“Det, der var dødt, lever nu for evigt.”

Said Mavis, who was walking in an almost trance like state towards the man whose barrow they all currently stood in. The man in question was clearly a ghost, not a draugr, as he had no signs of decay upon him and seemed to glow with a pale blue light. Despite the fact that he became the King of the Geats in life, his spirit wore the trappings of a warrior, and he would have looked more at home in a shield wall with his brothers than upon the throne where he rested. Leaning up against the side of his throne was a shield that bore the same glowing ethereal properties that he did, but his hands held no blade. He wore a crown that sat perched upon his long blonde hair, the hair leading its way down to a thick beard that covered a smiling face. He slowly stood from his throne and walked towards Mavis with his arms wide.

“Min lille klinge. It has been far too long since I have seen you.”

However, before Beowulf could get his arms around her, Mavis decided to greet his stomach with a solid right hook. Beowulf grunted, stepping back a bit with a laugh as Mavis began to berate him.

“You goddamned idiot!!! “Oh, don’t worry, Mavis, it’s just a dragon! You rest up, I’ll be back soon!” I fucking told you that you should have brought me with you, but nooooooo, use Naegling! That will definitely kill the motherfucking DRAGON!”

Beowulf gave a hearty laugh. “Well, it worked, didn’t it? The dragon died!”

“Yeah, but news flash: YOU DID TOO!”

“After the dragon did! Plus, look at what I managed to get from killing him.” He gestured to the barrow around him. “A tomb truly worthy of a king. Before those Skaven came in and stole a bunch of it, there was treasure piling every which way in here!”

“Oh, congrats! You managed to steal a bunch of gold from a dragon. You know what would have made that gold better? ACTUALLY LIVING TO USE IT!”

Beowulf laughed again and slapped Mavis on the back. “Oh, I have missed you, min lille klinge.” At this point he looked up to see John and Talia standing next to one another awkwardly. “Ah, but I see you have a new group to travel with. Nothing compared to the Geats, but I bet with your training they will give even me a run for my money.” He waved them over. “Come over and say hello!”

John and Talia slowly walked over, Talia with a look of awe across her features and John with a look of awe mixed with confusion. “K-King Beowulf? How… how are you speaking English?”

The King smiled. “One of the perks of being dead. I get to converse and meet a bunch of other dead people, as well as having plenty of time to learn other languages while I await Ragnarok.” The moment John was in range, Beowulf gave him a hearty slap on the back which nearly knocked John’s glasses off his face. “Now, tell me, boy, who might you be? I can tell you are Mavis’ new wielder, so I simply must know who you are.”

John slowly recomposed himself as he pushed his glasses back onto his nose. “J-John Newman, sir.”

Beowulf gave a nod. “Newman, eh? Wonderful!” He then turned to Talia and picked her hand up, kissing it softly. “And who might you be, oh one who rivals Freya in beauty?”

Talia giggled a bit and looked over to John. “Wow. Just as smooth as you, gamer boy.” She then turned back to Beowulf. “Talia Half-... Sorry. My name is Talia Nevergreen, daughter of Arvida and Halfdan.”

Beowulf’s eyes went wide at this. “Arvida’s daughter?” He then turned to look at Mavis, who made a cutting motion across her throat. Beowulf nodded. “I know of her. We met in these halls many years ago, and have since met in the halls of Valhalla.”

“She… she’s in Valhalla?”

Beowulf gave a nod. “Her friends ensured that she died with a weapon in her hand and honor in her heart. She had a strong and powerful spirit, your mother did, and the gods rewarded her for such.”

Talia looked away at this. “I… Um… Sorry, I just learned that she was my mother yesterday. I…”

Beowulf gave her a slight pat on the head. “I understand.” He then turned back to John. “So, my boy, to be someone worthy of wielding my Mavis, you must truly be a great warrior whose tales get sung by many a skald! Tell me of your great battles and fights!”

John turned red in the face as he was put in the spotlight. “Um… I… I killed a man… a couple days ago.”

Beowulf waved him off. “No no, something more epic worthy! Tell me of the monsters you have killed!”

John rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. “I… Um… I killed a draugr king that was buried a few levels higher.”

Once again, Beowulf waved him off. “No, boy. I mean the epic monsters! Giants, ogers, dragons, manticores, that sort of thing! Maybe even a Tarasque or two! Come on, only the greatest are able to wield Mavis, tell me of your tales!”

“I… I haven’t done anything like that.”

Beowulf gave him a blank stare. “You… haven’t?”

“No sir.”

“... What have you done to be able to wield my Mavis, then?” he said, slowly rising to his full height which, John noted, was considerably taller than John.

“I... I am Gaia’s chosen mage. I am to return Norse runic magic to the world and become a runic master.”

Beowulf cocked his head to the side, rubbing his chin in thought. “You… are a mage. Who is destined to do great, but has yet to do such.” He then turned to Mavis, who looked away sheepishly. He then looked back to John. “I must admit, Newman, you surprise me. You are unlike the other wielders of Mavis, and are not at all what I expected you to be.”

“Is… that a bad thing?”

Beowulf gave him a smile. “I guess we shall have to wait and see, won't we?” He rapidly turned on his heel and walked away from them. “Now, you managed to survive my barrow, find my old sword, and make it here alive even with the skaven infestation. I think you all have earned a few rewards. Unfortunately, the skavens made off with most of the gold and valuables that were in here before I could show up and cut them down to size, so take a look around and feel free to help yourselves. Any friends of Mavis are friends of mine.”

At this, Talia made haste over to one of the walls of the room. John watched as she began to look through the various swords and pieces of armor that the skavens had left behind akin to a kid in a candy store. Mavis grumbled something about Beowulf being a jackass before walking over to his throne and taking a seat on one of the armrests. Beowulf walked over to her, sitting down on the throne and trying to get her to talk to him. John decided to take this time to look around at the walls, hoping that whoever helped to make this tomb would have put a few runes on the walls.

The first few murals lacked any runes of power on them, or at least any runes he didn’t already have. The most he found was that the Thor mural had his godly rune hidden in a passage about Thor eating his goats, and a torch rune in the mural about Loki. However, when he went over to a mural depicting Skadi, he was pleasantly surprised to see the glow of a rune etched into her spear. It was just big enough that John could read it, and therefore big enough that he could fire an Observe on it to grab it.

Skadi: The Cold of the North
600 mp to cast
“Skadi, the goddess of winter, was very beautiful indeed, in her silvery armour, with her glittering spear, sharp-pointed arrows, short white hunting dress, white fur legging, and broad snowshoes.”
Casts “Frostbite” upon an enemy. Cannot be countered.

‘Oh wonderful,’ John thought to himself with a small grumble, ‘another rune I won’t use.’ He sighed and walked away from the mural. ‘At least it’s the rune I need for my quest.’ He thought to himself, pulling up his quest sheet

‘Well, looks like I need Odin’s rune as well as two others if I want the full reward. Hopefully I can just show the council that I have the runes in my glossary and that will count, since I can’t cast even the cheapest of these without dying.'

He pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose, peering around the room in search of other possible runes. He could see that Beowulf had managed to get Mavis talking again, and Talia was sitting on the other arm laughing at a joke that Mavis had just made at the old king’s expense. At her side sat a new sword, the hilt catching the light so that it shone and sparkled with every one of Talia’s laughs.

However, the light reflecting off Talia’s new sword didn’t come from the torches that illuminated the room. Rather, it came from another rune, shining under the mural dedicated to Hiemdallr. John quickly dashed over, taking a knee as he quickly casted Runic Observe on the rune in question.

Hiemdallr: The Watchman of Asgard
30 MP to cast
“He dwells in a place called Himinbjorg, near Bifrost. He is the ward of the gods, and sits at the end of heaven, guarding the bridge against the mountain giants. He needs less sleep than a bird, sees a hundred miles around him, and as well by night as by day. He hears the grass grow and the wool on the backs of the sheep, and of course all things that sound louder than these. He has a trumpet called Gjallarhorn, and when he blows it, it can be heard in all the worlds.”

When cast, Hiemdallr: The Watchman of Asgard reveals all enemies in a nearby area and keeps their locations known to you until the enemies die or an hour passes.

Quest Complete!
Nordic Runes III
Find Nordic Runes (10/10)

Rewards:
Nordic Effectiveness I
Quest Unlocked: Nordic Runes IV

Nordic Effectiveness I
Increases the duration of runes and effects brought on by runes by 10%

John gave out a surprised laugh as he read over the spell’s effect and mana cost. Not only was it useful, reminding him of marking opponents in many shooter games or possibly the Predator vision in the Batman: Arkham games, but it was usable! A godly rune that was usable! He couldn’t hold back, quickly drawing upon its power from within himself and drawing it before him. The name appeared before him glowing more brightly than his other runes before it burst, the magical essence flying towards his face and flying into his eyes. It didn’t hurt, but he could feel the godly power of Hiemdallr passing through him.

Then, after a moment or two, it stopped. He slowly blinked, as he could still feel it coiled inside of him like a wound up spring, but the flow ceased. He slowly lowered his head, as it had been pushed back when the essence was flowing into him, and looked around. He could see Beowulf, Mavis, and Talia still laughing and joking, no different than before. However, when he turned his head and looked to the way they came, he was surprised to see a dozen or so red outlined bodies of skaven warriors, all of them seeming to gather a ways away from the door.

‘Right. We are on a time crunch,' he thought to himself, pushing himself off the ground. ‘Let’s take one last look to ensure we didn’t miss any.’

John power walked his way around the room again, looking over each and every runic paragraph he saw in desperation for another rune, hopefully one that came from Odin. While the Hiemdallr rune was probably the most useful godly rune he had right now, it was not the main objective of his quest. Sure, it helped the bonus objective, but the bonus objective would mean nothing if he couldn’t complete the main one.

‘Plus, if I don’t get the blessing of the literal god of runes, what kind of a runic mage can I really call myself?’ he thought, his eyes scanning over a short passage about how Odin hung himself from Yggdrasil to learn the runes. He shook his head, quickly hopping over to one about Fenrir and Odin, and was disappointed to see no runes of power there either. However, after a moment or two, his eyes were caught by the glimmer of a rune. It was in the second paragraph about Fenrir, specifically about his ****. He wasted no time, casting a Runic Observe on it as quickly as he could.

Vidar: God of Vengeance
100 MP to cast
“The wolf swallows Odin, but Vidar, the Silent, sets his foot upon the monster’s lower jaw, he seizes the other with his hand, and thus rends him till he dies.”

After casting, any damage you take will grant bonus damage to your next damaging rune. Each lost hitpoint will add +0.5 damage to your next magical attack.

'Well… I guess I have the bonus objective complete…’ John sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. Not only was this one another rune he couldn’t use, at least not without gambling a lot of hit points on it, but this was the last mural that John had not checked in the room. Next to him was the Loki mural, which had been one of the first he checked. He shook his head and ran one of his hands through his hair. ‘What am I going to do? Lifthrasir told me I needed a rune of Odin to prove myself to the council. Now what?’

Just as he thought this, a loud pounding could be heard on the door, as if the skaven had gotten tired of waiting for them to get out and decided to cure their impatience with a battering ram. Beowulf bolted out of his seat, summoning into his hand a sword and his shield. “Hurry, leave. There is a passage out of here behind my throne, in a small hidden trapdoor. It will lead you into Freya’s room. Hurry!”

Talia moved quickly, hopping off the arm rest and running to the back of the throne, feeling around for the opening of the trapdoor. Mavis kept her gaze on Beowulf, and John swore he saw a tear roll down her cheek before she hopped back to help out Talia. John stood up and dashed over to help the girls, but before he could reach them, Beowulf blocked his way with his shield.

John looked up at the king, who was staring back at John with a curious look. They both stayed silent for a moment, before Beowuld said softly, “You are not what I expected for Mavis, but perhaps that is best. What I expected has always ended up dying too early. Perhaps you are smart and clever enough to avoid the same fate.” He moved his shield and walked forward. “Now go. Become the runic mage that they deserve. Maybe I’ll see you someday in Vahalla.”

“We found it!” Talia exclaimed as she and Mavis wrenched open the trap door. “John! Hurry up!”

“Go,” Beowulf said, breaking John out of his stupor. John nodded in response, running over to Talia and Mavis. Talia did not hesitate, quickly leaping into the trap door despite it seeming to be an infinite black pit.

“You, uh, sure this is safe, Mavis?” John said looking down.

“Nope,” Mavis said with a grin before shoving John in.