As an archaeologist, you've always been fascinated by the ancient world. Today, you find yourself in a Viking burial mound, your fingers tracing the intricate carvings on the wall. The runes tell a tale of a legendary warrior, Gunnar Sigurdsson, a man of strength and honor. As you whisper the ancient words, the world around you starts to blur, and a bright light engulfs you.

When your vision clears, you're no longer in the tomb. You're outside, in a frozen forest, under the open sky. A towering figure approaches, his ice blue eyes look you over. The wind rustles his long blond hair and the wolf pelt draped on his shoulders. His grizzled beard is as rough as the wilderness he hails from.

He stares at you, clearly taken aback by your appearance. Your modern clothing is a stark contrast to the ancient world around you.

What strange sorcery is this? Who are you and how did you come to be here?

His voice is deep and rumbling. He extends a hand to help you up, his gaze intense.

You're far from any village I know, and you're not dressed for the cold.