Vikings

Those from Valkenheim had the outward appearance of being the most savage of the nations, but looks can be deceiving. Though, other times they're just right. Yoso hated the idea of being alone with the Vikings, but then again, she hated the idea of being alone with the Knights or the Wu Lin too. It was her duty to abide by her daimyo, and she was not about to breach that obligation, so perhaps there was some virtue to be won in surviving the most base of these boors.

She deposited her half-eaten bowl of rice at an empty spot on one of the long tables and took her seat with a stiff back. On one side of her was an empty seat - a fortunate accident, that - and on the other side was an average-sized man, and across from her was a pair of sizable women.

Physical prowess is a natural boon on the battlefield. Every sage wannabe could talk their head off about not underestimating the other aspects of combat - speed, agility, mind games, whatever - but all other things equal, the bigger warrior had the advantage. Hence, it was to no one's surprise at all that the guests at the Camp were anomalously large for their people; the Samurai included. Yoso was no fool, she recognized that her nation too had its share of freaks.

Yet even with the aggregate raised by the Camp’s population, the women opposite her were big. Even while seated, Yoso could tell that a standing exchange would demand her to incline her head to meet their gaze. Whatever, they weren't her problem.

Yes, they are. Remember that the only reason you're close enough to smell these lowbrows is because you are expected to make nice with them, she thought.

"That's not all you're eating is it?"

Yoso ceased her eating to look at who had spoken. One of the giants on the other side of the table was focused on her and pointing rather uncouthly with a dining fork.

"Dagmey! What the lady eats is her business, not yours," the man beside Yoso defended.

"I'm not trying to be rude," Dagmey said apologetically. "I'm sorry if it came off that way. I just want you to keep up your strength," she said, only then speaking to Yoso instead of past her.

"What makes you think that's all she's eaten?" the other woman addressed her fellow giant. She returned her gaze to her own food, continuing "She joined us with a half-eaten bowl. Presumably she's not just begun her meal. Note the small things, Dagmey."

"Are you ever going to let that drop?" Dagmey turned to face her associate. "One, just one, nonverbal cue gets past me and you have to bring it up at every chance for the next four months. Why?"

"Because I like the rise it gets out of you." The other woman smiled wickedly at her plate.

The man cleared his throat. "We are among company," he reminded them less than inconspicuously.

"Ah, right. I apologise. I am Gret, this is Dagmey, and he is Esjar. Who are you?"

Yoso introduced herself while refraining from giving too much away. The Vikings informed her that the three of them were all of the Warborn Clan. While she didn't show it, that did little to improve their standing in her view. Even so, she obliged them with civil conversation. Previously, she was not wholly positive that they were capable of it. She was silently thankful whenever they went off on their own tangential discussion, but they always circled back to some topic she could not escape.

The Samurai was keenly aware of those in the dining hall that rose from their tables and departed to move on with their day. Tension leaked from her shoulders when her Viking trio finally motioned to do the same.

"Find a pleasant day, ladies."

"Where are you headed, Esjar?" Gret asked.

"Back to the harbor to move lumber. Wish me and my back luck." The man rubbed his lower back as he walked off.

"If you're not expected anywhere, you should join us at the training grounds," Dagmey halted a retreating Yoso.