Vidar, Jepi, Thorodd, Ragna and Einar all sat at a small stone table, looking over the reports that had been handed out.

  “So… you’re willing to trade all of these reagents?” Jepi asked. “I mean… we are your warriors, but surely you can’t plan on giving away all of this stuff.”

  “I’m not giving it away,” Einar replied. “We need better equipment and each of us knows it will be months, perhaps even a year before we return home. Transporting bones we’ll not need or paying to store them isn’t worth it when we can trade them for weapons and armor that can keep us alive.”

  “I know… but all we would have left is… six reagents.”

  “Look at the cost of those six staying here,” Thorodd said. “You do realize we haven’t even met Gromm yet and what Bartia gave us for prices is like being bent over and abused by a troll... And not one from our realm, but from Alfheim.”

  “So then what is the plan?” Vidar asked. “Food isn’t cheap and the provisions we have won’t allow us to stay here for more than a week before we’ll have to consider dipping into our emergency rations or purchasing from here. These prices would wipe out any excess gold we have.”

  Einar looked at their other caster who sat there, casually flipping through the pages he had been given.

  “Any thoughts?”

  “Just one. I’m glad I’m not required to have any opinion. The weight of leadership is heavy and while I appreciate you bringing me in on this, we both know I’m not foolish enough to try and think I know better. In the little time I’ve known you, Einar Sibbinson, you already have a plan and I’m certain you’re about to tell us it now that you have scared us all like children.”

  Smiling, he nodded and unfolded the piece of paper he had been hiding.

  “That’s what I love about you, Ragna. Thinking with your bigger brain.”

  Grunts came from the two pack leaders and Thorodd chuckled.

  “Avitue, Osvif, Thorve, and one man from each of your pack are currently working with Bartia to find the best deal on equipment. Most of what we’d acquire is going to only fit a few of us as even the smallest dwarf is taller than me. Weapons are usable by everyone, but we also need a few items for our wagons, and we are trying to find a smith who can repair our harpoons.

  “Depending on when Gromm finally invites us into his hall, we’ll have to leave in five days. I’m well aware of our food problems and have already spoken with the wagon leaders. They will decrease the amount of food cooked each day. You will need to inform your warriors not to complain. The good news is they get to train less as well. Rest, recover, don’t get drunk, and don’t go out into the city. We’re going to keep everyone within the two buildings and the grounds we have been given.

  “I need all of the materials on the first two pages I gave you sorted and laid out. Bartia will have dwarves coming by tomorrow to inspect and make offers. She’ll run point for us on those trades, hoping to get a slightly better deal than if we did it ourselves.”

  “And if she can’t?” Jepi asked.

  “Then we take what we can. I already got some intel back from our dwarven friend and what is moving around in the mountain pass isn’t going to be fun.”

  He put the list in the middle of the table so that all four men could read it.

  ***

  Stone-Thithe Troll

  Nio-Schreecher Bat

  Slag-Golem

  Hrim-Lindworms

  Verdandi’s Leech

  ***

  “Dear Odin, you can’t be serious,” Ragna said quietly. “Verdandi’s leeches?”

  “Uh… I’m not familiar with those.” Vidar stated. “I mean, I know what a leech is but what do those do?”

  “Drink wyrd… a caster’s worst nightmare,” their oldest runecaster replied. “I mean… I’ve read about them and heard ancient stories about how a few can incapacitate a wyrd user before anyone can save them. Even someone like you is at risk, though they often target Vikings like me, Einar, Thorve, or any other caster.”

  “So… we just kill them?”

  Shaking his head, Einar frowned.

  “We’re trying to see if Bartia can find some containers for them. If we can capture a few of them alive, it will make removing a rune ten times easier. They’re highly desired but most won’t venture into them when found because of the danger they present.”

  “Why is that?” Vidar asked.

  “Because there are usually a few hundred or more and each one is about the length of your hand.”

  You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

  Grunting, the Viking made a gagging sound. “That doesn’t sound pleasant at all. What else?”

  Einar continued through the list, describing the potential enemies they might face and why each one made them stronger.

  ***

  “You are well informed about rune materials,” Ranga said as he and Einar sat around the table alone. “What kind of runecrafter shares the knowledge you possess so freely? Even the one in our city doesn’t do more than describe the item or material they are looking for. You… you know exactly what they are used for.”

  “I have a runecrafter who believes in what we are doing and wanted to make sure I understood why I would need to charge into a horde of leeches while others might just avoid them,” Einar replied. “You know about the Slag-Golem. If we can acquire the gem inside it, you know of the kind of rune that could be made from it.”

  The runecaster nodded, rubbing his left arm with his hand.

  “I know exactly the rune I’d ask for and the one I’d replace. Still… that kind of power shouldn’t come cheap. Why not get a lesser core?”

  “Because we will face things where eight basic or intermediate runes won’t be enough. You know the power of a single advanced rune. Would you be content to pass on a chance for something like this?”

  Sighing, Ranga shook his head.

  “You’re playing a game far different from any I expected. Each day you seem to bet everything, yet you manage to always win. Tell me, when you lose, how will you handle that loss?”

  “I’ve lost a few times,” Einar replied. “Death has come and I have felt the pain of each one. Yet Ragnarok is coming. You know it even if others do not like to acknowledge it.

  “Each house we passed today showed us a city that is missing a third of its people. Alfheim was the same way. Yet our willingness to die and face what others fear has spurred the elves into action. I expect in the coming year for a few envoys to come into our land and trade. Hopefully, this will pressure Eric to see that he cannot sit back and do nothing.”

  Ragna frowned, eyes studying his cup after Einar spoke those last words.

  “You… are treading on dangerous ground. Do not worry, Unnulf and I have spoken and we both believe that you are on the right path. What scares me more is what will happen if the King does not alter his course.”

  Neither spoke for a moment as each knew the potential conflict that might arise.

  “Let’s discuss something else,” Einar said. “What can I do to help Osvif with his wyrd and the use of his power? Avitue has managed to tap into hers. All it took was Bartia almost dying.”

  The runcaster snorted and nodded.

  “We Vikings are a bit temperamental and emotional. That raw power and rage, combined with our emotions, sometimes allows us to do the impossible. You mentioned that when I overheard about how you sliced a troll in half with a lightning axe.”

  Groaning, he nodded.

  “Yes… that Viking did not like the punishment I gave him. Still, you’re correct. Each time I’ve improved my control and done what you describe as impossible, it has been around moments like that.”

  “Which is your problem,” Ragna replied. “Do you think when I cast I am always angry or fearful for my life?”

  “I’m going to say no based on how you worded that.”

  “Correct. There was a time, back when I was like you. Anger was what allowed me to focus and that rage allowed me to draw deeper from the wyrd inside me. Eventually, I learned it wasn’t just primal rage or emotions. A time will come when you must be in control and cannot let those things take over.

  “Let me ask it this way. When you faced that undead horde and died, you waded in there like a crazed man from what you told me. All you cared about was ending as many of the undead as you could while your warriors escaped. But was that the best solution? Did you really need to charge so deep into the thick of them that death was your only option? Could you have instead held back that line, providing a way to escape for yourself? Surely even you, the mighty Einar Sibbison, cannot be so strong that death is something you can take without fear of what will happen to your runes?”

  Not like the rest of you… Odin’s gift I guess does make me a bit reckless.

  “You’re correct. I’ve been a bit too reckless when I enter that state. Even against the rats I was overconfident. So what do I need to do? How can I help Osvif?”

  Ragna sighed and picked up his cup. Lifting it to his lips, he took a small drink. Then he slowly pulled it away from them, letting the liquid pour into his mouth. Some of it splashed off his face, making a mess on the table and himself. After a few seconds, he turned the cup upright and swallowed.

  “Tell me, did both of those ways of drinking work?”

  “Yes.”

  “But one would be preferred, especially depending upon the situation and the drink I am spilling. You and I are glad it is simply water, not wine or ale. One would be messier while not being fit for a meeting with someone like Gromm. You must learn what works for you and when each is needed. I cannot help with the lightning side as you are only one of two casters I know of who were… foolish… brave… I’m not sure what to have one. Rage is supposedly the only way to call upon it and even then I have heard it is impossible to control. Fire is able to be done both ways.”

  Holding up a finger, Ragna created an orange flame that surrounded it.

  Sweat began to form quickly as the flame grew shorter and changed color until a small blue outline of fire surrounded his finger.

  He let it go as quickly as it appeared, taking a deep breath and exhaling.

  “There was no anger, no hate. I simply focused on it, forcing myself to make it happen. But…”

  Trailing off, the same finger appeared, and an orange flame surrounded it. It was quickly replaced by a blue one that wasn’t as refined. A scowl covered Ragna’s face and his eyes were narrowed as the runecaster stared at Einar.

  With a flick of his finger, the flame vanished.

  “You were angry,” Einar said. “About what?”

  “That is for me and me alone,” Ragna replied. “When I need it there is one thing that allows me to do that quickly but it wears me out so much faster. How you manage to hold on as long as you do is a sign of the immense amount of wyrd inside you. When you learn to control it, not allowing yourself to burn through it, you’ll be able to last longer.”

  Einar nodded, holding up a finger and watching as orange flames covered it.

  “I swear if that turns blue right now, I’m going to throw what’s left in my cup at you,” Ranga said.

  Laughing, Einar watched as the flame danced, the fire flickering and felt a different sensation from how his wyrd was being drawn.

  “Perhaps you should drink that quickly,” he said, grinning from ear to ear. “I’d rather not get wet if I didn’t have to.”