Niflheim

It was nearing evening while Ragnar walked down the slope with Eve attached to his arm as they eventually caught up to Thorkell. The man had been waiting for them with an annoyed expression on his face.

"Let's go, Thorkell. Apologies for keeping you waiting." Ragnar signaled in the direction of their journey.

The story of Le Havre was one of a major port town for the Norman Duke. Part of Northern France's Normandy Region, where the Seine river meets the English channel. Consisting of a tavern, multiple shops, a blacksmith, a decent-sized port and a population of around 2500.

Due to it being on the eastern edge of the Duke's territory, it suffered from constant Viking raids. Under the persistent threat of war, the Barony was well equipped with a full-time force of around 1000 men, including ten knights who were off-shoot minor nobles or esteemed warriors.

Their own Sigvald family was a minor off-shoot of unknown origin. But it was noble nonetheless. Allowing Ragnar's father to attain such a position as Marshal of the Barony.

As Marshal, Ragnar's father, Harald was in charge of the army of the Barony. And in times of war, would assist the Duke with the protection of the territory. As a key point for the Dukedom, Harald's position was highly prestigious and regarded with favor among the nobility.

All the new information flooded Ragnar's head as he approached the town. It was bustling with vigor as the day was coming to a close, and all the working men started heading to the tavern to drink up and enjoy the night.

As they were pushing through the crowd to head towards the blacksmith, Ragnar noticed an overly drunk man staggering around and slowly making his way towards them.

Two thoughts occurred in his mind simultaneously: 1. Was that it was too early for the thick blooded Norman men to have already gotten drunk. 2. This was very likely a set-up that would lead to a robbery.

He quickly scanned the surroundings and noticed four men waiting further behind the scenes for the drunk guy to engage with the target. When Ragnar saw such a scene, he cursed himself for having no weapons. After dealing with these fools, it was the first thing he'd do. Commission a sword on his father's payroll, eventually paying him back.

"Thorkell", He called out to his brother, who was a couple of steps behind them, slowly lumbering as he sifted through the crowd.

"Hmm?" Thorkell responded lazily before looking towards the direction Ragnar indicated. After noticing the drunk man staggering towards them, a smirk broke out across his features.

There was only one thing that excited Thorkell more than women and booze. And that was a good brawl; he started grinding his fist into his palm in anticipation for the show that was about to begin.

"Eve, get behind me. Make sure no one sneaks up on you either. Can't remember how many stupid ass stories I've read where the chic gets caught unawares."

Eve looked up at Ragnar, confused, but understood the message all the same. His sudden quirkiness amused Eve to no extent.

As she got out of the way, Ragnar braced for the fool about to engage with two of the biggest lads in town.

"Hey, you must be new in town? Hadn't seen you here before" Ragnar raised his arms in greeting.

"This is my brother Thorkell, and I'm Ragnar, sons of Marshal Harald." Ragnar attempted to introduce medieval clout to defuse the situation before the fight started.

Undeterred, the drunk man pushed on, approaching the two men. People noticed the weird situation going on and stepped aside to get out of the way of the ensuing brawl. No one seemed too unfazed about what was going to happen. Seemed like a regular day in the life of a Norman.

When the drunk guy got about 5 meters away, he lifted his shirt to reveal a knife before sobering up and looking in their direction menacingly.

"See those four men behind me? Well, there's two more in the vicinity. Six vs two boys, time to hand over whatever silver you've got on you. Along with whatever jewelry the young lass has on behind you. Seem like a group of well to do kids? Won't want to cut such a beautiful life off so quick, now would we? Come now, give us whatever you've…"

Before he could even finish his sentence, Thorkell covered the gap with one large stride and smashed his fist into the guy's face. A sickening crunch ensued, the sound of most likely a cracked skull and jaw.

The man flopped over like a corpse, and Ragnar could hear Eve giggling in the background.

"Hah! Thorkell's turn now. All of you lads come at me, bahahah." Thorkell roared in challenge.

Ragnar stepped up beside Thorkell as they both squared off against the attackers. Their large frames covering the entire width of the street.

Seeing this display, the attackers whistled out for the accomplices to join in. Four more men walked out from the side alleys.

Ragnar smiled at the deception. Looks like they'd undersold their numbers to him. It was now eight vs two.

The attackers all charged simultaneously at them. Ragnar knew he'd have to engage them first to ensure a consistent one on one. Time to figure out what his new body was capable of.

He burst off in the direction of the attackers, taking the two that came out on his side of the alley first. As he approached them, he kicked up dirt into the guy's eyes on the left, followed by a shovel punch into the gut of the other lad.

The attacker's face twisted in pain before getting hammered by a hook as he got sent into Nifelheim.

Ragnar used his explosiveness to twist into a wheel kick from his current position that connected with the jaw of the other. A loud crack resounded as the guy went down as well.

Ragnar nodded at his work before turning around to face the rest of them. About 4 seconds had passed, and Thorkell dealt with the other two alley men in his brutal fashion. Smashing their heads together and breaking bones, all the while hearing the screams of the attackers with joy.

Ragnar looked at him and wondered how his dad spawned such a sick fuck. He shook his head with a sigh and turned to face the remaining four who stood still in shock.

"Listen, you aren't going to convince us to give you shite. Turn around and scram before we send you to Nifleheim as well."

Eve watched the remaining four run men away in amazement. Never had she seen such a one-sided beat down. Even among the nobility, was there anyone as strong as these two? The only thought on her mind was figuring out how exactly she could manipulate these two men into doing her bidding. She let a quick giggle escape imagining grabbing these men by the balls to do what she commanded.

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