The Arrival [1]

[Drachenfel 2]

 

 

THE ARRIVAL

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The storm was passing. It had broken a few oars, and cut a few of the braces tied to the sail, but the men stood resolute. The winds were roaring from the south; a bad omen, the common folk said. But these weren’t common folk. They were the chosen of the Ulvegr, the chosen of Bykrimr, and had a mission. They would find Atlas, whatever the cost.

These men had prepared for this journey for months, years even. They had gathered all around the bonfire of the great hall of Bastagr, some of them coming down from the mountains and into the valley for the first time in their lives. The gathering of a century, the elders called it. The decision was made that they’d expand the reach of the Ulvegr race in Bykrimr’s homeland, the land of magic and gods where the Descendants walked. And now they found themselves in one of the boats.

 

“LAND.” cried Haraldr, the navigator. His voice squeaked with both dehydration and excitement. They could spot a large island in the distance, with hills that drastically went up in an unnatural manner. The folk began to mutter about the presence of magic in the area as soon as the formations became clearly visible to the crew. The lord captain Yungir calmed them.

 

“This is it, my fellows, this is the destination. Welcome home, say the gods, let’s meet them.”

 

...

 

Suddenly the smell of whale grease and fish had become sweet, and the perilous winds had become breezes of romance, the people had begun to fidget nervously. The oncoming silhouette of the island harkening back to the first hours after they had sailed from land. Four months. Four months they sailed. An entire autumn sailing. Some of the women had to leave their children behind, some of the men their wives. But here was the chance of something new, of a chance to walk among the gods and to experience the magic that had given birth to legendary king Bykrimr, and the homeland of the fabled dragons, which had wrought the lands of the Ulvegr.

 

“It was true, in the end, young eye.” Grumbled Haraldr as he walked down the rows of seats, approaching Yungir. “Those old maps told the truth, here I thought they were works of mad old men.” The response he got was a scoff, followed by a quiet chuckle by the young captain. Yungir was a tall man, son of Szeveryc, the king of Bastagr. Copper-hair, deep blue eyes, traditionally braided hair and a large, ornamented beard. He tugged to the white bear fur he had hunted as a rite for a good and successful journey. Haraldr gazed at Yungr for a long time, he himself had aged quite a bit on the trip, with his grey hair having turned pearly white, but he was focused on getting the new generation safely. He was the last of the Greythorns, One last addition to our legacy, thought the wise Haraldr.

 

Land was now just a few minutes away, and now they could see the rest of the continent; it wasn’t just one island, it was what they had hoped for, a large realm. They could even see some people fishing at the shores, who scurried off at the sight of the foreign ships. They had arrived.

 

Haraldr smiled.

 

[1]

[gregorysantos 0]

Cool post, excited to see some Vikings raiding the shores

[Logic301X 0]

Sounds fun :)

[Slothtastic 761]

Oof. What culture is this one?

[Drachenfel 2]

5 hours ago, Slothtastic said:

Oof. What culture is this one?

The accepted and implemented Ulvegr, deeply entrenched in human history since Aegis, Asulon and Anthos when they lived under Bykrimr, who was lord of house Mournstone, it held many titles like duke and protector during anthos. It was also one of the civilizations in Norland with Lily Mournstone and her children.

[Burnsy 437]

Moved to The Great Library. It shall be sorted into the appropriate category shortly.

 

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