Halvard watched his men drill on the beach, his face drawn. The northern warriors twirled blunted weapons and beat them against the metal rims of their shields as they clashed and danced apart. Further down the stretch of sand, Torvald barked orders for the men to form a shield wall and just as quickly break apart. The jarl sketched plans for the assault on Yeavenguut in the sand with a narrow branch but wiped them away just as quickly. He grunted a curse, hurled the stick into the water of the fjord, and drew his sword.

Wulfric finished drilling with Aesgir and found Halvard angrily hacking a training dummy to pieces. "I thought we were supposed to be using practice weapons today," Wulfric remarked as he took a swig from a waterskin. Halvard just grunted again before lopping off the wooden simulacrum's head in a casual, backhanded blow. "It's the chain between the towers, isn't it?" Wulfric continued. "It's got me puzzled too. I've never heard of anything like it in Kalos. I'll give Donatus Builder the credit he's due, it's an ingenious feat of engineering." Wulfric had to revert to Kalosian to say it, as he did not quite have the right words in the language of the northerners to get the phrasing right, and by now Halvard had learned enough Kalosian to catch his meaning.

"A curse on the family of Donatus Builder," Halvard growled, driving his blade through the chest piece of the decapitated mannequin. "May they suffer for ten generations."

Wulfric said nothing. He had an acute sympathy for King Ingmar's captive southerner, who in truth had only done what Wulfric had, just for a different master. Still, his chain presented a thorny problem. "Truly, I don't think getting past the chain in the first place will be the most pressing of our problems," Wulfric said. "If Ingmar is wise, and I fear that he is, he won't raise the chain when he hears of our approach. He and his warriors are behind their walls and have little enough to fear from what we can bring to bear. No, it's far more sensible for him to wait until we've committed ourselves to the attack and raise the chain behind us. He and his men could pick us off in the harbor and on the shore at their leisure."

Halvard finally sheathed his sword and nodded. "I've had the same thought. However, I have not told you everything. If you're to help me, it's time you know everything I do." He signaled to Torvald down the beach, and the jarl's brother adjourned his training session to join Halvard. When he had gotten close enough to speak to in confidence, Halvard said quietly, "It's time that Wulfric saw the tunnel."

The three of them made their way out past the Rovngalad pastures and into the forest beyond. The sun was low in the sky when they finally reached the foothills of the mountains, and yet Halvard and Torvald continued onward. Finally, after making their way down a concealed trail, Halvard pointed to a deep cave carved in the mountain's base. "What is this?" Wulfric asked.

"Our back door to Yeavenguut," Torvald said.

"Surely you're joking!"

"Not a bit," Halvard replied. "Rovngalad's two greatest assets are Uthald and Jarn. Ingmar is rightfully afraid of what Uthald, but he also knows that there's no way we can load Jarn onto a longship. To him, Jarn is a protector, and no threat to Ingmar provided he stays behind his walls."

"Which means," Torvald chuckled, "that he likely has no plan for when Jarn suddenly shows up at his gates." He sat down on a nearby boulder with a groan. "Halvard and I have always known that we didn't stand a chance against the Usurper without both of our companions. Jarn and I have been digging this tunnel for years, and earlier this year we broke through to Yeavenguut. We concealed the passage again, so it's nearly impossible for Ingmar to know what we've done."

"Who knows about this?"

"Aside from the three of us? Ragnhildr, obviously. And I had to bring Ulfi in to construct some supports for the tunnel. Ivarr and a few of the other men helped a little here and there." Torvald shrugged. "But we've kept this secret close. Only the people Halvard and I trust implicitly are brought here. We have no idea who could be an agent of Ingmar's, and if he were to find out…"

"So when you took those trips up into the mountains, you were digging this?"

"Usually. Other times I just left to train. I needed a believable cover, and if it was known that I went off on my own to strengthen myself, and was seen to be doing so, I was more likely to be believed."

Wulfric was dumbfounded. "But a tunnel from here to Yeavenguut, right through the hearts of the mountains… that must have taken…"

"Most of a decade," Torvald said. "Yes."

Halvard folded his arms and stared into the darkness of the tunnel. "When we attack, Torvald will lead a band through the tunnel and attack Ingmar from the rear. We'll use Jarn to breach the walls of Yeavenguut, and hopefully that's enough for us to land our warriors."

"So you're hoping that if we manage to breach the city, we would be able to take it over, and then the chain wouldn't be a concern."

"That's only if the chain is lowered so that we can get into the fjord in the first place," Halvard said. "We can't be sure that's the case. And even then, that's assuming that Ingmar hasn't lain a trap for us in the city itself. His raid here was a deliberate provocation. He wants us to come to him, so I have to think he's plotting something."

Torvald stood and put a hand on Halvard's shoulder. "You're overthinking this, brother. Ingmar doesn't understand what it means to bring down the fury of Rovngalad." He smiled that predatory northern grin Wulfric had seen so many times and began to walk back up the trail. Halvard watched him go and shook his head.

"You don't think it will be so simple," Wulfric said. It was not a question.

"Of course not. Ingmar has some sort of plan to catch us unawares. The tunnel is one thing, and maybe it will be enough to turn the tide in our favor, but I can't lead my people to their deaths if I'm not sure. We need more power."

"Well, short of divine intervention, I'm not entirely sure what would be more powerful than a Gyarados and an Aggron."

"Divine intervention…" Halvard kicked a branch into the cave before sitting down on a nearby boulder. "Tell me Wulfric, what do you think of our gods, now that you've seen them for yourself?"

"Well, I still don't think they're gods, for one thing." When Halvard rolled his eyes, Wulfric continued. "But their power is undeniable. They may not be gods, but they are certainly forces of nature."

Halvard nodded. "And what of your god? Is He not also a powerful force of nature?"

"With Arceus, it's different." Wulfric tried to distill centuries of theological philosophy into language Halvard could comprehend. "Arceus doesn't just exert tremendous power over the world, He is the world. He shaped it, crafted it and exists as an intimate part of it."

"Says who?"

"What?"

"I mean, who told you this? And who told them? And so on and so forth, back to the beginning of the whole thing. Obviously no one was around to watch Arceus make the world, so how do they know it's real?"

"Faith, Halvard. It's a matter of faith."

"If you say so. But doesn't Skaldi also have faith in his gods? What makes you any more right?"

"Arceus is a universal force! I'll grant that Skaldi's idols are tremendously powerful pokemon we can't begin to understand, but that doesn't make them gods."

"Easy, Wulfric. I don't mean to upset you." Halvard held up a finger. "But humor me for a moment more. You just said that the gods of the north are merely powerful pokemon. Does it not stand to reason that they could be tamed the way any pokemon could?"

"I'm not sure I like where this theological argument is going." Wulfric pursed his lips. "And while I suppose what you say is true, it would be nearly impossible!"

Halvard shrugged. "That's what everyone said about taming a Gyarados, until I came along. They just weren't looking at it the right way." He waved his hand. "You can go back to the village if you like. I'm going to stay here a while. The change of scenery will do me some good."

Several days later, while Wulfric was saying his evening prayers by the water, he heard someone approach behind him. Wulfric turned slowly, one hand going unconsciously to the dagger Torvald insisted he wear on his belt. Ulfi raised one hand in a sheepish wave and came to sit next to the monk. "I'm sorry," the boat builder said after a moment. "I didn't mean to disturb you. But I've watched you say those prayers of yours for a while now, but I've never been close enough to listen to what you're saying. I suppose I just wanted to know."

"You did?"

Ulfi nodded. "When you're praying, your face changes. You look so calm, so peaceful. It's not like when Skaldi does it. His prayers are… feverish. He gets that look in his eyes, you know the one I mean."

Wulfric nodded. "I think I've rather had my fill of Skaldi's prayers."

"I see the peace your prayers bring you… and I want to learn to have that for myself." Ulfi hung his head. "My wife and my son are gone. I have faith in Jarl Halvard, and I'll fight for him until my dying breath. I have my work, my boats, and that's all well and good. But I don't have peace, not like you do. Could you show me?"

Wulfric blinked. "I… I suppose I could teach you the prayers." He clicked his tongue at Dismas, and the Chatot flapped off his shoulder to stand on the sand before the two men. "Just try to repeat what Dismas says. He knows the responses to the prayers, but we pray in Kalosian. Once I've finished, I'll try and translate the prayers into your language so you know what we're saying."

Ulfi nodded, and when Chatot said the responsorial to Wulfric's prayers, the boat builder gave his best attempts to speak the strange foreign words. His brow furrowed in concentration as he tried to replicate the sounds, but they were clumsy on his tongue. When Wulfric had worked through his litany of prayers, he sat in the sand with Ulfi for another hour until the sun finally set behind the hills to the west, coaching the man on the proper responses to the translated prayers.

Wulfric had only prayed in Kalosian, even after his language lessons with Halvard had concluded. The only interest the jarl had shown had been purely academic and theoretical, and a man who had no faith in the gods of his homeland was unlikely to convert to a foreign one. The Kalosian prayers had been Wulfric's connection back to his homeland, but now that he had a willing acolyte, it was time to bring them to the northmen.

After the first evening, Wulfric settled into a routine. He and Dismas would rise early and say their prayers in Kalosian, and then join the rest of the northmen for training and working in the fields. Then, when evening set in, he and Ulfi would meet at the boat builder's workshop for another round of prayers, this time in the language of the northmen. Ulfi, who had some skill in writing, also began to transcribe the prayers in the northerner's runic script on bark that was stripped from the timbers used to make and repair the longships. Wulfric had not even thought of this, but when Ulfi had proudly presented him with the northern translation of the Lord's Prayer, Wulfric felt his heart swell and knew that this would make spreading the Word of Arceus to the north easier by an order of magnitude.

Ulfi took to the teachings of Arceus with the zeal only a convert could have, and he was an able pupil. He listened attentively to the stories Wulfric told him of the saints and Shepherds of the past, and took interest especially in the accounts of the early Arcean converts in Tojoh and Kalos when the Arcean Shepherds began to spread out of Sinnoh. It was one night several weeks after beginning their evening prayers that Ulfi turned to Wulfric. "You have spoken of a ritual that converts to your faith must undergo to dedicate themselves to your god."

"Baptism, yes."

"I would like to be baptized."

"Are you sure?" Wulfric pressed. "Ulfi, once you do this, there is no going back. If you are baptized, you give your soul to Arceus."

"I would like to be baptized," Ulfi said again. "I have found something in Arceus that I never had in the gods of my ancestors. When I leave this world, I want to go to Arceus's embrace, not the Cold Halls. If what you tell me is true, that there are no Cold Halls and the Bringer of Death has no kingdom, that we all go to Him when we die, then I have nothing holding me to my old faith."

The boat builder stared out at the lapping waves of the fjord. "You say that only the baptized can go into Arceus's hall and that all the pagans must wait outside the gates. My wife and son are out there, but they never knew they had to be baptized. Could I intercede with Arceus on their behalf?"

"I… I don't know, Ulfi. No one does."

"Well, all the same, I have to try. I can hold the gate for my family in the next life the way I hold the gate for my brothers in arms in this one. Wulfric, I have made my choice in this. I would like for you to baptize me."

And so the next night, they proceeded again to the shore. Ulfi stood in his nicest tunic at the water's edge, and followed wordlessly as Wulfric led him into the sea. Uthald drifted lazily some ways off and rose out of the water a fraction to see what the two humans were up to. They waded until they were waist deep before Wulfric turned to face Ulfi. "Do you, Ulfi Angradsson, renounce the false pagan gods of the north and dedicate your body and soul to Arceus, Lord of Light, King of the Most High?"

"I do."

"Do you pledge to serve Him, to carry His word in your heart, and to bring light to the world and banish the shadow?"

"I do."

"Lord Arceus, Your humble servant comes before you to be filled with Your light. May You work through him and make him an instrument of Your glory!" Wulfric dipped his hand into the sea, reached up, and placed his thumb on Ulfi's forehead. He drew the four-pronged ring of Arceus on the boat builder's brow and rested his hand on Ulfi's shoulder. The northman nodded gravely and lowered himself into the cold water. Wulfric watched as his pale face disappeared beneath the waves and remained there for several heartbeats. Then, Wulfric jerked Ulfi's shoulder up, and the northman burst from the sea with a triumphant roar. The water dripped from his hair and beard, but he seemed impervious to the cold.

Wulfric couldn't help but smile. "In Your name we pray."

"Hail to You, Lord of Light!" Ulfi said, completing the rite. Then, his face split into a wide grin, and he pulled Wulfric into a brief but tight embrace. "Thank you, my friend." They went back to shore, and Ulfi poured them both a generous helping of mead. They toasted Ulfi's conversion and drank deeply.

As they sat on the sand waiting for their clothes to dry, Wulfric saw something move in the shadows near the village. He peered into the darkness and saw Skaldi crouching there, his brow furrowed. After their shared encounter on the cliffs where Wulfric had stood in defiance of the northern gods, the northern priest's attitude towards him had changed. It was no less terse, and certainly Skaldi's faith in his gods would not be swayed, but when he looked at Wulfric now, the monk saw something verging on respect in his eyes. Where Skaldi had prostrated himself, Wulfric had stood unwavering. And although he had stood in defiance of the northern gods, the only thing Skaldi held in higher esteem than his gods was an unyielding and defiant will.

At the very least, he had not tried to interfere with the ceremony, though Wulfric was sure that had he wished to, he could have stopped the whole thing. As far as positive signs go, it wasn't much, but it was enough.

Finally, the day to launch the invasion came.

The sea was calm, and a favorable wind blew from the south. Wulfric stood on the docks with Halvard and his siblings, watching the gray morning mist clear. Finally Ragnhildr broke the silence. "This may be the last time we all stand here together."

Torvald nodded grimly. "Could be. But there are worse ways to die."

"It's not enough," Halvard said. "All this, all of our warriors, it's not enough. We'll all fight to our last breath, but the Usurper will wipe us out."

"Don't talk like that!" Torvald snapped. "We have to strike now! It's only a matter of time before Ingmar finds the tunnel or comes for Rovngalad again. Ingmar can build a hundred fortresses, forge a thousand chains. I'll break them until he breaks me!" Torvald shoved Halvard. "What is wrong with you Halvard? Why do you have so little faith in the strength of Rovngalad?"

Halvard stared into his brother's eyes. "You didn't see our father die. Neither of you. I did. He was like you, Torvald. He fought and he fought, breaking everything Ingmar could put against him. But in the end, he broke too. Our father, our uncle, their allies, they were shattered and thrown to feed Ingmar's pokemon. He left us with Rovngalad because he knew he could crush at any time. And he still can. We need more power."

"We can't get any more power," Torvald hissed.

"We can," Halvard replied. "I can. You two launch the invasion. Fight until Ingmar breaks you, if that's what you wish. But Ingmar will not fall until I can bring the power of the Storm Bringer to bear on him."

Torvald and Ragnhildr were shocked into silence for a moment as what Halvard said sunk in. "You can't be serious," Ragnhildr said. "You can't tame a god!"

"Of course I can," Halvard replied. His voice was even, devoid of any bluster or bravado, just a simple statement of fact. "I am the Fool of Rovngalad. I am the jarl, the son of Sigurd, and the rightful heir to the throne of the north. Taming a god is the least of what I can do."

"I'm coming with you," Wulfric said, surprising even himself.

Halvard smiled his signature half smile and placed a hand on Wulfric's shoulder. "Not this time. It's just going to be me and Uthald. I can't even bring Steinarr."

"Take Dismas," Wulfric said. "I may not be able to go and protect you, but Dismas can." The Chatot hopped from Wulfric's shoulder to Halvard's. The jarl shook his head. "I can't talk you out of this, can I?"

"No."

Halvard ran a hand through Steinarr's leafy mane. "So be it. Steinarr will have to look after you until I get back." The Gogoat rested his heat against Halvard's side and closed his eyes.

"You're really going to do this." Ragnhildr shook her head. "You're a damned fool, Halvard." She turned to Torvald. "Assemble the warriors. We'll sail on the tide, and you should be leaving." The two of them strode off the dock, leaving Halvard and Wulfric alone with their pokemon. Steinarr trotted over to Wulfric and regarded him silently. Wulfric placed a hand on the grass aligned's brow and tried to manage a smile.

"Halvard, are you sure about this?"

"I am."

"Aren't you afraid to die?"

The jarl smiled again. "Die? Who the hell do you think I am?" He took Wulfric's hand in his. "I'm coming back, and I'm going to bring down the wrath of the gods on everything Ingmar has built. Once I'm king, we'll start building the world we've dreamed of. I swear it, Wulfric." He whistled, and Uthald surged through the water to meet him. Halvard jumped from the docks and grabbed onto the Gyarados's crowned head as it swam by. "I'll see you in Yeavenguut!" he roared as they whirled around and out of the fjord.

"Wrath of the gods!" Dismas crowed from Halvard's shoulder.

Wulfric raised his hand to wave goodbye, but Halvard was already looking west. The monk trudged off the docks and passed Torvald making the final preparations for his subterranean assault. "That bastard is dead already," Torvald growled. "He's just too stupid to realize it."