Outside the Walls of York
The camp was no longer a riot of tents and confusion. It had been transformed into a grid. Ragnar stood on a hastily constructed platform made of scaffolding and empty crates. He looked exhausted. His tunic was stained with ink and grease, and he had dark circles under his eyes that rivaled the charcoal he used for sketching.
Behind him stood his "Cabinet":
Gyda, Mistress of the Ledger, checking a manifest of arrows.
Bjorn, Head of the Signal Corps, holding his flags like ceremonial weapons.
Leif, Director of the Foundry, nervously clutching a "Standard Bolt."
Erik the Lame, Captain of the Broken Men, leaning on his crutch with a predatory grin.
Below them, the entire Great Heathen Army was assembled.
