Harald puts the hammer down, rummages through his pack a bit, and pulls out a battered passport. 
"I have no living family or friends," he says calmly. "So there is no need to contact anyone."
"Says he doesn't have family or friends" Saga says, taking his passport. Finnish?!
"Brilliant. Nobody to sue me if he dies" Leif says brightly.
She begins to write down Harald's information, adding him to the crew list. Clearly, Leif decided to hire him. Might as well do it proper, then.
Astrid arrived on the docks, excitement bubbling in her chest. She could hear the new lands waiting to be explored calling out to her. A smile split on her face so wide it hurt. Unable to suppress it, she hid it by pretending to double-check her bag. As if she hadn't quadruple checked it before she left home, and a few dozen more times on the boat ride here. Looking around, the smell of the sea assaulting her nostrils, she felt a shiver snake along her spine. Gathering up her stuff, she started to walk along the boats docked up, trying to remember the instructions to the expedition office. Another burst of excitement took over her, and she started skipping for a good 3 meters before she realized that it was very unprofessional. She got lost a few times trying to find her way, but her pride would not let her ask for help. When she finally arrived, she knocked three times on the door, placing one hand on the handle to try and steady her nerves. Stupid move. The door opened and she promptly fell inside, her pack falling open, and quite a few cat treats spilling on her. Well, this was embarrassing.
(sorry, I didn't notice the post bc it posted while I was writing a reply above, sorryyy)
(also present tense, please)
Harald slowly gets to his feet, walks over to the woman, and offers her a hand up.
Another, younger, man comes through the door, without even a thought of knocking. He's a few centimeteres shorter and significantly less well built than the blacksmith , although clearly quite strong, particularly across the arms and back. He wears a set of khaki fatigues, covered in various leather straps and braces to hold various pieces of equipment on, and across his back, over a substantial backpack, is slung an old hunting shotgun and an unstrung yew longbow. His hair the colour of oak bark and his eyes that of early autumn leaves, his accent clearly that of someone who only recently learned Icelandic. "Yep, this looks like the right place". He glances at the blacksmith helping a curly haired woman to her feet, then turns to the man at the other end of the room and says " Someone told me to report here, because apparently you need a scout for this little outing of yours"
Saga stands up immediately.
"Gods, are you well?" she asks. She turns her head and looks at the other newcomer, too. It seemed this whole group was gathering up. Astrid and Oliver.
Oliver was from far south, huh...?
"Hello" Leif says brightly to both of them. "I'm Leif Erikson. This is Saga Viggósdóttir, your navigator" he says, presenting her proudly as if he invented her. His mannerisms are quite self-centered and arrogant, but charming in an annoying way. He wears large, round glasses and at the same time looks like a stereotypical skald and a stereotypical rich kid. For someone who has no rights to be unable to buy himself food, he is far too similar to a skeleton, but the lack of meat on his bones doesn't manage to hide he might be considered handsome. His hair is so pale it is nearly white, and his eyes are a cold gray color.
Saga is, meanwhile, graceful and bright, with unruly blonde hair tamed by braiding it in two. Certainly skinny, but not knocking on Death's door, with a friendly round face, bright blue eyes and freckles. She is wearing ironed clothes, unlike Leif, and unlike Leif she clearly put more thought into her outfit this morning than he did in the last decade.
After such an annoying introduction Leif gave of her, she raises her hand in an awkward wave. "Hello. I'm Saga. Skald. Not immune." Might as well get it out of the way immediately. "Nice to meet you."
