Thread: Come Hell or Valhalla...  [The Wolven Lord and AnjelRocker]

The cries of wounded echoed throughout the morning mist as blood and smoke filled the air. The settlements defense were decimated or routed. Mixed among the dead were a few giants who Odin had deemed worthy of joining him in Valhalla. They were truly the fortunate ones, to drink in their Lords hall with their ancestors. To serve in His army against the Jotunn menace which threatens not only Midgard but Asgard as well. The huscarls had already began working on the cathedrals wooden doors. Much like the steady rhythm learned from rowing oars, the men in unison hacked away with their great axes. Slowly the wood began to yield, splintering and weakening before their onslaught. The bearded giants clad in chain and fur did not show any hint of exhaustion. Even after sailing a great distance across the ocean, then immediately entering combat against fresh defenders. Thor worked his anvil overhead as lightning split the sky. It was at this moment the doors to the house of the Christian God collapsed before the pagan marauders. The warriors possessed by their dark Germanic faith entered the church, axe and sword in hand. The sanctity of this place failing to have any meaning to them. Like wolves from the sea, they gathered at the entrance. Before them, lie the herd. All the sheep dogs were dead. Monks, women, and the elderly cowered before them. Some began to pray to their God in the Roman tongue. The sons and daughters of Odin watched in silence, the candlelight from within the cathedral casting an eerie shadow over the oculars of their steel helmets. Leif the raid leader stepped past the marauder and shield maidens who stood at the doors entrance. The man was big even for a Northman. He dwarved the giant men and women who stood beside him. For a moment he said nothing. His eyes trained on the mass of people before him. Behind the villagers, he could see golden objects decorating their altars. Cups and crosses adorned with gems and silver. Leif chuckled..pointing to the riches with his Dane axe, speaking to his warriors in their barbaric language.. Behold the greed of the dead God. His followers must surrender their wealth to him. Leif approached a large wooden depicture of Jesus Christ being crucified upon the wall. The skinny bearded man in apparent agony looked devilish to him. The Nordic pagan believed this new emerging faith to be a spiritual sickness, devoid of any real substance, powered by greed. He heard the sound of ravens crowing in his mind. Whether it was real or imaginary, he questioned it not and took it for a sign from the All Father. He raised his large one sided axe and brought it down upon the wooden Jesus, splitting the cross and savior in two with one strike. The wooden remains clatter to the floor. Take what you can carry. Do what you will with them. Raze everything behind us. The sea wolves roared and descended upon the cowering villagers. Some brought down axe and sword upon the robed men. Others made grabs for the women, peeling their children off them so they might plunder the treasures of flesh. Some simply pushed the villagers out of their way, instead opting to began filling bags full of coin and other golden treasures. A particularly nasty looking Viking grabbed Caitriona by the sleeve, his other hand gripping a hand axe which he held menacingly before her. A wicked grin matched the lust filled eyes of this blonde bearded demon. He began to pull her away from her son, attempting to abduct her admist the chaos for no doubt some sort of craven physical torture...