Board Thread:Roleplaying/@comment-17114085-20190126220742/@comment-17114085-20190326191753

"At least she's no Orc." Bodvar muttered. He gestured for the other Ylgermet hunters to spread out and continue to search for that Orc patrol that they came to kill.

"Jof, Reyl, you came with me." Bodvar ordered. He went over to confront Kal. As he walked up to the young woman, he kept his hand on his sword's hilt.

The lass looks younger than Reyl. Bodvar noted.

Tiskr could try to follow the tracks from the bodies of the Orcs that Hans had killed, though it wasn't easy to see were the tracks led. Hans' own tracks were mixed in with those of the dead Orcs.

"Chief Bakel, the red woman is at the gates." One of his scouts told him.

The Orc chieftain was sitting on his throne, a structure make of wood and bones. Only some of those bones were from animals.

The chief didn't look happy at the news. He grunted angrily and tossed his horn of stolen ale against the wall with enough force to shatter it.

--

Lamush had felt eyes on her long before reaching the gates of the stronghold. On the narrow snowy paths up the mountain she had seen movement and heard Orcish signal horns. It was obvious that the Akul Khazak stronghold knew that she was coming and let her go up unopposed.

The stronghold was built on the northern side of Mount Sheave, atop a cliffside plateau that connected the mountain with another smaller peak. It was surrounded by a wooden pallisade and walls made from stacked rocks.

From the walls banners flew, showing the banner of the stronghold. It was a pale flag with three spikes tied together in the middle, most likely symbolizing the stronghold's pallisade against the snowy mountainside.

The place didn't look too large, maybe 1-2 hectares at most. She couldn't see the inside, but the top of what was probably the Chieftain's Longhouse was visible over the wall.

The main gates was guarded by two wooden watchtowers where Lamush could see archers pointing their bows at her.

It was about a week after Harald's return to Vindhelm from Yorgrim that tragedy finally struck. Jarl Sigurðr subcome to his illness. He went to sleep one night and never woke up again. Harald was the first to hear the news, Gripir told him himself.

"Sorry to interrupt, milord, but...it's your father. I'm sad to say that his soul has left for Sovngarde." The old mage said after being allowed into the thane's chambers.

Harald was barechested, with only some furs he grabbed from his bed covering his nakedness. He stood grabbing the now open door to his room.

The nobleman felt a surge of emotions roll over him. "I...I see. Have you told Olaf?"

"Not yet, milord." Gripir replied.

Harald nodded. He turned back to his bed, where a red-faced maid was sitting up and covering herself with his bed furs. "You may go." He told her.

The maid slipped out from under the furs and hurried to pick up her torn clothes from the floor beside the bed. She covered herself as best she could and ran by the two men on her way out of the room.

"I must get dressed. I'll tell my brother myself." Harald said.

"As you wish, milord. I will attend to the body until the Fox Priests arrive." The mage said. With a bow he headed off.