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[classynornranger]

[classynornranger]

The only song you can listen to while looking at it it's the Canach Club theme. Palawa Joko wants to invite you out. Will you accept? Sponsored by ArenaNet

[classynornranger]

Primordus - The First Dragon

Jormag , ??? , Zhaitan , Kralkatorrik  , Mordremoth

[classynornranger]

Mordremoth - The Sixth Dragon

Primordus , Jormag , ??? , Zhaitan  , Kralkatorrik

[classynornranger]

Jormag - The Second Dragon

Primordus , ??? , Zhaitan , Kralkatorrik  , Mordremoth

[classynornranger]

Kralkatorrik - The Fifth Dragon

Primordus , Jormag , ??? , Zhaitan  , Mordremoth

[classynornranger]

Zhaitan - The Fourth Dragon

Primordus , Jormag , ??? , Kralkatorrik  , Mordremoth

[classynornranger]

[classynornranger]

Wayfarer foothills - comm for yumi!

[classynornranger]

Saga of Torvi Hildidotter

Chapter (1)

Blood and Ice

The contractions were coming regularly, and harder, now.  Hilda leaned on the door frame and  blew out a long, slow breath

“Torvi…” She gasped, rubbing her swollen belly. She paused, waiting for the pain to ebb, “Torvi, go find your father. Quickly!”

“The baby?” Torvi’s eyes grew wide.

Hilda nodded and winced, preparing for the next wave. Her daughter’s eyes grew wide and she ran as fast as her six year old legs could carry her.  

Pa had taken the dolayks to the low pasture today.  It wasn’t far from the homestead and only took Torvi a few minutes to arrive.

“Papa..!” Torvi panted, “Mom…the baby…”  She struggled to catch her breath.  

Thorvid took half a second to process what his daughter was telling him. Leaving the herd, he ran down the trail,  hardly breaking pace as he stooped to scoop up his tiny daughter.

“Papa!” Torvi clung to him, “the dolyaks!”

“They’ll find their way home,” he assured her. 

“Is it supposed to take this long?” Torvi kicked her legs impatiently and squirmed on her bench.

“Babies come when they’re ready,” the midwife said as she bustled past, “They take their time.”

“Dolyaks don’t,” Torvi protested.

“This may come as a surprise, but your mother is not a dolyak,” Thorvid laughed, “Speaking of, check that ours are back.”

Torvi slid off the bench and pouted her way out the door.  Thorivd smiled after the child.  The other men of the valley had fetched the herd home, but she didn’t know that, and this would occupy the girl.

The sun had set, freezing the early spring air and leaving the sky a pale grey-pink. Torvi was impatient to have a sister.  And of course the new baby would be a girl.  After all, she had prayed to the Spirits of the Wild and even snuck off to Snow Leopard’s shrine to leave an offering.  But the baby was taking her time coming into this world.

Checking the dolyaks was busy work, she knew. Of course they were in the pen. She could hear them before she even rounded the corner.  Angie, her favorite, came up to the fence, expecting pets and treats from the child. Torvi climbed up on the fence to pat Angie’s nose.  

She sighed, wondering if her sister had arrived in the scant minute she’d been gone. From her vantage paint, she could see down into the valley.  Normally dark, the village was lit flashes of sickly blue. A chorus of distant roars and the sounds of fighting rose from the valley below sending chills down Torvi’s spine.

“Papa!” Torvi yelled, running back to the house.  

A tall figure emerged from the darkness, lumbering towards the homestead.  Torvi grabbed a stone and threw it with all her might.  It glanced off the figure’s shoulder.

“Spirits, child,” a male voice swore, “I’m no Icebrood.”

One of the valley men, Bjorn the Smith, no doubt come to fetch her father.

“You’ve a good arm, though, for one so small.” he added, smiling in spite of the wound on his side and the limp in his step.

The men spoke fervently outside for only a moment before Thorivd returned to grab his greatsword.  He disappeared behind the partition that separated the sleeping area. Torvi could hear his low voice promising to protect them and the village. 

Torvi gripped her bow, determined to help.  She was small, a human child among norn, but her aim was true, her mother saw to that. 

"No, Torvi," her father’s voice was firm yet gentle. 

“But I can help, I can shoot…”

"And that is why your duty is here, protecting your mother and the baby,” Thorvid knelt, placing his hand on the girl’s head, “I need you to be our shield." 

Reluctantly, Torvi nodded, tears glistening in her eyes as she watched her father rush into the darkness.

Hours passed. Torvi stood guard in the doorway, never dropping her bow. She wasn’t tall enough to see into the valley from her vantage point, but she didn’t dare leave.  Visions of Icebrood crawling over the roof and in through the door danced in her imagination.  

“Child,” the midwife approached quietly, “The babe is here, you have a sister.” 

Torvi nodded tensely, but maintained her position. 

“Go to your mother,” the midwife eased the bow from her hand, “I’ll stand guard.”

Reluctantly, Torvi released the weapon. The midwife probably wasn’t as good a shot, but she was tall. 

The girl peeked around the partition. Hilda sat in bed, her hair damp with sweat and her expression bordered between relief and worry. Relief won out, when she spied her older daughter. 

When Torvi was within arms reach, Hilda used her free hand to pull her oldest child onto the bed, planting a kiss on the girl's forehead.

“Astrid,” she introduced the baby, a wrinkled pink thing, fussing in her arms.

Torvi leaned on her mom and studied her sister. She was small now, but soon she’d tower over Torvi. That was fine, everyone else did, just as long as baby Astrid respected her big sister status   

Torvi held out finger, smiling as her sister gripped it tightly. 

“The battle’s subsided,” the midwife called softly from the door, “It looks like the Icebrood are retreating.”

Hilda let out a relieved sob, clutching both her children to her. It had been an exhausting night.  She knew the midwife would stay on for a few days, Breakfast would be taken care of. For now, they could rest until Thorvid came home.

By morning, Thorvid hadn't returned. As the hours turned into a day, their hope waned, replaced by a numbing dread. The following midday Bjorn returned, carrying Thorvid’s greatsword.  He held it out with murmured condolences.  Thorvid had fought fiercely by all accounts and died a true Norn, his song would be sung for generations, for what solace that would bring.

Hilda nodded solemnly, hearing her husband’s story.  She took the sword and held it reverently, before driving it into the ground in front of their home. Bjorn reached a comforting hand to her, but she pulled away.  Tears would come later, with a newborn, another child, and the dolyak herd, and the rest of the homestead, there was too much to do to mourn now.

[classynornranger]

I like to imagine this guy just...hanging out during every important meeting.

Phulnt: This is a private meeting! Who is that?

Commander: Oh, that's just Culhwch. He's cool.

Phulnt: Why is his dick out?

FLAT FUCK FRIDAY

[classynornranger]

Girl dinner or D&D rations?

Note: that is a slice of Chedder, not American Cheese. I’m a classy lady.

[classynornranger]

[classynornranger]

Hilda’s Dolyak  Stew

2 lbs of dolyak meat in small cubes (If you don’t have dolyak, beef is fine)

3 cloves garlic, peeled and smashed

2 tsp parsley

2 cups beef broth

1 lb little potatoes, cut into quarters

3 carrots, cut into chunks

½ cup peas(frozen or fresh, Canned peas get too mushy))

Brown the meat in a soup pot. Once brown on all sides add garlic and parsley.

Add the beef broth, potatoes and carrots.

Simmer until carrots are soft.

Add the peas and simmer until cooked (or defrosted, if using frozen)

Season with salt and pepper to taste.

Quick and Easy Soda Bread

3 cups flour, plus a little more

1 tsp baking soda

1 tsp salt

1 ¾ cup buttermilk*

*If you don’t have buttermilk on hand, use regular milk with a tablespoon of apple cider vinegar or lemon juice.  This also works for alternative milks, this loaf was made with almond milk.

Preheat oven to 425F

Mix the dry ingredients and make a well in the middle

Dump in buttermilk and mix. It should be fairly sticky, but not wet.  Add flour as needed.

Dump out and knead gently 3 or 4 times. Not too much.

Bake for 25-30 minutes.  It should sound hollow when tapped.

[classynornranger]

Saga of Torvi Hildidotter

Snow Leopard's Guidance

Winter was always harsh in the Shiverpeaks, but this one was especially brutal. The long, cold, dark brought predators made bold by starvation. Regardless of the danger, the homestead needed food. 

Hilda stood in the doorway, caught between the warm hearth fire and the chill winter wind. It was mid morning now, plenty of time for hunting.

“I should go,” Thorvid rested his hand on his wife’s shoulder. 

“I’m the better shot,” Hilda gripped her bow tighter. 

“We could always slaughter another dolyak…”

“We can’t afford to lose another one,” Hilda shook her head, “I’ll be fine. I’ll be home before sunset.”

“With meat,” Thorvid lightly slapped her butt.

“With meat,” Hilda planted a kiss on her husband’s cheek and stepped into the snow. 

Hours later, a scant four rabbits hung at her belt, dinner tonight, but nearly not enough. Hilda held up her hand, measuring the light; She still had a few hours until sunset, and there were moose tracks leading into the woods.

The snow here was softer, quieter, making it easier to stalk. Hilda crept deeper into the woods until she found the moose nibbling lichen from a tree. 

She nocked an arrow, raising her bow and taking careful aim. One arrow, straight to heart, a quick kill.

The Moose’s ear twitched. 

The arrow loosed just the Moose bolted. 

She was going to miss. She was going to miss and there wasn’t enough time to track another. 

A snow leopard pounced, making the Moose rear back. The arrow struck its hind quarters. Not a kill, but at least she could track it. 

It didn’t take long to find her prey. The Moose was lame, tangled in a bush and bleeding. One last shot put the creature out of the it’s misery. 

She made quick work of gutting the Moose. Laying the heart and liver out for the snow leopard still stalking in the woods. 

“Thank you, spirits of the wild,” Hilda lowered her head in prayer.

A few nearby branches made a nice litter to drag the creature back home.

The sun just touched the tip of the mountain peak when Hilda emerged from the wood. She’d be home before dark. 

A noise from the woods made her turn, knife raised. The snow leopard, muzzle bloodied, stood at the edge of the woods. It took a few steps opposite the direction of her home. When she didn’t move the leopard turned and slowly blinked at her.

Hilda took a tentative step after him. The leopard tossed his head and trotted away. 

This time Hilda followed.

The leopard melted in and out of the woods, sometimes leading her onward, sometimes appearing behind with a hiss when she started to turn back.

Eventually they arrived at a  ruined camp. Blood splattered the snow and packs were scattered here and there, some rent open spilling provisions on the ground.  In the center, where a fire should have been, shimmering, black, corrupted ice jutted out of the snow.

Hilda felt for the lives lost here, but the food from the packs would stretch her hunt for several more days. 

But the leopard ignored the packs, moving carefully around the foul ice, to a collapsed tent.  He circled the canvas, nuzzling it from several sides.  The tent emitted a small cry.  The leopard backed away, watching as Hilda approached. When she reached the tent, the leopard turned and dashed into the forest, disappearing into the fading light.  

Hilda dropped the deer, and pushed open the wreckage of the tent. A woman, her back and neck shredded and bloody curled around a bundle of cloth. The cloth moved, then cried out. 

Impulsive, Hilda uncovered a human baby, half frozen and barely alive. The tiny thing mewed weakly in her swaddling. She swept up the babe, a tiny thing in her Norn arms, and tucked under her cloak, against the warmth of her skin. 

It was well past dark when Hilda returned to the homestead, dragging the deer and the three packs on a makeshift litter. 

Thorvid was out of his mind with worry. He rushed to crush his wife in an embrace, only to have her turn away. A moment later she produced the human baby, now comfortably asleep. 

“What..? Where..?” He stuttered, gently pushing the swaddling back from the girl's face. 

“Icebrood attacked their camp,” Hilda passed the litter’s rope to him, “she was the only one left.”

“We can’t keep it,” Thorvid took the rope limply.

“Her. Snow Leopard led me to her,” Hilda assured him, “and the dolyaks give plenty of milk.”

“It..She’s a human, we can’t…” Thorvid continued to protest.

“Nothing to be done now, not until spring thaw” Hilda was already walking to their house. 

“I am going to call you Torvi,” she cooed to the sleeping baby

There would be no changing her mind.  Thorvid sighed and tugged the litter to the barn. She was right, and if the spirits willed it…

[classynornranger]

Trahearne ♡