i have edited out a number of tabes in which Valius explanes the relative values of the local currencies and accounting the cost of his purchases in detail.
So it was that come the morning i rejoined with Iarrarl.
She sat atop a large gray hose, her lose lien shirt fluttering in the morning wind.
“So you are ready to visit the land of ice? To feel your bone chill in the wind?
I hope for your sake you are Valius.”
I have taken the liability of correcting much of the grammar, in a effort to aid the reader.
And so in the cold morning light, we head north in to the chilly breath of Boreas.
I awoke to Iarrarl boot hammering into my side, riseing out from under my cloak i sore that she had a brace of rabbit in hand.
“The snares where good today, Here this ones yours.”
Iarrarl held hers in both hands raising its feet up high, before quickly biteing its neck open.
The vision of her suckleing away as it neck was quite off putting and i lost all appetite…
Days pasted in a dull unending march as we slowly headed north as the wind grow colder.
As we encountered the first snow capped mountains in the distance,
Iarrarl charged her clothes from a wearing a lien shirt and breeches, it was what i can only describe as a mass of furs stitched and lashed togeater.
It was mid-morning when Iarrarl called a halt.
She leaned in close to me and spoke quietly.
“Valius, i don’t want you to worry, but we are being followed.
That mean we have to change the route.”
She pointed up side to small opening in the hillside.
“Theres a cave there im going to ride ahead and see if we can hold it, you follow up slowy.”
“But won’t we get trapped? they can just set out side the cave and starve us out?”
I asked confused as to her choice of us walking into a trap.
She forced back a giggle “No, we have far more food than them, and they will attack us, there ihmissyöjä, Man Eaters.
This is there hunting ground and we are the game.”
She was fast up the hillside and i was much faster, fear speeding my climb.
At the cave mouth, i turned and court my first glimpse of these “ihmissyöjä”,
thay where moveing in the distance, more like fur coved ants then men.
A slow drum beat started echoing, bringing dread to the air.
Iarrarl was all most happy as she pull her armour and weapons from her house.
Swiftly she donned her armour, a cuirass, made from a dozen wooden slats, each pieced and firmly lashed to neighbours with leather thong.
Throwing the brown skin of bear over her shoulders she stared out of the cave, clutching a long handled axe in her hands.
I must of been a less impressive figure beside her, as we waited with blades in hand.