" I bet you three are glad to be home eh?" asked Dinald, deciding that he needed to improve his standing somewhat with these aloof and dour Northerners. Ragnar, Ailukka and Kelda gazed at him levelly across the campfire.
“This…place…is not my home” sniffed Ailukka. “My home is the Hagreach, far to the north and east of here.”
Ragnar folded his arms.“And my home is the Icemark, far to the north and west. I am no… Southerner.” There was an uncomfortable silence.
“You do not know of what you speak Dinald”, explained Kelda. “These lands are in the Southmoor. These barren lands”, here she gestured outside the circle towards the bleak landscape of howling winds, broken hills, stony gullies, and scant vegetation, " are called the Nolands. It is here that the Nidderlings- exiles and other criminals, gather. Those sent to the Nolands are either killed or inducted into one of the area’s tribes. These are little more than violent gangs who kill travelers, animals, and other Nolanders to survive. Some of these feast on the flesh of their victims. None of us are from these lands-it is an insult to say so, and only your simple mindedness excuses you."
“But what of our destination Jol?” asked Ameiko. “This is a safe place yes?”
“Safe? I suppose so” continued Kelda. “Though I am from Kalsgard and will find scant welcome there. The folk of Southmoor have long been jealous of more prosperous lands, and their King Opir Eightfingers, is a bitter foe of Sveinn Blood Eagle of Kalsgaard.”
“Oh? Why so?” asked Reynald.
“A fair question, but I know not.” answered Kelda. " I do know that Sveinn is a genuine Linnorm King: a Linnorm was slain by his own hands to win his crown. But there are many rumours regarding Opir: some say that the Linnorm Head Opir presented was badly decayed, and that he had probably come across it by chance. This should not be said too loudly in Jol though, as he has challenged and killed several who dared voice it."