Quoted By:
Sword-skill, most prized of all the arts of your people (save perhaps seafaring and navigation), lies ordinarily within the purview of the karl, the freeman, and even then only among those who deign to call themselves hersir or huscarl. Yet in certain cases ones natural gifts may be so extraordinary that they supercede the order imposed by custom and propriety. The quickness of eye and hand which might be called your gift arose out of necessity, the better to escape your uncle's swift and merciless thrashings (which, in the end, only enraged him the more). In fact, if not for the circumstances of your thralldom, whose responsibilities included service as a frequent sparring partner for the Chieftain's son, Einar, and if not for Einar's own passion for battle (a passion his father does not entirely share), your gift would have remained inert, likely perished without ever seeing its full expression. Such is our wyrd, as they say, in which nothing is straight and nothing arrived at or discovered without some contradiction.
Once your gift was revealed to you, it became your shrine and your salvation. It was not long before you surpassed the Chieftain's son in skill and had to begin holding yourself back to spare his pride. And that gap has never closed, for you spend at least twice as much time in the exercises he was taught (and which by extension he taught to you) until the "trade entered your flesh", as they say. Probably Einar has guessed your deception, for he no longer asks to spar with you as often as he used to, but that has not abridged the brotherly feeling between the two of you, who remain, even now, as inseparable as clinkers in a hull.
Today, the house is in a state of heightened agitation, for tonight an assembly will be held in the Chieftain's hall, a Thing, in which all the karls of the village and of the outlying lands inside the Chieftain's domain, shall convene to feast, to make merry, and to talk of grave and important matters. A few of the guests have arrived already and have begun setting up tents in the pavilion outside the Chieftain's hall; while inside the hall, numerous preparations are underway, food and furnishings and entertainment all judiciously arranged under the Chieftain's watchful eye. It is for such things the Chieftain lives, and so fond is he of feasts and celebrations, that it has even become a custom for the poorer karls in the village to plan their marriages to a common date, so as to better take advantage of the Chieftain's hospitality and not inconvenience him overmuch, for he always insists on being their host.
In the meantime, you are busy with:
>Scraping together bits of food for the strange old hermit who lives up the hill
>Patrolling the tents with Einar and greeting the other boys your age
>Running errands for the Chieftain's wife with the other thralls
>Write-in
