(Untitled)

[baldr_dash]

One end of the lake is shrouded in mist this morning. Not so unusual. What is unusual, however, is the ship that sails out of the mist. The mist departs, pierced by the early spring light, and so does the magic that brought it here, the ship, Hringhorni, is brought to a halt and a rope ladder is thrown over one side, followed by what appears to be

Comments

[seetoggsrun]

Eee, a ship! "How'd you do that?"

Typist: Also not from American Gods! Teenage ex-con artist from the Victorian era, prevented by the Mansion from becoming a sailor.

[baldr_dash]

"I don't know! I thought we were on the ocean, but then, it was a lake..." He may be talking about the wrong thing, the sailing part is what's baffling him, so he assumes everyone else is as well.

[seetoggsrun]

He's talking about the right thing! "Don't make sense. Nothing does here."

[baldr_dash]

He shakes his head "I'll get used to it I suppose."

[seetoggsrun]

"Don't think you have much of a choice."

[baldr_dash]

"You've been here for very long?"

[seetoggsrun]

"Since January."

[baldr_dash]

"Ah" He has no concept of the Gregorian calander, so just accepts that it has been some time. He looks at Hringhorni, the ship, worriedly "I hope the lake is deep enough for her."

[seetoggsrun]

"Oh, probably. Where were you headed?"

How do you say Hringhorni?