{SKULD POV}
Ever since he was but a small lad, Skuld had always valued the pleasure of a good fight. His father had instilled in him the proper ways of being a viking. Sailing the seas, embodying the cold as if it was his own, the worship of Odin and His sons so that they would be blessed with a good haul, it was all deep within his veins fueling him to greater heights. The moment he was grown, he set sail on his own stolen ship, promising those that stowed away with him great riches as they reaved and plundered mainland Europe. They sailed through the rough Baltic, uncaring of the storms that threatened to capsize their vessel. It was all for the glory of Valhalla, after all, and the women and gold they conquered was more than enough of an incentive to continue.