Finn breathed the salty sea air as he steered his ship to the Villiage of Hallasholm. He had gotten a message saying he had been chosen along with a few others to make a raiding group. Finn whistler heartily as the wind blew his sail at full run and soon be could see the docks of Hallasholm. Docking his ship larboard side Finn waited till the ropes were securely tied anchoring his prize and joy the Wolfwind to the dock. Stepping off of his boat Finn left his sword and shield on his ship but carried his seax in its familiar horizontal scabbard that rested across the back of his hips in which Finn could easily draw it in a reverse grip. Walking to the scheduled meeting place, the town's local inn Finn decided to buy a drink using three of the fifteen coins of silver he had. After having a nice refreshing cup of mead Finn sat back and waited for his shieldmates to come in.

Ulfrik Æinridisson had gotten to the inn fairly early. He had arrived a day early and rented a room at the inn. Leaving his spear and shield in said room, he only had his axe and seax on his person. Dressed in brown linen trousers, and a white linen shirt, with a wolf pelt cloak over the top, he was dressed for a meeting with friends, not expecting a fight. Leaning against the bar, he ordered another tankard of mead. placing another three silver coins on the counter. "If you keep drinking at this rate, you'll be out of coin." Ulfrik chortled. "Ain't you heard, friend? I'm going raiding." He said a little too loudly, as he took the tankard he had just paid for. Taking a swig he smiled at the barkeep. "So, either I come back with enough riches to make this seem like pocket change, or I meet Odin in Valhalla, and drink from endless mead." He took a couple steps back and raised his glass. "Skålll! He said as he raised his glass before taking another sip.
Ulfrik turned to see which new friends could be made.

It had been his father who had come to him with the news of an upcoming raid, but it was his uncle who had told him to enlist so he could make a name for himself. Iórunn had agreed with his uncle. It was about time that he proved himself. While his father was a respected skáld, and he had earned his way to Valhalla through tellings of the gods, he himself knew that he’d never earn a place in the Halls of Odin like that. - No, he had to go out there and earn it through sweat and blood.
And it was so that he found himself in an unfamiliar town and an unfamiliar mead hall. He was a long way from home, having traveled along the trader’s routes by horse - which he sold the moment he arrived in town. There was no way back, he had told himself. The ship, named The Wolfwind, had already been docked and gentle swayed on the waves. It was hard to forget a sight of such a great vessel. A vessel on which he would travel and raid with his Shieldbrothers and -sisters.

As of now, Iórunn was seated near the bar, back resting against the wall as he observed his surroundings and tried to find Finnleik Oronson among the gathering crowd. Truth be told, he wasn’t sure who to look for. A man, that he knew. A man with a ship. So as his eyes still roamed the mead hall, looking at the individual faces, he brought his drinking horn to his lips and took a swig of mead. The taste was welcoming. The feeling of it warming his chest even more so. It was then that his eyes were caught by a man who loudly declared that he’d be part of the raids. Well, at least he had found one of his Shieldmates.

After a moment of reconsidering, Iórunn approached.

“Skål!” he raised his horn and flashed him a smile. Compared to the other, Iórunn supposed that he looked very much like a whelp. This man had clearly seen more battles than himself. It didn’t matter since he was sure that he’d prove himself on the upcoming voyage. Besides, it would be good to have an experienced warrior at his side, he thought as he subconsciously ran his fingers over the fletchings of his arrows.“I admire your confidence, friend. I take that you’re here for The Wolfwind as well?”

“The name is Iórunn.”

---

Katla looks around the port village of Hallasholm. She was sweaty and dirty from months of travel and sleeping with cattle, but with her newfound liberation from the smelly beasts (she had sold them at a market for a few bags of gold a few weeks ago). While she was there, she had gotten a message to come to this new town so that she might meet her shieldmates. She wonders who she might fight beside as she chews on dried meat. As she wanders around, looking for the local mead hall, she receives strange looks, but couldn’t care less. She strolls into the hall just as a somewhat burly man announces that he was going on raids. She smiles and starts her way to the counter, swinging her axe casually. She grins and makes small talk with a nearby tenant, occasionally swigging mead. The drink warms her up from the inside, but she stays focused on finding the skirl of The Wolfwind.

Leaving her twin sister behind was never easy for Yvonne, but it was especially hard when she wasn't sure how long she would be gone for, or if she would even return. There was always a risk going out to sea for a raid. No one was guaranteed to return. The sea was cruel, and men could be even crueler. With both battleaxe and shield strapped to her back, both of which had belonged to her father, Yvonne arrived at Hallasholm after a long journey on foot. She and her sister were quite poor, and so she had no horse. She was forced to make the long journey on foot, and her feet and calves were feeling the full effects of that now.

Upon arriving in the village, her first stop was the inn to ask if anyone could tell her where she could find the Wolfwind. Stepping foot inside the building, she discovered that it was rather crowded. Her small stature came in handy for once as she had little trouble slithering her way through the crowd up the bar. Yvonne leaned against the counter, brushed some stray strands of sandy-blonde hair from her face, and was about to ask the innkeep if he knew anything about the ship she was looking for when she overheard a man mention the Wolfwind. She turned to see that the man who mentioned the ship by name was already addressing another man. She didn't interject into the conversation, but she did listen intently in hopes of gathering the information she required.

Halvar had been to Hallasholm before. During his previous visit, he shortened a longhouse, turned a huscarl into a horseshoe, and set fire to a nearby river. Needless to say, the people of the village were not keen on the idea of having Halvar Jotunnson back again. But they put up with it. Partly because he was an invited guest of the jarl, partly because he wouldn't be staying long, and mainly because Halvar was a giant of a man and was well known for having a short temper and a large warhammer which he had a habit of flattening people with. As was the norm for people who were worn out from long journeys, Halvar went to the village inn to get himself a drink. The door to the inn was the ordinary size by the standards of ordinary men, so that meant that Halvar had to duck under the top of the door frame to get through. Once inside, Halvar walked over to the bar and bought himself the first of many drinks he would be having while he was there.

Erik had been preparing himself for this for what seemed like weeks now, maybe months? Finally, a chance to prove himself as a warrior. Truly there was no greater privilege in this life than to earn your place in Valhalla through the glorious raids. He made his final preparations and said his goodbyes to his family before setting off to Hallasholm. He had visited it a couple of times as a child when his father would bring Erik along to help sell fish at the market. However, this time he came as a man and was ready to set off straight away. However, food and drink was in order!

Erik had found himself a table and was happily tucking into some boar when he had overheard the passing mention of the Wolfwind. He looked over and raised his tankard to cheer from his table. "Skåll!" The young man cried out, despite his mouth still being half-full. He swallowed the bite of his meal and bought his tankard over to the people who were discussing the raid, although his long hair and lacking beard might've given off the wrong appearance. "Did someone say the Wolfwind?" While he might've spent the first night alone it would seem he has found his new shield-brothers and shield-maidens. Best to get to know them now. "Erik Sveinson." He introduced himself with a smile.

Finn listened to the conversation the two men were having , he smiled softly when they talked about his ship. He may have be biased but he always thought that his ship was the best around and the fact that they knew its name pleased him. Though the young skirl might not have been pleased if he realized his ships name was in the letter and wasn't known through reputation. Standing up Finn raised his mead and said over the roar of the tavern " Skål , all members of the raiding party meet me on the Wolfwind " he announced. Draining his cup Finn thanked the innkeeper and walked out of the local inn.

As he did Finn passed a giant of a man who had walked inside and his face paled a bit from his sheer size. if he's one of my shieldmates I pray to Njord he doesn't break the Wolfwind he thought nervously. The man was large but Finn hoped his ship could hold such weight , shaking his head to clear thoughts of cracking boards and a splitting keel Finn began to walk to his ship albeit a bit too quickly. Arriving at the WolfWind Finn sighed happily when he saw his ship unharmed , or course he knew she was probably ok but he worried about her. Regaining his composure Finn stood by his ship like he hasn't just been checking it like a little boy checks their favorite toy.

Another man joined their side, the grease of boar meat still at the corner of his lips and his eyes glimmering with a certain enthusiasm. Erik Sveinson was the stranger’s name. He looked almost out of place among the others in the mead hall. Perhaps it was the seeming preference for traveling light; only leather to serve as means of protection. Or the lack of crude weaponry, much like himself. Curious, Iórunn thought, but wasn’t allowed to think more of it as a voice boomed through the hall and had his gaze torn from Sveinson to get a better view on the Wolfwind’s owner. Alas, he couldn’t quite see him among the taller men and women. All he could see was a tuft of blond hair that moved towards the door.

With excitement and - possibly - nerves, Iórunn looked at his two new companions. First he turned to Erik, returning his smile as he spoke, “I look forward to fight at your side, Erik, but first let us face the seas and pray that Njord puts wind in our sails. Perhaps you could tell me more about yourself on our voyage, brother.”
Then he turned back towards the man he’d later come to know as Ulfrik Æinridisson. “Let us head to the docks and seek out the Wolfwind’s steersman. In the meantime, tell me your name.”” Iórunn then stepped towards the door to exit the mead hall and head towards the docks where he had seen the longship docked earlier today. While he expected the other two to follow, the archer didn’t look back to check. He was eager to get this trip started. It felt as if the gods were at their side today.

As he walked he registered little of his surroundings. Not the children running around, hollering and cheering, nor the vendors trying to get some coin off of the strangers that had gathered in their village to join the raid; not the dogs barking or the dirt and mud beneath his feet. He was in his head for most of the way - wondering what the voyage would be like. Truth be told, he had little experience aboard a longship. He’d figure it out, Iórunn told himself to calm the nerves that were starting to coil inside his chest.

Katla downs the drink and wipes her mouth with the back of her hand. She mutters the names of her shieldmates that she’s learned thus far under her breath. “Iórunn, and Erik. Easy enough.” She follows after the skirl, grinning faintly at her surroundings. She smiles at a small kid that bumps into her, then follows a hooded man to The Wolfwind. She catches up to the man, remembering that Iórunn is his name. “Are you a part of the raid, good man?”

Having finished his drink, Halvar decided it was high time he got to the Wolfwind. After taking a moment to pick up his warhammer, Halvar left the tavern and looked around. He quickly spotted the man who has called for the raiding party to meet on the boat. He looked to be standing with a few members of the party already. Halvar moved to join the others, waiting quietly for something to happen.