Winds of fortune: swans will sing

“There’s nothing we can do Singur. The Senate have signed a treaty - it’s done.” Singur continued sewing, her hands busy and her expression intent. Lotta topped up the glass of amber liquid on the arm of her chair and poked the fire while she waited for a response.

“There’s always something you can do Lotta. Always. If you’re prepared to take the consequences.” Singur nodded as spoke, finishing a few last stitches, she snipped the thread and examined her work critically.

“Like what? What exactly are you suggesting Sigur? We can’t attack the Thule - it’s impossible.” Lotta took a sip from her glass, and looked stared intently at Singur, daring the woman to disagree with her.

Singur tugged gently at the cloth and was pleased with her handiwork. She set it to one side, and took a sock from her work pile. She examined it carefully before speaking again. “It’s not impossible Lotta. It’s just illegal. It’s not the same thing at all.”

“You’re suggesting we break the law? Really is that your plan? They are foreigners now. Magistrates will say it was murder. If we’re caught - we’ll be executed for it.”
Singur smiled wrly at her friend “You talk freely of a war with the Thule, you have the courage to face them in the mountains - but you’re worried about breaking the law?”

Lotta looked unhappy, opened her mouth to argue, closed it again. Singur smiled, took another sip, and set to work darning the sock. There was silence for a few minutes, apart from the fire crackling. Lotta checked the bread she was toasting, spread a little butter (swearing under her breath at her burnt fingers), and deposited one of the two slices next to the whiskey at Singur’s side. Finally she tried a different tack.

“It would be insane to attack the Thule. There are thousands of them, we can’t achieve anything on our own.”

“No of course not, we need to be wise and courageous. We need a rod and a line to catch our fish.” Singur tugged gently at the cloth and was pleased with her handiwork. She put it aside, put down her needle, picked up her slice of toast, and met Lotta’s gaze suddenly, her eyes full of fire.

“Everyone is talking about attacking the Thule. I want to take up my axe and shield and march into their lands and fight them. They took the Stonefield Ice Caves from us - so lets go and take something back and damn the consequences.”

Lotta’s eyes opened wide in surprise and she choked on a mouthful of whiskey. Singur took a satisfied bite of toast with a loud crunch, and reached out to pick up a glove from her work pile before continuing more calmly. “Everyone is talking about breaking the treaty. We need to do more than talk. If we’re to come together and raid the Thule - we need someone to lead us.”

Now it was Lotta’s turn to get angry with her friend. “Britta is dead Singur, remember? The Thule killed her. The Senate are the ones who agreed the treaty. They are the ones I blame for this!”

“Don’t blame the Senate Lotta. We invented it after all. It has gone against Wintermark this time, it will turn in our favour another time and someone else will be smarting because of it. They make deals, it’s what they do.”

“So who then?” Lotta spread her hands wide, demanding an answer.

“We need to look to our own… We need the Stormcrows.”


There’s a lot of anger in Wintermark, and over winter it is beginning to fester. An opportunity exists to tend the wounded Pride of the three peoples - assuming that their Stormcrows have the Courage to do so …

You can learn about this fascianting opportunity to do something very brave and somewhat illegal here → … _will_sing


Taken from


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