Nestled deep within the Greywood Vale, where pine trees and dark forests stood silently covered in perpetual snow, the small village of Harroweld sat. The village was not large or remarkable, even, only a scatter of timber homes wreathed in smoke and snow that were built along a winding stream fed by the mountain's thaw.
The quiet scent of pine and bread mixed together in the early morning. The sun had just about risen, and the village folk were already up and about. Hunters and woodcutters left the safety of the small but sturdy village, blacksmiths were beating iron in the forges, and bakers were kneading dough before the smallest ray of sun even came alight.
The people of Harroweld were tough, hardened people of the North. Made to withstand the cold bitterness of the frontier amongst the giant mountain ranges that surrounded them.
"Hey Eirik! Wait for me!" amongst the clattering of hammers and the eventual rise of children's laughter, a voice broke through the noise with ease.
At a certain area in the village, a young man called out, his heavy voice rising as he ran. The man was broad-shouldered and heavily muscled with a rugged appearance much to the likeness of the northerners. A deep set of steely blue eyes stared at the young man by his side, whom he eventually caught up to.
"You're early today, are you nervous for the upcoming trail?" the young man asked, his voice teasing.
The young man, Eirik, sighed. "Yeah, and you?"
"Nope! I have been dreaming of this day since we started training!" the muscular man laughed boisterously. His thick, well-groomed beard, the color of a winter storm cloud, which was braided beautifully, swayed as he continued to laugh.
"Yeah, I shouldn't even have bothered asking," the man called Eirik spoke, glancing at his hulking friend with a smile.
Eirik himself was not small by any means; he stood a little taller than most in Harroweld, broad in the shoulders like his father had been, though there was a lean, rangy strength in his frame.
But compared to Torvin, his bear-like friend, he paled in comparison. And unlike Torvin, who had a waterfall braided beard, his was trimmed and light, always neat, much like how his ash-brown hair was tied with a tie in a low ponytail.
"You know that would mean that we would be separated for quite a while. You're sure you're going to be okay, don't need me to come and babysit you." Eirik turned to his friend and gave a sheepish smile.
"Bah! I would be fine, it's you I'm worried about." The large man, obviously knowing his friend was joking, reciprocated before turning serious, "And I'm serious, Eirik, are you going to be fine? That injury of yours isn't something to take lightly, especially if were going up the Eldvorn Crag."
His steely blue eyes glanced worriedly over.
"Mhmm, I'll manage. Besides, if I can reach the Eldvorn Stone and receive a blessing… then… hopefully we can cure it," with a slight glimmer of hope in his eyes, Eirik turned towards Torvin with a smile.
"So don't worry about me, I won't stop until I receive a blessing!"
Watching his friend gleaming in hope, Torvin chuckled slightly. Both of them knew the chances of curing an injury like his would be slim. Not even the village healer could heal his injured leg with a blessing, and most of them weren't capable of doing so, but neither of them needed to repeat such words.
"I believe you would," Torvin gave a laugh, trying to ease the somewhat sour atmosphere that appeared.
"And what blessing would you like to have?" Changing the topic, Eirik asked with a sly smile, knowing the answer.
"Of course I want a Bear spirit blessing! What else? The rest of them don't suit me, I want to fight and brawl with pure strength, not run away like some of those idiots with wolf blessings," the large bear-like man scoffed.
Eirik burst into laughter, "Yeah, yeah. And nothing else will do," He puffed his chest and mocked in imitation.
"You!' Torvin gazed at his friend, glaringly.
"Torvin! Eirik! What are you fools waiting for, we don't have all day!" an aged voice rang out through the area.
Eirik was startled but quickly composed himself as he turned to look ahead. An old man supported by a cane, dressed in coarse clothing, stared the two young men down.
Eirik and Torvin hurriedly made their way over, Eirik rather slowly compared to Torvin, but he eventually made it, just in time to see the elder scold the bear-like man, "Hmpf! You think since today is the trial you can go and ignore an elder like me and waste my time! Hmpf! Even if my strength has regressed I can still beat the shit out of you young man!"
The elder was small compared to Torvin, especially since the elder was hunched over. Eirik couldn't help but chuckle seeing the sight; it was like the mouse and the elephant situation. However, Eirik quickly silenced his chuckle after seeing the elder turn to him.
"And you! Even if you are injured I will still give you a beating. It seems the both of ya have been longing for some beating from me, it's been quite a while," the angry elder continued to shout, this time shaking his cane in anger as well.
Eirik found it comical, but he tried to hide his laugh, trying to be serious. "Agh! You bugger, come here! I shall give you a beating!" The elder saw Eirik's laughter, and he exploded.
The elder was about to rush towards Eirik when a calm and steady voice called out, "Come now elder Velko. Give the two some slack, we don't want them to fail the trail just because you beat them, now do we?"
From just over the small hill at the top, a figure came walking over. He was tall and broad-shouldered, a weather-worn face framed by a thick mane of iron-grey hair that fell down to his shoulder like the pelt of a storm-wolf. He walked steadily and slowly, with a soft smile, his pale, misty eyes latched onto the young ones gathered around.