Looking into the distance, Bjorn is joined by Styr. Looking to his left, he can see the sunset glimmer off of his almond shaped amber eyes, highlighting the beauty mark that lies by his lips.
"Out here together, it seems like the ocean has no end, doesn't it Bjorn?"
"It sure does. Makes one wonder if that's how the forefather Odin intended to make it, or if it just came to be as he ascended back to Asgard."
"With how large these waters span, the legends about the Kraken and Jormungandr might actually be true. Well, I've bothered you enough I'd better work on the helm with Ormr."
"Yeah, you do that, I'll be out front here."
Alone again with Gunnar, Bjorn takes watch for the front. With the sun setting into place, there isn't going to be much steering away from the helm or need for a watch. Still, Gunnar remains there with Bjorn, neither moving from their spot.
"Why'd you two decide to set sail so late?"
"Don't underestimate the captain's eyes, Bjorn. Even with the sun going down, moon light's more than enough for Ormr. We would've left earlier but all's you's was in the mess hall. Buncha good for nothing vikings you are."
"Still, why are you still out here? Shouldn't you be by Ormr?"
"Don't need to. The ocean's all clear from here, I just want to be out front for a while longer. Before you ask, I'll be joining the crew later, so get your lazy ass and go to work."
Joining the other helmsman, Bjorn pushes and pulls on his oar. Hearing the heave's and hoo's accompanied by the sloshing sea water making its way onto the deck, Bjorn works harder at moving the oars, now putting his back into it. The other vikings, still grunting and shouting as they propel the ship forward, are now accompanied by Gunnar. Grabbing an idle oar, he tosses it aside and goes to the midship. Coming back out with a massive paddle, he sets himself into place and begins to row the oar, which causes the ship to lean one side more than the other. The force of Gunnar rowing the boat can be felt on both sides as Bjorn and many other crewmates violently slip and fall on both sides. Seeing this, Ormr begins to shout orders at his crew.
"C'mon you good for nothing bums! Are you going to let a single man outwork the rest of you!? Put everything you got into moving this ship out to Hargagastad we got some money to make!"
As everyone continues to push the oars, the opposite side can finally keep up with Gunnar's freakish pace. Bjorn continues to row, while Styr accompanies Ormr. Everyone on board continues to work hard. Unsure of how long they're going to need to row, those climbing up the mast struggle to unfurl the ship's sails. Seeing this, Bjorn imagines him and the other helmsman are going to have to row the oars for a bit longer since the boat isn't moving fast enough anyways.
Finally, the sails come down, but Bjorn and the others still have to continue to row until Ormr makes his call. Bjorn falls in and out of sleep as he struggles to move the oars at Gunnar's pace. Finally, reaching optimal speed, Ormr calls time.
"Alright men, that's enough! Head back inside, we won't reach Hargagastad until I say so!"
Dragging himself up, Bjorn stands and heads back to the barracks. Seeing his hammock sway left and right, he grabs a hold of it and hops in, falling asleep. This time however he doesn't recall what he dreamt about. Instead of being welcomed by a flashback to his past, his mind goes numb.
As everyone else sleeps inside the barracks, Styr is one of three that remained on deck, the other 2 being Gunnar and Ormr.
Styr, alone with Ormr at the helm, begins to casually talk with him.
"Hey, Ormr. Remember when Bjorn joined us 4 years ago?"
"Of course I remember. Why, does this have to do with me putting him in his place?"
"No, it's nothing to do with that. It's just that I wasn't there with you and everyone else, so I never understood why you took him with us."
"Well....., he was just a kid, but if you saw his eyes, they were those of a man. I don't know if anyone ever told you this, but Bjorn wasn't kin to the Is nobles we raided that day. He was a slave."
"Wait, what?"
"That's right. The kid was a slave for who knows how long. Originally, one of my men was going to put the kid out of his misery, but when I looked at his face, he didn't show fear, didn't even flinch when he drew his sword to his face. He accepted his fate, so seeing a young kid with such a resolve, I gave him a choice. He could have died a slave, or as a viking."
"Isn't much of a choice if he really was a slave."
"Had I just left him there, Bjorn would've gone back to being a slave, being auctioned off as nothing more than merchandise. Without me, that's all he would ever be. If that's all then tell me why you wanted to know the reason I recruited the boy."
"No reason in particular. I just see him differently, although it's just a little bit."
"The boy's just upset we killed those townspeople. If you sympathize with him too much, this won't be the last time he bitches at me."
"I'm guessing you're still angry at him for calling you our."
"Of course I am. The kid was a slave. He should be more grateful, considering he was nothing but peasant trash when I found him."
Hearing those harsh words from Ormr regarding his friend, he tightly clenches his fist in anger, then opens his hand up. Despite how important Bjorn is to the crew, its plain as day to see how little he matters to Ormr.
"So what day do you think we're going to raid that Alfr fort?"
"Soon. They have mages. The Alfr have a natural affinity to nature and light, so we should be ok as long as you remember what happened last time we fought those Ljos magi."
"I'll make sure to use that, when the day comes."
"I'll be sure to use my trick as well when we raid Fort Fyrkat. When we get there, take Bjorn with you. I'll explain the rest when we arrive on land."
The next 3 days are especially slow as the Veinaaegir slowly navigates the ocean. The winds roar as the ship continues to run it's course. Asleep for almost an entire day, Bjorn wakes up to see his axe at his side. He picks it up, examining it closer. Bjorn sees the same dents the day before, but by the corner of the blade's butt, there's an inscription.
I KNOW NOT MY TRIALS ON THE PATH AHEAD, BUT ALL WILL RETURN TO ODIN WITHIN THE HALLS OF ASGARD AS WILL I ONCE I DIE
Reading the writings on the axe, memories of his mother flow into his mind. His deep purple eyes reflect off the dull blue hue of the axe before his stomach beckons him. Unable to ignore it's heed, Bjorn heads once again to the mess hall. Filled with men singing songs of riches, fights and women, Bjorn takes his same spot near the end of the room.
As most of the vikings aboard are excited to head into the next raid, Bjorn's eyes are held down with visible bags, signifying his exhaustion. As he looks into his mug, he sees his dead expression staring back at him. Before he does anything else, Styr jumps into the spot adjacent to Bjorn.
"You weren't going to eat without me Bjorn right?"
"I'm too tired and too hungry to be waiting for you every time I gotta eat."
"Nguh! You're breaking my heart Bjorn."
"How long have I been sleeping? Are we near Fort Fyrkat yet?"
"Not at all Bjorn, I think we got a day and a half or something."
"I see."
After they finish talking, Bjorn continues to look into his mug. Having been concerned for a while regarding Bjorn's state of mind, Styr stares at Bjorn for a bit before heading out.
"Well, glad I could catch up with you. Need anything, just scream my name at the top of your lungs. Always works when Gunnar needs to whip me into shape."
"Was planning to either way. See you Styr."
As the two part ways, Bjorn heads to the lowest level of the ship. Walking and making his way down, Bjorn passes a few vikings by, no one paying any attention to him as he passes by. Alone, he takes his axe out and practices a few swings. Viciously waving his weapon around to adjust to using a different weapon, he grabs a few things laying around to use as practice dummies. Taking out a large sack filled with wood chips and an empty crate, he separates himself 7meter's away. Chucking the axe across the room like a branch, it strikes the sack with great accuracy, opening it up as it leaks out wood chips.
"That wasn't bad at all huh. At least I can hit the mark pretty well."
At the top of the deck, Gunnar and Styr are both by the mainmast.
"You sure you're up for this, Styr? You came back hurt from the last bounty."
As soon as Gunnar finished, Styr takes his chest plate and shirt off, revealing some severe bruising on his abs and chest, accompanied by some vicious cuts on his back that look as if he was whipped by a slaver's bullstail.
"What, this? This is nothing. Gimme everything you got, and don't hold back on me Gunnar. If I can't continue to fight after facing those elf mages, then I don't deserve to be here."
Unlike the time he spent at the mess hall with Bjorn, there is no playfulness in Styr's demeanor any longer. A strong conviction can be seen within his eyes, his face displaying nothing but sheer grit, intent to kill.
He is among a select few people that is seen as an equal by both Gunnar and Ormr in terms of combat ability. Before the two started the crew, they both used to be a part of Mountgaardens armies, as was Styr. Renowned for their prowess, both Gunnar and Ormr were high ranking captains who were known as: Ormr "Mage Killer," Ragnar and Gunnar "Troll's Bane," Floki. Their names alone speak for themselves. As for Styr, he held the title of 'Flash,' as a lieutenant under Gunnar.
As Styr unsheathes his blade, Gunnar takes out his waraxe. Almost as big as Styr, no one but Gunnar would be able to use the otherwise unwieldy waraxe. Although it's an axe, the awkward thickness of the blade makes it seem like a greathammer, a hunk of steel. Wielding it in one hand as Styr mirrors Gunnar holding his blade on his left. They briefly stare down before charging at each other, with frightening speed.
Swiftly weaving through Gunnars heavy strikes, Styr attempts to find an opening to accurately parry the 7 foot giant, but it wasn't sheer strength alone that granted Gunnar the title of captain. As Styr sidesteps and rolls opposite the way the war axe flows, Gunnar pivots and shifts to the direction that Styr moves in. The strikes of their weapons colliding sounds like waves of lightning and thunder crashing into the ever-thrashing water of the ocean.
As they exchange strikes and blows, Styr manages to roll underneath an otherwise fatal blow and slices Gunnars calf clean. Stumbling and struggling to stand, a furious flurry of cuts ensues, slicing up the giant that is Gunnar. Yet as he gets hacked and slashed, Gunnar remains composed, unfazed. One of those cuts nearly gets him in his one good eye, but fortunately Gunnar moves his head and Styr only cuts a lock of his blonde hair.
The cuts Gunnar received on Styr's part aren't deep enough to cause any actual damage, speaking volume on the vice captain's durability. Taking about 30 or so strikes as he was dropped on one knee and only releasing a pints worth of blood, vikings and soldiers do not get any tougher than Gunnar. Sweeping the other end of his axe to knock Styr down, he raises it up as Styr falls to cleave him in two. He doesn't remain grounded for long and right as Gunnar waves his axe upwards, Styr leaps backwards to avoid the hit. The force of Gunnar slamming his weapon down on the deck cracks the floorboards beneath, had he put his whole back into it however, the whole deck would have collapsed from the sheer pressure he would've exerted.
Standing back up firmer than before, Gunnar continues his assault on the lieutenant. Much of what happened at the beginning of the spar continues, but now Styr has to respect Gunnar's strength and hardiness. Dropping his axe and going all in barehanded, Gunnar now blocks Styr's sword style with his vambraces and although this change in offense is dangerous for Gunnar, he's now much faster and is now on par with Styr in terms of speed. As Styr continues to work on Gunnar's body with his sword, Gunnar laughs maniacally as he's continuing to be gashed by Styr.
Unable to pass Gunnars guard, Styr's sword is sent out of his hand after Gunnar manages to catch him and slap it off his grip. Surprised by how quick Gunnar disarmed him, he's then caught flush by a nasty kick to his gut. Cracks can be heard and as Styr is sent flying back from the force of the impact, he catches himself before the impact, flipping himself midair then landing with both hands and feet on the ground. After he sticks the landing with acute precision, he coughs out some spit and blood.
"You really are one tough sonofabitch Styr." Gunnar says as Styr wipes the blood off his mouth and stands back up on both feet as if nothing had happened.
"I've gotta be when you're my competition." Styr's bruising has now turned to a violet, dark blue.
"Haha! Never a dull moment with you Styr, even when you're half dead."
"Never has been a dull moment, not since we crossed paths 11 years ago."
"As much as I'd like to continue, you gotta get patched up."
"I'll be fine, trust me."
"Pfft. Take some time to rest, I'll get some of the dumbasses below to make some medicine, maybe some poultices too if there's some left over."
"Doubt any poultices are left, so how long do you want me to rest?"
"Until that bruising goes away, as well as whatever the hell's going on with your back."
"Alright then, this spar doesn't count though."
"Ha, you'd have already written down a win if I were the injured one. I won this one, but we will have a rematch." Having heard that, Styr smiles, and has this to say.
"Just know that neither you or Ormr have ever won an easy fight against me. Be prepared for next time."
"Yeah, yeah, go to the barracks and sleep already. There should be available treatment for you by the time you wake up."
Finishing their interaction there, Styr takes the rest of his clothes off, leaving nothing but a loose pear of loins that run long enough to cover his privates. Going to his bunk, just about everyone is asleep but Bjorn.
"Hey Styr, where wer- hey what the, fuck happened to you man? Did someone mug you and force you to walk around like a bit- oh shit, when the hell did that happen?"
Seeing Bjorn stutter and stumble over his words like that, Styr can't help but laugh at him as he struggles to work together a sentence.
"Wait, you're laughing? That looks nasty man you need someone to heal you like right now."
"Oh god Bjorn, if only you could see yourself now."
"Styr seriously though are you, stop laughing man! I'm worried, I haven't seen anyone walk around as hurt as you are now."
"Well, thanks for the concern, but this was far worse when I came back at first. Gunnar told me he'll have some meds for me by noon, so don't stress over it ok?"
"If you say you're ok, then alright. But where'd you get beat up so bad?"
"Well, when you went out to aid that one militia to kill those Alfr officers, I was with Ormr a while back to kill some Ljos mages. I wouldn't have been as hurt had I prepared more, but since we're probably going to go up against some Ljos again, learn from my mistakes."
"Light mages did that to you?"
"Like I said, learn from my mistakes. No mage, regardless of affinity, should ever be underestimated."
"Hopefully Gunnar can get you treated tomorrow then. Other than that, night brother."
"Yeah, goodnight Styr."
Hopping into his hammock, Styr puts his hands behind his head and closes his eyes. Still awake, he looks up and down to see everyone else asleep. Scratching his head, he only has one thing on his mind.
"This isn't enough, I've gotta get back to training again."
Closing his eyes again, he falls asleep on the second attempt.