[center][url=https://fontmeme.com/fonts/norse-font/][img]https://fontmeme.com/permalink/220727/4c67cf8faa3d1ffbc60ec7e4687fde05.png[/img][/url]

[img]https://c.tenor.com/gp-ubwQVltAAAAAC/rain-raining.gif[/img]
[sub][color=gray]Location: Under The Tree -> The Outskirts of Seattle[/color][/sub][/center]
[hr][hr]

[indent][indent][color=gray]When he awoke, he was alone, as he had been all those centuries ago. His ears rang as silence broke for the first time in two thousand years. The sudden sight he’d been gifted was overwhelming, and he shoved the palms of his hands against his face to block out the dim light of whatever cavern he’d awoken in. He leaned forward, fell, and stumbled to his feet, still blind. He could feel fresh air blowing against his skin, could hear the patter of raindrops, could taste the scent of pine and moisture on his tongue. 

Warily, he made his way towards the breeze, eyes screwed shut and hands out in front of him. He tripped up a flight of stone stairs, but he did not slow his ascent. His skin prickled as the cold air of this strange land whispered against his bare skin, and he shivered as the first drops of rain fell against him. For a moment, he basked in the cold, letting the water run over him. Despite the chill, he could not help the smile that tugged at the corners of his mouth. It reminded him of Helheim. 

Finally, he dared to open his eyes to the world around him. He squinted as the cloudy light of the forest shone down upon him, looking around for any sign of where he’d been. He could see that he’d emerged from a tree, though that was hardly the strangest of occurrences in his life. More curious to him was the vast stretch of emptiness that went on for leagues, completely unmarred by buildings. Was this where he had fallen? How long had he been asleep?

 Questions began to swim through his head, drowning him in uncertainty. Voices swam through his mind, but were they memories, or whispers of the draugr that haunted this place? Was he dead, or reborn? The confusion shocked his still foggy mind, and he let out an anguished scream, falling to his knees in the grass, and letting his fear and confusion tear through him. He was lost, and he was alone, and he had nowhere to turn. His scream died out and his panting breaths filled the silence. He clenched his fists, willing himself to stand up, and go, anywhere. He just needed to move. And so he did.

[hr][hr]

He walked for hours, naked and alone, stoic as he strode across this foreign field. Rocks and thorns littered the ground, but they did not mark his feet with blood, and so he took no notice. His eyes were trained ahead of him, at the small cottages rising over the hill. They were brighter than those he’d known, sturdier it seemed. There were so many, so close together, a small village just past the fence, standing in an orderly line.

The dirt beneath his feet faded to stone, smooth and grey. Wooden fences lined the back of each homestead, blocking the world behind their borders from his view. He watched the neighborhood from his vantage point in the woods, debating his options. The lights burning in each window told him there was plenty of help to be had here, assuming the townspeople were friendly. Perhaps they worshipped his father? Though he was not sure anyone who saw him now would believe him to be a son of Odin. His face was streaked with sweat, his feet caked in dirt. His blonde hair, once so brilliant, was dry straw brushing against his neck. Still, he would not make it far on his own. 

He strolled forward with the purpose of a soldier, knocking on the door of the first house he passed. His knuckles rapped against the wood with a satisfying thud. He had been asleep for quite some time it seemed. The mortals had gotten much better doors.

[color=white]“He-What the fuck?”[/color] the door swung open to reveal a startled, older woman, dressed in a nightgown despite the sun’s rays still peering over the horizon. The words she spoke were unfamiliar to him, a garbled mess of sounds that fell upon deaf ears.

[color=b8a857][i]“Minn nafn er Baldr Odinson, ok ek þorfuþinnr fylgjagð,”[/i][/color] he said, earning him a look of fear from the woman before him. The door slammed in his face, and he heard the woman’s voice call out. Perhaps she was fetching the servants to prepare his room? The mortals had certainly grown stranger.

Suddenly the door swung open and something was being pointed in his face. It was not a sword. He knew swords. This was different, something new. He blinked in surprise, but remained still, unsure of what exactly he was facing.

[color=white]“Listen buddy. You’ve got five seconds to step off my porch and get the fuck outta Dodge, okay?”[/color]

Baldr blinked again.

[color=white]“Are you stupid? Get the fuck outta here!”[/color]

Baldr remained where he was, an immovable stone. In a flash, the man’s hand whipped out, smacking him across the face with whatever strange weapon he held in his hand. His face turned to the side, due more to surprise than to any strength this mortal might possess. Shouts filled the air, but he could not hear him over the whispers in his head, the whispers that spurred him on. The whispers told him that he needed to kill this man and his wife, make them pay. And so he did.[/color][/indent][/indent]