Thread: Darkness Has Its Teachings (Athene & Alvis Alendran)

The sea was a home to the men on the ships. Even if there was no need for it, every man present woudl have been on the seas sooner or later. It was a trait of his people. Salt got in the blood they said, called men back to the sea. SOme women too, but that was a rarer incident. Still, Goormr could cast his gaze to the other ship, pick out more than a few women sitting on the oar benches of the ship, every one of htem armed for war, ready to fight. Several of them he trusted in battle more than most of the men. He turned back to the waters, staring intently out over them. He'd even amde two of them members of his Housecarls, inviting more than a small degree of specuulation as to the reason for the appointment. Warrior or bedwarmer? The fiercest of them, Yrsa, had wounded a dozen men, and slain two more over such accusations, showing timer adn again that whatever place she had she earned through blood and steel. From the other ship, Yrsa spared a glance at her Jarl. Frostmane was not a man that was easy to ignore, and not simply becasue of his hair. A full handspan taller than most other men, and distinct beyond even that. His eyes were like chisled shards of ice, a light blue that almost radiated chill. His face was burnt from wind and sun, lending him a darker hue than one might expect. The bones in his face were distinct, cheekbones high and a straight nose that stayed narrow. Unlike moost of hte warriors, he kept his beard clipped short, out of the way. The way he looked made some wonder if his ancestry might be mixed from another land, and such may well have been true, but his conduct made him a better viking than most anyone else. He had promised her wealth adn glory, and thus far he had been good to his word, earning him her loyalty. They had been at sea for some time, but checked their bearinngs through stars and sun daily to ensure that they still bore west, alwasy tot he west. Others had gone before them, claiming to see the rich lands there, but all had born North, Goormr aimed to a more southern course. They would find lands not yet truly touched by the iron of his people. Goormr ran a hand along the rising dragon prow of his ship, feeling hte careful lines that had been carved into the prow, the high arcing dragon head that seemed to be roaring from where it was perched. He turned away for a moment to see how his people were doing. The sails had ben carrying them well for several days, letting them save their strength. He allowed himself a content smile, noting that none of his people seemed to be shying away from whatever duties were needed to keep them in motion. He heard a call from the other ship, and looked over to see who was making such a call. Yrsa no less, was at the top ofthe mast, having scrambled her way up with some degree of ease. She was pointing to the fore, adn calling out a single word. Land! Land! She roared in a voice that carried clearly over the seas. Goormr turned to look, straining his eyes. Sure enough, he began to hear before he saw, the roar of waves slamming into a shoreline. Goormr gave a grin. Stand ready! He roared. We make landfall soon! He called. Men scrambled to collect their war gear. Armour was shrugged on, weapons checked. They needed to be able to find places ot raid, but once they did, they equally needed to be ready to strike hard and fast. He felt his pulse quicken in excitement. They had done it. New lands. And he was going to take what wealth there was from them.