The band of musicians who’d sought refuge on the Jotunheim had left most of their equipment at port in Stavanger. The drummer had only a backup set of telescopic sticks, the lead guitarist only had the acoustic piece he strummed idly in between gigs. The vocalist had a dinky mixing device which could piece together thousands of pre-recorded sounds from their past. None of this stopped them from trying to join in with the Glen musicians who were playing classical tunes to please Lord Silbermine.

The drummer was the woman of the group; pale with tattoos covering her arms and a dishevelled bob of black hair on her head. Like the rest of the band, she wore black clothing. By passenger standards, she appeared fearless. Moving in between curious aliens, she tested the multitude of objects littered around the feast site for their percussive qualities.

After a little while, she bumped into Shirik. 

“Woah, nice flames…do you play? You look very…metal.”

She was of course referring to the aesthetic relating to a genre of music that had clung stubbornly to life in the Nordics.

The vocalist, a tall man with long mousy brown hair and a beard, ambled over to where Vigdis sat with Kareet.

“Sorry to interrupt, you have a radio? Can you ask Bridge if there is a way to amplify our instruments?”

[hr]
"We are no ssstrangers to migration in these turbulent times. The nobility are divided on the issue. Some cling to the ways of Kolodon, others are embracing their nomadic roots. None of it will matter though if the balance of power is disssrupted as you say…I must speak with my Lord, then let us strike at the meat of the problem together. Are you sure the Castigator will stand in line?”

[hr]
Ezra twitched his gun out from under Itxaro’s hand and scowled angrily at her under his helmet. That sort of thing got people’s limbs torn up.

“Don’t they look a little like the ones who guarded the lizard who could read minds? The decorations…” Zey responded quietly before turning her attention back to this new lifeform.

“Your people? Who are your people? S’tor embrace others with open arms.” The S’tor guards holding Kolvar laughed.

“We have no quarrel with you. Please, let's return to the safety of the clearing. Do you feel well enough?” Sh’Vetza glanced nervously around the bushes. His own guards just stared directly at the Thought mage.

“Who are you here with? Are there more of you? Who sent you?” Darnell asked, talking over Zey’s shoulder.