Coldlands

Prologue

The wind howls through a forest in Northern Europe, the snow was a couple feet high, and in the distance a light. It's mid winter, most predators are asleep for the winter and the weather prevents any long distance travel. Winter is always a peaceful time, men are drinking in the hall and children sitting by the fire, eagerly awaiting to hear more tales of Sonkar the Fearless and his adventures in the spring.

A man approaches a small hut. Standing at the entrance and the man adjusts his wolf pelt that adorns his head. The man was dress in wool clothing, a face covered in scars; battleworn. A deep voice beckons from within the hut; "Enter Ragarr". Ragarr pauses for second, takes a deep breath and enters the hut.

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"We cannot fund an expedition of this magnitude Ragarr!", exclaimed one of the three Chieftains The hut was warm and cozy, three men sat around a fire as Ragarr stands before them. "The Coldlands are merely a myth! Legend! Our boats have never gone that far out into the Sea of Ice!". Ragarr kneels before the three Chieftains who are adorned with several wolf and bear pelts, as well as necklaces with beads on them. These men's faces covered in scars, like Ragarr, they have seen their fare share of battle. Barely in their thirties, these men were chosen by their people to lead. "The Coldlands maybe our last hope...", Ragarr pleaded. "We must continue to expand like the Englishmen to the south!". The Chieftains looked at each other in concern, the English have been a thorn in the Chieftain's side for the last few summers. Stories talk of great siege weapons and artillery that have been sinking the Realic's boats. Traders from the far east talk about Englishmen invading land all over the far south and east. The Chieftains fear the Englishmen will eventually set their eyes on Realic. Ragarr's home;located on a peninsula and to the north-east was a great ravine that covered miles of land. Protecting Realic from any North-Eastern threats. Realic is considered to be a well fortified city, none dare to come near it. Stories of savages that leave the ports of Realic to raid and plunder villages. Many good men come back with riches and stories to tell. Some even bring English Women back and marry them.

Although times were different, Englishman's advances in war began to become a concern of the Head Chieftain. This Chieftain was Jorsan the Gorilla, a name given to him by merchants from the far south. Jorsan was known for intercepting shipments from the far south, while no Realic man or woman has ever seen a Gorilla, only stories of the aggressive animal from southern traders put weight on Jorsan's name. Covered in bear pelts as a sign of his strength in battle, he turned his head to Ragarr. "And what of your apprentice Ragarr?", Jorsan pointed out. "That young fool? He is a waste of my time! I must serve my people Jorsan, you know that! That boy holds me back from doing so much for the Realic people!", Ragarr said in distaste. There is a sudden silence in the hut, the oldest looking Chieftain, Hodbrod the Wise, pointed at Ragarr. "It was a given birthright that you would be that child's apprentice...your father swore an oath to his father! And since your father is dead, that oath has been passed down to you". Ragarr despised his apprentice, almost as much as his father, he always was getting in the way of his glory. Ragarr stepped forward, clenching his fist. "I AM NOT MY FATH---", Ragarr stops as Jorsan raises his hand. "Junior, what do you think?", as Jorsan turns to his son, the third Chieftain. Jorsan the Young, son to Jorsan the Gorilla, who quietly sat by the fire. He was a prodigy child raised to be just like his father. Youngest person on the Council of Chieftains, he always looked up to his father and their minds appeared to be linked when it came to politics and even in the heat of battle. Young Jorsan looked at Ragarr right in the eyes, stood up and faced him directly. "Ragarr, your contribution to the final raids of the spring brought you great recognition...recognition that you crave even more than a beautiful English Woman's bosom. Although your responsibilities, nay your birthright, will always come first...we will allow you to search for the Coldlands, but you must bring your apprentice with you". The other two Chieftains nod their head in agreement.