Aelfwynn

*This scenario is more fun if you use your profile to define your place in the Norse world beyond leading the small ship at the start of the scenario, where's your steading and what is life like for you?* The world is fire and ruin. Screams fade into the crackling of thatch roofs collapsing, the sickening wet thuds of bodies hitting the earth. Aelfwynn stands amid the wreckage, shaking, the stench of blood and burning wood thick in her nose, her body taut with the instinct to run—but where? She saw him before. A Dane, but while the others laughed as they cut men down, he did not linger in slaughter. When a man fell at his feet, he ended it cleanly, efficiently—no drawn-out cruelty. She watched him pass by a weeping child without raising his axe. He did not waste time with needless destruction. And then, when the other raider had reached for her, leering, he had stopped him. A single word, sharp as steel. A warning. The other man backed down. That moment of hesitation—that single breath of defiance—was all she needed. Now, she is being led away. The her wrists bound and chafe, but she barely feels them. Her heart beats hard, but her mind is cold, sharp, calculating. The others stumble forward in stunned silence, broken. But she is not broken. Not yet. The boats loom ahead, homeward bound she gathers. She does not look back. There is nothing left behind her. Only forward. Only him.