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 Posted: Wed Jun 21, 2017 9:04 pm
Athild’s father was grateful to be lent a listening ear. He was a hard-working man, one who didn’t like to complain, especially when the Jarl had been good to him for the most part, but something had been bothering him for a while. “I’ve seen better days, m’am. If I’m to be honest, my back’s been at pain for a long time now. I’ve grown old and weak; I’m not much use in the fields these days. I’m not as strong as I used to be.” He happened to have scoliosis, and it was worse than Athild’s, whose scoliosis was mostly minor, but the labor took quite a strain on his back, and it was hard when he had to sleep in a barn; hay wasn’t quite as comfortable as a bed, but—as a thrall—he didn’t enjoy that privilege.
Meanwhile, Athild had to do some searching, but she eventually found what she needed to bind Kari’s hand. “It may hurt a bit,” she stated, taking the wraps and carefully setting them over Kari’s hands. It wasn’t so much the initial wrapping that hurt; it was the fastening that came after which stung, but as soon as the pain subsided, it wouldn’t have been a problem as long as she limited the movement of her hand.
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Posted: Thu Jun 22, 2017 8:37 am
Some shapely woman had taken a seat nearby. “I haven’t seen you before. Who might you be?” she asked, somewhat apathetic in her expression; she wasn’t very expressive, not unless she was with her husband and children. Ljufa, like many of the warriors, were simply distracted by other things: the music, the dancing, the feasting. However, she had seen Inkeri enter, and from the looks of it, she was a traveler. Ljufa knew most of the people in Torsborg, or at least those that mattered enough to be known. Astrid, Gerold, Arnbjörn, and many of the other famous names. Ljufa was a distinguished warrior herself; she and Ingun were very well-known; Isgerd was still finding her way.
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Posted: Thu Jun 22, 2017 11:02 am
 Inkeri
Mood: Indifferent Company: Ljufa OOC: [x] Inkeri's eyebrow cocked over her mead as a woman sat near her and inquired her name. After looking her up and down, she was sure that the woman before her was a daughter of Sigfast. They had a rather distinct look about them. "I am Inkeri... and by the looks of your birthing hips, you must be Ljufa. Only women who endured the pain of bearing children are so wide set." Inkeri spoke with respect, seeing motherhood as the highest honor a woman could ask for. "I have heard that Freyja has blessed you thrice as she did your mother and you continue to be a formidable opponent on the battle field." The stories of the warrior before her had not fallen on deaf ears. "Are you not one for the festivities?" Her gaze shifted back to the merriment, something she'd left long behind in her days of youth.
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Posted: Thu Jun 22, 2017 3:11 pm
Ljufa nodded at the guess of her identity; she was indeed the mother bear who could still wield her weapon with the same ferocity, perhaps more, as a mother and as a warrior. In the past, she had only her fame to fight for, now she had a family she endeavored to return to, and she would slaughter any Englishman that prevented her from returning home victorious. Inkeri was observant enough to realize she wasn’t participating in much else beyond sitting in her seat. “At the end of the night, it’s a farewell, and come morrow, we sail away. I’m many things, a mother and wife is one of them. I fear my children may yet view my sister as more a mother than I.” Ljufa’s heart was definitely for the fight, yet it was also in the hands of her family. Her travels satisfied her longing for battle, but she had an underlying fear that Ingun—though she loved her sister dearly—held more of her children’s affinity. “What of yourself? I suppose you’re among strangers, however.”
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Posted: Thu Jun 22, 2017 3:22 pm
Inkeri
Mood: Piqued Company: Ljufa OOC: [x] Inkeri felt a tug at her heart strings when the woman before her voiced her concerns over her children's affection following the soon departure. It reminded her of her own mother a bit. "Worry not about the affection of the products of your loins. No body could ever replace the true mother. In the eyes of a child, mother is god. She finished off her drink. "And like the gods we worship, mothers are with us always, even if not physically. I remember my own mother like I remember the sunrise, and my love for her has never faltered." A small smile cracked her lips. She might find a friend with the woman next to her. "Ah yes, I am always among strangers. I never stay in one place for too long, cursed to be a lonely nomad.
When word of the English Threat I couldn't just stand by and do nothing.
I'd much prefer to stand and fight for my people, even if they know not that I call them mine."
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Posted: Fri Jun 23, 2017 7:07 pm
“Why a nomad? If you have the will to fight for this land, it is just as much your home as it is ours,” she replied. After all, assuming they were successful in their raids, she would have plenty enough wealth to buy her home, not to mention gain some recognition throughout the area for her prowess—or weakness, it all depended, really. Even the most expert of warriors could find themselves in humiliating situations. Inkeri seemed the competent type, but only the toils of battle would tell. Christians and their treasures in England, ripe for the taking, all in the hands of men in silly robes proclaiming the will of a single god who advocated weakness and forgiveness—how boring. It all sounded contradictory, and she only her the biased snippets from others who cared enough.
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Posted: Fri Jun 23, 2017 7:11 pm
“You can count I’ll swing that sword faster than I can twirl. I’ve heads to cleave and treasure to find. One day, everyone will know my name.” Isgerd wasn’t Ljufa, but she was talented in her own right; she simply needed the opportunity to prove it, and the raids would prove that chance. Strength and valor had to be proven by one’s deeds, recognized deeds, songs to sing of great warriors. If all went well, Isgerd’s name would be adorned with other shieldmaidens who fought valiantly to take the spoils from the Anglo-Saxons. Arnbjörn already made a name for himself; now she just needed to do the same. Isgerd herself had spent most of her time training, taking every opportunity she could to hone her skills and be a force to be reckoned with in the battlefield.
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Posted: Sat Jun 24, 2017 7:17 pm
Inkeri
Mood: Piqued Company: Ljufa OOC: Sorry for the short post. Long weekend. "My village was destroyed a long time ago... and I've yet to find a home for myself. It's easier to not get attached anyways. The world holds so much death and despair as it is Ljufa..." Inkeri leaned back in her seat, watching the crowd. "Your sister?" She motioned her head towards another blonde on the dance floor. "All you daughters of Sigfast look the same."
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