Ketill occupied himself with chores that were normally Najla’s – cooking, light cleaning, things that according to his eye had not been done for a while. However, even if Najla had tried, it was entirely likely that Ketill still wouldn’t have been satisfied. He was in the middle of cleaning out the pot used for cooking by melting snow in it, so that the water could clean out the remnants of whatever Najla had attempted to create in it, when Basim entered again. In his hands was a stack of wood, which he placed down on the larger stack of firewood that they’d been storing for a while now. [i]‘’Najla!’’[/i] Basim yelled out when he entered, looking for his sister, perhaps to tell her something. After peeking around inside the house, he turned to Ketill. [i]‘’Did you send her out?’’[/i] His remark caused Ketill to sigh. [i]‘’You could say that.’’[/i] [i]‘’What do you mean?’’[/i] [i]‘’She couldn’t hold her tongue, so I told her she could leave. She’s out there somewhere.’’[/i] [i]‘’W-what? It’s freezing cold out there!’’[/i] [i]‘’I know. She knew that before she insulted me too. It didn’t stop her, did it?’’[/i] [i]‘’You can’t- you can’t do something like that!’’[/i] Ketill slowly rose from his squatted position, leaving the pot on the ground. The annoyance and anger was visible in his eyes, and Basim slowly backed away a little bit until he felt the door against his back. [i]‘’This is my property now. I can do whatever I want. The rules here aren’t like in the sultanate,’’[/i] he calmly stated, staring Basim down. It would perhaps be the first time Basim felt Ketill’s anger turned towards himself and not Najla. [i]‘’There are different rules here. [b]My[/b] rules.’’[/i] He stood silently for a moment then squatted down again, returning to his work, rinsing the pot. He continued, talking slightly more silently as if he’d calmed down, but Basim knew better. [i]‘’Everyone pulls their weight or they get left behind. That is the reality. I can’t afford to feed three people if only two of us are working. She’s dead weight. Spoiled by a life as a princess, and as a result, has no use in a land like this. You were there, you know I’ve given her plenty of chances to learn like you have. But you can’t teach someone that doesn’t want to learn.’’[/i] Basim hesitated for a moment, his mind trying to determine whether he should be loyal to his family or his own survival. He knew that going out there with Najla was a pointless endeavour no matter how much he felt attached to his own sister. However, in the eyes of God… the answer was clear. [i]‘’Fine,’’[/i] he replied, suddenly much colder than how Basim had usually spoken to Ketill. Before Ketill could even look up, the boy had gone back through the door and gone outside to search for his sister. [hr] It would be at the very least an hour, and perhaps closer to two hours before Basim returned. Except, this time, he’d brought someone with him. The knock on the door alarmed Ketill to their presence, and he was quick to open up, barring them from entering by standing in the doorway. The irony was funny to him – she called him a dog, but now she had come crawling back like a wounded dog with her tail between her legs. He didn’t show his amusement however, finding that there was a different thing he needed to show her. Perhaps it was because of his short stature, but Ketill barely took note of Basim taking up a defensive position before Najla. It wouldn’t have mattered – Ketill had no intention of ruining the prophecies he’d seen in his visions by killing Najla himself, and even if he had, Basim was quite possibly the smallest obstacle to doing so. A single punch to the side of the head would be likely to put the boy out of commission when it came from someone like Ketill. When Najla urged Basim inside, Ketill didn’t block him, but when Basim was inside, Ketill would close the door. Now he stood before Najla, waiting for her to speak. He didn’t interrupt or even say anything back – there was nothing he could say, and nothing he felt like saying. Her promise to pull her weight was meaningless, but Ketill was not beyond offering her a second chance now that she had seen what kind of effort it took to survive here. The fact that, up until now, Ketill and Basim had shared the burden of feeding Najla was coming to an end and she’d have to do something to offer them, or at least Ketill, a reason to give her anything. Her remarks about his threat, however, earned a grunt from him. [i]‘’If it gets that far, you won’t have anything to say in the matter anymore. You’d do well to remember that. To grant you a favour at that point would be like you granting me a favour when you were still a Sultana.’’[/i] The way he said it, ‘when you were still a sultana’, was almost certainly meant to remind her that she was no longer anything worth anything in the cold north. Any value she had now was purely derived from her being exotic and a woman. All she was was that, and her prestige was now tied to that of Ketill. [i]‘’There is no point to it.’’[/i] So he concluded. However, before he’d allow her back inside, he’d grab her arm and look her in the eyes, offering her some sort of warning. [i]‘’Do not test me. In Broacien and the Sultanate there is plenty room to lie, deceive and test people and live to tell the tale. Here? Look around you. Does this seem like a place where there is anything in surplus? If you decide to mess around and not do what we tell you to do, that means we all die. That also means I have no qualms in getting rid of you to save myself.’’[/i] He’d stare her down for a moment more before asking, [i]‘’do you understand?’’[/i] Regardless of the answer, he’d let go of his tight grip around her arm, and let her go inside. The warmth would most likely be very welcoming, given the fact that Ketill had seen fit to stoke it up quite high to battle the winter cold that was setting in. As he opened the door, a loud yell came from behind it as Basim had apparently been standing behind it, listening in on the conversation. [i]‘’Idiot,’’[/i] was all Ketill would say before stepping past the both of them and returning to the fire he had been working on. A few weeks later, Basim had confronted Ketill when Najla was not there – presumably out looking for edible roots or so. While Ketill was sewing a new cloak from deerhide, from the stag they’d shot during their initial hunting trip. Basim’s entry into Ketill’s personal space had been very sudden, causing Ketill to raise an eyebrow before even looking up. [i]‘’What is it. Lost your cloak?’’[/i] he asked Basim, obviously bored of the conversation already, before it’d even started. However, Basim was not so easily put off. [i]‘’Why’d you send her out?’’[/i] [i]‘’She’d insulted me,’’[/i] Ketill replied, turning his eyes back onto the cloak. Basim didn’t leave, but Ketill tried to ignore him none the less. After a few minutes of silence, Ketill finally gave in, and with a sigh he put down the cloak. [i]‘’Okay, what?’’[/i] [i]‘’That’s not a real answer,’’[/i] Basim replied, his eyes having some fire in them. A stark difference with Najla, who seemed void of life at this point. Nobody could blame her – but even when nobody could blame her for it, Ketill had found a way. [i]‘’You sent her out because she didn’t contribute. That’s why you’re annoyed with her, right?’’[/i] [i]‘’Oh, so even you, her own brother, see it too?’’[/i] [i]‘’Th-that’s not what I meant. She’s just not used to this.’’[/i] [i]‘’I told her that ages ago. I told her, no, warned her. One day she’d lose her empire and she’d have nothing left. She is pampered. She has no skills.’’[/i] [i]‘’So you send her out to die? I knew you were a savage, but this is beyond you. Even you, Ketill.’’[/i] Ketill sighed again, his sigh speaking of a deep and growing annoyance at the boy, for who Ketill normally had a lot of patience. But it was wearing thing now, with these questions. A boy as smart as Basim would’ve and should’ve understood. If Najla had been anyone but his own sister, he likely [b]would[/b] have understood. He rose from his seated position, and suddenly was much larger than Basim. But, for once, Basim didn’t back down. [i]‘’You’d rather I wring her neck with my own hands?’’[/i] Basim shrugged defiantly. [i]‘’It’d be more humane, at least.’’[/i] [i]‘’I’ll tell you what I told her. Look around. This is not the Sultanate. It’s not Broacien. I can afford to make mistakes – I know the lay of the land more than you do and I have the knowledge to survive. What do you have? Yes, you are smart, you can learn and adapt. You have a chance.’’[/i] [i]‘’And Najla has-’’[/i] [i]‘’Najla has [b]nothing.[/b] Get that through your head,’’[/i] Ketill quickly interrupted him to avoid Basim going on a rant on how nice his sister was. Perhaps she was nice to him. Being nice, however, did not fill a stomach or warm a frost-bitten hand. Ketill remained silent for a moment before continuing, his tone slightly calmer than before. [i]‘’She was dead weight.’’[/i] [i]‘’And now? She’s learning now, isn’t she?!’’[/i] [i]‘’That’s the point.’’[/i] Ketill’s answer did not seem to satisfy Basim. He had every right not to be satisfied – the answer was cryptic and did not give much of a clue as to what was actually meant. Yes, that’s the point, but what was the point? That she learned? [i]‘’What do you mean?’’[/i] Ketill grinned. The wisdom of Audrun. [i]‘’I will tell you tonight, if you start making food. I am tired of eating your sisters… whatever she calls it.’’[/i] [i]‘’You think my cooking would be better?’’[/i] [i]‘’No. Just different.’’[/i] And so it was done. Basim cooked – relieving that duty from Najla for once, who would instead be instructed to spin the fibres of plants into cord. With Basim’s earlier explanation, the chore would be doable for her, even if her pace would be dreadfully slow. Ketill himself kept preoccupied with the cloak, which turned out to be a hellish task. However, close to nightfall, Basim would be done. Although the flavour was not worth mentioning, at the very least he’d made it look nice. They’d gathered around the fire, first to eat, then second to listen to Ketill. Perhaps Najla had no interest in the story – but it offered her respite from work, and despite her changed working ethics, a break might’ve been welcome. Between the crackling of the fire and the dark environment, the knowledge he was about to impart on them would seem far more wise and perhaps mystical than it was in reality. [i]‘’Haltur ríður hrossi, hjörð rekur handar vanur, daufur vegur og dugir. Blindur er betri en brenndur sé, nýtur manngi nás,’’[/i] he’d say while cutting a piece of wood using the axe they’d been using to chop wood. He stared into the fire momentarily before glancing up at Basim, who looked at him expectantly. He didn’t have to guess what the boy wanted to know – he wanted to know what it meant. It was surprising, really, that Ketill was even able to remember the words, but he did, as they’d been imparted onto him like he was imparting them onto Najla and Basim now, by his father, long ago. They’d been the leading thread throughout Ketill’s live ever since. [i]‘’The lame can ride a horse, a flock of cattle can be driven by a handless, the deaf can fight a battle bravely. It’s better to be blind than to be burned, the dead are no use to anyone.’’[/i] Whether or not it was intentional, perhaps the saying alluded to Najla’s saving grace, when Basim had stopped Ketill from killing her during the coup. A short glance to Basim was all the boy needed, and he quickly raised a question. [i]‘’What is its meaning?’’[/i] [i]‘’Everyone has purpose, even the deformed. Only the dead are useless.’’[/i] With a short chop he smashed some wooden chips off of the wooden stick he was chopping, before chucking it into the fire. [i]‘’As long as you are willing to pull your weight.’’[/i] Clearly, he was talking about Najla now, and even though Basim caught on to that, he was apparently more interested in deciphering the meaning behind it even further. [i]‘’What about someone who is bed ridden? They are not dead – but they are useless.’’[/i] [i]‘’Perhaps, if you are wealthy and have many sons, you can afford to keep this person in your home and take care of them. Then they can give you support. A listening ear is always welcome. If you cannot afford this…’’[/i] [i]‘’Then they will die,’’[/i] Basim filled in. Ketill nodded slowly. It was the sad and harsh reality of living in the North. It seemed Basim was catching on. Ketill caught Basim shooting a glance at his sister, before turning back to Ketill. [i]‘’Where did this come from? What teaching or book?’’[/i] The remark earned a hard laugh from Ketill, who honestly hadn’t expected such a question. [i]‘’Books? There are no books here. And even if there were, nobody can read. We have the runestones, that we raise in honour of our forefathers. Some contain the epic saga’s of heroes or Audrun himself. I am a lucky exception, as I learned to decipher them early on when my father and I stayed at a blóthus.’’[/i] [i]‘’So the stone with the red paint on it that I stumbled upon was a runestone?’’[/i] [i]‘’Yes. Perhaps raised to mark a grave. I doubt you’d find experienced stone cutters out here. The lands here are good, which is why there are not many people here – there’s a lot of competition. Being a stonecutter isn’t exactly a profession that will help you survive. To answer your previous question, we spread our sága’s like I do now. By talking of them. Perhaps, one day, we can invite a gódi here, and he can tell the others. There are a great many number of them and only the gódi know them all.’’[/i] [i]‘’I see. So, all must find purpose.’’[/i] Ketill nodded slightly, though had one correction. [i]‘’You mustn’t,’’[/i] he added, but quickly added, [i]‘’but you should.’’[/i] Not just for survival – also for purpose, pleasure in life and good standing with others. Basim stared into the fire a while longer before dropping over backwards to ponder the saying, which was truly not that deep at all, but Basim realized he had little else to ponder about and he had already realized that Ketill was not the most knowledgeable about these new gods and their rules. He knew interesting bits left and right, but the true teachings, the names of all the gods, their purposes, he didn’t know those. Just how to please them. Ketill instead looked to Najla, making eye contact with her over the fire that rose and died down ever so slightly over and over. [i]‘’There is one more thing we must do before the winter truly falls,’’[/i] he told her, a serious look in his eyes now. It was clear that whatever he was going to say wasn’t as easy as ‘come on a hunt with me again.’ [i]‘’I’ve spotted tracks of a bear nearby when I was out hunting.’’[/i] Clearly, a bear was a bad sign anywhere – in the sultanate, in Broacien, and in the North trifold. [i]‘’We can use the meat. We just need bait.’’[/i] [hr] And so, the plan was made. It was expected that Najla would struggle against the plan, and logically Basim had his thoughts about it too. But, Basim had been convinced after Ketill showed him his plan. From the corner of the room, he’d pulled a gigantic branch he’d been shaving down to be the perfect size and width. It was almost like a real spear – not exactly straight, but close enough to where you couldn’t tell. On the end of it was a groove, where Ketill had tied down a heavy, large stone that he’d chipped down and sharpened. A painful job, but ultimately the result was there – a long wooden shaft, pointed with a heavy and sharp stone. But, that wasn’t all. After all, he hadn’t made Najla and Basim spin fibres into thread. With the thread he’d not only sewn more clothing, but also made a net of sorts that could be worn as a cloak. Attached to it was a hood that would be able to go over the head, covered in furs, likewise the rest of the netting. [i]‘’With this, I can lay down and hold my spear. You’ll cover me with snow. When the bear approaches Najla, I will be able to see, hear and feel it. When it storms Najla, I jump up and jam the spear into its heart.’’[/i] The plan would seem fine in theory – and when Basim asked why Ketill expected to kill a bear, the answer to both him and Najla was simple. [i]‘’A Daab can kill a daab. Asides, with the winter setting in, if the bear is still out in the wild now, that means it’s hungry. It should’ve gone for its winter sleep already. So, it might be weakened, but more aggressive. That means it’ll be more likely to charge. If it goes wrong, then it’ll be me in its’ path, not Najla.’’[/i] And so it was decided – Najla would eventually have to give in, or else Basim would be used as bait. The day that they had selected a hunt was a day carefully selected by Ketill – he’d seen a white and black rabbit running together the day before, and had decided that that meant the gods favoured their hunt. After all, rabbits were the key animal of the goddess of hunt. They had to track down the bear first, which was not an easy feat, and it took them several hours of wandering through the cold to find the location it’d started its’ day from, and then it would take another hour of tracking it, in which they once went the wrong way because Ketill read the tracks wrong. An easy mistake to make, but a mistake that cost them several minutes. The preparation itself was not that hard – Ketill laid down in the path that they presumed the bear would take, lured by some meat that Ketill put close by to draw it towards them, Basim would cover him with snow and then hide in a distance. He immediately felt the cold of the snow against his body, which made him shiver despite the clothes he was wearing. The wait for the bear took, what felt like, hours, but it turned out to be closer to half an hour, or three quarters. The cold was beginning to take its’ toll on him, shaking and shivering but determined to see this through. He was about to get up and cancel the plan, when the nearby foliage shook violently, and the breezes of the animal came closer. Ketill was nearly invisible in the snow, his cloak hiding him from sight, but not from smell. Hopefully, the combination of meat and Najla would make the animal not take notice. The breezes came closer quickly – the bear was charging madly, it’s frame still strong despite its malnourishment. When the beast was close enough, Ketill would yell at Najla, [i]‘’RUN!’’[/i] and in a flurry of white snow blasting upwards, he shot up, put his spear into the snow and prepared to strike the bear. His hands were cold. So cold… The spear moved left to right as he shivered, the mighty beast rushing forwards still with a newfound flash of surprise in its’ eyes. It hadn’t anticipated the man jumping up and was now barrelling directly towards the spear, though perhaps the Gods had found it was not Ketill’s kill just yet, for the shivering of his body made his spear move too much, and when the body of the bear came forwards, it got pierced in the chest, but missed the hear by an inch. Instinctively Ketill pushed the spear forwards and then pulled it back to deliver maximum damage and still keep the spear, but the force of the bear left him barely hanging on to himself, rolling backwards through the snow kicking up another flurry of white powder. Luckily for Ketill, the beast rushed off again leaving behind a crimson red trail of blood for them to follow. Ketill had been lucky – the beast had ran away instead of charged further ahead, and possibly mauled Ketill to death. He had no pretences about the spear stopping the bear – only if he could catch the beast off guard would it work. He was not physically hurt, but his chest was pounding with adrenaline, and the white breaths coming from his mouth had grown considerably in size, either because of how cold he was, or the adrenaline – perhaps both. But to give up now would be ungrateful for the chance. [i]‘’Ketill!’’[/i] Basim yelled, as he trudged through the thick snow as fast as he could. [i]‘’Ketill, are you okay?!’’[/i] Ketill raised a hand to signify he was alright, before turning to the path the bear had left behind. He trudged forward himself as well, moving to trail the bear and kill it for good. [i]‘’What are you,- Ketill! Give up, this beast is no match for a wooden spear!’’[/i] Ketill shook his head violently, as if he was in a daze, confused and certain he had to kill it. [i]‘’I saw the sign. A black and white rabbit. I will succeed. It’d be ungrateful to leave such a beautiful creature to die with nobody there to use it.’’[/i] [i]‘’Beautiful creat-, Ketill!’’[/i] Najla and Basim seemingly had little choice than to follow Ketill along the trail of blood that got thicker as they closed in on it. It was almost as if Ketill was determined to throw himself into the clutches of the bear, judging from how fast he was moving, though his mind was on a whole other goal. Food, mostly, but also the rest of the winter. This was their safeguard, sent to them by the gods. To not use it would be a mistake – an insult to the gods. They found the bear in a corner, against a steep wall of stone, where it was trying to climb up. Any chance it had to move away was not forfeit, as Ketill closed in on the one gap it had that’d allow it to get back to the forest to try another route. The creature seemed to realize this, and backed itself into the corner. Rather counter-intuitively, Ketill began taking off the cloak and handed it off to Najla, not saying as much as a word. He needed the space to move, despite the biting cold. He felt something swell inside, something he hadn’t felt since he was in the Sultanate – that red mist that seemed to cover everything, that rage inside that seemed to belong to the Gods yet moved through his body like it was his own. He didn’t leave it at the cloak, however, and took off his tunic, baring his chest. It seemed insane – it was insane. With his eyes focused on the bear in a savage type of tunnel vision, it was clear that he wasn’t taking it lightly, despite it being insane. Dropping the tunic into the hands of Najla, he’d step forward, wielding the spear in his right hand and pulling the axe from the leather strap on his belt around his waist. [i]‘’AUDRUN!’’[/i] the deafening warcry called out, as he raised his weapons into the sky, turning his face there too to point himself to the gods. [i]‘’WITNESS MY BRAVERY!’’[/i] Then without further warning or bravado, he stepped forwards and prepared himself to fight. He twisted his shoulder to prepare himself, to prepare his body, and marched steadily forwards. Either to his death or his testament of strength. The bear only moved back into the wall further, but when Ketill got too close, he roared, and charged forwards. Similarly, Ketill sprinted forwards, holding his spear back. When the bear roared again, Ketill met with his own roar, and the bear stood on his hind legs then, preparing to swipe at Ketill. Quickly, Ketill stepped the last step of his sprint, and jammed the spear into the creatures’ rib cage, though he didn’t see the bears paw swipe forwards. Blood was drawn that day, and Ketill was forced backwards. His face ran red with blood – his own – seeping from three large swipes running from the top right of his face down, over his nose to his left cheek. He was lucky his eyes were unscathed, or else he’d have been blinded, crippled for life and unable to do anything. Anything but die in this forest. It seemed not to be the cold, but the bear itself that was the danger. Its’ hunger made it extra ferocious, hungry for meat, and its’ lack of escape routes meant it was flight or fight for the creature. His spear had gotten stuck in the bear, and when it fell onto its’ front legs, the spear broke off into several pieces, the end of it still stuck in its’ hide, sticking out. Ketill didn’t seem to feel the wound – in fact, he breezed more loudly, letting loose another warcry. [i]‘’AUDRUUUN!’’[/i] he cried. He switched his axe from his left to his right hand, and made ready to fight. The bear did the same – he barrelled forwards, crashing into Ketill. They went to the ground both, though the bears’ superior strength won out and naturally ended him up on top of Ketill, who was forced to use the handle of his axe to hold the beasts’ head back from biting him. If it hadn’t been for the Gods’ fog in his head, the red mist that seemed to hang everywhere around him now – or was that the blood seeping into his eyes from the wound he’d received – he would’ve given in, but the fog gave him strength, gave him some brutal form of focus on the task ahead. In the distance, he vaguely heard a boy yell his name. His left hand began searching for a weapon to use now that his axe was already in used to secure himself against the powerful jaws of the beast. His hand scanned left – nothing, yes, a rock but one that wouldn’t be big enough. He then moved his hand against the beast, to try and push it off to no avail. [i]‘’WITNESS ME!’’[/i] Audrun cried again as he pushed the beast with all his might, and managed to get the beast off for a moment. His left hand shot further down the beast’s pelt and felt wood. [i]The spear,[/i] he thought and instinctively he grabbed it, and with an inhuman strength he pushed it in. The bear roared loudly, and pushed down with all its’ weight now that he felt his lifeblood gushing away. It became increasingly hard to push back against the 400 pound creature, as the bear gave in and focused itself solely on biting and mauling Ketill. Again Ketill pushed the spear in, and then the bear fell completely still, snapping its’ jaws at Ketill once more. The stink of the beasts gaping mouth was awful, as the thing hung only a few inches from Ketill’s own face. Ketill felt the drops of the beasts’ drool on his cheek, but he kept up, knowing that it was do or die. After a few more seconds, that felt like hours, the beast sighed heavily and then dropped its’ full weight onto Ketill. It was dead - finally. He crawled out from under the beast, the crimson red on his body staining the snow. It wasn’t his – no, that dripped out below his face. Pieces of flesh hung rather loosely from his face, though for the most part it’d been a deep, but non-lethal cut. He breathed deeply, fast at first, then a single slow breath. Before Basim and Najla could reach him, he rolled over onto his bare back, and yelled at the sky loudly. Triumphant. They had to work quick after that – skinning and butchering the animal would cost close to two hours as Ketill insisted on taking utmost care in preserving the beasts’ hide. After dressing up again to avoid hypothermia, he’d skin the animal himself. [i]‘’For my new cloak,’’[/i] he’d said, and admittedly it would be a fine thing to have – a cloak of kings. Perhaps it was a fortunate coincidence, but it seemed almost like a sign of what was yet to come. When everything was said and done, it was closely to nightfall, and they’d have to return and cook if they wanted to go to bed without hunger. Despite the pain in his face, which was setting in now that his berserk had ended, he seemed ecstatic about the hunt – something about killing a bear on your own was immensely satisfying. [hr] Progress on the bear cloak would have to wait, as it was a process best saved for true winter, when there was nothing to do. The scars on his face had healed well, though they were very visible, three thick stripes across his face. It made him look more rugged with his beard and longer hair, especially since he’d taken great care to continue to braid the iron rings into his beard. When Najla and Basim were busy making more cord form plant fibre, Ketill had been busy preparing the bear cloak. It seemed almost like an obsession if his as he carefully laid out the fur and measure everything twice, thrice, or sometimes more. He used charcoal to draw lines on the backside of the fur, almost to the point of perfectionism. He’d never done this before for any other cloak he’d made to replace the older ones they had, so most certainly it was strange. Stranger was the knock on the door, which caused Ketill to look up. Najla and Basim were inside, speaking in Sawarimic, so he knew it wasn’t them. Ketill slowly got up, looking at Najla who asked him if he missed one. He shook his head, no, he did not. Of that he was certain. [i]‘’Whoever it is, if they wanted us dead, we’d smell fire and burning, not hear a knock at the door,’’[/i] he said to her, though admittedly he was also trying to convince himself of that. Audrun himself had said to always be wary of strangers, after all. He closed in on the door and slowly opened it, holding his hand on his axe ready to strike. As he opened the door, he saw a group of three – all rugged men, clearly. The leader, a man with a beard and hair that flowed back into a pony tail of sorts, seemed surprised to see Ketill. [i]‘’Is Sigurd… here?’’[/i] he slowly asked. Ketill’s fingers clutched the axe tightly. [i]‘’Sigurd is dead,’’[/i] Ketill said, presuming Sigurd to be one of the men he’d killed. [i]‘’I killed him.’’[/i] The men did not seem surprised at all, though turned to face Ketill more frontwards, their interest seemingly captivated. [i]‘’For what reason? You know that murder is punishable?’’[/i] [i]‘’They attacked me, with four of them. When I sliced the first, two of them ran off,’’[/i] he explained, opening the door completely so the men could see inside – in the background there was Najla and Basim. [i]‘’I found them here through the blood trail and finished the job. Sigurd was a friend of yours?’’[/i] [i]‘’I wouldn’t call him a friend. We usually stay at his house when we travel to the South for the winter.’’[/i] [i]‘’To the mountains, close to Broacien?’’[/i] [i]‘’Through them – we are going to work there for the winter, then return when we can live here again.’’[/i] Ketill’s eyes scanned up and down the men individually, before he stepped aside to let them in. [i]‘’We haven’t got much to offer, but you are free to our food and drink, and the comfort of our fire for the night.’’[/i] The men nodded, gratefully so, and stepped inside. The mood seemed to relax a bit, though there was still a visible tension in the air. Ketill went to sit on his spot again, in the comfort of the fire on some furs. He soon pulled the bear fur onto his lap again, resting his hands on it. [center][img] https://i.pinimg.com/564x/a7/f3/5f/a7f35f0ed3ef18aecb5775d407823807.jpg[/img] [sub]The leader[/sub][/center] [i]‘’My name is Ketill Grimhildrsson,’’[/i] he told the men, as was custom. [i]‘’These are Basim and Najla,’’[/i] he then explained, gesturing towards each of them. The three strangers offered cautious but respectful nods, unsure of who the two were or how to say their names. [i]‘’Do they speak our language?’’[/i] the leader asked, seemingly being familiar with Broacieniens enough to know they could speak ‘some’ Nordic, or at least make sense of it. [i]‘’Well enough, like a Broacienien. But they are from further south – a land where there is no snow, only sand. And heat.’’[/i] The men laughed as the leader raised a comment on that, saying that he [i]‘’much preferred constant heat over constant cold.’’[/i] Ketill could only shake his head. [i]‘’The heat there will kill you. Where we northerners lack food, the southerners lack water. No snow to melt, no rivers to drink from.’’[/i] The men nodded at that, pondering it for a moment before putting it out of their head – such a strange land was far beyond their comprehension. [i]‘’We are from the northern lands, not too far from here. My name is Grettir Osmundrson, this is my brother Arngeir Osmundrson, and our companion, Hádski Arvidsson.’’[/i] [i]‘’It is good to meet you then. Najla, give them some food and a fur each for the night.’’[/i] [hr] The men stayed for the night, though there was little conversation as the men seemed ready to sleep when they had arrived, and were fast asleep even when Ketill continued working. The next morning, they thanked Ketill, Najla and Basim for their hospitality before continuing on their way. As a parting gift, Ketill imparted on them some additional supplies for the journey, as well as giving them directions to a farmer he knew in the Barren Flats, where he was sure they’d receive a good pay. [i]‘’We will see them again,’’[/i] Ketill told Najla and Basim after he shut the door. He had a feeling about them, something he couldn’t shake. Not necessarily negative, but something told him that these men were going to be familiars of his and the others some time in the future. The winter would last forever, it seemed, and they were stuck inside for the most part of that. At the very least it gave them some time to think about things – perhaps too much time. Ketill spent half his time on chores, such as maintaining a fire, working on his bear cloak, or other chores of such variety, and the other half of his time entertaining Basim’s questions, which seemed to be piling up now that they were stuck inside for a prolonged period of time. Of course, they could go outside, and Ketill did a few times to get more firewood, or to get snow to melt into water, but it was a task that he didn’t willingly undertake unless he had to. Understandably, neither Najla nor Basim would enjoy going out there. [i]‘’What about this house?’’[/i] Basim asked, laying on his back near the fire, kicking his foot up and down as he laid there one leg crossed over the other. His head was rested on a stack of a few furs, his hands further pushed behind his head to support it. [i]‘’… yeah, what about it.’’[/i] Ketill not so much asked as much as he stated it. This was the third round of questioning Ketill would receive, so he had grown rather tired of it. [i]‘’It’s a house.’’[/i] [i]‘’So… it’s yours now, right?’’[/i] [i]‘’I killed for it.’’[/i] [i]‘’So are we staying here then?’’[/i] [i]‘’Have you looked at the walls?’’[/i] Ketill then asked, gesturing to the side. The walls were in a state of disrepair and barely kept the cold out and the warmth in. It would’ve been a problem for a prolonged stay, obviously, though Ketill didn’t presume that Basim had the experience of living in a regular home outside of a palace to realize that. And the notion of winter cold was entirely foreign to him, too. [i]‘’I don’t think you would enjoy living here for long. Even the new things get old at some point.’’[/i] [i]‘’Maybe. So where do you want to go, then?’’[/i] [i]‘’We will stay here, because the land here is good. But we will need to rebuild a house,’’[/i] Ketill replied, the task of building a house seemingly not daunting him in the slightest. [i]‘’That would take a while. But we have the time. There’s no rush here, unlike in other lands.’’[/i] [i]‘’I guess that’s true. But that’s not because there’s nothing to do. It’s because we can’t go outside.’’[/i] [i]‘’Technically you can. I just wouldn’t do it.’’[/i] [hr] As winter was closing, and the snowfall stopped, and even the snow outside started melting, Ketill had finished his mastercraft – his bear cloak. He draped it over his shoulders, and it was clear that the extra time they’d spent in the cold, despite his bleeding face, had been well worth it as the quality of the fur was impeccable. Despite his rather amateurish sewing skills, it’d become quite a nice cloak too, and it meant he could give away the older one made of stag fur. He’d also made two separate necklaces with bear claws hanging from them – 5 claws on each necklace. Despite his feelings towards her, Ketill had to admit she pulled her weight when luring the bear, so he put the necklace on top of the stag fur cloak and placed it on top of the furs she’d sleep on for her to find. No additional words were needed on his end – there was little he was interested in saying. He put his own necklace around his neck, which was additionally adjourned with the bears’ teeth as well unlike Najla’s, as a sign of strength. After all, killing a bear was a great feat, and wearing the skin and the claws would only add to that. When the heath started appearing again, it’s colourful purple being a bright contrast to the once pure white landscape, Ketill would go outside to set some traps again – food was running low and they needed to get back to ‘regular’ business as soon as they could. Before he could leave to enter the woodlines again, however, he saw three figures approaching in the distance. [i]‘’Najla! Basim! Come out, and bring me my axe,’’[/i] he’d yell, just in case. When Basim came out, he handed off the axe towards Ketill, and all three of them would wait for the three people to approach. It turned out rather soon that the three strangers were actually familiar, carrying behind them a wooden handcart loaded with goods. Ketill knew better than to ask how the obtained that, he just hoped that his directions hadn’t lead them there. [i]‘’Heill og sæll, bróðir,’’[/i] Ketill greeted them, cautiously holding his axe in his hand. But the man did not seem interested in fighting. Rather, they were interested in something else entirely. [i]‘’Heill og sæll, to you too!’’[/i] the leader cheerfully replied, and soon after the three of the men came to a halt. [i]‘’I see winter has done you well, a new cloak and a necklace. A bear no less.’’[/i] [i]‘’You could say that – winter has done you well, too,’’[/i] the reply would come from Ketill. [i]‘’Very much. But now that we are here, I should say we were interested in settling nearby. Next to you, if you’d be open to that?’’[/i] Now Ketill paused and observed the men one by one. He knew Najla and Basim would probably not be too happy, given that these men were clearly cutthroats and far removed from ‘honorable’ Northerners. But he had to admit that the burden would be lessened by a large amount with three added men to the group. Furthermore, the fact that they’d be building a new house would only be made easier. They’d be able to build at least two houses of decent size [i]and[/i] convert the existing one into a small house to store items or animals in, if they ever got any. [i]‘’I would have no problems with that,’’[/i] Ketill started, twisting the axe in his hand uneasily, wording his words carefully. [i]‘’As long as it is recognized I own these lands.’’[/i] [i]‘’Naturally, we just want a place to call home, with people we can call friends. It’s hard to find here, in these parts.’’[/i] [i]‘’That it is. You can sleep with us, inside, in your own corner. We will begin building a house as soon as we have restored the food supply. You can load off your supplies and help with that. Najla, show them their place.’’[/i] For their ruggedness, again the men seemed complacent to follow his commands and were happy to follow Najla. Perhaps they were more well behaved than things let on. As soon as they’d settled in, they indeed set out on their own to hunt, using their own bows. Ketill himself took only an hour to set traps in spots he knew had animals run through them and then returned, finding Najla and Basim inside. [i]‘’Are you sure about them?’’[/i] Basim asked. [i]‘’No,’’[/i] was the answer. It was clear and not much was left to the imagination, except for that one burning question. [i]‘’Then why let them sleep here?’’[/i] [i]‘’Many hands make light work. We cannot live off of meat forever. We need to start farming. I’m not a farmer, neither you, and your sister can’t even tell wheat from hops.’’[/i] He paused for a moment, and Basim did too, giving Najla ample time to put her piece of mind into the conversation.