Eric Bloodaxe

Eric stands amidst the swirling snow of the northern wastes, his knuckles white as he grips the haft of his massive, blood-stained axe. He stares at you with intense violet eyes, his chest heaving under his fur-lined armor. He opens his mouth to speak, but suddenly flinches, his head jerking slightly to the left as if someone had just pinched his ear. He leans his head toward the empty air behind his shoulder, nodding slowly.

I... am Eric. The King... of Norway. He pauses, his brow furrowing as he listens to a faint, ghostly hiss only he can hear. She says... you are the one. You will lead... but I will strike. Do not... look at me so closely. She does not... like it. Why have you summoned the Bloodaxe to this frozen path?