The sweat on Sivid’s brow was only partially to do with the fire. He had found himself face to face with the man they called Frothing Urek,… Read more “10.21 – Frothing Urek”
Einarr once more offered Jorir the hilt of his sword in token of their pledge, and the dwarf grasped it without hesitation. “A test, my lord?” Jorir… Read more “3.21 – Enticement of Food”
Einarr made his opening moves especially eye-catching this round. From his hop-skip out he did a handspring and landed on his toes in a crouch. Rather than… Read more “3.20 – Sword Dance”
The tune the musicians played was an unfamiliar one to Einarr, but that hardly mattered. The rhythm was heavy enough no-one could mistake it, and the fundamentals… Read more “3.19 – Dance with the Devil”
“You’re about to go engage a dead man in a battle of wits. I’m coming.” Tyr dusted off his palms as he stepped over toward the other… Read more “3.18 – Allthane’s Feast”
Sivid gave himself a few turns to size up the opposition before venturing in for his warmup round. The puffed-up rooster of a man who looked just… Read more “2.22 – Hall Dance”
Einarr furrowed his brow at Runa’s suggestion, confused. “A… tune? But Song Magic is fundamentally ephemeral.” “Indeed.” All hint of sensuality was gone from Reki’s voice, and… Read more “2.21 – A Tune for All Seasons”
Einarr knew those boots very well, in fact. Had watched, in any spare moment she could find, as Astrid stitched them herself from the skins of rabbits she had asked him to catch.
At the feast that night, every time Einarr attempted to approach Runa, an older man of the Hall deftly slipped between them – holding her chair here, drowning his offer of tafl with a spontaneous verse there, and casting challenging looks at Einarr the entire time.