The enforcer looked around at his goons with superior smile. It wasn't quite as convincing as he thought it was and Emmaline could understand why. On the one hand he might believe he could take Markus in a fight. That might or, more likely, might not be true, but even if he did, having murdered the captain of the vessel whose cargo he was supposed to secure wasn't likely to gain his employer what he wanted. Realistically the sensible choice would be to take the lashes, but the Norscans were a warrior culture and facing that kind of humiliation wasn't something this though could afford to do and still maintain his position.

"I don't think you quite understand who gives the orders around here but I..." the Norseman's bluster trailed off in a sudden piglike squeal. He dropped his sword and staggered forward towards Markus, clutching at his side. Dark blood throbbed from between his fingertips.

"There seems to be alot of that going around," another Norscan warrior who had apparently just joined the party, sneered. The newcomer was naked from the waist up save for the pelt of what must have been a massive white bear when it had been alive. A golden chain fastented its two claws together around his neck. His hair was a blonde nearly as bright as Emmaline's own and he held a curved bloodstained dagger in his left hand, having just driven it into his minions side.

"If you want to kill him on your sword Captain, you had best get to it," the stranger advised, gesturing with the dagger to the thug who was now writing on the ground, blood spilling from between his fingers.