Board Thread:Roleplaying/@comment-17114085-20190126220742/@comment-17114085-20190410113455

"Yeah, I'm fine. Your spell healed my bruises up quickly. I owe you one." Jofrodr said, stretching his back a bit to show her that he was fine.

--

"I already know the basic details from your letter, but go over the past events again." Randagulf urged.

Rolf told him how the Orc frequent raids began a few months ago and how Captain Heimir had led the first group of Companions to try to fight them off and how the situation escalated until Jarl Skuld put out the first large bounty.

Bodvar and Styrbjorn added how their crews came to help defend the village and how everything culminated in the failed expedition up the mountain to the stronghold, where the Companions were ambushed and many of them lost their lives.

"Afterwards we had to evacuate the village, we didn't have enough men to protect the entire perimeter during another large raid.  Just in time too not a day later the Orcs attacked the empty village and torched much of it." Rolf stated.

"All because Heimir led us straight into a trap." Styrbjorn muttered angrily.

Men of the Nidhoggr overheard him and shouted insults at the Captain, which caused Styr's men to retort and another argument began.

"Silence!" Randagulf shouted through the argument, causing it to stop before fists were raised again. He stared at Styrbjorn with a look of disappointment and anger. "If this is how you've been acting no wonder your men have been at odds. You three must lead by example. If you fight each other, your men will do the same. You are captains, act like it."

Styrbjorn muttered something under his breath, but didn't argue with the Harbinger.

The lights were too distant from one another to be from a stronghold. They looked to be a kilometer or more apart from each other, they were also not moving so it wasn't a patrol either.

They could risk going out during the night to investigate them or wait until morning.

(@Nelthro: I've mentioned before that his helmet had a mask that covered his whole face just like the heavy Ancient Orcish Armor from ESO.)

Lamush managed to dodge with her back jump, but Boruus ducked when she tried to punch him and she missed.

He countered her with a swung to the side that she had exposed, right below the armpit.

"Frozen wasteland? You speak of Atmora, our homeland." Holma said with disapproval.

"Our people have lived in Skyrim for 13 generations, almost 400 years. This is our fatherland, our home." Harald retorted. "Neither you nor I nor anyone we know have ever set foot on Atmora. All we know of it are old tales and legends. Why should I care about a place I've never been to?"

"Because there are people still living there. We have a duty to" Holma argued.

"You call that living? The last migration fleet from Atmora came to Skyrim, what, a few decades ago. People say the migrants looked no better than corpses. Atmora has no food, no lumber, nothing. The only people still living there are stubborn old kings, drunk on their past glories, that refuse to leave. Why should we feed their delusions just so they can live out the rest of their days in relative luxury? Just because my great-great-grandfather signed a pact over a century ago? Nonesense." Harald ranted.

The steward didn't know what to say in return. She just nodded and lowered her head. "As you say, lord Harald. I will cancel the shipments and have the supplies provide for the festival."