Kicking off the bow of the ship, decking cracked under the force of his mighty leap. Feeling his brodir’s arms wrapped around him, he leaped high into the air, axe in hand, poised and ready.

  Mere moments after he kicked off the deck, the sea serpents tail lashed out at the place where he had been standing. It was pure chaos. Wood splintered as the deck shattered, cracking into multiple pieces. Drengir cried out as the mast snapped and fell, crushing men helpless to dodge.

  Cries of anguish pierced Bjorn’s ears as drengir were crushed, some drowning as the blood-slick boat sank under the weight of unyielding waves. He could not look back, if he did, if he allowed himself to feel the weight of the lives lost, then he would surely die as well, along with Sigurd and Ullr. Still, more than thirty of his drengir were sent to walk to soul road in a single swipe, along with his karvi longship.

  Above him, Ullr was slashing ferociously at the sea serpent. Its screams were a testament to her battle prowess, but it was not enough. She was not strong enough to defeat such a powerful galkn and the serpent thrashed, shooting jets of water which pierced her shoulder. Then Ullr was grunting, falling inside the cyclone and Bjorn resisted the urge to cry out as she disappeared into the elemental.

  “Looks like we’re on a one-way trip to Helheim, brodir,” Sigurd whimpered feebly, barely able to hang onto Bjorn’s thick shoulders.

  “We will see about that,” Bjorn grunted, teeth gritted.

  Then he was crashing through the swirling water, high in the air. He felt Sigurd’s weight leave him and risked a glance to see his brodir swallowed by the cyclone, rotating around the galkn in a watery prison.

  Is that where Ullr is as well? He wondered. Then I need to end this quickly before they both drown.

  Crashing through the swirling water, he felt weightless. Water battered him, the strong current threatening to suck him in. If he let that happen it would all be over. Throwing his shoulder forwards, he barged through to the other side and that’s when he saw it. The two jewels floating at the head of the serpent, ruby eyes glinting atop a thin, black stick. It looked like sinew or rope; the body of the beast was thin and wiry. The bulk of its body was fabricated by the cyclone of water and wind which circled its frail frame.

  Flying forwards, Bjorn’s ocean eyes locked with the serpent’s ruby irises as they glared threateningly at him. Then he was bringing his axe overhead and crashing into the sinewy body, chopping and hacking at it like the trunk of a tree. It was harder than he had expected, but not invulnerable. The sea serpent screamed and jets of sea-salt water shot at him like arrows.

  He grunted, pain flooding him as the water pierced his shoulder, then his leg, then his gut. It was cold, then hot, then the pain shot through him, radiating around the insertion point. Blood mixed with the water and Bjorn saw his Life’s Blood drop drastically. One more hit from the serpent’s attack and he would not live to fulfil his promise. He would not live to kill Aella.

  He felt his vision fading, consciousness rescinding, his skill’s timer about to finish.

  If I do not kill it now, we are all done for.

  Barely aware of his actions, Bjorn gritted his teeth and gripped his axe, spinning in a circle, he put all of his weight, strength, and weapon’s craft into a single strike. His axe bit true, chopping into the sinew and the serpent screamed. He felt its body give way, the resistance he felt against his axe blade giving way to nothing. Then he was falling and his vision gave way to darkness.

  Requirements met. Weapon proficiency [Axe] has increased.

  ***

  Bjorn’s mouth was dry, grains of sand sapping all the moisture as he awoke with a gasp, choking on the sand which was sucked down his throat. He coughed, gagged, and convulsed as water and sand vomited from his mouth and then he was gasping on his hands and knees, the chill of the wind cutting him deeply in his drenched clothes.

  Eyes streaming, nose running, he continued spluttering and then, finally, leaned back onto his calves and breathed deeply. His first breath of English air… or so he hoped.

  Quest Complete:

  Fight Or Flight

  Your ship is besieged by sea serpents; will you fight or flee?

  The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

  Objectives:

  Kill sea serpents 1/6 [FAILED]

  OR

  Flee 1/1

  Rewards:

  New Skill

  The world stopped before he even had a chance to look around. As he read through the runes floating before him, Bjorn grinned at the reward he was about to receive.

  Skill Acquired:

  Forlorn Hope (uncommon)

  When surrounded by multiple enemies, you may activate this skill for a period of 30 seconds. Your vitality and shield proficiency will increase tenfold for the time stated.

  This skill can only be used once per battle.

  This skill is upgradable.

  Once per battle, what does that mean? Bjorn wondered as he read through his new skill. It would be nice if there was some kind of definition.

  As he thought this, new runes appeared before him.

  A battle is defined as a period of combat which ends when all foemen are slaughtered, incapacitated, have surrendered, or have fled. There may be multiple skirmishes within a single battle. If you take a break mid-battle or are offered reprieve, this does not necessarily indicate the end of the battle as defined by Nornir’s Weave.

  “That makes some kind of sense,” Bjorn said. “So then this skill is a defensive skill, and also one which can only be used semi-regularly. I guess I will have to save it for more crucial moments. If I had this skill when fighting the sea serpents, would my drengir have survived?”

  Time unfroze as he spoke to himself, feeling the weight of his losses compounded by the update to his status sheet as if Skuld was trying to remind him of his failure as a leader.

  Allied Forces Tracker:

  Ironside Drengir: 970

  Thirty souls taken into Njord’s embrace, he thought. May your journey through the soul road be full of ale. On the upside, it seems that no one else in the fleet was attacked… or they got away. This is good.

  “I doubt that skill would have made a difference,” Hrafn squawked and Bjorn looked up to see his raven perching on a tree branch. “You are going to send many more to their deaths before this is over. Better to harden yourself towards it.”

  Bjorn nodded. The bird was right. He was the leader; the orchestrator of this great heathen army and he knew that many would die. This was not his first time sending drengir to their deaths and it would not be the last time either. That being said, it felt different knowing that he was the only person on his ship who stood a chance against their enemy. When fighting humans, the fight was fair. When fighting galkn however…

  “Where is Ullr,” Bjorn asked. “I can see that she is alive through the weave. Is Sigurd with her?”

  “Who knows?” Hrafn replied. “I have been watching over your beaten arse since we got here. It seems Njord spat you back out. That does not speak much to your flavour.”

  “Well then,” Bjorn said. “Will you use your scouting talents and find them for me?”

  Without a word Hrafn took off, soaring over the trees and Bjorn knew he was completing his request. With that done, he needed to work out where he was, where the rest of his army were. They had lost contact with the rest of the fleet when the storm hit and Bjorn had to hope that the survivors were also somewhere in this land. He needed to find them, but first he needed to dry his clothes and find some food. Death by exposure was not a good way to die and with Hrafn given the task of finding Ullr and Sigurd he could focus on his own survival.

  ***

  The sun fell quickly as Bjorn sat by his fire at the edge of the woods. The beach was short. Beige sand met brown earth in the area where he sat by the outer trees. As he took in the warmth, naked before the elements as his clothes dried on a hastily made rack of branches, he was thankful for the lessons in survival that his father had taught him as a bairn.

  Despite his nakedness and the evening chill, Bjorn was surprised to find that he was only slightly cold. Back home, he would have been freezing even in summer. The nights were cold in Lejre, every steading had a fire burning constantly to ward away the frost. Yet here, he sat naked in the woods and was not concerned that the elements would end him.

  Father once mentioned that this land was ripe for farming, he thought. Is this what he meant?

  He felt weak, his axe blade still held the red glow of being fire-brushed and the hole in his stomach, caused by the sea serpent’s water, was now a red welt. The heated axe blade had closed the wound, but not without cost. It seemed that in doing so he had raised his Life’s Blood but the pain was not one he would forget anytime soon.

  Just then, he heard rustling in the nearby bushes which led deeper into the forest. Instinctually grabbing his weapons belt, he crouched on his haunches and watched, waiting.

  As he looked, a small green creature popped it’s head out from within the bush. He smelled it before he saw it. Boils covered its green face, grinning, sharp, yellow teeth caught on the fire light and beady black eyes stared at him from flickering shadows. Wearing only a loincloth, the small creature took a tentative step forwards and Bjorn’s hand found the handle of his seax. The creature had pointed ears and a pointed nose. It looked emaciated, yet it seemed to be trailing something large behind it. A club maybe?

  That was when time froze.

  Forest Goblin

  These trickster spirits are one of Loki’s earliest creations, which made their way to Midgard. Their history is almost as old as the god himself. Named “kobalos” by the Greeks, and “gobelin” in Frankia, these tiny devils are a form of pack galkn.

  Despite their small size, do not underestimate their cunning ways. Where there is one, there will always be more.

  … There will always be more? Bjorn thought as time resumed and he stared hesitantly at the little goblin. It did not look frightening, but that grin certainly harboured a trick or two.

  More rustling caught Bjorn’s ears and more goblins stepped out of the bushes, their teeth glinting on the firelight. Then he noticed a few in the trees, sitting on branches, holding bows. Then a few more came from the beach and in less time than it would take to blink, he was surrounded by a dozen of the tiny creatures.

  “I take it this is no simple robbery?” He asked the lead goblin who was still grinning, still trailing his club.

  The goblin opened its mouth and screamed back at him.