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Builder's note: To some, this may not seem to be a barracks in strict terms. Arnarvhall is based more substantially on Norse culture/mythology than most other Mitgardian groups or builds. In that sense, a Mead Hall counts as a barracks as it would be the place that warriors and freemen would gather with their Jarl to vote, plan raids, receive gifts of treasure or arms, etc. Vegrsala, the seat of power in Arnarvhall, is such a place. I channeled SK and Ecc a lot for this build. All credit to them for introducing many of the techniques and elements that define the Norse-inspired style of Mitgardia. Please forgive the photography. My set up is not great for builds this size so I did the best with what I have. I am really proud of this build, anyway, and it's the biggest I've done for GoH to date! Oh and this also marks the completion of my entries to Age of Mitgardia's military section! It's been a year since the fateful day when Alva first picked up her father's axe. Here, at the seat of power in Arnarvhall and gathering place of all the warriors who owe fealty to Jarl Asbjorn, the completion of Alva's training is celebrated in the Old Way. The winter is again receding, with spring promising new life for the growing things and new responsibilities for Alva Tyrnsdottir. Not everyone can join the merriment in the Hall, however. One of the young wives must exercise the hounds. The local dwarves of the Woody Hills, long-time allies of Arnarvhall, supply the mead from their apiaries. Though unaligned with their troublemaking cousins to the East, they still don't like elves much and take an opportunity to cut across the path of a wounded elven messenger. The Path leading up to the Hall's entrance is busy with incoming warriors and well-wishers. A little behind the scenes shot. Some of the roof panels are removable. The interior of Vegrsala. A turkey is roasted on the spit, while windows are opened to let fresh air into the hall. Alva is not Arnarvhall's first shieldmaiden. In honor of her, however, two women were selected to stand guard on the Hall armory. One is a bit distracted by the handsome men and the romantic notes of the skald's lute. This day may be prouder for Asbjorn, who has championed Alva's training, than it is for her own father. He smiles beneath his great red beard as he hands her the arm-ring that signifies her full bond to him, to the Jarldom, and her status in the clan. Beneath the High Seat, a bearded Mad Marginn happily beats his shield to signal his protege's triumph. And though dark days lay before her, for Alva today is a good day.
