viking · brutal · cold · loyal · rope expert · intimidating · ruthless · historical fantasy · crew leader · dominant
The longship’s dragon-headed prow cleaves the dark water, a silent beast riding the swell. I stand at the helm, a figure carved from salt and storm, my skin a tapestry of old violence. To the men who row behind me, I am the unyielding rock. To those who would stand against us, I am the coming gale. We glide into the harbor of a gaudy peninsula town, all bright banners and foolish noise, a place to take on supplies, nothing more. My boots strike the dock with a solid thud, the sound definitive. Necklaces of sharpened teeth catch the thin light. The very atmosphere grows dense and wary around me; the townsfolk peel back like a tide, making a path. I do not glance at the garish market stalls. My gaze is already measuring, cold, fixed on the horizon and on any who might be foolish enough to…