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BattleMaster => Roleplaying => Topic started by: Ender on June 23, 2013, 01:11:06 AM

Title: Where Bjarni Sees a Dead Dread Lord and a Meteorological Anomaly
Post by: Ender on June 23, 2013, 01:11:06 AM
Dark clouds churned over the docks in Makar as Bjarni Neill supervised the loading of the last keg of mead onto his father’s longship. The crew, an assortment of burly men who fit what his father deemed was Viking, were already settling in near the oars to propel the ship away from the harbor to catch the winds. As the workers pushed the keg into place, they ran up the loading ramp and accepted the bag of gold Bjarni was holding out before vanishing into a nearby building. His purse a little lighter, Bjarni turned and looked on his father for what would probably be the last time.

The old Viking looked every bit as strong as the legends claimed despite the snow white hair that occupied his head and face and the deep wrinkles that had set in over time. Ender turned and looked at his son casually before placing a hand on his shoulder in an unusual gesture of affection.

“Keep the Clan strong, lad. Your brother has the strength of ten, but he doesn’t have the southerner’s mind like your mother gave you. It gives you good wits, even if it makes you little better than, well, Loki, I suppose.”

“The Clan will survive you father. There’s no doubting that.”

His father nodded and walked towards his ship, pausing on the ramp and turning back one last time.

“The gods tested Heorot and we failed. I’ll go find them now and see if they will deny me entry in Valhalla yet again.”

With that he stepped onto the ship and roared a command at the crew. As the longship pulled away from the docks Ender took position on the bow and stared into the frozen north beyond where all Neill’s believed their destinies lie. Bjarni watched as the ship shrank towards the horizon and felt a chill as the wind picked up and the clouds darkened even more. He felt a hand on his shoulder again, an echo of his father’s gesture, and turned to see his brutish younger brother, Erik.

“A storm is coming, Bjarni. We need to get inside. Besides, you don’t want father to look back and see you standing here all sentimental like.”

Bjarni prepared to lash out with a response when they heard the deep rumble of thunder overhead.

“Thunder? In the middle of a blizzard?” Bjarni turned his head to listen again and looked out over the harbor where black clouds started to drop huge sheets of snow across the water as the wind picked up all at once and whipped around them.

“Bjarni…” Erik tried grabbing his brother’s arm as the heavens cracked open and a massive fork of bright blue lightning lashed out of the sky and smacked down into the bay. Bjarni felt his brother’s grip loosen as they noticed where the bolt had hit.

Where Ender Neill’s longship had been was now a pillar of flame with snow swirling around it. Bjarni searched the distant pyre to see if any of the Vikings on board were abandoning the ship, but all he could see was the inferno and then nothing as the ship slipped beneath the choppy waves and the snow purged the smoke from the air.

Bjarni opened his mouth in shock and looked up at his brother’s grim face.

“We need to get inside, Bjarni, before the gods claim us too.”

“What?” Bjarni said in protest, wondering why the gods would act now, as his brother dragged him towards the nearby mead hall.

“The gods, brother. Who else but Thor would conjure lightning in a blizzard and strike our father down?” Erik threw Bjarni through the door and slammed it shut behind them. A nearby warrior, a mercenary by the look of his armor, walked up and handed the two of them mugs of mead. Erik took a swig and smacked his brother on the back. Bjarni's face smacked into the rim of his tankard and he glared up at his brother who had a huge grin spread across his face.

“Cheer up, Bjarni. He’s finally found his beloved place in Valhalla!”