Raiding Season

[Tiglath]

Raven fusses the hunting dog “This hound has a fine singing voice to entertain us in the hall. Come, take your places in the Longhouse and I will open the Arming Room!”

She speaks to Ragnheiðr “I see that you are already well equipped as to your harness and weapons. One warrior’s good fortune favours a whole crew so I would hear the tale of yours”.

Spotting Remington going about his lawful business Raven calls to him "Many Names, I have a fine trophy taken in battle that I require to be in working condition for the feast. It will be a good omen if it is so”.

Edit: Added Remingtonism.

[The Bindoner]

Hróarr beams as his dog is praised : þefa is from good stock. His family has raided with mine for generations. I have trained him myself, not that he neded much instruction. He loves to sniff out slaves!

The young warriors are somewhat awed by the decoration of the ship, the lavish carvings, paintings and tapestry telling its history. As Raven leads them to the Arming Room they excitedly point things out to each other, but in low, respectful, tones as though in a temple.

She speaks to Ragnheiðr “I see that you are already well equipped as to your harness and weapons. One warrior’s good fortune favours a whole crew so I would hear the tale of yours”.

My good fortune, as in all the stories, is at the cost of anothers life. It is not a thing I have earned, it is another debt I must pay. My Mother's mother, a Raid Leader, was slain attacking Marduk Down last season. Grandma Eydis left me money, enough to equip a Jarl. I bear her axe, and have sworn to exact the blood-price from the Offworlders with it.

Eydis, yes, Raven knows of her. They never raided together, but she was a bold warrior. Too bold. Attacking a GeDeCo Downport was a... brave choice. She at least had a plan. The warbands were landed some distance away as though to raid coastal villages, then they trekked to the Starport. Perhaps with more warbands it would have worked, but there were not the numbers to overcome the defences.

[Tiglath]

Raven is impressed by her warband's proper reverence for the old ship.

She replies to Hróarr "Then look to þefa's needs. He needs armour he can move in and "dog boots" to protect his feet if he's searching in bad terrain ... or burned places". Then she whispers softly "Burned places..." and smiles.

To Ragnheiðr she says "I have heard Eydis' name and know her reputation. If you are to serve in my warband you will make me a promise in her name: to take your revenge feast in small bites, to make a great pile of the pieces of it that you take so that Eydis can see you standing atop it from the mead hall where the warriors go". She locks her black eyes with Ragnheiðr's green and says "Tell me it will be so".

[The Bindoner]

Ragnheiðris a little taken aback by the direct attention of Raven, but stands up to it.

Yes, Thegn, I will do as you ask. The pile will be higher than I can build in one raid, for I must do my mother's work as well as my own.

Ah, yes, Eydis' daughter. Became a trader. At least she married a Raider. Not a great one though. Never made his name. Seems the Raider gene skipped a generation in this family, because Raven sees the determination to succeed in those green eyes.

The warband picks through the Arming Room, selecting the equipment that suits them, and wondering at some of the stranger items.

[Gorethirster]

Many Names, I have a fine trophy taken in battle that I require to be in working condition for the feast. It will be a good omen if it is so”.

Given the lack of other people that comment might be directed to, Remington perks up his ears. Finding further explanation less than forthcoming, he follows Raven's guided tour at what he hopes is a respectful distance, rather than an awkward stalking distance. He still hasn't pinned down Oghman social norms on that topic. When a seemingly suitable conversational lull opens, Remington sidles up to Raven to ask for clarification.

"Pardon my interruption, but if you could clarify some things it would be rather helpful. What trophy exactly did you take that I'm to work on? Because unless you took a jump drive in a raid and have stashed it in some secret yet voluminous corner of the ship, I'm, uh, not exactly qualified to work on much else." Under his breath, Remington adds "Frankly I'm not even qualified to work on jump drives but here we are."

[Tiglath]

Raven turns to Remington and says to the warband “This is Remington or “Many Names. He is a drive shaman and touched by the gods. He collects errant void spirits in his head and so we are lucky to have him aboard. The spirits drive him to get himself beaten so that they may escape the prison of his head - you must not oblige them”.

She further explains “I own a plasma energy weapon which I took from a Sinder soldier. He had his energy weapon and I had my blade but only one of us is telling the tale!”

To Remington she says “Quieten your muttering spirits! Drives have plasma in them and this weapon has plasma in it – they are the same! When you return it in working order it will be a favourable omen for our setting forth”.

Grabbing a suitable handhold on Remington (anything that assures his heart and mind will follow) she propels him through the long hall and hands over the plasma gun.

She then pulls him forward until they are nose to nose and quietly hisses “Here’s a whole warband who now won’t beat you. Provide a good omen and less of the crew will too. Now, don’t fire it inside the ship and don’t break it or I will give up trying to stop you dying and instead concentrate on keeping you alive. I once kept a man alive for nearly a week – he wasn’t grateful”.

[Gorethirster]

Remington appreciates the point Raven is making. Assuming all goes well,none of the teenage Vikings will be inclined to beat him. His still trickling head wound reminds him of the virtues of that outcome. The problem, from his perspective, is that as he pointed out to Raven, Remington is no armorer. However, strangely enough, a PGMP is probably the weapon Remington is most qualified to work on. When Raven explains what she has, his face brightens.

"You're in luck Raven. Of all the possible trophies you could have dumped in my lap, you pick the one I'm almost qualified to work on. You don't spend as long in a physics department as I did without learning how a basic plasma generation and containment system works. The loading mechanism, on the other hand, might turn out to be a problem. In the lab you just send a research assistant to do that. We'll see how everything goes. Hopefully I can get it working, the question is whether the fix would keep in the field."

As he takes the plasma gun and turns to go, he adds a parting comment over his shoulder: "Would you let the rest of the officers know you've monopolized my time today? The drives are good to go, but if everyone dumps special projects in my lap nothing will get done. Thanks!"

As he walks away Remington realises that was probably far too informal of a way to speak to the war leader of the ship, especially in front of the kids. He hopes his status as ship madman will keep him from getting a second head wound in as many days. When he makes it back to the engineering spaces and his workbench he starts to very carefully disassemble the PGMP, taking special care to label everything and sketch/photograph how the pieces fit. Even if he can't fix it, Remington has no intention of not putting it back together correctly. That would absolutely lose him any chance of Raven covering his ass.

PGMP problem analysis roll
[2d6] = 5

[The Bindoner]

Remington carefully examines each component as he disassembles the weapon, but is unable to discern any problem. Everything seems to be intact and in working order.

On reassembly everything fits together, and the connections are sound. Mechanically and electrically Remington can locate no fault.

[The Bindoner]

The young warriors solemnly take in Ravens words about the Drive Shaman and his spirit-addled brain, then see those spirits brazenly try to goad her into doing their bidding only to be denied. The religious among them clutch their fetishes and whisper prayers. This is indeed an auspicious ship, to have aboard someone who's thread of life has been woven by the Norns into so complex a pattern, mingled with Gods and Spirits both.

When he is gone the "warband" eagerly set about selecting equipment and claiming bunks in a chaos of youthful energy. They intend to get settled then go to the Setting Forth festival, to see their families and friends again after months of training, to buy some things for the journey, and to enjoy Oghma before leaving it, possibly forever.

[Gorethirster]

Despite Remington's best efforts, as far as he can tell there just isn't anything wrong with the PGMP. Taking it apart and putting it back together hasn't shown anything that seems to be physically broken. He has no reason to think any of the other slaves have experience with high energy weapons either, so asking them for help seems like a waste of everyone's time. Reluctantly, he tracks down Raven. She's not going to like this. Bracing himself for a burst of violence, Remington makes his report:

"I'm sorry to say it War Leader, but as far as I can tell there are no mechanical defects with this weapon. I disassembled and reassembled it, and none of the components are physically damaged. Internally everything seems to be functional. That said, out of respect for the weapon's status as your trophy, I did not attempt a test firing for further diagnosis. You deserve the privilege of first firing. Lacking any obvious mechanical flaws to blame, I can only speculate that in the time since you claimed the weapon as raiding spoil, the charge pack has discharged, or whatever is vaporized to form a plasma has leaked away or dissipated in some other way. At this point I can only suggest attempting to recharge the battery, reload the vaporization material, and attempt a test firing afterwards."

As he speaks, Remington stares resolutely at the bulkhead somewhere behind and to the right of Raven. His voice is mostly level, but his body language reveals an extreme level of tension. He's wound as tight as a spring, with his arms tightly crossed over his chest and his legs smartly together. As he finishes, he looks down and somehow tenses even more.

[Tiglath]

Raven sits brooding at the end of the long hall in the company of a massive hound which is eating something’s leg.

On seeing Remington she loudly declares “Many Names, you have completed your task” and beckons him close so he can replace the weapon on its rack and to privately hear his report – which she seems to almost entirely ignore.

She speaks “Do you have belief in faith and the works of the gods Remington Many Names? I do because I have seen warriors imbued with faith perform feats in battle that can only be described as miracles. Only a warrior who has faith can produce a miracle and they can do it only if they believe. Now, I have faith that you have soothed the turbulent humours of this weapon and thereby brought about a bright and fine achievement. We will test fire it at the feast and determine if you have provided a fitting and proper omen for our setting forth. Anything less would embarrass the Jarl and myself and dishearten the warband”.

She stares unblinking at Remington and says “You look like you lack faith in your ability to perform miracles - that is not an ideal quality in a Shaman. As a war leader I must sometimes rely on faith but, given the choice, I much prefer certainty”.

She looks at Remington and says quietly “For myself, I am absolutely sure you have performed a miracle” then her eyes narrow and her lips draw back like a predator exposing her teeth.

Remington realises he’s never yet really seen her smile...

[hardrocks]

Kar will spend some time meeting the families and friends of the Warband, sharing mead and stories to any and all at the Feast.
Eagerly anticipating the singular honour of our lords attendance at the celebrations and acutely aware that he is now captain of what was once his lords ship, Kar will ensure that everyone is warm, well watered, fed and happy, on such a momentous occasion.

[The Bindoner]

Kor doesn't meet all of the warband's families, of course. The festival field is large and crowded, and there are many distractions.

The festival is the place to buy anything the that a Raider thinks they might need. Weapons, armour, equipment, slaves, provisions, blessings from the Shamans.

By midday he has made some progress though:

Kor meets the family of Sverrir ( a vehicle Gunner ). His father is one of the slave traders ( dealing in low-grade slaves on a small scale, nothing with useful skills, just menials ). His elder ( only ) sister is an experienced raider. They are eager for him to bring new, better, stock for the family business, and his sister Edda is giving him tips. Sverrir seems to be more interested in drinking Winter Ale with Erlingr than listening to advice though.

Erlingr's father is a vendor, selling armour made by others, and his mother a retired Reiver, invalided out of service before she could lead her own warband. His five siblings ( he's in the middle, his elder brothers are in trade and raid, respectively ) are here to see him off. The parents offer Kor a discount on any armour he needs, and promise to source anything they do not have.

Ingunn, the driver, is surrounded by a small clan. Her Raider father Kóri ( rank 3, Plunderer ), his wife, his Raider daughter, Wilderness Ranger daughter, Ingunn, her younger sister, his two concubines and their four children ( three daughters and a son ). Her father has spent his raiding career mostly collecting concubines and trying to get a son, rather than building status. Finally, last year, he had his son, and his delight in the infant is perhaps not entirely shared by his wife and her daughters. Her father and sister are raiding in different ships of the fleet.

Hróarr's father is a Reiver, but his other children have not followed his vocation. His eldest, a daughter, is a trader with a stall at the festival selling clothing for hostile environments. She also sells the wares of her armourer brother. It is clear that Geirr ( Hróarr's father ) is gratified to finally have a child that is following him to the stars.

Kor sees Sigmunder, the 18-year old "Corporal" leading the band, talking to Lady Vigdis off to the side. It does not look like a familial relationship exactly, but it is a familiar one nonetheless. There is closeness and distance, both.

[coastguarder]

Ridley had a flicker of mischief in his eye .... he got like this the closer he was to departure .... he didn't do with big social events but his mind was on something else .... he quietly approached Kor with as much stealth as he could muster and gentley prodded him ( Ridley wasn't very subtle of course ) with a grin and a sack full of sarcasm Might i have a word o great captin ...

[hardrocks]

With a healthy dose of deadpan.
What is it.. Number 2

[coastguarder]

i have a rendezvous with a certain local character ..... ive enquired about certain materials .... of a ...... well im guessing you understand where this is going .... given the nature of this job .. well .... i wouldn't want to bring such materials onboard without your consent .... and given what happened last time .....i promise not to use any of these children as walking detonators .... although .... ridley paused ..... this wasn't going to help his cause ...would you at least come and inspect ? .... the final description will of course be yours ....

Ridley had a way with explosives .... they calmed him .... high stress situations he seemed to thrive in .... low stress/social situations not so much ....

[Tiglath]

Raven moves among the armour vendors buying armour - emptying Hildr's stock.

She then moves to Erling's stall and buys eleven sets of leg and arm protection.

"Erling, I am the leader of an Oghman warband and will not bicker over prices like a merchant but also I'll not give folk the chance to mutter at the feast that you love your son less than other merchants because you gave a tighter price. It is my duty to protect my warband and so I'll take two Torso Protectors for this money".

She hands over the purchase price carefully counting out the amount in a mixture of Imperial Credits and "hack metal". She sifts laser cut slices of what must have once been larger objects made of precious metal and whole pieces of artless body jewelery valued by basic weight - rings, studs, even a tooth the like which would likely never be voluntarily parted from the living.

Having weighed out her price she steps back, fairly allowing Erling chance to examine the hack metal, to test it or indeed to haggle.

(OOC: She's awarded herself (and Erling) the same discount as Hildr gave).

[The Bindoner]

Erlingr's father, Einarr, watches Raven count out the payment. Registering the amount he hesitates very briefly before smiling and offering his hand to seal the deal. It is good. I am honoured my son will serve with Raven Sorrow and Kor Tollerson, your deeds exalt your names.

Erlingr's mother, Dagrún, brings a bundle wrapped in embroidered cloth, which she hands to Erlingr. With this you stood beside me as a boy to defend our home Erlingr. It may not be the weapon of a Raider, but it is an emblem of your valour. Take it as a reminder of your family, and your courage.

Unwrapping the bundle Erlingr reveals an Assault Rifle. The cloth is home-woven, and it is embroidered with a decorative border and the images of a boy and his mother shooting at fleeing raiders from the door of their house. There is a plain lower panel.

Bring it back to me with a tale to complete the embroidery.

Erlingr is both embarrassed and delighted with the gift.


The armour made by Ívarr is good quality, and highly decorated, the Torso Protectors especially. They are obviously individually hand crafted. Probably show-pieces, to demonstrate the ability of the armourer and attract commissions. As confirmation of this Hildr asks to keep at least one of each until the end of the day, when she will deliver them to the ship.

The items from Einarr are solidly constructed mass-produced items, identical decorative designs on each piece. They are typical of the armour a Jarl would equip his warband with ( though any successful raider would buy their own, decorated to their own taste ).

[hardrocks]

[quote=coastguarder post_id=502877 time=1598053853 user_id=4805]
i have a rendezvous with a certain local character ..... ive enquired about certain materials .... of a ...... well im guessing you understand where this is going .... given the nature of this job .. well .... i wouldn't want to bring such materials onboard without your consent .... and given what happened last time .....i promise not to use any of these children as walking detonators .... although .... ridley paused ..... this wasn't going to help his cause ...would you at least come and inspect ? .... the final description will of course be yours ....=/quote]

Internally sighing to himself, but knowing that with Ridley, It's better to know than not... Mostly.

"Let's go see what you have, explain it as we walk"

Gesturing for Ridley to lead on, Kar smiles and greets people as they go, drinking freely but not excessively, the night is young and he still has to pay his respects to his Lord and Lady.

[Gorethirster]

She stares unblinking at Remington and says “You look like you lack faith in your ability to perform miracles - that is not an ideal quality in a Shaman. As a war leader I must sometimes rely on faith but, given the choice, I much prefer certainty”.

She looks at Remington and says quietly “For myself, I am absolutely sure you have performed a miracle”

Remington's only reply to this is a noncommittal "hm." He walks away from the interaction fretting. Raven might have been telling him that the plasma gun was never broken, and she's making her own good omen. Or she might be another Oghman who couldn't tell the difference between an academic and an armorer and assumed Remington could fix something he only understood in theory. If the gun fired at the festival, he'd be in everyone's good graces, but if it didn't he'd be up the creek without a paddle, and it was too late to do anything more to influence the outcome of events. Remington was doubtful Raven would take well to his asking to "double check" his work, and it certainly wouldn't look good for the omen if he needed to do so.

Mulling these things over, Remington tours the festival fields as far as he's able, trying to distract himself from his worrying. There was nothing he could do now, so he might as well try to stop thinking about it.