[i]"Frændi."[/i]

That word caught Seothrunn off-guard as he had not been expecting anyone from his region, and for a moment he stared at the woman who had taken her seat beside him with a look of surprise and relief. It was nice to hear a familiar word and accent, even if the person who said it came from a person whose people the Bonemen considered to be their only equals and rivals at sea. Now, however, they were on land, and Seothrunn was in neither the mood nor the mindset to start a fight. "[i]Skællmagde.[/i]" (Shieldmaiden) He returned the greeting with a nod, noting the shield she carried on her back, and the bulky sack that had to contain her belongings. 

Seothrunn had never personally faced the ships of these southern islanders, but from what he had heard, they were excellent sailors and fierce warriors. Worthy of respect, but ultimately the Gods saw fit to pit them and the Bonemen against one another. "[i]Kjalleta Seothrunn[/i]" (I am called Seothrunn) He introduced himself with a respectful bow of the head. "[i]Mär isk fjetta vasa dej Kjalle, varmlanda-tvester?[/i]" (May I know what you are called, southern sister?) He asked, wondering if she had any trouble getting her ship into port. Her people looked strikingly similar to the Bonemen, even though their actions were as different as night and day. Her people worked well with the kingdom, while the Bonemen raided their settlements. 

"[i]Isk hvapp vårakjalleset som mäk isvokk kasa-nejat rulvårr hir dej.[/i]" (I hope the reputation of my people caused no trouble for you) He said. To these southerners, they might have looked close enough for the guards to treat her as they treated him. He reached out and took two more of the same buns he had taken earlier. Despite his earlier mishap with one, they tasted wonderful. Not too sweet, but not too tasteless either, and there was a hint of butter flavouring the pastry itself. He handed one to the woman beside him and took a bite out of the other.