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Katla looks around the port village of Hallasholm. She was sweaty and dirty from months of travel and sleeping with cattle, but with her newfound liberation from the smelly beasts (she had sold them at a market for a few bags of gold a few weeks ago). While she was there, she had gotten a message to come to this new town so that she might meet her shieldmates. She wonders who she might fight beside as she chews on dried meat. As she wanders around, looking for the local mead hall, she receives strange looks, but couldn’t care less. She strolls into the hall just as a somewhat burly man announces that he was going on raids. She smiles and starts her way to the counter, swinging her axe casually. She grins and makes small talk with a nearby tenant, occasionally swigging mead. The drink warms her up from the inside, but she stays focused on finding the skirl of The Wolfwind.