Axe and The Wolf

Chapter XI: Salt And Smoke

"In the labyrinth of life, each step taken is a question asked, each turn a mystery waiting to unfold."– Wanderer Bryn Ironfoot, Echoes of A Traveller

The city's architecture is a testament to its maritime heritage and the practicality of a harsh environment. Sturdy wooden buildings with steeply pitched roofs line the streets, their facades often adorned with intricate carvings and weathered by wind and sea spray. The streets are a labyrinthine mix of cobblestone and well-trodden dirt paths, bustling with the comings and goings of sailors, traders, and locals. Fishermen mend nets along the docks, shipwrights carve the wood to be used in the creation of new drakkar ships, their faces and hands weathered and creased by years of weather exposure and work. In taverns and inns, tales of daring voyages and fierce sea monsters are traded over flagons of ale and roasted meats. The market square is a cacophony of languages and cultures, a melting pot where exotic spices, furs, and treasures from distant lands find eager buyers. The scent of brine and salt-laden air hangs over the city, an enduring reminder of its deep connection to the sea. The city pulses with activity as ships of all sizes dock at the bustling harbor, their sails fluttering like the wings of seabirds. The clang of rigging against masts and the rhythmic creaking of ships intertwine with the calls of merchants hawking their wares, creating an ever-present symphony of maritime life.

The convoy entered into the city after speaking with the guards, who recognized the old dwarf as the brother of one of the best jewelers in town, Gunnhilda. The wagons moved to one of the most popular inns, called the Mariner's Meadhorn, according to Master Jari, well-known for their excellent ales and roasted goose, Ulfrun thought it weird that the place had such a name and the old dwarf didn't mention anything about mead. They entered the establishment, the outside had nets and other sailing accoutrements. Inside, Ulfrun and the rest of the dwarves spoke with the woman behind the counter, a young woman in her early twenties, by the smith's estimates. "Welcome to the Mariner's Horn, are you by any chance here to stay with us?" said the young woman, she was fair skinned as all Northmen and women, her hair a reddish blonde braided into a single braid that hung from the right side of her face, her nose bridge and cheeks covered lightly in freckles, she was pretty, Ulfrun thought, but he blinked himself back to the question. "Aye, darling, for about two weeks, at least me and me wife, what about you, Ulf, ye staying long?" the smith shook his head "I'll stay for a couple of days at most, I must see if I can get seabrone as soon as possible..." the older couple paid for their longer stay, and Ulfrun paid for 3 days, he reckoned he wouldn't take longer than that to find passage on a ship, human or dwarven.

After finding their rooms and leaving their luggage in them, Ulfrun was invited by Master Jari to the one of the local taverns he knew of, the Golden Whale, when asked why one would go to a tavern if the inn had perfectly serviceable accomodations for drinking and eating the old dwarf replied with "Gossip, rumours and news aren't heard at inns, son, they are heard in taverns..." the smith was more than sure people at inns often gossiped just as much as in a tavern, but he wasn't going to turn down the invitation. The inside of the tavern was rather cozy, outside was chilly and humid, but the inside was warm and dry, the stone walls and floor took well the temperature of the main central fire pit, where the owner had an elk or another large deer and other sections of meat cooking over the fire, tending to them was the tavern owner, a white dragonborn man, it surprised Ulfrun, he hadn't seen many dragonborn individuals in his life, least of all a white one, he wondered if they'd have the same proclivity for evil as the white dragons they have blood from. The dragonborn wore simple knee-height pants of a green color and a yellow tunic common in Niflheim. "Voranar!" exlcaimed the Engineer, "Long time no see, lad, how have you been? Is your da still in the back beheading chickens! By Moradin's boots, you grew up since I last saw you!" Ulfrun blinked with a blank stare, of course he fuckin' knows someone here as well, I should've expected it, the smith thought to himself. The white dragonborn, now that Ulfrun put attention into his features, has a certain air of youth, despite being tall, broad and very muscular, as his kind tend to be. Voranar whispered something close only for Irena and Jari to hear, they said sorry in a whispered tone, Ulfrun read the situation and since he heard not much sound from the back of the tavern, he could infair that Voranar's father was probably not around anymore.