Year 2950: The honored guest

[Vladim]

Scene 1: An old friend

♫ The Pathless OST-None have returned ♫

Guthred's home
The night before the Yule
Company location: En route to Black Tom's farmstead

 

It was dark outside. The hour was late. The snow was heavy-thick flakes danced in the wind, twisting and turning, before sinking to the ground, covering all in white. She wrapped her heavy cloak around her and placed her hands in her pockets, finding in one the carven trinket Ingi had given her as a parting gift. She observed the night quickly swallow up the light of their torches, and their silhouettes vanish, and wondered if they would heed her counsel, and of what awaited them in the North.

She had tried hard to put on a brave face while they remained together, but now that they had departed, leaving her utterly alone, she begun to feel something akin to despair. She tried to chase it off with thoughts of other matters. She bore no grudges-all that was done was Viglund's will, and none could deny him in his hall, and inwardly she was glad of Elfwyn's escape. But now she was left behind, and so it was to her to do what she could manage best.

She was alone-and yet not truly. She felt the eyes of the Viglundings upon her, even at this late hour, and she knew that her every move was watched. Her companions were permitted to leave, but she would not be permitted to do so that easily. Inwardly, she swore to rejoin them, even if it would take her several weeks or months. Few good things could come by remaining here.

And yet, there was some hope, for she still counted Thane Guthred as a friend here. He alone, amongst these strange peoples. She knew him, though not as well as she had wished to, and they had exchanged gifts once. Presently, she placed all her hopes upon him, for he alone could help her. She shivered with fear as she thought what else Viglund was capable of doing-something she had no desire of finding out. And so she called to her hound, who remained steadfastly by her side, and she set out to Guthred's house hastily, hoping to find better hospitality there.

[Vladim]

Idunn knocked gingerly on Thane Guthred's door. She supposed that Aestid, his ward, was sleeping still, blissfully unaware, perhaps, of what had transpired. For a while she waited outside, but at length her patience was rewarded, and she was let in.

She was glad to be out of the cold, and she shook off the snow from her cloak at the threshold, before hanging it up on a hook and taking a place by Guthred's fire. She explained what had happened. The Thane listened, shaking his head.

'Your friends have left at the most crucial moment. I hope that they can make amends. Viglund... he will not let this stand. Elfwyn was a prized thrall. Yet while you remain here, you are under my protection.' said Guthred in a hushed voice. Was it for fear of waking Aestid, or of being overheard?

Idunn nodded in appreciation. 'They had to leave.' she said plainly, and revealed no more, for she knew that the details of the task that was given them were not for the Thane's ears. Despite their friendship. Then, her hand sought her belt, and she pulled forth the precious dagger that Guthred had gifted her years ago as a token of friendship.

'Yet here I remain, and I think my purpose is plain. Thane-this was to be your son's. There has been much death already. I fear that war may be coming-war between your folk and the Beornings. I have not been here long, yet everything that I have witnessed thus far points to this. Viglund has been angered. He will seek to retaliate. Yet it need not be so. Our folk, your folk-we are all Northmen. We need not shed each others' blood.'

 

OOC

This feels like a Compel move to convince Guthred. So it's probably rolling +heart, and since she shares a bond, that's +3. Here goes:

Compel:
Dice Roll: 1d6+3 2d10
d6 Results: 3 (Total = 6)
d10 Results: 1, 3 (Total = 4)

Edit: Strong hit, nice. They do what you want, and you gain +1 momentum. If using this to Gether Information, make that move now and add +1 (but I think that's not valid here).

[Vladim]

Guthred scratched his chin whilst Idunn gave her little speech, as if growing impatient with each of her utterances. There was, perhaps, a little of the pragmatism that came with time and life experience, something that the huntswoman still lacked, given her age. When at last she had said her part, he did not reply at once, but meandered off for a while to the kitchen, quietly, for Aestid was indeed sleeping, and returned with a bottle and two glasses. He poured two generous portions and sipped, as if strong drink was needed to continue such a discussion.

'I thought you might say something like that...' he admitted at length, and sighed heavily, inviting her to join him in his drinking. 'You are as stubborn as your late cousin... A shame.' he added, and sighed again, regretting either Merovech's passing, or his cousin's stubbornness-it was unclear. 'Ah... but you guess rightly, girl... nothing good will come of this.

Viglund... He is... eh... Viglund...

I fear...'

He cut himself short, and turned to drinking again. That was as much as he was willing to say out loud, yet his mind was plain to read. Idunn joined him in drinking, thinking that, if she were to be held captive here, she might as well partake freely in this so-called Viglunding hospitality.

The rest of the night was spent speaking not of Viglund, but of Merovech, and of Aestid, of Ava and of Ragnar. And drinking... heavily. The two old friends, if indeed they could even be called that, had much to share, for much had happened in those two intervening years. But it was much too late now for plotting and scheming. Idunn herself doubted if the Thane would even consider such a dishonorable act, and she did not wish to put such a burden upon him.

Yet the seed was planted-through Viglund's actions, Gramtyng's words, and now hers as well.

But the rest was a deed for tomorrow.

[Vladim]

Scene 2: Red Yule

Outside Viglund's Great Hall
Morning of the Yule
Company location: En route to Black Tom's farmstead

 

A commotion in the early hours woke them. Guthred arose first, groggy, and with a headache, and tried to take stock of the situation. Idunn soon followed, and for most of that morning she remained ignorant and confused, and pleaded with her host to explain, yet he could not do so. He, like the huntress, knew nothing of it.

Something terrible was happening outside. The most prominent warriors of Viglund, those few hand-picked men that formed his war-band, came and went about frantically in the snow, rounding up all the thralls that lived around the great house. They were not going to leave Elfwyn's escape go unpunished. Soon, the terrible truth was clear: Viglund had decreed that the elders amongst the thralls be executed, as a deterrent to the rest. And, clearly, as a show of strength-to his peoples, but also to the free cottars that were his guests.

In vain did Idunn plead with the Thane. In this matter, he held no power over his lord. In vain did she protest. There was nothing she could do; nothing but watch in horror as everything unfolded as a well-choreographed performance, just as the chieftain had intended.

Those few poor souls that had been chosen stood in the snow shivering, poorly clad and terrified. They had once been elders of the hill-folk, weilding influence and commanding respect from their young. They had been beaten up and broken. As they stood at the scaffold, Viglund, clad in his mighty war-gear, made a speech about their crimes, full of threats, implicit and explicit, to those that dared defy him. The free cottars that had come here watched, many with dread, thinking that, perhaps, such a fate would also be theirs if they chose to oppose the war-lord in the future. They, too, could do nothing but watch.

It ended quickly and in blood. Viglund dealt the blows with his sword, painting the snow red with decisive strokes. Each one of them ended the pleading and the panicked cries from the unfortunate, doomed thralls. The less said about this the better.

That is how the great Viglund had chosen to mark the passing into the new year.

 

OOC

I think this is an Endure stress move. Idunn would suffer -2 Spirit just for seeing this; then she'd roll +Spirit (since it's greater than +Heart) to determine how she takes it:

Spirit:
Dice Roll: 1d6+3 2d10
d6 Results: 6 (Total = 9)
d10 Results: 2, 1 (Total = 3)

Edit: Wow, strong hit again. I think "embrace the darkness" makes the most narrative sense (+1 momentum). Witnessing the executions would strengthen her resolve to undermine Viglund.

[Vladim]

When at last the huntress was able to regain her composure, and restrain the seething anger that raged within her, she stood amongst few others outside, where the gruesome scene had unfolded. She clenched her fists and relaxed them repeatedly. It was cold, but the hatred that burned within her was such that she took no heed of it. She simply stared at the bloody snow in disbelief.

How could peace with such folk even be possible? Was the late Thane Merovech a fool for fighting for it? Had he known the extent of the Viglundings' corruption? And: what good could she do here now? How could she speak sense into them? They seemed beyond sense, beyond redemption.

She should have left, she should have gone with the others, Viglund be damned. The war was inevitable. Bleak, black despair filled her, and for a while she thought of escape only.

"Come. Let us go. Today is the day of the Yule. There will be feasting in the Great Hall."

Guthred's hand fell upon her shoulder, reminding her that he still stood beside her. He tried to touch her gently, as a friend seeking to hearten another, yet to Idunn the arm seemed limp and heavy. Lifeless, almost, as if its owned had lost all heart.

Feasting? Celebrations? How could such things even be possibly in his mind after witnessing the bloodshed? She had allowed herself to be convinced by Guthred's arguments before, to make allowances for the customs of the Viglundings, and to try and understand that thralldom was a necessary evil. She had hoped that her parting gift-the precious dragon-scale, the counterpart to Guthred's dagger-would have helped them. But she could no longer close her eyes to such corruption.

She turned to look up to her old friend. Straight in the eyes she looked at him, with the fires of anger at what had just been commited. "Feasting?" she said incredulously and indignantly. "Feasting? This is orc-work, Guthred, Thane of Viglund. Even the wolves of the wilds are better than this! This... this black deed... how can you condone to this? How can you stand by, allowing it to happen? How can you follow this man? How..."

She could not continue. She had no words. How could words express it? She was powerless, overcome by emotion, and confused. There was nothing more to be done. She was paralyzed.

"Be quiet!" warned Guthred, and quickly looked about them, hoping that no other stood within earshot. His tone surprised her, and snapped her back to reality. "Are you a fool? Do not speak like this openly! Do you even understand your peril?" he muttered half-angrily to her, but with great concern in his eyes.

She wiped the tears off of hers, having not realized that they were there until now. "This is exactly what he wants!" Guthred continued in whispers. "Do not give him the chance he seeks! Come! Follow me!"

She did, all the way back to Guthred's home, obeying to his counsel. Her rage still burned bright, yet she knew there was nothing to be done-nothing but listen to him. For now, at least.

"For now."

 

OOC

As the feast unfolds, Idunn would observe, looking for opportunities-perhaps to escape, perhaps chinks in Viglund's leadership. I think this counts as a "Secure an advantage" move with observation/wits, so here goes:

Secure an advantage with wits:
Dice Roll: 1d6+4 2d10
d6 Results: 4 (Total = 8)
d10 Results: 9, 4 (Total = 13)

Edit: Weak hit. +1 Momentum.

 

---

"Drinking will do you no good here!"

As soon as they had returned to Guthred's house, the Thane had hurried to pour them both something strong. Idunn had objected. Aestid looked up to her guardian; she did not speak, but seemed to wonder how come this so-called guest was so insolent. The little girl seemed to be ignorant of what had happened in the morning, and of her father's deed.

"Drink regardless!" barked Guthred back at her gruffly. It was half insistence and half command. "It will calm your nerves!"

For a moment, the huntress glared at him, as if the ward had become deeply resentful of her host. Then, she downed it all in one gulp, almost in defiance, and slammed the empty glass to the table. Her gaze seemed to say: "There! Are you content now?"

Then Guthred spoke again, urging her to take it all in stride. It would be a long day, he explained. There would be drinking, and feasting, and merry-making, and song, and speech-making, and boasting, and oath-swearing, and ring-taking, and who knew what else. All of those things would come to pass. Throughout it all, they must remain silent. Observe much, and say little. Hold onto anger, but not use it prematurely. The time for it would come. He refused to say what he meant. Yet today was not the day. Today was for Viglund. He promised to remain by her side, and protect her throughout it all. Such was his duty, for she was his guest. But he urged caution.

On some level, she understood. On another, she burned with indignation and righteousness. But she was no fool. She would watch. Study. Examine. There were gaps in Viglund's armor. The loyalty that he commanded was not as unbreakable as he would have them believe. Guthred proved it-not with his words perhaps, but she could see it in his eyes.

 

OOC

As the feast unfolds, Idunn would observe, looking for opportunities-perhaps to escape, perhaps chinks in Viglund's leadership. I think this counts as a "Secure an advantage" move with observation/wits, so here goes:

Secure an advantage with wits:

Dice Roll: 1d6+4 2d10

d6 Results: 4 (Total = 8)

d10 Results: 9, 4 (Total = 13)

 

Edit: Weak hit. +1 Momentum.

[Vladim]

Scene 3: The feast

Day of the Yule
Viglund's Great Hall
Company location: En route to Black Tom's farmstead

 

Heavy was the mood in Viglund’s Great Hall after the events of the morning. Heavy and grim. Even his warriors and staunchest supporters did not feast with the mirth of previous days, yet there was something akin to steely determination in their demeanor. They were serious, eager to prove to their lord that they stood by him, and to show to others that the Viglundings were strong. Strong and united, and not afraid to make the difficult, ruthless choices that the harsh land demanded of them. This, at least, is what they staunchly believed.

Nevertheless, things proceeded just as Guthred had predicted. There were indeed songs; there were boasts; there were oaths sworn and promises made. And there was drinking and feasting. Much drinking and much feasting… For indeed, it seemed that not only Guthred, but most of the Viglundings had turned to ale and to liquor. Not to make merry at this present hour, but as if to numb their senses and dull their nerves, and steel themselves thusly against the thrall-blood that had been shed at dawn. Their songs and boasts and conversations suited that grim mood: solemn and bold, as if meant to remind them of who they were, and to reaffirm their strength.

Idunn did her best to mingle and blend in without drawing suspicion onto her. It was a difficult task, for she stood out amongst them, and her presence attracted as much curiosity as it did resentment. The news had spread quickly amongst their numbers, and she was certain that some thought her and her companions responsible for the escape, and for the bloody morning.

On occasion, she looked nervously over her shoulder, or looked about her in troubled manner, wondering if this whisper or that jest were aimed at her. Guthred kept his eyes on his ward, but he did not remain by her at all times, for he felt that he needn’t alter his natural demeanor under these strange circumstances. That was certainly bound to raise suspicions.

Still, Idunn was allowed to go about freely, asking any questions she dared or felt safe to address to her new hosts and captors.

 

OOC

I think this would be a ‘Gather Information’ move, but I don’t think the Hound bonus applies as it’s not narratively relevant here. So straight +Wits:

Gather Information:
Dice Roll: 1d6+4 2d10
d6 Results: 1 (Total = 5)
d10 Results: 4, 7 (Total = 11)

Edit: Weak hit. +1 Momentum. The information complicates your quest or introduces a new danger. I think I know what it will be!

[Vladim]

Idunn remained seated by a man a few decades her senior. Osborn, son of Throm, was his name. It was Guthred that had introduced her to him, and though this Osborn was no Thane himself, he commanded some measure of respect amongst the Viglundings, having once been a good warrior.

The huntress felt as if treading on thin ice. She was no diplomat or emissary; she felt most at home in the woods and in the wilds, and not in this Great Hall, where the walls had ears, and where many seemed to conspire against her, behind her back. Presently, she knew that she had to muster support, and also seek an escape, but she did not know how to go about it without endangering her cause even further.

Thankfully, tradition and old customs shared between the peoples of Wilderland could inform their speech, and dictate their interaction, at least at the onset. For a while they sat, exchanging tidings from North and South. The huntress was surprised to find elder Osborn so ill-informed. He had heard few of the happenings in Beorn's lands: he knew not of Merovech's passing and of the battle with Valtar. Little that was true, in any case: for indeed, instead of the truth, mistrust had been sown here, by Viglund no doubt, against the folk of Beorn and their chief. Many were the false rumours she had to strive to dispel, though she could not say if Osborn believed her fully.

For her part, she learned much by listening: of the struggles of the Viglundings against the orcs and the hill-folk; of the death of Viglund's firstborn in combat; of the treasures unearthed in the North and of the Free Cottars and the cause of their coming. Between what was said and what was not, she could gather what was happening here in earnest, and Viglund's true purpose. Clearly, this great feast was a show of force, to convince the Free Cottars, by argument of strength or bribery, to flock under Viglund's banner.

[Vladim]

Scene 4: The duel

Day of the Yule
Viglund's Great Hall
Company location: En route to Black Tom's farmstead

 

Their discussion had been carried for less than an hour when it was abruptly and rudely interrupted by a passer-by. A young Viglunding not much older than Idunn, who looked as if besotted with ale by his conduct. His breath stank of it, and he was loud and bold, and eager to challenge this outlander.

Without any greeting or introduction, he hurled his drunken accusation against the guest, seeking, perhaps, to cause offense. "Kin of Merovech," he proclaimed, for by now word of who she was had spread, "how is it that you can partake freely of our bread and ale, and thus enjoy our hospitality, when under darkness of night you conspire to steal our thralls and foment unrest?"

Uthred barked angrily at the intruder, and for a while Idunn had to restrain her hound, who seemed eager to attack him.

"I did not steal your thrall!" replied the huntress at length, when she had pacified her companion sufficiently, so that he sat by her growling and baring his teeth, but heeding her command.

"So say you, thinking that we be fools. Yet your companions have stolen into the night like thieves, abandoning you. They lack the honor to defend you even. It seems that our thrall was much more to their liking."

Crude laughter erupted in the hall. In truth, not all attending joined in it, but a crowd was now gathering around them, and more and more curious onlookers now flocked to it. Clearly, this was deemed yet another of those festivities that should accompany a feast. As the exchange grew heated, Guthred made haste to protect his ward, but he was too late, and the crowd too large.

Idunn swallowed her pride. Her purpose here was clear, and it would not be achieved by inane insults launched against this drunkard. "We did not steal your thrall." she repeated. It was a half-lie and she knew it, yet she could not speak the truth.

Before she could continue, Guthred's voice rose from the crowd. He had managed to elbow his way halfway through it, sufficiently to now be heard amidst the raucous. "Olaf!" he cried, for that was the youth's name, "you have had too much to drink again!" There was laughter again, but the accusation did not seem to bother the man. "You forget that she is an honored guest here, under my protection. She is a blood relative to Thane Merovech. Afford her the respect such blood deserves!"

The man listened, but the proclamation did not seem to dismay him; if anything, it seemed to cause him to dig in his heels, and persist. "So say you," he asserted, "yet while Viglund is my lord and yours our customs will remain our own. No weregild for our thralls has been given-not for Elfwyn, nor the three thralls that were executed this morning. Let me then be the first to begin the process of payment, for one of them was my own, and I must be compensated for the loss: I request that this Idunn, the cousin of Thane Merovech, be my cup-bearer for the evening, as the first step towards payment of my lost thrall. Accept this, or face me in duel, if you wish to decline."

In vain did Guthred try to protest, trying to remind to this Olaf that no weregild was owed to him. His words were drowned by laughter and excitement, as the growing gathering now demanded a response to the insult, or wished to see the stranger humbled and subdued. Yet Idunn's patience was running thin. She could no longer abide these crude and uncourteous hosts, and her stubborn pride refused to yield. If they would not take her seriously, then she would force them to, and honor Thane Merovech's legacy by her deeds.

"So be it." she remarked plainly, and readied herself for some kind of contest of strength or skill, not expecting a true trial by combat with naked blades.

The circle of Viglundings tighten around them in anticipation. They were promised a feast, but Idunn had never expected to be one of the festivities. "So be it." she repeated inwardly, and made ready for the clash.

 

OOC

This looks like accepting a challenge, so I think it's the Draw the Circle move. Idunn should roll +heart; she does not share a bond with the community, so no additional bonuses.

Draw the Circle:
Dice Roll: 1d6+2 2d10
d6 Results: 2 (Total = 4)
d10 Results: 8, 1 (Total = 9)

Edit: A weak hit. I won't choose any of the boasts, so it does nothing.

[Vladim]

’Are you certain of this?’ asked Guthred, giving her a concerned look. Idunn nodded with determination. Olaf was presently readying himself, grasping his hand-axe and turning it in his hand with confidence. To her dismay, Idunn had realized only too late that this would not be some kind of game, yet she could not back down now.

’Very well.’ said Guthred, and passed her a spear as the crowd roared in anticipation. ’May the strength of the late Thane be with you, then.’

 

---

 

The two combatants circled each other nervously in the boisterous circle that the Viglundings had made for them. Idunn could hear all the boasts and insults and crude jests launched, and of bets being placed, and of coins clanging together, but she paid little heed to any of it. Olaf had tried to intimidate her, fainting a charge on more than one occasion, but every time he did, she lowered her spear, and that kept him at bay, but he had laughed at her reaction, seeing it as fear. Then, eventually, his patience grew thin, and on the third time, he did not feint, but attempted to close the distance, and thus take full advantage of his shorter weapon.

Yet the huntress had not grown complacent, despite his earlier tricks. She lowered her spear readily again, and the man hesitated, and that hesitation afforded her an opening, allowing her to strike at the man’s shoulder. The spear-head was stopped by his mail coat, but he grunted in anger and pain. Idunn saw another opportunity, and swiftly she swung her weapon against her opponent’s legs, attempting to trip him. The shaft of the spear connected with a loud thud, yet her strength was such that she could not down the man. Instead, Olaf turned his blade towards it, and with the axe-beard he hooked the shaft, and with a mighty pull he yanked her weapon out of her grasp.

He smiled the self-content smile of victory. Idunn stood unarmed, with only a small distance now between them, and Olaf readied to strike at her with the poll of his axe. A small mercy, for a man of his strength could still cause grievous injury even without resorting to the blade. The crowd cheered him on, but as he stepped forward, the huntress leapt out of his reach with the grace of a doe, and swiftly recovered her weapon. Instantly, she poked at him; he turned to her in disbelief, still standing, beaten but holding onto his strength, and let out a cry of frustration.

As he swung his axe, she tried to get out of harm’s way with speed, but it seemed that her luck had ran dry, and the poll struck at her thigh. She clenched her teeth, suppressing a cry of pain, and adjusted her grip, so that she could still thrust at such diminished distance. The man had not expected this, and was unprepared against her blade. The spear-head darted like a stroke of lightning, and this time it did draw blood-from his forearm. Not a dangerous cut, but enough to stun him. It was only a moment, but she needed nothing more: his guard was down, and her spear ready; using it as a staff, she swiped it directly against his face, and listened with satisfaction as the blow connected, knocking him down. At greater distance, with greater leverage, such a blow would have surely knocked a few teeth out. At this short range, it did not, but it would certainly give him a black eye, and pain enough to remember her for at least a fortnight.

The fight was over. Silence filled the hall.

 

Mechanics

Ok, let's resolve some combat mechanics. I'll rank Olaf as a dangerous foe: 2 progress per harm; inflicts 2 harm.
First, we start with the Enter the Fray move, rolling +iron.

Enter the Fray:
Dice Roll: 1d6+3 2d10
d6 Results: 1 (Total = 4)
d10 Results: 1, 2 (Total = 3)

Edit: Strong hit. Idunn has initiative. +2 Momentum.
Second, she can Strike with +iron.

 

Strike:
Dice Roll: 1d6+3 2d10
d6 Results: 4 (Total = 7)
d10 Results: 9, 8 (Total = 17)

Edit: Ouch, a miss. I'll burn her momentum to ignore that 8 on the challenge die, turning it into a weak hit. Her momentum resets to +2 and she inflicts her harm (2), but she loses initiative. Olaf's progress bar now looks like this:
■■□□□□□□□□
Third, she can now Clash (not Strike) with +iron.

 

Clash:
Dice Roll: 1d6+3 2d10
d6 Results: 3 (Total = 6)
d10 Results: 2, 10 (Total = 12)

Edit: A weak hit. She inflicts her harm (2), but has to Pay the Price. Olaf has initiative. His progress bar is:
■■■■□□□□□□
Fourth, she must Pay the Price. I'm going to make two options possible: that she is disarmed (likely), or that she must Endure Harm. Then I'll ask the Oracle.
Fifth, I am asking the Oracle. 26+ she loses her spear, and her harm becomes therefore 1. 25- she must Endure Harm.

 

Ask the Oracle:
Dice Roll: 1d100
d100 Results: 75

Edit: Ok, she loses her spear. Her harm is now only 1.
Sixth, she will try to Face Danger to recover her spear. Speed and agility make most sense, so it's a +edge roll:

 

Face Danger:
Dice Roll: 1d6+3 2d10
d6 Results: 4 (Total = 7)
d10 Results: 1, 6 (Total = 7)

Edit: Strong hit! +1 Momentum and she gets her spear back.
Seventh, now she can Clash again and inflict 2 harm on a hit.

 

Clash:
Dice Roll: 1d6+3 2d10
d6 Results: 4 (Total = 7)
d10 Results: 8, 4 (Total = 12)

Edit: A weak hit. She inflicts her harm but must Pay the Price. Olaf's progress bar is now:
■■■■■■□□□□
Eighth, I'm going to say that the Pay the Price is going to be the most obvious thing, which is Endure Harm. She must suffer -2 health and then roll +iron:

 

Endure Harm:
Dice Roll: 1d6+3 2d10
d6 Results: 6 (Total = 9)
d10 Results: 9, 6 (Total = 15)

Edit: Weak hit. She presses on.
Ninth, let's Clash again (she still doesn't have initiative):

 

Clash:
Dice Roll: 1d6+3 2d10
d6 Results: 4 (Total = 7)
d10 Results: 2, 5 (Total = 7)

Edit: Strong hit. She takes the initiative, inflicts her harm (2) and finds an opening (+1 harm). Olaf's progress bar becomes:
■■■■■■■■■□
Tenth: Time to try to end this. Let's roll the challenge dice and compare to the progress bar:

 

End the Fight:
Dice Roll: 2d10
d10 Results: 5, 4 (Total = 9)

Edit: Strong hit. Wow. That was long but fun. I'm going to rule that they are knocked out or surrender. I'll write the narrative later, but I think it's also time to Reach a Milestone in her starting vow. Perhaps the win buys her some respect from the Viglundings, making her escape easier.

Final edit on the mechanics: Seems like I got some things wrong. First, on Dangerous adversaries, each unit of harm is 2 progress, not one, so this could have potentially ended sooner. Second, whenever you gain a strong hit, you take back initiative, so she could have gotten it back after recovering her spear, and ended the fight then and there.

Still, I think this outcome is reasonable, so let's go with it!

[Vladim]

The huntress backed away warily from the downed Viglunding, lowering her weapon as she assumed a more favourable position. She did not know if her opponent had any other tricks up his sleeve, and so she remained at the ready, but at length it was evident that the Viglunding had had enough. "I have you at spear-point." she said eventually. "The game is at an end."

The man remained silent, still seated on the ground, rubbing his head with his palm as if to dull the pain of that last blow. He spoke not, neither to accept his defeat nor deny it, but at times he cast angry glances at her from his position.

 

"You may now make a lawful request of him." interceded Guthred, who had been watching, and was no doubt as surprised as anyone else, Idunn included, that she had emerged the victor. "Such is our custom."

The huntress paused to think. In truth, she wished nothing of the youth but to be left alone. Yet before she could name the spoils of her victory, the suggestions from the assembled crowd came in shouting. First one, then another, until a drunken cacophony of outcomes, all of them humiliating for the defeated, were made.

It seemed that the most popular idea was to make him Idunn's cup-bearer for the night, as he had requested of it. But the huntress needed no such services. And besides: even if she did earn a cup-bearer, could she trust him not to taint her drinks? Unlikely.

By now the pain of the blow she had been dealt was beginning to be felt. It stung, and she hoped that no bones had been broken. Slowly, she relaxed her aggressive stance, and leant on the spear-shaft like an old man would on a walking-stick, and limped towards him. She offered an outstretched hand, and when at length her felled opponent accepted it, she aided him up. Then, she spoke.

"I have no request, yet let this be my boon: let me tend to your wounds. 'Tis easy to insult and injure. Much harder is it to heal. I have no ill-will towards you, nor do I wish for a servant or slave. Are we not all Free-Folk?"

 

OOC

Seems like a heal move. Rolling +wits:

Heal:
Dice Roll: 1d6+4 2d10
d6 Results: 6 (Total = 10)
d10 Results: 4, 5 (Total = 9)

Edit: Nice, strong hit! Definitely a few things I can do with this.

[Vladim]

By now most of the crowd had dissolved. The rowdy Viglundings had returned to their drinking and feasting, having grown weary of this scene, leaving Idunn to deal with Olaf's injury. The youth sat begrudgingly by her, unsure of what to make of it. His injuries still stung, but it was his wounded pride that caused him most grief.

The huntress tried not to dwell on his silence or resentment, and remained focused on the task. She was a skilled healer; all Wood-folk were, as it was necessary for their survival. She tried to staunch the blood with careful movements, but she had not the skill of Radagast or her elders. The Viglunding flinched in pain at her mistake, but still remained too aloof to complain.

"'Tis only skin-deep." she said in response, as if to reassure him. "It won't be long now." For a while she fell silent, and returned her attention solely to dressing the injury, and to pondering if there was anything of merit to pursuing such a one-sided conversation. But her elders had taught her that it was good practice to speak under such circumstances. It took one's mind away from the pain, and that made a healer's task easier. So she continued.

"Forgive me for cutting you. Your onset frightened me, and I am still unaccustomed to the traditions of your folk. I did not expect a formal duel." The man remained stubbornly silent, despite her apology, which was genuine, but he nodded faintly in acknowledgement. The huntress was beginning to break the ice. So she continued. "I have not even introduced myself. I am Idunn, daughter of Theodwin, of the Wood-folk that dwell in the eaves of the Great Forest." She still did not wish to speak of Firienseld, the Hall within the Mountains, from where she hailed. Not all folk knew of its existence, and such secrecy had served the Mountain-folk well on many an occasion.

"I know who you are." said he gruffly. "You are the kin of Merovech, Thane to the Beornings. Some of his strength must flow through your blood, else you would not have been able to defeat me."

The huntress smiled at the half-hearted compliment, knowing full well how much it must have pained him to admit it. "And yet it was not through strength or valour that I gained the victory, but through cunning and speed." She smiled, and inwardly she questioned the wisdom of her playful remark, but it was the truth, and besides: even if she did offend him, she had little to lose here.

"We must fight again," was all that Olaf could muster in response, and he continued, eagerly: "for had I known that you have such skill with the spear, then I would have pressed my advantage, and not been so soft to you, even though you are a woman. And we should both use spears next time, for it is far too advantageous a weapon against the sword or the axe."

Idunn smiled, and mustered all her strength to suppress her laughter. This man was proving to be quite the sore loser, but he seemed to be serious about it all. At length she finished applying the last of the bandages, only a minute or so after hearing his request, and replied: "I fear that there shall be no more fighting for me for a while..." she said, rubbing her bruised thigh, where the Viglunding had hit her. "...and yet I still do not have your name. Have I not earned that at least?"

"I am Olaf, son of Ulf." replied he plainly, and made ready to rise. "Come with me. It is our custom to share a drink with one's foe after a duel. After or before, yet in our case it will have to be the former. Come!"

[Vladim]

"It is your custom to drink at any occasion and at every opportunity!" thought the huntress as she followed Olaf, wondering how many of these folk maintained their sanity after years of drinking thusly, yet she was wise enough not to speak her thoughts. And indeed, she did not protest, for she knew that while she remained under Viglund's roof, she would have to follow his ways.

Jest and teasing remarks accompanied them wherever they went, but now Olaf was the butt of them. He seemed to take it all in his stride, returning them with cunning comments of his own, which surprised her greatly. For he seemed not to mind such things if they came from the mouths of his fellow Viglundings, or at least he could pretend not to mind with considerable skill. It stood in stark contrast to his earlier reaction to her words.

At length they made their way to a table and asked for-what else-ale. The huntress was not even able to place her own request; indeed, it was Olaf who called for ale for the both of them. Drinking seemed to quickly loosen his tongue, and he spoke and spoke, commenting on this Viglunding or that. Before the huntress had been able to get through her first ale, he had drank three, but at least she learned much from the exchange.

[Vladim]

"You struck me with the blunt side of your axe," said the huntress halfway through their conversation, "why was that? You might have gained the victory had you shown no mercy."

"I did not wish to mar the occasion by shedding blood." replied Olaf, and raised his cup to drink again, before wiping the foam on his lips with the back of his hand.

"Yet blood has been shed regardless..." said the huntress grimly, and looked at him. He seemed confused, and retorted by saying that the cut that she had given him was only superficial; she had to further explain that she did not mean that, but was speaking of the morning's executions.

"That was thrall-blood." explained Olaf, as if the slaves slain were not Men, but beasts. "A shame, for one of them was my own. Yet Viglund is a just chief, and he will compensate me with another. Of that I am certain."

The woods-woman stirred uncomfortably at the words, but she made nothing of it. What good would it do? Their ways were set. She had argued endlessly with Guthred about thrall-taking, and even after all that had happened, she remained uncertain if the Thane had changed his mind. She had no hope of changing Olaf's. So she changed the subject instead, and spoke of Merovech, her late cousin.

It was revealed that Olaf knew of him, for he had visited the Viglundings in years past, and spoken to some of them, and the slain Thane had struck some, Olaf included, as a man of honor. For a while they spoke of him, for Olaf had not heard that he had been slain, and at the news he shook his head, and slammed his fist angrily on the table, and cursed the orcs and the evils that lived beneath the mountains.

Idunn spoke of how great a huntsman Thane Merovech had been, and that she was determined to see things through, so that his duty would be fulfilled, so that he could rest easy. "I too am a huntress to my folk, for I have lived in the eaves of Mirkwood, and many were the times that I ventured deeper still, to seek quarry to feed my kin." she boasted, but said no more, for she did not want to reveal further details. "I am a guest here; I hear that hunting is one of the ways in which the Viglundings prove their skill, and yet I have seen no-one venture far outside. Will you not take me? I wish to test my own ability against your best."

 

OOC

Seems like a compel move with +heart. Here goes:

Compel:
Dice Roll: 1d6+3 2d10
d6 Results: 6 (Total = 9)
d10 Results: 6, 4 (Total = 10)

Edit: Strong hit, +1 Momentum.
Edit 2: Oops, heart is only +2. Still a strong hit though!

[Vladim]

"Skilled you may be," said Olaf, "yet skill will avail you little in winter, when all things are asleep." He looked about him, as if trying to locate someone amongst his kin-folk, and at length he added: "Yet honor demands that I grant a boon to you, and what you have already asked of me does not benefit you. Let it be this, then. I will take you hunting, as you wish, yet not today, for we cannot miss the celebrations. Tomorrow we hunt."

She nodded in agreement as he rose up, and sought to attend to other matters, and the two parted, if not as friends, then certainly not as enemies either, for they seemed to find some common ground between them. As for Idunn... she had not been entirely disingenuous. Under other circumstances, she might have shown a similar interest in hunting, but that was not what had been on her mind when she made her request. Such an opportunity would be perfect to learn the lay of the land, and prepare her escape. Even if they found no quarry, the hunt would be for her fruitful.

But now she had to tend to her injury. Her leg was giving her much pain. She retreated to privacy as best she could and sought to examine the damage that had been done.

 

OOC

Another heal move, but this time with +iron, as she's self-medicating:

Heal:
Dice Roll: 1d6+3 2d10
d6 Results: 3 (Total = 6)
d10 Results: 3, 7 (Total = 10)

Edit: Weak hit. +2 Health, -1 Supply.

[Vladim]

There were no special private quarters in which to retreat to in the Great Hall, and so Idunn was left to seek Guthred's dwelling again to tend to her wound. She limped her way there, leaning on the spear the had been given, and eventually reached it, and sought the room in which she had slept the night before. There, at last, she had the time to inspect her bruised thigh. It was badly beaten up, all black and blue, and painful to touch, yet thankfully, no bones had been broken. She did the best she could with it, though there was not much to do, using the supplies she had been carrying throughout the journey. At least she could numb her pain.

Guthred was not present. He had to attend the feast, much like the rest of Viglund's Thanes. But Aestid, his ward, Viglund's daughter, remained here, having avoided the Great House this far. She would not be able to do so indefinitely, and Guthred had promised to accompany her for the main event.

 

Idunn had found little time to speak to the girl. She had grown much in the few years since she last had seen her. She liked her, and for a while they spoke about the Beornings she remembered from her stay in those lands, and of Ragnar, the son of Merovech. She did not have the heart to speak of her cousin's demise, yet Aestid's mind was keen, and she seemed to sense that something had happened. The huntress felt sad for the girl, but still said nothing, thinking it best to protect her.

At length it was time to leave Aestid and return to the Great Hall. Yet she had some time before the main celebration would start, and she was alone and unattended at present. She knew that she would still be watched, but in principle she was allowed to wander outside freely and as she pleased. She decided to take this opportunity to observe the sentries and the layout of the settlement. Such information would prove useful if she sought to escape soon.

 

OOC

I think this is a "Secure an Advantage" move using observation, so rolling +wits:

Secure an advantage:
Dice Roll: 1d6+4 2d10
d6 Results: 6 (Total = 10)
d10 Results: 7, 8 (Total = 15)

Edit: Strong hit. +2 Momentum.