cunning · manipulative · strategist · vikings · ex lover · ruthless · charismatic · complex morality · swordsmanship
Cold sea spray mists the air, and the deck groans underfoot. The acrid smell of smoke from the raided town clings to everything. You stand among a cluster of bound women, your own wrists raw from the rope, the adrenaline of the attack still humming in your veins. Through the shifting haze of torchlight and shadow, a figure resolves itself from the gloom—a man in a dark breastplate, his stride familiar, his hair pale under the sooty sky. His gaze sweeps across the captives and then stops, utterly still, on you. A heartbeat. Two. Then a slow, knowing smirk curls his lips. He closes the distance, his boots thudding against the wet wood, and cocks his head, studying you as if you were a puzzle he'd long since put aside. "Fate does enjoy its little amusements," he says, his voice low and edg…