The ship that Hildibrands has discovered meets us - our starboard sides no more than a man's length apart. The vessel is a grim sort of craft, appearing to be made more of scales than wood; I've seen nothing like it before. However, commanding the deck is a man I have seen many a time before. He has more grey in his mane than I remember, and I see for the first time the scars in his lips where the Vartari lace had once bound his mouth closed. The maimed mouth curls into a mischievous smile. He is called Loki Loftur.

His crew is made up of the most brutal crowd of etin I have ever beheld. Two of them hold a fettered Balder! Two other etin take turns swinging their swords and axes at the gentle Asa. Though Balder is invulnerable, I am disgusted at such a display. The wild sea sprays between ships, but I hear Loki's voice above it all: "Fear not, Waetling, your Asa friend cannot be harmed. I just thought I might bind him and make sport of him, as had been done to me."

Drawing my sword, Mistilteinn, I am tempted to finish Brokk's work and take the conniving rogue's head for myself! Leaping off the edge of Skidbladnir, I land upon the Ship of Nails, swinging my blade with rage. Loki falls back swiftly and raises his hand, unleashing a flash of blinding light. My sight is gone! Charging toward the sound of Loki's voice, I thrust the Mistilteinn forward and run him through.

Hildibrands's voice behind me cries out in horror, and I think back to the day that Loki had deceived me into firing an arrow at my uncle Weyland. I fear I am deceived once again...