Everyone notices the old man coming in decked in full armor… but the one Haalfrin has eyes for was the young chief – Grotto's own grandchild, Chief Beyyor.
Haalfrin looks all around the halls, noticing the rich furnishings and the golden candlesticks. Haalfrin's old friend Grotto, the chief after him, and the chief after that… they've all led the clan to great wealth over the years.
As Haalfrin trudges closer to one of the empty seats, Chief Beyyor yells out, "Haalfrin, old man! Have you come to tell us some more of your stories? What about that time my father was a kid and broke a hammer over your head? Didn't he piss himself afterward? You were even bigger than I was!"
Haalfrin is the only member of the clan over 80 years old, and the wealth of stories and grand exploits he has access to has given him a level of respect in the clan.
Having survived in a strict warrior society until old age, Haalfrin was certainly a powerful warrior, back in his day.
Hence, besides the chief, Haalfrin himself has the largest house in the clan. To some, he holds even more respect than the chief. This is shown when Haalfrin goes up and stands on the same level as the chief - something the others aren't allowed to do.
When Haalfrin gets in full view of the chief, the laughter is immediately gone from the chief's previously mirthful face, and it's replaced with a somber look. He sees Haalfrin decked out for battle. "What's the meaning of this?"
"I heard you're all leaving for another raid. I'm coming with you."
The chief immediately shakes his head, saying, "You can barely swing a sword anymore! You'll get yourself killed! I can't let you do this."
Haalfrin just ignores Beyyor's nagging, and he just sits down next to him. "Bah, little boy. You don't understand my pain. I have to eat all this 'healthy' food all the time. I can't even take a piss without permission anymore! Anyway, I'm sick of it, so I'm coming with you… And no, you can't refuse."
Seeing that the chief isn't going to change his mind anytime soon, Haalfrin just patted him on the back, "Who knows? Perhaps I'll have another interesting story to tell my brothers and sisters in Freyya's basement?"
"Oi!" the Chief Beyyor scolds Haalfrin. "It's terrible luck to mention the Death Reaper of the Battlefields right before a raid."
"Eh heh," Haalfrin chuckles and scratches his head. "You and me? We're strong enough to get around a little bad luck!"
The chief just looked away and waved to one of the servants, "Give him the best cut of the roast lamb. It's just about done cooking anyway."
One of the men leaned in and said, "Chief, didn't Reeda say the meat was bad for his heart?"
"Just give it to him. He's always said he likes the legs the most."
As the lamb meat is handed out to everyone in the hall, the chief just takes it silently and eats with a sullen face on. He remained silent for the rest of the meal – clearly no longer in the mood to joke and make merry anymore.
Before Haalfrin starts feasting away, the chief leans over and says to him, "I haven't seen you in years. I could've used your advice a few times."
"Bah. You don't need an old man like me anyway. Look at this place! It looks fantastic. You've been running this place great without me all this time, and you'll continue to do so after I'm dead."
The young chief has a heavy reaction to the word "dead" again, and he abruptly puts his lamb rib back on the plate with a clang. He spends the rest of the meal poking his food with a knife every now and then, and otherwise just sulking.
"Still throwing tantrums, I see?" Haalfrin thinks, "Whatever. I need to savor this moment!"
With every slow bite, Haalfrin feels the rich, savory flavor envelop his tongue, and his spirits immediately soar. He starts drinking to his heart's content for the first time in decades, and he begins roaring out old stories from his glory days.
The last story he belches out ends with, "...and so, as we were being chased by the baron's men, your grandfather grabbed me by the scruff of the neck and yeeted me over the wall like a sack of potatoes. The soldiers on the other side were so scared when they saw a bear fall from the sky that they sh*t themselves and ran away to change their pants!"
Somehow, Haalfrin somehow gets a merry atmosphere back in the hall.
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As the raiders are loading up their ships with arrows and food for the trip, Haalfrin struggles to carry his bedroll, food, and changes of clothes - all while wearing his armor.
Several of the men attempt to help him with his things, but he shoos them off. "I can do it myself! … But thank you."
After everything is loaded on the ships, Haalfrin is still struggling up the hill. The chief can't bear to watch… but he knows the petulant old man too well.
"Sir?" one of the raiders asked, "Should we send some people to help him up?"
"No. He wants to pretend like he's still young again. Let's just wait for him to make it up on his own."
In the end, the ship had to wait an extra 5 minutes, and once old Haalfrin is finally settled aboard, they set sail.
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On the voyage up to the village, Haalfrin has the idea to dress up in civilian clothing. There's plenty of spare clothing on the ships in case they don't want to draw attention anyway, so it's not hard to find something in his size.
To top it off, Haalfrin's not brown-skinned like the other clansmen, since he doesn't have Kareen blood. "I could easily blend in and perhaps open the gate or find out how many men are inside the town."
He pauses in the middle of this thought and mutters to himself, "Ah, old habits." He steels himself again and mutters, "I'm too old to think about these things. Besides, I came here to die anyway. Just dress up like a Kareen, and the enemy will shoot me down. No need for any fancy tricks."
And so, Haalfrin remains silent for most of the trip – only talking when a couple of clansmen get emotional and want to spend some quality time with him before he passes away.