The blizzard was dense, the path covered with a thick layer of snow. The visibility was nil and the footprints of a mann advancing painfully quickly faded behind him.
The storm had suddenly fallen on the valley and the mann crossing it had resolved to walk along the course of the icy water, hoping to find refuge in a hamlet by the river. After long hours of struggle against the cold and the wind, he lost hope and collapsed with fatigue.
As he felt his strength leaving him, he tried in a desperate momentum to get up and gave a cry of rage as if to defy that merciless nature threatening him with death. As an answer to his challenge, a shadow appeared to him, massive and threatening.
Advancing at a good pace even in the heart of the blizzard, not seeming to worry about the weather. It was adorned with huge horns, multiple branches and inexorably approached.
The heart of the poor man had stopped beating, if the cold did not have the best of him, this creature will. Before seeing his doom come, he sank into unconsciousness ...
A gentle warmth grew in him, almost unreal. For a moment he wondered if he was dead. Then came out of his sleep a strong smell of grilled meat and an inviting scent of honey. A massive man, a square face framed by a beard and braided red hair, waved a dish under his nose to wake him up. Armed with a carnivorous smile and yet strangely friendly. He stuffed the dish in his arms accompanied by a large mug of mead filled to the brim. The man noticed a fur coat behind the giant, it was decorated with various trophies of impressive hunts, including dryas elk antlers. What he took for a monster out there was none other than this immense Brudvir and his savior. Seeing the incredulity and silence of his guest, the mountain of muscle spoke.
I am a Strømsorm, guardian and protector of the Helstrøm estate. Bastion of bravery, hunting and celebration. You can call me Gunnar!
You must surely know the reputation that precedes us!
The traveler nodded while starting to eat, too hungry to take the time to answer him. Incredulous and disappointed, the mastodon could not refrain from filling the gaps survivor's.
Every six years, the most talented and adventurous menn and womenn gather around my home, all ready to prove their bravery and accomplish feats that will be told by future generations, all aspire to become legends ... but especially, Gunnar paused to empty his mug of its contents and resumed while striking the table with it, all come to feast, drink and eat!
The best fighters clash in the arena with their bare hands to win the title of winner of the fist tournament. The best hunters participate in the Great Hunt and challenge themselves to spectacular games of precision and skill. The best bards in the country take the opportunity to come and play in front of the crowd gathered for the event. Sometimes merchants come from all over the continent to display their exotic goods.
He laughed at the young man's lost look, warmly put his hand on his interlocutor's shoulder and stared at him, his eyes gleaming with the reflection of the fire’s hearth.
