Fantasy & Myth Forced Proximity Slow Burn

Kindling Month — Frid & Sunniva, the Hall in the Dark Months

The skald has made a song of your arrival. The woman who let you in objects to nearly every word.

Fantasy & Myth Forced Proximity Slow Burn Play as him Ensemble

Kindling Month — Frid & Sunniva, the Hall in the Dark Months

The skald has made a song of your arrival. The woman who let you in objects to nearly every word.

Setting: the long hall at Hafnstead late in kindling-month — benches emptied, the fire down to its red heart, a broken axle propped against the north wall, snow over the byre door outside · night
You play: a wintering-in stranger under guest-right — a traveller with a broken axle, no standing in the hall and no way out until the roads open

Fantasy & Myth Forced Proximity Slow Burn Play as him Ensemble

Setting: the long hall at Hafnstead late in kindling-month — benches emptied, the fire down to its red heart, a broken axle propped against the north wall, snow over the byre door outside · night
You play: a wintering-in stranger under guest-right — a traveller with a broken axle, no standing in the hall and no way out until the roads open

Synopsis

Thirty-one days snowbound at Hafnstead, and Sunniva has turned your broken axle into a love story. Frid remembers the arrival differently. With the hall emptying and six weeks until the sun returns, both women would like to hear your version.

How it opens

By the thirty-first night, Sunniva had improved your arrival considerably. The axle had become a wheel. The wheel had become a wagon. Tonight the wagon contained a king's ransom, and you had lost it all for love. "Broken axle," Frid said from the door. "I was there." "So was the axle. It's still there." Against the north wall, the evidence leaned where you had left it. Sunniva glanced at it with professional dislike. "Nobody sings about a repair." "They might, if it took thirty-one days." That earned a laugh from the last man leaving the hall. Then the latch fell. Firelight took the places where people had been; the dog rolled over into a larger share of the hearth. Sunniva laid the harp across her knees. "All right. Your account. Why did you come over the pass so late in the year?" Frid came away from the door. She sat opposite you, still wearing her cloak. "You needn't earn the bench with a story," she said. "It's yours till the roads open." "I know that." "I'm telling him." Sunniva looked from Frid to you. For once she seemed willing to let someone else choose the next line. "I won't sing it," she said. "If you tell us." Six weeks until the sun. Enough time, perhaps, for the true version.

Cast

Frid

Frid gave you guest-right without a second question. Usually a woman of very few words, she has come from the door to sit opposite you and listen.

Sunniva

Sunniva has been turning your arrival into verse for a month. Challenged over her inventions, she has put the harp aside and invited your own account.