A fireplace dominated one wall of the long, rectangular room, and in front of that fireplace stood a thick pine pole. A pair of posts extended out from either side of the pole, and once the feathers settled down Einarr faced the impassive stares of two enormous ravens. He swallowed.
Unsure how one addresses the beings one intends to steal from, he took a step further into the room. “I am Einarr, son of Stigander, of Raenshold. I believe you know why we are here.”
One of the ravens cocked its head to the side and croaked “Cursebreaker.”
The other one dipped as though to grab a morsel of food from thin air. “First accursed.”
“I’m… going to take that as a yes.” Einarr stepped further into the room, never taking his eyes from Wotan’s familiars.
The one who had dipped its head lifted it again with a jerk to…
View original post 1,082 more words