A Warrior's Stance

A Warrior, Once Again

Ingrid hurriedly looked around her house, trying to remember where she put it.  Not many years ago, it would have been hanging up, proudly, reminding everyone who entered that she was a warrior.

There was a part of her that resented how much her past accomplishments had fallen by the wayside of her busy life as a mother.  She could remember how she had felt, thick clad in metal and leather, wielding her razor-sharp sword in one hand and her broad shield in the other.  Whenever she put it on, she could remember the beautiful and powerful warrior that she was, and the energy of her youth came pouring back into her.  The day before she had packed it away, she had put it on one last time, and had felt the very same as the first time she had gone into battle, ready to defeat the world.

The last time she wore it in battle was many years before that, but she had re-fitted her entire kit after giving birth to each child, upon finding each time that she could no longer put it on.  The last time, the armoursmith had given her a strange look when she told him what the new bust would have to be – but she had insisted that she wanted useable armour, and he had taken her coin.

Now, as she finally unearthed it from the various piles of work-related stock that her husband had stored in their house, she was able to appreciate his expression. 

Ingrid pulled the chainmail shirt into the air and shook loose the dust and debris which had collected on it,  noting its substantial weight.  It had become heavier with each ring added to increase its circumference, which had been quite a few more than she remembered.  The shape was still not enough to allow her chest to swell forth to the degree that it could in her dress, and so it provided a great deal of pressure and upward lift.

Bearing your body to the enemy wasn't quite 'warrior-like' in the strictest sense, but even so, she had found numerous times that men – those from Thule and elsewhere alike – found it quite distracting in combat, which she had always found helpful.  A number of her near-death experiences might not have ended so well, had the men she was fighting been staring at her sword rather than her breasts.

Remembering her haste, she unclasped the brooches on her apron and allowed the straps to fall apart.  They quickly pulled toward the ground and snaked around her shoulders, following the bulk of the apron's fabric as it slid off her body and pooled at her feet.

With that, she reached down and gripped the bottom of her dress, lifting it up and over her head.  When it was off, she was left in nothing more than the underlinens of her bra and panties.

The house had cooled since the morning, and the air felt cool on her exposed skin, so she quickly grabbed her pants and pulled them up her legs, fastening them tightly.  Next, she slipped on her shoes and wove her thick leg-wraps around each ankle.

Slipping her shirt over her head, Ingrid remembered just how little of her chest was covered when she wore her armour, leaving a great deal of skin exposed to the air and the casual glance of strangers.

Oh well she thought to herself, and hoisted her chainmail shirt over her head.

After wrestling herself into it, fastening its straps, and putting on her bracers and belt, she was finally finished – though any romantic notions of her old armour still fitting her perfectly had long been lost.

She reached down and picked up her sword, examining its edge.

I'll have to get that sharpened she noted, staring at the rather dull blade.

Finally ready, Ingrid turned and headed toward the door of her house.

As she moved towards the door, however, it swung open; in the doorway stood the large figure of her husband.

“What are you doing here?” she asked, shocked.  “Are you not working?”

Thorod moved into the house, answering as he closed the door behind him.

“I was.  Our son Bjarn said he spoke with you earlier and was afraid that you might do something dangerous, so he asked me to check on you and see that you're alright” he explained.

As the door shut and he turned to her, he hefted a sarcastic grin.

“But I see he had nothing to worry about” he joked, pointing to his wife in her battle gear.

Ingrid frowned.

“Did he care to mention why I was so concerned?” she asked her husband, who paused.

In truth, he had left as soon as Bjarn had told him that she might be rushing into a dangerous situation, and hadn't actually heard what she was upset about.  Instead, he had hurried off to find her.

“Well...” he said, not thinking fast enough.

Ingrid's frown deepened.

“Perhaps if he had, you would be seeing me off rather than trying to stop me” she said sharply.

While he didn't like to be attacked so outright, she had a very good point.

“Forgive me” he apologized.  “What was it that caused you so much concern?”

Ingrid was still upset, but her husband seemed sincere.

“Bjarn told me of terrible rumours from up North, where Sigrid is headed, of a curse and monstrous beasts” she explained.

Thorod raised an eyebrow.

“But those are just rumours...” he appealed to her, skeptical of such imaginings.

Ingrid shook her head.

“Do you remember quite a time ago, when I ventured North?” she asked.

“I do.”

“On that journey, we encountered dire wolves” she told him. “I was also separated from the others for a time...  whenin I uncovered evidence of a curse – and beasts so powerful that I should not have escaped.”

Thorod was almost at a loss for words, though he managed to maintain his skepticism.

“You did?” he asked her.

She nodded.  “I swear it.”

Thorod stood for a moment, knowing how much a woman like Ingrid valued her spoken oath.  No matter how unbeleivable the tale, he would have to take her at her word.

“And why did you never tell me?” he questioned, already knowing the answer.

“I was sworn to secrecy under oath” she explained.  “It was official business of the Earl, and I would never have spoken a word of it if I had not felt it was necessary.”

Thorod's focus shifted, now confident that what his wife told him was the truth.

“If you are meddling in things which pose such a danger, you cannot go alone” he demanded.

She smiled at him.

“You need not worry.  I'm off to the Earl's keep, to ask for his help” she assured him.

Neither of them believed that the Earl would lend any assitance, and Thorod focused on that truth.  The Earl was a powerful man, and a had done great deeds, but he was not generous.

“And what if he refuses?” he asked pointedly, but his wife had already thought he might ask.

“I have friends who owe me more than a few favours” she provided.  “They'll gladly take the chance to clear their debts.”

Thorod said nothing, simply looking at his wife's firm expression.

“Are you going to make this difficult?” she asked him, careful not to imply that he could actually stop her.

Thorod looked down, upset, then gave her a solemn smile.  No matter how hard he wished there were another way, and that the people he cared for would never be in danger, there was little he could do.

“Look after our daughter” he said to her.  He reached down and gripped her shield, then heaved it into the air, holding it at arm's length between them.

She smiled back at him, and took it, swinging it to her side.

“I will” she promised, though they both knew it wasn't something within her control.

With that, she walked past him and exited the door, not looking back. 

Thorod stood there for a moment, and an awful worry came to his mind, a terrible image flashing before his eyes.  For the first time since they married, she was leaving the safety of Osfjoll without having his seed firmly planted within her.

Spreading News

Following her meeting with Erland and their somewhat uncomfortable exchange, Ingrid's journey through the market returned to a more tranquil pace.

A few minutes of walking had her calm, though with each stride she was reminded of the dampness that remained between her thighs.  She had always hated that the wetness stayed so long after the warmth had faded away, and now she found it a constant reminder of the awful desires that had created it.  She tried to distract her thoughts, focusing on the calm air and the homely scenery.

She saw a friend of her son's, and her mind drifted to her husband and children.

I'm very fortunate to have a loving husband and family she told herself, feeling a warm sense of satisfaction at how well her children had grown into adults.

Her sons had become strong, handsome men, and her daughters were beautiful and courageous women.  All of them had taken after the best of their parents, and she felt enormous pride whenever she thought about them.

As she reached the center of the town, she stopped and took in the atmosphere that had arisen with the growing population and trade of the past ten or fifteen years.  When her children were born, the town had felt so small and calm; nowadays, it had begun to feel like a bustling port, and she could even spot a number of people who she had never met.

When she saw an unfamiliar mother and daughter walking along, she felt a sudden surge of anxiety.

I hope that Sigrid is alright she thought to herself, worrying about what her daughter might be doing at that very moment.  She's so young and naive about the pain that exists in this world.

Ingrid had tried to instill in her children an appreciation of life and all its wonders, but also a sense of the trials and dangers that all people faced; with Sigrid, she felt that she had failed in achieving the latter.  She had existed largely in a world of fantasy, chasing after the dreams that Ingrid had held onto for too long into Sigrid's childhood.  Perhaps if she had told fewer stories of battles, spoils, and glory, then Sigrid wouldn't have become so obsessed with proving herself by those same measures.

Before she could dwell on the thought any longer, she spotted a young couple walking towards her, immediately recognizing her eldest son Bjarn and his wife.

Bjarn's wife was a woman whose beauty was only surpassed by her strength, which was not an opinion that Ingrid had of many women besides herself.  Her son was a powerful and handsome man, and she wasn't surprised that he had managed to earn an equally impressive wife – though she had thought for some time that no such maiden existed in these parts.

Despite the odds, and Bjarn's combative attitude, he had managed to find an excellent wife, which made Ingrid very happy as a mother.  She could almost imagine her grandchildren, who she knew – if Bjarn had half the appetite that his father did at his age – would be along quite soon.

When the two of them approached, she tried to clear her mind of all the negative thoughts which had been floating through it throughout the day and focus on how fortunate she was in her life.  A smile slowly spread across her face, and she saw the approaching youngsters smile in response.

“Mother!” Bjarn called out to her, obviously glad to happen across her in town.

He had built a house on the other side of Osfjoll a few years back, where he lived with his wife and where they planned to raise their children.

“Well met, Son” Ingrid replied as she reached them.  “How goes it?”

Bjarn grinned. 

“It goes well.” he replied.  “We decided to walk the town after some business in the market.  And you?”

“Heading through town to clear my mind, and fetch some supplies for the next few days.”

Bjarn shifted uncomfortably.

“That's good to hear.  Hopefully there's nothing too awful to clear away” he said, chuckling.

“What's bothering you, Bjarn?” she asked him.

The way his eyes flitted between the two women standing by him told her that he didn't want to tell her, and that his wife already knew, so she decided to become more direct.

He opened his mouth to give some excuse, but his mother interrupted him before he could.

“I know you're hiding something” she accused.  “Out with it!”

Her son still stayed silent, but now his wife spoke.

“Just tell her, husband” she demanded.  “You're not the sort of man who can keep a secret from his mother.”

He shot her a bitter glance, but caved in to the pressure from the two women.

“Alright, alright.  I'll tell you – though you might wish that I hadn't once I open my mouth” he grumbled.

“Well?” his mother pushed, impatiently.  “Tell it.”

Everyone could tell that Bjarn wasn't pleased at how easily he had been coerced, but began to speak regardless.

“We were speaking with Erland, and he told us about something...” he preambled.

Ingrid's heart nearly stopped, her mind racing at the possibility of what he had told her family.

“Apparently there are rumours of beasts in the North...” he continued.

Ingrid felt calmed for a moment, but then hesitated on why the news had been so secretive.

“And why did you want to keep that from me?” she prodded, her son still looking uncomfortable.

“Well... there are a group of warriors being sent to investigate the rumours...” he continued, dragging out the ordeal.

“And?” Ingrid repeated, starting to become frustrated.

“We thought you'd be upset if you knew...” he warned.  “They were sent by the Earl personally...  and Sigrid is among them.”

At those last words, Ingrid felt her body become cold and stiff.  Imagining those beasts attacking her daughter, and what they would do to her if she couldn't resist them...

“I have to go home” she said abruptly.

Bjarn wasn't thrilled by the response, though it was by no means the worst that he could have expected. 

“Don't do anything rash.  She's with very respectable warriors, who are sworn to her safety.  You don't have to be concerned for the safety of a capable shieldmaiden like her.”

Ingrid smiled.

“Then you don't worry about me” she shot back.

“You don't have to worry about Sigrid, mother, she'll be fine” Bjarn assured her.

Despite their words, Ingrid was already turning away from them.  “Take care of yourselves” she said, quickly walking away.

“What are you going to do?” Bjarn called to her, demanding an answer.

“Don't worry about me” Ingrid called back to him.

Bjarn began to ask her word that she wouldn't do anything hasty, but before they could hope for another response, she had completely disappeared.

“Do you think that she'll be alright?” Helga said, genuinely concerned.

Bjarn paused for a moment, thinking on it.  “I'm not entirely sure...” he said, pausing.

“She's a strong woman, but I think that I should ask my father to check on her – just in case” he concluded.

The two of them stood there, thinking about Ingrid and all that was happening.

“These recent weeks have been difficult for her” she said with a sigh.  “I hope that she'll be alright when this is all over.”

The Path We Travel

It was becoming a wonderful morning, as Ingrid strolled through the small town that she called her home.

The air still maintained the chill of the winter winds, yet the sun had gained enough strength in the past few days to leave the the skin feeling warm and comfortable.

This far South, the climate of Thule was quite livable most of the time, and this point in spring was Ingrid's favourite time of the year.

She had lived here for decades, even before she had married Thorod and settled down to raise a family, and she had walked the path through town many hundreds of times in that span.

As she passed the familiar houses, she could almost recall the day that she had first come to the market, shortly after she had arrived in Osfjoll.

Ingrid loved the town, and felt connected to all of the people who roamed its sometimes busy streets. Perhaps, in part, she felt so connected to the place because she could remember no others.

She had no memories at all of her of her life before coming to Osfjoll, and her mother had never wanted to discuss it with her. She had asked many times where they had come from, or what had become of her father, but her mother would never say. It had upset her more and more as the years passed. When her mother became very sick and died, she had become bitter, realizing that she would never know where she came from.

In the few years after her mother had passed away, Ingrid had been left feeling very angry and alone, which she had dealt with by leaving this place. While it had been her home for as long as she could remember, those very memories were what brought back the pain of losing her mother again and again. She decided to follow her dreams of traveling the world, and becoming a renowned warrior, and had asked to join the raids – despite the many risks. She ventured off to far-away lands, and fought thousands of other warriors, some of whom nearly ended her life. In honesty, she wondered if her broken heart had wanted an easy end in those days.

Now was different, though.

Despite all that had happened, she loved her mother very much, and had eventually forgiven her. Ingrid often told herself that whatever her mother had experienced before coming to Osfjoll, it must have been very difficult for her to live through Perhaps in some way, she was trying to protect Ingrid from that same pain. Whether isolating her from the past had been the right choice or not, her mother had been a beautiful woman, in both body and spirit, and had inspired Ingrid to become the woman that she respected herself for being.

Ingrid looked around at the happy faces all around her as she entered the market, people smiling to her and greeting her as she passed them by. These days, she found solace in the connection that she had to this place. She knew nearly all of them, by name, by face, and by deed, and knew that they also knew her.

The fishmonger, the hunter, the breadmaker, the butcher... she thought, letting her eyes wander over the people of her town.

When her eyes met those of Erland, the smith, she felt herself swell with heat.

 Even after all these years, seeing him affected her as if they were still the young lovers they had once been. Like her husband, Erland had the strong and full figure of a man who worked metal, which was the type of man who had always been able to affect her body. From his broad shoulders, to his strong arms, to his tied-back river of dark hair, he had been the man of her dreams growing up in the small town.

Even back then, she had felt like this whenever he was around, and had spent years without telling him how she felt about him. As the familiar warmth spread down from her face and through her body, she began to feel shame and arousal. When the sensation reached the crux of her legs, she knew that she should continue on without speaking to him. Since last year, her body had been reacting to him more than ever, and she had almost entirely avoided speaking with him – out of respect for both her husband and their family friend.

Glancing back, however, she saw him waving to her, and knew that she couldn't walk away without at least saying hello.

As Ingrid approached, Erland's smile widened and he called out to her.

"Ingrid, good to see you!" he said with a grin.

"Hello Erland" she said, finally reaching him.

He stepped out from behind a large rack of tools, and came even closer to her.

"Oh, I--" she began as she realized what he was doing, but she was cut off as his large frame encircled her and pressed all around her gently.

She felt her resolve wane for a moment as her pert nipples were gently squeezed between her large breasts and the firm muscle of Erland's chest, but return as her mind drifted to the memories of how the same thing felt when their bodies had been bare.

As their bodies parted and she could see him in full view, she couldn't help but notice the large shape that snaked down the leg of his pants.

"I wanted to ask you something, but I haven't seen you around lately" Erland continued. Ingrid was trying to remain reserved, but didn't want to be rude.

"Yes?" she asked.

 "Well I have to head Northeast on a shipment, and I need someone to come with me. Someone I can trust to help guard my goods, and someone who knows the area" he continued.

Ingrid knew exactly where he was headed, but simply waited for him to say his piece. "

I was hoping that you would come" he finally suggested, smiling.

Ingrid's heart started to beat fast, despite her urging it to stop.

"I couldn't do that, Erland" she said with an air of finality.

Erland looked upset, and immediately raised his hands in protest.

"It would be worth the sacrifice, I promise!" he objected. "You won't need to fight off more than a single wolf – a pack at most" he joked.

 Ingrid laughed, then kicked herself for being so easy to charm.

"I really shouldn't" she said firmly.

 Now Erland's smile broadened again. "I can see the glimmer of adventure in your eye, just where it's always been."

 Ingrid tried not to smile, but Erland could tell that she was doing so.

"I can tell that you want to, even if you swear otherwise" he said assuredly. "I'll bring some of that ale that you liked, and we can catch up like last time."

Now her heart was pounding, surging her blood around her body, as the memories of that night came to the forefront of her mind. She could see the shape in his pants moving at his suggestion, the way it had moved against her thigh.

"I can't" she said, filled with embarrassment at how her body was betraying her. Despite every drop of her spirit knowing it was wrong, she wanted to play with the chance that she might be weak and give in to temptation.

"Consider the thought, at least" Erland appealed to her.

Ingrid paused, knowing that she shouldn't give the thought any room to grow, but wanting it to.

"Alright..." she said, causing Erland to beam at her. "I'll think about it..."

Erland seemed to be finally satisfied with that, and simply thanked her for considering his proposal.

"I swear that if you join me, I'll make this trip just as enjoyable as the last" he promised.

 Ingrid ignored the suggestion, telling him that she needed to head further into town, and he finally let her go without another word. Still, she knew that he would ask her again, and that she would be tempted again.

 Thorod is a good man, and I love him she thought to herself. I couldn't betray him again.

As she walked away, Erland took a few moments to take in the beauty of her form. He could still remember how incredible she looked bare, her body completely exposed to his gaze. The gentle sway of her hips reminded him of how sensually they moved against his, as they laid together. He knew that she wanted to feel that again.

When she finally rounded a corner, he gave a deep sigh. This night, he would once again have only his memories of her.

Sigrid, in All of Her Beauty

We thought that you'd probably wondered what Sigrid would look like under all that clothing, so LadyStripes took some time to touch up her skin between working on Sigrid's 'action' animations.

Since she's the main character in our story, we hope that you find her enjoyable to look at ;)

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The Ulfrmann, Come to Life

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If you haven't seen it on our Patreon yet, here is the first Ulfrmann animation!

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In the Light

If you liked the promo for the Ulfrmann, then we hope you'll like the in-game asset!

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From the Shadows

Northern Thule was a cold, harsh place, they said, where only the hardiest of people could survive – much less thrive.

Along the coast stretched vast inlets with staggering, sharp cliffs on either side. Inland, the mountains continued for a ways, then thinned until they only dotted the horizon. Between them lay rich valleys and clean lakes, filled with the glacial waters of the yearly melt.

Though the springs were late and cool, and summers were warm and pleasant, the autumn air brought the famed chill to hills and mountains.

When winter hit the land, it became unrecognizable.

The sprawling meadows were transformed into vast stretches of barren snow, the forest grew still and empty spare for a few game animals that could also survive the harsh climate. The whole North became a wasteland of white for months, though they stretched on like years to the few who were brave enough to stay for them.

The reasons why some chose to stay varied greatly, but the main reason was evident in the Southerners who chose to venture to Thule; despite the challenges of climate, and the loneliness of living so far from the great cities of the South Lands, harsher places always held on firmly to their natural wealth. There was no end to the ancient timbers, the healthy game, and the dense ores which were long exploited in areas to the South, and all that lived so far North were aware of that fact.

In the West, near the mountains, there was a small town by the name of Ljosavatn, which was home to no more than twenty families and a hundred others. The population rose and fell with the temperature, it seemed, and this cool morning in early spring marked the beginnings of its growth.

The past few days, familiar travelers and strangers alike had been filtering in from farther south, heading up to follow the snow line. While the weather was good, they would attempt to gather up what precious commodities they could, then head back when the chilled autumn air signaled their departure. Among those who came, many found shelter in the inns and taverns of the North, and the Inn of Ljosavatn was no exception.

The town's largest tavern was on the first floor of the inn, and so it was often packed until the late hours of the night. On the days when travelers would stay for more than a quick rest, the merriment could be heard until the sun cracked over the tall forest to the East.

Today, the sun had already journeyed from the forest and across the sky, and had just dipped below the towering mountains in the West, setting with a brilliant display of red on the horizon.

Within the tavern, under the inn, both travelers and village-folk had begun to drink and talk, discussing the various rumours that danced on tongues throughout the land of Thule.

“Did you hear that the King is entertaining a party from the far South?” one man passed on to the table of people around him, while another went on about the state of the fleet.

One man's story about his last raid was abruptly cut short as the barmaid passed by and his table-mates called out their orders for another round of mead.

“I'll have it right to you” she called back, moving through what no one but a Northerner would describe as a crowd.

The long wooden tables with benches on each side made for a great deal of seating, but moving between then could be quite challenging when loaded down with several litres of alcohol. Before Erika Hallisdotter had gained her many years of experience, she had always wondered how the barmaids made such things look easy.

“Don't hurry past” a man said, turning to her as she moved by him. She instinctively twisted her body and shifted around him, trying to stay far enough away that he couldn't touch her body as she passed.

Dealing with drunken men with no manners was also part of the job, and one which she was growing tired of. Though she was a practical woman who spent little time on her appearance, her wide hips and beautiful face made up for any advantage that might give her.

You're heading home soon, and he isn't worth your time she thought to herself, deciding not to have him thrown out of the inn.

After she had made her way around the tavern a few more times, she was done for the day and more than ready to leave. She preferred the calm, familiar tone of the off-season, and was already becoming tired of the constantly changing crowds. Granted, having consistent pay and therefore a place to sleep were perks of her job, and she wouldn't have traded that for the world.

“Heading home, dear?” the Innkeeper asked her, noticing that she was packing up some fresh bread to take with her.

She turned to him and smiled, her soft features looking as charming as ever.

“Mhm” she hummed. “Could I take home some of that fresh roast?” she asked, beaming.

He smiled back.

“Help yourself, dear. Gods know you're half the reason I have customers at all” he joked, though it might be true had they any other place to buy fresh drink.

Erika thanked him and sliced off a portion of the tender roast, which had just cooled enough to eat. As she cut, the smell of it made her mouth begin to water.

“I'll be back in the morning, Thorstein” she said to him, still smiling.

He nodded to her and wished her well, and she headed toward the entrance of the tavern.

Half way there, she ran into a couple of regulars who passed through each year on their way farther North, and considered saying hello to them before leaving. They were having a conversation about their journey, and she overheard one of them mention turning back, which caught her attention.

“And why would you do that?” she asked them, cutting into their conversation.

They looked up surprised, but then smiled as they saw her familiar face.

Both opened their mouths to answer, but the thinner and taller fellow responded first.

“There's rumours of dire wolves all throughout these parts... and a dark cave to the Northwest where you can hear the screams of the cursed!”

“He's become the coward I always knew he was” the other chimed in. “A true Northman doesn't fear stories.”

“I swear I saw one!” the other man shouted back, obviously sincere. “It was big, half your height, and it looked just like they say!”

The shorter and hardier man laughed, causing his thick beard to shake and scatter some bread crumbs over their table.

“Pay no attention to his imaginings. He had too much ale the night before last” he mocked.

“I did no such thing! I was steady on my two feet.”

“Enough!” the stout man called. “There haven't been dire wolves in an age.”

Erika hesitated.

“You mean that they're real?” she asked the thick-bearded man.

He nodded. “Indeed, but gone for so long it matters not.”

The other man didn't seem convinced.

“It does. Dire wolves are the fiercest of breeds, lone wolves, and they were known to hunt a grown man.”

Erika shrugged.

“I'm a grown woman. I can handle wolves” she assured them.

“Grown, but still young. They'd like to handle you” the thin man chuckled.

“What do you mean? Do wolves care for young women more than any others?” Erika asked, now curious again.

This time, the wider man answered.

“Before else, you should know that dire wolves are wolves by name only; They're magical creatures, not mere beasts. You should also know that in all the tales of dire wolves, there was never a female to be seen.”

“And? What does that mean?” she prodded.

“As the stories go, they would breed with the women of the North who ventured too far into the wilderness...”

Erika laughed, amused by the imaginings of men. “I'll be fine, then. I'm not venturing beyond the town.”

At that, another voice came up from behind her.

“Beasts more dangerous than dire wolves are roaming these parts, and they would gladly venture into town to get between thighs as smooth as yours.”

The three of them spun around to look, and found a man who had been sitting in the corner quietly until that night. Her face soured; She had no more patience for rudeness this evening.

“The only beast in town this night is you, and Valhalla will come before you get between my thighs” she teased.

The other two laughed, as did a few others who overheard.

“I should be heading home, now.” she said to the two men. “I'll see you both at first light, or after you sleep off all that ale.”

The two gave a hardy chuckle and bid her farewell, and she finally continued on her way.

As she passed through the door.

“Be careful” the lone man said, but she ignored him and walked out.

As Erika began to walk home, she felt the familiar chilled air of the early spring. It nipped at the exposed skin on her neck and legs, and make her shiver. Luckily, she would be back home in a few minutes.

The sun had fallen deep below the mountains now, and the only natural light was shining down from the bright moon.

Those people and their stories. Who would believe such ridiculous stories? She thought to herself. They must think that I'm terrified, walking along like this.

As Erika reached a small corner house, she turned around it and suddenly jumped – spotting a large figure standing by the path, only to realize that it was just another person walking. Taking a moment to breathe, she began to realize that the talk of dire wolves had bothered her at least a little.

I should be worried about real wolves, not 'magical creatures' she chided.

As she continued, however, she noticed herself starting to shake slightly and feel uncomfortable. The person standing by the path hadn't moved, but she felt as if they were staring into her.

As they finally took a step forward, she stopped in her tracks, blood cold as ice.

Standing in front of her was a wolf, as tall as a towering man, standing on its hind legs.

She swallowed hard, barely able to breathe and unable to make a sound.

What is that thing?

Morning Light

I awoke and remembered where I was, laying on the comfortable bed that I'd crawled into last night. I opened my eyes and stared at the pallid gray walls, which were quite a ways from where I slept -- situated near the center of the large bedroom.

Despite its thick stone frame, the air of the Earl's keep let in the stiff chill of morning, and I could feel it nipping at my exposed left cheek.

It was still quite dark, but the light from the moon shone in through the small barred windows of the room. I could feel something in the still air, and knew that it would be sunrise soon – not more than an hour before we would head off to the North. I often awoke before dawn when I was filled with anticipation, and this was no exception.

Despite all of that excitement, however, I found myself hesitating to get up.

My mind wandered over the details that I had been given, and went round and round trying to decide if I believed any of it. Even if it were true, beasts are just beasts. I had hunted wolves before, and taken down large game. There was no way for this to be beyond us.

Does he really think that we might not make it? I asked myself, but the thought was quickly snuffed out.

He doesn't know me, or what I'm capable of surviving. If he did, then he wouldn't doubt me.

I found myself inspired, in the midst of the darkness and uncertainty, to sit up in my bed, turn, and place my feet firmly on the ground. I wasn't going to stop until I proved myself, I thought, standing upright.

My resolve once again cemented, I decided that I would go to the hall and see if any of the others had awoken.

Making my way over to the table where I had laid my equipment, my mind began to wander and I found myself imagining what the North towns might look like. I had never been so far from home, and there were stories of the wondrous buildings in places like Ljosavatn.

I carefully picked up my pants and slipped them on, then did the same with my shirt.

What sorts of people live up North, I wonder? I imagined that tough, grizzled giants like my father were the only ones who could survive up there, if the winters were anything like people said.

I pulled my tunic over my head and adjusted it, then laced my belt onto my torso. Finally, I stepped into my boots and laced them up to my knees – then folded over the soft leather at the tops.

I suppose I'll find out soon, I concluded.

Picking up my sword and shield, I moved to the door and opened it, moving through and striding toward the hall – until I heard a pained sound from the room next to mine.

What was that? I thought to myself, suddenly feeling very alert.

The sound had definitely come from inside the room, and I found myself moving towards the door without considering whether or not doing so was wise – a habit which my mother had warned me was very dangerous.

That room is Ellisif's I recalled. I wonder if she's alright?

As I approached the door, I heard another sound like the first, only a little louder. It definitely sounded like a girl, but I couldn't quite say what the sound was. It sounded intense, like a cry for help or someone straining to save themselves. I got to the door and leaned in, listening for the sound.

When my ear finally pressed against the thick planks that made up the door, I was surprised by how well smoothed the surface was. Obviously, the Earl had gone to some expense to ensure that every part of his keep was high-quality. As my ear held firm against the wood, my thoughts were suddenly gone.

“Mmm...” I heard the voice moan.

It was definitely a woman, but the intensity that I had heard was the deepness of a moan...

I began to feel very embarrassed.

I shouldn't be listening to a girl in her room I thought, pulling away from the door.

“You're so tight...” a male voice murmured.

I stopped.

Despite the feeling that I shouldn't eavesdrop, I felt a burning curiosity at who might be inside the room. Was it Ulfr? Was it one of the others? I couldn't help but continue to listen, captivated by the wrongness of what I was doing.

“Mmm” I heard again, from the girl.

Is that Ellisif? I wondered, my imagination suddenly very active.

As I stood there, listening, the moans grew deeper and louder, and the man began to join in with his low-pitched grunts and shallow gasps. I hadn't ever been with a man, but I had heard such sounds many times from my parents' room at home.

I continued to listen, my mind swimming with images of what that mysterious man might be doing to that beautiful girl, my head feeling light and warm. I felt a jolt of excitement each time I heard them moan, and I resisted the temptation to feel with my hand how it was affecting my body.

The woman's cries were becoming more intense, and I could hear a faint and repeated slapping sound that I knew could only be one thing. As the slapping grew in speed and volume, I heard the woman suddenly burst out before muffling her voice.

“Ah! Nnngg! Mm--” she moaned, though her voice now sounded pained.

I wondered what was happening to make her sound that way, as if she was overwhelmed by what was happening and unable to hold in her voice. Thinking back on the times that I had been awake to hear my parents, I had never heard my mother make that sound.

My eyes widened as I heard a sound that I did recognize: The deep grunting of the man, as he began to go wild and spill his seed. My sister had told me about the feral release of the men she had been with, and it sounded as animalistic in person as in her descriptions.

I listened as the two voices echoed together through the room, not nearly as quiet as they had been before, until they faded out and quieted.

When I noticed an intense warmth between my thighs, I felt embarrassed and ashamed, realizing that I was indulging in the kinds of perversion that only existed at fertility festivals. I moved away from the door, trying to remember what I was doing before I had heard the noise.

Before I could remember, however, I heard the sound of Ellisif's door being unlatched, and I quickly moved behind a large wooden column which obscured my figure.

The door swung open slowly, cautiously, and I could see a person looking out from within. Whoever they were, they clearly didn't want to be known.

Who is that? I wondered, desperately trying to see the figure in the dim candlelight.

After a few moments, the figure – who I could tell now was a man – moved swiftly out of the door and spun around to close it, then moved away from me down the hall. In spite of my effort, I couldn't tell who it was, though I did notice his height and build – which was strikingly similar to that of Ellisif's brother.

Was that really Orvar? I thought, disturbed by the very idea that he would be doing something like that with his sister. I had brothers of my own, and they would never want to be with me.

My thoughts were interrupted by footsteps from behind me, past my room, and I panicked unnecessarily. Unsure where to go, I found myself fleeing back to the bedroom where I had awoken, shutting the door behind myself.

The footsteps continued for a short time, but eventually fell silent, allowing me to take a deep breathe and relax. After some thought, I realized that I had no need to be afraid; no one knew what I had been doing, or how it had affected me. I looked up at the window, though which the first few rays of morning light had begun to shine.

There was a sudden knock on the door, and my head spun to face the sound.

“Sigrid?” someone called from the other side. I felt calm again, as soon as I realized that the voice belonged to Geirny.

“Yes?” I replied.

“Good, you're up. It's time to prepare.”

I walked back to the door and opened it, met with Geirny's friendly gaze.

“Don't bother with your things, dear” she said, gesturing at my equipment. “Those will be packed for you.”

I nodded and placed my sword and shield on the ground beside the bed, then she gestured for me to lead the way out of the room. As we left, I heard a sound from her.

“Are you alright, Geirny?” I asked.

She hesitated for a few moments, with an expression of deep thoughtfulness, but eventually spoke.

“I wanted to warn you about the people that you're traveling with, Sigrid. I know that your mother would want me to, despite the trouble it could cause me. People like Ulfr and Agmundr aren't to be trusted, unless you want to find yourself in grave danger. Do you understand?”

I thought about what she was saying, and took it very seriously.

“I'll be fine, Geirny, I promise. I'm older than people think I am.”

She seemed concerned at my words, but left it at that.

“After you” she gestured, and I began to move forward again.

When we reached the hall, most of the others were already there. The only two who weren't, I noticed, were Orvar and Ellisif.

When they finally did arrive, I noticed that Orvar was the same height as I remembered him – and the same height as the man who had left his sister's room. Despite that, he gave no outward sign that he had been with a woman only minutes ago.

Looking over Ellisif, however, I could still see the hints that she'd been with a man recently; she had flushed cheeks, her lips were bright red, and her eyes seemed to look out with an otherworldly intensity. I found myself once again wondering if it was possible that it had been Orvar.

Maybe I imagined it...

I was still staring at the two of them when Agmundr approached me.

“You're Thorodsdotter, yes?” he asked in a cold tone.

I turned to face him and was surprised by his size. Though not tall, his frame was wider and more full than I had noticed the night before. If he was the 'hand of the Earl' as people called him, then he was a clenched fist.

“Yes?” he repeated.

I gave a quick nod.

“Good. I need to know who I count on when the swords come out, and the Earl said your mother was quite the shieldmaiden” he stated knowingly. “Can I count on you to follow my orders, no matter what happens?”

I swallowed hard, wondering what Geirny had meant about Agmundr.

“You're in charge, so I have to” I said, trying to sound matter-of-fact about it.

“Right” he said, bluntly. I saw a strange look in his eye as he said the word, and I felt my stomach shift uncomfortably.

As he turned and left, I couldn't escape the feeling that I should have asked Geirny what she had meant, though I knew it was too late.

“We're all ready, so follow me” Agmundr called to the group, starting to walk out and head toward the main entrance of the building. People slowly followed, filtering out, and I followed along. I couldn't tell if the others were hesitating because it was early, or because they had begun to doubt themselves, but I had managed to pass most of them by the time we reached the stables.

When we got there, the horses were already waiting for us with our supplies and equipment, and Agmundr was already fully prepared.

“We can't waste any more time” Agmundr called to the group as he mounted his large stallion, now towering above us all. “Make haste!”

Running with the Wolves

Hi everyone,

Here is the first draft of the Dire Wolf running animation.

I want to make all of the movements as accurate to their real or theoretical counterparts as I can, so I watched a lot of videos and some scientific footage.

I hope you like it :)




LadyStripes

P.S. The recording isn't the best, but it shows the Dire Wolf moving in-game. You can find it on our Patreon, if you head over there.  Imagine the video, but with the quality of the gif ;)

We're Finally on the Map

We're pleased to announce...

The brand new Map UI!

This is the last of the main graphical UIs, which means that we're just about done the overall UI :)




While this is obviously a demo map, it shows the general look and feel that we're aiming for. We're planning to keep the same style, but add in a lot more areas.

We copied the style of some old maps, and threw in a little 'Thule' style. We hope you like it!

As you may have noticed, there is an indicator to display where key characters currently reside. We're hoping that between this, the journal, and the dialogue, you will have an easy time keeping track of where all of your favourite characters are.

We hope that you enjoy the map, and look forward to sharing more of our progress!

All the Best,


SpaceTea

Our Inventory of UIs Grows Again

After some touch-ups to the overall UI, we decided that it was time to share the details of the new and improved Inventory UI.

The interface is rather straightforward, with two sections of note.

Firstly, on the right, we have the general inventory -- where Sigrid keeps all of her items. From there, she can equip, drop, or use items, as well as performing any other activities specific to the item. For instance, we're working on various oblong objects which will have exciting and unique uses.

On the left, we have the Equipment section of the UI.

This shows Sigrid's currently equipped weapon, shield, necklace, ring, clothing / armour (top and bottom), and underwear (top and bottom).

Using the equipment UI, Sigrid can equip items and unequip items, and the currently equipped items show on the preview to the left.

 Lastly, Sigrid's current wealth is shown at the bottom left of the page in the form of Gold, Silver, and Bronze coins. For simplicity, 1 Gold is 100 Silver and 1 Silver is 100 Bronze.

We hope that you like the new Inventory UI, and we're looking forward to posting more of our new content!

All the Best,


SpaceTea and LadyStripes

Introducing, the Status UI!

Now that the game is a lot more developed, and we’ve had to implement the stats as part of making the game playable, we thought it was about time that the stats actually showed up somewhere...

Therefore, we have put together the first draft of the User Interface responsible for showing you the character’s current status – the Status UI!

Along with showing the main stats (health, energy, and arousal), the status UI shows a variety of stats that were otherwise only mentioned in SpaceTea’s programming. These are divided into combat stats (in green), agility stats (in blue), and sexual stats (in red).

Combat Stats

The combat stats are relatively straightforward, with only five stats.

Strength is the base power of your attacks, and contributes to dealing damage and causing the enemies to stagger.

Endurance is how quickly physical tasks drain energy, as well as your overall supply of energy.

Armour is the current combined value of all armour items.

Sword Damage is the damage inflicted by the character’s sword. The minimum is shown in green, and the range from minimum to maximum is shown as a blue section beyond that.

Shield Strength is the amount of damage that the character’s shield can take (in one hit) without shattering.

Agility Stats

Agility is the ability of the character to recover from staggers without falling, as well as the ability to dodge and do other activities which involve balance.

Dexterity is the accuracy of the character’s attacks, as well as their ability to do fine-motor tasks (like picking locks).

Attack, Block, and Dodge Speeds are just that: They represent the amount of time that an action takes to complete.

Sexual Stats

First, you’ll notice that Sigrid is a fertile virgin in this shot, which is how she always starts off. The game keeps track of virginity (both anal and vaginal) and has a relatively complex fertility cycle and impregnation system, which will all be discussed further.

As far as the other sexual stats, the system relies on the conflict between three forces: Conscious desire, subconscious desire, and physical gratification.

Consciously, the character has a certain willingness to engage in sexual acts. This is augmented by psychological factors (which aren’t displayed to the player), and various with the type of sex act and the partner. The base value of this force is the Willingness stat.

Subconsciously, the character has sexual desires that build with time and exposure to sexual situations. This manifests overall as the Arousal stat.

In the game, the character will only be able to overpower their base desires with their conscious decisions to the degree relative to their Willpower stat.

The last force is the Stimulation stat, which is a representation of the physical stimulation of the character’s body. At the same time as Willpower sharpens the will and makes conscious desires more powerful, Stimulation clouds the mind and makes base desires more potent. When stimulation reaches its precipice, the character reaches an orgasmic state of base need.

Finally, you probably noticed the reputation near the top; the reputation will be specific to the area that the character is currently in, and will show how the inhabitants of a specific area feel towards the character. Our hope is that this will not only unlock a number of special scenes and other side-content, but will serve as a general indicator of how the main plot is progressing within a particular area.

We hope you enjoyed seeing the new Status UI, and we’re excited to show off the Inventory and Map UIs in the next few days!

All the Best, LadyStripes and SpaceTea, The Days of Ragnarok Team

The Journal

Having completed a good chunk of the UI, we wanted to start showing it off!

All four of the icons from the main UI have their own interfaces; we have one for the pack, the journal, the status, and the map.   First, let’s show you the journal interface.

The journal will be the epicentre of the game’s UI, with several tabs relating to different features.

Quests Tab:

This tab shows you all of the quests that you have been offered, including the next step(s) in the main questline.  The main quest line will vary depending on a number of factors, which we hope will give the game a lot of replay value.

In addition, we’re going to have a wide variety of side-quests which will reward you with special items, achievements, useable items (like health potions), etc.  We’re aiming for the side-quests to be truly voluntary, so finishing them won’t be required to complete the ‘base version’ of the main quest line.

As you can see from the picture, each quest will be displayed.

Sexual History Tab:

This tab keeps track of important sexual statistics about your character, including who (or what) they lost their virginity to, how many times they’ve performed different sex acts, and who their partners were in those experiences.

The achievements tab will contain a variety of achievements related to this tab.

Achievements Tab:

The achievements tab will have a filter called ‘hints’ and a filter called ‘spoilers’. 

The ‘hints’ will toggle the visibility of hints, which will be there to help you determine how to earn the achievements.  To unlock an achievement for discovering a hidden relationship, for instance, the hint might say “I wonder where [name]’s father is...” 

The ‘spoilers’ toggle will show you exactly what you have to do to unlock the achievements.  For instance, an achievement for finding all of the different underwear in the game would probably say “To earn this, unlock all of the underwear in the game.”

Notes Tab:

We wanted to give the player somewhere to keep notes in-game, because we’ve always appreciated games that had the feature.  It’s not something crucial to the game, but we wanted to put it in for the sake of convenience.

This tab is simple:  You type in notes, and they stay there for reference.

So that’s the Journal UI in a nutshell.  Tell us what you think!

If there’s anything that you’d like us to add in, or any other comments, we’d love to hear from you!

All the best,

LadyStripes and SpaceTea,

The Days of Ragnarok Team