(no subject)

By the time the party pulled into Karlsgard (sp?), we'd been followed by big flocks of ravens led by a red-winged raven the size of a dog, and we'd been attacked by a boatload of angry axe-wielding vikings. Researching leads throughout the city kept pointing us to this one powerful local, Asveig, living outside of town - the same Jarl who might've swiped this sword we were tracking down, who might have also been the same Jarl behind kidnapping a guide we were looking for, and was definitely the jarl behind the boatload of angry axe-wielding vikings.

So we went to this ornery dude's mead-hall.

When we showed up there was a drunken viking party in progress. Our plan was to show up as a bard and some mercenaries the Jarl had hired, figure out where sword and guide were, and hopefully get out of there without having to get into a huge fight. Asveig's men didn't buy our cover story and we got a huge fight instead. And then Asveig and his nice, creepy, raven-obsessed hex-throwing wife waded into combat. Asveig decided to whale on me, as the only spellcaster easily available (the sorcerer was smart enough to stay well back from melee, but I was hoping that I could keep a couple of angry vikings out of the flow of combat). And then I hit on the idea of making fun of Asveig in Skald and in his own particular, well, idiom.

I came to Asveig's house to find a sword and a guide
but found his hospitality lacking; perhaps he'll favor mine.

I found Asveig's hospitality poor,
yet I found his blows poorer yet.