Marius walked out from Bartholomew's shop with Olaf. The satchel was slung across Olaf's chest containing the three scrolls he was after. People were still tidying from the night before as they passed Durie's forge, and they saw him with his head in his quenching trough. Olaf laughed, and walked over to him as Durie pulled his head out, sending water spraying in all directions. His black and grey flecked hair shone against his gold and bronze braiding.

Durie looked up, and smiled at Olaf. "All praise the saviour of Trystem? A curse you have laid upon me, old man. I will never rest now for the insistence of the mob. I have half a mind to return to Doflhiem and receive similar torment. At least that place has better hiding spots – I may join Huldain in his pit."

Olaf smiled and clapped him on the back. "You speak like a friend of ours whom I just visited." Olaf hefted the satchel of scrolls. "Bartholomew is in need of company, Durie, and as his companion, it falls to you to drink with him. Now, before you begin your next hangover, point me in the direction of a conscious stable boy so that I may purchase a pair of horses for the road ahead."

Durie released a long sigh, and went into his house. Moments later, he came out with two bottles under his arm, beckoned to Olaf and Marius to follow, and hobbled down the street, groaning to himself and massaging his temples with his free hand.

Durie led them through the streets, occasionally staggering from the intoxication he had endured the previous day. People had started to pull themselves together by now, and the streets began to bustle with the sound of production. Hammers hammered and saws sawed, and the ting and thump of different materials began to echo through the town. People started to converse loudly, excitably, and some passionately, then finally the thump of hooves and the neighing of horses could be heard over the growing ruckus of Trystem.

Durie led them into a side alley, and then into a main street. A stables sat on this intersection, and Durie turned to Olaf.

"Well, now I have taken you to your stables, I believe that this will be farewell."

Olaf nodded. The humour from before seemed to have left him for a while as he bid farewell to his friend. He bent down, and grabbed the Dwarf's wrist pulling him into an embrace. Durie repeated the exercise with Marius who was pulled, quite unexpectedly, into a rough, liquor soaked hug. After being released, and without a word, Durie left, toddling back down the alley they had come, on his way to see Bartholomew.

Olaf drew himself up and walked into the stables with a purposeful step. Inside, a farrier stood bent over an anvil, shaping a horseshoe. He had not noticed Olaf and Marius enter his shop as he worked, beating the metal with a methodical ting. He finally straightened, holding the hot metal in a pair of clamps, and as he turned he caught sight of Olaf, and yelled. The horse he was about to shoe panicked and kicked out, sending the farrier flying across the stable. The shoe he had just finished shaping landed with a clang at Marius's feet.

Olaf waited for the commotion to settle down before he approached the wheezing tradesman. "Are you alright there, lad?"

The farrier nodded, and pulled himself to his feet. The horse had kicked him right in the ribs but the young farrier seemed fine; Marius had to look hard until he saw the Dwarven made proofing which showed beneath the apron.

The farrier rolled his shoulders a few times to check for any problems, and looked up at Olaf, then across to Marius. "How can I help you today, sirs?"

Olaf looked around the stables. "I would like to buy two horses. I need a charger or a shire horse; my young companion could settle for something a little less large."

The farrier nodded. "Well, I keep a fair amount of Shires in stock. They’re a favourite horse of the herders, but they ain't real fast and they ain't real smart. Docile and dumb I call 'em. I have one charger at the moment, but I was looking to make him a gift for the new Jarl. But, seeing as you did all the hard yards, I'll sell him to you. I'll even make you a deal on the smaller horse."

Olaf smiled at the young farrier. "I would appreciate that. Take me to this charger, and Marius? Go and find a horse you'll get on with."

Marius shuffled a little before speaking, “but I don’t know how to ride,” he spoke quietly and Olaf’s features softened.

“Don’t worry, lad,” he said, “I’ll teach you on the road.”

Marius felt a little relief and left Olaf and the farrier, and went to look at the horses in their stables. Some paced impatiently, weaving their heads at the door waiting to be fed, while others stood, eating the very hay they slept and relieved themselves on. Finally, Marius found a horse that was perfect for him: it was a chestnut, lithe and healthy. It stood at its door looking at him with intelligent eyes, ears forward. Marius went up to the door, and on a chalkboard hanging on a peg next the horses head was the name – Titan. Marius immediately made his way back out into the main stable area where Olaf was putting a saddle on a giant, steel blue charger. It’s short, braided black tail whipped across its flanks with impatience, and it threw its head around in what seemed like dismissal.

Olaf stood back and looked at the horse with a look of disapproval. Suddenly, a man walked into the stables. He wore a golden band, given to him by the Jarl. He looked around, and then, spotting Olaf and Marius, he made his way over to them.

He bowed, and then in as much of a formal voice a northern accent could muster, he said, "To the saviours of Trystem, Olaf and Marius. My Jarl, Wulfred Beorson-Trystem, Lord of all Trystem, and left-tenant to the High King Balsun Stromunson, beseeches you to join him in his golden hall."

The warrior bowed once more and then left. Olaf looked at Marius, and then the farrier.

"I'm sorry, lad, but these horses must wait,” Olaf said. “Please, take this pay and take care of our steeds. Marius, give the name of your horse to this man, and then let’s go and see what Wulfred wants of us."

Olaf and Marius exited the stable, and made their way through the circular roads of Trystem until they finally entered the inner compound. The Jarl's hall sat atop the hill that Trystem was built around. Its flags fluttered in the wind, displaying the Beorson sigil of a bear holding a thistle.

The hall had curved, gilded carvings that showed the history of Trystem. Above the door, a small dragon skull, which was still big enough to dominate the wall, hung, held up by golden spears and gilded rope. The golden doors creaked open, and Marius and Olaf made their way inside. Pillars held up the vast roof, and a huge fire sat in the middle of the hall. A whole pig was speared, and rotated slowly, sending out juicy smells which tickled Marius's nose and sent his belly into grumbles. Tables were spread about behind the pillars, and on an elevated platform at the end of the hall, the Jarl's throne stood. Wulfred himself stood next to his throne, talking to the messenger that had found them in the stables.

Olaf made his way up the steps until he was directly in front of the Jarl. "Good morning, Wulfred."

The Jarl turned to Olaf and nodded. "And to you Olaf. Marius."

Marius nodded back, and waited for an explanation.

"I have asked you here for two reasons,” the Jarl continued. “The first is to reward you for what you have done for my town and kingdom."

Olaf lifted his eyebrow, but allowed the Jarl to go on.

"The second reason is that a few scouts of mine have seen a Dwarf and two men walking across the plains, one of which matches your...um..." The Jarl indicated to Olaf up and down.

"Build?" Olaf chipped in helpfully.

Wulfred seemed to sag with relief. "Yes, build. I was wondering if they were friends of yours?"

Olaf paused for a moment, staring off to a dark wall within the hall, then returned and nodded. "Yes, they are. I would appreciate it if you sent out a cart to speed them along. And as for the reward, give it to Marius. He started the ball rolling – or heads as it were."

The Jarl nodded, and clapped his hands. A chest full of gold was brought forward, and Marius looked at it in dismay.

"How am I going to carry all that around with me?" He queried.

Olaf looked down at the gold, and then to Marius. He then looked up at the Jarl and said, "Have Durie, your new smith, take it up to my castle and put it in the treasure room. No one else – only Durie can gain entrance safely."

Wulfred nodded. "It shall be done. Bainar, go and seek out Durie the smith and do as Olaf has bid."

The warrior who had sought Olaf and Marius out left to go and find Durie. With that, Olaf turned and made his way to the door. Realizing that Marius was not following, he turned.

"Are you coming, Marius? I'm going to go and wait at the gate for our friends."

Marius frowned, and wondered what friends Olaf was talking about. They made their way towards the gates of Trystem, and waited. The mid day's light beat down on the cold town, giving a little heat to the northern skin of Trystem's citizens. Marius felt time slip by, and started to worry. Anxiety gripped him as each long moment dragged by. Olaf leant against the gate's frame, humming to himself and occasionally whistling a tune. He had his eyes closed, and Marius knew it would be useless to ask questions.

Finally, after what seemed like an age, a cart could be seen trailing up the western banks of the Mother-locke River; a huge man sat in the centre. With his black hair, and, from what Marius could see, red tattoos, the man looked like a bear. Next to the giant, a red headed, beardless Dwarf sat talking to a man Marius knew. He would recognize the blond hair and button nose anywhere. Even though he had not seen him since he was a child, Marius knew the face of his own brother.

The cart rolled over the bridge with a sound like thunder, and pulled up in front of Marius and Olaf. Marius stood dumbfounded at the revelation of his brother as Olaf made his way over to the cart.

In a thick booming voice, Olaf welcomed his friends. "Huldain, Orei! It has been too long. We were actually on our way to see you and the king. How are you?"

Huldain's usual one eyed scowl split into a smile as he embraced Olaf. "I have missed your ugly face, brother."

Olaf smiled, and released Huldain, pulling Orei into an embrace. "Orei, how are you? You look well, which is surprising since you are ranging with Huldain. How is your father?"

Orei chuckled as she fell out of Olaf's embrace. "Fine, fine, I am fine, he is fine. How are you, Olaf? I meant to see you sooner but I got caught up with something."

Orei gestured to Alun who was peering past Olaf at Marius.

Olaf looked between the two and smiled. "It would appear that we have a family reunion. Marius, come over here and say hello."

Marius blinked, and looked up at Olaf. Nodding once, he strode over to his brother. Alun stood still, amazed that his brother had survived the devastation of Stonehill. Marius looked different than what he used to; he was broader, stronger, and a serious look was fixed across his face. His brother's dark hair was pulled back into a small ponytail, with stubble darkening his cheeks and he wore an overcoat over rich clothing. Slung across his back was an ornate sword, and another smaller sword hung off his hip.

In turn, Marius took in the differences of his brother. He wore a strange jacket littered with Dwarven runes and symbols. His boots had metal toe caps, and also seemed Dwarven made. A strange weapon hung from his brother's hip, which resembled a smaller version of what the Dwarf had slung across her back. An axe was strapped to Alun's pack, and Marius sensed his brother was not adept with its use. Alun was different physically too. Ever since he had left to work at the Alturine University, Marius had imagined his brother as a weak, bent old man. But, the man that stood before him was strong, long haired and bearded. He stood tall against what he had seen, and Marius assumed that he had seen a lot.

Marius stood in front his brother, took aim, and to the surprise of Olaf, Huldain, and Orei, punched him square in the jaw. Alun fell to one knee, looking up to his brother with tears in his eyes. Marius fell to his knees with tears streaming down his own face.

"You are alive!" he choked.

Alun pulled Marius into an embrace. "Yes, brother, I am, and so are you!"

Together they knelt in an embrace, mourning the loss of their family, but rejoicing for their discovery of each other.

“I never thought I’d see you again!” Marius sobbed.

Alun shook his head sadly. “I’m sorry for all these lost years. I was on my way home when all this trouble started.”

Alun felt a hitch in his throat and a tightening in his chest at the mention of home. It wasn’t home any longer.

“It doesn’t matter anymore. We are together, that is all that matters!” Marius beamed at his brother, tears streaming as he held him close.

Alun finally let himself smile. “It’s good to see you again, little brother, it really is.”

Finally, after a long embrace, the brothers stood. Marius turned to Olaf. He wiped the tears from his face, and introduced his kin. "Olaf, I would like you to meet my brother, Alun. Alun meet Olaf, my mentor and teacher."

The two shook hands, and Olaf smiled. "Pleased to meet you, Alun. If you are anything like your brother, then I am looking forward to traveling with you."

Together, the five companions made their way into Trystem in search of an inn.