The cold brisk air was alight with Sundogs, the snow a brilliant blinding white, untarnished save for the lone horse trodding through the encrusted snow. The rider was stooped over the saddle in exhaustion, wrapped tightly in his hooded cape. Behind the horse a travois was being pulled, its cargo a bundle of furs through which the sound of snoring could be heard. As the horse pulled through a frosted snow drift, the travois lurched and spilled its occupant.
"What the Tark!" he screamed as he tried getting to his feet. "Where the hell am I? And where's the barmaid! I need a drink!"
"Relax, Bryggan", the rider said, dismounting and helping the floundering Bryggan to his feet, "You've done enough drinking for awhile."
"Armagan damn you, Dirk!", Bryggan snarled, "I have just returned from Europe, and I deserve to celebrate. I destroyed the army of Hagur the Hopeless Noob, and that in itself deserves a month or two long celebration."
"You mean the army of 100 naked men that attacked you, then no one showed up to fight? Mighty victory that was."
"Damn you Dirk. A victory is a victory."
"I'm not Dirk", the figure said, removing his hood.
"Bloody hell!" Bryggan gasped, "Stormrider!"
"Yes, I came looking for you, just to find the past leader of the noble thirteen knights passed out in the filthiest tavern I have ever seen. You need to rediscover yourself, Bryggan. I am taking you to your army and we shall install the Order of the Thirteen Knights as far up North as we can go- Fisdnar."
"Fisdnar! Are you nuts. That filthy peasant Arys is there. And if we do go there, he will never, ever stop assailing us til he takes it. Have you ever fought Arys? It takes weeks to wash the smell out your armour."
"Oh right. How about New Shulus?"
"New Shulus is great," Bryggan said. "Well, you have convinced me Storm. We will rebuild the Holy order of the 13 Knights. I will apply to his majesty King James of Acre for an edict protecting our order. Then, when not fighting under his banner, we shall meditate upon our 13ness."
The two men stood in silence then, gazing across the snowy plain towards the far off mountain range to the West. Carried by the wind, they heard a faint, distant howl.
"The blessing of Fenris", whispered Bryggan.