The warning has barely left the Shieldmaiden’s lips when a horn sounds from the northern path. Villagers gather at the gate, their faces turned toward movement beyond the snow.
A line of winter travelers appears through the trees, carrying bundles and leading exhausted pack animals. Behind them, dark figures move between the trunks, too distant to identify.
A Village Elder
The oath was spoken before gods and people. If this hearth is truly a refuge, we must prove it now. Open the gate.
The Shieldmaiden
Open it, but keep the defenders ready. Those who seek honest shelter enter under our protection, and those who follow them will meet our resolve.
The villagers hesitate as the distant figures draw nearer. The scarred envoy plants his spear beside the gate, while the wolf-pelted seer climbs the watch platform to study the road.
Úlfhéðinn 1
Let the refugees pass. We can bar the pursuers after the innocent are inside, but hesitation will leave both oath and travelers exposed.
Úlfhéðinn 2
Seven pursuers, armed and moving fast. The gate must open now, or this refuge becomes only a promise carved into wood.
The Village Elder raises a hand, and the villagers begin hauling the gate inward. Beyond it, the travelers quicken their steps as the armed figures emerge from the trees.