Of Ice and Faith

[Vakarian]

"Long has our family defended the Northwestern villages of Midvinter from the creatures and elements that plague them; before the founding of Tháinbroek and the seat of High King. A time when families were set against families and war was rampant through our people. It was a dark time for our people, but our family gave them hope, gave them Haven from the cruelty of Midvinter and her children, the Valkyr. We were their Shield-Arm." - Máni's father telling of his family history.
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The biting chill of the mid-morning winds gnawed at the young form of Máni as he braved the wilderness on a set path in search of something that had been lost long ago. He grew up on the tales that his father told him of his legacy as a Shield-Arm, of what he was expected to be and of what it meant to be a Shield-Arm to the people of the Northwestern Villages.

His family, his history, was set long before the founding of the seat of the High King and in a time when clan fought clan for glory and power. His family was a bulwark for the villages of the west of the Crystal Falls, a shield against the infighting between the Valkyri. They had defended against rival clans vying for power in the northwest, and had come to make it a haven against the tide of fighting and darkness.

Yet, they did it not for the fame or glory that came with their tales. They did it from the goodness of their heart, thus many Shield-Arms found the favor of the Gods and were gifted enhanced reflexes and swifter movements. With each generation of Shield-Arm to be born, so too did the gift of the Gods pass to them; all the way down the line to the young Máni.

It was because of these stories that the young warrior was out in the wilderness east of Reykjaa, in search of an ancient legacy that had long been forgotten to the annals of time and ravagings of the elements. Rumor was still whsipered of a Stronghold in the mountains west of the Crystal Falls and east of Reykjaa, a stronghold that once was the seat of power for the Shield-Arm clan. But, the stronghold had been abandoned when the Vinterbound came from the darkness and pushed the Shield-Arms from their home.

Many Shield-Arms died in defense of the Stronghold, but it was fated to fall to the Vinterbound and the Shield-Arms came down the mountains and took refuge in the villages that they had long protected from their harsh environment.

But, now it was to be found again. The young Valkyr had left in search of the stronghold, following rumors and whispers of its supposed location. The journey was not without its dangers however, for rumor too told of a darkness that lingered in the old stronghold, a host of Vinterbound led by an especially cruel creature that had personally slain a number of Shield-Arm defenders.

However, he was never one to fear the darkness. He was walking the path that the Gods has chosen for him and if this was to be a test of Ice and Faith; his faith would overcome. He had the utmost surety in his gods and their decisions about his life, after all they had gifted him with abilities befitting a warrior of Béornskald.

He was able to summon kinetic blasts of energy that threw objects wildly through the air, he was able to tell someone's intended action in combat moments before the action would come, and most importantly, he had the senses of the Gods themselves, able to tell a good soul from the bad, and when another lifeform was near.

All of these were gifts from his gods and their favor of his family. This alone bolstered his faith and allowed him to set forth in search of a piece of his heritage.

 

[Vakarian]

The journey would be a long and arduous one and one that was certainly not without its dangers. But, that would not stop the young Valkyr warrior from beginning it. He would find what had been lost to him and he would reclaim it in honor of his mother and father. He would not allow his family legacy to fall into obscurity and irrelevance. The Shield-Arms deserved to be remembered and if he had his way, they would be.

With cold winds and colder temperatures biting at his skin and furs, he set forth into the Wilderness, gazing into the distance where a set of mountains could be seen.

His glacial eyes were hardened in determination as he set off, his pace steady and even as he began to traverse the wintry landscape that belonged to Midvinter. It was entirely likely that Máni would die on this journey if he were not a native of the planet.

An outsider would not last long in the cold or against the creatures that stalked the land. It was as if everything had been hardened and conditioned to live on the planet, even the beasts were larger and more fierce than most other creatures in the galaxy.

He had been born on the planet, and he had Valkyr blood flowing through his veins; pure Valkyr blood. He was designed to survive and to thrive on this planet, as were all other Valkyr.

It was part of who they were, engrained in their blood and body as though it were runes carved into stone - prevalent and powerful. The Valkyr have ever been a powerful people both in mind and body, a trait no doubt stemming from the Gods themselves.

"Eár guide my path as I journey for what has been lost. Allow my footing to be true and my eyes to be sharp in my hunt." a soft prayer was offered to the Goddess of the Hunt as he paused and knelt over a personal makeshift altar that he had deigned to bring with him.

He would need the aid of the gods if he was going to be successful in his search for Shield-Arm Stronghold.

As he knelt over the altar he offered bits of food and a thick piece of fur to the flames as offering to the Goddess. It wasn't much, but he hoped it would be enough to appease the Goddess and for her to gift him with a swift journey.

 

[Vakarian]

The offering to Eár seemed to please her for he was making good time traversing the snow covered valley at the foot of the mountain. He had run into very little in the way of trouble or danger so far, but he was not so naive to believe that he would not be tested on his journey.

The Gods had done many things for the Valkyri people, but giving freely had not been one of those. They liked their tests of faith and strength. They wouldn't be Gods of the Valkyri if they didn't. A smirk was brought to Máni's face as he thought of the Gods and their ways and how similarly the Valkyri seems to echo those ways.

If the Valkyri didn't resemble their gods in some ways, then they wouldn't be Valkyr Gods, he mused internally as he passed into a valley that held the pathway to the heart of the mountains. But, as he passed through the entrance of the Valley, a darkness crept over his mind and the smile faded from his eyes and lips.

There was a danger in the valley, and it was watching him as surely as the sun was rising in the morning sky. Still, he did not stop, but rather kept an alert watch as he made his way down the pathway into the valley.

At the heart of the Valley rested an old and abandoned outpost, heavily battered by the elements and markings from the various beasts of the region detailing the exterior, yet the building still dtood, a testament to the strength of the Valkyri people, a strength that seemed to echo in their architecture.

As he neared the outpost, the darkness grew more potent on his mind and he found himself calling to Helm for guidance and strength to resist. And, almost as if the God was answering his prayers, the sun burst through the clouds and fell upon the doorway into the outpost. Máni would not question the Gods, and immediately set forth, passing through the threshold of the ancient building and closed the door behind him, its heavy latch clicking in place to keep the door closed.

The darkness had faded from his mind, though he could not be sure when it had done so. He shrugged it off and lit the fireplace that was so conveniently stacked with wood, a roaring and warm fire coming to life before his eyes and flooding him with a warmth that he didn't know he needed.

He relieved himself of his furs and sat at the large table that was centered between the fireplace and the door leading into the valley. He pulled some meat from his pack and took a few considered bites as he withdrew a map of Midvinter and eyed it thoughtfully.

He had arrived in Snowwatch Valley, at the foot of the mountains said to hold the Stronghold of his ancestors, and the one who had given him the map had told him true; the old outpost was still standing.

He nodded to an answered thought and stepped away from the table, his footfalls surprisingly light and graceful despite his size of body. It was peacefully quiet in the abandoned outpost building, eerily so. But, if he held any discomfort over that fact, it didn't show.

He kept a rather passive gaze as he allowed his hand to trail across the smooth interior wall of the outpost, his eyes carefully examining everything that stood out to him.

The Valkyr that had been stationed in the outpost had left in quite a hurry, it seemed like by the looks of scattered weapons and time eroded armor. As he walked down a corridor his foot caught something on the ground and he felt his weight distribution switch heavily to his left leg as his right rose in response to whatever he had stepped on.

He stopped and turned to kneel and examine what had caused the lapse in his footing and found a leather bound book, with ancient runian writing decorating the center of the cover.

"Jorram Shield-Arm " the cover read.

Máni felt himself freeze over the name. Jorram had been his five times great grandfather, nearly five hundred years ago. He was one of the few Shield-Arms to ever go in search of the ancient Stronghold, though he was never heard from again after he set out on the journey.

If Máni had found his journal, perhaps he could discover what had happened to him.

 

[Vakarian]

The pages of the journal were yellowed and fragile with age. The writing itself was barely legible, but for the most part could still be made out. As his fingers trailed over the lines of the page, his mind was suddenly filled with a rush of fear and defiance.

He gazed up from the journal and found that he was no longer in an abandoned outpost, instead it was very much active; fully armored Valkyr rushing about within the outpost.

Meanwhile, he was sitting and writing in his journal, in the ancient script of the Valkyri. His eyes followed each stroke and movement of his writing intently, able to read everything he wrote as he wrote it.

"the ice demons have come down from the mountains. Even now we hear their dread march upon Snowwatch Valley outpost, I fear that I have brought death on my kin when I fled the mountain.

The demons were waiting for me, they had been watching me for many leagues as I began my journey from Tháinbroek. They somehow knew of my intent to find Shield-Arm Stronghold, but they did not want me to find it. I believe that I have found the pathway to the Stronghold of my ancestors l, but the ice demons rose from the snow covered ground and gave chase.

They have followed me down the mountain. I have brought ruin to my kin, but we are Valkyr and we will not flee. If we are to die, we will die well, fighting and achieving Béornskald. We will dine at Odiirs table with our family once more "

His eyes looked up once more and he was thrust back into the present by an unseen force and gone was the feeling of fear and defiance. It had been replaced instead with confusion.

"What in the Gods name was that?" his breathing labored slightly from a sudden decrease in his energy. It took him only moments before he came to the conclusion that the Gods bad gifted him with a vision of his five times grandfather's last moments.

That would explain why no one had heard from him after his journey, and it would certainly explain why the outpost had been abandoned. The ice demons that his Jorram spoke of would certainly describe the Vinterbound. They were a relentless and dreaded evil.

A deep and untamed anger flared within Máni as yet another of his family members had been killed by the Vinterbound and their mindless cruelty. He hated the creatures and had a burning desire to see them eradicated completely, even going so far as to doing it himself.

A work of Velkar, those creatures were. Designed to do nothing more than cause loss and pain. They deserved to be eradicated and destroyed for all the damages they had done.

As his mind calmed however, he realized that his judgment was not that of the Gods, but influenced by the unseen workings of Velkar the dark. He would not give in to the God of mischief and lies. He was a servant of Helm, Lord of Justice, and he would bring Justice to the Vinterbound.

 

[Vakarian]

His faith in his Gods was paramount to who he was as a member of his society; many of whom considered him as a priest due to his absolute devotion and surety of and to his gods. It wasn't the first time he had been equated to such among his people, but never so much as he had been considered one than the time he had run into Einarr Warscream; a zealous and avid supporter of the more traditional and ancient ways of the Valkyri people.

He found his lips forming an amused smirk rising from the corners and meeting at the center into a full blown smile that admittedly looked quite foolish with him being alone in the abandoned outpost. A smile at the memory of his encounter with the zealous Warscream, whose name was well earned by his personal views in the direction that the Valkyri people were taking.

Máni didn't approve of course, but he certainly did value the Valkyr man as a being who only wanted the best for his own people. He found that Warscream had earned his respect at the least in that regard, if only because he truly thought his chosen path was the better one for the Valkyr as a whole. But, then again every crusader shared the same belief, that their chosen path was the one most beneficial to their respective peoples. A trait that was not lost to Máni himself, for he too believed that he was following the proper path for his people by following the Heavenshields to a brighter future.

"Hypocrisy." he scoffed to himself with another smirk teasing at the corner of his lips.

It was only then that he became aware of the unsettling silence that had descended upon the outpost, a silence that seemed to give rise to a feeling in the pit of his stomach, as though it was the calm before a fierce, height-of-winter, storm that his homeworld was so keenly known for.

He turned swiftly, placing Jorram's journal in his pack before making his way down the right corridor, believing it to hold an ancient armory. It seemed that the Gods would favor him yet again, as he found a weapons room with ancient Valkyri blades, heavily weathered by countless ancient battles as well as the effects of time. Even still, the blades held their durability and as he gripped a short-sword of average make and quality, he turned and left; leaving the rest of the ancient relics undisturbed.

It was as he was passing through the central room once again that he realized that the silence had becoming deafening, so much so that one could hear their own blood rushing through their veins. The uneasiness passed through him once again, this time accompanied by a dark cloud teasing at the edges of his mind, threatening to spill out in one massive sweep..

 

[Vakarian]

Spill out, it did.

The silence that caused so much uneasiness shattered by the frightened and fearful cries of the beasts of the Valley. It was the type of cry that sent ones skin crawling and the airs on every inch of their body standing on end. It was the cry of creatures that feared death had come; and it had.

Máni became faintly aware of life forms at the edge of the Valley, though their presence, in relation to his own, was significantly diminished. It was a presence he had only felt one other time in his life, on the very day that his parents were killed. It was the Vinterbound. An assumption quickly proven by the shuffling of snow and debris as the creatures felk upon the outpost with deadly intent.

It wasn't a swift destruction, but rather slowed and drawn out, in many ways making it the worst of the two dooms. If a swift and aggressive action had been taken, the Valkyri warrior would know what to expect, but this was the careful and uncaring patience of the dead. They were in no hurry to get to him, they had the outpost surrounded, made evident by the shuffling and beating behind him as well.

To say that he did not fear these creatures would have been a lie, but it was a controlled fear, one that did not diminish his ability to think of a way out of his current situation. Fortunately, the Valkyr were a strong and cunning people, a trait that was not lost on Máni.

He vaguely remembered a dilapidated tower on the second level of the outpost, with a rather large opening that faced the mountain itself.

"That is my way out." He thought to himself as he sprang into action, grabbing his furs and replacing them upon his shoulders as he darted towards the second level.

He turned up the weathered staircase of oak and nimbly ascended them until he met the doorframe that led to his salvation. He turned his glacial gaze behind him as a crash on the floor below that rumbled through the very foundations of the outpost.

The Vinterbound had broken through the exterior walls and were inside the outpost.

He quickened his pace and within moments he found himself standing in the very open tower that he had seen before entering the outpost. He turned his gaze down and crouched low as the Vinterbound funneled into the opening they had created.

As soon as the last had passed through into the outpost, he leapt from the tower. His boots met little resistance as the snow carried him down the slanted roof of the ancient structure and he vaulted forward, aiding by the gifts of the Gods and landed in a roll that brought him standing tall again.

With a single gaze back at the outpost and the place that his five times grandfather had met his doom, he turned and began his journey up the mountain.

He felt in his spirit that he was growing close to his family's ancient home...

 

[Vakarian]

The elements themselves seemed to resist the young Valkyri warrior's resolve to discover his ancestral home; wind and snow howling in defiance of his footing through the mountain pass. The mountain itself seemed to want to prevent his finding his way through its fury, but he was an Acolyte of Helm, he would not allow the elements to resist him. So, he fought on, hunkering down into his furs and shielding his face from the sharp bite of the cold. The mountain would not delay him, not when it was he who walked with the Gods.

Glacial gaze hardened in internal defiance of the mountain and its fury. He was Valkyri, he lived in defiance of Midvinter and all she saw fit to throw at him. He would not be frightened by her fury, not so close to his own legacy. He would not turn tail, neither would he fear what lay in wait for him beyond the wintry wall of wind and snow.

"I am not afraid of you." his voice rang out in a shout of potent defiance to the forces that attempted to keep him at bay. "I am a servant of Helm, Lord of Justice and War, I walk with the favor of the Gods and I will overcome your trial."

His faith was unyielding and untarnished. He was an avid and devout believer in the Valkyri gods and their presence in the lives of their followers. It was a central part of who he was as a person and if that were to be taken from him, it would shatter his persona; he would have no purpose.

His faith seemed to please the Gods as the elements seemed to calm around him and the wind became nothing more than a light breeze that caressed his skin in the manner of a loving parent. A satisfied smile teased at the corners of his lips until it eased into a full grin. His footing quickened and his purpose had been renewed.

There were no more elements to resist him. Even at the distance that he was, he could see what appeared to be the outline of a tower, a banner waving lazily in the breeze that crossed the long abandoned fortress. His glacial gaze brightened as he realized what he had found, the home of his anscestors, Shield-Arm Stronghold.

However, his mind was quickly turned from the tower as a column of smoke rose from within the Stronghold. A fact that struck Máni as out of place. His original gleeful gaze changed into one of alert caution and a careful gait took place of his hastened footing.

Something was wrong within the stronghold, he could feel dozens upon dozens of life forms. A chill was sent down his spine as he realized the familiarity of the life forms that he had felt within his gods-gifted senses; the Vinterbound were here.