Something sired in the Ironbreaker, news of the north about another great battle now filled him with a mixture of emotions. The news was brought to him by a group of Njords that was trying to rough him up admittedly, but the news did seem genuine. it had been too long since he had been home, years of fighting in the south for the petty lords and ladies of Rogalia, then a long stop here in this Stragosa had softened him. He had only been reminded of his weakness by The Undying who had come with true northern fire in her heart. He had forgotten what it means to be Rimelander, had it been right after his branding he would have slaughter those poor fools who had tried to do him harm and wore their heads on his belt for the rest of market, but he had grown merciful and soft, he had eaten their sweet food, drunk their grape wines, and made friends with them. He was even willingly going to their Convocations.
Tightening his armor as he left the Blackjack hall he had a mask of displeasure on his face, with the words of a Gothic Noble still ringing in his head “Anyone can legally kill you Bjorn”, He smiled let them try. After all he had done for this place he was and always would be an outsider after his death for the town, and his constant fights to keep everyone safe last market he had lead the charge into battle and was the first into battle, but they still only saw the painted outsider, of course that is his path. To struggle was his people’s way, struggle was their purpose, we have laid it all on the line so we could keep our freedom from the rulership of soft southlanders. The Throne had everything to their advantage but for the last 30 years his people had kept their lands and their ways whole, with axe and shield they had turned back southern armies, they had been laid low first by the ice and snow then finished like an exhausted deer that had been ran down by the wolf pack.
Now his heart was pumping fast and sounds and voices pressed against his ears until it hurt his head. He tasted and smelled blood and realized he had chewed his lip again. His eyes were moving fast and searching for a enemy to slay, the crowed streets with their noise and smell only heightened his fury and bloodlust, he heard a scream in the distance and his mind took him back to the night of slaughter were he unleashed upon defeated foes and got to know the darkness within him. A man dressed all in black like the rest of the people around him asked him if he needed a priest Bjorn laughed in his face, the man scurried away saying something about sins.
What do sins matter for a Branded Man of the North? Sins are how you mark the world with your power and will. the only sins that matter are sins that could tarnished your name, that is what his father had taught him as a boy. That is what they could never understand, or refused to understand. still shaking with rage he walked into the Metalli building ignoring all of his friends and walked to only consent good thing in this entire world, his forge. tossing extra fuel on the fire enjoying the blast of heat and sparks he channeled his endless rage into his work, and the world was drowned out in a blast of metal on metal and the roar of flames.
