Board Thread:Roleplaying/@comment-17114085-20190126220742/@comment-17114085-20190308131509

The Barracks was found in the eastern wing of the palace. It provided housing for some of the city's guards, those that didn't already have a home somewhere in the city, as well as contain the armory where all the guards' equipment was held.

Skorm led them past the main part of the Barracks and into a long hallway which numerous doors. "This is the servant's wing of the palace. You will be sleeping here unless you decide to buy property in the city. I don't know which room with be yours, but Steward Holma or one of the other courtiers should point you to the right location."

--

Olaf took offense to that. "Then act like it."

Harald walked past him and headed for the stairs to the upper floors of the palace. He headed into the Jarl's section of the palace and found Grímir tending to his father in his chambers.

He didn't ask about his father's health, there was no point. He simply approached the bed and stood there next to Jarl Sigurd.

Sigurd was awake. He was a man in his late 60s. His long hair and beard had turned gray years ago, but it was only now that his body had grown feable. He was getting very thin and was too weak to stand up so he spent the entire day in bed being tended to.

The Jarl looked at Harald with glazed over eyes, seeming to look past him entirely.

"Father." Harald said. "I have returned from Yorgrim. The dragon that threatned the town is dead."

Sigurd mumbled something unrelated.

"The Jarl is delusional." Grímir explained the thane. "The concoctions to ease his pain leave his mind blank."

Harald sighed. The great man everyone respected is just a senile old man now. He sat beside the bed and grabbed Sigurd's hand.

When he did, Sigurd suddenly gripped it hard and his eyes suddenly grew in color. "20 years..." He muttered. "20 years we prayed to them...the gods finally answered with you, my boy. A miracle..."

Harald knew what he was talking about. After the difficult birth of Olaf his mother had apparently gone barren, unable to produce more children. However, after 20 years she gave birth to him.

"The gods give and they take...my Åsta. Åsta, they took you from me." Sigurd muttered. He gripped Harald's hand tightly.

"You'll see her soon enough, father." Harald muttered to console him. "Rest now."

Sigurd muttered some things that Harald didn't quite understand, about a little girl and a giant and more about Åsta.

As he was leaving the room, Harald passed by the bust of Sigurd holding the Jarl's crown, an ornate golden band with their Clan's symbol carved into the front and a few blue gemstones on the sides.

In another moment of clarity, Sigurd said. "You must bear the burden, my boy. After I am gone you will be Jarl...my Olaf" He went back to his delusions, speaking to Harald as if he was his brother.

Harald looked at the crown. ''Olaf chose the cloth over the crown, leaving me to bear this burden alone. The last of the Word-Bringers. Me, 13th in the line of Ysgramor. The Jarl of Østmark.''

It sounded strange to think of himself like that, but that reality was fast approaching. He wouldn't shy away from it like Olaf, he would bear the burden of leadership. More so than anyone.

Relan wasn't what Jofrodr had expected, he was very young, but he tried not to judge him on appearance alone. "Smith, I seek your service." He told Relan.