Accept the axe but miss.

Tjorvi smiled softly as he grabbed the axe. Moving it around in his hand for a moment, getting used to the handle before he pivoted and threw the axe with the extension of his arm. In that swift motion, the weapon spun like a cyclone of lightning before…

Before it missed the target. It barely missed the bullseye, probably scratching some strands of hay hanging out from the side but either way, it caused a wave of disappointed noises to fill up the mead hall as they watched the weapon get stuck in the wall of the woodhouse instead. Within seconds, everyone went back to their business and Gyda had thrown him a playful wink, victorious in this situation as she paraded away to the festivities...

After all of that, Tjorvi was drawn towards the large tables, mostly due to the promise of mead and the scent of the food. He had never seen anything like this before, and he couldn’t help himself from finding a seat and just getting a bite of that large chicken. One cup of mead to wash it down turned to another, and before long he was completely participating in the festivities. The young farmer remembered singing out, cheering to the newly-weds, and just enjoying the feast. Like that, he didn’t even think about making an impression on the Vikings but at least he didn’t make a fool out of himself either. At least he didn’t do anything to fuck up his chances yet, and he made some connections. Shame he wouldn’t be able to remember who they were exactly, but he had announced his presence which wasn’t the worst thing either…

It was already early in the morning when a stumbling Tjorvi Eldgrim could be found passing out…