One (Good?) Night Sleep Later

“Well, looks like someone was burning the midnight oil last night.”

John looked up from the bathroom sink, his gaze meeting Talia’s. She gave him a small grin as she leaned against the door frame. She was dressed in short shorts that made her legs look long and sexy and a t-shirt that had been ripped to show off her midriff. Had John gotten more than 4 inconsistent hours of sleep last night, he might have said something to compliment her. However, his brain power levels were currently somewhere between a 9-volt battery and the static electricity one builds up shuffling over a carpet. So it took him a solid minute to even notice that she was there, let alone what she was wearing.

“Have one too many wet dreams last night? I know I had a couple that made it hard to sleep.”

Skulls dripping with lava, the sounds of pain and suffering ringing in his ears. The feeling of his flesh endlessly burning away to the fires of Muspelheim and the sounds of Surtr laughing in glee at the destruction surrounding John.

“Um… C-close enough,” John said, desperately trying to shake the memories of his dreams from his head.

“Oooh, tell me then. Any special stars in your dream?” Talia said as she slid past him, looking for something in the medicine cabinet.

Ragnarok raged around him, the fires of Surtr burning away everything as they emerged from John’s fingertips. As the fires raged, the ashes of everything they touched slowly accumulated at John’s feet. A skeletal hand suddenly burst from the ash pile, grabbing onto the ground and dragging the rest of the corpse of John’s first victim from the spent cinders. His eyes stared ahead with a cold haunting gaze, his skeletal structure black and charred from John’s fire. He slowly opened his maw, and for the first time in his dream, John felt an icy chill roll over him. The fingers of Brett slowly closed around John’s throat, and a voice that was both Brett’s and John’s rang out over the sounds of pain and fire.

“MURDERER”

“Um… Yeah. Yeah someone did visit me. But… uh…” John looked over to Talia, noting in his head how happy she looked as she dug through the medicine cabinet. Her hips were swaying, her hair was done up in a neat ponytail, she had a consistent grin on her face and looked positively radiant with how much joy she had. He couldn’t rightly ruin her good mood with his stupid little nightmare.

“But… Um… I wanna keep the contents secret. Till… Till I think we are ready for it,” John said, trying to sound suave and slick but probably just coming off as really, really tired.

Talia rolled her eyes. “Okay, Lover Boy.” She gave him a wink before tossing him a small bottle. “Here. Take one of these.”

John barely caught the bottle of pills Talia threw at him in time. He looked down at them, his tired mind unable to make sense of the words he read on the label. “What is this?”

“Just a little pick-me-up. My dad sometimes gets lost in his work and forgets to sleep, so he takes one of those, and boom, instantly refreshed. Think of it as… Elvish coffee, but in pill form. And a lot stronger than your average shot of espresso.”

John looked at the bottle incredulously, but figured he didn’t have much to lose. After all, if they were going to the barrow today, he would need to be in tip-top shape, and not the sleep deprived mess of a person he was now. Plus, Talia seemed to have his best interest in mind, so what reason was there not to trust her on this one?

With a small shrug, he quickly undid the cap and popped a pill in his mouth, swallowing it down dry.

John waited a moment, then two, then three. “Um, I don’t feel any different-” Suddenly, a burst of energy shot its way through John. It was almost electrifying, the sheer amount of vigor and vitality coursing its way through his veins. He opened his eyes wide as a smile broke out across his face. “Holy SHIT that feels good!”

Talia chuckled and gave him a small hug. “Yeah, just be careful. Too many of those can be bad for you.”

John agreed with whatever it was she just said but kept looking down at his hands. He swore he could feel the blood and mana rushing through him. It reminded him a lot of when he first casted Glow, except that sense of euphoria was more akin to a scoop of sugar while this one was like a needle of heroin. (Not that John had any experience with hardcore ****, he was just guessing.)

John rolled his shoulders and looked up at Talia. “Alright, so, what’s our game plan for today? What’s first to do on the list? I figured we’re not going straight for the barrow, but we might be, and I just didn’t know it.”

Talia gave a small laugh. “I guess that **** worked its magic then. Yeah, we’re not heading straight there. Mom and Dad went to the market to pick up a few things. Dad said before that he left some stuff for us in the forge. I thought we could go get it together.”

Before Talia could even finish her statement, John grabbed her hand and started dragging her toward the door. “Well, come on then! Time’s a’wastin’!” They both laughed, running like a couple of schoolchildren down the stairs and out to her father’s forge. John was practically bouncing up and down with energy as Talia unlocked the door and let both of them inside.

In her father’s forge, on the center table, lay two separate piles of items, with a piece of paper in front of each that bore John and Talia’s names respectively. John went up to his like an excited child on Christmas morning and quickly started going through it. The first thing he noticed was the sword, still housed within its sheath. He carefully picked it up and drew it, a grin breaking out on his face as he realized which sword it was. It was the sword that he and Hálfdan had worked on together, the Kenaz runes shining brightly against the darkened metal. John quickly used Observe on it, wanting to know exactly what it was that he now had in his hands.

Firebite
14-18 slashing damage
+8 fire damage if Kenaz is activated (10/10 charges left)
A one-handed sword forged by Hálfdan Leifson, with Kenaz runes inscribed on it by John Newman.

John gave a small laugh before quickly moving the sword into his inventory to equip it from there. The sword disappeared for a brief moment as it entered the pocket dimension that was his inventory space, before reappearing on his left side, still in its sheath. John decided to give a few swings. At first, the sword felt a bit awkward, as he did not know where to put his hands, and he felt more like a child swinging around his father’s sword, one that was not made for him. However, after his first initial swings, a pop-up appeared in his vision.

Learn Swordsmanship (One-Handed)?
Y/N

John hit yes without a second thought. If it meant that he would be doing more damage with his blade and be able to teach Talia to use a sword as well, then of course he would accept it. The pop-up disappeared, and John didn’t feel any smarter. Although he couldn’t explain it, his limbs seemed to act on their own; his stance slightly altered, and his hand shifted, and his shoulders squared up, as if he had known the skill for years and was relying simply on muscle memory.

Talia’s voice brought him back into the present. “Wow. Nice sword, John. Almost as cool as… mine!” John turned and saw that she was holding a sword. This one, much like John’s, was made for one-hand use. However, while John’s was more of a sword sword, intended for one hand with a broader blade, Talia’s reminded him more of a scimitar, with a long, thin, curved blade.

John couldn’t help himself. “What, are you from Hammerfell? That’s a curved sword. Curved. Sword.”

Talia cocked her hip to one side, letting the sword’s tip touch the ground. “Do I look like a Redguard to you?”

They both shared a small laugh before John piped in again, “But seriously, I thought your parents didn’t know that you wanted to be a swordswoman.”

“They don’t. But it would also be really stupid to send their daughter into a dangerous barrow with no weapons. Most healers carry some form of weapon, usually a dagger, but since it’s only going to be the three of us, I guess my dad figured I’d be better off with anything else, even if that meant giving me a curved. Sword.”

“That would explain the armor then, too,” John said, gesturing to both of their piles, each consisting of some basic leather armor. Talia’s seemed to be a bit more tailored to her body measurements in contrast to John’s, which looked a bit more generic. John grabbed his armor and quickly equipped it, his normal clothes disappearing and the leather armor reappearing on his body within a fraction of a second.

Talia gave a small grumble. “See, you take all the fun out of getting changed with your powers. Girls want eye candy too.”

John turned to her. “I’m sorry, would you like me to change back into my clothes and then slowly change into my armor? Because that would be really inefficient and time-consuming.”

Talia dismissed him with a wave of her hand. “Don’t bother. Moment’s passed anyway. But next time, give me a bit of a show.”

“Fine, fine.” John held his hands up in defeat before turning back to the final item that lay on the table for him: a small cloth bag, closed with a drawstring, about twice the size of his runestone bag. John opened it up and took a look inside. Contained within were some basic survival supplies, as well as what appeared to be basic… tomb-robbing supplies. There were things like some flint and steel, tinder, and basic dried rations, but there were also things like a pen, pencil and paper, as well as a weighted bag of sand (a la Indiana Jones), and finally, a small bag of lockpicks. For, you know, all the totally legal actions one does with lockpicks inside of a tomb.

John rubbed the bridge of his nose. He really hoped he wouldn’t get arrested again.

At the very bottom of the bag was another small bag with a note on it. The note was signed by Frida, and simply read, Don’t make me a grandmother yet. Lo and behold, inside was half a dozen condoms.

Wonderful.

John turned to Talia, who was going through her own bag, and the blush on her face displayed which thing she just found inside of hers. She turned to John. “Mom gave you some too?”

“Well, I’d assume what I got would be different from what you got, but yes, your mother gave me some birth control.”

Talia gave a long sigh before closing up her bag and attaching it to her belt. Apparently she had changed into her armor while John was busy sorting through his own bag. He had to admit he regretted not getting to watch her change, but he supposed it was fair play since she didn’t get to see either. He stored his supply bag in his inventory, and after a moment, decided to try equipping it. A few simple clicks in his menu later, and the supply bag had been combined with his runestone bag, and both were now neatly hooked to his belt. It seemed a lot smaller, considering what was held inside, but he supposed the bag itself acted similarly to his inventory. In fact, a quick check of his inventory screen revealed that he had a bit more space, and he noted that he could now pull up a separate tab called Supply Satchel. After a bit of experimentation, he also learned that he could store a few things in the separate space and that he could quick-draw the items from the pouch if they were stored in the separate space.

You ready?” Talia asked as she adjusted the belt holding up her supply satchel.

“Damn, skippy, I am,” John replied, energy returning to him as his mind became unoccupied once again. Talia gave him a small smile, took his hand, and together they walked out of the forge. John’s thought process bounced back and forth, occasionally staying grounded in the reality of holding his girlfriend’s hand as they walked through her house but also jumping to random tangents, like interesting ways he could use his runes as well as fantasies of how to use those runes. Like, could he cast Uruz on himself to help him fuck Talia hard? Or a weak version of Kenaz to cause things to just warm up instead of catch on fire? Oooh, he could make his sword into one of those 1000 degree knife video things and cut through some cool things for views on youtube.

However, his thought process halted along with his body as they got into the main entryway and were reunited with Frida and Hálfdan. Hálfdan had a very casual look about him. He was wearing clothes similar to what he was wearing yesterday, and on his shoulder was a single large package. If it bore any significant amount of weight, he showed no signs of it - then again, the man was a blacksmith for a living. John assumed he could suplex his school’s entire football team and not even break a sweat. After all, blacksmithing is much more difficult than high school football.

Frida, on the other hand, had a whole new look about her. Yesterday she was clad in a loose, flowing dress that accentuated her curves and natural beauty. It had reminded John of dresses his mother would wear, back before she started having to work so much. Today, however, Frida was clearly ready to go barrow-diving. She was dressed in armor similar to that of Talia’s and John’s, but hers was much more ornate and also appeared to be a lot older. In addition, the it seemed to emit a soft glow, not unlike what the Ljosalfar emitted whilst in the dark. Strapped to her belt were about half a dozen daggers and two small satchels, of which the contents were unknown to John. Her long blonde hair was tied up in a ponytail, and her glasses were gone, making her look about twenty years younger (or… two hundred, in elf years?).

Hálfdan barked out a short laugh. “Well, it appears you two found your presents down there, didn’t you?”

Talia gave her father a hug. “All the armor fits perfectly, Dad! Thank you so much!”

Hálfdan gave her a one-armed hug back while still chuckling to himself. “And what about your armor? I had to guess on your measurements, but you looked to fit about a… medium-tall, I suppose.”

John nodded, his head bobbing quickly up and down, as if even his body was stuttering along with him. “Oh, it- it fits pretty well, sir! It’s a little loose in the shoulders, but… and it’s a little long on the legs… but it’ll work, and I can just wear a belt, and maybe one on my shoulders…? Do shoulder belts exist? I’m pretty sure that’s only an anime thing.”

Hálfdan looked a bit taken aback before laughing again. “Well, someone is certainly a morning person. Let’s hope you can keep that energy up when you’re in the barrow.” He gave a warm kind smile to Frida. “Reminds me a lot of myself when I was that young.”

Frida smiled slyly back. “If he’s anything like you were at that age, then I’ll have to keep a close eye on him, considering the power that he has. Lest he somehow bring down all of Alfheim.”

Hálfdan nodded in agreement, then returned his gaze to Talia and John. Carefully, he took the box off his shoulder and placed it down on the ground in front of them. “So, we were up early this morning gathering the last of the supplies you’ll need for this adventure of yours, just the stuff your mother and I didn’t have around the house.” He opened up the box and started pulling out some bags of items. “Some perishable food, some potions just in case, some smaller supplies that your mother requested… ah, yes! This!” He reached in with both hands and pulled out two medium-sized sleeping bags. “We’re not sure how big the barrow might be, but considering the age and how much the ancient Nords would’ve wanted to hide their greatest treasure, we figured you might be in there for a few days.” A worried look spread over Hálfdan’s face as he looked at all the supplies he’d laid out. “Though I suppose in our rush to ensure you have everything you’d need, we didn’t think of how heavy it’d be to carry all of it… hm…”

John quickly held up his hand to stop Hálfdan. “Don’t worry, sir! I’ve got this one covered.” He walked around, picking up the various items and, once prompted, swiftly popped them into his inventory. Just as John placed the last of the food inside, he felt a strong hand land on his shoulder.

“And still, your powers continue to amaze me, John.”

John turned to face Hálfdan and realized that he was offering him a hand to shake. As John took it, Hálfdan pulled him in close, almost into a bear hug, and softly whispered into his ear: “Be careful out there, John. No telling what you’ll run into in the barrow. And, if at all possible, I want you to keep an eye on my daughter.” John looked over to Talia, who was idly chatting with her mom. Hálfdan continued, “She’s strong, yes, but also naive. In addition, she tends to rush into things without thinking, like with you… and… your trial.” John felt a lump forming in his throat as he realized what Hálfdan actually meant to say. For a moment, the buzz of the energy pill seemed to wear off as the reality of the situation washed over him. Hálfdan finally pulled him out of the hug and moved to John’s side, placing a strong arm over his shoulder. They both watched as Talia and Frida giggled at a joke one of them had said. John smiled as he looked at Talia, and Hálfdan did the same as he looked at Frida. “We don’t get to see our son often, ever since he moved out… so, sometimes, it feels like Talia is our only child left.” Hálfdan looked to John, a great amount of concern and care in his lingering gaze. “Whatever happens in there, John, make sure Talia comes home safe. And make sure that she knows that we love her with all our hearts.”

Before John could interpret this cryptic message, Hálfdan let him go and walked over to his daughter, leaving John to stand there and mull over his words. What were Frida and Hálfdan so nervous about? What did they think they’d find in the barrow? And more importantly, why did they seem to know more than they were letting on? But before John could voice these questions, Talia’s hand found his, and they began walking away from her home. Hálfdan stood in the doorway, waving goodbye, with a proud - yet worried - smile on his face.

Hálfdan slowly shut the door, his smile vanishing as the rest of his worry set in on his aging body. He had put on a mask of enthusiasm for this little adventure, but he knew the whole time what they would find inside once Talia and John found the barrow - and there was no question in his mind as to whether or not they would find it. After all, Talia was at least twice as clever as he was a millenia ago, when he first found the barrow.

Without realizing it, Hálfdan had walked into his forge, and he found himself in front of one of his many locked shelves. With a quick twist of a key that he always kept on his person, he opened up the middle shelf and pulled out its sole contents: an old photo album, one that contained nearly a millenia’s worth of memories. He thumbed it open to one very specific page, one he would often find himself turning to whenever he remembered the days before Talia and his son were born. There, smiling back at him, was his first family. Frida, his fiancé at the time, was on his left, her arm lovingly twined around his. At his right stood his leader, the person he had looked up to most back then. He lowered his voice to a raspy whisper. “Gods of Asgard, I hope that they will see this day through and that Talia will still care for us after it has passed.”

He softly closed the photo album, his head bowed in a humble prayer as he offered a plea to his long dead commander.