When Darrof woke up, he was laying in a small cot fashioned out of some kind of fur. He sat up and looked around. He was inside a lodge built from strong wood and stone.

The sound of a fireplace crackled across the room, and wafting from it was the smell of… groan, Meaty Medley Soup. Darrof recoiled on instinct, but relaxed when he realized what it meant: he was safe.

Darrof stretched his arms and yawned, which got the attention of the norn crouched in front of the soup pot. Rolf turned around to see Darrof wandering groggily toward him.

"You're finally awake!" Rolf said with glee, "I knew the smell of food would do it. Want some?"

Rolf excitedly handed a bowl to the asura, the soup sloshing around from the motion. Too tired to refuse, Darrof reluctantly accepted the bowl and took a sip.

That was strange; the taste was the same as it had been before, but Darrof found he didn't mind it as much. And the smell seemed much more tolerable once he'd actually eaten some. Before he knew it, he had finished the entire bowl.

Darrof sat down next to Rolf, who was still finishing his own soup.

"Thanks." he said, "For everything."

"Don't mention it." Rolf replied, "I'm just glad I got there in time. I'm sorry I left you there."

"It's fine. I told you to do it, after all. But how did you know to come back?"

Rolf chuckled, "Well, I figured you could handle it from there, but just in case, I went back a few times to check on you. Mostly to keep the beacon lit."

"Really? In the middle of that blizzard?"

"Yeah." Rolf shrugged, "It was a bad one too. Lasted almost 24 hours."

"24 hours!?" Darrof said in shock, "Is that how long I was out there?"

"Give or take." Rolf said, "You did come dangerously close to frostbite though. I thought I told you to stay in the tent."

"Well, if my parents were out there, what else could I have done?"

"...You're right. I'm sorry. I understand why you did it. I just wish it hadn't turned out the way it did."

Rolf's expression turned to worry as he looked at Darrof's ear, "Speaking of which, you're hurt! Spirits, how did I not notice that?"

Darrof reached up and felt the nick in his ear. He winced in pain as his finger ran over it, and his mind flashed back to the flying hatchet that nearly ended his life.

Rolf inspected the wound. "I'm afraid it won't heal, but it looks like it didn't do any serious damage." He reassured Darrof, "You were lucky."

"I don't feel lucky."

"I know."

Rolf picked up Darrof and gave him a big hug. Where once Darrof struggled, now he felt safe and secure in those giant arms. He held onto Rolf's arms as tight as he could.

"There there." Rolf spoke softly, "It's going to be okay. Those grawl must have been pretty scary, huh?"

"You were scary too." Darrof recalled the image of the snarling wolf-man that was the last thing he saw before he passed out. "But… not in a bad way."

"I had something to protect."

"Someday I want to be big and strong like you." Darrof murmured. Then he did a double take as he realized what he said. "Ah, glitch." he said, "I'm starting to think like a norn, aren't I?"

Rolf lauged heartily. Darrof realized it had been a while since he'd heard Rolf laugh like that.

"Afraid so, Gron-" Rolf stopped himself as the asura glared at him, "...I mean Darrof."

"You know my name," the asura said, "so why do you keep calling me Gronda?"

Rolf thought about that for a minute, "Well I guess I might as well explain it." He said, "It's a bit of a long story though."

"I have time." Darrof said simply.

"I suppose you're right." Rolf said, "Alright then. Well you see, in my younger years, I was a bit of an adventurer. I traveled all over Tyria and even got to meet a dwarf one time."

"But I thought the dwarfs were all dead." Darrof said.

"Not this one." Rolf grinned, "His name was Ogden, and he was on an expedition with some other scholars to investigate some ruins or something. Anyway, I traveled with them for a while, and helped protect them from grawl that kept trying to steal the artifacts they collected.

I got so good at it, that Ogden started calling me Gronda. I corrected him a few times, until finally he explained that it was an old dwarven word.

It roughly meant 'soldier', but it was really a term of respect given to someone who had courage like unbreakable stone. Someone who would willingly endure any hardship to protect something, or someone.

That's why I call you Gronda, because in all my years since, I've never met anyone else more deserving of that title."

"I see." was all Darrof could say at the end of the norn's story. "Is that really true?"

Rolf nodded.

Darrof thought for a while, and then said, "I guess you can call me that if you want."

Rolf smiled, "Thanks Gronda. I've got tons of stories if you want to hear them."

"I'd like that." Darrof said. "But first, can I have some more soup?"