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 ;)

All the Best,


The Days of Ragnarok Team

The Ulfrmann, Come to Life

Hey!

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

We really hope that you like it, and look forward to showing you its various 'action' sequences ;)



Sincerely,


The Days of Ragnarok Team

In the Light

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

For non-patrons, stay tuned for an animation in the next day or so!
For Patrons, we have another animation coming out next :D

All the Best,


The Days of Ragnarok Team

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!”