The Rite of Passage

The Skorlin mountains are ruled by the 7 northern clans. These mighty warriors descend from the mountains every year to ravage the southern kingdoms. Each spring, the clans gather for a great Moot. At the Moot, rivalries are set aside and each clan sends forth its most promising youth. Together, these youths form a raiding band known as Odin's Spear, and go south to prove their worth to their chieftains.

This spring is no different, and the tribes gather on the spring equinox for a festival before the young warriors are sent south.

It is a grand feast with hundreds in attendance. Goats are slaughtered and cooked over long troughs of coals. Barrels of mead are opened and poured into waiting drinking horns. Clanmates dance and fight in the fields, and many sneak away in pairs to enjoy each other's flesh away from prying eyes. Even as the music plays, the occasional cry of passion can be heard from nearby.

"Chieftains!" cries out Ragnor, the high priest. Though old, his voice is deep and clear, and the raucous clansmen stop their festivities at once. "Present your tribute for Odin's Spear!"

Author's Note: Welcome to the story! I haven't added to it in quite a while. If you are an author as well, I encourage you to add your own chapters and storylines as you choose. You can even start right here and introduce an entire new cast of characters if you want to.