WhiteFinch

I fashioned my first raft, but the north wind mocked my wish to sail south. So I made a fresh set of rags, departed, and headed into the sea. Before long, land showed itself. Upon landing, I raised a makeshift base and explored the island. It held little. An empty isle, fit only for disappointment.

The storm caught my raft, broke it upon the shore, and left me needing another. I crafted a new one and returned to the main island after a full day’s journey. There I stumbled upon Kat, a Viking woman with no clothes. I helped hide her nakedness, as any decent warrior should. I also slew my first troll. The gods smiled, and I did not argue.

The group raised a Reinforced Chest and admired it for a time. Kael taught me the craft of farming, and I learned to plant and grow food for sustenance. Then I ventured into the swamp for the first time with Kael and Bjorn. Things grew rough, but we brought iron scraps and ore home as spoils.

We sailed a new, larger ship—a longship—and avoided the perilous rocks. At last, the wind favored our return. On the journey, I loosed my bow too soon in an accidental “money shot,” earning sharp words from Bjorn and Kael for my stupidity. We arrived home and unloaded the spoils, ready for another adventure. A broken raft, a dead troll, and iron in the chest: the sea took its due, but not the whole of me.

I ran into another Viking today, a warrior named Bjorn. He keeps a fine home, and in my first trial against Eikthyr he bore much of the burden. I shall not claim another man's glory, though I am glad to have stood beside him.

I explored more of the Black Forest and found my first node of copper. I mined it with my own hands, so the metal has heard my name now. The barn also gained a new chimney and a wraparound upper deck for defense. Even a humble barn deserves battlements.

I found my first blueberries and made my first jam. Then I fashioned my first boar jerky and ate it with a willing belly. It tasted like a feast fit for a king, which proves hunger is a generous skald. Copper in the earth, jam in the jar, and jerky in my gut—this homestead grows teeth.