The saga of Eirik Xenobane, part 1

[Brother Captain Kezef]

Eirik was born to the Skulltaker tribe, a fierce clan of Fenrisian sea warriors. Some would call them little more than pirates, infamous for their cruelty and rapacious behaviour. During the brief Fenrisian summer the tribe would constantly raid others for slaves and supplies before the seas froze during the long winter. Eirik's mother was one such slave, taken during a raid on the Krakenheart tribe. Eirik's father was a brutal warrior with a sadistic streak who liked to beat his slaves, such was his reputation no woman would willingly accept him as a husband. Suffice to say, Eirik's mother was not a willing participant in his conception.

 

Life for a Fenrisian slave is a harsh one. Constant beatings, hard work and little food made Eirik into a lean but strong youth. He possessed a savage, feral nature that earned him many a beating and many referred to him as the tribe's pet wolf cub.

Fenrisians do not measure their age by such an arbitary and constant concept as years like many Human cultures. The Fenrisian year is much longer than a Terran one a culture at the mercy of random, dramatic and often fatal change has no use for such a concept. On Fenris a girl becomes a woman when she is old and strong enough to choose a husband and bear children and a boy is a man when he is old enough and strong enough to go into battle.

When Eirik came of age, many in the tribe argued that he was a dangerous dog that should be put down. However his father enjoyed the cruelties inflicted on his slaves and had not yet tired of the boy.

 

It was during the height of a Fenrisian winter, when the world was trapped in ice, that Eirik's saga truly began. The tribe was running low on resources and the salves where always the first to suffer, overworked and barely fed. Eirik;s mother had developed a debilitaing, wracking cough that seemed for some reason to grate on their master's nerves. One day he began beating her for it, untill she was little more than a broken creature, huddlke in the corner gasping for breath between coughing fits. Snarling in disgust, Eirik's father took drew his blade and killed the poor woman. Even the mercy of a quick death was denied her and she died in agony, her last breath a scream of pain.

Something snapped, deep within Eirik, something deep and primal was unleashed within his soul. Taking a brand from the hearth, the youth advanced on his father, his tormentor, the man who had killed his mother. A tired, hungry slave against a seasoned and armed Fenrisian warrior. It should of been no contest, but Eirik's body was lean and his reflexes swift, honed by years of dodging blows and working from dawn to dusk. Eirik's first blow shattered the elbow of his father's sword arm, it takes a long time to beat a man to death and Eirik did not hurry his work.

 

King Haakon Brokenshield, chief of the Skulltakers, was feasting with his bodyguard. The celebration was in honour of a raid planned for the following day against a rival tribe, the hall echoed with the sound of merriment and joy. The doors to the hall crashed open and silence fell across the hall like a shadowed cloak as a youth, caked in blood and sword in hand, stalked into the centre of the long hall. Haakon stood and regarded the apparition, with a grim smile he addressed the slave.

 

"Have you come to kill me boy?"

 

Eirik looked up and shook his head. Dropping his father's sword, the youth knelt before the king.

 

"I came here to die."

 

Haakon approached the slave and picked up the fallen blade. For a moment he considered striking Eirik down and ending the youth's life there and then, but instead he chuckled and offered the sword hilt-first. A man could not become a King on Fenris without appreciating honour and courage.

 

"You owe me a warrior and since we go into battle tomorrow, that is something of an inconveniance. Aye, you will die lad, you will join the youngbloods and fight on the morrow. But I warn you, make sure you find your death on the snow, if you survive I will cut the blood eagle into your back myself!"

 

The Skulltakers met the Ironclaw tribe on a snowcovered plain that had once been a vast lake. The two tribes where evenly matched, but the fierce competition for resources during the Fenrisian winter had forced war between the tribes. According to Fenrisian custom, both sides had formed their young warriors into wolfbrother packs, so that they could fight where the battle was fiercest and maybe attract the attention of the fabled sky warriors.

 

Eirik fought like a Daemon, lacking training in battle he fought with a feral rage and instinct. Slowly but surely, he carved a path towards the Ironclaw's chieten and with a savage warcy threw himself at the King. The Ironclaw's lord was no youth and Eirik found himself impaled on a spear. Grasping the shaft, Eirik pulled himself forward till he was face to face with his foe, his last act was to spit into the face of the King before oblivion claimed him.

 

Eirk awoke in a training camp on Asaheim, one of over a hundred aspirants chosen by the Wolf Priests. Young warriors drawn from all across Fenris to train and earn a place amongst the sky warriors. The trials and hardships where many and one by one the aspirants failed or died, whittling down their numbers till less than thirty remained. Then came the final test, each youth drunk from the cup of the wulfen and fell into a fevered, dreamlike delirium. Each aspirant was taken far into the wilds of Asaheim and left to fend for themselves, to battle the changes within their body and yet remain who and what they where.

 

Eirik almost lost himself in the feral, savage transformation that the canis heilx had unleashed. He wandered the wilds, hunting, killing, eating what he could. No other aspirant, before or since, had spent so much time in the wilds. All had given him up for dead or worse, yet he did return to the fang, he survived and fought the beast within.

 

The saga of Eirik Xenobane had begun.

[Jonas Stromclaw]

Good! Ignored or made up fluff in a couple of places (tribal chieftains are jarls not kings, king is if they rule multiple tribe iirc) but that is what this forum is here for! I hope future additions hold a little more detail but good all around in proper fenrisian tradition!