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I did not think it impossible that there had once been a Torvald, one who had come to this land, with followers perhaps, more than a thousand years ago. - (Marauders of Gor, Chapter 16, Sentence #129)

Ivar Forkbeard, lifting his torch, entered the great chamber. I felt grief. It seemed to me not impossible that, at the root of the legends, the sagas, of Torvald, there might be some particles of truth. I did not think it impossible that there had once been a Torvald, one who had come to this land, with followers perhaps, more than a thousand years ago. He might have been a great leader, a mighty warrior, the first of the jarls of the north, but that had been, if it had ever been, more than a thousand years ago. There was now no Torvald. I felt grief at what misery, what disappointment, what disillusionment must now fall to my friend, the Forkbeard. - (Marauders of Gor)