Vincent
Dagstygg Jarl and the Berserksgangr
Northwind, northeastern shore

Through the ice and salty sea mist came the Drakkar, the dragon headed ships of the northern clan. The men chanted as they row their oars, the drums giving tempo.

Once landfall was made, the chieftain and the apparent cartographer made quick work of using a crude map to figure out that they were somewhere in the north-east shoreline of Northwind. Somewhat less than ideal, but acceptable. Dagstygg Jarl would shout to his men, ordering them to begin unloading what they had brought and prepare to camp.
Carol
Levi Cortez
Northwind 

"One of the women could cut your hair for you." He said, helping her stand. "You might not have met any of them yet, but they wash our armor, sharpen our blades, and keep the camp tidy. Some of them war with us, but most are just satisfied with doing chore work." He said, turning and lifting the flap that kept out the cold. 

"We are going to have to get you fitted for some new clothes, though. The seamstress will take care of that. Most important right now is getting food." He said, leading her out of the tent and into the open area. 

Men lugged wood or fought with blades as they spent their morning. It wasn't time to hunt, nor was there any need for supplies. For once they were all free to spend the day enjoying themselves. Levi led Loralie through the crowd, greeting a few on the way. 

"Frederick! I need a bowl of stew for her, and a bit of meat for the bird." He said as they entered the mess tent. The smell of food had only grown stronger on their walk. 

"Anything else?" Frederick asked, bringing the plate around and looking at the young girl.
Katherine
Loralie Douze
Northwind

Loralie kept quiet as she listened to the man speak, her eyes trailing on all of the commotion going on around them as they walked. Never had she seen such a large group of strong, rugged men before. It was so blatantly different from the orphanage. She thought it was exciting, albeit a bit intimidating.

At the mention of new clothes and a haircut, the girl's cheeks grew slightly flushed. Her grey dress was tattered and worn. And not to mention her cursed hair. She would be glad to have it chopped off. Mother had constantly told her that long hair was more elegant and a symbol of status, but Loralie didn't care at this point. If her fath- if Levi suggested she have her hair cut, then she would gladly oblige.

She stared up at the rather intimidating man who was named Fredrick and watched as he walked over to her, towering over her. "Oh... I don't think so, sir," She said, wondering if she was supposed to ask or say anything else. She bowed again slightly, and though she was feeling a bit shy, she made sure to make eye contact and hold herself up straight. "Thank you, sir."

Gabriel's eyes were already honed in on the food. Loralie made sure to keep her hold on her pet tight.