As expected, the mead hall in Stoke were warm and toasty, and the grub was second-to-none. And I met the Reeve, Fríthild, a shield-maiden no less! I never heard of a woman Reeve before! She were organising some folks to put out the wild fires nearby. She asked me to go by Oserley to see if I could get a few more hands to help, so I agreed I'd pass by that way. 'Twere a lonely walk, nary a soul, just the tall grass swaying and the birds singing. Weather were dry, at least.