When night finally came and the sun dipped in the distant horizon, a thrall walked in and carried a single tray of food and water for Thorstein. I forced away the part of my mind that longed for both of those things – I was parched and starving and it wasn’t even two days yet. Still, I breathed in and closed my eyes and forced my mind to calm down. The Gods never offered and impossible challenge. Everything they sent my way was something that I was fully capable of doing. And that meant I wouldn’t die of hunger and thirst; I could still meet my death, of course, but at least not from either of those things. Since I wasn’t sleepy just yet and with nothing else to do, I decided to test my mutations to see if they functioned in the manner that I figured they would.

The first mutation, I guessed, made weapons feel natural in my hand. It didn’t make me any better at fighting, but it made things less unwieldy for me, which was a great boon. I knew this was probably true, because I’d never held a spear before; I’ve seen plenty of them, of course, but I’ve never held one in my hands. And yet, during my training with Morkai, I held the spear as though I’ve been holding it my whole life.

The second mutation, which was the one that needed further testing, was a sudden increase in strength that came with anger. The angrier I probably was, the stronger I’d become. I figured that was probably how I was able to land that spear and shatter both the spearhead and the shaft with an attack that should’ve just bounced off. I had even crushed the wood in my grip into splinters. That... normally wasn’t possible. I had never been possessed of a level of strength that was unnatural when compared to my peers. It was the only thing I could think of that might allow me to perform such a feat of strength.

“You refused your meal yesterday,” Thorstein suddenly spoke. He did not turn to me as he did, however. Instead, he continued eating. “Why?”

I shrugged. “The Whale offered me a challenge. I do not intend to fail.”

He nodded as though it made sense to him. He spoke as he chewed. “I see. Then, I hope you know what you’re doing.”

Thorstein followed his words with a scoff.

I wasn’t particularly angry at the moment; so, I wasn’t sure how to test the second mutation.

Thorstein was ignoring me as he ate and stuffed his ugly face full of food and drank water. How dare he drink and eat! How dare he take that food that should be mine! I HATE HIM! AAAAAAAAAAAAGHHH!

Ah...

That was easy.

But, maybe, that wasn’t such a good thing.

My father once said, though not to me, that a warrior who was quick to anger would be easier to defeat than one who was possessed of a calm and sound mind.

My mind was anything but calm and sound at that moment.

I breathed in and felt the thrum of anger that’d permeated the core of my being. I glanced at Thorstein and growled. But, I did not turn my rage towards him, of course; there was no need for that and, really, he was innocent. And I was free to eat whenever I wanted to, but that would mean willingly failing and disappointing the Whale. Instead, I channeled my rage towards the iron bars that locked me in this place. I grabbed one of the bars, seething with unrestrained fury, and pulled. My arm and my grip buckled. The iron bar did not give in immediately. It groaned, however, like a dying animal. The metal released a tortured scream as I roared and pulled with all my might. As I did, I turned my mind towards all the things that filled me with anger – the death of my father, followed by the death of my mother, squirrels, and mosquitoes.

Gods damned mosquitoes. All they did was bite my skin and buzz in my ears incessantly.

Whatever god created such creatures deserved to be pulled from their throne and torn to shreds until there was nothing left of them.

“RAAAAAAAAAAGH!”

The metal groaned and buckled and bent until it broke and I was sent hurling back with a metal bar in my hand.

Ah, so that’s how it worked. The second mutation made me stronger if I was angry, peaking when I stopped thinking entirely and was driven entirely by anger. I didn’t like thinking, but I’d admit to the fact that it was useful in everything, including fighting. To have my mind fully clouded by fury was a good way to get killed.

Still carried by my earlier momentum, I tripped on a small pebble on the floor. My head crashed into the solid stone wall behind me; a brief pang of pain followed and then I blacked out.

The sun had already risen when I awoke. Thorstein was still asleep. The sky was a dark red, which meant it was still early in the dawn. The back of my head hurt and I felt some matted blood and dirt when I reached back to touch it – reaching all the way to my neck. No matter; I was alive and that meant my injury was light. I could ask Morkai if I could take a bath later, after whatever challenge awaited us for the morning. I frowned as I pushed myself up onto my feet. My stomach grumbled painfully and my head spun. My mouth felt drier than firewood on a hot summer day.

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I tried to speak, but all that came from my throat was a hoarse rasp that seemed akin to the noise that animals made when they searched for prey or mates at night. I didn’t have to talk, at least. Only three more days of this torture and I’d receive a boon from the Whale.

Someone walked into the dungeon in that moment. I realized quickly enough that it was Borg. I leaned against the bars of my prison, idly noting the fact that I did, in fact, pull one out, which meant there was now enough space for me to slide through with some effort. The old warrior, Borg, however, immediately noticed this as he eyed the missing bar and then found said bar inside my cell, mangled and bent out of shape. He raised a brow as he turned to me and nodded. He wasn’t angry, I noted quickly. In fact, he almost seemed impressed. “Lord Morkai wishes to test your ability to kill – you and the boy. Your challenge will begin soon; come with me.”

I turned to Thorstein to find him slowly and drowsily getting up from the floor. He must’ve heard Borg’s words. That was good. Thorstein claimed, once, that he knew how to kill. I wanted to see just how well he could do that. We were both led out of our cells and followed closely behind Borg. Blood Hall was not as lively as it had been yesterday, when the sacrifice was held. In fact, it all seemed... mundane. I spotted a fisherman, selling salmon and cod, fresh from the sea. A hunter sold the freshly-butchered parts of some furry beast. The ground, covered in snow, was tinted with a faint red – blood. I realized that we were walking through the marketplace, where animals were being butchered and cut apart all around us. It was their blood that tinged the ground. I saw sheep being cut apart, alongside deer, elk, and other wild game; there were even a few mammoth parts here and there.

Mammoths were sacred to the Whale; only a Chosen of the Whale were allowed to hunt them, without earning the ire of the Gods. Morkai was a Chosen of the Wolf. That meant there was another Chosen in Blood Hall – someone I have not had the pleasure of meeting. It was said that the Chosen of the Whale were unnaturally and inhumanly durable, able to withstand great pain and physical harm that would kill every other man. I’ve heard stories of them surviving decapitation, wandering bloody battlefields in search of their missing heads. But those were just stories, right?

We were not taken into the arena this time, where Morkai and I had trained yesterday. Instead, Thorstein and I were led into the woods, whereupon we were immediately greeted by armored warriors, standing near the tall pine trees or just walking around. Why were they gathered here? I didn’t know. I suppose we’d find out soon enough. Borg greeted the warriors and they greeted back. A few of them started walking with us. We were following a forest trail, I realized, marked by wooden posts with snarling bestial skulls atop them. I recognized a few of the skulls, such as those that belonged to the fearsome Kin-Wolves – half men beasts who roamed the deep woods, searching for those unlucky or unwary enough to venture into their territory. I saw one before, briefly, as it passed by a clearing whereupon I’d laid my snares to catch hares. As large as a bear it was, but lithe and sinewy, like a man, but not – akin to a wolf, but not quite, either. No one knew where the Kin-Wolves came from, but to hunt one was considered a great feat of strength. To have so many of their skulls atop pikes was a bold declaration of power.

They led us into a clearing of sorts, where a great host of Blood Hall warriors had gathered, forming a circle around something that I could not see. I was short and they were tall; the furs and metal plates they wore did little to subtract from their apparent size. Still, there was commotion about something, which – for warriors – meant there was something mildly violent going on. I also recognized Morkai’s voice, but I did not understand a word he said amidst the raucous laughter and loud voices. Our arrival did not go unnoticed as several of the warriors quickly announced our arrival by way of mouth. Soon enough, nearly everyone had their eyes turned towards us.

We stepped forth just as a few warriors stepped aside to let us pass. And there I saw what they’d gathered around. Morkai, a Chosen of the Wolf, was manhandling a bloodied and shirtless young boy into the ground while the warriors laughed around them. Morkai himself seemed to be having fun. The boy was older than both Thorstein and I by maybe six or seven years; he was already a man by that point, but not quite as grown as the warriors around us. He stood two heads taller than me. A mop of messy and dirty blonde hair faintly obscuring his hateful eyes. His torso, neither thin nor fat, but well-muscled, was covered in scars and festering wounds.

The boy roared as he charged Morkai once again, before the Chosen of the Wolf simply reached out and held the boy by his neck. “Hold this one for a moment.”

Morkai lightly pushed and sent the boy hurling towards the warriors, who laughed as they held him down by his arms, forcing him to his knees. The boy snarled and roared, but his challenge was not met. The warriors merely laughed at him. I raised a brow as Morkai approached me. His draconic cape billowed in the wind. I looked up and met his burning gaze. “Leave us, Borg.”

The old warrior bowed and quickly left. “I have a challenge for you and the whelp.”

I nodded. I was tired, hungry, and more than a little angry. But I was also eager and excited. No doubt the Gods would be watching. I couldn’t fail. “What sort of challenge?”

Morkai turned his head towards the downed boy. “That little shitstain over there was part of a raiding party from Skoth; he’s the only one left. I want you to kill him – you and the whelp you follows you.”

At that Morkai whistled. Spears, real ones this time, were brought out and given to the both of us – one for Thorstein and myself. The shaft was smooth and the spearhead was sharp and hard. It was a tool to kill and it would do a fine job. I frowned and raised a brow, despite the weapon I held freely and comfortably. “Is this to be an execution? Borg told me it would be a challenge.”

Morkai huffed and turned and nodded at someone beyond my gaze. The boy from earlier was released and given a spear of his own. And, suddenly, I realized why this was to be my challenge. The boy was a warrior, despite his age. He was participating in a raiding party, after all. Given his build, it was safe to assume that he would be stronger and faster than I.

I grinned.

Morkai turned his burning gaze back to me. I could tell he was grinning as well. “Kill him.”

The Gods then, in that moment, saw fit to make things more difficult.

Quest Received:

Defeat Your Opponent Without Taking Any Form of Damage, Reward: 1 skill and 1 perk (Undivided)