[centre][img]http://i.imgur.com/cxeGXtL.png[/img]
[i]When you stare into the misty night and into the blizzard, do you think it does not also stare into you?[/i][/centre]

[hider=Summary]
[list]
[*] Sjorndalrheim is pronounced John-dal-eim (ei pronounced 'I')
[*] Introducing Chief Thormar Wrolfin of the Sjorndalrheim Wrolfin
[*] Thormar stands staring into the blizzard, atop a hill, with the village of Sjorndalrheim behind him
[*] The Wrolfin tribe, with it's various villages, is introduced and a brief flashback details the last visit Thormar had to Hevbyskton, whose fishing fleet is being constantly raided by Gnanrir raiders
[*] Thormar thinks back to the disappearances which have been happening recently, and he believes there are creatures taking his people
[*] He walks back home and realises he is being followed, only to find it is little Inreki
[*] He picks her up and walks on and notes once more that they are being followed
[*] He faces off against Ghoul Lord Akenaten and a minion of his, but manages to step into his home, preventing the Ghoul Lord from doing him any harm
[*] The Ghoul Lord warns Thormar, telling him that his enemies is the Great Lich Lord, and that he and his village would all be in his grasp soon
[/list]
[/hider]

The old man stood atop the hill, leaning on his long wooden staff, staring out through the falling snow across the wide expanse of endless white. The heavens were a single coat of never-ending white and it was as though the very clouds had settled down upon the Sviebardian ground. The hill overlooked the vast plains of snow beyond, dotted with the odd tree here and there, before the plain gave way to snow-covered forests. The high vantage-point did not give the old man much ability to see what was actually on the snowy plains, however. The falling snow and the cold mist prevented one from seeing what was beyond the foot of the hill. He just liked to stand there and let his mind wander into those mists and blizzards beyond. Even from his youngest days he had done so, there was something rather grand about it all and only when he let his mind and eyes soar into the unseen could he even begin to comprehend.

Behind him stood a large village of Sjorndalrheim. Within it were many large homes of stone and timber, with chimneys smoking. The wooden holes for windows were sealed off against the evening cold and the sounds of those within did not reach the old man where he stood. People had lived here for a long time and the village was among the largest of the Wrolfin tribe's settlements, hosting nearly six hundred Wrolfin. Only the Wrolfin port-village of Hevbyskton towards the south was larger, holding nearly nine hundred tribals. To the west was the small village of Zarnbdheim with three hundred tribals and just north of Sjorndalrheim was Krongrdin, by far the closest, with one hundred tribals.
There were also two or three other villages with populations ranging from fifty to eighty tribals each towards the east, and those were also quite close. 

The Wrolfin often traded with other Sviebardian tribes, but the tribe tended to lean more towards its own, with the majority of trade going to and from Sjorndalrheim and Hevbyskton. Timber and metal was sent down to the port village, along with furs and meats, while all kinds of fish were sent up from the the port. The old man had been at Hevbyskton not a week before where he had been greeted heartily by Chief Olafson of the Hevbyskton Wrolfin.

'Thormar, you old snow dog!' he had roared as they embraced, 'where by the clouds o' ice have ya been man?' they had walked down to the sands by the sea and walked for long, updating each other on the situation in their respective villages. Chief Thormar had been elected Chief of the Sjorndalrheim Wrolfin by the Wrolfin Council nearly thirty five years ago, when the man was nothing but a thirty year old, long before Olafson had been elected. Sjorndalrheim had certainly grown greatly under his leadership and among the Wrolfin there was none more respected than he. Chief Olafson told him about the ongoing problem with raids on their fishing fleet from the nearby Gnanrir Tribe and asked for his view on the matter.

The issue had been going on for over a year now and the Gnanrir seemed either unable or unwilling to stop their raiders, despite assuring Chief Olafson on various occasions that the raids would stop. Something would have to be done. Thormar recommended that fishing fleets travel in larger groups, that would seem more of a threat to any raiders. He also recommended that they work on their ship designs. The current ones were small fishing ships, if they could be made larger and more seaworthy, that would mean that more fish could be hauled and the ships could more easily escape raiders - or even raid, if it came to that.
'Just make sure that whatever happens, you deal with the situation delicately and without your hot-headedness. We don't need an escalation into something more serious,' and Olafson agreed, promising to see to Thormar's recommendations. The northern chief remained in Hevbyskton for a good few days before returning home with the caravan, taking a good deal of fish back up with them. It was rather unfortunate that rivers were frozen pretty much all year round, otherwise sailing the many rivers from village to village would have made travel much easier and quicker.

If the lands of Wrolfin could be described as anything at all, Thormar would have described them as peaceful - even with the raids on Hevbyskton by the pesky Gnanrir. But now the people were afraid; their loved ones had been disappearing.
At first it was just Fargan and Krisov. The two men went out to the forest to bring back some wood and did not return, and the search party, made up of five men, had gone out and not come back. Thormar had sent out one of his more skilled hunters, Sagnar, and the man had come back barely alive, before he mysteriously disappeared during that same night.
Now even those who wondered the village during the night found themselves disappearing - Irena's husband Kahalgar had gone out to visit his brother two nights back and had not been seen again after that. In total, seventeen men and four women had disappeared, and he had gotten word from the nearby villages that they too had these strange disappearances happen.

If it were not for Sagnar's return and disappearance, Thormar would have been rather lost for ideas as to what could be the cause. But he knew, after seeing the marks and bites on Sagnar, that something was hunting them. Perhaps it was not one thing, perhaps there were more. He did not know what exactly the creature - or creatures - wanted, but he knew he had to protect his villagers. He would have a large group of hunters - two hundred - set out for the forest in the morning. They would cut down trees and bring them back in order to build a wall around the village, that should, hopefully, keep whatever creatures were hunting them out.

Turning around, he made his way back home. For now he needed to rest, and the morning would be a different matter. As he walked, he noted - with calmness that surprised him - that he was being tailed. Without batting an eye or speeding his rather slow pace, he continued on to his home. Only when something touched his leg did he stop and look.
There was a hand on his leg. He looked further up the arm until his eyes met those of the owner. A little, blonde girl stared back up at him.
'What are you doing here, Inkeri? Did I not warn you about walking around on your own? Especially at night,' he scolded the little girl before picking her up in one arm and walking on.
'I saw you through the window, granpapa,' she said. He was not her grandfather, of course, it was just a term of affection, 'and I got scared for you. So I followed you out to make sure that the Ice Wolf doesn't get you. Mamma said that the Ice Wolf took papa because he was a naughty man and went out after dark, so I didn't want him to get you too granpapa,' her cheeks were red from the cold and her chatter was quite a nice change from his solemn thoughts. She was Irena and Kahalgar's eldest daughter, the two had been blessed with another child, a boy, not a week back. They had not named him, but after her husband's disappearance, Irena had named the child after his father.
'Your mother will die of worry when she finds out you are not home,' he informed her, but she assured him that her mother had been asleep with little Kahalgar when she went after Thormar. As she spoke, the Chief noted once more, with ice-cold calm, that they were being followed. He knew with certainty what it was this time. Like before, he kept up his slow pace and did not turn towards his home immediately when he saw it. He remained in the middle of the small path and kept his focus on the presence behind him. It was, strangely enough, a relief that Inkeri had not noticed and was still chattering away. It came as a surprise to the little girl, then, when Thormar suddenly ducked and a huge figure passed over them. Without pause, the Chief turned and dashed towards the door of his home, only to find it locked. His fist banged against the door even as Inreki screamed.

Holding onto his staff, he turned to face whatever monstrosity there was in the street. The darkness and snow obscured his sight at first, but then his eyes focused on a dark figure slowly emerging from the mist. As it came into full view, the jaw of the steel-nerved Chief slackened slightly. The creature was horrific. It was like nothing he had ever seen before, bent over forward with jaw wide open and prepared to take a bite out of its victim, arms grotesquely long and a strange dark aura surrounding it. From the shadows there walked another. This one more humanoid, but still undeniably like the other.
'We have come for you,' the humanoid one said, 'we have come for you all.'

Inreki gave out another heart-rending scream and all over the village doors began to open and armed villagers, though still sleepy, began to poke their heads out to see what was going on. Behind Thormar the door of his own home was unlocked and thrown open. Inreki jumped into the arms of the old woman who had opened the door.
'Granmama!' she cried, her sobs echoing in the night.

'What are you?' Thormar asked, horror in his voice as he backed away into his home. The being let off an annoyed sound as Thormar stepped beyond the threshold and entered the house.
'We are death,' the creature said, 'but to honour you all, I will allow you to know who we are and what is to become of you,' backing off into the shadows, both figures disappeared and a disembodied voice said.
'I am Akenaten, the Ghoul Lord. You shall soon be mine; the Great Lich Lord will have you,' and with that, their presences disappeared completely and Thormar was left to stare into the darkness with grim silence.

He would need to deal with this in the morning, and oh how near and how far the morning was!