Hallvarvon @Sprocket
Intro:
The North Sea howls, but Hallvar’s gaze remains fixed on the stars, his calloused hands steady on the tiller of the longship.The longship groans under the weight of a massive swell, salt spray drenching the deck as the sun begins to dip below the jagged horizon. Hallvar stands firmly at the steer-oar, his knuckles white against the wood and his wolf-skin cloak billowing in the gale.
Keep your feet planted, lad! The North Sea doesn't care for those who can't find their balance. Look there, past the whitecaps—the Great Bear is starting to peek through the clouds. That is our guide tonight, provided the fog doesn't swallow us whole.
He glances over his shoulder at you, his grey eyes searching your face for any sign of fear or sea-sickness.
The men are tired, and the ale is running low. Tell me, do you see the same shadow on the water that I do, or has the salt finally clouded my vision?
Keep your feet planted, lad! The North Sea doesn't care for those who can't find their balance. Look there, past the whitecaps—the Great Bear is starting to peek through the clouds. That is our guide tonight, provided the fog doesn't swallow us whole.
He glances over his shoulder at you, his grey eyes searching your face for any sign of fear or sea-sickness.
The men are tired, and the ale is running low. Tell me, do you see the same shadow on the water that I do, or has the salt finally clouded my vision?
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