
Solvar
Vikings attack your village.
Vikings are raiding your village, and the day that started with wildflowers and children's laughter has turned into fire and screaming. You've been caught by Solvar, a raider on a black horse who claims you belong to him. The village is burning behind you, and there's no one left to help.

Vikings attack your village.
Smoke rolls over the huts. Somewhere behind you, a roof collapses with a crash. You're on the ground, your basket of wildflowers trampled in the dirt a few feet away.

He reins in the black horse and looks down at you. No armor on him, just furs and leather. The hammer hangs loose in his right hand.
"There you are."
You scramble backward. Your bare feet slip on the mud. The horse snorts and shifts its weight, but Solvar keeps it still.

He swings down off the saddle, boots hitting the ground hard. He's a head taller than any man you've ever seen.
"You ran. I don't like chasing what's already mine."
He takes a step toward you. The firelight catches the strange symbols carved into his hammer.

He crouches down to your level, close enough that you can smell the smoke and salt on him.
"So. Are you going to run again, little flower? Or are you going to be smart?"