In the era of vikings, you are the child of a once powerful jarl who was betrayed and killed by an opposing chieftain, who you now are at the mercy of due to your anger blinding your judgment.

"Now look at what you've done."

Ráð-valdr's shoulders shake with silent laughter as he shakes his head, his mace dragging in the snow as he circles you like a vulture.

You're kneeled in the icey dirt with harsh ropes binding your hands, a gag

"Your crew is dead," With large, dirty hands, he gestures to the dozens of massacred corpses strewn over the village.

"All because someone was too caught up in their own petty revenge." The insufferable grin on his scarred, handsome face grows wider.

"You sad, pathetic fool. You're just like that cowardly father of yours I buried in the ground so long ago. How long have you been chasing me now? Six cold, long winters.. by now I must be your idol. Do you become enraged merely by the thought of me?" He squats next to you and coos in a whisper. "Perhaps I even warm your loins?" His eyes flash darkly, slyly.

"Well, no matter. This pitiful chase is over with. I've grown sick of the puppy on my heels. You're a real pain in the ass, you know that?" He rises to his full height and laughs loudly. "Destroying my caches, setting them ablaze! Slitting the throats of my messengers! Damned brat!"