His cold eyes look out across the landscape taking everything in. He wears a large fur even though the weather is warm and sticky. His hair and beard glisten with sweat beading on his brow. He takes in a deep breath believing, truly believing, he is King of all he sees.

"Hey, pal where do you wanna go?? If you don't get in I got places to go." the gruff cabbie motions for the large man and the Weasley looking fellow next to him.

The huge fur-wearing man looks down on him with disdain, a huge frown on his bearded face. The man looks to the little man beside him who nods his head furiously.

"His Lordship, Njal, requests you take us to Garrett Coliseum in your fair city of Montgomery" The little man, known as Frode in his home country, giggles uncontrollably at some only he finds humorous. He makes way for the giant, now know to us dear reader as Njal, to slide into the cab and he then bounces in himself almost having to squeeze in beside the large man.

"Y'all going to the big wrasslin thing down there?"

The little man giggles again, "If you mean the XWF spectacle, then yes we are not only going there, but his Lordship is in a battle for the very first time against another man in that very arena." Frode bounces a little in the seat.

"Battle?" the cabbie looks in the rearview at his strange passengers," Oh you mean he's a new guy in the company, I got you."

"Yes, a new...guy. From henceforth you will refer to Njal as Your Lordship, not a guy!" He raises his finger in indignation, huffing at the perceived slight against the big man.

"Ok ok... His Lordship it is... " he shakes his head muttering to himself....."We are here, it's 24.75 man."

Frode throws some crumpled up foreign currency into the front seat as he and Njal slide out of the grimy vehicle. Frode takes Njal's bag as Njal follows him with a regal yet huge stride. They sweep into the arena and the staff jumps and hurries to get out of the pair's way. Various folks try to stop them asking for papers and passes. Frode produces the papers and they are ushered to Njal's dressing room and quarters for the upcoming show.

"If you need anything, Mr. Njal is it, just let one of the staff know ok?? the concierge steps back as Njal looks down on him.

Frode responds by ushering the man to the door and closing it behind him. He takes a seat after setting a spot for his charge. Njal and Frode discuss the upcoming affairs of their new venture in some unknown dialect of old Swedish that unfortunately, this particular narrator is unfamiliar with so we move on.

Frode checks on Njal one more time and excuses himself to take care of business matters for the big guy. He stops one of the promotional team in the hallway asking him some questions about the normal go of things and who the upcoming first match was against. Having found the information out, he makes his way to find a cameraman and introduce his charge to the world.

XWF, my name is Frode a humble bard and liveryman to one of the newest members of your clan, his Lordship, Njal. I cannot as you citizens term it, trash talk, yet because Njal and I are still feeling out this clan before we claim our rule. I will use this time instead to introduce My Lord. Njal and I, Frode, come from a distant land called Scandinavia. There are certain circles Njal is a warrior king, and here he shall be respected as such and addressed properly. In time you will understand that we are here to rule this land as well. We will do so by laying waste to this particular group of sniveling bottom feeders first and then move on to the rest of these bootlickers. I nwill keep this short but rest assured we are men of action not babble.