Thorfinn Thorsson }{ Karlsefni (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
seekingvinland) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
sixthiterationlogs2016-10-13 12:04 pm
seekingvinland) wrote in sixthiterationlogs2016-10-13 12:04 pm
The gods are laughing.
WHO: Thorfinn Thorsson
WHERE: The Inn, House #8, The River.
WHEN:One Backdated to October 9th // The other for October 13th
OPEN TO: One thread closed to Sam, the rest OTA
WARNINGS: Some heavy cursing in Norse?
STATUS: Open
Backdated to the 9th: Closed to Sam
Once the rain had stopped, Thorfinn had been quick to get back to his daily tasks, he had days to make up for after all. When he came in the afternoon to drop off lumber he heard about the fact Kate and Margaery was missing, and he hadn't seen Margaery that morning, which in itself was strange but he didn't see reason for alarm when they were only out of sight a few hours at most. They had been seen at breakfast then gone after they went into the woods.
If it had been anyone else he would have rolled his eyes and gotten back to work, but it was both Kate and Margaery, and people were going off to look for them. So he watched and listened a few minutes before he looked to the person nearest him, Sam Wilson.
"You want me to go with?" He offered, though still he didn't look too concerned. If it had been a full day he'd be worried, but a few hours was not a big deal in his eyes. Kate was capable, and Margaery was learning.
OTA; Morning October 13th.
Thorfinn was making his way out the front door of House #8, he usually headed from the back door to the inn to collect and axe and get to work, today he was aching from a worse night of sleep than usual so he was going to skip out on collecting wood for the day and get to following the river. He made his way out finishing the last touch of his braids, twisting them into themselves to hold in place. While he messed with his hair he managed to trip on the box sitting on the porch and hit his knee in the process.
"Ríða! Stykki af skít, hvað í fjandanum!"
He had not expected something on the porch much less that heavy. The box was more or less crushed under his weight, and when he shifted off of it and realized there was a point sticking out dangerously close to where his leg had landed on the box. No wonder it hurt like it did. Thorfinn he realized it was the way the last box had displayed his name, of course the rest of his name was there. He shifted to sit cross legged despite the smarting pain in his leg. This was for him. Why were their captors giving him strange gifts, and leaving them in a place he could kill himself?
Tearing the box the rest of the way from the place the blade was sticking out he quickly realized what it was. An axe head it was unlike the ones he was used to, closer to the ones that came in the weapons crates but still strange in its hammer like end. He looked over the heavy item a few moments before he slowly looked up unamused. His face twisting to anger.
They gave him and axe.
An axe with no handle.
He was going to have to go fashion a handle and hoped it could support that weight. "Þetta er ekki fjandans fyndið." He placed the axe-head aside with a loud thunk. Looking to the rest of the crushed box, his eyes going wide. Wheat seeds.
He knew what they were by the sight of them. Looking up at the sky, then back towards the back yard…. He needed to make himself a little field and get these planted before it got to late, Einar had taught him Wheat could be planted in the fall. It wouldn't be able to be harvested in time for winter, but it might be good to do for next year if they are still here, if not maybe it could help someone else in the future. He just sat there staring at the box for a little while.
OTA: Following the river.
The axe-head was in his bag over his shoulder, but the wheat seeds had been left in his room. Thorfinn got to work quickly on moving to the river to start following it. He was looking for off orange coloring, for signs of bog iron. He wasn't an expert and his lessons on the stuff had been ages ago when he was in Medietas, but, it was something worth looking into. A possibility of getting the smith up and running. He didn't have high hopes on finding the bog iron, but, it was worth a shot to try. Worse come to worse he'd time to find a stick worthy of whittling down into a handle for the axe-head.
WHERE: The Inn, House #8, The River.
WHEN:One Backdated to October 9th // The other for October 13th
OPEN TO: One thread closed to Sam, the rest OTA
WARNINGS: Some heavy cursing in Norse?
STATUS: Open
Backdated to the 9th: Closed to Sam
Once the rain had stopped, Thorfinn had been quick to get back to his daily tasks, he had days to make up for after all. When he came in the afternoon to drop off lumber he heard about the fact Kate and Margaery was missing, and he hadn't seen Margaery that morning, which in itself was strange but he didn't see reason for alarm when they were only out of sight a few hours at most. They had been seen at breakfast then gone after they went into the woods.
If it had been anyone else he would have rolled his eyes and gotten back to work, but it was both Kate and Margaery, and people were going off to look for them. So he watched and listened a few minutes before he looked to the person nearest him, Sam Wilson.
"You want me to go with?" He offered, though still he didn't look too concerned. If it had been a full day he'd be worried, but a few hours was not a big deal in his eyes. Kate was capable, and Margaery was learning.
OTA; Morning October 13th.
Thorfinn was making his way out the front door of House #8, he usually headed from the back door to the inn to collect and axe and get to work, today he was aching from a worse night of sleep than usual so he was going to skip out on collecting wood for the day and get to following the river. He made his way out finishing the last touch of his braids, twisting them into themselves to hold in place. While he messed with his hair he managed to trip on the box sitting on the porch and hit his knee in the process.
"Ríða! Stykki af skít, hvað í fjandanum!"
He had not expected something on the porch much less that heavy. The box was more or less crushed under his weight, and when he shifted off of it and realized there was a point sticking out dangerously close to where his leg had landed on the box. No wonder it hurt like it did. Thorfinn he realized it was the way the last box had displayed his name, of course the rest of his name was there. He shifted to sit cross legged despite the smarting pain in his leg. This was for him. Why were their captors giving him strange gifts, and leaving them in a place he could kill himself?
Tearing the box the rest of the way from the place the blade was sticking out he quickly realized what it was. An axe head it was unlike the ones he was used to, closer to the ones that came in the weapons crates but still strange in its hammer like end. He looked over the heavy item a few moments before he slowly looked up unamused. His face twisting to anger.
They gave him and axe.
An axe with no handle.
He was going to have to go fashion a handle and hoped it could support that weight. "Þetta er ekki fjandans fyndið." He placed the axe-head aside with a loud thunk. Looking to the rest of the crushed box, his eyes going wide. Wheat seeds.
He knew what they were by the sight of them. Looking up at the sky, then back towards the back yard…. He needed to make himself a little field and get these planted before it got to late, Einar had taught him Wheat could be planted in the fall. It wouldn't be able to be harvested in time for winter, but it might be good to do for next year if they are still here, if not maybe it could help someone else in the future. He just sat there staring at the box for a little while.
OTA: Following the river.
The axe-head was in his bag over his shoulder, but the wheat seeds had been left in his room. Thorfinn got to work quickly on moving to the river to start following it. He was looking for off orange coloring, for signs of bog iron. He wasn't an expert and his lessons on the stuff had been ages ago when he was in Medietas, but, it was something worth looking into. A possibility of getting the smith up and running. He didn't have high hopes on finding the bog iron, but, it was worth a shot to try. Worse come to worse he'd time to find a stick worthy of whittling down into a handle for the axe-head.
no subject
He catches the glare from Jo and only barely resists the urge to roll his eyes at it. He couldn't just not explain this when it came up, huntress. And he wasn't going to lie about it. The two people in this room were the ones he was closest--try as he had to avoid making connections all together.
"You know, Jo," he turns his head toward her slowly, "you could stand lose the attitude. I didn't do anything, and he deserved to know."