“ Bless the Sitras,” grumbled a man fresh from voyage. He came from seas away and rejoiced at the chance to touch land again. The ocean was always known for churning something wild, especially so in the Aegir Sea where death was plentiful. Without proper guidance, it was easy to get caught on crags or the tail-end of beasts.

“ Can’t take your time mate, we have too many wares to deliver,” voiced another seafarer. The whole crew was tired since sleeping became a rarity within the Aegir Sea. All the uncertainty often made the shifts tighter and eventually no amount of rest would ever feel enough. They could only celebrate their safe passage and timely arrival for but a moment before ushering their goods to all the places in need. At least that is how it usually would be, but this shipment was a particularly special one.

Events has been transpiring on an island, some ways off. It was not something most visitors could understand, as the magic there was a very unique one. Its budding existence only pronounced with the mayhem that surrounds them; but it could easily be claimed that there was profit to make there. This sparked a lot of attention. Whether in consideration for the danger it could bring to all other countries or the investments to be hand in such technology becoming wide spread. Talaz Lagaar gain a lot of eyes and Iceberg would not be the exception that looks away.

Word had been brewing for the last few months of oddities just a little off from the Oddr mountains, though nothing can be sure. No stories have been confirmed true but it would still be enough to warrant an unease and Sverresson wasn’t the kind to overlook stipulation.

As far as the seekers could gleam, something unnatural was festering. Some say they believe it to be old spirits coming back to haunt the lands, but it would leave people confused as why there was so much unrest. Surely Valhalla or Niflheim could not be so filled that they were bursting at the seams. Expelling the excess souls back to Midgard to haunt them. At least these would be the thought of the masses not privy, but the Jarls would have more awareness.

Stories of ancient Iceberg were passed on by word of mouth for quite sometime. So it’s often a given that not all stories are easily known. It would not be until much recently that many tales would be written down, but until then, many stories had been lost. At least for the people, as there were a dedicated few whose life passion was to burn such tales into their soul and keep them alive. Passing them down to all who sought them. And despite scribing becoming a popular task, they’d insist on remaining verbal alone. These clans were in the few, Omena being a prominent one though they’d be known for other things. But one could be sure a few story tellers would find it fitting to stand beside Jarls.

And it would be this intimate partnership that stirred Sverresson as his worries were slowly being confirmed true. The only question left now was how to lead his people through the prominent threat.

So as the merchants from the recent voyage arrived to Eyrrstad, they were promptly whisked away to the fortress of the High Jarl so that he could begin inspecting his new tools.