Þrír: Vengeance of the Long Serpent

"Good thinking Kara."

Hraven waits the youths return to consciousness. Preparing a small meal and kvass for the youth knowing so exposed and weak that too much food and water could kill him.

"You lot, take the vessel in tow, it may be of use to us soon."

Oren lashes a line from the canoe to the ship as ordered...

The young man awakes with a splash! At first he is only able to identify himself as Yilithi, but with food and water is able to speak more. He pleads with the party to help his lands, and points in a direction slightly different from Hallbjorn's noted course. His language seems to be a dialect of Ulnat, which makes it difficult to understand exactly what he asks. He speaks of his home of Laquirv and the troubles, but has challenges explaining what the troubles are.

Yäns, having learned much from the Ulnat people, feels an immediate responsibility to help this man. He speaks a comforting word in his best Ulnat dialect and tells the young man that they are already on a mission. The huntsman explains that, if the young man joins our crew and aids in the success of our quest, then he would have cause to request our help.

Still in bad shape, the young man slips into unconsciousness with a single word on his lips; "Althunak."

It appears our destiny and this man’s is woven together by the gods. If there is any herbs or tinctures for health, this man may yet aid us with information for our quest.

"Keep our guest warm and fed, give him my ration for the day." Hraven ordered the crew before calling together his lieutenants.

Hraven sat in thoughtful consideration of the Ulnat youth and what had transpired. Though he did not understand the words he did understand pleading in most any tongue. What bothered him was how far north this Nomad had come. The why of that would remain a mystery until more could be questioned.

"He seemed to be asking for help. I know not the tongue but that was obvious. Althunak I understand readily enough. If his kin are aggrieved by our quarry it makes the most sense to let our vengeance out upon the enemy where we can readily take succor. The place we were heading had already been raided, so too there will be more plunder elsewhere. Do any of you have any thoughts regarding what should be done before I make up my mind?"

"'Ware naming that demon, lest you invoke it," Runar says uneasily, recalling Hallbjorn's grisly fate. "We owe the beast a reckoning for the death of Jarl Henrikson, and of Hallbjorn. That is a blood-price that will be dear in the paying!

"Hallbjorn told us that the demon's servants held many riches; it may be that the thirst for vengeance and the thirst for gold be quenched by the one draught.

"Hallbjorn spoke also of a great stone village where the Evil One dwells, inland from one of these northern seas. It is possible we draw near to the place. The demon clearly wields power in these parts."

Kara takes a closer look at the young man's vessel. Maybe there is something to learn from its contents or its make. "We should find and secure a spot for the ship and find some answers from the people we encounter, friend or foe. Let us learn about the evil while unleashing vengeance on the shore before heading inland. Destroying the demon should be our first priority, though. Riches will come on the way."

"I agree with Kara," says the half elf,

"We are strangers in this land and the more we learn the stronger we become."

"And you Yans?"

Hraven asked as the others weighed in, with Yans holding his peace.

Yäns sighs and looks to the clouds.
Vengeance is still our quest. Nothing changes that.

"I've considered your points." Hraven began as he weighed the information he was presented. "The Ulnat have been good to our people. So too is it true that we need a safe harbor on these foreign shores. We will help the Ulnat and with our combined arms make the enemy pay."

"Helmsman, set a course for the Ulnat our friends need our help and we will not disappoint."

With the decision made, and his own rations cut Hraven breaks out his tackle and spends the rest of the day fishing.

The young man fades in and out of consciousness for some time, though seems to improve as he is provided food and water. Kara and Runar examine the small craft that he had piloted, and find nothing out of the ordinary about it. They do note, however, that it is designed for near-coast and river travel, not open sea. Knowing that there is still several days to a week left before they reach their destination, he must have been swept up in the currents and pulled further out than he had planned. Or, perhaps he was desperate.

Following Yilithi’s directions, he leads them northwest for three days. On the morning of the fourth day, they spot a fog-shrouded coastline that resolves as they draw closer into a small inlet and a village. The village is a small affair, not more than 15 hide-covered huts and maybe 20 kayaks pulled up on a rocky beach.

The villagers panic as the longship approaches and can be seen fleeing into the tundra, their most prized goods in hand. Astute observers note that there are very few males among the villagers, and the few that can be seen are either very old or very young. As the Long Serpent grinds ashore on the rocky beach, Yilithi vaults over the side and wades ashore. With his arms raised, he addresses his village, prompting one old man to come down from the tundra.

Oren grabs a line and wades ashore as well, helping to secure the longship before anything else. Once done he hangs back and plays a merry tune on his lyre in hopes that music is truly the universal language.

The huntsman knows Ulnat, yet prefers to hold off lest the terrified villagers become overwhelmed. He merely disembarks the ship and keeps his hands empty of weapons… for now.

Kara, not troubled by her companion's worries, addresses the villagers in loud, clear Ulnat.
The absence of men could have more than one reason. They could have fallen in combat with the enemy or been taken. They could be hunting or lying in wait somewhere watching the group arrive and weighing their chances...
Better to let them know they understand the language and come with good intentions.

"We are fearsome warriors, sisters and brothers of the mighty Hallbjorn, who followed Yilithi here to offer our aid. Will you welcome us as the battle-tested allies we can be to your clan?" As she speaks she takes a few firm steps forward towards the huts and stretches out her arms in an inviting, if also somewhat challenging manner.

Hraven warily regarded the Ulnat villagers but did not begrudge them fleeing their approach. It was as bad as he had expected. A sick feeling grew in the pit of his stomach. But he pushed it deep down ignoring it for the time being.

Instead he followed Yilithi's lead and nodded respectfully to the elder who approached. Approaching confidently and with a sure demeanor. 'Hail to the day, Wise One, come bring your folk back to their homes - let us warm by the fire and speak. We have sailed long and rowed hard to come here. I am called Brindlemane." He offered his hand as a gesture of friendship and goodwill.

Kara made her address, Oren played, Runar and Yans kept to themselves. It was well and good as Hraven thought. There was little to be done save introductions at this point. He would need to know the temperament of the people before requesting or demanding a thing from them. "I greet you as a friend, but I know not what to call you."

Neither speaking the language of the Ulnat nor knowing their ways, Runar follows Yäns' example and does his best to look friendly, or at least non-threatening.

Showing that they have good intentions, the party is is greeted with the sight of the old man embracing Yilithi, and then approaching them. In heavily accented Nørsk, he introduces himself as Jarvi, Yilithi’s father and one of the village’s elders. The characters are welcome to stay, and soon the hesitant villagers prepare a meager feast of salted seal blubber, lichen soup, and seabird eggs (eaten by chipping a hole in the shell and sucking the yolk out). During the feast, Jarvi tells the party the tale of himself and his village.

"I know of your kind fair-haired ones. Many years ago when I was as young as my son, a storm blew me far out to sea. I paddled and sailed for many days, and made my way to a green and fair land, warm and full of game. I was foolish as to the ways of the southern folk, and was caught hunting the short-haired bison that are too stupid to run away. My captor pitied me for I was far from home, and took me into his household, where I learned of your ways and language. In time, I longed for my own people, built a new kayak, and returned home. Your people were generous and brave, and saved a young seal hunter wandering the Great Water. Now your people have come to my home, and I pray that this old man’s memories are true. I pray that you can be my salvation once again.

"Ten summers ago, a young man named Elvanti was in disfavor with the elders of the village of Alcanavt. He sought the hand of the happiest maiden that his people had to offer, but none approved the marriage, not even Klinqa, the maiden herself. Elvanti was angry, for his parents were rich in furs and seal fat, and his uncle was the village shaman. He turned to them, but they replied that he must abide by the wishes of his elders and the girl.

"In anger and shame, he fled across the tundra, vowing to return with the heart of a great-tusked one to prove his worth. He was gone that summer, and into the winter, and all feared he was lost. Before the ice broke the following spring, he wandered back into his village, his body sprouting shards of ice and cold fire. With great gusts of wind and snow, he laid low the elders, his parents, the shaman, and even Klinqa’s parents and brothers. Elvanti then proclaimed he was the Chosen of Althunak, the great God of the North, Bringer of Cold, and Lord of Winter. Those who would follow him found themselves gifted in strange ways, and those that did not froze to death, though their huts were warm and fires lit.

"For ten summers we have fought off the Children of Althunak, but the other villages were not as lucky, one by one they have fallen, and soon we will as well. Our sons and daughters die beneath our cousins’ spears, the hunting has gone poor for us, and the winters are ever colder. When I heard that the Dragon Riders had come with their skins of shiny metal, I sent my two sons, Yilithi and Kelvani to find them. One has returned and brought you here to save us; I only hope it is not too late."