Tarna leaves the dancing and drinking behind, scrubbing fish oil and smoke from her hands, arms, and armor while the Giants’ celebration rolls on without her.
She waddles across the snow toward her hut, exhaustion dragging at every step. The firelight dwindles behind her, along with the clan’s laughter.
Inside, Tarna sets aside her spear and settles beneath the heavy furs. The cramped shelter grows quiet, holding only her slow breathing and the faint wind beyond the walls.
Sleep carries her somewhere impossible: a vast green pasture stretches beneath warm light, its soft blades rippling where ice should lie. Giants welcome her there as kin, not merely for what her strength can provide.
In the dream, no one leaves her alone beside the cooking stones. The green world surrounds her with unfamiliar life, gentle voices, and a belonging she has never known.
Before dawn, Tarna wakes in a deep sweat, heart racing beneath the furs. The vision remains startlingly clear, and the unknown green pasture feels less like a dream than a summons.
Tarna Óhagganlegur
The grass was alive beneath my feet.
✓ Quest Accepted
Discover whether the green pasture is real
“{She tosses and turns but is eventually able to fall asleep after she removes her blankets and lays on her stomach. Eventually the morning sunlight pierces into her room from the slight cracks in her hut walls. The fireplace still roaring near her casting a glow off her walls. She stretches awake but can only think about the weird dream she had}”
Tarna tosses beneath the heavy furs, the lingering dream refusing to fade. At last, she pushes the blankets aside and settles on her stomach across the sleeping place.
The hut grows warm around her. The fireplace continues roaring nearby, its steady glow painting the rough walls while Tarna’s breathing gradually deepens into sleep.
Morning sunlight eventually pierces the hut through narrow cracks between the timbers. Pale gold lines cross the floor and climb the wall beside her resting form.
Tarna stretches awake, unfolding her long limbs carefully within the cramped shelter. Warmth from the fire remains against her skin, while dawn brightens the last shadows.
Tarna Óhagganlegur
The grass was alive beneath my feet.
She remains still for a while, staring toward the sunlit cracks. The dream’s vast green pasture, gentle voices, and strange welcome stay clearer than any ordinary sleep.
Outside, the island waits beneath its cold morning sky, but inside the hut the fire holds its glow. Tarna wakes fully with the impossible vision still calling to her memory.
“{She looks outside to still see alot of the giants partying from the night before. She decides to walk past them all and head to the edge of the islands, followed by some curious penguins. She looks into the distance but only sees water and ice until the skyline meets the ocean.”
SUCCESS (Fair Perception, rolled +1)
Tarna steps outside to find the Giants still celebrating around the communal fire. Some dance in the snow, others lift cups, and the newborn’s feast has become a lingering dawn revel.
Giants
Shield-maiden! The morning has barely begun. Come, share another cup!
Tarna walks past the revelers toward the island’s edge. Several penguins waddle after her, then gather around her boots as the shore opens into wind-scoured ice.
She reaches the brink and studies the distance. Water and broken ice stretch beneath the pale sky, ending only where the skyline meets the ocean.
Tarna Óhagganlegur
The horizon holds no land.
An unfamiliar green glint in the far light catches her attention, and she remains fixed on it, searching its wavering shape long after the rest of the horizon is clear.
When Tarna finally looks away, the glint has yielded no answer. She has confirmed the island’s empty horizon, but the time spent staring leaves the dream’s pasture no nearer to understanding.
“{she looks around, on a small ice cap floating in the water she sees an all white Owlbear, a creature with the head of an owl, body of a bear, and adorned with feathers on its arms. She looks the other direction and sees a swarm of tuna swimming in the water, then she sees something out past that. In the Ocean, looks like its coming towards her, she sees a huge black wooden ship sailing towards the island.”
SUCCESS (Fair Perception, rolled +1)
Tarna turns along the floating ice cap. On a smaller floe, an adult white owlbear watches her, its owl head bright above a bear’s broad body and feathered arms.
The creature remains still except for a slow tilt of its head. Tarna’s attention catches on its unfamiliar feathers and strange union of forms, holding her gaze longer than she intends.
She forces herself to look the other way. Beneath the clear water, a dense swarm of tuna moves together, silver bodies turning like a single living current.
The White Owlbear
Hoo-rrm.
The owlbear’s low call draws Tarna’s eyes back for another costly moment. When she finally searches beyond the tuna, a huge black wooden ship is plainly sailing toward the island.
Tarna Óhagganlegur
The ship is coming here.
She has identified the white owlbear, the tuna swarm, and the approaching vessel, though the time lost studying the strange creature leaves the ship’s markings and occupants unresolved.