Inngangur

01

The Northern Winter that year had been particularly cold and ruthless. Many of the communities had struggled to prepare additional measures to protect against it, but one had a measure more success than most others. A community of humans, of Vikings, with a history of producing great warriors and sailors, and equally experienced farmers and herders. Few communities, in fact, weren't quite as large or diverse as theirs. Unfortunately, it was for this reason that many of their neighbors looked upon them with envy, greed, and even hatred. With the worst being the frost giants' stronghold in the mountains to the East of the Viking town. They had watched for generations as the Viking community grew and prospered, and had coveted the piece of land they'd settled on for nearly as long. Despite many raids against the Vikings, the frost giants had not managed to take what they felt the humans did not deserve.

All that had finally changed though. The frost giants had invaded one last time, with the help of ice golems constructed by a new group of Shamanesses who had recently arrived. The Vikings had been caught completely unaware, and totally unprepared for such an assault. The Ice golems, frost giant berserkers, and even a rain of magic let loose by the Shamanesses. It all combined to form what was almost a death sentence for the entire town. Luckily the warriors and Wise Women among the Vikings were able to cover the escape of the noncombatants, but nearly all of the warriors were wiped out as a result of this new threat, including the Jarl and his Chieftains. Very few were able to escape, as most of the survivors were caught to be either executed or enslaved.

One of those survivors was the town's blacksmith, who had elected to stay and defend his homeland. A decent warrior in his own right, training with the weapons he makes, he'd managed to at least bring down one of the ice golems and a good number of the frost giants before they'd had to scatter and flee. Badly wounded, pushing on despite the pain, the bloodloss, and the chilling cold of a storm of his land that had been whipped up during the battle, the man slowly trudged his way through the forest of winter, aiming to escape from his pursuers. Always the thoughtful one, he was more worried about his fellows, about his family as they escaped via the sea, and about the state of his homeland when the frost giants were done with it. After too long though, pushing his way along for hours on end, he finally collapsed into the edge of the lush green grass of a forest. Hidden by the sparse brush around him, and the water banks which attract smaller waters. Unconscious, he had no way to know that a woman had been watching him collapse along the edge of her forest, an Elf who lived on the outskirts of the elven community to practice her Restoration magic and her alchemy in peace.

~~~

The hooded elven figure placed their hand by his nose and mouth feeling his very faint breathing. Tilting their head down having taken out a vile, opening the top as their hand glows white. The poison being forced into the vile, made the man groan a bit as there was quite a bit of poison. Flowing into the vile with ease as the last drop was put in. Putting the top back on as they removed their hood. The darkness of the forest still hid their eyes the mouth was in a frown as the person lifted his arm. When carrying them through the forest, trees moved aside as it was a woman who carried the heavy man towards a home made from a tree that was large. Opening the door with her foot, the doorway was large enough for any person to walk inside.

"Mae'n rhaid ei fod yn dod o lwyth o'r mynyddoedd lle mae eira... (He must be from a tribe from the snow-tipped mountains...)"

Having walked through the home as she carefully sat him up with her tree roots while removing his armor and fur with her hands. When removed she moves her hand to the salve she made and began to cover the cut on his side, "Sárt... (Hurts...)"

Hearing him mumble this as she did understand the language even though she was very old despite her youthful appearance. She was more careful as he seemed to be in a bit of pain still. Her fingers gently rubbed his wound as she placed some cotton over it and then began to bandage him up so he can heal properly. Two days passed as the elven woman washed and cleaned him. Putting salve on his other smaller cuts along his arms and back. At night she slept in her living area where her furniture was. On the morning of the third day, she had made some food unaware he was to awaken soon.