After the murder of his tribe at the hands of their rivals, the Aeslings, the fierce Norse Reaver Einarr, Son of Sigdan, of the Baersonlings[1b] finds himself the sole survivor. Seeking revenge for his people and respite from guilt he sets off on a perilous quest deep into the Chaos Wastes, intent on stealing the treasure of a god in hopes of a second chance for his tribe and people.[1a]
Einarr is described as an immense, bear-like man, a giant, who stands a full head above other warriors, with massive shoulders and a deep barrel chest straining against the hauberk that covers his torso. Thick ropes of muscle bulge beneath the furs wrapped about his powerful limbs, the man wielding a broad-bladed sword in paw-like hands. From his massively corded neck rises a head almost lost within shaggy pale hair, with bone charms and talismans braided into his blond mane, swaying with every motion. His face is leathery, with the grey scar of an old wound running across the broad, low brow. Pale eyes shine from the recesses of his face, colder than the frozen world he travels.[1b]
The War Leader had honed his reflexes over many years of raiding the northern coasts of the Empire,[1b] and even pillaged the domed temples and fortified palaces of Erengrad.[1c]
When he left the ruins of Vinnskor, he did so bedecked with the great breastplate of steel Tulkir had torn from the corpse of a southlander prince. Over his legs he wore the heavy fur leggings that had been the specialty of Hilga the tanner, a layer of small river-stones sewn between the layers of leather beneath the fur to thwart fang and blade. Across his back he wore the monstrous bearskin cloak Raskulf had claimed in a raid against the Vargs, its fur even paler than the snow, the horned skull of the bear covering Einarr's head like a helm. About his hands were the iron gloves of Valbrandr, upon his feet the iron-shod boots of Sorkvir. From his belt hung Rafn's axe, its haft pitted where the sizzling blood of the Aeslings' Chaos Spawn had struck it. Beside it rested the splintered length of Fangwyrm, Tulkir's renowned blade. Across his shoulder he carried the ox-hide bag with Spjall's herbs and potions. And around his neck he wore the silverband he'd given Asta, the metal stained almost black by her blood, the image of the jumble of torn meat scattered through his home burned forever into Einarr's mind.[1c]
One last thing did Einarr take with him: the crude dagger of ithilmar he had fashioned from the Seer Alfkaell's staff, having slain the Aesling during captivity in Skraevold.[1c]
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