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The Legend of Furra the Blue
Furra Meets with the Chief of the Blairs

Furra Meets with the Chief of the Blairs

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Furra sat before the chief of the Blair clan, her heart beating fast with nervousness. She scratched the chains around her wrists. She had seen this conversation in her visions, and she knew that the fate of her people rested on what she did right now. Her People. So strange to think of this band of nomadic misfits as her people. But they had followed her from the gutters of Eastern France, Constantinople, Hijaz, and further, and they believed in her and her visions. It was time the chief of the Blairs did so as well.

"Chief Bjorn Blair," she began, in the Norse she had learned on the road and in her visions, doing her best to subdue her Aksumite accent. "I know that you have suffered greatly at the hands of the Raudr Clan," she began, her voice steady. "But I have seen the balance of the future, and I know that we can turn the tide if we act now."

The chief leaned forward, his piercing blue eyes fixed on Furra's face. His beard was long and braided, and the ends were tied with silver clasps. His hair was the color of wheat, and it fell in thick waves around his broad shoulders. He wore a fur cloak that was fastened with a brooch of hammered gold, and a leather tunic that was decorated with intricate knotwork. His hands were calloused and scarred from years of battle, and a silver ring glinted on his index finger. Furra couldn't help but feel a sense of awe and respect for this powerful Viking warrior.

The chief's voice was deep and commanding. "Tell me more, slave."

She slowly stood to her feet, doing her best not to rattle the chains on her wrists and ankles. "I have been blessed with visions: the sight of the gods," she explained. "Odin himself has led me to you to show you the path to victory. I have seen the power of the Blair people, and I know that we can win back what was lost and more."

An amused smile crept across the chief's thick beard. "We? You think yourself one of us?" He laughed.

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Her hands clenched into fists. Ignoring his words, she continued. "We must unite the clans," she declared. "Together, we are stronger."

The chief's laugh grew louder and deeper. He looked at her callously. "And how do you propose we do that, little one?"

She tilted her head forward, her gaze piercing into him. Her infinitely dark eyes saw a sparkling of cyan deep within them. "Unity is inevitable, chief, but there is a price to be paid." Her eyes glowed blue. The chief squinted suspiciously. "There is a lack of foresight in the leadership of this clan. Clan Blair cannot rise to meet its challenges with a short-sighted leader such as you."

"How dare you!" the chief grunted.

She spoke quickly, her heart racing as her voice became louder so all could hear. "If you could think but a few steps ahead, you would've known about the attempt on your life." She paused, looking around the room, waiting for his jarls to run at her with swords and axes, but no one moved. "You would've posted better men at your perimeter to keep out the Raudr spearmen who are lurking closer even as I speak."

Bjorn stood up and drew his sword. "I will not tolerate your insolence any longer, witch." He lumbered towards her. "You cannot curse us if you are dead."

"The only one cursed here is you, Bjorn!"

He lifted his sword, ready to swing at her neck as he'd done to countless victims in his long bloodthirsty history. Instead of polishing his sword with the blood of an Aksumite, he saw Furra tilt slightly to the side as a spear flew past her from the now wide-open door of the mead hall and buried itself deep into his neck. He gurgled and gasped and fell back, convulsing and bleeding out.

The jarls in the room frantically looked about, seeing the assassin, clad in red, the colors of the Raudr clan. They chased after him. Screams from Bjorn's wife flooded the hall as she raced to his now motionless corpse.

Furra walked up the small steps to the chief's throne, picking up Bjorn's sword as she did. She held her hands out in front of her. A crackle of blue energy flashed across her chains, felling them to the ground. Holding the former chief's sword high, she declared, "Odin has declared the Blairs will no longer be led into destruction. He has blessed you with the sight of the gods, with me. I will lead you into victory." She looked out upon the gathering of confused Norsemen, her eyes glowing blue, and her voice echoing, "Or you will join your fallen chief."

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