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Storm of Steel
He walked into the room with a scroll in one hand and his war hammer in the other. Paisa was the strongest and wisest warrior in all the Nordic sea, this positioned him as the leader of the small barbaric village or Relleka. Having been slashed seven times to the chest and taken four arrows to his right leg, the scars on his body told stories more frightening than any man had ever heard. His thick beard, dark as the smoke of one one hundred fires, extended from his dry unforgiving face all the way to his sturdy leather boots. His eyes were as clear as the summer skies and as cold as the North Sea. The dead look in his left eye made you think he was always watching you, but he had been blinded in that eye by a knife penetrating his helmet during his first battle.
The cold winter breeze hurled inside as the door opened and struck everyone like a thousand needles of frigid air.
"Close the door Paisa, we're freezing in here and the wood's too moist to start a fire!” exclaimed a thin pale man from across the room.
"Freezing you say? You don't know the meaning of that word until you've walked the white tundras of the north, or felt the uncompassionate touch of a gilded-hearted woman", responded Paisa.
"Need I remind you it was I who laid with the queen of the western lands, the wealthiest and most heartless of all the kingdoms?" said the man.
"Of course, the images of that battle are still vivid in my dreams. And our people still sing about the capture of the western cities and the deeds Hendrik committed there,” exclaimed Paisa.
Suddenly, the room got warmer as wind shut the door behind him.
Paisa took a couple of steps forward and looked around him. The common hall was filled with loud laughter, the smell of beer and cooked lamb meat. He was surrounded by faces of men who he considered his brothers and trusted them with his life. He had gone in numerous journeys and dangerous expeditions to the darkest valleys with those men. Hendrik, the pale and nimble man who spoke earlier, had given him a young beauty from one of the overridden cities. Paisa took her as his wife. Leaning against the smooth stone wall was seventeen year old Bjorn, his eldest son. Much like his father, he was without doubt a great warrior but lacked his intelligence. His pitch black hair resembled Paisa's, but his brown eyes gave away his eastern descent which he inherited from his mother. Next to him sat a man taller than any other, dressed in numerous bear skins decorated with amputated thumbs. Entirely hairless with the exception of the single strain of thick braided hair that reached his waist. He was born homeless and without a father to name him so he was called “Tower”.
"My brothers, please be seated! I have news that will unease your feasted tanks. Our messenger Vald arrived this evening from the north with information about Jordik's army. I'm afraid they've arrogated every town in their way and are headed here this very instant", announced Paisa.
Everyone in the common hall looked at Paisa in silence. It was as if the cold has frozen their once heated spirits. Bjorn stood up and raised his voice.
"This is no time to panic! War is nothing but a kid’s game to us!” exclaimed Bjorn as he slammed his fist on the table
“Your boy is right Paisa, we mustn’t show fear towards our foes. We’ve been victorious in every campaign we’ve adventured on. Kings fall on their knees and weep when they hear our name, and the gods open their seas for us when we raise our flag. Winter has struck us hard and food supplies are low, but our ships are many and our men more. I say we fight Jordik and show him back to his icy caves in the north,” said Hendrik valiantly.
Everyone in the hall cheered and drank down their kegs of beer.
“Prepare our strongest warriors and ready the ships. I’ll be with my wife,” said Paisa marched out of the hall and Bjorn followed.
Snow fell from the silky night sky.
"Will it stop snowing any time soon mommy?" asked the small infant to his mother.
"Not until many moons have come and gone. My child, do not fear the snow, for you are your father's son and he isn't afraid of anything in the mortal world", firmly answered his mother.
Tattered animal skins covered the dark walls of the arctic pine house. A large iron cauldron was located in the middle of the main room and steamed off a pleasant smell, a mixture of cooked lamb and cabbage. Woven blankets with various designs laid on each of the two beds. The house had three rooms; one had a large bed and several swords hanging on the walls, another had a bed half the size of the other one and wooden toys scattered all across the floor; finally the main room had three small windows and a carved wooden door. The dim gleam of a wax candle on top of the dinner table was the only light source in the house.
The young boy looked out the window and saw a corpulent figure loom from the dark.
The door burst open.
“Karina, what’s Gunnar doing awake at this hour?” asked Paisa as he took off his heavy leathers and placed them on the table.
Karina was Paisa’s wife and mother to both of his sons, Gunnar and Bjorn. Her fair skin and light brown eyes gave away her eastern lineage. Her dark wavy hair was neatly arranged and served as a frame to her delicate highborn face. She was young in comparison to Paisa, and had been given to him as a wife before her 16th name day, after her city fell to Paisa’s army. Karina was weaving that night, a craft she had learned shortly after her arrival to the mightiest village in the northern lands, Relleka.
“I’m sorry my love, he wanted to practice sword play with you after your return from the council meeting”, said Karina while serving a plate of lamb meat to her husband.
“Yes father! Will you practice with me tonight? The other boys say I am weak and that I look more like mother than I do to you and Bjorn”, exclaimed Gunnar.
Indeed he did. Young Gunnar, only 7 years of age, had the same fair skin as his mother and the gauntly complexity common in eastern men. Only his clear blue eyes resembled Paisa’s.
"It's because you are weak. You can't even lift a wooden sword from the ground! How do you expect to become a great warrior like me or father?" said Bjorn mockingly.
“Ignore their words, you’ll grow in time and command those kids as their captain in wars. However, I’m too weary tonight my boy. Go to bed, I have matters to discuss with your mother”, said Paisa as he gulped down a piece of meat.
“Okay”, grunted Gunnar as he reluctantly marched to his room.
"Bjorn, that's no way to treat your own blood. You have brought disappointment to this house by speaking before thinking. I have told you countless times that you are to listen during council meetings and be nothing but a shadow in the dark, unnoticed,” said Paisa angrily.
"this is nonsense! My word is as important than anyone else's in this dirt of a town. You should be grateful to have me on your side in battle". exclaimed Bjorn as he furiously walked out of the room.
"That boy has no limits, i have ran outnof options with him,” said Paisa.
"His temper reminds me of yours at a younger age". said Karin.
"That's the least of my worries now". said Paisa.
“What’s wrong?” asked Karina in a worried tone.
“News has arrived from the north. Jordik has captured the last remaining strongholds and is waging war. The council and I have decided to respond to his threat and battle him”, said Paisa.
Karina dropped her threads.
“I know the strength of your army and I’ve seen you leave to lands farther than any man has ever traveled and lived to tell the tale, but our forces cannot match Jordik’s. Even if my father sends his men there is no way we can triumph”, said Karina skeptically.
“Have you no faith in your own husband woman? Jordik may surpass us in numbers but he is not half the man or commander I am. I’ll have his head on your table!” exclaimed Paisa furiously.
A cold draft of wind blew through the window and extinguished the candle.
“It’s late and your temper is enough to heat the entire town for a year. You shall do what you deem is best and I‘ll agree, for that’s my role as your wife. Although if the Valkyries seal your fate on a funeral pyre, tears of sadness will discomfort my heart as I warned you of the dangers ahead”, said Karina.
“No need for your anticipated words of sorrow. I understand what I am getting myself into and I shall face it like a man. I am no coward and I shall rest with ease knowing that we will feast over Jordik’s battered corpse”, responded Paisa.
Paisa finished his meal then headed to bed. He removed his heavy garments and set them on the floor. Karina lay next to him then kissed him goodnight, falling asleep as soon as her head rested on the soft feather pillows. Paisa looked at her and gently caressed her face with his heavy rough hand. The stars on the dark night sky shed a light on her beautiful features. He abode to his decision yet pondered if his judgment was right.
His eyes shut. Snow ceased to fall.
Karina stood before the window in her room the day Paisa had surpassed the heavy gates and collapsed the beautiful white walls of Feldip’s Landing, making his way through. She was stunned as she beheld the defeat of her father’s strongest soldiers with a single blow of a heavy steel war-hammer, never before had she witnessed such remarkable demonstration of strength. Paisa carried himself gracefully in combat; his moves were precise and lethal, his agility unmatchable, and his courage unyielding. When Paisa’s men arrived to her chamber, located in the high tower of tKing’s Castle, her attempt to hide has been frustrated by a slim and shifty man. Her parents had been taken away with the rest of the prisoners and she was seized to Paisa. His face, younger at the time of her capture, showed no mercy as she was carried to him. The nimble man cast her to the floor, and Paisa grabbed her by her neatly combed hair. He looked at her and she recognized the look in his eyes, it was no longer rage and enmity, but love. Paisa carefully picked her up from the floor and ordered her family to be released along with the abandonment of Feldip’s Landing. Karina fell in love with him the instant his clear eyes met hers.
As the rising sun streamed through the uncovered windows, Paisa stood up and let out a powerful loud groan. Everyone in the village could distinguish this mighty roar, much like a bear’s, every morning. Karina, shaken by the commotion, rose at once from her sleep.
“Have you got to make such a bustle every morning?” moaned Karina as she stretched her arms.
“Good morning dear! Well of course I must, how else would the people of our village know it’s time to get to work?” responded Paisa in a jolly tone.
The bedroom had grown chilly during the night, Karina’s feet were blue from the frost, and not even her furry leather boots could bring the blood back to her toes. She rapidly rubbed her hands on her feet to restore their movement. Stories of people losing their fingers to the cold winter nights haunted her thoughts, a fear that would’v never crossed her mind back in the warm city of Feldip’s Landing, her old home.
“I had a dream last night, of the day you captured Feldip’s Landing”, said Karina.
“One of my most excellent battles, if I recall. Jordik will soon taste the cold steel of the hammer I used that day”, said Paisa as he dressed himself in his battle armor; a heavy and studded leather body, thick sturdy chaps, a pair of black leather boots, a round wooden shield on his back, and an iron helmet decorated with two yak horns over his head.
“Will you be leaving to the north today?” asked Karina as she sat on the bed combing her long hair.
If the ships are ready and our men prepared then I shall. Bjorn headed out before me at my request”, said Paisa.
“I fear for Bjorn and you. He is a mighty warrior, but he is reckless nonetheless. Take care of him and come back safely. Remember he’s your son and your soldier; he should obey your command and never hesitate between his gut and your orders”, said Karina.
“You have nothing to worry about, the boy is safe with me. However, you should never question a man’s gut; for it may turn out to be more useful than any order”, responded Paisa.
Karina stood up and kissed him. Gunnar burst in the room and broke down to tears as he hugged his father good bye.
Paisa opened the door and stepped out into the small village of Relleka.
Beneath the cold wet sky of the old north stood Relleka, a small village enclosed in a valley of rocky mountains with an opening to the immense ocean. The market place was located in the center of the town and took in merchants from distant lands looking to sell their fine silk, as well as local fishermen providing people with fresh tuna and swordfish, a smith that could forge anything that was requested, and various other goods were available. North of the market place were the two docks; one served as a fishing post, and the other was used for the ships. East of the market was the biggest farm in the village, and provided: cabbage, onion and potatoes. The houses were located to the south of the market, which were all built from arctic pine with the exception of the common hll. This building was made of smoothened stone and was served as a meeting place for the council of the town.
Paisa looked around him; the ground was entirely covered by powdery white snow and he could see his soldiers boarding the ships.
He made his way from his house to the docks, were all the ships were preparing to leave for battle.
“Hendrik my friend! The winds and the tides favor us, the sky is clear, and our men are hungry for battle. This is truly a gift from the gods”, exclaimed Paisa as he greeted Hendrik.
“You are right Paisa. With the gods in our side we will be in Karamja Island before Jordik”, said Hendrik.
“Karamja is the last island between Jordik and us, if we succeed in battle thanks to our prayers to the gods, we will stop this mad man and bring peace to our lands”, said Paisa.
Paisa and Hendrik boarded the leading ship and set off. Thirteen ships left one after the other as people gathered in the docks to wave their last good byes to their fathers and brothers.
The mighty waves hurled the ship back and forth as rain poured violently from the cloudy dark sky. Seven of the thirteen ships had made it that far, however their chipped of hulls and pierced sails difficulted their arrival to Karamja.
"What explanation is there for this madness? We shan't make it to Karamja in one piece, and it will be the sea that defeats us,” said a nimble boy while struggling to stand up straight.
"It's a challenge set to us by the gods! They want to test our strength before battle,” responded Tower in a deep and merciless tone.
It had been long since they'd last seen land, and the troops were famished as they did not foresee the undesirable storm.
Paisa and Hendrik led the main ship, while Bjorn sailed behind him and Tower tailed them.
"You look weak, and your voice resembles that of a maiden more than of a warrior´s, who did you say you were again?" asked Tower.
"My name is Agnar from Seers' Village, south of Relleka. I’m the oldest in a long line of farmers, and seek to bring glory to my home through victory in battle. Food was scarce and I mostly fed from my family's produce of cabbage, hence my size. However I am a skilled archer and swift at foot,” said Agnar.
"An archer you say? That makes two of us in this army. Paisa believes real men should engage in combat using swords and physical strength. I say that the strategical perspective of an archer provides a broader point of view during battle, and it requires great skill to master the art of the bow,” exclaimed Tower contemptly.
Agnar struggled to stay on his feet while the vigorous movements of the ship almost threw him off board.
The heavy mists mantled over the ships.
“I wonder if we’ll ever see land again. Perish at sea, not exactly the most honorable of deaths,” said Agnar in a worried tone.
“Paisa expects the fog to disseminate soon. That shall ease our voyage, our arrival to Karamja will be secure. We’ve lost too many men in such short amount of time,” responded Tower as he maneuvered the sail with a super human strength.
An immense figure emerged from the mist.
He held the rusty brass telescope up to his only working eye. The mist dispersed with the passing of every second as they got closer to the monumental shadow. Paisa stepped back in utter awe. Pitch black peaks rose from the depths of the ocean and touched the dark tormented sky. It’s mouth opened monstrously, and the sharp basalt stalactites resembled fierce pointy teeth.
“Good heavens! Could it be?” asked Hendrik in surprise.
“I’ve heard nothing but myths and legends about TakHorKal,” responded Paisa.
According to the legend, TakHorKal had been a sea monster that wandered the North Sea stalking foolish sailors more than 1000 years ago. Some say that he was solidified into stone by the gods, others say that it froze into solid rock during the icing of the world centuries ago . This massive monster-looking cave had only been seen by a few, and their stories were taken as nonsense.
“We shall wait for the storm to pass. Tell our men to set anchor and take the canoes from here on,” commanded Paisa.
“Are you sure you aren’t precipitating your decision? Anything could be waiting for us in the mouth of the beast,” said Hendrik.
“I intend to head in first,” Paisa finished.
“Accompanied only by those brave enough to follow me into the obscure abyss.”
Six men had volunteered to join Paisa in the expedition. Amongst them were Bjorn and Tower, who were followed by a slender boy, named Agnar, that about the same age as Bjorn. Paisa put Hendrik in charge of the settlement and forced him to stay. The rest of the team consisted of Paisa’s henchmen.
They departed in a single canoe as the rest of the tripulation saw them disappear into the mouth of TakHorKal.
“Only cowards hide from something as mundane as a storm,” grunted Bjorn.
“It was the right call, I did what was best for my men,” said Paisa.
As they moved further into the cave, the light from the torches was the only thing keeping them from crashing into a stalagmite. The air got heavier and warmer with every row forward. Suddenly, the canoe came to a stop as it hit a small piece of land.
“The road goes three separate ways from here, if we split in groups we will cover more territory,” suggested Tower.
All of them climbed out of the canoe and set foot on the slippery floor of the cave.
“You three,” said Paisa pointing at the his henchmen.
“Take the eastern tunnel”.
“Tower and Agnar, take the western tunnel. Bjorn and I shall explore the middle one,” said Paisa.
“Return to this post in an hour,” added Tower.
They all went their separate ways.
“This tunnel is taking us nowhere!” exclaimed Bjorn furiously.
“Be patient my son, every path leads somewhere,” said Paisa.
It had been 30 minutes since they adventured through the tunnel, and it seemed to be endless.
“I believe your barbaric instinct is fading away, you’re far too old for these things,” said Bjorn.
“Why have you no respect for me son? I am your father and captain and you should treat me as such! I have no use for weak and inpatient whines like you in my army,” said Paisa firmly.
“I am the best warrior in the entire realm; this is a waste of my talents. As soon as I gather my own troops I shall leave Relleka and never return,” said Bjorn.
The tunnel began to widen as they made it to a large room about the size of the common hall at the end of the cave.
“How dare you say that? I’ve given you everything you have! You are ready to walk out on your own blood with that ease? The only reason I brought you on this war was to teach you the struggles of a warrior, but it’s useless, you’re not cut out to be a fighter,” shouted Paisa enraged.
“What good is it to be the son of a washed up and softened scum like you?” responded Bjorn.
The room was hot and the air heavy. Paisa began to take his armor off and placed it on the ground.
“As soon as we return home from war you will be exiled from Relleka with no honors or a copper to your name!” said Paisa gasping for air.
Bjorn’s face turned red with rage. In split of a second he jolted from one side of the room to another wielding his dagger and lunging it at Paisa’s heart.
Paisa’s lifeless body fell to the floor, creating a thunderous thump that echoed loudly though the cave’s dark tunnels.
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