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"Please," she repeated with a whimper, then spoke in a tongue the wanderer did not understand. He stared intently, not noticing the three longboats to the left and right of the Mercy now rowing closer.

"Ildmagicka," the girl said louder when he did not respond, pointing to her neck under the wood it was fixed within. Now magic, that's a word the wanderer understood. He unclasped the pillory's fastenings, bringing it up to release the girl from her bonds. She stumbled, then collapsed to her knees.

She looked up at him, pointing at her collar with a lifetime of anger in her eyes.

"Ildmagicka," she said once more. He understood. He gripped her shoulder tightly, bringing his blade's pommel to her collar as ladders were hoisted to the deck of the vessel.


Anger is a fire mage's best friend, and Hilde had enough bottled within herself to last a dozen lifetimes. She wasted no time with thanking the man who saved her. Hilde quickly rose to her feet, running towards the side of the deck to enact her revenge.

She swept a hand in front of her, incinerating a row of men crawling towards her on a ladder towards the deck of the Mercy. She raised both hands high then pushed them forward with a shout, a wave of fire descending from above to transform all before her into a cloud of steam and ash.

The man that had saved her was holding off advancing reavers from one of the ladders, as well as the reavers that were still running up from belowdecks, while Hilde focused on the two other longboats. She wanted it all to burn down around her, to see Kjartan's face when he realizes all he'd ever loved had been incinerated.

"Mercy through blood!" Hilde cried in the Isbryggan tongue. Her savior would not know what her words meant, but he certainly could understand their meaning. She pushed her palms forward, a jet of flame shooting from their grasp towards the longboat below, the ship bursting like kindling in her wrathful inferno.

The man noticed that her magic was lighting the Mercy as well in its fury. But the man didn't care, and danced through the reavers closing behind Hilde with his glowing sword. Hilde stepped to the next ladder, incinerating the armored men before her with palms outstretched.

"Mercy through blood!" Hilde roared.


Kjartan the Wanderer awoke to the smells of fire and ash on the air, to the sounds of a woman shouting and men crying. He rose from his bed in a flash, gathering his greataxe from the wall beside him. He was alone this morning, having left his wenches belowdecks for some peace and quiet. Fate, it seemed, did not want to give him either.

He kicked open the door of his cabin and was completely taken aback with what he found. His ship, his pride and joy created with magics of a distant realm, had been completely set ablaze. The fires would not be controlled at this point, he knew.

Kjartan's eyes drifted over the dozens of his reavers laying dead on the deck. His eyes slowly traveled up, spotting the fire mage with a man he didn't recognize slaying his reavers on the far side of the vessel.

"Three! You bitch!" he roared, striding towards her with greataxe aloft. The man next to her spun deftly to the shout, and for once in his life Kjartan was stunned. He knew what fear felt like as the man's eyes pierced him.

The swordsman advanced upon him with glowing blade and dreadful smirk.

And was halted by Three, who had outstreched a hand before him. The swordsman glanced towards her, then nodded unreadably. Three, instead, walked towards Kjartan with arms extended and palms raised towards the sky, wearing naught but a grin and the fire in her soul.

She stretched her hands towards him, still twenty feet away.

"My name is... HILDE!" she declared defiantly.

Kjartan only saw a flash of flame before he and all around him was rendered unto ash. Hilde had wanted him to suffer. But Hilde could not muster the willpower.


Talos stepped towards the shaking sorceress, who had just fallen to her knees and had brought her hands to her f

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