We begun our journey sailing southeast towards Varisia – after finding out from our druid friend that Cheliax was most likely responsible for the attack upon us. Everything was smooth sailing. It was great to smell the salty sea air, feeling the wind blow through our hair and mists of waves splashing us in the face. I have longed for this moment for many years. To finally be really doing it is to truly feel alive. About a couple of hours into our journey, we were met by some other Ulfen naysayers. They were heading right toward us, and were armed. I told the boat captain to meet them head on, so we can figure out exactly what they want.
They slowed down very close to us and tethered our ship to theirs. They placed a plank on the ledge of both of our ships and a few began to walk across. After some meaningless diplomacy from Ingrid, I decided enough was enough, and I kicked the plank off our boat, sending them crashing into the water below. One of them, of course, made it back onto their boat in the nick of time. Some began jumping onto our vessel, however, more than half of them couldn't make the leap, and fell into the water. After defeating the few that came aboard, Gunnar and I jumped into their boat, and turned the tables on them. We pushed the remaining people over the edge and our crew began roping them up as prisoners, or else they'd drown as their armor weighed them down.
While all of this was happening, that little serpent of Ingrid's was biting their leader in the balls. Brave little thing, I'll say as much. But it worked. We captured all of them, except the ones that drowned. We killed a couple of course – nobody's perfect, after all. But we are now in possession of their boat and provisions, which means we can head back to Jutland, sell our prisoners off for weregild, and return the ship that we borrowed. Life is good after all. The battle was swift and remotely painless. It felt good to really fight after all these years of training.
I only wish my father were still alive to see me do it.