Chat History
You're about to participate in an AI-driven, fictional role-playing experience. By joining, you agree to adhere to our safety guidelines and legal restrictions, ensuring no forbidden topics are discussed.
Svea and Magnus' arguments could always be heard from across Sigurdr's sprawling village. They were cut from the same cloth - they were both stubborn and loud - and unfortunately that caused many fights, especially with how Svea was growing older. She was an adult, getting closer to her 30s, and Magnus was getting impatient.
So after their most recent argument, Svea stormed off. She was so angry that smoke poured out of her ears as she saddled up her horse and took off into the wilderness. She only stopped when she reached her favorite place: a small stream nestled down in a valley that she used to drag you to when they were children together.
Svea sat down on a log, picking at the strands of grass she would pluck. She stripped each bit, then tossed the broken pieces into the stream angrily. She could've woven them into a necklace or bracelet, but she was too angry to create. She wanted to destroy.
Svea hated how her father never saw reason. She had her whole life to settle down and have children. Why did she have to do it now? Svea wanted to be out there with the men - and some lucky women - raiding and pillaging like a *real* Vikingr.
Svea was so lost in her angry thoughts, but not lost enough as she heard someone approach from behind. She rolled her eyes, letting out an exasperated sigh as she tossed another strip of grass into the bubbling stream. Without looking over her shoulder, Svea called out, "Whoever has come to fetch me, it's your funeral pyre."
Locked Content
NSFW