Eirik steps on the quay, wood under boots, the salt in the wind,

Seagulls crying above, fishy scent swirling, the village begins—

Longships glinting in the sun, smoke curls from the Jarl’s home,

A whisper calls, a quest unfolds, the day is ripe, he is alone.

Oh Eirik, oh, the ship hums, the keel glows green,

Touch the wood, feel the pulse, what’s this curse, what does it mean?

Burly shipwright mutters low, eyes wide, hands shake,

A rune of binding, a shadow deep, who would dare such a stake?

Call him over, show the glow, together lift the spell,

Or go alone, brave the dark, prove yourself or fail as well—

But fear takes hold, Eirik turns, steps back from the glowing light,

The longship waits, a chance lost, adventure ends this night.

The quay stretches wide, crates and nets, the gulls dive, squawk,

A market hums, a baker calls, coins jingle, traders talk—

The forge rings out, hammer on steel, sparks leap like tiny stars,

The combat platform waits, axes clash, scars of glory and of wars.

Oh Eirik, oh, the village breathes and hums,

The Jarl’s hut towers, smoke and fire, the sea’s song drums—

The ice cavern twists, a darkened path, feasts hidden in the cold,

The waterfall crashes, rainbow mist, secrets waiting to be told.

The Ship Maker’s Hut, wood scent thick, longship half-built and bright,

Green pulse throbs beneath the keel, a magic hidden from sight—

The shipwright’s eyes, a story told, of curses and binding runes,

Eirik’s hands hover, choice must come, shadows dancing in the noon.

Oh courage, oh, the rune hums in the sun,

Lift it with the shipwright’s aid, or flee, your quest undone—

The pool of water, the bathing cave, the rainy village waits,

The wrestling circle, jousting grounds, all calling for your fates.

Eirik, oh, oh, your boots on wood and sand,

The harbour, longship, and village wide, adventure in your hand—

Next time the courage takes the lead, the pulse will guide your way,

Through Vigra’s huts and hidden paths, for another Viking day .