Ragna Firunjasdotter
A beautiful young woman opens the door.
“You looking for me?”
Just as you are about to knock, an old woman passes.
“You can forget about talking to her. She’s at sea.”
- You knock anyway.
- You leave.
The woman appears to have been correct. Nobody answers, so you leave.
- “We are if you’re Ragna Firunjasdotter.”
- “That depends.”
“Yes, I am. How can I help you?”
- “On what?”
- “Oh, nothing. You are Ragna Firunjasdotter?”
“On what you are offering!”
“Impudent louts! Get lost and I do mean lost!” with a loud bang, the door is slammed shut.
- You knock again.
- You leave.
The door opens and something large and fragile flies through the air, passing very close to your heads, and shatters with a crash behind you.
“Have I made myself clear this time?!” the door is slammed shut again.
- “Does the name Hyggelik mean anything to you?”
- “Maybe with a map?”
“I don’t know what you mean, can I help you in some other way?”
“Of course that name means something to me!”
- “We are looking for his sword.”
- You tell her your story.
“I won’t be able to help you a lot there. Why don’t you ask Isleif Olgardsson in Felsteyn, he’s a direct descendant of Hyggelik’s. Or you could visit his great-cousin Swafnild Egilsdotter, I think it’s Skjal where she’s living, but most of the time she is cruising the coast aboard her ship, the “Pride of Hjalland”.”
- “Thank you for your help.”
- “Thank you, but do you know anything else?”
“Yes, wait a second…” she thinks. “There’s another relative of his in Phexcaer, Gerbald or something like that. Oh and another thing.. Hyggelik’s bride has a descendant living in Skjal, I believe his name is Jurge Torfinsson — maybe he can help you.”
She thinks a while.
“No, I don’t know anybody else, but you’ll be doing a lot of travelling as far apart as those four are living. It will take you long enough visiting just them.”
“No, I don’t know anybody else.” she hesitates…
“But I’ve got something else that might be of interest, a piece of some sort of map that I’ve inherited — it’s supposed to be Hyggelik’s.”
- “Could we have a look at it?”
- “Would you give us the map?”
“Sure, you can even keep it, just wait a second…”
She goes inside. When she returns, she’s holding a scrap of parchment.
“No, but you can have a look at it, just wait a second…”
She goes inside. When she returns, she’s holding a scrap of parchment.
You stare at the parchment.
“Was that a help to you?! Good because I have to say good bye now, as I am about to leave on an extended journey and have quite a lot to do before I go. Good luck!”
She disappears inside and you leave.
“Personally, I don’t much care!”
“Certainly!”
“Yes, well. I have to say good bye now, as I am about to leave on an extended journey and am quite busy right now. Good luck!”
Beorn Hjallasson
You knock on the door. A young, good looking blonde fellow opens the door. He looks you over for a second or two before his face breaks into a delighted grin…
You knock, but no one answers. You pound on the door a couple more times before you give up. Beorn doesn’t appear to be at home.
“Erwo, me old mate — I haven’t seen you for a donkey’s years!” the two hug as the rest of you just exchange surprised glances.
“Beorn, me boy! It’s great to see you!” a heart-warming welcome ensues.
“Do come in.” The two of them walk to the door. Erwo turns around.
“Wait here a while, will you?”
Before you can say anything, they have both disappeared.
Half an hour passes.
- You wait.
- You are sick and tired of waiting and leave.
Finally, Erwo returns and gives you a scrap of parchment.
“It’s from Beorn. I persuaded him to give you the map. It’s a heirloom of Hyggelik’s.”
“He also gave me three names. Hjore Ahrensson in Ottarje, Ragna Firunjasdotter in Vidsand and Swafnild Egilsdotter, at sea on the “Pride of Hjalland” — Beorn thinks they’ll be able to help.”
You knock. A young, good-looking blonde fellow answers the door. “Yes?”
- “We’re here on the Hetman’s orders!”
- “We are looking for Hyggelik’s sword.”
“What’s that got to do with me?”
“So go and look for it, why don’t you?”
- “Well, you are a relative of Hyggelik’s.”
- You tell him the whole story.
“So I am.”
“Very interesting.”
- “And? Can you help us?”
- “Do you happen to know something?”
“Sure, I know a lot.”
“You should ask Hjore Ahrensson in Ottarje, or Ragna Firunjasdotter in Vidsand, they might be able to help.”
“Of course, if you were to get hold of my cousin Swafnild, that would be a lot of help — only problem is, she’s out at sea most of the time. “Might of Hjalland” or something, her boat is called.”
“That’s not much, is it?”
“Thanks. Do you have any other knowledge to share?”
“I’m clear out of knowledge, but not out of sharing! Wait here a second!” he disappears inside and returns with a scrap of parchment.
“Hyggelik left this to me. Take it — I have no use for it, hunting for treasure is no sport of mine!”
He gives you the parchment.
“No? You mean that wasn’t enough for you? Well, you’ll just have to be satisfied anyway.”
“I have to ask you to leave now, anyway. I’m expecting female company.” He gives you a wink and with a friendly gesture, he closes the door. You leave.
“Oh! I’ve just seen someone I haven’t spoken to in years. Gotta run! Thanks for your company, and maybe we’ll bump into each other again sometime.”
With those words, Erwo leaves the team.
Algrid Trondesdotter
There is a sign with the words “Algrid Trondesdotter” above the door.
You knock. A moment later, a young woman of maybe 18 years, with the most gorgeous blond hair you’ve ever seen, opens the door.
- “You are a relative of Hyggelik’s, aren’t you?”
- “Jurge Torfinsson sent us.”
- “A certain Kolberg gave us your name.”
There is a sign with the words “Algrid Trondesdotter” above the door.
You knock, but nobody seems to be at home.
- “We are here on the Hetman’s orders.”
“Kolberg?” she thinks about it.
“Oh, yes, the guy who bought my map. 5 ducats he gave me for it. And now you’ll be wanting to know whether I know anybody else who owns a map like that, won’t you?”
- “That’s it, exactly. How did you guess?”
- “What makes you think that?”
“Well, he asked the same question. But I can only tell you what I told him: I don’t know anything about that map.”
- “Well, thank you very much, anyway, and good bye.”
- “Do you know anything else that may be of help?”
“Good luck!”
You continue exploring the town.
“Oh well, before you spend hours grilling me for information, I better tell you all I can think of.
Now, this is about Hyggelik the great, isn’t it…”
“My great-great-grandfather Trutzke was the only survivor of the expedition into the Orcish Lands. He ended up losing his mind as he got old, kept muttering something about some ruins and a treasure — just tall tales, if you ask me.
There is a fellow called Asgrimm Thurboldsson in Breida, who tells a lot of fairy tales about Hyggelik. His ancestor is supposed to be another survivor — I think that’s just a lie to impress people but you never know!”
“That’s all I know. Maybe you should ask my cousin Tiomar Swafnildsson. He lives on Manrek.”
She takes her leave.
“Good luck to you!”.
You wander about Hjalsingor a bit longer.
“Jurge Torfinsson? Never heard of him. What does he want from me?”
“He doesn’t want anything from you, we do. It’s like this.”
“That’s not true, actually, but you’re not the first to bother me about that. Ah well, before you grill me for hours with your questions, I’d better tell you all I know.”
“On the Hetman’s orders? What do you want from me, then?!”
“I had a map once; I inherited it from Trutzke — not directly from him, of course, he’s been dead too long. My granny told me the parchment had come down from Hyggelik himself. Two years ago, a merchant passed this way — I think his name was Kollborn or something. He actually paid 5 ducats for that worthless piece of paper.”
- “It’s about this map.”
“What can I do for you?”
You march through Hjalsingor for a while and finally reach Algrid’s place.