Chapter 1 - Change

I am dead. This is it. They saw it, they know what it is, and I am dead meat now. I am dead. Gann's struggle with Brannok had ceased already and the wounded man was frozen in a breathless moment of mortifying realization. Glöyn's shout and Magan following her come in a very inopportune time for Gann's eyes scout the perimeter and the only thing at a hand's length is the fire. He tilts his whole weight sideways unable to move his lower body and grabs one of the thicker branches of wood too close to the flame itself, and with a growl of pain, he pulls it and waves it too close to Brannok's face for comfort, then the spearwoman. "Atal. Aros nô..." , he roars with the last of his strength. Fear chokes him and deep dry cough suppresses the rest. "Ei can prove none of this. Mae gen ei brawf." His poor grasp of Mercian butchers his attempt to deescalate, neither the primal determination succeeds at it. The wood branch makes soft burning cracking sounds, the flame crawling close to the thick-skinned hand of the man Stop. Stay back. -- I have proof.  When Brannok pulls back and throws the wool aside, he can feel one of the edges of the fabric tugging down heavier than even wet wool can. There's something there, sewn into the edge of the cloth. A bulge like a river pebble.

Glöyn's eyes narrow as they catch the ruined scars upon Gann's chest, but before she could react much more to the revelation the delirious man grabs a brand from the fire and begins waving it about. Knowing the potential for harm this state can cause to the wounded and to those around, especially with a man as strong as him Glöyn spins her spear about her body to bring the butt forward. She silently and carefully shifts around behind him as he seems to focus on Branok and Magan... there! That spot behind the ear near the base of the skull, that was where they showed her... With practiced strike she jabs out with her weapon and with a solid "thunk" sound the blunt end strikes Gann hard! The wounded man grunts with the impact and his eyes roll back into his head to show their whites as he collapses into a limp pile. She immediately kicks the smoldering branch away from him. "Quickly, we must bind him. He is clearly delirious with ailment. I have seen this before, he is reliving whatever has been done to him by others. He may harm one of us or himself without intent. Do you have any rope?"

Kara shakes her head, completely caught off guard by the current happenings. It was clear from her delayed responses that she was not of much use to any one, and so she would go and sit with Isolde and Penn. If she couldn't stop and react properly to one sick man, she was not fit for combat, and that did not sit well with the tall Norse woman.

"Quite the man you have brought into my camp here. What were you thinking?" Magan sits exhausted on Gann's lega, clutching his chest and looking around at his companions. "Had you no thought to the people we are protecting or the importance of our cause?" He reaches over to where he discarded his shield leaning on it, he pulls himself to his feet. 

Guthric hops up, clapping at the show, "Maith, Maith!" He spreads his arms wide to Glöyn, the pats his chest, "Tá tú ag troid go maith. An dtroidfidh tú liom an chéad lá eile?" Without waiting for a response, Guthric goes to Magan next, "Tá sé tinn. B'fhéidir go bhfuil sé ag rith ar shi úl?" "Good, Good!" // "You fight well. Maybe you fight me next?" // He is sick. Maybe he's running away?"

Gloyn stares at Guthric, clearly not understanding a word he just said to her as he claps, but the stance she does recognize; it was one that indicated a challenge. She watches him warily as he goes to stand next to another man of the group. "Where is this camp? I would see it with my eyes. I want to know if others may be around. Perhaps it will tell me what I need to know." She felt a dichotomous split, part of her knew that the men she sought were not here that she had been either intentionally or unintentionally given bad information, but another part of her had to know for sure. Maybe... just maybe she would find some sign that told her they were here. She'd been so close this time. She fought hard to fall into tears in the presence of these warriors. She wanted to scream, but then her father's bearing broke through even as her lip quivered slightly.

Not understanding a word Guthric says he gives him a funny look, before his angry eyes settle back accusingly on Kara and Gawen. He waves Glöyn back towards the cave without breaking his stare. "Just a few metres inside, they were in the first section of the cavern. Some of them ran further in though so be careful. They will no doubt return soon to find us with our hands full of the strong, violent man my companions brought to my camp and take full advantage of our split attention." 

Kara waves Magan off, used to his ill looks by this point. She was tired, grumpy, and frankly, she was ill tired of the road. She wanted some hot food, no offense to Branok, but she also wanted to get to that city she was told about. She was unable to say it right, but she would remind Branok about it the next chance she got. She calls up to him, saying in a very clearly sweet and with no clear malice " Magan, if one had no lost sight of those we guard, we would not be here with a dying man in our group. If the priest is not bothered by him, I doubt we should be. I also think we should rest. For if we push on, I do not think it will end well if we fight something bigger than a raven, and one does not fight ravens."

As Branok disposes of Gann's rancid tunic, he comes across the heavy lump near the edge, where something has been hidden inside it. With a deft flick of the knife it is open and three silver pieces tumble out, along with an enormous iron ring. It's of such a size that it must clearly have been made specifically for Gann's thick fingers. An inscription upon it reads: In Service ◙ Lord Ocg Eod "Magan!" Branok calls. "You might want to see this."

Magan is about to argue back at Kara, annoyance clearly spread across is face, but at Branok's words he bites back his response and stands at the priests side looking over his shoulder at first before reaching out to take the ring and look it over more closely. 

As the others minister Gann, Glöyn turns her attention to the caves and draws her warseax in her off-hand and keeps her spear handy in the other. As she approaches the cave mouth, she crouches low and slips silently into the darkness... This was where she was best, by herself and alone without the others loudly stomping about and breathing through their mouths. She quickly finds the campsite and spends a few moments examining things, but quickly determines there is no sign of the Jurmond Gang here. It was likely just a dead end, bad information or possibly misinformation. Did they know she was tailing them? That could not be... she was always one or two steps behind them. She should have known better than to think they would have abandoned their ships for land travel. 'Gods, I'm an imbecile. I should have known they wouldn't risk riding across all this territory to return to Saxony.' She stands and exits the caves shortly thereafter. "It would seem my quarry has never been here. It is likely I received poor information at my last port. I know the general path they are heading. You all wouldn't happen to be heading east would you?"

Looking up from the ring he has been unable to decipher, Magan eyes Gloyn suspiciously. "We may be, but not directly." He stares at her a little longer, clearly not wanting to go onto details about their travel plans. 

"Keep your secrets, then. I am traveling east and would not mind some companionship and the safety in numbers. I am capable enough on my own, but warriors such as yourselves could come in handy should I locate these slavers again before we part ways. I would share any wealth these men carry with any that aid me, should you be interested. They seem to be hitting all major cities as they raid their way down the coastline to either sell extra slaves or replenish any supplies they may require. What say you all? Do we cooperate? Or shall I begin my journey alone?" She returns Magan's stare, clearly not intimidated by the man.

Magan's eyes crinkle and his lips twitch beneath the beard, there is clear amusement in his voice as he responds. "We are going north first. If it is palatable to you, you may join us, but our cause comes first and we will not risk our mission for yours."

Gloyn nods her agreement. "That is agreeable to me. Same for mine." She glances down at Gann's unconscious form and lets out a heavy sigh. She wondered about this marking and what it meant. She was too distracted by the tale of her father that she allowed this man to take her for a fool. She would not be so careless next time. "You all appear exhausted. These men put up that much of a fight?"

Magan twitches his head to the side. "There were a lot of them, and we were not well prepared." He rubs his beard. "We will take you with us then, we'll have to see about him though." He gestures with his foot at the unconscious Gann.  As he sits at the fire later that night, pulling on his beard Magan reflects on the task ahead and what has gone before. His companions had struggled with the simple bandits, and even more so with the already dead. Taking on an invading force of Christians seemed beyond them. The Red Wolves had been huge and experienced, and had still lost most of their number ambushing a Fort. Kara's ferocious viking band had suffered worse. They needed more people, that was for sure. As he sits, in such total concentration he realises his senses are reaching out through the ground around him. Despite having his eyes closed and being absorbed by his thoughts he is suddenly very aware of who is around him. Kara sat with her sword across the fire, nothing unusual there, Branok tending to Gann and Theli, Isolde, Gawen, Gloyn, Guthric. He could feel the presence of them all. Reaching further, he could feel the presence and absence of humans for miles around him. Instinctively he knew with certainty. Thinking on Gloyn's indecision about slavers in the cave he focuses in that direction, reaching through the caves with his mind to find where individuals or groups of men were gathering.

Kara spends the downtime resting, and at some points getting more familiar with calling Helgi forth, the blade flashing in and out every time she called it, before she moved into swinging it and calling it halfway in the swing. After doing that for a bit, she would search for her book on Freya, and read from it, seeking guidance for the days to come. They now seemed to have many different companions going many different ways, and she was unsure how to best prepare for the journey ahead. But she trusted in Freya to safely get them through all the challenges to come, and she even gives a prayer and small offering of honey as thanks for their fortune so far.

As Gawen sits by the fire, he feels restless. The strange events of the day still bothered him - the ease with which Arthek had taken Theli and Isolde, the short but brutal fight against him and his men, the struggle in the dark against the dead, Ewan's unnatural death, the sudden appearance of Gloyn and Gann. Their quest eastwards grew more complicated by the day. What was more, he could still feel Annwn, somehow just there at his periphery, just out of sight. The summoning of the thorny growths in the cave earlier had worked better than he had expected and he knew something in him had changed since the start of the journey, and was changing still. His connection to Annwn, strengthened by use, the lost few days after the ceremony in Caerwysg... He felt different, and wasn't sure if it was a good or a bad omen. Thinking back on the events in the cave though, he thought he might not be the only one who had changed... Hauling himself to his feet he walks over to where Kara is practising with Helgi, the blade flashing with far more radiance than just that reflected from the fire. He watches for a short while, seeing how it flares bright as she swings. Waiting for a pause in her efforts, he asks her, "How do you make it shine like that? And... perhaps my eyes were playing tricks in the dark, but in the cave earlier, I thought I saw golden wings sprout from your back. Am I mistaken?"

Sitting down again next to Gloyn, Magan hestitently puts a comforting hand on her shoulder. "I know it can be tough when things do not go as you hope. If it helps, there are no big groups in the caves so I am sure those you seek are not here. I would feel their presence. If you leave with us you have not turned away from your goal."

Gloyn glances up from the fire into Magan's eyes, he reminded her of her Father a bit and frowns at his words. "How do you mean when you say you can sense their presence? You mean tracking them? Can you smell them?"

Kara continues her sword practice for a few more seconds after Gawen approached, making it clear she was practicing something, but not being rude about it. She then wipes some light sweat from her forehead, and pushes her hair back that fell forward. She greets him and ask him to sit with her, because clearly this was not to be a short conversation. "Sit, be seated and warmed by our shared fire." The words seemed to hold a bit of magic to them, as it was clear a ritual of some sort. Before continuing, she carefully lays Helgi back into her holding spot, the blade simmering away until it seems just the hilt remained. After that, she continues to speak, this time a bit more naturally for her, though it was clear her use of anything none Norse wasn't complete. "It is great day yes? There are many battles fought, and we shall provide to be victors. As to your answer, first is explained in bit. Second part is light comes from behind me when cause is just. It is merely Freya showing her blessing, and it gives a warm feeling on my back, as though I could rush forward faster into fight. Though I am unclear about any light. I was unaware of any darkness in the caves, they seemed lit as if normal. As for Helgi, Helgi is Helgi. She is.... she is sword, like I am a woman. But Theli is also woman, and yet different from me. That is how Hegli works. She is just different sword, you know, you ask her to work. She may not work for you."  Kara offers the hilt to Gawen, though she clearly was unsure what his result would be from either touching Helgi or even trying to get it to work properly.

Magan shrugs. "I just know, if I sit and concentrate I can just feel nature being disturbed by the presence of mankind. People are very disruptive. " A look of slight confusion passes over Magan's face, he had never been aware that he held that opinion before, he had never thought into the impact of man on nature. Yet somehow after using his senses in this way it seemed obvious to him. 

Gloyn's eyes widen in surprise as she listens to Magan. "Then you are a seer? I... I have never before met a seer! Mother always spoke about the Druids of the forests, but I never thought to meet one!"

Magan smiles. "Me? No. You should talk to him." He gestures at Gawen. "He understands the wilds and the will of the gods in a way I never could hope to. I have just lived so long in the outdoors that they have seeped into my bones. I feel more and more of the presence of the gods in these days though. They are pleased by our mission and give it urgency. They need us to win, the removal of these Christians from these lands is important to them. I feel Wodin's hand guiding me and his ravens drive us forward with all haste, that is why we cannot tarry."

Gawen sits beside Kara and listens as she tries to articulate her own understanding of her abilities. Though hampered by the fact that neither Kara nor he were speaking their native language, he follows her words closely, nodding as she talks. When she is finished, he takes the proffered hilt respectfully and examines it. To the naked eye, it looks unremarkable, save perhaps for a slight glow. Through his third eye, however, it emits a powerful celestial energy, unmistakable for any mundane object. He concentrates, curious to see if he could will the blade into life with his own supernatural connection, but it does not respond to him - whether because Kara's puissance is of some different variety, or simply because he is not the sword's master, he cannot say. "Seems Helgi is not willing to show her differences to me at least," he says with a smile, handing the inert hilt back to Kara. As she reaches to take it, he realises that she, too, had a celestial aura about her - the same aura he had noticed when they first met, but stronger now than it had been. And he was certain he hadn't imagined the wings. So then what was she? Under some curse, or blessing? Or was this something latent in her bloodline, an inheritance she was only now coming into? He remembers Kara mentioning the mother she had never known. His hometown had had little contact with norsemen besides the odd trader-vessel that had put in at port, but he seemed to recall a story he had once heard of winged warrior-women in the far north. What was the word they had used... Wælcyrge? Wælcyrie? He couldn't quite remember... Regardless, it seemed that Kara herself had not yet made any connection between herself and any stories of old. And, he considers, perhaps digging deeper into the mystery was not his role. What was important now was that she was a good fighter, brave and loyal. But... his curiousity had been piqued. "If the wings I saw were not just in my imagination... what would that mean? Do your people have any stories that would explain such a thing?" he asks her as they stare into the fire together.

Gloyn's eyes widen as she listens to Magan, eating small pieces of dried fruit. Her hand stops midway to her mouth as he mentions the Christians and she feels a tingle sweep through her body. "You are going after the Christians? Perhaps... I feel our meeting was fated, Magan. Everything I have learned about these men I seek indicates they are taking all their captives to sell to the Christians. I had hoped to intercept them here before they made it that far; however...." She gestures vaguely and angrily. "It would seem the Gods did not approve. This must be their will. I will travel with you all, should you have me. Do not let my age trouble you... I have killed men before. Many men. And I am skilled with spear, blade, and bow. I am a shadow in the woods. My failure before notwithstanding. Should the Gods split our paths before then, I will wish you all luck, but I feel this is their will."

Magan nods, though he raises an eyebrow at the many men. Clearly she has surprised him a little.  "We would be glad to have you along. I am coming to realise that this is not a task for four warriors alone, capable as we may be. We have lost two on our path already and have yet to reach half way. We must begin to look to swell our numbers as we near our goal."

Kara frowns as Gawen is unable to get Helgi to respond, and is a bit concerned something is now wrong with her sword. Kara knew Gawen could perform some pretty good feats of valor and healing, and Helgi should have no issue with him. She takes her sword back once offered and invoked the name again, the blade flaring back to life. She then recalls Helgi, and puts the blade away, confusion clear on her face as why Gawen was unable to make her work properly. His next question caught her off guard. She still didn't really believe the wings were hers, so she plays it off. "You make joke yes? Only  Walkyrie have wings and are female. I am no Walkyrie. I am not dead, nor am I handmaiden to Freya. Maybe one day when I die yes? Be great honor to be handmaiden to Freya. Only strongest and brave  skjaldmær... umm... shield maiden? They become Walkyrie. Here, look in book. You read yes?"  She brings forth her book of Freya. It is a clearly worn and much loved leather bound tome. It even had a few pictures, one of which was of a warrior woman, complete with shining blade and wings. While Kara would miss it, Gawen could clearly see the resemblance, if maybe Kara was slightly less armored that what was pictured. Whatever her power or connection to the divine was, she seemed unaware of it, but clearly accepted it can exist, for the tome if read a little tells of the elves and other beings Gawen may have only heard in story, and yet based on Kara's power, something had to be real about it, for she clearly did have some divine favor, for she had healed a few wounds that none other should have.

Gawen respectfully takes the book and looks with interest at the pictures Kara shows him. The one of the shining Valkyrie bears a surprising resemblance to the Kara he had seen in the cave earlier, but it seemed clear that whatever the source of her light, it was something she would have to discover in her own time and manner. "Sadly there's not much call for reading Norse back west," he says in response to Kara's invitation to read the book, "But it's a fine book, you'll have to tell me more of what it says some time. The pictures are fascinating though, and I do see something of you in these pictures of Wælcyrie - though as you say, you're not dead, and long may that continue to be the case!" He yawns. It had been a long and strange day, and he hadn't realised how tired he was until he sat down by the warmth of the fire. "Well, anyway. Wings or no, I'm glad Freyja continues to aid our journey. Speaking of which, if we ever want to get anywhere we should probably get some sleep!" Heaving himself to his feet, he goes to speak to Magan about arranging a watch - both for external threats, and to keep an eye on their new acquaintances.

The night air is old cold and crisp, but also peaceful. The distant hooting of an owl and the wind in the trees are the only sounds to be heard, and soon the moon has passed far behind them and sun is rising in the east. The smell of warm broth wafts amongst the tents, rousing the travellers from their bedrolls and blankets. Branok is sat by the fire and is preparing breakfast. Theli lies nearby, still asleep, but her breathing is laboured. Isolde is curled up on top of the carriage with Pen, both of them still fast asleep under the little girl's blanket.

Magan has alternated between giving watch and Praying of Theli's sleeping form between very brief moments of sleep and as he paces around the fire now his red eyes betray his tiredness, both physical and emotional. He sits down beside Branok to help with breakfast and asks the priest. " Do you think she will make it? I must admit, I was fearing the worst long before this point."

Branok sighs and throws a sorry glance over the sleeping woman. "The wound is healing far faster than expected... but it is deep. I fear for what will happen if a fever takes her before she is whole."

Magan nods solemnly, " Then we must pray that does not happen". He stands, and moves to gently wake Isolde. "Come, eat. We need to get moving little one. Your training needs to begin again today."

Isolde makes an annoyed grown in her sleep and pulls Pen closer. The dog gives Magan the smug look of self-satisfaction before closing its eyes again.

Beneath her furs, Gloyn rises to the smell of cooking broth and smiles with the cheerfulness that only comes with youth. "It is joyful to not have to hunt and cook my own breakfast for a change!" Her keen eyes catch the glance in Magan's eyes as he watches Theli. She gathers a bowl of broth from Branok with a thankful nod as she comes to stand beside Magan. "Is she your woman?"

Gann's stripped body rests motionless by the charred remains of the fire, tied well. He appears to be deep asleep despite the rousing noises of the morning dawn. A bruise swells on his upper jawline where Glöyn took him down with a single blow. 

Magan gives Gloyn a look of surprise before shifting to sadness with a shake of his head. "I do not know. I had hoped. Perhaps." He shakes his head further. "It doesn't matter. For now she needs my care, and I will provide it. She was under my protection and I could not keep her safe." He turns back to Isolde, scooping his arms under her blanket he lifts her off the floor. "Time to move little one. If you will stay cocooned you must do it in the wagon. We have tarried too long." He looks over at Gann. "If Isolde is sleeping in the wagon, and Theli too needs to rest there, where is he going?" He asks the question out loud, almost as a challenge.

Glöyn nods to Magan. "She was hurt by these men?" She gestures towards the Wookey Hole. "I will help your Branok keep her alive as best I can. I have skill with infections and fevers." She glances over at Gann with a frown. "I can build him a litter rather quickly that we can attach and drag behind the one of the horses. If that is acceptable." She looks to Magan, who is clearly the leader of this group in the eyes of the young woman.

Magan nods in confirmation as he claps Glöyn on the shoulder in thanks. "I appreciate any help you can give. This chapter is done now. The men have been made to pay for their crimes against Theli and the girl. I had hoped to be able to give her justice herself. But he caught up with us before she was ready." When Glöyn mentions the solution with Gann he just shrugs. "As you will, but I will not risk him with them. Beyond that is not my concern. You need a horse?"

As Magan makes the group ready, Kara takes the time to give thanks and a prayer for safe journey to Freya. I know we must travel onwards, and now this questions have came up. I pray answers to mine and the groups. We will need them for our fight against this heathens. Give us strength.  After finishing the prayer, Kara gathers her belongings along with the question in her head. Gawen said he saw wings behind her, and it was not the first time that had been mentioned to her. Perhaps the old woman was right. When able, she ask Magan "The elder at the last temple mentioned for me to go to a... some place. Is it close by where we are going? I can not recall the name properly now, but perhaps you recall it."

Isolde stretches sleepily, her eyes only half open, but happily accepts the warm bowl of stew from Branik. Pen never leaves the girl's side and curls back up at her feet while she eats, eagerly scavenging scraps here and there.

Magan looks at Kara strangely. "I am afraid I do not remember a conversation between you and any temple elders. What type of place is it?" 

Kara sighs and shakes her head. Surely she remember speaking with someone about it, and she swore it was Magan. Kara would bring it up to Branok as they start to make the journey again, wondering if it was he she had spoken with. Gawen query into her past made her want to have some final answers, though she knew not what she was seeking to be honest

Gloyn nods to Magan and gladly accepts one of the horses this group has available to them. "Thank you. Although I am also quite good on my feet. I am exceptionally skilled at moving through the forests and sneaking up on people. Should we encounter anything strange, it is not uncommon to see me disappear into the treeline. I am skilled in battle, but I'm not a warrior. I am best when not stuck in one place." With that completed, she begins to focus on building a litter that would be strong enough to hold the weight of Gann's large frame. She finds two strong saplings and cuts them down for the frame, then but several smaller branches to create the supports for the frame. By the time the others have finished eating and are prepared to go... she has finished with the travois. She glances over at Kara's large, muscular frame and nods towards Gann. "A little help, perhaps?" With Kara's aid, Gann is loaded onto the litter and lashed down to it with furs restrained with rope. Once he was securely bound, Gloyn removes a few items from the herb pouch at her side and sniffs a few different leaves, blinking her eyes as they begin to water at the powerful smell. She keeps one out, replaces the rest, then crushes the remaining leaf between her hands, rubbing it vigorously to release the vapors trapped within. She then immediately cups the crushed remnants within her palm and places it over Gann's nose and holds it there for a moment...

The soft embrace of darkness has felt like a mother's womb; a rare, undeserved return to serenity and peace. It has been a mere moment or an eternity, but even eternities cannot last forever. The calm is disturbed and the veil is ruptured, and with it comes to the meteor fall into cold and pain, and tribulation. Gann snaps into consciousness with the instincts of an animal. Before his dried eyes have fully opened, his arms snap into motion and an out-stretched hand attempts to reach of a seax that isn't there, but even if it were the tug of a tight rope around his wrists restraints him. He stares into the face of Glöyn, repressing the primal urge to grab her wrist that carries a sharp whiff that assaults his nostrils. His eyes dart to the imposing figure of Kara, then to the movement in near vicinity. "Why am I tied?" He asks with heavy wheeze in his voice. "Have Ei done anything to harm any of you?" He then comes to a realization, and his fast breathing skips a beat. Though he finds himself wrapped in furs, he is chest bare naked and has been for a while before all judging eyes. His mind races to deal with the repercussions of it, and yet he is still alive -- but tied like a beast. He raises his voice to all to hear. "If I have, Ei did not mean any. I owe ye for saving my life, it's rare to stumble upon friends in them woods." While he waits for a response, he looks at Glöyn with pleading eyes, almost whispering. "I need my clothes, I really need them. I..." He struggles to find good reason to add. "I wish not to scare the child."

Glöyn steps back at Gann reacts to the restraints, she watches him calmly for a moment. “You were not in your right mind, it happens sometimes with the fevers. I have seen it before, you were seeing things that were not here. I—I did not want you to hurt anyone.”  Her eyes fall upon the dark bruise on his jaw. “I am sorry, but it was necessary. Your clothes are ruined.” She looks at him in the eye and sets her jaw. “What is that ring? And the scarring on your chest? Who are you?” She clutches her spear shaft tightly. “Are you a slaver?”

Gann breathes deeply as he calms himself, acknowledging the situation he is in. Glöyn's firm yet calming words have their effect on him, as he swallows and nods back. "Good. Think nothing of it. It was necessary." He clears his nose from the clotted blood with a forced snort and tests the strength of the ropes with his thickset wrists. " You have the ring, good; is better than lost. That ring is all left of my life." He pauses for a moment. "Mei name is Gann of Torfenn, and ei am - was - a sworn guard of Aldhelm, son of Ruler Ocg Eopping of Bernwick, may the oaks grant him longlasting life and the stars clear mind." He trails his saying with a sigh. "This ring is my proof. Return it to me." Gann's eyes pierce at Glöyn. He waits for a moment to let his brash demand sink in, the sheer contrast of noble names spoken by a sorry creature found dying in the woods. He relaxes then shakes his head and looks down at his ruined chest, moving to the last question. "Nae. Ei was sold to Ruler Ocg when I was five. Ei was a slave all my life. Spirits guided me to save his heir's life, and Lord Ocg's kindness put me into a vocation of a seax man. But I was proud, Ei had my head taller than my shoulders and my sword arm was exact. The schoolmaster and the rest did not approve of that. This is how they showed me where ei belong. It's a death brand, anywhere ei go." He nods, "Ei owe you for saving my life, and not taking it away before I could say these words."

Glöyn watches the man carefully, weighing and judging his words. She holds his eyes, showing a wisdom well beyond the youthfulness of her face. "Your words speak truthfully. We all have our own secrets, I will not demand you share them all. The ring... I will speak with Magan about it's return. For now, I feel it best if you remain bound for several reasons, mostly due to your condition and need for rest. You should not be riding as the fever could come upon you again and you could fall from your horse. This way you can rest, I can give you some herbs to ease the pain and help you rest if you like. I will hitch this to my horse, you are my charge and my responsibility. I made that choice when I did not slit your throat. I will not let any harm come to you that you do not bring upon yourself. Do you understand this?"

(The night before) As afternoon darkened to night, a peace came over the weary camp. The injured were together and resting, the healthy, or relatively so, were were enjoying the calm. However among the camp, there were two missing. Under the wagon, Claw tossed and shifted as his wound made resting difficult. As for Fang and Guthric, though, they were nowhere to be seen. Guthric's pack and shield were still accounted for, but not the owner. (The morning) Morning broke as peacefully as the night had been. Nearly everyone, even Gann, woke to greet the day in their own way. However just as everyone was beginning to stir and make preparations for the day, a familiar form came from the woods. Muddy and blood-spattered from head to toe, Guthric emerged with a triumphant stride along with Fang at his heels. Slung over each shoulder, hanging to the front and back of each knee, he presented the fruits of his night. All manner of small game adorned a pair of ropes studded with several nooses each. He placed the two lines by the center of camp to present. Two rabbits, three squirrels, three game birds, and even a fox. Once laid out, he waved Fang over and removed a pair of small sacks hung from the mastiff's shoulders. In one, several tubers had been gathered. In the other, at least three handfuls of wild berries. A whistle to the cart and a point was enough to lay Fang and Claw at Guthric's feet while he cleaned a rabbit. For one accustomed to foraging as such, the process took only a few minutes, then the hounds happily inhaled their rewards. Continuing along, Guthric planted several large sticks along a bonfire pit and began to clean and spit each of his quarries to be cooked. With bloody hands and knife, he waved everyone over to partake. "Not good cook, but I hunt well. Great Wolf teaches all how."

Gann nods weakly in response. "Then Ei shall not be more trouble than I am. Magan, is that the man you are working for?" The question was not meant to be biteful one but it might come that way. Gann takes another chance to look around, recognizing faces he barely noticed in the blur of the fever. His instincts flare when the massive pict comes back with the spoils of the hunt. Gann's nostrils flare only barely then it fades. "Should I speak to him, and seek to reason with him?" He quickly returns to the subject at hand, asking Glöyn for advice.