The Season of Haustmánuður, on the first Thorsdagr, Noon, Year 303

Cattle die, kinsmen die; the self must also die. I know one thing which never dies: the reputation of each dead man (Quotes from the Hávamál)

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The Egilsdotter, a merchant ship, is completing a several month long voyage and is returning to the capital-port of Fjordhaven in the Kingdom of Havmark. This country is mountainous and sparse outside of its larger cities, and is crisscrossed by deep fjords and thundering rivers. The people of Havmark make their living through fishing, raiding and exploring. For many years now it has been ruled by the Sailor-King, Olaf Farsegel. Although it is the youngest of the Norse Kingdoms it has enjoyed prosperity both in times in peace and the influx of loot in times of war under the stewardship of King Olaf.

In a week's time, Fjordhaven is due to celebrate the summer harvest. What was initially a local celebration has become more and more popular over time not only within the kingdom itself but with its neighbors, and now the summer harvest has become associated with a great and joyful time, where people from all over Midgard can meet, feast, make favorable trades and arrange marriages, seek out new employment or seek employees, and generally have a good time.

The Egilsdotter has sailed for many months, stopping in many ports along its way. You may have only just joined in the last few days, or perhaps you have been on board as a passenger for a few months now. Ultimately, your reasons for traveling to Fjordhaven are known only to you. Regardless, your final port of call will be Fjordhaven.

It is now Noon, and the sun hangs high in the sky warming the decks and inviting passengers to come and warm up from the bowels of the ship. No matter where you stand on the ship, looking in all directions only reveals the water far off to the horizon. The crew, occupied in their duties ignore you as call to one another and make small adjustments to ensure they travel with the winds. On deck other passengers both local to Havmark and foreign alike chat amongst themselves, have midday meals (complete with mead or other spirits), or play games of chance or enjoy other contests such as arm wrestling. A few weeks ago a Skald had boarded the ship and has kept the crew and passengers entertained with dramatic readings of stories, or otherwise sung and played instruments for them, honing his craft prior to the Harvest.

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OOC: Welcome to the Game. Feel free to begin posting not only to introduce your own characters but to enjoy roleplaying and chatting with your fellow PCs as well.

Unlike most of the passengers, and many of the crew Garnog is native to Fjordhaven, and serving on the Egilsdotter as an additional member of the crew for this journey.  Large and Dim is the most common description of Half Giants, and one that fits well enough with Garnog, but he is a bit less dim than most, able to keep up with the slower humans many of whom find themselves doing menial tasks aboard ships.  This unusual competence and his friendly and helpful demeanor inspired the apply named Sailor-King Olaf Farsegel to attempt the experiment of having him trained as a Sailor-Giant.

Still mostly used for the heavy lifting, the pulling of heavy lines, carrying of supplies, and such Garnog has proven able to perform some of the simple knots and grasp the basic concepts of not falling in the water accidentally or even swimming when he does.  Some members of the crew are still a bit wary of him and the raw power he represents, but almost all of them have accepted him as one of their own and this week marks the end of what has become at least a tentative friendship in a few.

With the ship in calm waters, and none of the more physically difficult tasks needing be done Garnog is seated in his favorite spot near the bow, watching the waves from a place out of the way, doing whatever slow and steady version of thinking his kind is capable of.

Runa curled up tightly into the smallest ball she could. The length of her staff made her look not too different to an extremely unreliable compass as it rocked this way and that with the motion of the boat.  Several days she had endured this and the end could not come soon enough.

Looking out across the water however, she wandered if the end would come at all. She could see nothing but the grey sky and the grey sea.

The slim, hooded, cloaked figure -  whom was leaning over the Egilsdotter's taffrail - usually wasn't found on deck during daylight hours.

She shook, and heaved -  as the contents of her stomach went downward into the sea.  Apparently, this environment was not so easily tolerated.  Sea-voyaging something of a new experience...

By the suffering Hosts of Helheim!  So much...water!  Can't -feel- the earth... It is intolerable! 

And then she was ill again.    Breeze blew a lock of hair from within the cowl, which was very fair in color - neither blonde, nor the grey of age.

On the stern end of the vessel, a robed figure watched silently as the sailors made adjustments to the ship's route. The midnight blue robe covered everything but his pale hands, wolf fur boots, and face. However, no one aboard the ship knew what his face looked like since below the robe's hood there was a wooden mask. The mask depicted a grey wolf, with a scar going from the left side of the snout to the left eye. The only parts of the man's face the mask did not cover were his chin, mouth and dark eyes.

The man had spent most of the day on that place, with one arm on the taffrail of the Egilsdotter while he watched impassively the crew and passengers going back and forth on their chores. However, suddenly, he left the taffrail and, with a slow purposeful stride, started to walk down the ship. As he passed by the sailors, they gave him a somewhat wider berth than necessary.  He could be an acquaintance of the captain, but the crew members were from Havmark and some of them had heard the rumours about Odd the Wolf Sorcerer.

Finally, Odd stopped besides the dark elf woman. Not looking directly at her but staring at the sea instead, the sorcerer produced a clean tissue from the depths of his robe and offered it to the dark elf woman. Then, in a deep calm voice, Odd said in Alfan: “I never thought the ageless spirits of nature’s would suffer from common physiological inconveniences like the rest of mortals.”
This message was last edited by the player at 19:28, Mon 30 Sept 2019.

She raised her head, and glanced toward this company she suddenly found herself in; regarding him with eyes right on the margin betwixt crimson and violet.   They flicked over him in what appeared to be cursory assessment.    Till they fixed upon the mask. And held there a time, as she took the offered tissue, and wiped her lips.     Which, once clean, curled slowly into a smile that could just as easily have been amusement, satisfaction, or mockery.

She spoke in the Alfr tongue, as addressed, and softly, the reply meant only for him-

"Everyone wears a mask.  Yours is merely more apparent for what it is."      She dropped the used tissue, let it fall toward the boundless sea. Watched it flutter and flit on the wind, before half turning from the rail, to regard him again.

"The Aesir lord, Tyr, lost a hand to a shaggy fellow. With a visage not unlike your own.   How's that for 'physiological inconvenience', hey?    The gods eat, fornicate," she shrugged, "perhaps defecate as well?   An Alfr being ill makes you wonder, does it?  Hm. Sometimes, common inconvenience is born of uncommon cause."     She gestured vaguely toward the sea, with a slender, dusky hand.

"Out here, that element veils the one from which I take vitality."
This message was last edited by the player at 01:10, Thu 03 Oct 2019.

Drawn at first to the not entirely unusual sound of retching over the side of the ship Garnog's attention stays a bit longer than normal as the other enigmatic passenger approaches from his perch.  The conversation clearly goes well over his head, but the offered and discarded tissue does not.

Watching the small floating object quickly fall behind the ship seems to amuse the seated giant even more than the odd language, keeping his focus for far longer than it should even be visible, almost as if he were expecting it to return.

Odd was silent as he listened to the dark elf talk. A slight, amused smile crept under the mask but he still did not look at her. Instead, his eyes followed the tissue as it elegantly flew into the air and fell into the ocean. Since he was standing at such a close distance, Askatla would note one peculiar thing about the wolf mask: the scar on the left side wasn't part of the original design, it was, in fact, a cut on the wooden mask. The sorcerer absently passed his fingers through the cut before finally replying.

"Indeed, you are right. Gods, spirits, mortals... They are not so different from each other. We all have fears, desires, and weaknesses. Makes you wonder why we mortals fear and respect those beings so much if they are as flawed as we are..." the sorcerer turned slowly, staring directly at her inhuman eyes with his dark eyes. "...maybe the only thing that differentiates mortal from immortal are the layers of masks that we wear."

After a pause, the sorcerer turned again his gaze away from the elf, this time looking towards the boat. He made ready to depart, but before leaving he took another white tissue from inside his robe and casually handed it to Askatla. “You should be more careful with this one. Something tells me you might need it again, here... so far away from your element.” With this, the sorcerer calmly resumed his stroll across the boat, smiling amused to himself as he imagined the surprised expression on the Dökkálfar's face when she found the small rock within the tissue.

After making a whole round around the boat, Odd stopped again to watch the sea. He had stopped right next to the Half-Giant the crewmembers called Garnog. The sorcerer did not say anything. Simply stood there silently watching the sea beside the giant.
This message was last edited by the player at 21:10, Tue 01 Oct 2019.

She did in fact note the thin rent on the one side of his mask;   and found it both apt, as well as a bit poetic:  'A crack in the mask'... everybody has one of those, as well.   Aye, at -least- one...

She accepted the second tissue, frowned slightly, feeling that there was something within it.     And indeed, she could feel it, knew what it was, even before she laid her eyes upon it.

She gasped a bit, as she held it in her bare fingers.   Raised it to her lips, and kissed it, before holding it over her heart, as though it were some long, lost kin.   Which, in a metaphysical sense, wasn't too far from true.

She let go a breath, feeling some relief.    In hindsight, she should have prepared, by bringing a pouch full.   But, she'd never done this before; had no idea what to anticipate.     And, had left her home in some amount of haste.

Aros was in the ropes above the deck, watching all the action upon the deck below as well as in the sea around them. Spotting Garnog upon the deck below, "He is a bit slow, but he means well and for all his size he is only aggressive when he has no choice. He is easy to work with, a possible travelling companion for sure." Seeing others upon the deck as well, We will have to see what happens when we get to the festival.

He then slowly lowers himself to the deck and goes to the rail near Garnog. "How is that rolling hitch knot coming, you were making some progress with it the other day. Want to help me, going to drop a line in the water and see if we can get something for dinner. If we do get lucky going to need a strong back and arms to bring it to the deck."

Looking away from the water only after Aros drops to the deck and addresses him the still seated Garnog looks very nearly eye to eye with the human and smiles a big welcoming smile full of only mildly scary teeth.  Holding out a heavy hemp rope looped back and tied to itself by a sloppy series of loops that crosses over itself he speaks in what is probably intended to be a soft voice, the tone is calm enough but the deep gravely voice behind it always seems to be barely containing a booming racket.  ”Knot is tricky, but strong.”

"With knots for use, strong is always better than pretty. How about the strength of your arms and back if I happen to catch something." Aros breaks out a fishing line and trolling lure, dropping it over the side before securing it to the rail. "If we get lucky will have some fresh food tonight might even be enough to share with some of the other passengers."

Meanwhile...

For those on board and on deck and who are new to Fjordhaven may have chance to overhear a battle scarred grandfather speaking to several of his grandchildren, telling them about the city and what to expect when they arrive:

"There are three districts of Fjordhaven..." he begins, explaining then that there is the The King's Hall, so named as it is at the highest part of the city where the King's court resides. He explains that it contains, appropriately enough, the great hall where the King and his advisers meet to conduct business of day, feast, and plan raiding parties, and (the occasional) war.

The grandfather explains that the homes of many prominent citizens featured in the King's District, as well as temples to various deities, the most important being the site where sacrifices, the blots were held in honor and worship of Odin. "For in the center there is said to be a sapling of the great Yggdrasil the tree of life, sacred to mighty Odin."

He explains that there are merchants shops also in the King's Hall, selling fine or exotic wares, as well as the magistrate's office for the city itself and the Grand Armory of the city, where Vikings and other warriors of the King would be outfitted in times of war.

The grandfather then explains the Central District also known as the "Iron Quarter" as "For many years it was where the great blacksmiths honed their trade, but now many other businesses make their home there.". He continues to explain that now it has become the largest and most populated part of Fjordhaven, containing not only residences, but many thriving businesses in addition to the traditional blacksmith's shops. Indeed, if one was looking for a well respected inn or a tavern to spend their time there was no better place to go. He continues "And it is in the Iron Quarter that there is the open square, Odin's Eye, where farmers from outside the city can either sell their wares or during harvests or other special occasions great events can be had. It is here that the celebration will be held."

Then conspiratorially to his grandchildren, he says "Indeed, it is said that in this quarter not only can you find a healer or herbalist, but also if you know where to look or who to ask, you might find a Völva who can work her magic for you."

The grandfather then explains the final district of the city, one that they would be sailing into, known appropriately enough as Harbor Town. "This section of town used to be the most populated and prosperous when Fjordhaven was still a young city in Havmark, but over the years it has lagged behind compared to the other parts of town." He explains that although relatively safe to travel through, the inhabitants of this portion of the city are poor and there are those who have resorted to begging or outright thievery in order to survive. It is said that you do not want to get lost in the middle of the night while wandering around Harbor Town. As a result of the increase in crime, King Olaf has directed the establishment of a prominent Guardhouse in center section of this district and has ordered that the captain step up regular patrols. In addition, the harbor and wharf itself hosts the home of many shipping companies, as well as shipwrights, as well as a lower class and much cheaper Tavern and Inn.

Distracted away from whatever conversation Aros may have been trying to start by the story Garnog listens intently to the description of home as he has so many times on this journey as others grow bored and begin recounting stories of their past.  Many parts of it seem new to him, holding his rapt but otherwise blank attention.  The section about Odin's Eye however seems to draw some amount of recognition out of him, even a silent nod at the mention of farmers and their wares.

Only after the description is over does he return his attention slowly but surely to Aros, all recollection of any previous topic completely gone.  ”Good to be home.”

Runa stirred and tried to shake some life into stiff muscles.  It still looked like grey water in all directions but she had watched, the strange wanderer had calmed the beautiful woman's bout of seasickness, had spoken to the giant, and been a site more sociable and tolerable than she had been.  She listened carefully to the flowing description from the bard, and almost curled back into a ball again.

"So many people.. I must have gotten on the wrong boat."

Time passes. Those with queasy stomachs find that the ship soon enters calmer (and shallower) waters. Indeed, eventually more and more sea birds can be seen hearkening their arrival to land though it will still be another day before you finally arrive to Fjordhaven.

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OOC: Closing the prologue game thread. Game thread will open tomorrow Friday October 18

For participation in this thread, Garnog, Runa, Askatla, Odd, and Aros all earn 50 glory/wisdom/experience points.