Her mother always told her the scent of honey was good fortune. For the most part, she was right, and even when these days the scent made her ready to trade, and larger things, like expansion and freedom, it was still comforting.<br/><br/>Solvieg cherished nearly any excuse to gather her boys, thier finest brew, and chase tail , but to do so for the sake of Frostaxe and his ilk was almost as nauseating as playing friend to the Greeks. Or worse, Romans.<br/><br/>To Solvieg, and her new claim, the petty king served as fly in her mead. And would no doubt ruin the day.   While she'd enjoy telling tall tales, lying outright and watching the man grow pink in the face with rage and impotence, any time spent in the presence of Skngyrd Frostaxe was unpleasant. The man was a blowhard, and fool to boot.And worse; lazy.  But his serving girls...<br/><br/>Now they were a fine lot. Each Godi after Solvieg own heart  with his hands full of tits or ass, and some with a pair or more. She and her men watched, from thier spot' near the 50 kegs of mead she sailed in from their settlements to the west. As trivial the affair, she spared no expense, figuring it was only wise to keep her admierers and enemies as jovial and inebriated as humanly possible at such an affair. Not to mention...It certianly spoke well of her 'generosity'.  She'd accept her accolades, dismantle her detractors and grow her own legend.<br/><br/>Killed a bear with stones alone? Try one stone!<br/>Went toe to toe with a denmother? Please. The wolf served as he own private pup.<br/>Sailed were no man dared? Blindfolded. With her eyes closed.<br/>Most beautiful woman in the land? Hardly, but she'd gladly spend a night in the girls favor.<br/><br/>Whatever nonsense people spread, it was good to hear. She'd rather hear her name than let it get lost upon uncaring lips.<br/><br/>She sat upon a pile of drink, seated on the highest keg, like a throne made of her own hard work and sweat of her brow. Her thick locks nested with braids, and dreaded locks, the right side shaved, while the other was adorned with painted beads and feathers.  She wore her finest armor, branded leathers across her chest. With copper plates along her thighs and adorning a large belt with a copper longsword at her side. A wolf's skin, strapped to her shoulders. Her skin near flawless, aside from a new wound that ran longwise across the bridge of her nose, near the knot that scarred it. Her eyes painted black with coal , looked wide and large, framed by the thick markings which jutted down her cheeks. The stark dark around here eyes and face made her grin stand out all the more. Wolfish as her name sake.<br/><br/>There, upon her throne of honey turned to profit, sat not simple, friendly and loyal Solvieg, but wolfish and brave Gylðirkuntn.  Her right arm rested on the shoulder of a bear of a man, shirtless and savage, covered in hair and adorned in leather armor. His blonde hair made him blend in with his brothers but his seat high, next to Solvieg showed at least some status. And while Ake was old enough to be her father, she couldn't help her amusement when people mistook her right hand man as her suitor.<br/><br/>While the rest of her inner circle 'Tested' the quality of the petty Kings women and finest game,they laughed, and sang , then every so often she'd raise her drinking horn to thier host and stumble back onto the keg she sat upon. She delighted in the oafs absence and knew her good fortune would not last. They never did. Especially with the scene she caused.<br/><br/>But if anyone asked her...She didn't stand out anymore than anyone else...But if the whispers of serving girls and giggling maids, lads and children were to be believed....She was quite a sight.<br/><br/>She felt the winds as the longhalls doors opened, and a new verse of a rousing drinking song began. Her eyes settled on the doors....There were whispers and tales within the town that all men of power would be in attendance to the Kings display of generosity, including, but not limited to those of Roman blood and coin. She curled her lip at the thought, was clapped on the back and started to sing along with her men.<div class="messageTextEndMarker"> </div>