A great feast had been prepared celebrating the marriage of Chief Thurolfs sister to King Grinwalds 3rd son Hamir of the far eyes. Many hours had passed of eating, drinking , bragging, feats of strength, wit and axe throwing. A few of your clan had fallen foul of the excesses as well as some of Grinwalds. No blood feuds had yet been started and no wereguild owed. But the night is early and much can change.
Though the storm outside blows hard and the rain falls like silver daggers to soak even the hardiest. No one wants to get wet so it seems that no fights tonight. Praise be to Odin, for he is wise and strong and keeps us safe. Then likened to a bolt of lightning through the fire slit in the roof falls a huge iron shod spear, spilling out burning wood from the fire over the throng!
What omen does this portent, then the runes glow amber along the haft of the spear, like dying embers in a fire. Thurolf rises from his seat and cries out for the wise woman. Outside the wind blows and the rain lashes down hard. Thurold points towards you, bring me the wise woman now. It is deep into the night and she lives up the hills to the north, a good hour in the day. But it is dark and she is needed now, speed is essential. Out into the night you must go, and the wolves are hungry of that you are sure.
So begins the saga.