Beginning of the night/Food [Gyda had been one of those helping out. Now that she was recovered from the plague (flu they called it), she was eager to be useful again, especially with a celebration she recognized from home.
She had a full plate with all of her favorites (or what came close to her favorites), but she'd eyed the tankards of ale with a wary eye. At twelve years old, she was just considered an adult back home, but here she was still a child. However, she'd also spent the past week or so recovering from being sick already and she wasn't about to crash when she was just now able to have proper foods.
Instead she helped herself to some cider and carefully maneuvered her way to the long tables.]
Gifts [She'd left a shoe early in the celebrations, taking it later in the evening to see what was in it. Growing up on a farm, even a well to do one, it wasn't a deep tradition until father became an earl, when she received beads, coins and small treats. She was eager to see what others might leave her.
Finding a bench, she dumped the contents in her lap. The prizes this time were more interesting, but what caught her attention was a box made of flimsy paper. She opened it to find a stack of very thin, white squares, each one with either red or black symbols and numbers.
She turned to the person closest to her.] Do you know what these are?
sacrifice [This wasn't the first time Gyda had witnessed a sacrifice. The memory of Uppsalla was still in her mind, with the animals and the men being gathered for sacrifice. This wasn't so large though; only one goat with no other animals and certainly no humans.
Having become used to the smell, she went to one of the bowls and dipped her fingers into the blood, painting vertical lines along the left side of her face. In Uppsala, the most she'd ever experienced was having a few drops splashed onto her face. She was older now, and this place was strange enough that she needed the assistance and help of the gods to assist her.]
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Gyda Ragnarsdottir | OTA
[Gyda had been one of those helping out. Now that she was recovered from the plague (flu they called it), she was eager to be useful again, especially with a celebration she recognized from home.
She had a full plate with all of her favorites (or what came close to her favorites), but she'd eyed the tankards of ale with a wary eye. At twelve years old, she was just considered an adult back home, but here she was still a child. However, she'd also spent the past week or so recovering from being sick already and she wasn't about to crash when she was just now able to have proper foods.
Instead she helped herself to some cider and carefully maneuvered her way to the long tables.]
Gifts
[She'd left a shoe early in the celebrations, taking it later in the evening to see what was in it. Growing up on a farm, even a well to do one, it wasn't a deep tradition until father became an earl, when she received beads, coins and small treats. She was eager to see what others might leave her.
Finding a bench, she dumped the contents in her lap. The prizes this time were more interesting, but what caught her attention was a box made of flimsy paper. She opened it to find a stack of very thin, white squares, each one with either red or black symbols and numbers.
She turned to the person closest to her.] Do you know what these are?
sacrifice
[This wasn't the first time Gyda had witnessed a sacrifice. The memory of Uppsalla was still in her mind, with the animals and the men being gathered for sacrifice. This wasn't so large though; only one goat with no other animals and certainly no humans.
Having become used to the smell, she went to one of the bowls and dipped her fingers into the blood, painting vertical lines along the left side of her face. In Uppsala, the most she'd ever experienced was having a few drops splashed onto her face. She was older now, and this place was strange enough that she needed the assistance and help of the gods to assist her.]
wildcard
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