Thread: Vinland is Found (Rania Lark & Frelance)

Ingrid had been out along the border of the village picking wildflowers when the strange shapes had approached the port. The first born daughter of Jarl Gudrun, she had lived a life of privilege. Her clothes were adorned with the most expensive of wool, her gold was polished the brightest however she had always maintained a modest attitude towards the people she would eventually rule. She was sitting in the tall grass with her friend Hilde who had come from one of the noble families, picking flowers and searching for the first sign of berries for the season when the clouds broke to become strange shapes with sharp edges, almost like their own longships. But there was no one scheduled to come back to port that day. Standing up, Ingrids eyes narrowed as she tried to focus on the strange clouds as they grew larger, coming closer. Go notify my father that there are strange intruders approaching, Ingrid told her friend, I am going to go to the port. Ingrid was not one to shy away from risk and was constantly curious about the outside world. She had heard of the Native Tribes across the sea but her father had never allowed his heir to leave their land on any trading escapades for fear of the risk involved. This in turn made Ingrid want to go even more. And she did go. Every time her father allowed her leave to go do some mundane task, Ingrid took the opportunity to explore the neighbouring lands outside of the village. During these times, she had spent time navigating her way along the shore and over the moors to mentally map the land. Standing up and brushing off her apron and her dress from the strange blades of grass, Ingrid began to walk down the hill towards the port. Her reddish blonde hair was half tied up in a braid that ran along the top of her head while her hazel eyes were wide and innocent. The skin on her cheeks were marked with small brown freckles while the rest of her skin was a pale alabaster. Walking through the grass until she arrived at the road leading down the hill, she began to jog through the traders and farmers crowding around, obviously with the same curiosity of the Jarls daughter. Weaving her way through the crowd, Ingrid made her way towards the mooring where the strange ship had stopped. The clouds were indeed the sails of the ship, but they were a stark white. The ship itself was very tall, with many levels of wood and glass that seemed to lead up to the sky. Then several smaller boats emerged from the side of the ship. Standing on the rocky shore, many of the men and women who had stopped were now retreating back into the village, leaving only Ingrid and a few more adventurous dock hands and farmers to stare at the strangers. Ingrid watched with as much curiosity and nervousness as everyone else on the beach as men jumped from the boats onto the small wooden dock jutting out into the bay from the beach. She was the only woman left amongst the few that remained before one of the men turned and began to speak in some strange language. Ingrid tilted her head to the side as her eyes narrowed in both confusion and curiosity as she took a slight step forward. Who are you? Why are you here? she asked in her own tongue, an Ancient Norse tongue that hadnt been heard in decades outside of her own village.