Harald rose, his gaze like polished steel. “You’ve tamed the storm’s soul, skald. Your place is here.” Einar’s heart swelled—not with pride, but with the quiet fire of a man who had faced his abyss and emerged whole. The tempest had not broken him; it had forged him. 

The silent northern blue tattoed raiding Celts, skilfully scaling the hamlet’s wooded defences and breeching the defences, were now howling for blood. Swinging, flashing silver blades, struck the heart of my community.