《Vitharr's Saga, Entry 1: The Companions of Vitharr》


 Chapter 1: On Unfamiliar Shores

    From the cold north, from the shores of the harsh lands of Stal Vindur, an ambitious group of young men and women set out with a simple goal of finding their fortunes. Some were strangers, others long friends, but all shared in the dream of finding their wealth, and taking it should there be a chance to. These companions, numbering only a meager eleven warriors, had all flocked to the call of one in particular; Vitharr Halldorsson had little of his own, save for the unbridled ambition beating in his young heart. Of only nineteen years, a boy by any other man''s account, his childhood friends were the first to join with him. Beginning as only four young ones and expanding to eleven, as more unblooded warriors heard of the budding expedition and sought to test themselves out in the world, the Companions of Vitharr stole into the night on a single ship and set out to sea. There was the shield-maiden and lumberjack Brynhild, the twins Alger and Gifre, the handsome Hallig, the hunter Guthred, the orphaned Torold, and the learning skald Dag. Many to know of, but not all were bound for fame at once, as the Grey would unfold their fates in time. This saga of the Companions begins with Vitharr and his close friends, the wild woman Runa, the giant man Sveinn, and Vitharr¡¯s older but sickly brother Young Halldor. Each Companion, aside the frail Halldor, wore the common war dress of a Vinnish warrior: chainmail shirts worn above their cloth undershirts, and below leather chest pieces, and they carried with them sword, axe, and shield. Upon the back of a boat once belonging to Vitharr''s father, Halldor the Furious, the companions headed east into the great expanse of sea. Though the companions were without a formal leader, it was Vitharr, the architect of their raiding expedition, that the others looked to, for better or ill, and beside him the three that had first joined, all of who were without fame or riches.


    ¡°Vitharr! Land it is, I think, over there?" A musclebound vinman hollered while leaning off the side of their ship. It was Sveinn, a bald headed and golden brown bearded man twice the size of any present, but less than half the wit of most. His enthusiasm in seeing the horizon had rocked the ship, to the disturbance of Halldor the Younger who had been lying just near.


    ¡°Answer him so he might stop stomping his feet so near to my skull." The frail Halldor urged his brother Vitharr with a grumpy growl.


    At the head of the ship sat Vitharr Halldorsson who turned to spy what had set Sveinn off. ¡°What you think is right, land it is. A place of wealth and plenty I hear."


    The comment roused the attention of the other companions just as Sveinn shouted once more, ¡°Then we are here!"


    Halldor the Younger was getting rather annoyed with the shouting at this point.


    Vitharr smiled and answered, ¡°If we wished to die, yes we could land."


    Rising from his position at the front of the ship, Vitharr walked over to Sveinn and clasped his hand on his towering friend''s shoulder. "Before us is a land that would swallow us whole and spit out only our bones. No, where we go now is south and further south still." Giving Sveinn a few reassuring taps on his shoulder, Vitharr turned away to help Halldor up and to a new position on the ship, as his leg had been lamed many a year ago and left moving to be a difficult task.


    Sveinn stared dumbly at the horizon before nodding his bald head. "Ohh. Okay Vitharr." The large vinman said.


    As Halldor the Younger was set down, he scoffed at Sveinn''s vacant answer. ¡°You will ever be ''Sveinn the Pup'' won''t you. A man of the mind would have asked why it is how my brother says."


    ¡°There is no need for him to do so, because I am here." Said the red haired Runa from the ship''s bow, having watched her friends in silence until now. She pushed her thickly braided and bound hair aside, revealing her kohl darkened eyes.


    ¡°Your teasing will one day see you even more broken, Halldor." The woman scolded, to the sickly Vinman''s embarrassment.


    ¡°I will not be lectured to by a slave."


    To which Runa canted her head with a smug smile, for she was a slave no longer, thanks to Vitharr who had now returned to sitting at the head of the ship. ¡°Why is it as you say, what is this land, Vitharr?" She questioned.


    ¡°It is the land that broke Halldor the Furious, and that the Odeking Fafnir sailed to. Where the Vallanders sit in wait, Valikorlia." Said Vitharr while picking his teeth.


    Aboard the lone ship were only young warriors, those from Stal Vindur who had little knowledge of Valikorlia save for the tragic, and often weird tales some of their fathers and mothers returned with. The crew now looked upon the landmass on the horizon with superstition and worry, something Vitharr''s eye had caught. ¡°Keep focused companions, our aim is the south sea, where there are islands ripe for plunder!" Vitharr shouted, and was met with the boisterous and unified shouts of the other warriors. Runa joined the cries as both Vitharr and Sveinn shared an enthused bout of laughter, with Halldor the Younger laying silently with only a smile.


    ********************


    ¡°Face inked with the image of a dragon headed serpent, unbound hair of black death, the fierceness of his look stole away the companions¡¯ breath!¡± Spoke a lad, his arm waving this way and that until Runa spoke up with mild annoyance.


    ¡°Why are you doing that?¡± She asked while idly sharpening her axehead.


    ¡°Oh! I am seeking the right words to describe Vitharr.¡± The lad answered, his small blonde bearded face pensive, still tinkering with words in his head.


    Again Runa questioned, ¡°Yes but why are you doing that?¡±


    The lad was shaken from his concentration, to his disappointment. ¡°As skald, who else will tell the tale of us companions?¡±


    An amused scoff came from Vitharr at the head of the ship. ¡°You make me sound fearsome, Dag! Am I such a fear to you?¡±


    The aspiring skald Dag seemed surprised. ¡°To me, Lord, it is true you are a fear. I say only what I see, as any true skald should!¡±


    Young Halldor grumbled now, followed by a brief moment of coughing. ¡°It wasn¡¯t fear that bound us, nor fear that keeps us.¡±


    Vitharr turned aside his gaze to the horizon, and a beach they were passing. ¡°I told you not to call me Lord, not until I have land to call my own. Until then it is a lie.¡± Said Vitharr matter-of-factly.


    ¡°Ah, but Lord I speak of the future. Land will be yours, I know it.¡± Dag said, quite sure of himself.


    ¡°You deal in fortunes now, Skald.¡± Spoke Runa and she shared a laugh with a few of the other warriors aboard.


    ¡°I deal in truths. I see the path ahead clear as day, for are we not all here for the promise of riches?¡± Dag spoke somewhat sheepishly.


    ¡°I am here to keep my fool brother out of trouble.¡± Answered Young Halldor before looking up at Vitharr, who seemed to stare at the horizon with purpose in his eyes. ¡°Trouble it seems he may be finding now.¡±


    It was as Young Halldor said. Vitharr pointed toward the beach head they were just passing. ¡°We will land here, bring us about.¡± Declared Vitharr with a widening smile, fingers dancing upon the pommel of the sword hanging at his side.


    ¡°Did you not say this land would be our death?¡± Questioned Runa, a thought the other warriors no doubt shared. All except Sveinn who was always eager to follow.


    ¡°Do you not feel it? There is a calling in my bones. I spied people fleeing the beach!¡± Said Vitharr happily as he pulled his sword free from its scabbard. ¡°We find the village and take its valuables, then leave these shores just as quick. Are you with me my friends?¡± A resounding battle cry was shared amongst the companions in response.


    Sveinn beat his fists against the ship¡¯s side as if it were a drum. ¡°To battle, Vitharr, to battle, to battle!¡± The Vinnish giant said in rhythm with his drumming.


    Before long the ship was beached and every warrior rose to disembark. Even Young Halldor, lamed and sickly as he was, took hold of his wooden walking stick and left the ship, intent on accompanying the others inland despite being unable to fight himself. If you encounter this story on Amazon, note that it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it.


    ¡°Tell me, Halldor, tell me what the Grey Ones counsel?¡± Asked Vitharr while the other men prepared themselves.


    ¡°The signs are good. The sea calmed itself for our approach, I am sure of it, and in the skies I witnessed a crow circling the trees. We would be fools not to heed it.¡± Advised Young Halldor, balancing his weight with his walking stick.


    ¡°Then we fight.¡± Vitharr uttered simply. By Vitharr Halldorsson¡¯s side marched Sveinn, Runa, and Young Halldor, with the other companions trailing behind, all of them armed with either axe, sword, shield, or bow. They journeyed across the beach and into a forested area ahead, and before long saw signs of people. Through the trees they could see a village, unwalled. Huts and houses of mud, dirt and stone, but barely anyone in sight. Panicked villagers rushed about the place as the coming of strange armed warriors was spread the moment word returned that the ship had beached. The frightened people found their homes and shut their doors as the companions made their way toward the village outskirts.


    There was no longer a need for words as Vitharr Halldorsson beat his sword against his shield, and the companions poured into the town. Doors were bashed open. Those village men and women that tried to fight were slain without a moment¡¯s thought, and some who cowered and begged were laid low just as quickly by an over eager companion, though the companions took care not to kill those who surrendered. Most were forced into submission as the companions demanded their hidden silver, gold, and treasures which some were able to relinquish though the amount was no doubt meager at best. Screams born of fear filled the air as Vitharr¡¯s companions sought their riches, though the viking himself had yet to partake. Neither did Sveinn who rarely left Vitharr¡¯s side by choice, not even to seek out his own wealth. It was not the treasure of the poor villagers that had caught this viking¡¯s attention; it was the largest building of them all that drew Vitharr¡¯s interest. While Runa was with the other companions taking what wealth she could, Vitharr, Sveinn and Young Halldor made their way to what appeared to be a great hall.


    They were met with sturdy wooden doors, shut tight and no doubt barred from the other side. An obstacle, but not one they could not overcome with the help of the oversized brute that was Sveinn the Pup.


    ¡°Take up your great axe, Sveinn. I have need of firewood.¡± Said Vitharr as he lightly tapped the wooden door with his sword''s pommel, giving the door a few knocks for the people inside to hear. With a boisterous laugh, Sveinn did as asked and raised his two handed axe above his head.


    ¡°One!¡± The great brute shouted as he brought the axe down against the wood, biting into it with a snap.


    ¡°I say it will be three.¡± Wagered Vitharr as he and his brother watched Sveinn pummel the door.


    ¡°If you say three, then I must say four.¡± Young Halldor responded right before Sveinn reared back and swung his axe again.


    ¡°Two!¡± Shouted Sveinn as bits then chunks of wood flew off from the door.


    ¡°Have the Grey Ones given a sign? That is cheating.¡± Vitharr questioned, both amused and wary of his brother¡¯s prediction.


    ¡°I am simply wise.¡± Young Halldor found no amusement in the thought of abusing the Grey¡¯s counsel. Freeing the axe from the door, the mighty Sveinn pulled back into another swing and chopped into the wood one more time.


    ¡°Three!¡± The wooden doors split apart and burst, scattering splinters and wood around the threshold as the doors were forced open.


    The wager was set aside as Vitharr took the lead and stepped into the great hall. Inside there were warriors ready to meet them. These villagers carried sword and shield though were lacking in armor. With a battle cry, Vitharr charged against the first two, crashing into one of the men with his shield and bashing him to the floor. Sveinn howled like a madman as he saw Vitharr take to battle. With his greataxe in hand, the vinman brute slammed the axehead against an approaching warrior¡¯s shield, cracking the shield apart with just the first swing and sending the man off his feet from the force. Vitharr blocked and swiftly avoided the desperate swings of the warrior that remained standing, and with a keen eye found the chance to send his blade low and slice across the warrior¡¯s unguarded leg. The warrior fell to his knees in shock, and before he could find his senses Vitharr bashed his head with the vinnish shield. Now only remained the two warriors that Vitharr and Sveinn managed to force to the ground. Sveinn raised his greataxe over the pleading warrior whose shield he had broken, and brought it down with such force as to cut through the warrior and into the wooden floor below. The last remaining warrior had tried to return to his feet, and would have succeeded were it not for the shot of an arrow flying in from outside and piercing him in his throat. Amidst the gurgling of the dying warrior, Vitharr turned back to see that it was one of his companions that took the shot, accompanied by the axe wielding Runa.


    ¡°These villagers were nearly bare, some silver but only some.¡± Runa shared as she and her bow wielding companion entered the great hall.


    ¡°Did they die well?¡± She asked of Vitharr while looking down at the dead warriors.


    ¡°They did. They are with their gods now.¡± Vitharr said before he turned his focus away. He now gave the great hall a better look. It was spacious, with a single seat just ahead no doubt for the Lord of this land. As Vitharr ventured closer, he heard the creaking of wood behind the seat. The viking¡¯s approach slowed but did not halt, and without hesitation he peered around behind the great chair to find an old man, crouched and in hiding, not yet having noticed the peering viking¡¯s presence or approach. Vitharr saw no choice but to claim the man¡¯s attention, and smacked the side of his blade against the wooden throne with an added shout. The old man came tumbling out from behind the chair in shock, in full view of the companions who were now gathering in the hall and sharing in a chorus of laughter at the sight.


    ¡°I find it rude you did not greet us.¡± Spoke Vitharr as he rounded the chair, keeping some distance between he and the elder in order to give the old man some comfort.


    ¡°I-I-I am Lord Arik, who dares bring harm to m-my land?!¡± The Lord said defiantly, from his position on the floor. The companions drew somewhat closer now to Vitharr and filled the hall.


    ¡°You have found your voice, this is good. Know me as Vitharr Halldorsson. I have need of your treasure, so you will tell me where it is, Lord.¡± The viking sheathed his sword. The old man shook his gray haired head.


    ¡°T-Treasure? We are a poor village with no treasure, you are mistaken!¡±


    Runa called out to Vitharr, ¡°Kill him, he has nothing. He is but a wretch of a Lord.¡± She said insistently.


    Inhaling a large breath, it seemed like Vitharr was considering her advice. He crouched down before the old Lord and met his eyes. ¡°We have taken what you have. Your food, your silver, your gold, and some of your heads. And we can take more, Lord. Burning your homes, taking more heads, it is easy for us. Or¡­ we may just leave and do nothing else.¡± The old Lord was without a guard, his people were terrified and in mourning, and he wished not to die what he thought to be a fool¡¯s death.


    ¡°... I will... give you what you seek, then you will leave this place. Will you swear it?¡± The Lord saw no choice but to concede.


    ¡°I give my word as a warrior. This I swear to you.¡± Said Vitharr after a chuckle.


    The Lord Arik, defeated, raised a bony index finger toward his throne. ¡°It is beneath¡­¡±


    Keen to see what had drawn him to this unremarkable village, Vitharr turned his attention to his companions. ¡°Hallig, Torold. Please be our throne-breakers.¡± The two companions that were called came forward, both with axes in hand, and began to tear away at the wooden floor around the throne. It did not take long for the two warriors to open the ground to reveal a hidden space. Their eyes widened to saucers as they discovered a most peculiar find. It was a large gilded chest, inscribed with what appeared to be runes in the gold gilding. Vitharr was himself fixated on the chest as the two companions hauled it out of the floor. The companions rejoiced at the find, for there was little doubt in their minds that the beautifully crafted chest held inside it a trove of gold, silver, and jewels. But for Vitharr, it remained a complete mystery, a mystery that was utterly tantalizing. Immediately he approached the chest, running his hand across it, and before long, attempting to open it. However, it would not open. No matter how much strength he applied, the chest lid was stuck fast, as it seemed a key was required.


    ¡°Before you ask what I know you will ask, the chest cannot be opened. We have no key here that can do so. Indeed, this chest has been here since before my father¡¯s time as Lord.¡± The old man Arik said, now rising to his feet. The move was met with suspicion from the other companions. The bow wielder nocked an arrow, which caused the Lord Arik to raise his hands to show he was no threat. ¡°I-I know not where it comes from either. I have no answers, save that you may take it in peace. Please, go in peace, Vitharr Halldorsson.¡± The viking had been listening to the Lord, though his concentration remained ever fixed on the gilded chest.


    So preoccupied with his thoughts was he that Runa spoke to bring him back to his senses. ¡°Vitharr?¡± She said with concern.


    The strange feeling that had drawn Vitharr¡¯s attention was this chest, and likely whatever was inside. He ached to know what it was, but at that moment there was nothing to be done about it. ¡°I have given my word. We return to the sea.¡± The viking said as he rose to his feet. ¡°With our newfound riches!¡± Vitharr shouted as he turned to his companions, whom all shared in a triumphant cry of shouting and laughter. ¡°Sveinn, use your mighty strength and carry the chest to the ship.¡± The viking said to his friend before starting toward the door.


    Vitharr and the companions did as was promised and left the village with no further bloodshed or destruction. Though they did not return to the ship as announced. Finding a spot in the forest, the companions began to dig, and deeply. Young Halldor approached his brother, his eyes as fixated on the chest as Vitharr was. ¡°What have the Grey Ones to say of this?¡± Questioned Vitharr while still pondering the nature of the chest.


    ¡°This chest is something sacred, Vitharr. Something old, of impossible wealth. This was fate, I know it.¡± Young Halldor said, giving his brother even more desire to see it opened.


    ¡°Why are we to leave it, Lord? Should we not bring it with us?¡± Asked Dag the Skald, no doubt planning to record this moment.


    ¡°On our ship, such a treasure will be vulnerable. Our aim does not change, we go to the south sea. When it is time for Stal Vindur, we will return here for the chest, and not before.¡± Said Vitharr while contemplating this choice of his. Should another find it while he was gone, he knew himself well enough to know it would drive him mad to have let slip such a mystery. His aim now was to gain the favor of the Grey through the coming raids and glories he shall seek out, so that they may keep this treasure hidden away for him and only his companions to find once again.


    The companions now returned to the sea, this fruitful distraction put behind them as their thoughts turned once again to the promise of plunder in the south sea. But for Vitharr Halldorsson, his thoughts remained plagued by the unopenable runic box and the mysteries that lay within it.

 Chapter 2: The Kingdom of Daith

    The companions had sailed far and long, following a heading directed by Vitharr Halldorsson. In all directions they could see only water, and it had been some time since they spied a passing island. They continued at the behest of Vitharr who seemed unnaturally drawn toward a particular direction. After a time rowing his share of the ship, Vitharr took a moment to relax and refresh, letting another of the companions take his place as a rower for now. Runa approached and sat down beside him. ¡°You knew.¡± She began then paused. ¡°You knew somehow that the village held that treasure chest, back in Valikorlia.¡± Vitharr leaned back and rested against the ship, staring up at the bright blue sky.


    ¡°How could I have known this, I am no seer.¡± He rebutted, though Runa did not relent.


    ¡°You are not, yet you still knew and brought us there to find it. Tell us how.¡±


    Vitharr noticed it was not just Runa who was curious; the other companions, even those that rowed, were listening and watching Vitharr in hopes of an answer. The lead Viking exhaled a breath through his nostrils. ¡°I felt a calling in my bones. A need in myself I could not ignore. That is it.¡± The other companions did not understand what he could have meant, and Runa stared at him as if he had gone mad. Before she could question again, there came a shout.


    ¡°Land ahead!¡± It was Torold that first spotted the landmass creeping up on the horizon they were headed toward. Vitharr stood up, the earlier conversation put to rest as he and his companions looked upon the land that was fast approaching.


    Sveinn crept close to Vitharr and asked excitedly, ¡°Is this the right island?¡± To which the raid leader smiled while staring intently at the horizon.


    ¡°We are here, my friend.¡±


    As the companions drew closer to the island, none of them could move their gaze away from the lush green land, and the promise of finally setting foot on ground once again. However, while the companions watched the island, Vitharr¡¯s eye was caught by something else. To the very northeast of the island raged a thundering grey storm. A storm that Vitharr remained transfixed on until another shout came. ¡°A ship approaches!¡± Torold once more notified the others. Vitharr and the companions now became wary of the ship that quickly gained toward them, and they began to take up arms. A warning, for now, to show the approaching ship that at least one will die by a companion¡¯s hand today, should they wish for a fight. Eventually the boat had caught up, and upon it the companions could see there were armed and armored warriors. Vitharr signals for the rowers to halt, and allowed the approaching boat to drift side by side to the Vinnish ship.


    ¡°Greetings and fair weather to you.¡± A warrior on the foreign boat speaks in Common. ¡°We welcome you to the Kingdom of Daith. Follow us and we will take you to shore safely.¡±


    There was a deafening silence as the two crews stared at one another. Though the warriors of Daith seemed welcoming, the companions could only be wary. Each Viking stood with axe, sword and shield in hand, for there was little trust to be had for these outsiders.


    ¡°We should kill them, Vitharr. Set their ship aflame as message to their King.¡± Counseled Runa quietly.


    ¡°A greeting from the companions.¡± Said Dag the skald with a laugh. The other companions gripped tightly at their weapons, steeling themselves for Vitharr¡¯s decision. One he was still considering.


    ¡°And why would we follow you?¡± The raid leader posed his question loudly. The warrior of Daith that had spoken before seemed delighted to exchange words.


    ¡°Our good King is a welcoming man! He wishes to greet all newcomers to the isles personally. We can take you right to town, it is nearby.¡± The companions uttered their hushed suggestions and warnings amongst one another. There was a prevailing sense this was a trap set by their King, and that to go would lead only to death. Though it was something to consider, Runa, Sveinn and Young Halldor all knew Vitharr well enough. If the Viking had any shining trait since he was a small boy, it was his unending curiosity.


    ¡°Then let us meet with this King. We shall follow.¡± Vitharr said, to the surprise of some of the companions.


    The two ships sailed into shore side by side without issue, but the tension was pronounced. The threat of the companions was not lost on the warriors of Daith, and though they felt just as tense in the presence of these raiders, they did not give them any cause for a battle. Once the ships beached, the companions all disembarked. The warriors of Daith did the same, but waited next to their ship, watching the companions from afar as they spoke amongst one another.


    ¡°I do not trust these southerners.¡± Said Vitharr as he consulted with the ten other warriors.


    ¡°Runa, Sveinn, Halldor. Come with me to the King, we will judge him ourselves.¡± Vitharr clasped a hand on his brother¡¯s shoulder.


    ¡°Always, Vitharr!¡± Spoke Sveinn eagerly as he hoisted up his greataxe.


    ¡°Let us see if this Kingdom is rich.¡± Runa gave a nod of her head, slinging her handaxe at her side.


    ¡°You will need the Grey¡¯s favor, of course.¡± Young Halldor had nothing but his walking stick and bone bag.


    ¡°What of the rest of us, Vitharr?¡± Asked Dag the Skald. ¡°I wish to come, to see the meeting of the Companions of Vitharr and the island King.¡±


    Vitharr considered it, eyeing the rest of the companions briefly before conceding to the skald with a nod. ¡°Five will go, five will stay, but I will need one for a task.¡± The raid leader searched the faces of the remaining companions and singled out their only bow wielder. ¡°Guthred of the Havardr, I have need of your skills.¡± The summoned companion drew closer.


    ¡°Lord?¡± Said Guthred. He hailed from the Havardr, a Vinnish clan known for their nomadic way of life and most importantly their superb skill with the hunt. A skill Vitharr aimed to test.


    ¡°You will be our shadow. You will remain hidden and follow our path to this supposed town, and once there you will be my eyes.¡± Vitharr instructed.


    ¡°I am to spy?¡± Questioned Guthred, unsure of his own capabilities, he was but a young hunter.


    ¡°See what you can see. When we have met the King, you will leave the town and shadow our return to the ship until I call for you.¡± The raid leader gripped the side of the young Vinman¡¯s neck, entrusting him with this important task. Guthred called on his courage and gave Vitharr a nod; he would not fail his request, especially one that Vitharr trusted only him with.


    With their plans set, the five Vinmen joined with the warriors of Daith and were escorted to the nearby town and home of the King. The town of Paguin was a busy place, one of the largest towns that were part of the island chain known as the Storm Isles. The architecture of the town and the aesthetic of its people were both something the Stal Vindur born warriors had never seen, as it originated from a place even farther south, Marseilles.


    The townspeople were a diverse lot, those hailing from as far as Meridiem and even some of Vinnish descent. The smell of spices filled the exotic air, the main source of wealth for the isles and the King. More valuable than gold in some places. Vitharr and his friends were escorted through town to a large stone hall situated on a small rise in the town center. Within was a place of finery and luxury. Bowls of fruit displayed out in the open upon tables of finely carved and embossed wood. Lit gold plated chandeliers hang high. There were gold framed paintings on the walls, gold plated vases on fine tables, and even more gold plated candelabras. The companions, most especially Runa, could hardly believe it. This King enjoyed displaying his wealth so freely.


    ¡°Pretty gold.¡± Commented Sveinn as they went, mesmerized by the glint of light reflecting off the golden surfaces.


    ¡°A peacock of a King.¡± Appraised Young Halldor scoldingly.


    While Runa contemplated taking the gold for herself, she was no thief; she looked forward to earning it through conquest. While Vitharr, ever thinking, made note of the lack of warriors in this grand hall. In fact, the raid leader had barely noticed any warriors in the town, something that left the Viking to ponder. This hall lacked the warmth he was so used to, finding it cold and impersonal, how would one entertain, feed, and boast with his companions in such a place. Eventually the warriors of Daith had led the five companions to the King¡¯s chamber. It was a very spacious place, decorated with all manner of finery just as the previous section of the hall was. At the end of the court stood an old man in the formal dress of a Marseilles born noble, and just beside him sat a crowned man, no doubt the King. A brass colored crown sat upon his dark haired head, and the throne he sat upon was cushioned and made of the same color brass of his crown. The warriors of Daith allowed the companions to draw closer to the regal King, the wild appearances of the Vinmen bringing a shocking contrast to the lavish people and environment that surrounded them.Reading on Amazon or a pirate site? This novel is from Royal Road. Support the author by reading it there.


    ¡°You have the honor of addressing King Lewyn of the Storm Isles.¡± The old man that stood beside the King said, and continued, ¡°The King offers his gracious greetings.¡±


    ¡°Does he?¡± Vitharr questioned as the King had yet to say a word.


    ¡°Perhaps his tongue has been cut?¡± Inquired Sveinn the Pup before sticking out his own tongue, likely in mockery. It was met with a laugh from Dag and Runa, though the Daithians found little amusement from it.


    ¡°Forgive me for having my men bring you before me, but it was a necessity.¡± Now spoke King Lewyn.


    ¡°The peacock opens its beak.¡± Uttered Young Halldor after a scoff. Vitharr patted Sveinn¡¯s shoulder; the man could speak after all.


    ¡°You were not brought here for greetings, but for me to judge your intentions. What is your name?¡± Said the King, quickly, firmly and to the point.


    ¡°I am Vitharr Halldorsson, Lord.¡± The Viking gave a lazy bow.


    ¡°You are a raider,¡± the King began, ¡°I have seen and dealt with your kind before. Raiders have a mind for one thing and only one thing, so we will exchange. You and your companions will find no other purpose in my lands, Vitharr Halldorsson.¡±


    ¡°Our purpose might be to kill.¡± Threatened Runa as she invaded the space of a nearby warrior, leaning in close to the Daithian¡¯s intimidation, and to the King¡¯s distaste.


    ¡°And what is this exchange?¡± Vitharr asked, reining in the King¡¯s attention away from Runa.


    ¡°Two hundred pounds weight of silver. In exchange for this sum, Vitharr and his companions will depart my shores, leaving my lands untouched.¡± The King dictated loudly. The elderly advisor nodded his head, ¡°A fair sum, Lord King.¡±


    The Companions did not seem moved, indeed their postures remained aloof, almost as if inattentive to the King¡¯s offer. ¡°So,¡± Vitharr stopped a moment to briefly think, chewing at a nail as he did then spitting it aside, ¡°We come to your lands and right away you offer us silver to leave?¡± His tone was mocking. In truth, Vitharr found it infuriating, despite the coolness and calm to his speech. In the Viking¡¯s mind, the King could only be a coward. Small and weak, fear must have driven this island King to resort to coin rather than blade. If fear is what is within him, then Vitharr would push him. ¡°One thousand pounds weight of silver, one hundred pounds weight of gold, then the Companions will leave.¡±


    ¡°What sort of absurd¡­!¡± The elderly advisor spoke incredulously. The King stared at the Viking, noting the seriousness behind Vitharr¡¯s words.


    ¡°Three hundred pounds weight of silver, twenty pounds weight of gold.¡± The King increased his original price, but was met by Vitharr¡¯s chuckle.


    ¡°Not enough.¡±


    The King drummed his well kept fingers against the cushioned armrest of his brass colored throne. ¡°Very well, I am not without my flexibility. One thousand pounds weight of silver and one hundred pounds weight of gold.¡±


    ¡°Swear it.¡± Vitharr approached, causing the warriors to step toward him in defense of King Lewyn. The monarch raised his hand for them to stand aside and let the Viking pass.


    Vitharr outstretched a hand, and the King reached out to take it. ¡°On my honor as King, I swear it. You will have your due payment.¡±


    Vitharr released his grip on the King, shooting up a pleased smirk at the elderly advisor. Turning, the raid leader clasped a hand on Runa¡¯s shoulder as he passed, and beckoned the Companions to follow.


    Remembering the way back to the beach, and the ship, Vitharr and the others rejoined the companions that had stayed behind. Dag the Skald was eager to share with them what had happened in the King¡¯s hall.


    Meanwhile, Vitharr turned to his brother and spoke, ¡°Cast the bones, Halldor. Judge for me what is to come.¡±


    The agreement had left Vitharr in a foul and worried mood, and Young Halldor could see it. The lamed Vinman slowly dropped to his knees upon the beach. The companions stood aside as Halldor took out his bone bag and loosened the string. He reached in then threw the bones onto the sand, letting them toss about and roll until coming to a stop. Vitharr came forward, crouching low beside the interpreter. ¡°I see only storms, Vitharr. There are bad omens here and ahead. The Grey must be made to see us.¡± Young Halldor said loudly, and gripped hold of a handful of sand from the earth and raised it for all the companions to see. The gathered warriors followed Young Halldor¡¯s example and each collected a portion of sand in their hands. All of them matted it into their hair and against their faces, for should the companions come to meet their end, then the Grey Ones will have known where it was their tale came to a close. While the companions that accompanied Vitharr daydreamed of the agreed upon riches the King had agreed to part with, the raid leader was wary.


    Just as soon as the companions took part in their ritual, an arrow flew out from the jungle without warning and pierced into the leg of one of the companions. Brynhild fell onto the sand, instantly taken from her feet. ¡°Shields!¡± Bellowed Vitharr nigh instantly as the shrieking hit his ear. The first arrow was accompanied by a few others, though most struck the sand and pierced into their ship. The companions all rushed for their shields, taking them up from the beach and from within the ship. The moment of panic in the initial rush for shields had subsided as the young warriors grouped together. ¡°Shield wall!¡± Again bellowed Vitharr. A unified grunt was the response from his companions as each of their shields met together with a mighty crash. They then bent low, angling the shield wall formation in such a way as to not only protect their front, but to also protect their heads from a rain of arrows which was sure to come. Another volley flew out from the jungle, pelting against the Vinnish formation. Some were deflected by the shields, others pierced into the wood, and some missed their marks and sunk into the sand. Beyond the sound of arrow heads biting wood and the groaning of the lamed Brynhild behind the shield wall, the companions were entirely silent.


    ¡°Without mercy!¡± Came a shout from the jungle, and out of the cover of green rushed a group of Daithian warriors, their number exceeding the able bodied companions.


    ¡°Together!¡± Vitharr shouted and the companions altered their formation. Rising up from the sand, they locked their shields into a tight and slightly curved wall, a bid to keep their flank secure from the superior numbers that bore down on them. With unified grunting like a steady beat of a drum, Vitharr and the companions slowly moved in reverse and halted just at the ocean¡¯s edge. As the formation moved, Vitharr dragged the wounded Brynhild back to keep her protected.


    The Daithians soon crashed against the Vinnish shield wall, forcing their bodies against the front in attempts to push their way through the formation. Vitharr released Brynhild and returned to firmly standing with his companions as they took the initial brunt of the soldiers. Young Halldor was too frail and lamed to participate in the formation, and while the battle commenced and continued, he spouted all manner of curses at the Daithians, and assured his companions that the Grey Ones were watching.


    The bulk of the Daithian soldiers were concentrated against the front of the companions¡¯ shield wall, but eventually some moved toward the flanks. Their sabatons sloshed through the ocean waters as they tried, their armored feet sinking into the wet sand and fighting against it. Some fell as they tried to attack the shields at the flank, stumbling awkwardly into one another, giving an opening for the Vinmen to stab and slash and let their blood flow onto the beach.


    As the Daithian numbers began to fall at the flanks, Vitharr shouted for the formation to open. The shield wall suddenly parted as the companions forced their shields outward in unison, bashing a few of the Daithians backward. An unfortunate Daithian who had been pushing his weight against the wall suddenly found himself rushing through the formation alone, only to have his gut cut open by the greataxe of Sveinn the Pup, then once falling to the sand was stabbed to death by the wounded Brynhild.


    The shield wall closed behind the warrior before his death, letting the desperate Daithians continue to try and force their way through. A few stabs and cuts from the Daithians managed to leave a number of the companions wounded, but still breathing and able to hold. An arrow was loosed from the jungle and sunk into the back of one of the Daithians. Another arrow came, then another, felling and wounding Daithians one by one. For within the brush was Guthred of the Havardr, still acting as shadow just as Vitharr instructed.


    ¡°Tell me Skald, what did these warriors first say?!¡± Shouted Vitharr as he held against the Daithians.


    ¡°They said ¡®without mercy¡¯, Lord!¡± Responded Dag, the young warrior struggling to keep the front of the wall secured.


    Vitharr laughed heartily, ¡°If they wish it so, then let it be!¡± It was not long before the Daithians realized they were taking arrows from their rear. As some Daithians diverted their attention from the wall to try and turn and move away, the companions rushed out from their shield wall formation, taking the Daithians by surprise and cutting down any that stood before them. While the arrows of Guthred downed any that chose to flee, the companions on the beach slew each warrior they could get their hands on.


    Triumphant battle cries filled the air as the Vinmen littered the beach with the bodies of dead Daithians. Though before the last could be cut open and sent to his unfamiliar gods, Vitharr stepped in to spare his life, for the Viking had questions. The blood and sand covered raid leader gripped tightly at the remaining Daithians hair and pulled him up onto his knees. ¡°Did the King send you? Did the King break his oath? Use your tongue and speak!¡± In truth, Vitharr knew very well this must have been the King¡¯s doing, but he would hear it said plainly so that the Grey Ones and all can be witness to the treachery.


    ¡°Y-Yes, yes! We were paid by the King to kill the raiders!¡±


    Vitharr had assumed it, but hearing it filled him with a rage unlike he had ever experienced. For a King to give his word and oath was a sacred thing, Vitharr believed. Should any break his honor bound oath, they would deserve condemnation and utter disgrace, and for this King to have done it so easily because he wished not to pay was unfathomable. ¡°May he be cursed,¡± began Vitharr in anger, ¡°May his spirit die and be condemned to an eternity of solitude. You!¡± The Viking forced the defeated warrior¡¯s face into the sand and leaned in close to his ear. ¡°You will return to your pretender King, and tell him Vitharr Halldorsson will have what he is owed. His silver and gold, and now his treacherous head. Go!¡±


    Vitharr allowed the wounded warrior to return to the jungle with haste. The Viking¡¯s anger still burned brightly, and he would leave the King a message, just as Runa suggested not long ago at their first meeting of these Daithians. The Companions took every fallen warrior, every lifeless corpse that lay upon the beach, and cut the heads free of their necks. With harvested sticks and branches fashioned into spikes, the Vinmen sunk each wooden pole into the earth at the edge of the beach, and mounted the heads of every single felled warrior that the King sent to their deaths. Vitharr Halldorsson¡¯s declaration of war and vengeance.


    As the companions studied their handiwork from the beach, and helped the wounded Brynhild onto the ship, Vitharr stared out at the island. Though he did not focus on the mounted heads, nor the green of the land ahead. His eye was drawn to the thundering grey storm in the far north, the very same storm he had seen when they first arrived at these shores. ¡°Vitharr!¡± Shouted Sveinn the Pup, as it seemed all the companions were aboard the ship and ready to depart. The raid leader accompanied them, and shoved off into the sea, with a heading leading them to the northwest of the island, and away from these bloodied shores for now.

 Chapter 3: The Calm

    ¡°Lord King, a messenger has come with news from the western shore.¡± The elderly advisor said as he approached King Lewyn.


    The monarch had been gazing out the window that was just a few steps behind his throne, his dark fingers rubbing at his clean shaven chin in thought. He said not a word and merely turned to face the advisor and the peasant messenger that had rushed a long way to see him. ¡°It is the Vinmen, Lord. They struck at our village without warning. They took all that we had!¡± The peasant revealed with a heavy head.


    ¡°Not only that, Lord,¡± said the advisor, ¡°but villages all along the coast have similar stories to share.¡±


    ¡°Have they harmed the harvest stores?¡± Asked the King plainly.


    ¡°N-No, Lord King, but they took our silver and--¡± The peasant spoke, trying to continue, but was swiftly cut off by the King.


    ¡°Gaspard.¡± At the utterance of the name, an armed man that stood nearby came forward. ¡°See that this man is fed and given a place to rest, then have him and all the other refugees return to their villages to complete the harvest. Delays in production will not be tolerated. That is all.¡±


    The man did as he was bid and escorted the impoverished peasant out of the hall, leaving the King and his advisor alone with but two guards standing idle. ¡°When we left Marseilles, what did I promise you, Varin?¡± The King posed the question but intended to answer it himself as he continued. ¡°Growth, enterprise, control. A place to start anew, not as a mere trade prince but true royalty. A dynasty of our own making, built not through warfare, but through real power: currency.¡±


    ¡°A promise that has come to be, there is no doubt, Lord.¡± The advisor Varin affirmed.


    ¡°I did not come to my position by spending frivolously, every transaction must be precise and to my advantage, Varin.¡± At this point, it seemed as if the King was thinking aloud, something the advisor surmised and remained silent. ¡°The sellswords that I sent after the Vinmen were a good price. Cheap, for how numerous they were, enough of a match for a few wild Vinmen. Now my sellswords¡¯ heads decorate my beach. I am left to ponder where my error in judgement was, Varin.¡±


    The King turned away from the window and walked a few paces to stand beside his throne. With a motion of his hand, he signaled at one of his commissioned guardsmen, causing the man to walk out of the court and into the entrance hall. ¡°The answer is simple. The funds I committed for warriors was not sufficient, so I will simply inject more funds this second and final time. Captain Skrig of the Howling Stitch vessel.¡± The King said the name in greeting of a man that had now entered the court, escorted in by the guard the King had signaled earlier.


    ¡°You asked for me and here I am, Lord.¡± Said the ship Captain, the mixed smell of the sea and of blood evident on him. A veteran warrior if there ever was one, his Common marking him as Valikorlian born.


    ¡°I wish to make use of you once more, as per our usual agreement. However, your use as an enforcer will not be required this time. There is a group of raiders that need to be dealt with.¡±


    ¡°Raiders aren¡¯t peasants trying to make problems for their betters, raiders are actual warriors. They fight back.¡± Explained the Captain before coming to his point. ¡°If you want me to contend with warriors, I¡¯ll need more than the usual pay.¡±


    ¡°You will have it, within an acceptable range.¡± King Lewyn gently sat down upon his cushioned throne and gave a clap of his hands. A few servants entered the court, each carrying with them jingling wooden chests. They placed them down before the Captain. ¡°These funds are for you to gather a crew and men willing to fight for good pay, and more than enough to arm each man. Have word spread out through the chain that the King is offering a reward for any willing to take up arms in his name.¡± Said the King, dismissing the servants with a wave.


    ¡°Easy enough, Lord, but with the Vinmen in the northwest, the prime storm will already be on the western shore by the time the men are gathered.¡± The Captain shared. ¡°We will have to sail around the eastern shore in order to avoid it, which will give the Vinmen time to raid the villages of the other islands before we reach them.¡±


    ¡°You only need to worry about gathering the men and dealing with the Vinmen. Think of nothing else, Captain.¡± The King said firmly. ¡°One final instruction. I will have their leader, Vitharr Halldorsson, brought to me alive. Make sure all men know that he is not to be killed. Do what you will with the others, I care not.¡±


    With the King¡¯s plans decreed, the Captain set into motion the gathering of an army. The call went out for sellswords, mercenaries, and any peasant willing to put down his tools and pick up the sword, to gather at the town of Paguin in order to defend the isles from the marauding Vinmen. The companions had pillaged their way across the western shore of the main island, stopping at the small fishing village known as Ames. It is there that the companions chose to rest and recover, and to tend to their wounded in earnest. A great storm had struck the town just as soon as the companions beached, and as such they were forced to remain for the time being.


    Within the veritable shack of a hall that the village had, Vitharr and his companions stayed. The Lord of the small village had been forced to give the raiders free run of the place. In the corner of the shack lay the wounded Brynhild, her leg being seen to by Young Halldor, with Vitharr watching over her and boasting of the battle they had won, for the young woman¡¯s sake and to pass the time. All was quiet within the hall, save for the raging wind outside and the rain pelting the roof. The silence was soon broken by the hall door being forced open with a slam. In walked Runa, drenched in water, hands firmly restraining a struggling young local man. The warrior violently threw her captive to the floor in the middle of the tiny hall. ¡°Vitharr!¡± She called once before kicking the young man¡¯s side to keep him down. The raid leader rose and stepped away from Brynhild, approaching Runa and curiously watching the fallen man. ¡°And who is this? We have no time for slaves, Runa.¡±


    ¡°Not a slave, Vitharr, but a spy. I caught him creeping at the edge of the village.¡± As the man looked up at Vitharr from the floor, Runa reached down, grabbing the spy¡¯s neck and forcing him up. ¡°There was another, but he fled once I caught this one.¡± The man stared at Vitharr, the terror plain on his face to Runa¡¯s satisfaction.


    ¡°Why have you come here, spy?¡± Asked Vitharr, waiting for an answer though the captive man put up resistance.


    Vitharr grabbed hold of his face in response, prompting Young Halldor to rise and comment, ¡°I suggest you speak, if life is what you value.¡± Vitharr gave him a chance to reconsider his silence.


    ¡°The¡­ the King has sent the call for warriors.¡± Spoke the spy. ¡°Men are to gather at Paguin, Lord, I came t-to spread his word.¡±


    Vitharr let the man¡¯s face go and stood aside in thought. ¡°He is gathering an army to fight us? Glorious. When will they come?¡± Commented Runa now, still holding the man in place.


    ¡°I do not know, truly!¡± The spy responded quickly. Runa unslung the axe at her side and brought it to the spy¡¯s throat, prompting the young man to squeal and protest, ¡°W-Wait! I have more! H-He also ordered that Vitharr Halldorsson m-must be taken alive!¡±


    The Viking in question had taken a seat on the floor, deep in his thoughts. The other companions began to murmur amongst themselves.


    Hallig came forward, ¡°If it is true this King has gathered an army, we would be facing our slaughter.¡± The young Vinman put forward with the support of the brothers Alger and Gifre. If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.


    ¡°Would it not be best, Vitharr, to return to Stal Vindur with what we have taken already? We have made good wealth.¡± Proposed Gifre, to the opposition of the outspoken Runa.


    ¡°You would have us flee the opportunity for glory?¡±


    ¡°Good wealth is not enough wealth. And to face an army¡­ think of the story!¡± Added Dag the Skald, siding with the sentiment that they should remain.


    As the companions argued, it was Sveinn the Pup who brought the hall to silence by saying, ¡°Vitharr is the one to follow.¡± The companions all turned to their leader, the young Vinman had been quiet all this while. He had been staring at the wooden door of the hall, listening closely to the sound of thunder, wind and rain that raged outside.


    ¡°The storm is truly incredible.¡±


    The companions exchanged confused gazes with one another as Vitharr said this, unsure what the significance of his words was. Young Halldor, however, gave a knowing nod at his little brother¡¯s words. ¡°Guthred of the Havardr.¡± Vitharr motioned for the bowman to come forward, and the young Vinman approached as beckoned. ¡°You are a sellsword warrior that has heard the King¡¯s call. You will go to Paguin to join the King¡¯s army and find out when they shall attack.¡± Instructed Vitharr. The fledgling hunter Guthred inhaled a nervous breath; he was to spy again it seemed. He could admit he did a fine job the first time, but he was wary if he could do so once more. Vitharr motioned over to Hallig nearby. ¡°You will take Hallig with you. When you have discovered what I need, Hallig will return but you, Guthred, you will stay in Paguin.¡±


    ¡°You have a plan, Lord?¡± Asked Hallig, the others all standing by to hear what was going through Vitharr¡¯s mind.


    ¡°I have thoughts, but no clear plan yet. Return with haste with what I need, Hallig and Guthred, and I promise you all, the King¡¯s gold will be ours for the taking.¡±


    Vitharr returned his attention to the door, and once again let the sound of the storm fill his ear and take his focus. ¡°The ship must be guarded, night and day, until Hallig returns to us.¡±


    ********************


    Paguin was as alive as it had ever been, bustling and brimming with men and women that have come from a number of small villages across the isles to join the King, in hopes of receiving the promised pay. In truth, there was little sense of patriotism in the hearts of these folk, all of them settlers or descendants of settlers that were brought to work the fields and harvest as part of King Lewyn¡¯s enterprise. The greed and cunning of the King kept their usual pay for their usual work low, low enough to make leaving the isles on a ship a financial impossibility, but still leaving their earnings to be more than what they may have made elsewhere, but just slightly. It is for this reason that many had come in support of the King; opportunities for extra pay were a luxury, despite the danger.


    The sellswords and armed peasants that had gathered in the town were all awaiting the call of Captain Skrig to set out, and as such were spending their time inside inns and pubs, drinking and whoring to pass the time by. Within one such pub, a group of sellswords drank merrily, and sharing their table with them were the two newly joined mercenaries, Guthred and Hallig. ¡°I am glad to have Vinmen with us.¡± Said one sellsword before gulping down a helping of ale. ¡°You people know how these raiders think, don¡¯t you? I know a few Vinmen settlers the King brought over from the west to harvest the spices. Nice folk, if a bit slow.¡± These men liked to talk quite a lot.


    ¡°I look forward to the battle to come.¡± Said Hallig. Guthred was rather quiet, minding only his cup of ale. Hallig was a far better conversationalist than the young hunter; they agreed that Hallig would do the speaking for now. ¡°How much longer must we wait before it is time? My sword arm is beginning to rot!¡± Complained Hallig to the sellswords¡¯ amusement as they all shared in a laugh.


    ¡°The Captain won¡¯t be sailing rough seas. The storms will be crossing very soon, so the Captain will want to move before then.¡±


    ¡°What do you mean, the storms will cross?¡± Questioned Hallig with a furrowed brow.


    ¡°I forget you haven¡¯t been here long! The Storm Isles are a strange place. Across the islands there exist living storms. Not truly living, but they move as if they were!¡± Explained one of the sellswords, slightly slurring his words, evidently a bit drunk.


    Another warrior interjected to continue more clearly. ¡°The storms follow set paths around and through each island. Never in all the years have people been here has the pattern of their paths changed, nor have any of the storms subsided. One of the storms will hit Paguin soon, so to avoid the storm we must sail before then.¡±


    ¡°How could such a thing be?¡± Both Hallig and Guthred appeared dumbfounded, what sort of power could have created such a thing to happen? To birth living storms, it left the question of perhaps some god was at play, here on these eastern islands. It was a question no man there could have answered.


    Guthred and Hallig continued to drink and eat with the sellswords until night had fallen on the town. Both Vinmen withdrew from the building full of drunk warriors and met in secret near the border wall of the town. They had discovered what Vitharr asked of them, and it was now they decided to part ways. Hallig placed a hand on the young hunter¡¯s shoulder, knowing Guthred was to remain and that the young man doubted himself. ¡°In my experience, what Vitharr thinks of people is found to be true. If he says you can do this, then you can.¡± Whether he believed he could do it or not, Guthred knew that he must do it in the end. Clasping their hands together, the Vinmen bid each other farewell.


    ********************


    The storm had passed over the village of Ames, leaving it muddy and cluttered with debris blown in, and apart, by the powerful winds. As the sellswords had said, the storm itself was now traveling down the western coast of the island. Within the shack of a hall belonging to Ames there came shouts. Ever since Hallig¡¯s travels came to an end and the man returned to Vitharr with news, the shouting had not ceased. ¡°I will not agree to this!¡± Bellowed a furious Runa as she paced around the confining hall.


    ¡°You wanted riches and glory. We all did, and still do.¡± Said Vitharr as he watched Runa and the other companions. ¡°This is the way.¡±


    ¡°If we leave you here, they will come and you will die. You will die alone, Vitharr!¡± The Vinwoman snapped back in her rage. ¡°I will not allow it!¡±


    ¡°What Runa says is true, Lord.¡± Spoke Hallig now. ¡°I have seen the men, they are unskilled but numerous. Alone you would not survive.¡± Each companion voiced their concerns, and without exception had all shared Runa¡¯s objection to the raid leader¡¯s proposed plan.


    ¡°I do not understand, Vitharr.¡± The towering Sveinn came forward, a woeful expression on his face as he grabbed Vitharr by the shoulders. ¡°Change your plan. I beg you, do not send us away. If you must, then let me stay and use my axe for you as I have always done.¡±


    Reaching up, Vitharr gave Sveinn a pat on his shoulder. ¡°You most of all must go, Sveinn. Your strength is something they will need, when the time comes.¡± The sorrow upon Sveinn¡¯s face held as he released Vitharr¡¯s shoulders and stepped aside. He would heed Vitharr¡¯s word, always, but the notion of leaving his old friend behind, alone, was nearly too much.


    ¡°Halldor, speak some sense to your brother, make him see reason!¡± Insisted Runa, the Vinwoman seemingly just a moment away from losing her mind to anger.


    The frail interpreter rose from his seated position near the wall with the help of his walking stick. ¡°You have always acted foolishly, little brother.¡± Just when Runa thought Halldor was with her, the interpreter continued. ¡°But this time you must continue on this path. The Grey Ones are watching now, every step.¡± Once Young Halldor had said his piece, Runa appeared ready to strangle the sickly Vinman where he stood.


    ¡°Vitharr Halldorsson.¡± Before that could come to pass, however, Torold stepped forward. ¡°I am not one of your old friends. I am not your protector or your kin. I am not a great warrior, nor do I possess great strength.¡± The companions all turned now to heed Torold. ¡°There is nothing in this world that I have, not even family. Allow me, a warrior with nothing to provide or return to, to stay with you. I speak for all the Companions when I say this will make accepting your plan to be easier.¡±


    The words of the young warrior made Vitharr turn to see if the other companions would agree to that. Each man and woman faced Vitharr now, wearing conflicted but satisfied expressions as they affirmed with nods and grunts. ¡°Then Torold, you and I will remain while the others set out to sea.¡±


    ¡°Should you die, Lord, I will see to it that your sacrifice is spread with song.¡± Said Dag the Skald. Though this was not precisely what she had been shouting for, at the very least Runa could accept Vitharr would not be alone.


    Runa clasped her hand on the Vinman¡¯s neck and leaned in, resting her forehead against his. ¡°You will not die. But if you must, do it with sword in hand, and while standing.¡±


    The Companions all made their farewells to both Vitharr and Torold, Sveinn, Runa, and even the outwardly cold Young Halldor found it difficult to leave Vitharr behind, but in the end they had all boarded their ship and sailed off across the sea. Vitharr Halldorsson and Torold were the only ones to remain in the tiny hall now, and it was there that they would stay. ¡°Do you also think my plan is reckless, Torold?¡± Questioned Vitharr, breaking the silence of the hall.


    ¡°I think I was right to join your warband. Should death come, I will not feel regret, Vitharr Halldorsson.¡±


    It was not long since the companions had separated and sailed off before Captain Skrig and the King¡¯s men had come to port in the poor village of Ames. The armed peasants rushed into town, expecting a battle, but found the village bare of people, and of warriors. Soon they came to the small hall. It was inside they came to see the two seated Vinmen, Vitharr and Torold, who had both taken up axe, sword, and shield. Without any exchange of words, Vitharr loosed a battle cry before charging in against the sellswords, with Torold just beside him. Though both Vinmen were far outnumbered, that did not diminish the fury with which they fought. The men that accompanied the Captain were no warriors, and one by one they fell to the blade and axe of the Vinmen, some killed but most simply lamed and wounded.


    It was all for naught, however, and the raiders knew it. It was not long until the sheer number of the peasant armsmen overwhelmed the two, and they both found themselves on the ground with their arms bound in rope. Once both warriors were ultimately subdued, the Captain came to inspect the prisoners, ordering them both to be brought to their feet. First he observed Torold, checking his face closely before moving to Vitharr. ¡°The marking of a serpent on your face. You must be Vitharr Halldorsson.¡± Spoke Captain Skrig to the wounded and battered Vinman. ¡°Your ship was nowhere to be seen.¡± The idea seemed to please the Captain. ¡°Did they mutiny? Expected of wild men.¡± Neither Torold nor Vitharr revealed a thing, to the Captain¡¯s annoyance. ¡°Speak or don¡¯t, I get my pay either way. Take them to the ship, we return to the King.¡± The sellswords took hold of Vitharr and Torold¡¯s bound arms and forcefully directed them out of the hall and towards the ships that had landed on shore.


    The Captain had taken his prize and intended to sail back to the town of Paguin, just in time to make it back before the storm hits, but only barely. A timing the Captain had counted on when he left to strike at Ames, and, unbeknownst to him, the very same timing that gave rise to the smirk on Vitharr Halldorsson¡¯s face.

 Chapter 4: The Storm

    The winds were blowing fiercely through Paguin when the Captain had arrived with his two Vinnish prisoners. Thunder boomed as lightning flashed in the distance; the storm was moments away from bringing a downpour. The Captain and the King¡¯s sellswords marched the raiders through town, but not to fanfare. Most townsmen were busy making sure to prepare their homes and stalls for the coming storm. The prisoners were marched to the King¡¯s hall and brought into his court, where Lewyn had already been seated in wait. Both Vitharr and Torold were forced forward and onto their knees, despite their resistance.


    ¡°Well done, Captain. And the others?¡± Spoke the King, eyeing the two restrained Vinmen.


    ¡°It appears they took their ship and left these two behind, Lord. Wherever they are, they weren¡¯t there to fight with these two.¡± Responded the Captain. Rising from his throne, King Lewyn folded his hands behind his back, giving both Vitharr and Torold an inspection.


    ¡°So much for the threat of the Vinmen raiders. Their leader brought low by simple sellswords.¡± The King mocked. Vitharr held a defiant expression, his confidence not once waning since his capture. Torold exchanged a look with Vitharr but both remained quiet as the King stepped toward the Captain. ¡°As per our agreement, your pay is waiting for you at the entrance hall.¡± King Lewyn motioned toward the exit. ¡°You may leave, but I would suggest you stay.¡± Turning back to the Vinmen, the King eyed Vitharr in particular. ¡°You will not want to miss the spectacle of their execution. I expect the entire town to be in attendance.¡± Lewyn smiled knowingly.


    Outside, the storm had completely engulfed the town. Terrible winds and torrents of rain blew across the buildings, with lightning surging directly overhead in the black-grey sky. With the help of more sellsword guards, Vitharr and Torold were ushered through the tempest wreathed town of Paguin to its western border. It was there that they came to a large wooden dome building, larger than even the King¡¯s keep it seemed. Torches were alight all around its base, their flames whipping this way and that with the wind, though remained alight regardless. Captain Skrig and his sellswords pushed the heavy wooden doors of the building open. Forcing Vitharr and Torold inside, the group made their way across the hardwood floor and into a chamber located in the back.


    They entered to the cries and shouts of an expectant crowd. They had come to be within some sort of arena, with the audience populating elevated wooden stands that surrounded a circular pit. There was a mix of cheering and jeering from the onlooking townsfolk as the two raiders were brought to the edge of the pit. These folk rarely were able to partake in the entertainment that the fighting pit could provide, and with the storm outside hitting its peak intensity, they were able to find both shelter and a means to pass the time. The King had gone toward the opposite side of where the group had entered, where a similar brass throne to the one in the keep was situated.


    As the King stood before his throne, Vitharr and Torold had their rope binds cut free before being shoved over the ledge and into the pit. They both hit the dirt floor with grunts and thuds, but luckily they did not break anything. ¡°Today marks the first time in several years we have gathered here!¡± Announced the King to the cheering rabble in the stands. ¡°An occasion brought about by the murderous and savage Vinmen before you!¡± The sound of jeering filled the pit. ¡°This Vinman, Vitharr Halldorsson, not only insulted me with his beheading of my men, but also you by bringing fear and disruption to our peaceful home! As such, for his trespasses, I sentence these Vinmen to death!¡± From up above, Captain Skrig and his sellswords threw down the armaments that Vitharr and Torold held before their capture. They both took up their shields and weapons, exchanging a look.


    ¡°What is this, Vitharr? What sort of death does this King mean?¡± Questioned Torold as the sound of the crowd filled the building. Vitharr gave a glance at their surroundings once Torold posed his question. The walls of the circular pit were wooden, or perhaps simply covered by wood, with no way back up to the surface. However, at the northern and southern ends of the pit appeared to be sections of a wooden gate. Just as soon as he spied them, both doors began to creak as they were pulled upward and opened.


    ¡°Whatever sort of death comes, Torold, we fight it together. Move to the center, quickly!¡±


    The two young Vinmen hurried toward the center of the pit, standing at each other¡¯s backs, both facing one of the opening wooden gates. When the passages were fully revealed, they could only see darkness. ¡°There is a sound. Can you hear it, Vitharr?¡± Asked Torold, his shield up and protecting his front. The raid leader was about to deny perceiving a thing, only to hear echoing bestial screeches from the depths of the hallways. There came a rumbling, at first quiet and barely noticeable, but before long causing the ground at the Vinmen¡¯s feet to shake. ¡°Agh!¡± A creature leaped out from the darkness at the surprised Torold. The young Vinmen hadn¡¯t the slightest clue what the creatures they saw were, but Torold shouted, ¡°Dragonkin!?¡±


    The body of the creature was thickly scaled and almost leathery in appearance. Its mouth widened to a size easily able to grip Torold¡¯s entire head should it try to, revealing its teeth to be like small razor sharp spikes. It had four limbs, four claws, but raced across the ground on two large feet, with one claw on either foot appearing like a curved hook. This creature was no dragonkin, but a monster born from the wild southern jungles of Meridiem. What Torold now tried to keep away with his shield could only have been a Meridiem raptor. Soon, several more poured into the pit from the hallways, roaring, screeching, and circling around the two Vinmen. The raptors had been starved of food, given little to appease their ravenous appetites, and today, in this feeding ground, they meant to consume Vinmen. ¡°They are beasts! Just beasts!¡± Yelled Vitharr as one of the raptors charged at him with its mouth opened, only to receive a slash across the roof of its maw by the defending Vinman. With a yelp, the creature doubled back, but merely gave another of its pack a chance to claw and bite at Vitharr¡¯s shield.


    Torold could barely find the opportunity to retaliate, using his Vinnish shield to try and deflect and force back every attempted charge the monstrous lizards bore down on him with. The cheering of the crowd nearly drowned out the sound of the booming storm outside, something the two Vinmen had almost forgotten about as they faced the ravenous pack. As quickly as the raptors made their charges they also made their retreat, leaving neither Vinmen a chance to fell one. Vitharr recalled his earlier attack however, the landing of that strike could not have been a coincidence.


    ¡°Torold!¡± Shouted Vitharr to get the Vinman¡¯s attention. ¡°They will just flee our blades while we defend--ugh!¡±


    Torold brought up his shield to block a swipe of a claw, bits of wood flying off its surface. ¡°What do we do, then!?¡±


    ¡°We have no choice, we must risk an attack while one charges!¡± As they both continued to only defend, their shields continually were worn down, they did not have long before they were defenseless.


    ¡°I¡­ I do not know if I can, Vitharr!¡±


    ¡°We can, and we must!¡± After saying this, Vitharr faced an incoming charge, but this time did not raise his shield. Abandoning his fear of the creature¡¯s claws and teeth, he put all his strength into a forward thrust, and plunged his Vinnish sword into the raptor¡¯s mouth and through the back of its neck. Yanking the blade out, the raptor¡¯s heavy body lifelessly collapsed to the ground.


    This was the way, thought Vitharr, for their shields would not last long with these continued assaults. Torold, however, was having trouble finding his courage, and kept his battered shield at his front, still unable to swing his axe. While the pack of raptors ran around them in a dizzying display, and while they continued their attempted strikes, Vitharr tried to let Torold hear and heed him. ¡°Your mind is telling you all sorts of things, is it not?¡± Began Vitharr, his eyes still preoccupied with the raptors. ¡°Your parents and grandparents who now dwell with the Grey are watching you, Torold! Did you not tell me they were warriors!?¡± Bellowed Vitharr as he viciously slashed off a charging raptor¡¯s claws. ¡°Do you wish them to see the common fisherman that you once were!?¡±


    The fear-gripped Torold held against the raptors as he listened to Vitharr, shouting, ¡°No!¡±


    ¡°Do you wish them to see a scared boy mewling for his mother!?¡± Vitharr¡¯s voice echoed through the small pit.


    ¡°NO!¡± Torold shouted as a wooden chunk flew off the edge of his worn shield under the assault of the beasts.


    ¡°Then show them the blood of a warrior!¡±


    With a battle cry, Torold forced himself free out of his own fears and brought his handaxe down onto the leathery skull of one of the starving raptors. The creature was not quite dead as it squealed and tried to slip away, only for Torold to bring more blows down against it. The two young Vinmen did their best to keep together and to fell the raptors, and before long there were none left alive. Their survival came at a cost however. Both had weathered the passing cuts and slashes of the creatures¡¯ claws. Blood dripped from their fronts, some wounds more severe than others, but they had survived.


    Torold dropped his ruined shield, it would serve no one in the state it was in, and clasped his free hand on Vitharr¡¯s shoulder. ¡°Thank you, Vitharr. I had nearly lost myself to fear.¡±


    ¡°You helped yourself, Torold. I merely reminded you of your courage. Keep it with you, and we may survive yet.¡±


    The pair had come through the first trial with their lives, but the crowd continued to watch and jeer, and the King had yet to reveal their true end. With the raptors felled, it was now time for the execution to begin. Thud, thud. Both Vinmen turned toward the rumbling that was growing louder. This time, it came from only one hallway, and disturbingly the ground shook with far more intensity.


    Before either Vinmen could have reacted, the creature came barrelling out of the passage with guttural roaring and grabbed hold of Torold. A cave troll, massive in size, its tough skin covered with patches of fungus and mud. The monstrous creature slammed the young Torold against the ground, then against the walls of the pit, then finally threw him across the arena, letting him roll and stop cold, his body broken and crushed. Torold¡¯s life was snuffed out in an instant right before Vitharr¡¯s eyes. The lumbering cave troll gave a thunderous cry and scratched at its large belly. The death of his companion, of his friend, of someone he had promised a life of riches and fame to, struck the raid leader hard. But it was not fear that filled his young heart, but a blinding rage. Not wholly due to Torold¡¯s passing however; at the sight of the trollkin, something had welled up within the Vinman. Something primal and instinctual in nature. Despite his thoughts, which told him that before the might of this troll he was smaller, which told him he was weaker, which told him he would die just as quickly as Torold, despite it all his feet charged across the arena. With his sword and shield raised, he loosed a blood curdling battle cry as he abandoned all logic. With consecutive furious strikes, Vitharr cut across the troll¡¯s forearms, hands, legs, whatever piece of the trollkin was in his way.


    The cave troll loosed groans as it suddenly felt pain and its blood flew off this way and that under the Vinman¡¯s strikes. For a moment it appeared as if Vitharr was beating the troll into submission. But it was merely a confused stupor at the painful sensations. The troll had enough and grabbed hold of Vitharr¡¯s body just as it did Torold. It raised the Vinman up into the air and brought him close to its face. Close enough for Vitharr to plunge his sword into the creature¡¯s eye. The cave troll loosed a booming yelp and dropped the Vinman in order to grip at its bleeding and lost eye. Vitharr fell to the ground with a heavy thud, and took a moment to return to his feet. While the cave troll whined at the pain it felt in its eye, the young Vinman raised his sword once again and charged with reckless abandon. The troll flailed its massive limbs, and though it was half blind was able to strike the Vinman with its clumsy swinging. Though Vitharr tried to block with his worn shield, it was utterly shattered into bits of wood and metal. The force of the blow tossed the young Vinman aside. The bones of his shield arm were broken, and he realized it only when he came to a rolling stop.


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    The troll¡¯s flailing ceased as it continued to moan at the pain it felt, but it was soon inevitable it would ignore the sensation and seek its revenge. Vitharr¡¯s body, battered, bruised and broken, struggled to move but the Vinman found his second wind. He no longer had a shield, nor even a shield arm to operate one. With only his Vinnish sword, he returned to his feet. If he was to die, he would die on his feet and with sword in hand, a promise he would keep. The promise of a good death, and to join the Grey Ones, propelled the young warrior forward across the pit. The cave troll had seated itself as it held its eye but could see the approaching Vinman clearly with its other. Releasing its face, the half blind troll reached out to try and grab the Vinman when he came close enough. With a final cry, Vitharr jumped, causing the half blind creature to misjudge its reach as its clumsy meaty fingers gripped at the air and missed. With his sword above him, Vitharr plunged it downward into the troll¡¯s other eye, sinking the blade deep into its skull.


    It was over. The troll slumped against the wall of the pit, then slid down onto the dirt floor, throwing Vitharr off of its lifeless body. The crowd fell silent as they witnessed it. The silence was deafening, as the only thing to cut the quiet was the panting breaths of the Vinman in the pit below. The King stood, the shock plain on his royal visage. This was not the end he had envisioned for the raider, nor was it even a thing he could have imagined happening. His shock soon gave way to anger as he bellowed. ¡°Archers! Where are my archers!? Shoot that man, now!¡±


    But before any bowman could come forward to heed the order, there came another shout, this time from the entrance hall of the domed building. ¡°Fire! There¡¯s fire!¡± Confusion flew through the stands at the shout, and some vacated in order to see what exactly was happening. As one went to see, more accompanied in haste, as each man and woman had something to lose should a fire spread and engulf their homes and livelihoods. Outside the storm continued to swirl and rage overhead. Darkness had covered the entire town, and though barely anything could have been seen, the fire was a veritable beacon. In the center of the town, where the stone hall of the King once stood, they could see only a towering fire. Though the wind and the rain were strong, they seemed to do nothing to subdue the strength of the fire that was no doubt at risk of spreading.


    Shouts of fire were soon accompanied by the screams of the townsfolk whose homes were just near the flame engulfed hall. ¡°Where are you going!? I said shoot this man!¡± Yelled the King but was met by deaf ears as the gathered rabble tried to rush out into the town.


    ¡°Find something to carry water, hurry!¡± Came a shout from outside as the people and the sellswords vacated the dome building. While this was all happening, Vitharr had struggled his way over to Torold¡¯s body. The warrior was indeed gone, but Vitharr had to see for himself. Lamenting, he sat down beside his fallen friend¡¯s body.


    The King above looked down at his captive, finding his composure. ¡°Once they have dealt with the fire, you will be executed. We have dealt with lightning fires before.¡± Spoke the King, stepping closer to the edge of the pit. The sound of screams outside could be heard, though difficult to make out while within the building, between the roaring wind and the walls.


    Vitharr rested his troll blooded sword against his lap, and raised his black haired head to meet the King¡¯s eyes. ¡°It is not the lightning that has come, Lord King. But vengeance.¡±


    The screaming grew louder, closer, precipitated by the sound of clashing blades and the thudding of metal against flesh and bone. Before long, the doors of the dome building were forced open from the outside, allowing the wind and rain to rush in again. The booming thunder echoed throughout the fighting pit as figures moved inside from the darkness. Drenched with both the water of the rain and the tumultuous sea, the nine companions entered with blood dripping from all of their weapons.


    ¡°Who are- how could this be!?¡± The King quickly recognized Runa who had led the way, her handaxe soaked in blood. With the bellowing of the wind and the crashing of thunder, the sea soaked Vinmen appeared as if demons risen from the depths of the ocean. There was no explanation coming for the King as the nine companions spread out across the edge of the pit toward him and his throne. Vitharr¡¯s plan had come to pass, his gamble a success but, in the Vinman¡¯s mind, came at a great cost with the loss of Torold.


    Ever since their arrival to these strange islands, Vitharr had observed the raging grey storm. He had witnessed its movements, and saw the strangeness of it. Something inside him had hinted at its nature, only becoming completely clear once Hallig returned with word that the storms were living. And so Vitharr¡¯s plan came to be; if the King wished for him to be taken alive, then he will allow it. If the Captain and his men would sail before the storm would cross Paguin, then he would wait for their arrival. He would send his friends, his warband, away to avoid the slaughter they would face against an army, and bid them to wait. For once Vitharr was to face his own execution, and allow himself to die, he would have his companions use the storm to cover their invasion of the town. With the help of Guthred of the Havardr who acted as spy within the walls of Paguin, they would pillage everything, from the King¡¯s hall to whatever they could lay claim to, and leave these tempest ridden islands with the riches they had won.


    But his plan had ended differently than he had envisioned. He was not the one to die as he had sought, but Torold who gave his life by his side. His companions had taken the gold and silver, but did not leave as planned either, and had come to exact vengeance against the King. Vitharr perhaps should have been angry that they did not leave and instead came for him, but the bonds of the Companions lifted his spirits. They did not know where Vitharr and Torold would be, and as such did not expect to find a pit. While some of the companions attempted to find Vitharr a way up, Runa had taken the King captive. With the help of the large Vinman, Sveinn the Pup, holding Hallig up by his feet, the companions were able to reach down into the pit and pull Vitharr out.


    Sveinn hugged his beaten and wounded friend, and the other gathered companions shared in the sadness of Torold¡¯s passing. While they reunited, Runa brought the King before Vitharr and forced the monarch to his knees. Vitharr was helped to his feet, still hanging on to the Vinnish sword that dripped with the blood of the deceased troll. King Lewyn thought to call out for aid, but knew that with the storm outside no one would hear him, nor would they be torn from trying to douse the fires. Instead, he did what he was best at. ¡°You¡­ you have done well, Vitharr Halldorsson. I am impressed. You wished for one thousand pounds weight of silver and one hundred pounds weight of gold, I believe? I¡­ I do think such an arrangement could be possible.¡± Vitharr stared down at the bargaining King, the disgust evident on his face did little to make apparent how much he wished to vomit at the sight of the disgrace before him. Runa forced the King¡¯s brass colored crown off of his head and, without so much as a word, Vitharr swiftly freed King Lewyn¡¯s skull from his body with a swing of his troll felling sword.


    The deed was done, and the vengeance of the companions had come to an end. As the ten companions made their way out of the domed building and into the storm, they were met by the rushing, sloshing steps of Captain Skrig and the King¡¯s sellswords. While Torold and Vitharr had contended with the trials of the fighting pit, the nine companions had killed any sellsword guard that had been in town, cutting a bloody path through the mud streets. It was now that the Captain realized the amount of dead which were in the town, and rushed to see to the King.


    And see him he did. Vitharr Halldorsson raised the severed head of the King for all gathered to see, and tossed the skull into the mud at the Captain¡¯s feet. The Captain stared, dumbfounded a moment, but did not back down. He gripped at his sword, ready to contend with these ten warriors, for they were still outnumbered.


    However, a battle did not ensue. The sellswords each dropped their weapons into the mud, for the King was dead, and so was the promise of a reward the King had given. They held no love for the man, only love for his silver. Each warrior had no thoughts to risk their lives for a corpse, tyrant that he was. The companions stared at the Captain now, the ten figures shrouded in darkness as they each gripped tightly at their weapons. There was no choice for the Captain but to follow the examples of the sellswords. Dropping his weapon into the mud, he and the peasant sellswords all moved aside and out of the way of the Companions, allowing them each to pass through unharmed. For once the danger of the companions was gone, the peasants sought to try and perhaps steal the riches of the now deceased King.


    Though they could not have known yet, there was no treasure left for them to take. Before the stone hall was set aflame from the inside by the invading companions, they had rid the building of all of its treasures and hoards of silver and gold. With the help of Guthred of the Havardr, this was done. Every piece of wealth that the late King Lewyn had owned was now in the possession of the Companions of Vitharr. As the storm overhead was passing on its course toward the east, the shores of Paguin were relatively calm. The ten companions boarded their treasure filled vessel and left the shores of the Storm Isles, bound now for home and hearth, for Stal Vindur.


    ********************


    ¡°G¨ªfrb¨ªta.¡± Suddenly spoke Dag the Skald. The companions were well on their way on their journey to Stal Vindur, sea stretching out in every direction.


    ¡°What is that for, Dag?¡± Asked Sveinn the Pup who was seated close by.


    ¡°Ah, it is the name I wish to give to Lord Vitharr¡¯s sword. For killing a great troll, it should have a great name for all to know, once I spread our tale to the villages. The sword of Vitharr Halldorsson, G¨ªfrb¨ªta!¡± The Skald said enthusiastically. Vitharr listened but did not share his opinion, for Dag may do as he wished as long as he remained true to what happened.


    Runa regarded Vitharr, seeing as he had been quiet for so long. ¡°Vitharr, what is it you plan to do with your share of the plunder?¡± The Companions now all turned to look upon their raid leader, a question they were thankful Runa had asked for they were all suddenly very curious.


    ¡°What I planned to do since the beginning.¡± Began Vitharr. ¡°There is some land just outside of the land owned by my father, Halldor the Furious. There is a hill, in a clearing surrounded by trees.¡±


    ¡°Where we used to play, you, me, Sveinn, and Young Halldor.¡± Commented Runa knowingly.


    ¡°It is land I will take.¡± Affirmed Vitharr. ¡°There I will build the greatest mead hall any of us has seen. For my friends, my companions, to come and rest. To boast, to drink and to come together to plan.¡± There was a silence that came over the companions now, but a pleasant one. Each of them tried to picture what such a hall would look like, and each of them looked forward to sitting at the long table and sharing in the joy of won battles and raided plunder. ¡°This great hall I will call Torhvild, a reward for our fallen companion that gave his life honorably.¡±


    ********************


    The raiding venture that Vitharr Halldorsson had assembled these young warriors for was proven fruitful in the end. While their ship was full to brimming with riches, it was Vitharr who did not once forget of the runic chest left behind at the very beginning of their journey. They had retrieved it, the chest itself untouched for all the time they had been gone, and added it to their hoard of spoils. It was this unopenable runic chest that would soon come to decorate the great hall Torhvild, the hall and home of the young warband, the Companions of Vitharr. Word spread across the scattered villages and homes nearby to this hall. Skalds learned and shared the recent tales of the Companions, brought about by the work of the budding Dag. These tales attracted the young and bold, hearts ignited by the story of a group of young warriors their same age or younger, those who wished to see if they could find in themselves the same potential the Companions had shown.


    These aspiring warriors would come from all around, all hoping to hear of the boasting and the stories the now battle-scarred warriors of the Companions could share in person, and most of all to meet the one that began it all, Vitharr Halldorsson, the Lord of Torhvild Hall.