A warm smile spread across Baldur's face as he closed the weathered, leather-bound book. Determining the age of the tome had presented a slight challenge, but it was evident to Baldur that the runes inscribed on its pages were relatively recent. Jora, his trusted worker, had never encountered runes in a book before, as he was more accustomed to seeing them on stone and metal. It seemed that the existence of books was unfamiliar to most in this land, and Baldur was not surprised by his workers' inability to read the text, as illiteracy was likely widespread.
The contents of the book held a captivating allure. While it didn't provide any guidance on enchantment—as convenient as that would have been—it did offer information about the burial sites of the "First Men." It appeared that the man Baldur had killed had been in search of one of these nearby tombs. The book described five such locations in detail, outlining how to find and enter them. However, something about it screamed "trap" to Baldur.
The existence of these graves predating the book's creation raised suspicions in his mind. Someone must have discovered these locations, documented them, but for what purpose? Did they leave their findings for others to stumble upon, or perhaps they recorded them as a reminder? The circumstances surrounding the book's creation remained shrouded in mystery, but Baldur's curiosity gnawed at him relentlessly. To uncover the truth, he would have to investigate further. Fortunately, the closest grave was likely no more than a week's journey away—for a normal person, that is.
Before embarking on his expedition, Baldur knew he needed to fortify his base of operations. Some experimentation was in order, and he believed that by constructing an alphabet using the book, he could potentially substitute Ancient Greek and employ his usual method of runesmithing. After all, he prided himself as the finest runesmith his humble cabin had ever witnessed, despite his short time there. With a clear short-term goal in mind, Baldur set to work.
His first step was to produce paper, as it would be impractical to continue carving his inscriptions into wooden planks. Rising from his desk, Baldur swiftly left the warmth of his home and ventured outside the partially completed walls into the worker camp.
Jora, unchained and ever dutiful, stood at attention and saluted Baldur upon his arrival. "Boss! Do you need something?"
Waving Jora closer, Baldur surveyed the camp. Galrum, the only one still restrained, tended to a crackling fire while a pot of stew simmered above it. Arson diligently dug a trench, connecting the outlined area of his future home to the main water line Baldur had recently installed, ensuring the trio would have a supply of clean running water.
The comfort and convenience provided by Baldur's home had left the three men awestruck, even though Galrum had never voiced it aloud like the others. The promise of constructing similar homes for them had earned Jora and Arson's loyalty, hence their release from chains. Galrum, on the other hand, remained resistant, albeit reluctantly continuing to work under the looming threat of violence.
Baldur had explained to the trio shortly after subduing them that attempting to kill him would result in "prison time" and a labor sentence based on their willingness to commit the act and their behavior as prisoners.
"Jora, after you've eaten, I need you to start cutting planks with the sawmill. Save any wood shavings you collect—they're important," Baldur instructed, his voice firm yet considerate. Turning to Galrum, he continued, "And Galrum, you'll take over digging the trenches from Arson while he assists Jora."
Galrum merely grunted in response, while Arson wiped the sweat from his brow and eagerly set down his shovel. "You got it, Boss!" Arson exclaimed, met with a nod of acknowledgment from Baldur.
Having delegated his tasks, Baldur made his way to the forge, where he would begin crafting a mold and deckle for papermaking. The sooner he completed his papermaking apparatus, the faster he could delve into deciphering the alphabet and test its efficacy in runesmithing.
Baldur held onto hope that his plan would succeed, as the alternative—attempting to enchant objects using spells—was an uncharted territory for him, leaving him utterly clueless.
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Despite not being a child of Athena, Baldur found himself completing his alphabet with surprising speed. It took him only three days after acquiring his supply of homemade paper. Eager to explore the possibilities, he immersed himself in a realm of experimentation.
Baldur's affinity for the runes of this unfamiliar world proved to be advantageous. Not only was his unique system of runesmithing effective, but it also seemed to benefit from the transition from Ancient Greek to the runic language transcribed in the leather book. With its subtle variations within the runic characters, Baldur was able to breathe new life into his runesmithing, infusing it with an essence that was both primal and potent.
Aware of the strain normal enchanting put on his magical reserves, Baldur began his experiments with caution, starting with simple barrier wards. As his initial attempts proved successful, he ventured into more complex enchantments.
The exhaustive testing to push the limits of these runes consumed a full month, punctuated by frequent breaks to replenish his strength. Baldur found himself winded after each endeavor, a sensation he was unaccustomed to. Another anomaly surfaced in the time it took for him to recover his magical energy. Previously, an hour or so of rest would suffice, but now it required nearly half a day. Although the duration gradually decreased, the change seemed minute, perhaps a matter of minutes. Baldur resolved to build a timepiece to accurately measure his recovery time and document any further alterations sometime soon.
During this month of testing, Baldur managed to complete most of his preparations. He fashioned a wardstone—a focal point for his wards—and erected a barrier around his home. This protective barrier not only prevented intruders from entering but also gradually raised the temperature in the surrounding area above freezing.
Initially, the wards encompassed only the walls of his base. However, by creating additional markers cleverly disguised as ordinary stones, Baldur extended the barrier's coverage to approximately 10 acres, ensuring enhanced security.
With the basic wards in place, Baldur dedicated time to upgrading his equipment. His cherished tomahawk, now entirely forged from Bone Steel except for a horn grip, took the form of a ring. The ring contained a central band that, when spun, transformed into the weapon itself. He had also inscribed runes that would return the weapon to his hand with a simple gesture, much like Thor's hammer.
Baldur's shovel, on the other hand, underwent more drastic changes. After replacing the shaft with Bone Steel, he installed a button that, when clicked, folded the shovel head toward the shaft and enlarged, transforming it into a kite shield while retaining the shape of the original shovelhead.
The most time-consuming task for Baldur, however, was the completion of the first iteration of his Mandalorian Armor. During his time between leaving the orphanage and his involvement with Camp Half-Blood, Baldur sought solace in movies as a way to distract himself when he couldn't tinker, with the Star Wars franchise leaving a lasting impression.
The technological marvel of Mandalorian armor fascinated him. While replicating all of its features was currently impossible, Baldur managed to craft armor that captured its distinctive look. Enchanted to keep the wearer warm and to reinforce the leather flight suit beneath the plates enough to withstand slashing and piercing attacks from steel armaments, Baldur was overall pleased with his recreation.
Aware of the harsh nature of the snowy terrain he might encounter and the potential dangers posed by blizzards, Baldur took proactive measures to enhance his gear for the arduous journey ahead. He meticulously enchanted his helmet, boots, cloak, and utility belt, ensuring that each item would offer him unparalleled advantages in navigating through the unforgiving winter landscape.
Baldur's helmet, a crucial component of his protective gear, was enchanted to provide him with crystal-clear vision even in the harshest of weather conditions. By uttering the activation word "viamgol," the helmet's enchantment would be invoked, instantly dispelling any blinding snow or icy fog that might impede his sight. With this enhanced visual acuity, Baldur could deftly detect hidden dangers and navigate with precision, maintaining a constant vigilance in his surroundings.
His boots, a vital asset for traversing the treacherous terrain, bore an enchantment that defied the laws of nature. When he uttered the activation word "yjorn," his boots would grant him the ability to walk atop both snow and water, as long as he kept moving forward. The enchantment created a temporary barrier beneath his feet, allowing him to tread upon these otherwise impassable surfaces without sinking or losing his footing. With this enchantment, Baldur gained unparalleled mobility, unhindered by the elements that would otherwise impede his progress.
The enchantments on his cloak and utility belt were designed to provide continuous and invaluable assistance throughout his journey. His cloak, using the activation word "Rhadav", possessed an enchantment that allowed him to seamlessly blend into his surroundings when he remained still. The fabric of the cloak would subtly shift in color and texture, mirroring the natural environment around him, rendering him virtually invisible to the untrained eye. This enchantment granted Baldur the advantage of stealth and camouflage, enabling him to evade potential threats and move undetected through the wintry landscapes.
Baldur's utility belt, another essential tool in his arsenal, boasted an enchantment that transcended the limitations of physical space. This enchanted belt possessed an extraordinary storage capacity, capable of housing an extensive array of mundane tools and supplies. Whether he required a small lockpick, a length of sturdy rope, or a versatile multi-tool, his belt could produce the necessary item with a mere thought. This enchantment granted Baldur unparalleled convenience, ensuring that he would always have the right tool for any given situation, without the burden of carrying a cumbersome assortment of equipment.
Adorned in his newly crafted armor, Baldur cast a final gaze over his camp before retrieving his compass and the leather book. In his absence, he entrusted Jora with leadership and the responsibility to ensure the others continued their work as agreed.
As a precaution, Baldur refrained from mentioning the additional "protection" surrounding his main living area, but he did reveal that any damage to his belongings would result in severe consequences. Jora and Arson chuckled nervously at the mention of consequences, while Galrum, as usual, remained silent.
Though Baldur wasn't overly concerned about the loyalty of the former two, Galrum posed a potential problem. The thought of eliminating the threat crossed Baldur's mind since he wouldn't be present to keep a watchful eye on the larger man.
Eventually, after careful consideration, he decided against it. Despite Galrum's reluctance to work, his strength outweighed that of the other two combined, making him a valuable asset. And as long as his value outweighed the trouble he presented, he would allow the man to live.
According to the instructions in the book, Baldur was to follow the river that flowed next to his base in the northern direction, passing by the distinctive rock formation shaped like a fist he had previously seen. He would continue along the river until it eventually forked, and then he was to take the fork and follow it left until reaching the end. At the top of a mountain with a broken peak, he would find the entrance to the first barrow.
With these initial instructions in mind, Baldur set out along the river, diligently following its course. He trekked onward until the light of day began to fade, signaling the approach of night. Choosing a suitable spot within the forest, he set up a simple camp for the night. Unhooking his sleeping mat and unfurling a bear pelt, Baldur prepared to rest. However, mindful of his safety, he retrieved a small wardstone from his bag, no larger than his clenched fist.
Knowing the wardstone would only offer a limited area of protection—a small radius of five feet—Baldur placed it beside his sleeping mat. He settled down for the night, still wearing his armor—a habit he had developed during his unwilling participation in the Second Titan War.
In the midst of the night, Baldur stirred, an unsettling feeling creeping over him. Sensing that he was being watched, he quickly scanned his surroundings, only to discover three pairs of glowing eyes encircling his protective barrier. Perfectly spaced and moving in a synchronized circle around him, their eyes locked onto Baldur with an intense focus.
Determined to get a better look, Baldur reached into his pack nearby and retrieved his lantern. With a twist of the knob at the base, the rune embedded within the lantern instantly illuminated the surroundings. Bathed in the soft glow, Baldur could now discern the figures behind the glowing eyes—they were three large cats, resembling mountain lions but adorned with white stripes reminiscent of tigers.
As Baldur's gaze pierced the shadows, he discerned a figure leaning against a tree, barely visible at the edge of the lantern's light. Clad in furs from head to toe, with a hood concealing their face, the person seemed to blend seamlessly with the wilderness. When their eyes met, Baldur noticed a faint glow emanating from the stranger's eyes, much like the large cats that encircled him.
The man leaned forward slightly, his rough voice breaking the silence. "Tell me, Crow, what brings you so far north? And why do you wear such thin hides and metal? Unwise choices," he remarked, his words laden with a sense of age and weariness. Curiously, Baldur understood him perfectly, despite the man's rough voice.
Baldur furrowed his brow, contemplating whether to dispatch the stranger or attempt a peaceful resolution so he could return to his slumber. Weighing the options in his mind, he decided that it wasn't worth the effort to rise from his position. "Just move along, stranger. You won't find what you're seeking with me."
The voice taunted him, carrying a hint of amusement. "Ah, your mastery of the Old Tongue is impressive. You speak it fluently, without a hint of hesitation. You're no ordinary Crow, that's for certain." The figure appeared intrigued by Baldur's command of the ancient language.
"Leave me be," Baldur's voice took on a more menacing edge, his narrowed eyes conveying his displeasure. He despised individuals like this stranger—those who disregarded his words and persisted in their relentless chatter.
Perhaps sensing the gravity of the threat, the enigmatic man bowed slightly before Baldur. "I am Torvir the Undying. Pleasure to make your acquaintance, Metal Man." With that, as if manipulated by invisible strings, Torvir collapsed to the ground, while the cats encircling Baldur's protective wards abruptly halted, shaking their heads to dispel a fog that had clouded their minds.
One of the majestic cats swiped at the ward, but finding its claws ineffective against its magic, it decided the effort was futile. The trio gradually retreated into the darkness, their journey halted at Torvir's motionless body.
As the enigmatic figures dissolved into the shadows, concealing themselves along with Torvir's lifeless body, Baldur found himself bewildered. The encounter left him with a myriad of questions, the answers to which remained elusive for now. Knowing the futility of dwelling on the situation before him, Baldur consciously decided to shelve the encounter, allowing it to fade into the recesses of his mind.
With a resolute exhale, Baldur extinguished the light of his lantern, plunging the immediate surroundings into darkness once more. Baldur was finally able to return to his slumber, the ease with which he drifted back into sleep a testament to his years of evading danger, allowing him to seize the rest he needed whenever the opportunity arose.
Time drifted, elusive as the wisp of a dream, until morning's first light began to shine on the horizon. Slowly, the darkness faded, allowing the crack of dawn to peek through the canopies of towering trees. The landscape gradually revealed itself, bathed in hues of pinks and oranges.
Baldur stirred and threw a glance toward the spot where Torvir had stood hours before. The area was now devoid of any lingering evidence, as if the meeting had been but a figment of his imagination. Nevertheless, a flicker of intrigue remained, hidden in the back of his mind.
With a final, lingering gaze toward the spot Torvir had been, Baldur packed up and moved toward the river to continue his journey.
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A/N: Thanks for reading. I just wanted to clarify some things about Baldur since I seem to have done a terrible job at fully explaining the reasoning behind some of his decisions. He isn't just all rage, piss, and anger. I was trying to make him more of a pragmatist.
Baldur killed Varmir in the first chapter for a combination of two reasons: firstly, he tried to attack Baldur; and second, he was a convenient source of materials for Bone Steel. The human blood was the most important part of the whole exchange for reasons that will be explained more in depth later.
For Baldur's second kill, it was a show of force. He didn't need to kill anyone in the exchange with Galrum's group, but he did it after knocking out Jora and Arson to show that he had the power to end their lives in an instant if he so chose. He has sort of a god complex and views mortals as below him now.
With the wildling who messed with his steam engine, I tried to show that Baldur doesn't play games when it comes to his stuff, no matter if he held any fault or not. He is ruthless, and certain things bring out a darker side to him.
Hopefully this explains some things.
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