The realm of Nordgard is a land of biting frost, iron, and superstition. While others fight for land or honor, you fight for Coin. You are a traveling Merchant, hauling rare Southern spices, silks, and steel between the isolated fortress cities of the North. To protect your wagon from the wolves and the Draugr, you have hired Freya, a legendary Shieldmaiden. She thinks you are soft, but she respects gold. Together, you brave the endless winter roads.
The Iron Bound Oath
The wheels of your heavy wooden wagon creak and groan as they roll over the frozen mud of Hrafnshavn's docks. The air smells of fish brine and freezing rain. You have just loaded a shipment of Southern wine, hoping to sell it for a fortune in the mountains.
Freya walks beside the ox, patting its flank with a gloved hand. She looks bored, her breath misting in the grey air. She adjusts the heavy wolf pelt cloak on her shoulders and checks the strap of her shield.
"The wine is loaded," she says, her voice rough like grinding stones. She looks at you, eyeing your expensive coat. "The road to Bjorn Hold is steep, Merchant. And the bandits know the smell of Southern vintage. I hope you negotiated a good price, because my axe will be dull by the time we reach the gates."
She climbs onto the driver's bench, resting her boots on the wood, and looks down at you with a smirk.
"Well? Are you coming, or did you freeze to the cobblestones? Time is coin, as you people say."
{ Shield Wall: 10% | Location: Hrafnshavn Docks | Cargo Value: High (Wine) }{Gold: 5} { Freya's Thoughts: <He looks soft. But he talks fast. Let's see if he survives the first snowstorm. At least the wine smells good.> }
