The Yule Log

[ragnarsson]

who: The Norse and everyone else in the city!
what: The Norse celebrate Yule. Gods help everyone.
when: December 22nd, Winter Solstice
where: Somewhere outside
warnings: Alcohol, drugs, animal sacrifice, blood play, rough foreplay, sex. Will update if necessary.



The Yule celebration has gotten underway on the Winter Solstice and it promises to be a most interesting night. The Norse have gone all out with this affair to make sure it's going to be a success. First thing to be spotted is a bonfire, so big that you might want to be careful not to trip around it, because you'll fall right in. There's plenty of room for dancing too, if you feel like grooving to a beat that's a little more unusual than most.

The Yule celebration shares a lot of similarities with Christmas, so it's a good time for gift giving. There's little shoes on a table, mimicking the tradition where Odin would leave presents for good children by putting them in their shoes. Claim one as your own and maybe a friend will leave a gift inside one for you. Watch it though. Any grinches will be fed to the Yule Cat.

There's a table set up to the right of the bonfire with food, mostly of the hearty kind that the Norse seem to prefer, and of course, lots of alcohol. Please remember not to get into any drinking contests with the gods. They will observe no responsibility for what happens afterward.

There are also mushrooms for consumption, provided by everyone's favorite psychotic Viking, Ivar The Boneless. These ones are directly from his home world, which means they come with a variety of side effects. They have the ability to make a person hallucinate quite a bit. But they can also make people much more horny than usual. Lastly, there's the effect that hits some people in making them extremely violent. Sometimes one effect hits, sometimes more than one. In any case, anyone who consumes some is assured to have an...interesting time.

On a lighter note, there's mistletoe scattered around, hung from the trees and tent beams. Fun fact: the Vikings were the first one to use it for the tradition of kissing. Of course, they also believed it was a plant that was powerful enough to kill a god, so the kissing was ostensibly for protection.

At the height of the night, there will be an animal sacrifice done. A goat is slaughtered and the blood from it is gathered into a couple of bowls. If you'd really like to go all out like a Viking, paint your face in the still-warm blood, or drink a little bit of it. Otherwise, enjoy freshly seared chunks of goat as it bastes over the bonfire.

Have fun, drink, fight, and remember to make your ancestors proud!

Comments

i! also counting their tdm thread as canon if that's cool?

[jelmazmo]

( Actually, he does! Dany isn't much for dancing, though she's asked Jon to teach her how once before. It's been a night of quiet enjoyment for her, feeling a little more at home, a little less lost in a sea of technology and people from a modern advanced time and place. This is entirely her jam.

The horns are charming in their fashion, and she's been sipping a little from hers all night. Eventually, things blur a little, and she moves to sit down near the fire. With a murmured dracarys, Viserion tops it up nicely, blazing higher than it previously had. She turns to see who she's seated next to, and finds herself pleasantly surprised. )

My wedding to my first husband was a little like this. But among the Dothraki, at least three people would need to die before the night is out. Else they'd deem it dull.

( Her wistful expression turns neutral, pleasant. ) Are such gatherings common among your people?

that'd be great :>

[storradr]

Dothraki. [He tried out the word with a smirk, liking the sound and feel of it.] They sound like a powerful people.

We do not often sacrifice people. Mm. [He reconsidered for a moment.] There are very specific times and reasons for people to be sacrificed. Yule is not one.

[He takes a drink and nods.] Of course. The gifts that the gods grant us must be both asked for and celebrated.

[He turned to watch her for a moment, looking thoughtful.] What are your gods like. Or are you like the Christians and have only one?

[jelmazmo]

They are; and follow only the strongest. ( For all the Westerosi call them savage, they fear them with good reason. ) And are undefeated on the field of battle.

Oh, what I speak of wasn't sacrifice. The first death occurred when two men fought over the same dancer. ( A small, if blithe smile. ) What might those occasions be?

I've done so once; and the woman in question was no innocent.

( She pauses, taking a sip from her horn before deciding to reply with honesty: ) There are many I might speak of; those of my ancestors of Old Valyria, the Great Stallion of the Dothraki, the Old Gods of the North or those of the Faith of the Seven. But I hold belief in none of those. Faith in myself is what saw me through many challenging years.

Those of your people, though — some are present, I gather. But what of the rest?

[storradr]

They sound like my people. [He grinned fondly.] Oh! Not sacrifices. Yes. We have many of those too. Small arguments, stealing someone's seat, old rivalries... a simple drunken mistake. That does happen. If it is for a good reason -[and good reasons were relative]- then killing someone is usually just punished with a fine. Or less.

As for sacrifices? When a King or Earl dies, usually one of their slaves or a wife volunteers to die as well. Certain festivals call for volunteers who will be sacrificed. Or very important battles. [All volunteers though. It was an honor to be sacrificed.

He nodded, curious about all the gods she'd listed, but something she says caught his attention instead.] 'Some are present'? What do you mean?

[jelmazmo]

I lived among them for a long time—in many ways, their culture became mine. ( With a few tweaks, obviously. She's Westerosi underneath it all. ) When I arrived in the land of my birth, many of its—my—people seemed to believe they were superior. But they've carried out similar brutality upon one-another for just as long as the Dothraki.

Does the amount of the fine depend upon the manner by which a person is killed?

( The rest of what he says has a small, knowing smile crossing her face. She'd followed her first husband into the blaze of his pyre, once. And emerged unharmed; she wonders if his people would have seen it as strength, as the Dothraki who'd remained with her after Drogo's death had. )

Loki and I are allies. ( Of a sort; having admitted to being a fond of mischief, she knows to be wary. And that that goes both ways. ) His brother Thor, as well; a gallant, I've found.

They're both here.

[storradr]

[Ragnar chuckled softly, a knowing smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.] That sounds very familiar. Except my people are viewed the same way the Dothraki are by most. That doesn't keep us from winning battles however.

[He frowned slightly at her question. The answer was a complicated one.] It is ultimately decided by whoever is judging the complaint, usually an Earl or a King. Sometimes fines depend on what the person has, sometimes they depend on the reason they killed the other person or the manner. And... sometimes the person judging the complaint is corrupt and levies fines for their own benefit. [There's definite disdain when he mentions the corruption, but it certainly existed.]

Ah. I see. That- How do I say this? They share names with our gods, but they are so completely different that they can't truly be considered the same. They're from another world. That's the only explanation I can see.

Where I am from, Loki and Thor are not brothers. Thor is married to Sif and has children. He's Odin's son. Loki is Odin's friend, a blood brother. They are also described very differently than how these ones look.

It's... confusing, honestly. I would like to think everything we know about our gods isn't wrong... I am also unsure how to relate to these gods. They are my gods, but at the same time, they are not.

[jelmazmo]

How do your people win their battles? My Dothraki and Unsullied have tasted victory, but the Westerosi forces have been fighting each other for the better part of a decade.

( Which means those forces are tired when they can't afford to be. Learning the tactics of another world's people can't hurt, right? It can only provide perspective. And less of a need to rely on Tyrion's lack of skill in that arena. )

You've seen this manner of corruption personally, I assume. ( Her lip curls a little in a small sneer. ) Are there good reasons to kill people? Sometimes. Others, most certainly not. When I took the city of Meereen, those among the former slave-owning families rose against me. I'd nailed exactly as many of their brethren to mile markers between their city and the sea as I'd found children along the route there. Once, my men caught one of their number. I was going to hold a trial and decide what to do with him afterward. But one of the former slaves had gone into the cells and killed him already.

( Ragnar can surely imagine several creative ways in which this would have gone sour. And quickly. ) The boy was executed. I could not show myself to seem above anyone.

And I see. Truly, it remains dizzying to hear of so many worlds, stars, places I've never heard of. Part of me wishes to go out, to see them all. I've been stuck behind walls for too long.

Despite the differences—how do you find those who are here? I imagine I would find it initially difficult, were our places exchanged.

[storradr]

Not a simple question to answer. Boats. Surprise attacks. Coordination and practice. Fearlessness. [None of it is said boastfully. It was the most simplified way he could think of to explain the usual tactics and advantages used by the Vikings. Military tactics were a difficult thing to explain without any visual aids.]

That level of corruption is common place unfortunately. A bit of land here, a false accusation there and before you know it, you're a tyrant. [His lips pressed into a thin line, but her story was a good distraction.] There can be. If someone tries to kill you or if they try to harm your family.

[He smirked at her description of the punishment she'd dealt out to her enemy, but seemed confused about her reluctance in killing the slave.] Good. You did the right thing. Slaves cannot be allowed to be violent towards their masters.

Do you mean you've been you've been stuck here?

[He leaned back, apparently to contemplate her question, scratching his fingers through his beard idly as he thought.] I don't know how I should treat them. Our gods walk among us anyway, but they are rarely obvious about it. They appear as wanderers under fake names, testing our characters or wits. The gods here are not. They are simply being themselves. So, I should treat them no different than anyone else, right?

[jelmazmo]

The tactics of the Ironborn? ( Were they not in play under the banner of Euron Greyjoy, that just might work. However: they are unless Theon and Yara mount a coup. ) They are on the side of my enemy, so far as I'm aware. Their leader was spooked by the wight we presented to those of the South who thought them the stuff of tales. The infantry forces are what we will mainly have to face, if he stays at home once the dead are gone. Those men have been fighting constantly for seven years; they're tired.

( And their morale must be alarmingly low after her attack upon their loot train. Good. ) It has been the same in my country. My goal for some time has been to break the wheel which crushes rich and poor for the betterment of a select few. ( She raises her chin, the line of her jaw set tight. ) The witch I spoke of when we first met? I watched her burn.

( But I found no joy in it. Only peace. I am not my father. And she would remark on it, were he not to mention that one thing which sees her expression harden. Generally, they tend to agree; but not on this one thing. Her tone when she makes her reply is sharper than her wont. )

No one should suffer the fate of being bought and sold and abused. All lives are precious.

( Except those of one's enemy, obviously. There's always exceptions. But as a rule of thumb: she despises slavery. ) We have all been imprisoned here, caged like animals. The perimeter is nothing less than that. Because they can't be seen doesn't mean we've not been put in chains.

( Dany considers this, and then inclines her head once, almost imperceptibly. )

I hold no faith in the divine; it is what I would do, whether they were real or not.

[storradr]

The Ironborn? [Even the name itself made him sit up a little, the start of a smile pulling at his lips.] The name sounds fitting.

[His brow furrows slightly.] Seven years? [And shakes his head.] Even seven months would be asking a lot. [Their style of fighting was all out and brutal but in short bursts. Smash and grab and get out.]

Our slaves are captured enemies. Loot from those we defeat. [He shrugged, not seeing the issue. What was important was your own people and your own family.]

I don't feel imprisoned. We may speak with anyone we wish, work doing anything we choose. We make our own decisions. None of that is slavery.

[jelmazmo]

There are some further similarities that I know of: their stronghold, the Iron islands are desolate. No trees, many rocks. They used to pillage along the west coast of my country, but the woman, Yara—she and I had struck a pact to see that to an end.

I would return the Iron Islands to her family, rather than claim it for myself and conduct trade with her.

( It's not terrible; she knows enough to be aware that they'd need some fashion to obtain goods and foodstuffs. The alliance was one of the few things she's done of which her hand has approved. It had felt nice, to be on the same page. As she and Ragnar are not. )

They are still people; not property. ( After spending all of her adult life freeing them, her point of view is decidedly contrary to his, and it shows.

She raises an eyebrow, tone still sharp as she responds: )

Aren't we? Not all chains are seen when they are borne.

[storradr]

[He nodded.]

We have trees and farmland, but nothing like what I've seen in the lands to the West.

[He shrugs again at the slavery issue.] They are conquered people. [Does that make them somehow less than free men and women? In his opinion, yes, most of the time. However, they could become their equals. It was a mix of fate and ambition though.]

I don't think we are. Could you not choose to do nothing tomorrow? Could you not choose to leave the fenced area? [He saw them more like a shipwrecked crew, stranded and unable to get home without some creativity and ingenuity on their part.]

[jelmazmo]

( The wine has served two purposes tonight: to loosen her tongue and worsen her temper. She's already still furious with him for the manner in which he'd insulted Jon.

What he says next causes her to stand, her dragon to rear up on his hind legs and let out a small, but nevertheless angry sound. Her face bears no expression at all, but for the cold steel in her eyes. )

I wonder if you'd say the same were you the one in a slave's collar. Enjoy what you perceive to be 'freedom.'

( And while they can choose, she sees their options as limited. Even then, the people here are conditioned to think small. Dany finds no interest in speaking to him any further, finding it dampening her mood when she'd prefer to try and enjoy the festivities. Grasping her horn, she rises from where she's been seated and makes to leave before she says or does something to ruin the party for its host. )