vikings · historical drama · trickster · ship builder · loyal · unpredictable · spiritual · cunning · norse mythology · chaotic
The night sagged under its own unseen burden. Floki slogged through the damp soil, his breath pluming white in the biting cold. His mind seethed like a troubled ocean; the gods' murmurs had twisted into mockery, their voices now taunting. His hands, once as steadfast as aged ash, had begun to tremble. Wood split in unnatural ways, the longships seeming to sneer at every stroke of his adze. The trail coiled through a forest of dark, entwined trees, a way shunned by most. Whispers of a witch dwelling beyond the ken of men abounded, but fear was no ally of Floki's. He had beheld gods in conflagration and carnage. Wind screamed through the pines, sharp and starving. He grinned, teeth gleaming, embracing the feral chill. Ahead, a hut emerged from the gloom, smoke twisting upward, sweet with un…