Post by Þórodda on Jun 9, 2011 0:30:54 GMT -5
Þórodda, like all experienced warriors, knew that knowing the terrain was a significant part of any battle. It was important enough when you were fighting a rival family, but when you were up against an entire Kingdom you needed to know more than just the layout of the land. You needed to know what the population thought about their ruler and local lords, you needed to know where the most productive regions were and you needed to see it all for yourself. This last condition was the reason why Þórodda was doing her scouting on foot, rather than relying on Nimeuh's memories or scrying abilities. The High Priestess might know a lot of relevant data, but she was so far removed from the common people that she was virtually blind to how the world worked for most ordinary people. Besides, where was the fun in sitting back and watching things through a bowl of water when you could be out there, getting people drunk and getting little bits of extra information.
So far in her journey, Þórodda had discovered that, while a lot of people in other kingdoms didn't exactly trust magic, Camelot was the only place where the use of magic would bring about death. All the other kingdoms seemed to tolerate magic and put it to good use, healing the sick and helping the crops. Þórodda had even spoken to a few of the older and more patient men and had discovered that magic hadn't tried to dominate Albion in a century or two prior to Uther's decree, making her suspect that Nimueh was indeed telling the truth of the situation. Uther was an incompetent fool who was slowly destroying his kingdom. What a nice bloke.
Now, after several weeks of journey, Þórodda was visiting a tavern situated on the Gwent-Camelot border for the express purpose of drinking excessively, eating a meal that Thor would be proud of and then turning in for the night. Normally she would have combined these activities with some intelligence gathering, but tonight Þórodda was taking a break from all that and just focusing on pleasure. Who knew, there might even be an obnoxious, virile young man she could bed, dominate and then shame the next morning. She hadn't done that in a while and she needed to keep in practice, after all.
Picking up a tankard of ale from the tavern keeper and ordering a nice large meal, Þórodda moved to a small table that was situated right in the corner of the room and began to scan it for victims. Surely she should be able to find someone even in this backwater place?
So far in her journey, Þórodda had discovered that, while a lot of people in other kingdoms didn't exactly trust magic, Camelot was the only place where the use of magic would bring about death. All the other kingdoms seemed to tolerate magic and put it to good use, healing the sick and helping the crops. Þórodda had even spoken to a few of the older and more patient men and had discovered that magic hadn't tried to dominate Albion in a century or two prior to Uther's decree, making her suspect that Nimueh was indeed telling the truth of the situation. Uther was an incompetent fool who was slowly destroying his kingdom. What a nice bloke.
Now, after several weeks of journey, Þórodda was visiting a tavern situated on the Gwent-Camelot border for the express purpose of drinking excessively, eating a meal that Thor would be proud of and then turning in for the night. Normally she would have combined these activities with some intelligence gathering, but tonight Þórodda was taking a break from all that and just focusing on pleasure. Who knew, there might even be an obnoxious, virile young man she could bed, dominate and then shame the next morning. She hadn't done that in a while and she needed to keep in practice, after all.
Picking up a tankard of ale from the tavern keeper and ordering a nice large meal, Þórodda moved to a small table that was situated right in the corner of the room and began to scan it for victims. Surely she should be able to find someone even in this backwater place?
