Pathfinder 1E Crowns of Ice - A Tale of Blood and Betrayal - II

[section]~ Eben had remained silent during the exchange between The Sea King and his loyal subjects. The younger brother had to admit that when push came to shove, Thorir had a natural knack for setting the pushing aside and reminding the crew that they either prospered or sank together. In Thorir, Eben saw a true leader, the man who should sit upon the throne of Grandael and rule in their father's stead.

Yet, with such sanguine courage and passion, Eben sometimes worried that his kin was too bold, too self-assured. While Eben Marenson may have had concerns and troubles, they were only ever for the betterment of himself and the crew: to be cautious was not the same as to be a coward, and to heed the songs of The Gods was not akin to begging them for everything a man could receive. Odin may not have troubled himself over his prophesized death to Fenrir, but that did not mean it unconcerned him entirely.

It only further highlighted how despite their similarities, the two brothers had grown up in different environments: Thorir had been born and raised to lead, to carry sword and word together to conquer men's lands and minds. Eben, meanwhile, had been instilled with a similar fire but told to burn quietly, for his light was an abomination to others. Though he expressed himself in the stanzas of glory, Eben himself was never quite sure how to understand the songs. And what of the Demiurge and the Unifier? That God that Eben had lived in the lands of for most of his life, the one he perhaps knew more of and yet at the same time understood even less? Eben worried because at the end of the day, he was no Thor: he was a mortal man who could be killed and thrown into the dark ocean long before he ever faced his Jǫrmungandr. Wyrd or not, Eben knew this was a possibility: he just wasn't sure if his brother did.

When the call came to arm and the crew dispersed, the youngest son of Volund shook his head slightly.

" I swear, some days were it not for you, these vikingr would tear one another apart in their suspicions and squabbles," he lamented before breaking a smile and patting Thorir affectionately on the shoulder.

" So long as you stay at the helm, though, I can't imagine anything befalling us that we could not overcome. I will see to the preparations, make sure the men are ready for a fight."

With that, Eben went to follow the rest of the crew on the snekkja, checking over axes, shields, and spears alike and making sure that the oars were ready for when the pursuit came. He gave a look back to his brother, pondering.

King of The Sea, and Fearless of Fate. Would that our temperaments were reversed, that I might have made a different life for myself and her.

He shook his thoughts and went back to overseeing their planned raid, praying that Odin would guide their spears to a swift victory on Njord's domain. ~[/section]

[sblock=Eben's Stats]Character Sheet

HP: 30/30
Condition: Normal
Initiative: +1
Perception: +8
[sblock=Combat Stats]AC: 17 Flat: 16 Touch: 11
Fort: 5 Reflex: 2 Will: 5

In Hand: Nothing

Masterwork Longsword: +7, 1d8+3, 19-20/x2
Composite Longbow: +4 1d8+3, 20/x3, 110. ft.
Arrows: 40/40[/sblock]
[sblock=Spells & Powers]Cantrips: Unlimited
Dancing Lights
Know Direction
Mage Hand
Message
Prestidigitation
Read Magic

Level 1: 4/Day
Horn of Pursuit
Moment of Greatness
Read Weather
Timely Inspiration
Windy Escape

Level 2: 2/Day
Invisibility
Mirror Image

Skald Abilities:
Raging Song: 18/18 Rounds Remaining
Powerful Blow: 1/1 Per Day
Born Free: 1/1 Per Day[/sblock]
[sblock=Adventure Notes]Transactions:
Total Coin: 28.03 GP

Game Info:[/sblock][/sblock]

THORIR/EBEN

The men deliver themselves entirely to the task, and soon enough the bad blood disappears under laughter and bravados. Some men pray to Njörd, others to Tyr, two of them raise strange and festive chants to foreign Perkele, while two more join the melody reminding themselves of Thor. Distinct faces brought together by ambition and made brothers, despite their differences.

Soon enough, a solid batch of arrows is ready, the shields are fastened and ready, the lances, treated, swords and axes, sharpened. Young Asger crosses the mob to reach the brothers. As he approaches, he reaches for his belt, taking a dagger from it, sheathed into it’s scabbard. He places it before Eben.

“I got this on our murian incursion…” – he says. “I think it’s stronger than usual. Dented ours quite easily. It would mean a lot to me if you kept it, Eben.” – as he gifts the dagger to the skald, he looks down, never raising his eyes towards the other.

[MENTION=2820]Fenris[/MENTION] [MENTION=8058]Queenie[/MENTION] [MENTION=6855204]tglassy[/MENTION] [MENTION=6855130]Jago[/MENTION]

[section]~ Eben looked down upon the seax, knowing the sting of such a blade: Thorir had dragged the younger brother back to the ship after one such knife had lodged itself into his thigh during that raid, hobbling him until such time as he beseeched a priestess of Freyja to mend his leg.

" This is quite the gift, Asger. Are you quite certain you wish to part with it? You are with this crew as well: as any man here, you are entitled to what you take."

When it became clear that the young warrior (even younger than Eben, somehow) would not relent, the Skald took the weapon graciously, tying the scabbard to his own belt over his mail, shifting it to lay horizontally against the small of his back. Laying his hands upon Asger's shoulders, Eben bid him to lift his eyes.

" Your generosity makes you a terrible viking," he declared, shaking his head softly.

The Poet grinned suddenly, giving the teen a light slap on the cheek and ruffling his hair, as if one would with a younger sibling.

" But it makes you a great man. Tusen takk, Asger: I shall wield this with pride."

Stepping back a bit as the ship rocked against a sudden burst of wind, Eben steadied himself against the deck and drew the knife to look it over, remarking that the craftsmanship was certainly not commonly seen in The North: perhaps in the lands of dvergr, whose forges crafted the mighty weapons of Odin and his ilk. Yet, for as far as he had traveled, Eben had never seen the blades and mail of dwarves: who was to say he was not holding one now?

Eben replaced the knife back into its sheathe, instead pulling out his lyre once more. His shield rested still on the rack of the ship, bracing against the wind and waves, axe and blade at their proper place at his side. Thoughts of dvergr and magic, of fanciful items and untold powers left him wistful for stories once more. Slowly, the notes came from his fingers, a simple melody that had been taught to him long ago. Staccato, rhythmic plucks of the string coaxed the vessel along, whispers in tongues older than Man lending a touch of magic to his performance: each new note caused a bead of solid gold to materialize from the vibrating string, falling quickly from the pull of the earth. The tears shaped themselves into beautiful rings of radiant metal, only to shatter into nothingness once they struck the hard wood under Eben's feet.

Odin would bury his son with a ring of gold, a ring that would birth eight more of its shape every ninth day. But no gift of endless wealth would bring back Baldur. Hopefully, in chasing such fortunes, Eben did not have to bury his own brother in kind. For now, there was only the Sea, the Ship, and the Woman they were about to meet that would weave the threads of fate together for all three of them, and more. ~

[/section]

[sblock=Eben's Stats]Character Sheet

HP: 30/30
Condition: Normal
Initiative: +1
Perception: +8
[sblock=Combat Stats]AC: 17 Flat: 16 Touch: 11
Fort: 5 Reflex: 2 Will: 5

In Hand: Nothing

Masterwork Longsword: +7, 1d8+3, 19-20/x2
Composite Longbow: +4 1d8+3, 20/x3, 110. ft.
Arrows: 40/40[/sblock]
[sblock=Spells & Powers]Cantrips: Unlimited
Dancing Lights
Know Direction
Mage Hand
Message
Prestidigitation
Read Magic

Level 1: 4/Day
Horn of Pursuit
Moment of Greatness
Read Weather
Timely Inspiration
Windy Escape

Level 2: 2/Day
Invisibility
Mirror Image

Skald Abilities:
Raging Song: 18/18 Rounds Remaining
Powerful Blow: 1/1 Per Day
Born Free: 1/1 Per Day[/sblock]
[sblock=Adventure Notes]Transactions:
Total Coin: 28.03 GP

Game Info:[/sblock][/sblock]

Thorir smiled as Asger presented the dagger to Eben. He could have made claim to it, but the manner in which it was presented touched him. He knew Asger looked up to Eben. The boy was a solid warrior, but his heart wasn't in it like most of the others. Perhaps he had a knack for poetry too, or learning, or maybe even Seidr. Thorir made a mental note to talk to the lad later, see where his heart lay. While every man on a snekkja needed to fight to some degree, there was always a need for men with other skills, be it carpentry, languages, or other skills. If Asger had an inclination towards a book or a lyre more than a sword, he would make sure the lad learned what he needed.

Thorir listened with the rest of the crew as Eben plucked out his tune. He watched Eben as he played, he didn't stop him but thought that wasn't exactly the best tune to play before a raid. Still he knew Eben's songs came from his heart and so he made no mention. After the last notes fell away, Thorir made he way to the stern of the ship. There he relieved the helmsman and held the tiller as was his rightful place as captain of the snekkja.

It wasn't long before he called out "Sail Ho!" As the prey appeared on the horizon. The other ship was headed from the east and was having to tack with the wind. Their own ship, headed north, had the wind with them. Both ships were headed to the same port to the east around a long promontory. Their prey would have to tack around it, Thorir's ship would not, they could sail past the promontory straight to the port if they wished.

As the ships drew slowly closer Thorir called out "Oars at the ready!" as the men took to their benches and prepared to deploy the oars. Thorir nodded to Eben to start a rowing cadence. While a drum was traditional, Eben was skilled enough that he managed on a lyre.

Thorir's eye was trained on the ship, the promontory and his own sail. Estimating speeds and timing as he went. They were close enough now that he could see the distinctive prow he had been told to look for. Thorir judged they had the right of it and made the call. He pulled on the tiller and the prow swung quickly to the west, pointing just before the promontory. "Oars out!" he called. The sound of wood sliding on wood rang out along both sides of the ship. The oars hit the water with a splash as the men quickly matched rhythm. The snekkja picked up speed quickly under both sail and oar. With their current direction it would still seem as though they were headed to port, at least until it was too late.

[Thanks for the queue, guys! I’m transferring all posts to Astrid’s thread, ok? Meet you there!
P.S.: Jago, reading the thread with the song you added was truly inspiring!]