Private Tales Another Iron in the fire...

[Solveig Odasson]

It was a cold day, even for Nordengaard. But in the forge of Erik Bright-hand, one sweated enough a shirt would be soaked while work was done, and frozen as you took a rest. Shirtless, as he was... Well, you ran a risk of spark-harm, but it was better than taking ill. Erik was doing just that, "resting" debating heatedly with he and Suri dithered over whether the coin should be spent on a new grinding stone, or replacing some worn cookware. Solveig smiled as his right leg, covered in worn leather boots and dun trousers, worked the specially made treadle-bellows Erik had to feed the forge.

There would be a suitable order in trade made with the ironmonger a few streets over, Erik and Solveig likely making him new knives for him an his in return for the pots, pans, and other sundries that Suri required. Erik was stubborn as the iron they forged, but Suri was a fire that could soften him. That was probably why they wound up with each other whenever Suri wasn't out being a huntress in the wilds.

The coals glowing just right, Solveig thrust iron into the fire, heating it. Most might have judged him odd, for when he pulled it free of the fire it was neither malleable hot or the color for tempering, but a weak ruddy blue-black almost. Just enough for chiseling, for his purposes. The metal was precious, rare. Nothing absurdly strong like Solstal steel. But it was ore from a metorite, an it had an inclusion in it that would make it polish up even brighter than normal, if a smith treated it right.

That knowledge was why Erik was so famed. He didn't just know how a thing was made, but he also knew why it would be able to be made thus. Most could barely work star-metal, because of a tendency to be brittle and less forgiving. Layering in bands of low iron, the almost soft kind, was the trick. It gave the resulting billet and end product a lustre that surpassed even silver. Taking up one of Erik's finer chisels, Solveig blocked and braced the waiting axe-head just to the side of the forge. Short pipes of copper and iron ran to the block that was set on a stone plinth. A collaboration between Erik and Solveig, it allowed the younger Journeyman to work his rudimentary Rune-Magic on the piece, while combining a smaller heat funnel from the main forge to keep the metal from cooling entirely and creating more finish work. Plus, the runes seemed to carve easier in the pieces then. Whether affectation or actual magic, Solveig wasn't sure.

A smaller hammer was selected from the rack, and a few mighty stomps of the bellows to stoke to fire as the piping was let open. Erik had called him "clever as a damned dwarf" when he had suggested it. Tapping began with the fine chisel, behind the eye but still above the butt, and even on the butt. A fairly simple rune, but one he had been working on in his idle time. There were so many ways to do something for brightness, but they were often robbed of the beauty that star-steel had it moonlight. So studying the patterns for the Runes covering 'star', 'bright' and 'glow', Solveig had decided to attempt his first original work. It was minor enough even failure shouldn't be too painful. Erik would be furious, but if Solveig succeeded the pride would quickly outweight fury.

Minutes went by, sweat beading along the brow of pulled back blonde hair, running into the braided goatee of the younger smith. Finally, the design done, Solveig grabbed the very same chisel he had carved the rune with and pressed the flat of his off-handed palm into it with a hiss. Blood welled onto the tip, and Solveig quickly worked it into the Rune he had just carved, A quick push of the bellow made the blood sizzle in the markings, and quickly he pulled it free and thrust it to the quench. More steam than usual billowed free, and his stomach churned beneath the simple leather of his battered smith's apron. The same tug of weakness. The cost. What little Erik knew of the runes warned of the Cost.

Pulling it out, Solveig smiled. Even needing a wipe, etch, and final polish, the axe head already was nearly glowing with a cold, beautiful light. Impractical in it's whole being for a weapon. But that wasn't the point. The point was a testament of skill. Though, if Solveig were right the weapon would glow brighter at night, at need regular exposure to starlight to keep the effect. Still... He had managed it. For a moment, the leanly muscled smith leaned against a wooden post of the forge, back away from the house and facing into the alley, catching his breath as the nausea settled to the rather strong fatigue such workings were beginning to familiarize himself with. The axe-head lay on a work bench just near the house, wiped by a rag next to it, showing the undulating patterns of the two metals forge-welded together, when the light hit just right. The final etch and polish would bring about something even more striking.

Maude

 

[Maude]

Worn boots crunched across snow and ice covered cobble, tracking through the merchant district of the capital with purpose. Deep in thought as she was and preferring not to be sidetracked, Maude traveled with the hood of her cloak pulled and her red hair braided back from sight. There were many things that required her attention, some close and others quite far away, begging a fair amount of travel in her future.

That meant stocking up on the essentials.

It had been some time since she'd stopped in to see Erik, perhaps even over a year. No doubt things had changed, but Maude had been relieved to learn the Master Smith hadn't been lost to Borvenir's coup. Erik was a smart man, knew how to stick to his work and keep his head down and no one could fault him for that. Last they'd spoke she'd been merely a Ranger of King Iordahn, gone more often on mission than she was at home in the Capital. But Erik had crafted her many an arrowhead before and the broken dagger she now sought to replace.

Broken now at no fault of his own. No one could have foreseen what that simple Ranger would have become within a year.

"Erik!" she called out as she neared the smithy, drawing up the steep incline of icy steps to the level the home and craftshop sat upon. Breath billowing from her lips, she paused as she reached the top, turning a green gaze towards the man standing outside: decidedly not Erik but a learning Smith judging by his smock and bare chest.

"Where is your Master? I must speak with him."

 

[Solveig Odasson]

Turning to the voice, Solveig grunted. Raised voices from inside the hut indicated Suri. Then a loud hollow thud. As if a pot or pan impacting something particularly solid. Followed by a bellow and the sound of the front door slapping open. The journeyman cracked a wry smile, and nodded as he wiped his brow, smearing ash across the glyph there. Perhaps more formality could have "been made for the Queen. But Solveig only knew she was young and redhead. And that was not uncommon amongst his people. So he merely took a moment to plunge his face into the non-brined quench and shake his head an neck clean with a gasp.

"I believe he just left on an errand for Suri. Sounded quite urgent. I am Solveig, his apprentice. What need have you of my Master?"

With a nod of his head, he took seat at a stool as he grabbed the coldly glimmering axe head, winding a heavy coper wire through it and dipping it to a small vat the the side of the polishing wheel and stool. A quick wipe as it went it from the brass bristled brush, and he sat back. The vat was a substance from the Spine that helped bring out the pattern in the steel. Purely aesthetic. But it would look quite nice with the glowing star-metal.

"It will be a while I'm afraid, so best to just tell me rather than wait. He'll be at Asbjorns a while. Suri was wanting new cook ware. And she may have argued a new bow from the sounds of it. She's tempermental of late."


Maude

 

[Maude]

"So it seems," Maude raised her brows at the commotion of Suri in the background, "and so be it." She paid the man's dripping face no mind, reaching into a leather satchel at her hip to withdraw something wrapped in cloth.

"Your Master made this for me many years ago," she unfurled the cloth to reveal a Ranger's dagger, well worn and well looked after, but snapped through the blade just an inch from the guard, "it lasted me well and I would like to see it repaired if possible. Rather not replace it, that handle is worn in to my grip."

"I also require arrowheads. Broadheads and bodkins, 50 each. I mean to travel in less than a fortnight so I am afraid there is some urgency to this order."

 

[Solveig Odasson]

Pulling the wire and the axe from the vat, he smiled, for a brief moment the imposing woman forgotten. The softer iron had been affected by the substance differently than the star-metal. There was now visible a black and silver hatching pattern to the steel, though the bit at the edge was just purely made steel that gleamed bright and cold, a soft white light that would surely be more visible without the sun.

Standing, he moved to quickly dip it in the quench, neutralizing the first substance, and began to wipe it clean, finally speaking as he did so.

"Broadheads I can do. Iron for hunting I have enough made to fill that part now, though if you are aiming to harm other than game I can make them special. Steel flats, sharpened edges. You wouldn't want to be shot by them then. And they'll cut through any gambeson all the easier too, even a bit of boiled leather. For bodkins? I don't do much of a simple iron point. Most smith's will. Even Erik will, as most archers don't need more. You strike me as more than such... My bodkins are special. I harden the iron to steel, and needle tip the point. Hexagonal, instead of just a squared body. They'll fly truer and pierce all but the best dwarf-plate. Lesser armors, and even most chain shirts, won't pose much a problem"

More thoughts crossed his mind as he took a few steps, looking through a small batch of six rough shaped hafts next to the table and hefting them, finally chosing a dense looking one that was almost black. Bog oak from a small forest up North. A bit heavier than usual, but stupendously strong. Given the pure iron used within the head of the weapon, he couldn't have the handle too light.

"As for the blade..."

He fairly trundled over, the haft braced to his shoulder with long familiarity of such. Careful eyes scanned the blade, and he picked it up, looking at the break.

"Without the rest of it, I can't say exactly what caused the break. Likely age. Steel gives just as a mans bones do. Everything made, by God or mortal, eventually gives. But the best I can offer is to take the hilt down. Melt the steel that remains to the new blade. And reuse the handle. It will respect the bond between you and it, and the effort of Erik to make it. But will keep an eye to it not breaking again by just welding a new tip on like some might. That will take time. I can have it all done in three, maybe four days, if your offer is enough."

The last was said with a less wandering tone to the voice, as much as if Erik had said it. The young smith stepped to the wood tools and sat, beginning to work at the haft to smooth it. The axe head sat on the corner of the work bench, gleaming in a light all it's own, the runic marl on the butt still oddly dark red from blood, despite the polishing and heating. His attention was still hers, but there was always work for one such as himself in the forge of his master.

Maude

 

[Maude]

The man received Maude's rapt attention, green gaze wandering to his efforts as he spoke. The axehead did not receive as much curiosity as it might have from another. Her dislike for axes in general made her biased, her ignorance to enchanted items sealing his work into a state of disregard. She did like the sound of his options on arrowheads, however.

The bow and arrow were a Ranger's first weapon.

"Very well, I am convinced. I will try your special arrowheads, be that on Erik's belt as his Apprentice. The blade broke off in the skull of my enemy, from age or duress of my newfound strength I cannot say. Best to enhance the integrity if you can."

She pulled a parchment from another bag, folded flat and blank, "Have your Master place his price for your work on here and deliver it upon completion. He'll know where to."

Adjusting her hood, Maude turned to peer down another side alley after a face she'd seen just a moment before, "I must be going." She turned and headed off in that same direction but not before relaying the words "Four days!" back at him. Then she was gone.

 

[Solveig Odasson]

Four days was a strain, but as the woman vanished, he turned, setting aside his personal project. More and more, he and Erik were partners than master and apprentice. An order like this, done right, would hopefully look favorably on him earning his own mark. Every smith dreamed to see steel shaped with his own mark upon it. As he turned, Suri was leaned against the back door, staring in the direction that his customer had gone.

"Get to it then... Erik won't like a failed order under his roof, much less his a failing to the Dott'rhi"

None could blame Solveig if his step hustled more as he turned to grab his hammer.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Just shy of noon on the fourth day, technically three and a half days, Solveig showed outside the Frozen Halls. This time, at least, he was dressed. Though still casually. He didn't really own anything formal, and that wasn't how things were really done anyhow. Stout green tunic of wool with simple braided trim, brown trousers and boots. A heavy leather belt circled his waist, a smith's hammer that could likely cave a skull in on one end. A heft seax like knife in the small of his back, and a roll-cloth of oilskin clamped under one arm.

He asked, relaxed, where Maude would be. The first he asked waved vaguely down a hall, and so he strolled that way. They had given his hammer a sideways eye, but like most had figured it more a badge of office than weapon. Which suited him just fine. Now... To find better directions, or to find Maude

 

[Maude]

Solveig would find himself directed to the Council Chamber, a place one was not typically called unless they were in grave trouble or about to get roped into something unexpected. Luckily for Solveig it was mostly the latter. The Chamber doors were open, guards stationed at either side, and the sound of chatter could be heard well out into the hall. When he arrived it would be to the greeting of nearly a dozen sets of eyes: the entirety of the Queen's Council and thensome. Notably, Jorn Helle of Solstal was in attendance - unusual to see her away from her forge deep in the mountain.

The Queen looked up from where she sat pouring over a map. At her left was Aether the High Priest of Kiringsaal. At her right was Hagen, the youngest Councilmember in nearly a century, known to most as Wolfbane.

A small, stout woman known as Denma stopped Solveig several steps into the room. This Councilwoman was head of the Royal Guard's Shield Maidens and a well-known combat instructor. Stand broad, jaw drawn tight, the woman gave him a lookover that rather silently told the man she'd turn him into a pretzel for a wrong word.

"I will inspect the order."

 

[Solveig Odasson]

Solveig walked calmly. Once he had been told where, the minimal nerves he had settled. He adjusted the leather bracers at his wrists, the only 'armor' he wore. A gift from a dalliance a few summers ago, they were stout boars' hide with motifs of his craft modestly tooled on them. At the stouter woman stepped to bark, he nodded in her direction, but still let his gaze take in even the guards before he sat the tool roll down on the table and gave it a push, unfurling it.

With a twist, he pulled out a broadhead of fine iron, with crucible smelted steel edges. The point was wicked, with sleek flats that had sharp bevels to each, making them almost knives in themselves. They would pierce most leather and quilt armor without issue, and bare skin of game would be less of a problem but for the most dire of beasts. The bodkins were a needle point, longer than usual, and tempered steel with a slight flare to the ends, and the same beveled edges that flowed to the singular point. He had tested all this on a piece of spring tempered steel, which he casually laid next to a square of leather with the same testing. The bodkin he had left in the steel square even. In an oil-cloth lay a dagger shape.

"Her dagger is in the cloth. I'd let her touch it first. I worked all I knew into the crucible for the steel in that. Light, good for throwing if need arises. Slightly longer blade, and narrow. Should improve the heft and balance a bit. I had to make a new sheath and baldric to fit due to that, They are there. I can offer personal demonstration if you require, Maiden."

The title was said with utmost respect, and his body language indicated such towards Denma as well. But there was a slight quirk of the lip and brow that spoke of playful pride, something Erik had despaired of beating out of his apprentice early on.

Maude

 

[Maude]

Denma inspected the arrowheads with a keen eye. She may not have been a Ranger like the Queen but she knew a good edge and quality craftmanship of weapons when she saw it. One didn't climb to the height of Royal Guard Shieldmaiden without learning their way around the pointy end of their primary tools.

When she got to the blade and Solveig spoke up, the woman narrowed her eyes at him, "Or maybe I'll demonstrate for the Dott'rhi on you-"

"Denma..." the Queen intoned from the back where she broke her conversation with Aether, "I need him in one piece."

Denma flicked a perturbed brow at the words, picking up the oil cloth to reveal the dagger over a sharp stare at the Smith, "Too bad."

Maude eyed the man and Denma at the front for a moment before returning to her map, "And you are certain it is a new portal stone?"

"The scout's missive was quite clear," Aether nodded, a quaking hand tapping at a location on the map, "the storm uncovered it two days march north of Withereach."

The Queen narrowed her eyes, lips thinning in clear distaste for this news, "Has there been any activity near it?"

"Minimal, thus far. It does not seem to be in relation to the Hearthstone. There have been no signs of Red Mists or the like. Human tracks and scents were found nearby."

"That will make his journey to Elbion far easier," green eyes flickered back to Solveig, "your eye, Denma?"

With a grunt Denma passed the blade to Solveig and rolled up the tool roll, "They will kill," she replied before gesturing to the man to bring them forth to the Queen.

"Solveig," Maude greeted him with an expectant gaze, "I spoke with Erik past evening. He claims you to be one of his greatest Apprentices."

 

[Solveig Odasson]

He grinned, almmost ferally, at the Shield Maiden. There was a hint of challenge, and more than a hint of mirth in his sly nod to her. And he spare her a quiet reply as he stepped forward.

"My master's shop isn't hard to find, if you have the time for a lesson..."

Then he turned his attention to Maude and the priest. Journey to Elbion? Was he to be a guard now? He was a warrior. All his folk were, and many who raised him taught him varied ways to win a fight. Fair and foul. But hardly enough to be selected by a Queen to guard some mage. The comment directed at him from Maude did draw an almost bashful nod.

"Erik is a good mentor and teacher. He knows and shows more than just how to swing the hammer. He sees the soul of the steel. I have taken what I am from his teachings. And a few books... Hopefully soon I will bear my own mark. Is there more you needed of my services? They are open if you have need and trade."

Maude

 

[Maude]

Denma swore at the man in Fiirevik as he walked away but clearly she knew better than to cause a scene in the presence of the entire Council and Queen.

Without her hood to obscure her view and soot to obscure the man's face, Maude got a good look at the Smith as he stepped forward. Handsome man, if a bit rough around the edges, but Maude wasn't one for pomp and presentation. Not even the Queen wore fine robes - her apparel was the same as it had always been, save a few newly minted additions and repairs to her armor. She looked the part of a Ranger and very little else. The only thing that would have denoted her station as Queen was securely hidden beneath the many layers of leather, metal, wool, and linen.

Green eyes considered him in silence for a moment before she gestured for him to lay out her order. Not to inspect - if Denma claimed it was quality, she held no reservations - but to see if what Erik said was true. Sure enough, the arrowheads were prime and choice. The dagger she took with baited pleasure, affixing her hand on the familiar grip and studying the new blade. The weight and balance felt different, but not in a bad way.

"This is very good work," Maude remarked, "I look forward to using it once more."

Aether leaned forward, gently tapping at her arm and murmuring something to her in Fiirevik. The Queen nodded.

"Erik tells me you work with runes and are attempting to learn enchantment forging. Your hammer," she lifted a brow at it, "The High Priest would like to see it."

"If I may," Aether gestured respectfully towards the tool.

 

[Solveig Odasson]

A quick jerk pulled the hammer free of it's loop. At his touch it glowed softly, and a quick flip saw him holding the head, as he stepped to the priest, a low bow of his head. Various runes and lines connected them. Markings for strength, durability, shielding from fire, to lessen fatigue and make it feel lighter in the hand but hit harder. That last bit had been beyond his abilities almost, and he had lain abed sick for most oof two days. That had shown him his limits though. In truth, the hammer was his test piece and pride. And if it drew too much from the hammer, and it broke, it was easy enough to remake a hammer in most sense.

"The majority of my learning is tested on my hammer. It is lighter than should be. Hits harder. Flames weary the temper of the head less. And it is overall more durable. As well as bonded to me. Beginner's work, but it enables other things like that dagger to be done easier and more swiftly than others could. And it might knock sense into a thicker skull if need be... The runes for lightening and striking laid me up almost two days. So I have been more cautious now."

The haft was extended, respectfully, as he nodded his head to the priest again.

Maude

 

[Maude]

Aether took the hammer with a hand that knew the feel of the weight quite intimately. Not a hammer, per say, but the weight of a tool bonded to its owner. The man turned it over slowly, studying the craftmanship and the runes, sensing the power of the aether at work within its bindings.

"Remarkable to achieve something this complex on your own with no oversight or tutelage," the Priest replied, "there is such a shortage of Smiths in the Kingdom who know this skill. Rarer yet to find one of accomplished nature. We are limited in our scope of magic as a people, but we are not limited in the wealth of knowledge that surrounds us."

Maude eyed the hammer silently as the Priest spoke before looking back to Solveig, "What the High Priest is trying to say is we are lacking in skilled enchanters. The few who Mastered the skill have passed on. We have no one presently in the Kingdom who can teach you, however," she shifted in her seat and glanced down at the map laid out before her, "there are many in the College Elbion and the wide Summerlands who can. Would this be of interest to you?"

 

[Solveig Odasson]

For a moment, the journeyman hesitated. The cocky humor was shown a facade as his face fell into thought and care. Ever present, the light of mischief did dim in his eyes. A serious proposition had been made, even if in a casual manner. If he took it up, when he had learned what he could, it would be his responsibility to disseminate his learnings and train others. To craft heirlooms of the nation and for the champions of his people. Swords and axes that would likely be sung of in sagas long after his making. And it would not be easy, even if he had the talent Erik put faith that he did.

After a short time, he nodded quickly once, then a longer and slower nod, as if appreciating something said. His gaze rose to the Ranger who had more bearing than most any other leader he knew, and to the venerable priest last. Solveig looked to Aether and spoke, but his words were for Maude as well.

"If we truly have a lack, what man am I to not step to fill it. I only ask, someday, to be allowed to journey to Solstal. If I prove worthy in this endeavor first. I will go out to Elbion and beyond and learn, and when I have, I will return. And for the honor, should I be blessed with a child in life, they will be thegn to your child, a guard and boon companion, Dott'rhi. If you will have them and Fates allow. Gift for gift."

Maude

 

[Maude]

The Queen's gaze grew inscruitable at the Smith's words, expression having taken on the cold, stony look of the mountains they inhabited and she was so well known for.

Jorn Helle sat just a few spaces away and watched the man quite closely.

"I cannot agree to a journey that ends with Solstal. I can only agree to the terms set in place that any man or woman who proves themselves and brings great honor may gain passage to tutelage with Jorn Helle, to take of the mountain and make what they will there. That is the Path."

"That is the Path," Jorn Helle agreed quietly with a nod. Many others echoed the sentiment.

"However," the unyielding nature of her expression softened somewhat, "if all that your Master speaks of you is true, I have no doubts that you will bring great honor to yourself and your people. You are a skilled and handsome man and at the very least nominally intelligent or Erik would have tossed you out on your ass years ago." Maude offered him a short grin, those who knew of Erik chuckled.

"Seems unlikely that you would not have children. If such a child comes to be and if their own wishes are to guard my Heir I will gladly welcome them into the teachings of the great warriors who came before them."

 

[Solveig Odasson]

There was a brief nod, and a look to the mistress of that forge. It was a look both determined and full of promise. He would earn it. Never really hungered for battle. Wealth. Or fame. But from his first moments swinging a hammer, he had hungered for the secrets that seemed locked within the coals.

"I've been called handsome... But some do not like my wit. I've been lucky Suri is good setting noses. Thrice broken over a tryst. But if I have children, and they are suite and willing, it would please me to see them follow such plans. Though, if they are like me, they will wind up a baker and never learn to fight. Just from spite."

Here the wry grin for a moment. But the eyes retained a hungry cast, and a deeper meaning than humor often hid.

"I will go to Elbion or beyond and learn. To bring back the knowledge and capabilities. To make things worthy of song and saga. And to maybe see within the mountain one day. And to prevent Erik from throwing me into the water trough. Agaain. He is picky about how much ale an apprentice is allowed."

A patient hand, and a nod to Aether.

"My hammer, sir? And when would I leave?"

Maude

 

[Maude]

The Queen smirked and gave the man a nod, "That is well."

Aether chuckled and leaned to offer the hammer back, "Most exciting. Were I forty years younger I would plead to join you. I have never been to the Summerlands and I hope the tales you bring back are as engaging as the Queen's time abroad."

Helle gently cleared her throat.

"Yes, that-" Maude gestured to the Jorn, "your journey serves two-fold. You will be transporting a small amount of Solstal ore to the Foarde of Maesters at the Elbion College as part of my arrangement with them for their aid in overcoming Borvenir and retaking the throne."

Helle opened a roll of treated leather, revealing four small chunks of raw Solstal ore. In this form it held no remarkable sheen nor any evidence that it was anything other than a lump of mountain.

"I have sent a missive to them informing them of the potential student and to make arrangements and see that you are provided the information and learnings that you seek. You will travel with my party as we venture to the southern settlements to the newly discovered portal stone just a few days north of Withereach. From there you will be able to travel to another stone a few days journey outside of Elbion. They will be expecting you and they will send word once the ore has been delivered."

 

[Solveig Odasson]

Solveig eyed the aged priest, and a genuinely kind smile broke across his features.

"I will seek you out, and try my best to play Skjald for you."

For a moment he hesitated, eyeing Helle and the Queen as Maude spoke further. Then he nodded, absoring the request. Some might feel as if they were being an errand boy. In fact, he was. But the trust of having the raw ore in his charge, and delivering it for study... It spoke of a good honor and beginning. So he answered with as much appreciation as could be mustered.

"I will journey with you to the stone. And take the ore further, to Elbion. I will learn all my skill and their College can teach. And see what knowledge can be gleaned from the various traders and tradesman such a place is bound to collect. And perhaps even return to teach Erik a few tricks when I return."

Maude

 

[Maude]

"Good," Maude answered, a sentiment that seemed to be shared by Aether and Helle as well, "we leave tomorrow at second bell. You will meet the party at the Broken Antler Tavern one hour before."

Helle wrapped up the ore before placing it into a leather satchel and sealing it snugly. She stood from her seat, deferring to Maude before rounding the table and approaching Solveig in person. Helle was not a terribly tall woman - in fact she was quite diminutive for a Norden - but she more than made up for her lack of height with a powerful presence. If one didn't know any better they might've mistaken her for the Queen of all Nordengaard.

["This is precious to us,"] Helle said to him in Fiirevik, ["it represents the honor and power we hold true in our blood, in our soul. Know this on your journey and what you represent of your people, what your journey can mean for them as well as yourself. This is the Path."]

["This is the Path."] echoed those in attendance.