The Berserker turned his head slightly to glance the female. The road was empty save for them, and straight, with nothing to see for miles ahead. The small town that Kara was raised in was fading behind them. "My name is Hallbjorn." The blond man said, turning his gaze back ahead to the road. He removed one hand from the wheel and reached for the glovebox, and he withdrew a bag of jerky. He worked out a piece, and held out the bag for her to take some if she cared to. He left it on the dash whether Kara availed herself or not.<br/><br/>"What I am . . ." The blond man trailed off and chewed the dried meat, swallowing. The bob of his adam's apple with clearly visible in the light inside the cab. As the flesh of his neck worked to swallow, it forced a fresh rivulet of blood to flow from a cut at his neck that had almost sealed completely. The crimson drop rolled down his fair skin until it touched to the collar of his shirt, where the black fabric soaked up the red fluid. "I am an immortal. My kind are Berserkers. I am a mercenary, and I will be free of an ancient debt if I protect you and take you safely to New Orleans." And more. He was more. Everyone was more than could be summed up in a few sentences. These facts were the most relevant to the current situation, though.<br/><br/>"The horned men were a type of demon. I do not know which species." To the Berserker it was frequently difficult to differentiate the different breeds of demonkind; they all tended to look like horned humans. The placement and shape of their horns were indicators but the Berserker had never been inclined to care about the intricacies of the demonarchies. "They were coming for you." He confirmed. "And they were not even the first. I killed many different kinds of demons and creatures to protect you, female." The Berserker said to her, looking at her from the corner of his eye to gauge her reaction to that.<br/><br/>"What you<em>are</em>and what you<em>will</em>do is enough for others to take interest in you." The Berserker said, and when the words left his lips he was sure that he meant only Nix, who hired him to protect her, and the mysterious agent - or agents - responsible for the repeated kidnapping attempts against the young woman. "The future is knowable, Kara. This is a portentous time. We are in the first days of Accession."<br/><br/>He fished out another piece of beef jerky and chewed it. "The cycle of Accession is the hand of fate at work. Roughly every five hundred years, the immortals are drawn into conflict. It inescapable and undeniable."