The harbour smelled of salt and gulls wheeled overhead. Daz and Aaron stepped onto the quay, two Vikings with their fate unwritten. Whispers of shadows and vanished boats hung in the air. Their journey began there, upon the stones of Vigra.

Oh the quay beneath my feet (echoes, feet, feet)

Whispers ride the sea-salt breeze

Aaron by my side, the gulls cry loud

Something in the water waits for me

The Whaling Hut stank of death. A vast whale lay broken, its flesh cut by strange steel. From its wounds, Daz drew a shard of foreign iron. Villagers gasped—it bore a rune of dark design.

Steel in the skin of the whale so cold

Iron whispers, secrets untold

Too clean, too sharp, not of these lands

Shards of shadows in my trembling hands

At the Forge, sparks rose as the blacksmith turned the shard. His voice was grim. “No iron of Vigra, no hand of our kind. This bears a rune, faint, but binding. This is sorcery.” The shard was passed to the Story Hut, where the rune-keeper read its lines: beasts, storms, tethered by dark magic.

Runes in the fire, runes in the smoke

Binding chains the sea-gods broke

Foreign steel, foreign song

The shadow’s grip is dark and strong

The forest waterfall thundered, mist rising in rainbow arcs. There, visions came: longships with black sails, beasts writhing under sorcery, a cloaked figure waiting. The shard pulsed with power. Daz and Aaron carried it onward, to the Bathing Cave in the rainy village.

Waters crash—rainbow burning

Visions flicker, tides are turning

Black sails rise on the fjord so deep

Cloaked in shadow, gods that weep

In the Bathing Cave, the pool glowed with sacred light. Together, Aaron held the shard steady as Daz lowered it into the waters. The rune flared, then broke. A warmth filled the cavern: the gods had judged them both worthy. They returned to Vigra as heroes, shield-brothers, saviours of their people.

Together we held, together we won

Brothers of steel, beneath the sun

The rune is broken, the curse undone

Daz and Aaron—Victory won!