Ronald
**Jarthec - Mayrrif's Mansion**

The gate came apart and the warriors poured into the courtyard, followed by a deluge of people. The Townsgard formation was initially hacked apart by the Ismordian vanguard, then trampled upon by the angry mob. Jarthec tried to escape, but he found himself trapped by the same defensive measures he had put in place: the mansion had only one main entrance, and the fires had made the secret tunnels inaccessible. To make things worse, Jarthec's shabby old body was unable to outrun the tide of villagers that were after him.

Right when he was about to be caught and torn to shreds by their fury, someone lifted him up by the cape and above the livid masses. He felt no respite. There was only one person who could've lifted him this high...
Vincent
Dagstygg Jarl
Mayriffs Mansion

"Do not try to run. You will only die tired."

He held the man by the back of the neck and tossed him onto his knees infront of him, before grabbing him by the hair and forcing him to look to the croud before lifting his arm to silence the them and speak

"Behold your worm, men of Northwind! As any scavenging beast, when the true hunter rears its fangs, it's place on the food chain becomes evidently clear! This town, and its people are *My* Subjects until the knights of house koern return... Only then will the fate of this town be decided. Once they come, I will call for an Althing! A meeting of order and speech, but in the time until then, there will be work to be done! I entitle the people of this sunken rock to the stolen riches of this worm, in return I may ask of you all a favor, and I hope that my actions will be repaid in gratitude, and that you will see this favor done!"

*He blows into his horn to signal the end of a battle, his men banging their weapons against their shields and chainting his name*
Katherine
Loralie Douze
Northwind

Loralie had shot a few more arrows in the span that Levi was gone, though she was a bit confused as to why she was doing so. Perhaps he wanted to make sure the bow was a good fit for her?

The troubeld look in his eyes before he left had burned into her mind, and it made her confused. Did she perform too well? Was he realizing he didn't want her after all? The doubts swirling in her mind made her have a sick taste in her mouth. She lowered the bow. He had left very quickly. And she had felt his gaze on her change.

She saw him coming back, and she straightened her posture as she lowered her bow. Most of the arrows she had shot while he was away were next to their target's bullseye, but after a bout of nervousness Loralie had sent a few that barely hit the target in an attempt not to seem so adept. She knew she was did something wrong, something to make Levi leave, but she couldn't tell what it was.

She gave Levi a small smile as she waited for him to walk closer, not knowing what to say and not wanting to speak in case she made another mistake.
Ronald
The Ex-Mayrrif
Marmot's Cradle

Jarthec spat at the Jarl's feet and mocked the assembled town in a final act of defiance:

"You imbeciles! All muscle and no brain! The river path is clogged, your precious ships are trapped! And you! You ingrate rats!" He raged at the townspeople. "You're dead without me! One month! One month before y'all starve without my guidance! But you won't last one month! No! The palisade is broken! You blew it up hahahaaaa! Now you will die tonight! You die! You die!"

He laughed like a madman. The fear was gone, as was his fighting spirit. All that remained was, as the ranger had said to Dagstygg: Northwind's spite. That bitter, venomous, all-consuming spite.
Vincent
Dagstygg Jarl
Marmots cradle

The Jarl would rear his boot back into the mans face before ordering his men to drag him away. The best place these men could stay would likely be the courtyard of the mansion, where they would likely set up camp. For the time being, he would order his men to tie the former Mayriff to a post, for the Ísmoðirians would have him disposed soon enough. Dagstygg whispered to his highest ranking soldier, Blóðlaug. A name quite literally meaning "Bloodbath.". She would turn and raise her arms to the people, calling to them

"The vulture will be sacrificed to the gods of our people at dawn!"
Ronald
**Marmot's Cradle**

Some people cheered, but most were hesitant. A few had even ran to the broken palissade, trying to cover the enormous breach with a makeshift barricade.

"I don't know if we will survive the night. This territory is infested with Fellhounds. As soon as the sun sets, they will fall on us like a tide and leave only our bones."

"Perhaps you should be using that furniture to barricade the houses." Said an old lady. "The wall is done for! There's no saving it. The homes at least are defendible."

But there was no coordination. Some were nailing planks to their windows, others adding bricks to the barricade. Some tried to convince the ismordians to help them, but due to the language barrier, what they wanted wasn't excatly clear.

"You did this!" Said one of the villagers to the Jarl. "You have to help us!"
Vincent
Dagstygg Jarl
Marmots Cradle

"Quit nailing your doors, you fools. Only a small portion of the wall is damaged and I will have a full garisson here within a day, any unfortunate souls who try to take a bite out of this place will be destroyed and their corpses hung on poles along the border of the town. Whatever parts of the wall that are damaged will simply make those who try to attack us underestimate us, they will not be ready. My over one hundred men will easily be enough to guard such a town from a few raiding parties... And once the other eight hundred and ninety or so arrive, we will be untouchable. We are moving further south anyhow, and the rest of the fleet will be coming down this way at my call."

The Jarl turned to Blóðlaug and leaned in to whisper to her, just inaudibly saying a sentance that causes her to reel back in shock.

"Ég vil að þú sendir tvo hrafna, annan í norðurbúðir okkar og hinn til heimalands okkar. Við erum að kalla eftir ...*Henni*..."

Once she hears this it doesn't take long for her to respond. The color fled from her face and her pupils shrunk in fear. What could possibly inspire such a level fear in a cold blooded Vikingr like herself? 

"Jarl minn...þú meinar ekki-..."

The man growled and leaned back up before barking at her with a stern voice, he was nolonger asking. He was commanding.

"Það er mín pöntun! Gerðu það nú!"

Translated:

"I want you to send two ravens, one to our northern camp and the other to our homeland. We are calling for... Her..."

"My Jarl, surely you do not mean-"

"That was an order! Do it, now!"
Lillian
Herin Farensun
Off the coast of Marmot's Cradle

Herin sat in his cabin, watching a candle on his table burn away as the flame swayed back and forth with his ship. He had been at sea for weeks, traveling from the Southern Isles to Northwind to meet with the Mayriff, one of his soon-to-be former business associates. It wasn't that he especially disliked the man, not enough to stop business with him, that was for sure, but they had recently found new markets farther south, and well, he just didn't pay enough to bother sailing up to fucking *Northwind* Of all places to unload their cargo. Besides, anyone who called themselves 'Mayriff' was clearly a poor business partner. 
Truth be told, Herin was moving more and more men away from so-called 'side trades', or anything that didn't directly attack the power of House Maith, and sending men so far up north couldn't be rationalized when you were preparing for war. The project was finally showing results, the old man had said he could complete it within four months, and that meant that Herin would finally be able to put years of planning into motion. 
He could almost envision it in his mind's eye, the destruction of everything Maith had built, the 'pirate king's' head on a pike, his corpse torn apart and thrown to the sharks, and Herin ruling over a truly free Southern Isles. Yes, all the works of Maith would be consumed by-

"FIRE OFF THE PORT BOW!" Came a yell from above. A sentry had spotted something, and the alarm bell was ringing. Herin rose from his seat and threw open the door to his cabin, and walked calmly up the steps to the deck. As sailors ran about around him, rushing to stations and preparing for combat, Herin was the image of calm in a sea of panic. He stood, hands behind his back, and looked towards the shore, where a village burned. 
"Captain, that's the-"
"Mayriff's village, yes, I'm aware of our current position." He snapped at the man who stood behind him, the second mate of the ship, a man he trusted more than most, but not the brightest fellow. 
It would seem his business with the Mayriff was already concluded, he prepared to give the order to turn around, but then he noticed something, the boats docked in the harbor, they were like no ship he had seen before. Well, perhaps this trip might not be a complete waste after all.

"Signal the ships to stop." He gave the order, and it was relayed, his men signaling to the other two ships following them to drop anchor near shore. 

"Sir? What's the plan?" His first mate asked. He was a clever man, the reason Herin promoted him in the first place, but even he couldn't guess what Herin was planning half the time.

"The plan? We surrender, of course. Raise the white flag, we want the new rulers of the cradle to know we come in peace." Though no one could see it, under his mask Herin was smiling.

Herin's turned towards the burning village, white flag raised, weapons lowered, and Herin standing near the prow. As they came closer, Herin could make out more details of the ships in the harbor, and caught sight of what he assumed were their owners. Warriors standing a head taller than the average man, armed with spears and axes, standing amongst the ruins of the town with not a care in the world. 

"HO THERE!" He shouted, as a few of the warriors near the beach turned to look in his direction. "WE COME IN PEACE!" 

For a moment, it seemed like they would greet him with a volley of arrows, but instead they simply watched as he climbed into a small dinghy with a group of his men, and rowed to shore. So far, he thought, so good.
As he got closer to the docks, he got a better image of exactly how large the warriors were. Whoever these people were, they were not from anywhere he knew. 
"May I speak to the man in charge?" He said as he stepped ashore, the men in front of him grumbled between themselves, before lowering their spears slightly. 
"Only you." One said, gesturing to his men in the boat.

Herin stood in silence for a moment, considering his options, then spoke. 
"Fair enough, take me to your leader gentlemen." 
Without another word, the men grabbed him by his shoulders, one taking his sword, and walked him through the burning streets of the town. He saw the destruction these people had wrought, and began to wonder what exactly happened here. He'd have to ask the leader when he finally got to speak with the man.

As if on cue, they dragged him before a massive warrior, even for these people, and shoved him forwards. Herin stumbled, and the men spoke.
"Jarl Dagstygg, this one comes from the sea, he says he comes in peace, and wishes to speak with you." 

Herin looked up at the massive figure before him, and bowed his head slightly. 
"Jarl... Dagstygg, is it? Allow me to introduce myself, my name is Captain Herin, of the Hanged Raiders. May we speak?"
Vincent
Jarl Dagstygg
Vikingr Occupied Marmots Cradle 

"My Drengr here says you come from the sea... And you call yourself raider. And I was told I would find no friends in a land such as northwind..."

The Jarl stood up from his mound of corpses he was sitting on and stepped over to the man

"Já. We can speak. But to what do I owe the pleasure?"
Lillian
Herin Farensun
Vikingr Occupied Marmots Cradle

"As I said, my name is Herin, captain of the Hanged Raiders. And I assume you are the leader of these warriors?" Herin gestured to the destruction around them
"I'm impressed, your people certainly know their way around a battlefield. Though, if I may hazard a guess, you aren't from around here, are you?"
Herin gestured to the hole in the wall, the panicking townsfolk were trying to throw together a makeshift barricade of furniture, though without coordination, it was nothing more than a pile of splinters and false hope. 
"Because if you were, then you'd know that destroying a wall of a Northwind village isn't a good idea if you want to stay overnight. The previous owner of this place was quite proud of those walls, told me once they'd been built to survive the wrath of the gods themselves." Herin chuckled, his mask giving his laughter a metallic resonance. "Apparently they should have been built to survive the wrath of you." 

Herin watched as an two men tried to push a table on top of the mound of refuse pilled in the hole in the wall. One slipped, and the table fell on top of him. "Either way, once sun falls, this village is doomed, and I doubt you want to see what Northwind is home too, I sure don't."
Vincent
"No. My men and I are from lands north of the Island chain your people call 'The Witherlands'. We call our homeland Ísmóðir, Icemother in your tongue. I'd wager if we can handle the beasts of those lands, we can handle the ones of this place as well... Unless, there is something I must be aware of."

He leaned foreward slightly with a questioning look on his face as if he waited for the native to tell him that this place had dragons, or great sea serpents like the lands he called home. Nonetheless, he seemed to be heeding his warning, if only slightly.
Lillian
Herin Farensun
Marmots Cradle

"Ah, from truly far up north then." Farther than Herin had ever been, what drew these people this far south? "Well, I don't know what beast live here, and I'm not eager to learn." He looked around at the Jarl's men, then back to the man himself. "Maybe you can take whatever comes through those gates, but maybe you can't, and I don't think you can take that chance. Your men are wounded and tired, your backs are against the sea, and judging from what I saw at the docks, not all your ships are seaworthy. If you can't handle whatever horrors this place offers, then you'll all be dead come sun-up."
He paused, letting his words sink in, watching the towering warrior for any reaction
"Of course, as a fellow Raider, It's my duty to offer you assistance. I have ships close at hand, perhaps we could come to an accord?"
Vincent
Dagstygg Jarl
Vikingr occupied Marmots Cradle

"I know opportuntiy when I see it. Go on. But be aware, I may help you, but I may ask you to help me in return." 

The Jarl whistles to his men, having a few of them roll some logs over for the two to sit on, and started a fire infront. They also brought over two horns for the men to drink
Lillian
Herin Farensun
Marmots cradle

Herin took the horn from the man, but didn't drink. After all, that would require taking of his mask, and he and the Jarl were not that close yet. 
"Here's my offer, in return for me offering you and your men safe passage out of Northwind, I ask only for your time. I have a... Proposition for you and your men, and you seem like the type of men to take me up on my offer." 
Herin sat down on the log, throwing one leg over the other
"If you don't, I'll simply drop you off at a port of your choosing, but you look like a man with an eye for opportunity, so I doubt it'll come to that."

He held up his horn, offering Jarl a cheers. "Do we have a deal?"
Vincent
Dagstygg Jarl
Marmots cradle

"Before you tell me of this proposition, I must warn you I will not leave my Drakkar ships behind. My only condition is that your men along with mine clear this rubble. I have a plan. The river is running towards the sea, if we are able to dislodge one of the stones in the rubble just right, the river will sweep the rest down enough for my ships to pass, I only need a few feet, these ships are shallow hulled, able to pass through rivers as shallow as five feet in depth."
Lillian
Herin Farensun
Marmots Cradle

Herin considered this for a moment 
"That sounds more than fair Jarl, I accept your offer. Let me get my men and we'll set to work right away. Just make sure your men know we're on the same side now." 
He stood and began the walk to the docks where his men still waited in the dinghy for him. The Jarl's men stood guard, and his raiders seemed quite uneasy.
"Return to the boat, and bring back everyone you can. We're helping these warriors get their ships free." 
His men looked at him in shock, but they obeyed. He was proud of that fact, he had turned a group of undisciplined, worthless scag pirates into a group of men who would obey him without question. 
As herin walked back to the Jarl, the first of the dinghy's from his ship was heading towards the cradle, full of men ready to remove the blockage of the river.
Vincent
Dagstygg Jarl
Marmots Cradle

The men seemed to be mingling rather well with the pirates, suprisingly. They seemed to be inspecting them with curiosity, finding the way they dress compared to their own to be odd, judgung by the looks on their faces. Dagstygg was no stand by and watch sort of leader, he was following the group and waved for Herin to follow as they headed towards the blocked off harbor where the watch tower had crashed, it had mostly divoted into the water, if they managed to get enough of it out of the way on this side, they could potentially squeeze their ships by. Dagstygg would begin to speak to Herin as they walked

"So, your proposition, what is it?"
Lillian
Herin Farensun
Marmots Cradle

Herin watched as his men assembled, getting to work removing the blockage. The people of the town watched, a mixture of fear and curiosity in their faces as they watched these two groups of raiders work side by side. His concentration was broken by the Jarl's question, turning his attention to the larger man.
"I'm not from here, as you might have guessed. My home is farther south, in the Southern Isles." He turned his eyes southward, thinking of his "Home", could he call it that? He never truly felt at home except at sea. 
"Currently, it is under the rule of King Bradai Maith, a tyrant, a hypocrite, and a fool."
Just speaking of the man filled him with rage, he restrained himself though, keeping his composure, and continuing with his speech.

"My Hanged Raiders have been railing against him for years, and now we are ready to strike in full, and take back the Isles."
Herin stopped in his tracks, making a broad gesture to the jarl's men
"You are far from home, Jarl, farther than any simple raiding party would go. It would seem to me that you are looking for a new home, a kingdom to call your own. My offer is simple, help me overthrow Maith, and I will give you half of the Isles as your own when we are done."
Herin found it strange himself, offering so much to someone he barely knew, but it was a calculated offer. If The Jarl was useless, then his men would die quickly, and there would be no need to uphold his offer, and if he proved his worth, then half of the Isles would be a fitting reward.
Vincent
Dagstygg Jarl 
Marmots Cradle

He held his hand down to Herin and removed his helmet to show authenticity and respect in his deal.

"King killing is in my blood, friend. My grandfather, Håkon The Red killed the king of the Hrafnblóð dynasty, the king that ruled over where my clan called home, and took the throne. And you are right, the reason I have come this far is because my father bent the knee to a man who wished to unite all the kings of Ísmoðir... But in the process would be stripping them down to the title of Jarl. He took my birthright away from me before he died, and when I wanted to be more than just a Jarl under Konung Stenhård, King Stonehard, I left to new lands."

Once he was done speaking, he got into the riverway, trying to look for a way to clear out more stone strategically, though by the looks of it this would have to be continued in the morning, as the amount of rock they cleared was not sufficient to get the ships through...