The Broken Jarl

Having decided on the final design fer Grummhorn, I knew it was gonna take some doing. I consulted with Frainr and others tae figger out what I’ll need, only t’ learn that we Dwarves aren’t masters o’ brass music. Our warhorns aren’t built fer more than one tone. Turns out what I need is a Nord crafter.
 
So, Spark in one hand and newly-made shield under th’ other arm, I managed t’ convince Margeaux ‘n Sand t’ join me in heading t’ Nordheim. We left Dun U’ri, headed fer th’ Staglands (damn Celts) and cut through the forests. We managed t’ find the centaur scout Mara an’ I presented her new shield. In return, she had us led t’ the road to Nordheim.
 
Seems the locals had a bit of a troll problem, as we found half a dozen stout warriors (half of ‘em already dead) battling a troll near the road. Been’ the foolhardy git’s we are — an’ I say this with no small pride, mind ye — we aided the sole survivor in takin’ the beast down fer good. An’ that poor fella! Half of him was scar and burns. His shield hung on a bad arm, but he still fought valiantly. Turns out these were old wounds, not troll-got.
 
We returned t’ his town, where we were invited to a feast at th’ longhouse. We were a bit surprised t’ find a pole with a bloody heap at its base just in front, but… well, Nords, y’see.