Thorvald’s Wyrd 088
The wind grew stronger as he walked north, ever farther into the Glittering Plain. His mind constantly churned the guilt he felt over the deaths he’d given. Not just those of the quest, but each of the dozen men he’d killed in his raiding days. How many had wives and families, fighting only because strangers came to their shore to loot what they had built?
Thorvald walked, ignoring the hunger in his stomach and the numbing cold of Jotunheim and even the lack of light. Hours passed, or days, or weeks. Years gone, and still he walked the dying path.