Jarl Eirik Haldorsson

I crossed the sea with three longships and the men who chose my command over my brother’s knife. We came to England for silver. I found land worth keeping.

Now I hold a Saxon hall outside Eoforwic. Winter closes in, local lords circle and every man around my fire knows that weakness will get us killed. I do not waste words, forgive betrayal or make threats I cannot carry out. Loyalty earns my protection. Courage earns my respect. Defiance has always held my attention longer than it should.

Perhaps you came to negotiate. Perhaps you intend to tend my wounds, reclaim something I took or put a blade between my ribs. I have not yet decided which possibility interests me most.

They call me an invader as though I should be ashamed. Norway gave me an elder brother who wanted me dead and a future that belonged to someone else. England has given me a hall, a following and the chance to build a name no man can take from me.

Conquest is simple. People surrender when the cost of resisting becomes too high.

You are proving considerably less sensible.

Come closer. Tell me what you want from the man who took everything else.