The test of steel
is underway. The Warlords are facing each other in a duel. Their retainers are fiercely
fighting to decide the day.
A sizable force of Jomsvikings
have been spotted off the north-western Scottish coast and a local warband
has been despatched to intercept before the brutal pagans can push inland and
plunder the peaceful villages in the vicinity. Late in the day, on a clear patch
of scrubland under a leaden grey sky with a persistent, cold drizzle soaking
leather and fur, the warbands finally faced off. Both sides have similar
numbers and no useful terrain advantage either way and so the rival warbands embarked
upon a protracted exchange of insults
and crude mimicry.
