cranborne

"You must be punished, and the choice is before me as to how." The words came a little softer, but his expression did not change. "I understand that you cannot have acted alone in this, but we have no other to hold to this crime, so my judgment is this..." He paused once more, the doom of the moment as heavy as loomweights.

The meadhall was lit, warmed and furnished for a welcome. Two pit-fires blazed with well seasoned birch, ash and oak. The tables hosted only a few of the townsfolk, but were laid out well. Upon the raised platform a man sat and a woman stood. Both were well dressed, and while their colouring differed it was clear when close enough they were kin to one another. "Wesaþ hāle!" The figure stood with a smile aimed at the new arrivals.