The snowflakes danced in the air, casting a serene silence over the mountainous landscape of Nørhaven. Kael, along with his patrol team of guards, rode their horses through the knee-deep snow, their eyes scanning the horizon for any signs of trouble.As they approached the foot of the mountain, they heard the sound of screams and clashing steel. Kael's instincts kicked in, and he urged his horse forward, his hand on the hilt of his sword.As they crested a small hill, they saw a group of villagers, armed with pitchforks and clubs, fighting off a band of Rån, the Norse bandits that roam the wilderness and mountains preying on travelers and villagers, who had descended upon them like a plague. The villagers were vastly outnumbered, and it was clear they wouldn't last much longer.Kael charged into battle, his sword flashing in the fading light. His guards followed close behind, their own swords and shields at the ready. The sound of clashing steel and the screams of the Rån filled the a

The lands of Vanaheim and Alfheim, had long enjoyed a fragile peace, but the sudden surge of bandit raids had shattered the calm. The marauders, driven by the dark force the Mórka, had been leaving a trail of destruction and terror in their wake.As the news of the raids spread, the rulers of the realms began to stir. The konungr of Vanaheim, King Magni, sent word to the Hersir of Nørhaven, requesting a meeting to discuss the growing threat. The Hersir, agreed to receive the konungr and his war leaders.The meeting took place in the great hall of Nørhaven, the walls adorned with the banners of the various realms. The konungr of Alfheim, King Frey, was present, along with his war leader, the fearless Skald. The konungr of Nørhaven, King Harald, sat at the head of the table, his eyes fixed intently on the maps spread out before them.As the meeting began, the Hersir outlined the gravity of the situation. "The Mórka's influence spreads, corrupting the hearts of men and turning them into

Without warning, the ship's captain shouted out, "Land á síðu!" ("Land in sight!"), his voice piercing the morning air.Kael was jolted out of his dream, Eira's voice whispering in his ear. He sat up with a start, his heart racing.Vigdis emerged from the ship's quarters, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. "What's all the commotion about?" he asked, his voice gruff.Kael stood up, stretching his limbs. "The captain's spotted land."The two friends walked out of the ship's quarters, gazing out at the island looming on the horizon."What is this place?" Kael asked the captain.The captain nodded. "This is the island of Lýsingur, a few miles' ride from the stronghold of Útgarðar."Kael's eyes narrowed. "We'll build our tents here."The Norse warriors set to work, erecting their tents with swift efficiency. The tents of Alfheim, Vanaheim, and Nørhaven were pitched in a semicircle, their banners flapping in the wind.Kael led his horse, Svart, off the ship, holding the reins in one hand and