sigurd swept over the Weargtooth Mountains, a cold swift breeze sweeping through the viking settlement. All non-magical, non-medieval technology was instantly disabled without any sign, indication or warning, and would be permanently disabled at Iskjerne Bay forever, or until the gods decided to change their minds.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Livia Caesarius Character Portrait: Yoko Kayabuki Character Portrait: Sigurd Hring Character Portrait: Seno Miyagi Character Portrait: Uhtred the Godless Character Portrait: The Svinfylking
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Livia slowly lowered herself at the table with the other Vikings, her Decanus taking a position directly behind her. But something else was on the Legata's mind as she surveyed the demeanor of the inhabitants.

She looked to the food that was set out before her. Was it poisoned? Livia regarded the plates before her with narrowed eyes, before she reached for a piece of fowl, pulling some of the meat off of the bone, she passed it back to her Decanus, who took the meat from her hands, and placed it in his mouth, chewing on it thoughtfully.

He leaned forward, and whispered something in her ear, and at that moment, Livia took the food, and began to pile it onto her plate. Her trek across the vast gulf of space, and her journey here from the gateway left her, and her men famished, having subsisted on MRE's given to them by the Taiyou Military, along with their own pickled fish paste, and hard tack bread.

After finishing her portion of savory meat, Livia once again gestured for her Decanus' ear, where she quietly whispered.

"I do not trust these savages, send a messenger to Argos with all haste, deliver this to Admiral Lanius." She whispered in the Decanus' ear, while passing him a small rolled piece of paper from a leather pouch on her tunica. The small message indicated the current time, and date, and instructed Admiral Lanius to begin his operation if Livia did not contact the Taiyou in four days.

The Decanus slid the rolled piece of paper into his own armored leather pouch on his belt, and secured it to deliver to the messenger. He quietly remained at Livia's side as she politely ate her meal. She was civilized, and her mannerisms showed it. Her eyes seemed to watch the room though. Quietly, the Decanus passed the note to one of the Indigo robed Praetorians, who turned to leave the mead hall.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Livia Caesarius Character Portrait: Sigurd Hring Character Portrait: Uhtred the Godless Character Portrait: The Svinfylking Character Portrait: The Ljosalfar Character Portrait: Erling Snake
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As the Legata narrowed her eyes at the food in front of her, Ivar the Boneless just smiled quietly. Lagertha patiently waited for the wine servants to finish pouring mead for everyone before picking up her own drinking horn and smiling to Livia, and her praetorians. Bjorn wasn't even paying any attention to any of them. Bjorn Ironside was hungry, as he leaned over everybody in the path between him and the potatoes. The other vikings at the table didn't seem to mind, however, or mind their own manners much either, but Bjorn stood out among them, perhaps because he was just bigger than most of the other people in the mead hall. He had a better reach, his large skull-crushing hands equal to his pig-eating appetite as he ambidextrously reached for the red apple in the pork's mouth and plucked it out with his other hand, biting into the apple with his own teeth. Ivar the Boneless just grinned.

As the vikings in the mead hall started loading their plates with food, never bothering to wait for their guests, Lagertha suddenly raised her drinking horn, and her voice so that everyone could hear her inside the hall. "I want to give a toast," she said loudly, causing a majority of the vikings to simmer down and raise their drinking vessels as well. But as they did, Livia would notice that all of the viking's many different dishes and silverwear were highly unusual and very stylistic, as if each plate and bowl had come from a different market rather than all from the same set. These were not primitive savages like the many smaller tribes and clans that had proceeded them. Ivar's Army was a highly culturalized, highly civilized force. Prince Ivar had brought actual expert Vikings on his voyage, men who were vikings by profession, not just by title or stereotype. These were people who made a living by raiding other people. Every silver spoon, cast iron pan, golden chalice, bronze plate, tin cup, and steel knife was very diverse in shape and design, some more expensive and valuable than others.

Nobody at the feast even noticed that Livia's decanus had handed a small scroll to one of the praetorians. They were all too focused on the mead and festivities, as Lagertha called for a toast. Prince Ivar tapped a metal spoon against his crystal goblet lightly a few times, helping Lagertha to get everyone's attention at the large wooden table that had been carved from a single giant tree, before picking up his own glass of wine. "To Frigg the All-Mother, may she bless this feast... And to our guests, may she bring us all much peace and prosperity while you are here." Lagertha smiled, raising her drinking horn into the air. "SKAL!!" Bjorn Ironside bellowed, quickly chugging his large metal tankard of ale with foam running down his beard. "Skal!" others soon echoed over one another as they took a swig of whatever was poured. "Skal," Lagertha said, calmly and more quietly as she smiled to Livia and her crew, raising her drinking horn again while nodding to Livia with respect.

Livia's praetorian messenger in the night blue robes would leave the mead hall discreetly and quietly. It wasn't even so much that the vikings at the table didn't notice him leave. They just didn't seem to care. They were all more lost in the moment, focusing on the red wine, the golden mead, the amber ale, the freshly cooked ham and cow steak with steaming hot carrots, onions and sliced potatoes. All except for Ivar the Boneless, he was still grinning silently, twirling his spoon on the table while looking at Livia, staring at her quietly from the king's throne. As the praetorian messenger left the mead hall and walked outside into the chilly snow, he would notice that the spiked gate attached to the stone wall was now locked and closed, and there were large bear-skinned berserkers blocking all traffic to and from the suspension bridge, for reasons unknown. These were tall, built warriors with painted faces and bodies, carrying large heavy weapons, full fledged bear-hides flung over their heads, backs and shoulders, keeping them nice and warm as they stared at the indigo robed messenger quietly, waiting to see if he would approach the wall.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Livia Caesarius Character Portrait: Yoko Kayabuki Character Portrait: Sigurd Hring Character Portrait: Seno Miyagi Character Portrait: Uhtred the Godless Character Portrait: The Svinfylking
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The moment the Praetorian slipped out of the mead hall, while everyone seemed to be focused on their own revelry, Livia reached into her velvet red tunica, and slid it into a small cloth pocket that was fastened securely under her lorica armor. She grasped her slender fingers around something, and slowly she pulled it out. She held it up, and the other Vikings would see a unique piece of brass jewelry, almost like a pendant with a small silver chain that was fastened securely to the woman's steel armor strap, affixed to a small metal loop that was riveted into the armor segment.

Curiously, with her thumb, she flipped the pendant open, to reveal a white facing with numbers all around it, and small pointers that seemed to point towards different numbers. She put her thumb, and index finger around a small knob near the top chain, and began to twist, the strange piece making a winding sound with each twist of her fingers. Once she finished, the strange pendant made a soft, rhythmic, but rapid ticking sound, that was drowned out by the revelry of the mead hall.

She felt eyes on her, but she didn't react right away, rather she turned her attention over to Lagertha, and raised her own glass. She called out the word. "Bibe!" As she raised her own, taking a drink of the liquid inside. Livia returned her own respectful nod to Lagertha, the timepiece still held snugly in her hand, as her eyes moved back to the face of the timepiece that had been softly ticking away, mechanical gears powered by a tightly wound mainspring, it was fine Taiyou craftsmanship, a gift from Prime Minister Kayabuki during one of the many peace summits that Livia had attended in the past.

She stared at the brass timepiece, before she flipped the cover closed over the face, sliding it back into it's pouch as her steely eyes rose up to meet Ivar's.

Livia's own eyes narrowed suspiciously as she seemed to engage in a staring contest with Ivar, who would flinch first? Livia had multiple contingencies, which were upon contingencies, and contingencies. Twenty four hours was what she had given General Hama back at the gate, if she didn't contact him in twenty four hours, he was going to send a rescue party, and Livia knew that would further inflame an already tense situation. She had left an entire Evocati cohort back on Niihama, armed with some of the best equipment that Argosian denarii could buy.

---

Outside in the chilly air, the lone Praetorian rubbed his hands, trying to garner some warmth in the frigid bay. He took a quick survey of his surroundings, they had the gate shut, and the doors locked with bearskin warriors guarding it. The Praetorian guardsman grimaced, and then quietly shook his head. He opted to make no further disruption, and return to the mead hall.

He opened the door just wide enough to let himself in, and if unobstructed, would return to Livia's side, leaning forward to whisper quietly in her ear.

Livia didn't seem to react, rather she took a piece of venison from a nearby plate, before dismissing the Praetorian back to his post.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Livia Caesarius Character Portrait: Yoko Kayabuki Character Portrait: Sigurd Hring Character Portrait: Seno Miyagi Character Portrait: Uhtred the Godless Character Portrait: The Svinfylking
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#, as written by Sigurd
Sigurd Hring was dead.

He had been dead for two generations, yet his legacy had lived on long after he was gone. Sigurd had become One with Gaia, and had transcended the physical realm. He was more than just a man. To the native inhabitants, he was now a Titan, and to his viking descendants in Iskjerne Bay, he was now a god. He was the founder and first patriarch of the greatest viking settlement in the universe, the seed from which all the rest had blossomed. All he ever wanted was to live in peace, to create a free society, and help to cultivate the land which loved him so dearly. He had fought tooth and nail to establish a sanctuary where people would be treated equally, where they would have the freedom of religion, the freedom to change their social status and role in society, where they would have the opportunity to make a difference, rather than being slaves.

Sigurd Hring had a dream, and he had spent his entire life fighting for it, all the way up to the time of his death. Sigurd's son had a similar dream, a similar goal in mind. Ragnar was captured, or rather, had willingly turned himself in, for reasons unknown. Ragnar was not spared from torture and torment. He had been bound and chained, humiliated, prodded with spears and whips, his flesh burned and marked, his face disfigured, his body disgarded into a chamber of serpents, so that Ragnar's own sons could hardly recognize him. Oh how the little piggies would squeel when they heard how the old boar had suffered. Never before in history would Vikings be so wrathful and eager for revenge. Ragnar Lothbrok was a legend, and he still is to this very day, just like his father and their fathers before them.

But even Ragnar was not as great as his predecessor King Sigurd, the Ringtaker, the man who married Ragnar's mother. Sigurd Hring, slayer of dragons, giants and dwarfs alike, successor to his own uncle Harald Wartooth, whom he had battled honorably and killed at King Harald's own request. King Sigurd was a legend from the very beginning, a legend which grew over time as he defeated one rival after another, facing monsters and demons, and gods greater than himself, never once surrendering or bowing a knee.

Who wants to be King?

Sigurd Hring was sick of fighting. He wanted only to retire peacefully, to create a marvel for all the worlds to see. He was not so much interested in fame, as he was in glory. Sigurd did not care about riches, wealth, or great expansion. He had no intentions of building an empire, or creating a magnificent army. Sigurd was more interested in the black earth, and fertile soil. He planted a farm, and built a fortified ring around his kingdom where Vikings and pagans could coexist together and find sanctuary. Iskjerne Bay was to be a remote safe haven, far away from all the wars, violence, torture, rape, death and crucifixions that Sigurd Hring and his family had experienced for centuries. His intentions were great, and his dreams were greater, but his timing was off and his fate was fixed. It was only a matter of time before this undefeated rebel met his inevitable doom.

Emperor Shimizu of the Taiyou Empire was not a friend of the Norse kings. Sigurd Hring had a run-in with the Taiyou, and what started as a peaceful encounter soon was wrought with confusion and misunderstanding which escalated into violent warfare between them. The Taiyou Empire, and their fear-driven galactic technology. The greatest civilization that ever lived, heh. Sigurd Hring would put their reputation to the test. Never before in the history of the cosmos had a rebellion been so adamant and strong willed. Never before would such a tiny primitive civilization make such a dramatic impact. Sigurd's army not only fought the Taiyou back, off of their own land, but had dared to attack the Taiyou on their own soil, with enough success that King Sigurd would warrant a visit from the Taiyou Emperor himself.

It wasn't enough. King Sigurd slaughtered the Emperor's army, killed one his advising mages, and sent the emperor crawling home with broken legs and injuries. It was a defeat the Taiyou Empire simply could not allow to go public. They amassed a great space army, and would be hell-bent on taking revenge. Sigurd's actions had endangered the entire planet of Gaia, and his fate was now fixed. It was only a matter of time before the Taiyou returned to make his life miserable.

Sigurd Hring looked around at the kingdom he had established. Women, children, vary a man between 15 and 50, good paganfolk who were not deserving of such ill-fated tyranny. His heart grieved with great sorrow, for he knew the future, and the horrible things that would happen to his people once their enemies had returned. He wept silently by himself, before re-gathering his composure and going out to face his kingdom. King Sigurd was a just and honest man. He told the Vikings what had happened, and what would happen as a result. But the people did not hate him for it. They praised him, erecting a magical permanent statue of King Sigurd from enchanted stone, and worshipping him as a living god. He promised them, that whoever came to him and called on his name, and followed him in death, would be with him in paradise.

The entire viking settlement had committed suicide, following Sigurd Hring in death, and sparing themselves from capture or torture in the hands of their enemies. Adding insult to injury, the Taiyou ships had wasted their journey. The Taiyou Empire was robbed of its chance at revenge, as King Sigurd and his loyal subjects took their own lives, leaving nothing but their memories. It was the ultimate act of defiance, an act of selflessness that would inspire rebels for generations to come.

Many years later, Ivar the Boneless, the son of King Ragnar and grandson of King Sigurd would arrive in Iskjerne Bay, influenced by Norse mythology and Taiyou propaganda, and driven by the spirits of his own ancestors. Sigurd Hring's ghost would come to Prince Ivar in his dreams, giving him spiritual advice and guidance, and instructions on how to rebuild the kingdom. But the young man was too bold and arrogant. He had inherited the same thick headedness as his father and grandfather. Ivar had not followed Sigurd's instructions, but had set his heart towards greed and selfishness. He had formed the Great Heathen Army and had plunged the Norse civilization into endless warfare, perverting everything that his grandfather King Sigurd had held sacred for decades.

That was a mistake...

Suddenly the ground in Iskjerne Bay would shake and tremble as bodies tossed and turned in their graves. Everyone in the great Hall, Viking and Argosian alike, would feel the earth tremble beneath their feet. At that moment, an invisible force seemed to unseat the crippled prince as he was suddenly thrown from the throne, with such force that if he did not catch himself, his bones would surely shatter. Meanwhile, the material wooden statue of Prince Ivar would be uprooted and split in half vertically, so that one half remained standing while the other half fell to the ground. Queen Aslaug would feel the mound below her start to tremble as well. The moment she had been waiting for had arrived.

Sigurd Hring had returned.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Yoko Kayabuki Character Portrait: Sigurd Hring Character Portrait: Seno Miyagi Character Portrait: Uhtred the Godless Character Portrait: The Svinfylking Character Portrait: Imperial Taiyou Army
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#, as written by Remæus
Thorvald the Great sensed the drum of the aeon, and perked up at the noise.

Man the sails, Fulgar. The horsemen ride at down.
he said solemnly, signaling his next intent.

The heave of oars was heard over the shouting disarray of the crowds, and he turned back towards his ships in a furor. The purpose of his step revealed an aggressive demeanor, almost hungry for war.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Livia Caesarius Character Portrait: Yoko Kayabuki Character Portrait: Sigurd Hring Character Portrait: Seno Miyagi Character Portrait: Uhtred the Godless Character Portrait: The Svinfylking
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The sudden trembling within the Mead Hall caught the Legata by suprise, getting quickly to her feet, she stopped with just enough time to see Ivar thrown from his throne. There was an overwhelming sense of danger as the Legata turned to her Praetorian. "Let's go, we need to get the bodies, and get out of here." She ordered, as the Praetorian guards all nodded in unison.

Livia, and every one of the Praetorian Guards inside the great mead hall stood up, and one by one moved out the great door, the First Praetorian opened the door for her, while the rest of her Praetorian Guards followed her out. The cold air of Iskjerne Bay greeted them once more, Livia tried to stifle a shiver, but they were going to take their leave of this place. If these new settlers wanted to take them prisoner, then she would make them earn it.

Livia unsheathed her sword and pointed it at the gate, shouting so the magical translator would convert her words. "Open the gate, now! We're leaving." She ordered, while all of her Praetorian Guardsmen surrounded her, and watched their surroundings to see what would happen next.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Yoko Kayabuki Character Portrait: Sigurd Hring Character Portrait: Seno Miyagi Character Portrait: Uhtred the Godless Character Portrait: The Svinfylking Character Portrait: Imperial Taiyou Army
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#, as written by Remæus
Fulgar Thornheim nodded in agreement with Thorvald, his second-in-command apt as always. Turning towards the docks, he signaled to his men that it was time again to depart.

Gather what supplies you can, we depart in one hour.
he stated sternly, pulling his fur cloak over his armor and stomping back towards his ship.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Yoko Kayabuki Character Portrait: Sigurd Hring Character Portrait: Seno Miyagi Character Portrait: Uhtred the Godless Character Portrait: The Svinfylking Character Portrait: Imperial Taiyou Army
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#, as written by Remæus
Fulgar's Forward Force heard their leader's command, and roared in raucous reply. They spread out into the settlement, commandeering the food stores and any armaments they could find. While not an act of aggression, the noble cause of their unified vision for the Vikings' future gave way to easy requisition of Iskjerne's most abundant resources.

Upon collecting their bounty, they too followed Fulgar back to their vessels for departure onto the next leg of their journey.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Sigurd Hring Character Portrait: The Svinfylking Character Portrait: The Ljosalfar Character Portrait: The Berserkers Character Portrait: Thorvald Asvaldsson Character Portrait: Harald Fairhair
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The burial mound beneath Queen Aslaug would tremble and move, like a pregnant mother with groaning pains as suddenly, the dirt and grass began to shift. Soon, fingers emerged from beneath the soil. But these were not skeletal fingers, nor the blueish pale rotten appendages of a Draugr, rather they were of pinkish lively hue and covered with living flesh and nails.

Moments later, a whole arm would emerge from beneath the dark black rich fertile soil, and soon an entire man would dig his way out from the earth, his head and torso emerging to reveal a living human being, as if Gaia herself had just given birth.

The man would immediately gasp for air as he coughed up a mouth full of dirt, inhaling and exhaling as if it was his first time breathing fresh air. Soon he pulled his whole body out from beneath the fertile mound and rolled over on to his back, breathing heavily, exhausted and without any energy. He was a Norseman with dirty hair and mud stained clothes. His face, his shirt, his entire body was covered with brown mud and black dirt. He wore shaggy trousers, completely devoid of any shoes or armour. His feet and nails were dirty, and to everyone else nearby who could witness this spectacle, he looked like one of the goblins or uruk-hai who had been fashioned from earth.

But this was no orc or goblin, as soon they would see, for as he opened his eyelids to stare up at the skies, his eyes were bright blue and full of life. The man who had just crawled out from underground was a human, and not just any human. It was the long lost son of Sigurd Hring, who had been presumed dead for a very long time. The now very weak, very vulnerable man who was sprawled out on the ground in Iskjerne Bay was none other than Ragnar Lothbrok, the Ghost of England, a legendary Viking from whom many a Norseman, both in Iskjerne Bay and surrounding counties were all descended and had written many poems about.

It was as if Sigurd the Ringtaker himself had returned. But this was not King Sigurd, nor was he a god with divine powers. This was a man of flesh and blood, a mortal being in dire need of food, drink, and medical conditioning.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Livia Caesarius Character Portrait: Yoko Kayabuki Character Portrait: Sigurd Hring Character Portrait: Seno Miyagi Character Portrait: Uhtred the Godless Character Portrait: The Svinfylking
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Livia had assembled her guards to leave, and were well on the way to doing so until they passed a mule cart. The Praetorians had been marching in formation as they left the settlement. Though they didn't seem to pay any heed to it as they all marched. However, Livia had caught the wounded man in the back of the cart, and she stopped then, and there in the moment. She didn't know what compelled her to help, but she figured if she was going to start digging up burial mounds, she would have to earn these people's trust.

She held up her hand, and made a fist, causing her Praetorians to stop in their tracks as well, their armor making a clanking sound as they abruptly stopped, and the men clenched their weapons closely.

"Julius, fetch the medical kit from our cart." Livia instructed. The Praetorian offered a sharp nod, before starting off towards what was left of the stables, and the Argosian mule cart, which had been guarded by two vigilant Praetorians since Ivar's fall.

Livia turned to face the Mule Cart, before she called out to it. "Hætta!" Livia called out, moving swiftly after the mule cart, towards it even, though her nordic words were twisted by a Latin style accent, the word itself was clear, and the moment Livia managed to catch up to the mule cart, was the moment that the Praetorian returned with a large white briefcase, that had a large red cross emblazoned on it. The Praetorian looked around, confused for a moment as he handed it towards the Legata, another Praetorian approaching with a large bidon of water, which sloshed inside the plastic container.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Livia Caesarius Character Portrait: Yoko Kayabuki Character Portrait: Sigurd Hring Character Portrait: Seno Miyagi Character Portrait: Uhtred the Godless Character Portrait: The Svinfylking
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Thorvald Asvaldsson and his son Erik Thorvaldsson were just about to enter the final spiked gate and approach the Iskjerne Castle in their slow moving mule wagon when suddenly they heard someone call out behind them.

"Hætta!" Livia commanded as she quickly started to approach the back of the stopping cart. Erik would discreetly move his hand towards his waistline to grab his small curved seax, but his father Thorvald would seize his arm and stop him, glancing at him quietly for a brief moment before turning around to look at Livia the Legata and her approaching guards. "Let me handle this," he whispered to his son. Thorvald Asvaldsson would remove his hat and nod quietly to the Praetorians, without making any sudden moves. Erik followed suit, easing up and and bowing his head quietly.

Erik watched distrustfully but curiously as one of the Praetorians walked up to Livia with a large white briefcase with a bright red cross on it, gazing at the wounded passenger in the back of the hay wagon before looking around. Soon another Praetorian approached the mule cart with a plastic water container. Thorvald and Erik glanced at one another silently before turning to look again at the Praetorian guards and their female leader. They understood Livia just fine, but they did not recognize her Latinized accent. Thorvald decided to try and speak to her and find out what she wanted as he looked down at the injured person in the back of his wagon before looking at her.

"Kveðja sómakona mín. Ég er Þorvaldur, sonur Asvalds víðs vegar um haf, og þetta er sonur minn Erik, sem er að ferðast mér við hlið. Þekkir þú þennan mann aftan í kerrunni? Við fundum hann á einni hæðinni, eins og hann er núna. Við vitum ekki hvernig hann komst á þennan hátt. En ég get fullvissað þig um að það vorum ekki við sem rændum hann. Við ætluðum bara að koma honum í musterið og skilja hann eftir. Við erum bara fátækir bændur, eins og þú sérð. Við höfum enga peninga en þér er velkomið að líta í kringum þig og taka það sem þú vilt. Vinsamlegast vinsamlegast ekki meiða okkur." the fifty-year-old man said, still holding his hat in his hands.

Thorvald's accent was just as bad as Livia's accent, it seemed, and although he had the appearance and makings of a true Norseman, and could speak fluently, it was apparent to the sharply tuned ears that Thorvald Bloodyfist was not a native to this northernmost part of the land. Nor was Erik, for they both had redder skin than the Iskjerne Vikings, as if they had been traveling for a very long time in the hot sun. Thorvald and Erik watched quietly with widened eyes, obviously very alert and aware of their surroundings, if not a little intimidated and confused by the well dressed Praetorians who outnumbered them considerably. What did they want with two poor farmers and a wounded man? Were they planning to highjack the wagon? Thorvald swallowed and lowered his head, making himself appear as humble as possible while hoping not to offend Livia and her guards as they examined the wagon.