
Warm mead steam rolls through the hall, thick with smoke, roasted fat, and pine beams sweating by the fire. Thrumka steps inside as cups clatter and voices dip, every eye turning toward the doorway.
At the center of the room stands a tall barbarian woman, scarred across the cheek, one hand resting on a weapon too heavy for her frame. She plants her boots wide and meets Thrumka's stare without blinking.

The Barbarian Woman
Thrumka. Blood does not hold a hall. I claim the proving contest, and with it, your place.
Around them, clan kin grin into their cups, some jeering, some suddenly quiet. A bench scrapes somewhere near the hearth, and the hall seems to wait for Thrumka's answer.

Thrumka
Who are you?

The Barbarian Woman
Runa. Remember it when I take the floor from you.
Runa shifts her grip on the heavy weapon and nods once toward the open space before the fire, as if the contest has already begun. The nearest clansmen lean back to make room.
✓ Quest Accepted
Prove Thrumka's right to lead
✓ Quest Accepted
Win the proving contest
“I say, you risk your life then as i will not be gentle because youre woman. What would you do as clan leader, why?”
SUCCESS (Good Willpower, rolled +0)


Thrumka
You risk your life, then. I will not be gentle. What would you do as clan leader, and why?
Runa’s mouth twitches at the challenge, not in fear, but in appraisal. The hall quiets harder, cups lowering as if the room itself leans in.

Runa
I would stop this clan from living like a crowd waiting to be fed. I would make every hand answer to a purpose, and every purpose answer to the hall.

Runa
No soft boasting. No waste. If we raid, we raid to build. If we feast, we feast after we earn it.
A few clan kin trade glances over their cups. One older warrior gives a low grunt of approval, while another hides a smile behind his beard.

Clan Kin
She speaks like she has counted the ribs in this roof and found them wanting.

Runa
And you, Thrumka, if the hall is yours, what do you make of it?
“I lift my axe to the ready and say, i make it mine, as is my right”
SUCCESS (Good Willpower, rolled +2)

Thrumka raises his greataxe to a ready angle, steady and certain. The hall answers with a hush, every eye on the blade as if it marks the floor itself.

Thrumka
I make it mine, as is my right.
Runa studies him for a breath, then gives a short, hard nod. Her stance eases, not in surrender, but in respect for the answer.

Runa
Then take it. If the hall refuses your hand, it deserves a lesser name than leader.
The clan kin murmur, and the murmur turns. Shoulders settle. Cups lift again, slower this time, as if the room is testing the shape of his claim.

The Barbarian Woman
He does not bluff with his body. That is worth more than a dozen warm boasts.
An older warrior thumps his cup against the bench. One by one, others follow, not all cheering, but none laughing now.
Runa keeps her weapon low and her eyes level. The contest is still alive, yet the hall has begun to lean toward Thrumka, waiting for what he does with the weight he has claimed.