Preview: The Path of the Bear

The fourth story in Tales from Stolki’s Hall comes from Sarah L. Miles. Sarah is a newcomer to publishing but a competitive strongwoman who can lift some seriously impressive weight. Her tale takes inspiration from one of the barbarian subclasses in the Thrones & Bones: Norrøngard campaign setting book, the “path of the bear.” The old Norse word “berserkr” literally meant “bearskin.” In Norrøngard, there are three barbarian paths, dedicated respectively to the wolf, boar, and bear. Sarah gives us an origin story of sorts for one young strongwoman finding her own path in this world.

The mist settled back on the grass, the merest ripple indicating that it had been disturbed. Urszula let her shoulders drop with it and slowed her breath. She could see the deer several feet ahead of her, its head raised as it watched for danger, ears twitching. Barely perceptible under the mist, Urszula raised her left arm, hefting her spear. It was hand whittled and amateurishly made, shorter than average, but the point was sharp and her aim true. The whistle of the spear caused the doe to raise her head, seconds too late to successfully bolt. She moved enough for Urszula to curse under her breath, springing up from her hiding place and throwing herself in the direction of the fleeing deer, pulling her knife from her belt as she did. The doe dropped with the spear protruding from one flank as Urszula hit it in the side and swiftly slit its throat, ending the deer’s life and bringing a smile to Urszula’s face.

* * *

The family gathered around the firepit, the remains of the deer roasting on a spit. The skin was hanging from a beam to one side of the longhouse, scraped clean, and Urszula’s mother Perla was washing the innards in water brought from the stream by one of her many younger siblings. A feeling of satisfaction washed over Urszula as she had provided enough food to last the next few days. Her father clearly disagreed though, seated on a bench, his back against the wall, scowling. His ruined arm was held in a sling, fashioned by Perla to try to ease the burden on him. His injury had affected his mind as well as his body, not being able to provide for his family had taken a toll and he had retreated from village life more and more.

Urszula picked up the slack where she could, trying to set an example for the younger children, while ensuring her mother was taken care of as best she could. The villagers could talk all they wanted, but as the oldest her priority was to the family that raised her, not the expectations of others. Einar would simply have to weather the perceived embarrassment of going from the head of the village’s hunting party, to an injured veteran who could no longer fight. Both Perla and Urszula knew that he was sinking into a deep depression, his extended family–gathered from waifs and strays on his adventures to make up for his own childlessness–now a burden that he could not countenance to let down. Urszula was well known for her cheery outlook and positive nature, always having a kind word when meeting others from the village, despite how she was often treated by them in return, and she now made a stark contrast to her father.

All of the children were well known in Smárvik. Their father was a veritable hero and no one would treat them as anything less than he deserved, even if they came from all over Norrøngard and Araland, or even in Urszula’s case from deep within the Dvergian Mountains. The villagers were a tight knit group, their distance from the nearest town making neighborly behavior a necessity. Einar’s drop in stature had not reduced him in the eyes of anyone but himself, the villagers seeing his injury as proof of his bravery and the reason for a well-deserved early retirement. With a loving wife and a whole household of adopted children, outwardly there was no reason for him to be bitter. But he could see no future for himself, shoulder shattered on his final trip to the northern forests and not even a carcass to show for it.

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