Within a dark forest, a warm and glowing lodge. Inside, an older gentleman in gold-laced crimson robes strokes the logs of a hearth.
"Welcome stranger. Come in, come in! Just stroked the fires... Inn keep? No, 'fraid not. But you rest a spell and get warm while I be making us some tea and honey!
Me? I be a simple storyteller. Make my coin easing weary souls and young'ins with tales of old.
Here a warm mug of sweet honey tea, and just a pinch of clove if you don’t mind. Take that bitter chill of your bones.
Say now, this does remind me of a story a wanderer like yourself may fancy. A tale from the land so bitterly cold that only the fiercest warriors could live.
These were known by many as 'The Northmen.' Hailing from the lands of ice. Raiders and pillagers who took gold and slaves and beautiful women to sire them sons. A land that knows only the sword, the axe, and war. For they had not heard of the living God, who made blind men see and lame men walk. No, my friend. These men from the north served the heathen gods of old. Men, who sailed upon narrow, long boats to distance good Christian lands to raid and pillage.
But I tell you. Even they had ones among them that they feared. Men said to be born of wolf and witch. Men said to kill a bear with his own two hands and wear its skin as a prize. Men said to be so wicked they were scorned even by the heathen gods of old...
Mmm yes. I can see the glimmer in your eye. Well, let me tell you the tale of the man from such a place. a place known as 'Gotland.' Let me tell you the powerful epic of... The Goth!