Private Tales Further on up the Road

[Arnor Skuldsson]

Sittekar, Eretejva Tundra
​

There weren't many things that weren't there before, that came and went unnoticed by the Nordenfiir.

Especially a white-haired Monster Hunter riding in on a ship, apparently looking for work, adventure, and something else. So said the rumors, at least. The three-eyed ravens relayed from ship to sea told most of the arrival of who was who onboard, and what they were carrying. The news of a passenger visiting the Tundra was rare enough, especially one described such as this.

But luckily, it was the kind of person that Arnor was looking for. He watched as the ship approached, and was pulled by great ropes by dockhands. Arnor's eyes darted around the port, waiting for the Monster Hunter. Then, he saw him. White hair, swords and all. One smelled more metallic than the other, even in the wind. Silver. Like his. Prepared for the worst.

Arnor cocked his head, watching him disembark. He couldn't tell if he was seasick from this distance- or that was just the face he typically wore. He followed him for a while, not exactly making it a point to be subtle about it- before the Monster Hunter made a sharp turn into a Tavern. The Tavern went dead silent- before Arnor entered behind him, hand on his shoulder.

A few words spoken in Fiirevik, and the Norden dockhands, shieldbearers and hunters went back to their business. Arnor gently guided the Monster Hunter to the bar, before speaking quietly in the common tongue.

"Picked a hell of a time to come here, friend."

Arnor ordered two drinks, although himself not a particularly big fan of drinking to begin with- at least, crude things such as ale.

"Rumor mill has it you're a Monster Hunter."

 

[Thane Jackdaw]

Times were changing.

Hazardous new portals opening randomly across all of Liadain. Forgotten civilizations appearing from the depths of the wold. A monster hunter's first rule was to adapt, to survive. It prevailed all other rules, even that which described their essence - slaying monsters.

Had he not been a strict follower of that first rule, he would've been long dead.

Had he not been a strict follower of that first rule, he wouldn't have ventured to the Eretejva Tundra.

Embarking on a voyage aboard a ship manned by a crew of silent Nordenfiiri. They evaded him and so did he. There weren't known for their friendliness but so wasn't the hunter. He liked it that way; no odd questions of "why go to the Tundra?", "what business do you have there?". If they had any remarks about him, they were uttered in their own language which he did not comprehend.

The closer they were to home, the more social did the seemingly mute crew seem between each other. Without even a mere nod of a farewell between each other, Thane adjusted the furs over his light leather armor and disembarked.

He looked around the dock and noticed the glances thrown at him by the locals. It was safe to say the natives of the Tundra hardly expected foreign visitors, much less welcome them. Going by his knowledge of the Nordenfiiri, he reckoned they had known of his arrival much prior than him making his first step on their land. Were they less vigilant, humans would've long colonized their lands and sold their hides as commodities.

The monster hunter walked on. His own sharp perception sensed that he was being tracked. For what hunter was he if he couldn't spot something hunting him. A wide-shouldered man, perhaps just a bit taller than him which made him far easier to discern. He jerked abruptly into the entrance of a tavern escaping the pursuer; or so he thought.

A hand fell on his shoulder even before the door had closed. Fast. He couldn't draw his sword but the hand not holding his belongings in a large rucksack instinctively fell on the handle of his barely visible dagger. The one he used for decapitating monster heads as trophies for a job well done. His pursuer muttered a few words to the rousing crowd of patrons soothing their tempers and pushed him onward to the bar. No ill intentions. Yet.

"Picked a hell of a time to come here, friend. Rumor mill has it you're a Monster Hunter."

Thane side eyed the man neutrally and put both of his hands on the table casually - an act implying his intentions.

"Not here for trouble." the monster hunter stated tonelessly and flashed a glance at the tables. Eyes were carefully observing them. "Point me to your blacksmith and I will be gone before you've had your drink."

Arnor Skuldsson

 

[Arnor Skuldsson]

A Blacksmith? Here?

Arnor cocked his head. There were plenty on the Summer Lands, and even some in Belgrath that far exceeded what any of the craftsman here could muster. Arnor's facial features shifted as he thought, then came a sense of clarity that brought a smile to the man.

"You're here for the steel, aren't you? Our legendary steel, that is." Arnor leaned on the bar, giving him a knowing look.

He gave him a mischievous grin, picking up his drink. He inclined it at him, smirking nearly ear to ear.

"Oh, I'll point you right to the Frozen Halls. I even know the Queen. I'm sure she'll be delighted to have a Monster Hunter walk right into her halls- and I'm sure they'll be glad to fashion you whatever you need."

 

[Thane Jackdaw]

Thane did not reply immediately, instead carefully observing the man's facial features. At first, naively, he believed what the man said but then experience kicked in and Thane dryly said.

"I see. Favor for favor." Thane paused. "Fine, what do you have me do?"

Arnor Skuldsson

 

[Arnor Skuldsson]

Arnor took another drink, then cocked his head. He wasn't getting it.

"You don't know how things work around here-" He leaned forward, so the leering eyes of the other Norden in the room would go unnoticed. "Your coin, your reputation, won't get you into that forge. Won't get you what you want. Only the greatest, with the blessing of the one on the throne, get into that forge-" He leaned back, looking to the wall. He tapped the bar, thinking for a while.

"I can help you get what you seek, however. My name is Arnor, son of Skuld."

 

[Thane Jackdaw]

It was true, Thane vaguely knew of Nordenfiiri society and traditions. Probably more than the average Jack but definitely not enough. He never needed to until now.

"Thane Jackdaw." the monster hunter introduced himself and cleared his throat. "So, Arnor, son of Skuld, what can we do to bestow us the Queen the blessing to enter the forge?"

The chatter in the inn lost a few bars of volume.

Arnor Skuldsson

 

[Arnor Skuldsson]

Arnor smiled for a long moment, thinking of the Queen.

"Oh, you and I? Not much. Me? Maybe. But I think I already know what you're here for."

He took another drink.

"Just Arnor is fine, by the way." He said with a wry, mischievous grin. He seemed to be enjoying the whole runaround with him.

 

[Thane Jackdaw]

He wasn't impatient as a child, nor was he as patient as a sage.

He did not reply.

 

[Arnor Skuldsson]

Arnor frowned. This one seemed uptight.

He set his drink down, fixing his hair. "But I can get you a sword you'd be interested in. On a few conditions." He tapped the side of his mug, smirking at the white haired mutant.

 

[Thane Jackdaw]

The monster hunter finally took a sip from the ale. Strong. Better than tea for a cold.

Finally, the useless circling around the conversation was coming to an end.

"I am listening."

 

[Arnor Skuldsson]

He suspected he was listening the whole time, but he didn't want to comment on it further.

"I know where a sword made of the steel you seek is kept. Therein, however, lies a problem that which must be solved in order to obtain it."
Arnor had a way with words, for certain. He was well spoken, for a Nordenfiir.

 

[Thane Jackdaw]

"I bet there's a monster I will have to kill to get it." Thane said sarcastically and leaned back crossing his arms.

A classic fairy tale.

 

[Arnor Skuldsson]

Arnor stood silent for a while, running his finger along the brim of his mug.

"That part I'm not entirely sure of. But from what I can gather, yes, that seens likely." He looked over the Hunter, before his eyes flicked back upwards to meet his.

"The sword will bend and cut through most things you can find on the Summer Lands. Even more so the beasts. But it isn't silver. But, when and if you get it- there is a condition that must be met."

 

[Thane Jackdaw]

"I don't need silver." he said flashing a glance at the luggage he carried next to him. Within it there was a black cloth wrapping a silver sword.

"And what that condition might be?"

 

[Arnor Skuldsson]

He looked over at his sword. Newer, better quality than his. Probably cared for better.

He turned away from him, watching the tavern. "That the sword never returns to the Tundra ever again." He said dryly.

"It has a rather negative history with me, you see."

 

[Thane Jackdaw]

Venturing to the Tundra now was his first time and probably his last. Not returning here did not sound extremely hard in his case.

"What negative history?" of course, there had to be an obstacle before the culminate obstacle.

 

[Arnor Skuldsson]

"The kind that people for hire don't get to know about until later."

Especially drifters with a penchant for mercenary work. He finished off his ale, sliding it back towards the tavern wench.

"So I assume you'll take the job, then."

He said with a wry, knowing grin.

 

[Thane Jackdaw]

"Hmm." he grumbled before he stood up from the bar and pushed the mug aside, still half-full.

"I'll take the job."

 

[Arnor Skuldsson]

"I figured you would." He clapped him on the back, careful not to do it too hard. Even though he was sure that the yellow-eyed hunter could take it. He started to make for the door, before stopping.

"Did you travel with a horse, by chance?" He knew the most likely answer was no- and by the grin on Arnor's face, he had a very amusing answer if he said no.

 

[Thane Jackdaw]

He tossed the rucksack over his shoulder and took to leaving the gossiping tavern. The man's paw clapped him on the back, and despite of the hunter's enhanced sturdiness he could easily deduce Arnor, son of Skuld, was stronger than he looked. And he looked pretty strong.

"No." Thane replied and adjusted the furs over his leather armor. Cold was an understatement.

 

[Arnor Skuldsson]

Arnor motioned for him to follow, and whistled sharply.

Along came Arnor's horse, Rhi. Rhi, of course, was an alcoholic horse, and quite ornery. He didn't like the local brews and wines, not sweet enough for his tastes.

But Rhi was a large horse- huge, some would say. Supported the big man just fine. He saddled up, throwing his legs over. He smiled down at Thane.

"Would you rather sit in front or behind me?" He said with a grin, obviously going to be getting a kick out of this.

 

[Thane Jackdaw]

Thane looked around for any other semblance of a mount he could use. Nothing.

He mounted up on the rear of the horse and grumbled.

"Just go."

Cocksucker.

 

[Arnor Skuldsson]

The two trotted off, with a triumphantly smirking Arnor grinning nearly ear-to-ear. The wind whipped at them, biting into the two. Arnor seemed to fair better than his white-haired compatriot, however.

They had a ways to go, so, after quite some riding, Arnor finally spoke, feeling the Monster Hunter shiver on his horse.

"Why'd you come for the steel?"

 

[Thane Jackdaw]

Didn't look like the weather could get better. Only worse. He adjusted the thick fur of a cloak he wore on his back.

"It's superior." Thane replied laconically.

 

[Arnor Skuldsson]

"To what end?"

He asked of the men. He was introspective in thought, and it reflected in his questions. He had been asking himself the same question for quite some time, and he felt it was fair to ask why a man traveled so far for steel.

Money and fame were cop out answers. He'd pry open the stranger, at the end of this.