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

The sea roiled as waves lapped hungerly against the approaching Snekke class long ship. It's sanguine stripped sail flowed eagerly in the strong breeze. Lightning split the sky with bolts of terrifying power. The ionic cleansing of the air bringing about a sense of change and clarity before a storm of a different nature began. Thor is pleased with us! Listen to how he works his anvil! The god's are with us today! The giant warriors aboard the ship roared in agreement thrusting fist and axe into the sky. Not all of them were men, about a quarter were women who stood nearly six feet tall. In the Norse Germanic pagan society, women were equal to men and were not denied the chance to find glory on the battlefield. To the Danes, raiding was not a matter of evil or good. Like wolves of the sea, they were hunting the easy prey of the fertile west so their people might prosper. The foolish Christians left many coastal villages unprotected and stockpiled riches in their dead god's temples guarded by strange robed men. Leif stood at the bow of the ship near the wooden carving of a great Raven, a symbol of Odin. The skies wept cold tears of joy upon his face as he closed his eyes and prepared himself for what lie ahead. The men rowed at a steady pace, great oars dipping into the water propelling the slender but strong vessel forward towards the beachhead of North Umbria. The steady beat of drums maintained their rhythm and also put them all into a trance. His long blonde hair was in stark contrast to his dark brown beard which both reached his broad chest. The chainmail and fur armor he wore was more than capable of stopping the cold and a blade to a degree. However it was the Northmans uncanny natural resilience is what made them legendary. The men and women began to sing as they felt Odin's presence amongst them. When you stand by the Gate of Death And you have to tear free I shall follow you across the Resounding Bridge with my song Cattle die, kinsman die You yourself will die I know one that never dies The reputation of those who died. The Snekke crashed into the sand, the loose earth folding before the might of their construct. All fifty raiders grabbed their great circular wooden shields off the sides of the boat, and leapt over the side with sword and axe in hand. Leif stood before them, his glacier blue eyes alive with the might of the gods. Fight as if it were your last! The All Father is with us! Our families at home await our triumphant return just as much as our ancestors look forward to sharing ale with us in Valhalla! Show no fear to these Westerners as they are but frightened deer before us! Protect the brother beside you and fight with honor! With that Leif started slapping the head of his axe against the metal dome which rested in the center of his shield. When the other Norse men did the same, it created an intimidating beat of war. They approached the village in a shield wall formation, in five columns. The men in front carried pilums to skirmish with, while the hirdman made up the middle. A few huscarls who joined them took up the flank of the brigade, each of them holding a two handed Dane axe, capable of crushing through both shield and armor alike. The distant bell of alarm began to sound. No doubt they were spotted before reaching the shore. Sure enough, the first wave of defenders were ready to meet them just beyond the beach head. The midgets of Britain had superior steel this much was known, but they lacked the strength and spirit of the Northman. The Vikings like wolves of the sea, could smell the fear in the air. Leif roared to his comrades SHIELD WALL. The hirdman and axe warband infantry raised their shields in a defensive link that protected them from the volley of arrows that came their way. They laughed as the puny projectiles thudded into the great oaken barriers. The Danish marauders responded by unleashing a barrage of thrown javelins as they advanced quickly. Much heavier than arrows, the pilums pierced both armor and weighed down shields making them less effective. A handful of the English fell as a result, but they held the line as the Norse warriors charged. The impact of the two line infantry smashing together was deafening. Axe and sword were raised and brought down with great fury. For a moment the defenders seemed to be holding the line. But like true predators, the northern tribesman encircled their prey. The Huscarls bit into the flanks, crushing men beneath their heavy war axes. The English began to waver as more of their men fell before the giants. Only a minute of furious fighting lasted until they lost half their men, and they began to route. The raiders showed no mercy, throwing both spear and axe into the backs of those who turn and ran. Only a handful escaped back to the village. Axe and sword slapped the centers of their shields, as they marched to the beat once more descending upon the straw and wooden houses of the simple farming community. Civilians were not typically spared. They were put to the sword. The men began to ransack the houses. Taking whatever they wished, and razing everything behind them with torches. The ultimate goal however was the Church on the hillside overlooking the ocean. In there would be the greatest treasures of gold and silver. The remaining defenders seemed to be rallying in the center of the town. Their captain was attempting to make a last stand against these invaders who seemed to be inspired by the devil himself. The two opposing forces faced off admist the burning settlement. Blood and smoke thick in the air. The Northern barbarians roared like lions at the English, thudding their shields like men possessed. Leif charged forward with axe raised high, and his brothers followed him closely behind...