[MR] A Warrior Arises

[Jonathan Blackbow via Atlantia]

And in the fullness of time didst Baron Mark d'Aubigny and Baroness Alianor
of the Swan come to the end of their Second Reign over Sacred Stone.


This is not that story.


This is the story of what went before.


Long ago, in the mists of time, a young Viking girl sat and watched as the
boys played their "games" of growing to manhood:  wrestling, axe-throwing,
and such like.  And she yearned to participate, but the boys always threw
shade on her aspirations, and mocked her, and excluded her.  So she sat,
and watched, and yearned.


Then one day a grizzled, old, half-crippled Viking warrior saw her as she
sat and watched, and came to her, and said "young one, why do you not run
and tumble and fight and learn?  For surely there is much to learn, and
you'd best be about it."


And the young one mocked him, calling him old, and feeble, and worthless.

And the old man nodded, and said "it's true, I am old and feeble.  But
think you, little one; how many other old, and feeble warriors see you
here?"  And she looked around, and admitted that she saw none.


And the old man nodded and said, "why think you there are none others?"
And she thought, and admitted that she did not know.


And the old man nodded again, and said "my name is Hrothgar Thorgrimmson,
little one, and my only failure in this life is that I did not succeed in
passing to Valhalla through death in combat.  But I am old and feeble for a
reason.  And that reason is that I have survived wars that have killed all
lesser men."


And the young girl's eyes grew wide, and her heart leapt.  But before she
could speak, two massive black ravens spiraled out of the sky, and landed
on either of the old man's shoulders.  And each of them held an egg, and
they gave the eggs to the old man, and spiraled off again into the sky, on
some other errand.


And the young girl prostrated herself before the old man, who said "no.
Get up.  For I am no god to be worshiped."  And he handed the girl the
eggs, saying, "raise these as your own.  For this will teach you what you
need, to be a warrior, not merely a soldier, like those boys."


And time passed, and she raised the chicks as her own.  Many were the
trials, and long was the counting of days.  But the day came when the young
ravens stood proudly on her shoulders.  And when the boys came from their
play-fighting, and began to mock her anew, for their ignorance was truly
profound, the ravens leapt into the air and drove them back shrieking in
terror.  And they returned to the girl's shoulders with their talons red
with blood.


And the girl gave them names that day, and ever after they were called
Hraustr, which means tenacious, and Thra, which means implacable.  Her name
was Hrefna, and ever after, her name was spoken in awe as Hrefna in rauda
Thorgrimsdottir, for Thorgrim took her into his clan.  And her sigil was
two red ravens above a single axe.


And now you know why the name and the sign are feared throughout the world.


And in the days to come, you will know more.  For this tale is merely at a
beginning.


Jonathan Blackbow