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The man would place Brandt's weapon before him, and explain to him that he had tended yo his wounds. Brandt would could barely remember but he was pretty sure he had been pin cushioned before he passed out. However the gods had been watching over him clearly. Otherwise he would never had survived, right?

The northlander wasn't exactly sure if he trusted the man completely, but if he wanted him dead he would have killed him already. The cloaked male had introduced himself as 'The Raging Inferno', but Brandt knew that was probably a nickname.

"Thank you for saving me.. I fear I might have.. bled out otherwise."

The nord would thank the gods that not a single arrow hit any vital location. But his sense of smell punched him in his nose and his mind slipped from his injuries to his stomach. He had already been starving before. Now more so than ever.

"I do not mind. Were it not for you, those rabble would have made off with it.. I will gladly give you a share."

Brandt hadn't actually realized just how tired he actually was until Takehiro had mentioned it. Thus far the day had been grueling. The Nord had the fight of his life, even if he had only barely managed to last. On top of it he had been moving with so much weight upon his lower half that his legs were just barely shy of giving out. Of course he still did his best to stand strong.

"That might be best. I need to stick around anyways.. But I will not stay for free. If I must, I will help around the Inn.."

The last thing Brandt wanted to come off as, was a freeloader or beggar. As he saw it, he got a sword that probably would have cost a fortune otherwise. He did not have it in him to take anything else for free. Brandt had always worked for whatever he got and that wasn't about to change now.

Brandt heard the rush of fire, but at first he simply thought his hearing was distorted and it had been the fire beside him. However he would muster the energy to open his eyes, catching sight of a blur of a man dispatching his assailants with fire and fury. However he hadn't the energy to muster words, nor could he stay conscious any longer.

Unaware of how much time had passed, or exactly what had taken place, the Nord startled awake unsure of his surroundings. Wincing from the pain, the giant's memory was as fuzzy as his eye sight. However as his vision began to clear, those pale green hues would settle upon the cloaked form in front of him.

Brandt would instinctively feel around for his sword, but find nothing. He knew not whether this person was friend or foe and it made him uncomfortable to be without his blade. At first he would not speak as he regained his wits. Soon enough though, that damaged voice of his would sound out.

"Who.. Ahh-Are you..?"

"It certainly is a blade of legend. I think I may grow quite fond of it.."

The giant would lift the blade once again, however this time he felt more confident wielding it. It surely was a mighty blade and Brandt would make sure he was truly worthy of using it. Finding his center, Brandt would sway the blade slightly to the left and right as his feet settling into a wider stance.

The blade would sway left once more, before it shot back right and then up and over. The giant would aim the blade to connect with Takehiro's glaive once again. But this time as his new sword arched downward Brandt would twist the handle and let the explosive force take action.

Now that he figured out its special feature, Brandt was sure the blow would be far stronger this time

Brandt had watched carefully, listened attentively and followed suit with the rest of the men when they roared out and banged upon their chests. In a way he felt a little big of nostalgia. Almost as if he and his former Brethren were preparing to head into the raid season.

Takehiro certainly could carry his words. Not only was he good in the field, it was clear he knew how to command a force. Brandt shouldn't have been surprised though. There was a lot the man could do that made it seen as if the gods favored him well and had a special destiny in mind.

Soon enough though, Toshi would bark his instructions as Brandt began stretching in preparation. Those pale green eyes would look toward the end, his mind focusing upon his goal. Nothing would stop him this day, or any foe that matter.

Brandt would wait for the signal and begin his run. The giants agility had certainly improved as of late. There was a good chance he might even outrun some of the others. The current conditions on his first run weren't all that difficult for the nord.
His body was accustomed to crappy, cold weather. He would make it to the other side, his clothes soaked from sweat and moisture alike. Over all though, the giant would still be good to go. Turning back around, he would start the trek back to where he came from.

It was there that he began to have a much harder time. Brandt's pace dropping considerably as he pushed him way forward. A hot environment was something he wasn't so familiar with. Brandt had raided in hotter locations a few times. But nothing like this.

The viking could feel his throat drying up, the dry air running down his throat only making it harder to fight off coughing. Brandt could feel the strain of dehydration throughout his body as well. Muscle cramps and tightening were slowing the hulking mass down, but eventually he would reach start again. Wheezing for air, the giant would take a knee to catch his bearings. That certainly was a little slice of the underworld.

*Shameless Bump*

Anyone that hasn't met Brandt yet and would like to, reply!

We can work something out and I shall create the thread.

(OOC: Since Brandt is a merc, this is written as him by himself.)

Today would not be a day of rest for the northerner. Brandt had a training regiment in mind and his day was cleared of all tasks so that he could get this work out in. After all, he needed to be in the best shape possible to keep up with Takehiro.

The weather did not favor him this day, but he would not allow it to be a deterrent. The man had a goal and he wasn't going to quit this day until he had accomplished it. Shirtless, the man begun by stretching. A man him size really needed to limber up in preparation for this type of thing.

Brandt would begin this day with a run. The medium sized village he currently held up in would be a good marker for him. Pacing himself the giant would begin his trek around the village. Once, twice and so on he went around and around the village. By the time he had finished his run, the Nord's body was glistening with sweat.

Having paced himself though, he wouldn't be too tired from the run. His lungs were good and had adjusted during the run to pace he set for himself. But Brandt was far from finished. It was time to begin the core of his work out now that the cardio was finished.

Dropping down on his knees before he lowered himself down into position, Brandt would place his hands down into the muddy earth and begin his grueling physical challenge. 150 push ups was no easy feat when you were pushing up nearly 300 pounds.

However he would soldier through it, stopping every 50 to simply keep himself straight on his hands. The mud was making it difficult to prevent sliding as he neared the end, but he would manage to finish as his arms started to feel the burn.

Brandt would give himself a few moments to recover. He felt incredibly warm, even though the rain was cold. And he could feel his blood flowing within his whole body. The rest felt nice, but he knew there would be time for leisure afterwards. Rolling over, the mucky Nord would get into his next position.

200 sit-ups was the name of the game. Luckily for Brandt, he felt the sit-ups would be a little easier. The giant had a strong core, probably from all the years of walking and maneuvering with a giant sword on his back.

While it would still take time, the giant would count his reps as he stared up toward the dark clouds still letting loose their tears. With each drop of his body Brandt took a breath, and with each push up into sitting position he would let it go. A solid breathing technique was quite efficient.

Soon enough the Northerner realized that he was approaching the end of his reps. Using the last of his energy he would power through the rest of his sit-ups before he groaned and brought himself to his feet. Brandt was sore, but in the end it would only help. His stomach would growl like a starving beast and the viking took that as his que to head home. He was in desperate need of food and a wash.

It had been a long day. The giant estimated he had been at it for a solid five hours. That was surely long enough. Heading back toward his rented room, Brandt couldn't help but feel this had served to help him grow in strength, even if it felt like a tree fell on him..

Damn it!

Brandt realized that the likely hood he would actually be able to save both the cargo and the man moving it. So it would ultimately be up to him to choose what to do. And the nord would take it upon himself to choose the driver instead of the cargo.

Rushing forward, the giant would drop low to scoop up his sword and then head toward the front of the cart. Brandt would aim to slam his shoulder into the closest one in the group to knock him into the others. The giant would then pull his sword across in a horizontal slash to cleave into the twelve.

Brandt would loose his grip upon his sword handle, and then receive the pummel strike to the chest. Brandt would loose his breath briefly, but not his wits. His hands already held toward the sky from his previous strike, Brandt's right hand would extend slightly and he would activate his gauntlet as it approached the hammer head.

If it worked like he planned, Brandts gauntlet hand would tug up and away to try and rid the other giant of his own weapon. If it worked he would shoot the hammer away just as he had the arrows before. His left hand would shoot for his face, trying to grasp it with his thumb pressed into his enemy's right eye socket.

 So long as thongs went they way he planned his right hand would then attempt to shoot an arrow into his face at point blank.

Brandt would heed Takehiro's call and begin to follow him, although his pace was still slow. Each footsteps creating an audible thud and heaving little bits of earth as he moved. 600 pounds on top of the near 300 pound giant was enough to make mother earth groan with each movement.

The giant would follow Takehiro toward the smithy, still red face with sweat beginning to bead above his bandaged forehead. This certainly was a work out for the Nord and he wasn't even in combat.

Soon enough though his new instructor would offer him a custom weapon. Brandt would contemplate the idea briefly. He had grown quite fond of his ol' steel carver. But he had to admit, it had seen its fair share of battle. A new weapon wouldnt be a horrible idea.

"Zaan..bat..o?"

The giant simply stared around briefly, breathing heavily as he returned his attention back toward Takehiro. He was clueless as to what a Zanbanto was.