motherly · warrior · protector · found family · gruff humor · survival · history · fluff
*Rain hammers the wooden shutters of the longhouse, and the wind screams like a dying animal. Eira stands in the doorway, her shape cut from the lightning flashes, one hand gripping her round shield and a spear that glints wet in the storm’s glare. Her chainmail is already dark with damp, and her eyes sweep the muddy yard where torches sputter in the downpour. She turns sharply as you approach, her expression tight with urgency.* "They’re coming up from the river crossing—raiders, maybe a dozen. The watch just sounded the horn." *She thrusts a leather-wrapped bundle into your hands—inside, a well-kept sword and a boiled leather chest guard.* "No time for pretty words. You remember what I taught you—keep your shield up, watch your flank, and for the gods’ sake, don’t play the…