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 Trondheim wrote:
Someone will ... get axed a question.

Love it.

Glad to see the trio once more, I liked this very much. though, having to wait to see what the dog was growling at and what the young lad is all about is not so fun.

Many thanks for the kind feedback. Here is the next chapter, C&C always welcomed

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As the frontiersman entered the gloomy common room accompanied by his hound whom sneezed violently when the stank of the smoke that came from the smoldering chunks of peat that lay heaped in the great fireplace that sat at the center of the room, while the bar whom where staffed by a slender and weasel looking man and a thin wisp of a serving maid. Around the room sat various groups of people, most where by the looks of it trades men or people whom where quite well of when it came to coin.

But there was a series of long tables occupied by a loud group of men clad in fine cloths and with manners that screamed that they where of noble breeding, and they did not seem shy about flaunting their status either to these mere common folks of the lands. Swallowing his dislike for that type of men he wandered towards his companion whom sat near the far wall, her axe resting on the table well within reach should she need to swing that unpleasant thing in anger.
“ I assume this one was intended for me?” he said as he sunk down onto a chair and taking the flagon pushed before him by the half troll. He drunk deeply and let out a small sigh of relief and satisfaction.
“ So then! Unless you have payed for anything else than beer I intend to get something eatable for myself, should I bring anything for you?”
“ Meat, I don’t care if its cooked or not. I could eat my own leather boots by now” she replied and drunk deeply of her own flagon before fishing up a ornate silver necklace from between her two ample breasts and seemed to loos herself in studying the ornate silver piece.
Nodding Brage got to his feet and gestured for Dread to remain beside the table, he did not wish to give the three dozen noble sons and their entourage any reason to get any ideas of making known how they felt about people from the fringes of the kingdom, although would be more worried for their safety than his own if that where to happen.
“ Barkeeper! More of your fine ale and two solid portions of warm and hearty food! Also a large bone or something similar for my four legged companion if you please.” he said with a smile on his lips as he held his coin purse in his left hand, while the other rested at his sword hilt.
“Also if you could, what are those particulary loud souls over there celebrating?” he said and pointed discretely at the drunken nobles.
The weasel like barkeeper looked the tall and wiry stranger that stood at his counter, and seemed to let out a sigh. Taking two large flagons and filling them to the brim with foaming ale he said as he placed them on the bar.
“ Those whore sons are not celebrating, they are as far as I am concerned not but a pain in my arse. Being high and noble as they always are they are drinking away the evening before going home to their mansions, but not before having broken enough tableware and a few bones to cause us mere peasants a lot of grief. It was never this bad before the old lord went and died in the civil war, peace be upon his noble soul I say.”
“How much do I own you for both food and drink, plus the information?”
“ thirty coppers and the information is free. But don’t go starting any trouble!”
“Dully noted” said Brage and payed the man and walked back to his own table.

He reached the table without anything happening, and set himself down beside Ashild whom had taken of her heavy fur cloak and sat there in her wool shirt, and he noted that the garment did not leave much to the imagination where a man to study the company he kept. She seemed to still be mesmerized by the twinkling piece of jewelry she held in one hand.
“ So I hate to break your moment of respite and study of the fine art of silver smiting, but here is your beer as requested. Also I dare say that is quite the treasure you have there. May I ask where you found or bought it?”
She blinked and almost looking ashamed to be caught dreaming, she replied to him in a low tone, while she patted Dread with her other hand.
“ Many thanks for the drink, by the gods it feels good to wash away the hardship of the roads with this. And well seeing how you have proven to be one of the most trustworthy men I have encountered over the years, and since Dread too is a example of your moral standing I may consider answering that question.” she said and set the flagon down and sinking back in her chair.
“ this treasure alongside my axe are the two things that keeps me sane, and helps me keep the beast that lurks in the darkness of my soul at bay. The silver trinket came to me as a gift from someone whom once where my lover, my guiding light and ultimately will be the one whom sets me free from the curse that is holding me shackled to the past. It is both a precious and yet hated thing. The sight of it fills my hearth with longing and it makes my body run hot with lust for the one whom gifted it to me. As for where I got it..... Well some secrets a maiden must maintain, it dose suit a lady to give all away without a struggle” she said and fixed him with her radiant eyes and a grin.
Feeling somewhat unprepared for such an level of honesty from the woman sitting opposite him Brage took a deep and lengthy pull from his own stein of beer.
“Well glad you find me and my faithful hound trustworthy and decent folk to share the road and stories with!”
before he could say more however their food came, piled high on plates and steaming. The meal where boiled mutton and cabbage of some sort alongside black rye bread.
The kitchen aide whom brought them the food took away the empty beer steins and left them to their meal.
Sometime after the plates where cleared of the mutton whom was tough as booth leather, much to the joy of Dread whom had been given a generous amount of bones and such to devour.
They sat in silence and listened to the hum of voices that filled the air as the night drew closer, and outside a ice cold shower filled the air and pounded the cobblestones in the courtyard hard and mercilessly.
It did not take long before Ashild felt that the warm embrace of sleep calling to her, the spiced wine she had drunk had left a tingling sensation in her body, and she felt the need to rest under a warm blanket and away from the world at large.
Getting to her and feeling somewhat confident that she would not keel over and fall asleep before she got to her room, she bid Brage and his hound good night and swayed of up the dimly light flight of stairs.
As she reached her room she felt as if the room was spinning around her, and a strange sense of warm discomfort flooded her body and mind, her breathing became labored and she tried to keep herself from vomiting. But it was too late, like a child she vomited the contents of her stomach on the stained wood floor and gasped in a state of fear and confusion.
Then her knees failed her and she slumped down and lay on her side, spit and vomit spilling from her vomit, as she lay there convulsing and making a mess of herself she fumbled for her silver necklace and one of the bone rings that where braided into her long mane of hair.
Darkness began to fill her eyes and she began to weep silently as she lay there in near darkness, and finally slipped into unconsciousness.
Meanwhile the half troll lay on the cold floor on the room, and drifted in and out of the nightmare that had consumed her, Brage sat in deep thought and mussed over the days that lay ahead of him. He was sure they would reach the capitol without anyone waylaying them or outright trying to kill them all and make of with the scrolls he carried with him.
As he sat there thinking, planning and maybe feeling the sting of worried thoughts he payed no heed when the door bell sounded and a large party of travelers came in from the storm that was howling outside the windows and making travel a deeply unpleasant undertaking this night.
He only began to study these newly arrived individuals when Dread, whom lay at his side and had been slumbering for some time rose and growled, the low bass tone coming deep from within his broad chest and the hair on the neck of the hound stood as if someone where pulling at them.
“Cease your rumbling hound! Unless you wish to sleep outside!” Brage said annoyed but still, he looked in the direction that his hound where gazing.
He noticed the weasel looking bar keeper looking fleetingly his way before looking at the large group of men that stood in front of his bar and demanded his service and attention.
The man looked afraid, very afraid and it seemed odd that so many travelers would be out and about this late. Particularly considering where the inn lay, had it been in one of the great cities of the realm he would not have considered this odd but here however he did indeed find it somewhat abnormal as this was a relatively minor provincial capitol, witch lay at least five days ride from the nearest city of a significant size. That how the inn keeper had looked in his general direction made his skin crawl with a rising sense of worry. He sat more upright and discretely as he could made sure his sword was ready.

Later he could not remember what made him pick up the goblet Ashild had been drinking from, but for now he cared not about the particular reason for doing so. Taking it carefully in his hand as if being afraid to spill some of the deep red wine he sniffed it cautiously and grimaced.
A strong smell of sweetness assaulted his nostrils alongside a hint of something reminding him of burnt bone. Swearing like a drunken sailor from Vanaheim Brage dropped the goblet and turned to fix the inn keeper with his eyes.
By then it was too late he realized, the trap had been sprung by his opponents whom now where drawing steel and grinning as a pack of ravenous wolfs as they did so, he knew this was a fight he was unlikely to win or come out alive but he would be damned if he went down without taking a few of them with him. To his side Dread stood and snarled menacingly as he eyed these two legged wolfs that looked to threaten his master.
The remaing patrons of the inn seemed to have been hastened by the gods themselves as they scrambled out of the way of the armed men whom probably would not hesitate to send them to the afterlife if they got in the way.
Of those looking to dispose of him there was one in particular that caught Brage`s attention, the man still had the hood of riding cloak up, as if he wished to hide his features from the world at large. But he had not the time to ponder about this any longer for the fearful whimpering of the inn keeper whom where gurgling up his own life blood caught his attention. The hooded one had driven a long bladed dagger into the chest of the man, just below the rib bone and dropped the dying man to the ground as if discarding a piece of garbage.
“That is your reward for failing to do the task given to you! Die in the shame of knowing you failed your master maggot!” the hooded man said as his minions surged towards Brage with drawn steel.
Brage drew his own sword and gripped his dagger in his other hand and greeted the fist man with a swift jab aimed at distracting him, as he brought his dagger in to deliver the killing blow. The man whom held a long sword blocked his sword and twisted to avoid the the dagger but as he did a hard kick to his knee knocked him out of balance and the return jab from the dagger of his foe got him in the shoulder, rending his sword arm useless. The broad bladed dagger had torn trough the mail shirt worn by the man and bitten deep into his shoulder blade.
As the man fell a shadow loomed over him and he gazed up at the yellow maw of the great hound whom snarled and with a hungry growl seized him by the throat and began to shake him so violently that large sprays of arterial blood stained the face and chest of the hound as it savaged the wounded man.
Brage threw himself sideways to avoid the brutal blow aimed at his head by a man armed with a unpleasant looking mace and a short sword, avoiding a saber slash and rewarding the saber wielding man with a elbow to the face and a dagger to the groin he tried to keep clear of the remaing men whom where circling around him. A yelp of pain followed by a horrified scream told him that his four legged companion has sunk is teeth into someone and where busy tearing that person to bloody chunks. Parrying several aggressive swipes from a sword armed man he did not however see the blow that sent him flying across the room and crashing down onto a table. He lay there gasping for breath and trying to get to his feet but the air had been knocked out of him and he barely managed to get to his feet using his sword to support himself as he did.
His blurry eyes saw that despite his fears there was not a giant or some other beast that had sent him flying, but it was much to his displeasure the hooded man whom stood there, with one hand gripping what seemed to be a orb of sorts that pulsed with a foreboding light seemingly pulsing from it as the man held it.
Brage felt his hearth almost stop in his chest as he watched the man, he had hoped to never cross paths with one of the trice cursed mongrels that had sold their soul in exchange for the arcane knowledge and madness that followed in its wake.
The robes dropped from the the man as if pulled of by some unseen servant and the sorcerer took one menacing step towards the frontiersman whom had managed to get to his feet and held his sword as if to ward of the evil that walked towards him.
“ Lower the sword child and hand over what belongs to my mistresses! And I may allow you to die relatively fast” he said in a sinister tone as if to make clear how outclassed his foe where.
“ Splendid sword work I must say, if you where a man for hire I would pay good coin for your skill but alas you must die!” the sorcerer said and stopped just out of sword length from Brage.
He could not see Dread and assumed that the hound was either dead or had run away in fear of the artist of the dark arts that had revealed himself.
“ Toss yourself of a cliff you arse!” Brage said and spat at the man, if he where to die by the hands of this....thing camouflaged as a man he would die with some measure of dignity at last he decided.
“ What foul language! I think I take offense to your manners you primitive dog!” said the sorcerer and as if slapping a child sent Brage reeling with a gesture of his free hand.
He landed hard and felt his head spin wildly as he lay there with the sharp tang of blood in his mouth.
“ Hold him!” he heard the devil say to his remaing men and he felt gloved hands gripping him and forcing him to his knees.
“I have changed my mind, you will die slowly and in great pain! A complete lack of manners and absolute disrespect for someone you should kneel before I will not have” said his foe as his two minions held the dazed man between them and a third stood ready with a axe should the soon dead man get any ideas.
As the sorcerer put away the orb that had gone black and cold now, and drew a slender and unpleasant looking knife and looked ready to slit his throat the room erupted in mayhem and mindless savagery.

another cliff hanger! my dear man this is simply too much. What of Ashild, what of the dog? And who the feth is this sorcerer?

Well I am a tease amongst other things await and see my man

She had awoken in a pool of her own vomit and sickness, the abhorrent stink made her grin and swear foully as she pushed herself up from the floor and swayed for a moment on her feet.
Her mouth was filled with the taste of burnt bone and something resembling the taste of burnt tar. This along the fact that she had violently vomited and collapsed in a trembling heap on the floor told her enough, someone had slipped a potent sleeping potion or maybe some exotic poison into her gobbet of wine. She vowed to have a word with the inn keeper when she got her hands on him, but as she did so her ears where filled with something akin to someone puncturing a wine skin filled with air. The faint resonance in the floor and the fine line of dust that fell from the roof above her head, then she felt it. Her silver trinket burnt against her breasts and the copper and bone totems woven into her hair felt warm against her scalp. She now knew whom had drugged and made her tremble like a child on the floor as the poison had tried to overwhelm her but had come up short against her body whom where highly resistant to such foul things.
Bending down and picking up her axe, that had been dropped unceremoniously dropped as she had stumbled into the room before collapsing she felt the weight of the weapon in her hands and felt a sense of calm finding her boiling mind, yes it was time to shed blood and let the red ruin of fury.
As she stalked trough the gloominess of the silent second floor of the tavern she stepped in something wet that was definitively not water or wine. Looking down she saw that she was standing in a pool of crimson red blood, looking around for the source she saw it. A girl no older than perhaps seventeen lay on her side, her eyes wide in fear and her wool dress stained with blood that flowed from her cut throat.
The half troll bent down and closed the eyes of the child and paused a moment to offer a silent prayer for the dead girl whom had been so brutally torn out of this life.
As she rose to her full height the warrior woman readied her axe and walked onwards to the stairs leading down to the common room and her foes that no doubtlessly awaited her there.
The stink of sorcery and its decrepit caster assailed her nostrils as she reached the top of the stairs and she felt the bezerker rage growing in her mind as she heard the voice of the serpent and his cruel minions coming from below. It was all she needed to edge her over the edge and into the dark abyss of the blood fury, the red haze welcomed her in its warm and familiar depths.

The first man to feel her blood rage was a man standing with his back to her as she came down the stairs in a great tiger like leap, she struck him hard in the lower back with her full weight and strength. The blow splintering bone and sending the man tumbling down to the floor with a tortured cry of anguish and surprise. But the man had not time to cry out in pain again, for the warrior woman swung her axe down hard and split his skull down to the teeth. The remaing men turned to see this new foe of theirs snarl at them like a wild animal.
The sorcerer gazed at the warrior woman clad in her heavy mail shirt and gripping her axe dripping with blood.
“ And here come the last of the savages come! Kill her and then set this place aflame! I will dispose of this swine here” he said and pointed to Brage whom had fixed his soon to be killer with a evil glare as he tried to gather the strength take at least one of these devils with him to the grave.
To the threats from the artist of the dark arts Ashild did not reply. As soon as the vulture had finished speaking she was moving, her axe blocked blows and bit hard in return.
A man found himself on the receiving end of the axe hammer and staggered backwards, his eyes blurred and his head ringing from the powerful blow but before he could shake the effects of the axe rose again and fell hard, catching him in the shoulder and biting deep into his chest.
Using the dead man as a improvised shield Ashild lifted him with one hand and shielded herself from a crossbow bolt shot at her from across the room, the heavy bolt biting deep into the back of the dead man. Her foes where skilled in the ways of fighting and swarmed her like wolves hounding a great bear, and she found herself pressed hard as she head butted a man and punched him hard in the face, sending him sprawling with a broken and bleeding nose.
The fight became a blur of steel, movement and the sickening crunch of breaking bone and tearing flesh.
She had just dodged a sword trust from a man carrying a longsword and a kite shield when something akin to a wind gust sent her tumbling across the bloodstained floor and over the corps of a dead patron whom lay face down.
“Enough of this nonsense, if you stumbling charlatans cant kill this braided savage I will have to do it myself.” the sorcerer said and stepped towards her, with a curved sword in his hands and a eerily aura of pale light coming from his other hand whom where gripping a tear shaped stone.
Ashild got to her feet and looked at this new foe of hers and felt a slight chill running down her back as she did.
He bore all the trademarks of a man devoid of any warmt or loyalty in her eyes, his body a mere corrupted husk and shelter for the evil spirit that seemed to dwell within almost all men whom had taken up the dark arts.
“ Bah you do not scare my vulture! Your tricks and devious schemes will not save you from my axe! Anyone whom takes the life of the defenseless can not claim to be anything else than a coward” she growled and spat on the floor and gripped her axe.
“ You want to see my blood on your blade? Come then! If you are man enough for it!” she said in sheer spite towards the man and his illusions of his own ability to scare those whom surrounded him with his foul arts.
The remaing henchmen did as ordered and held back from the snarling half troll that had taken a bloody toll on their number, and even now growled in defiance against their master.
The sorcerer approached her with confident steps and he leaped into the attack like a pouncing wolf upon a deer. His sword aimed at her gut while his lips formed the incantations of a spell that he intended to hurl at this uncivilized wench. She blocked his first blow and returned with a sharp and wickedly fast swipe aimed at his left side intended to cripple him or blunt his ability to fight. He parried and flung a stream of oozing black smoke at her, narrowly missing her and instead the ink like smoke dissipated into the air and left a acrid stink that filled the room.
The pair swung and jabbed at each other like two mad dancers at some twisted and deadly form of theater as each of them sought the means to strike the other down and end this.
Ashild swore as she felt the sharp tip of the sword of her foe nick her just below the eye, she had barely avoided the series of sharp swings and jabs delivered by the man she was fighting.
His skill with the blade was great, much greater than she had expected from someone whom she suspected spent weeks and weeks pouring over dusty old tomes and scrolls found in some long abandoned crypt or decrepit city of the far south. Throwing herself onto the floor and roiling fast to the right she narrowly managed to avoid another one of those damned puffs of ink like smoke thrown out by the man.
“ Getting desperate are we?” he teased as he hurled a knife after the half troll, the blade missed but it allowed him time to close the gap between them and gave him a chance to strike at her with his weapon. She did not reply but merely grunted and much to his surprise she hurled one of the massive oaken chairs that stood well within arms reach at him with all her strength.

The chair hit him like a stone striking a bird and the man tumbled backwards as splinters of the chair flew everywhere around him, it had not been a deadly blow but he bled from several minor cuts in his face and he felt blood in his mouth as he regained his pose with sword in hand.
“ Desperate? No I have not been desperate since the last great battle of the war I took part in some thirty years ago you coward!” she growled as she rushed towards him and in a display of her martial skills she ducked under his guard and came up with a hammer like blow that connected with his jaw and made the man drop to the ground like he had been struck with a axe in the head.
He tried to raise the hand that gripped the stone that now glowed like an ember but as he did so the great axe fell once and took of that limb at the elbow.
The man wailed in abject pain and shock as he watched his limp limb being kicked away by the red haired devil that now loomed over him.
“Now then! Do not wander of and die just yet! I shall deal with your servants before I allow you to even think about death!”
The men whom had been watching their master fight against this red haired devil seemed unwilling to continue this now lost fight of theirs.
“Whom will be next to die? Or will you all run away screaming like children?” the warrior woman teased as she stalked towards them with murder in her eyes.
The men did not seem interested in finding out just how much fight remained in the bloodstained woman, and the handful of them turned on their heels and raced for the door.
Ashild hurled her axe after one of them and the heavy axe struck one man in the back, the man gave a tortured scream as he fell down and a second equally tortured scream as the axe was torn free from the red ruin that was the gaping wound in his back.
The rest of the men slipped out of the courtyard and ran like whipped dogs through the all but empty streets of the town, they paused near the live stock pens outside the city and stood almost bent double as they heaved for breath and courage to look for the horses they had left in the care of some of the cattle traders that had camped around here somewhere. Then it was one of them said in a fearful and low tone, “ Oi did anyone of you lads see where Sigurd and Snorri went? Or did that hag get her pawns on them?”
“No they where right behind me as we left that damned place, but I know for certain than Morg never got out, I heard him scream just as I ran out the door.”
Just as he has said those words a baleful how rose up from somewhere in the town that lay beyond them and the men knew then that they would never see those two whom where missing again.
“Oh that is just peachy ain’t it! That damned hound got them! I swear on all the gods in this world I am done with this sort of work!” the same man said and spat some of the blood that had run down from his ruined nose and into his mouth onto the muddy ground at his feet.
“ Well at least that freak is no more ain’t he?”
“Aye he is dead as a door nail for sure that one! Good riddance I say!”

I liked the description with the axe during the fight. It was most entertaining to hear the blow by blow account but also the moments you chose to speed up the delivery. well done, hope to hear more soon

Well glad You approve, i was sort of lost on how do penn this figth. Something about a magic wielder Vs a "standard" figther so to speak.

It come off pretty well TBH, so no worries there. Though the chapter did seem to end suddenly. It felt like there was more to be said as it felt like it was leading to something at the end.

Well I sort of run out of things to put in it tbh, but I will pick up the thread in the next one

Good man I'l await the next installment eagerly.

You can't beat a good bar room brawl! Nicely described, Trondheim. I particularly liked the beaten minions fleeing and reckoning their losses ... I approve that the hound got the last word!

In the bloodstained and wrecked common room there was none stirring except for Brage whom, had gotten to his feet and tried to keep himself upright, but the pain still stung his body like hot iron on exposed flesh. He looked around and tried to count the dead that lay around him.
He counted at least thirteen of his foes laying silent in various unnatural shapes and postures, their bloody corpses broken and spent. There where several others whom had been killed too, most of them where patrons whom had tried to resist the devils but to no avail.
Then he saw that vile serpent of a man that had been the cause of all this mayhem and bloodshed, the cretin lay sprawled on the floor with blood pooling out from his severed arm. And over the foul serpent of a man loomed Ashild in all her imposing figure. A dark cloud seemed to have settled over her and devoid her of all traces of human emotion as she seemed intent on interrogating the maimed man and perhaps making him pay all the more for his actions towards the poor bar keeper and the dead girl whom lay silent and cold upstairs.
She gripped the man by the throat and his bleeding stump like a snake seizing a mouse, and as she began to question the man she squeezed his maimed arm, thus drawing a tortured moan of pain from him.
Brage found that he had no stomach for watching the she devil torturing the dying man for information, and meanwhile giving him a taste of is own terror before he died. Limping outside into the gloom outside he drew his bone pipe and stuffed it with the strong tobacco he had left in the leather pouch he carried on him.
Leaning back and supporting himself against the wall he drew a deep puff of smoke and let out a long stream of bluish smoke, he tried to feel if he had broken any bones or where bleeding badly.
Feeling none of those things the man let out a deep sigh of relief and felt himself awash with weariness now.
“ Damned this! Damn it all to the abyss and beyond! Just when a poor soul is beginning to feel rested some arse needs to stir up a hornets nest like this!” he muttered somewhat annoyed to himself, as he stood there smoking and feeling the sting of both pain and anger.
He stood there in silence and listened to the horrific screams of the man, whom where being tortured for answers inside, the sickening stink of burnt flesh began to drift out of the door, whom had been knocked of its hinges under the fight that had raged inside not long ago.
His nostrils assailed by this foul stench, the wounded man began to limp away from the inn and towards the barn. A place he hoped where devoid of half trolls, henchmen and other various unruly parties. As the world weary man found a hay pile to rest his weary bones in, there where others beginning to stir.

The throne room was silent as the grave, no courtiers and no servants milled about. Nor did the muttered voices of the people whom normally filled the room heard. Instead there where only silence as the queen sat alone on her throne only surrounded by the grim faced royal guard whom stood silent as granite statues in the shadowy alcoves along the walls.
Queen Charsi sat buried in a massive heap pile of letters and scrolls delivered to her by various messengers. Her face set in a neutral tone as she read these things, her mind awash with thoughts of war and betrayal and the looming possibility of the gruesome reality of a second civil war.
She had always liked these silent hours of the early mornings before the court was assembled and her attention demanded by those whom knelt at her feet.
“Bah enough of these damned things!” she said and began to put away the mass of letters and reaching for her goblet filled with a expensive white wine from the south.
“Captain if you have time to spare send my thanks to the wine merchant, and you may begin to let whomever feels the need to see me this day in.”
“I will do that my queen! From what I have heard they are quite unruly this day, I would send for some cotton to help shield your ears from the worst noise and cackle.” the bear like man said as he gestured to his fellow guardsmen to open the great doors that lead into the throne room.
“Tell me something I don’t already know Captain, this rabble makes more noise than a swarm of seagulls trailing a fishing boat” the queen said.
The captain of the guard stood in grim silence and surveyed the mass of people whom drifted past him, and into the throne room. It was a varied lot, everything from thanes from the very edges of the kingdom whom had come to ask for more troops, coin to maintain the border forts or some other practical form of aid. There was merchants whom came to argue why they should pay less tax or if they came from abroad they would seek permission to set up trade with the kingdom of Kels.
These folks did not cause him much worry since they very, very seldom caused anything else than annoyance and a lot of noise, but then again it was these men and women he where skeptical towards. No that feeling he reserved for the various power hungry barons and dukes that had grown wealthy and ruthless on the toils of their serfs and various underlings. They where in his mind like serpents whom had not one ounce of honesty in them, and deserved noting but the feel of the executioners axe should they stray from their place or show any sign of delusions of grandeur.
And in the weeks that had gone by more of these vipers had begun to appear, although no one had yet dared to openly defy the rule of their queen.
One in particular made his skin crawl with worry and the wish to bury his axe in the skull of that wolf in the disguise of a man whom had sworn loyalty to the queen several years ago. Even after the less that noble actions of his deceased father.
Lord Haakon Daggerhorn stood alone and looking grim, his weather worn features set as if in stone. None of the people whom normally followed at his heels had wisely stayed away from his this day, his mood was dark and his sword hand opened and closed as if it had its own will.
The lord whom as of late had come to stand in stark opposition to his monarch whom now viewed him less than kindly, he regretted allowing his mouth to run rampant and thus setting the old lioness on edge, and thus turning much of the court towards him or at least making them vary towards him.

“Curse this damned world, and curse that razor minded woman!” he said under his breath as he watched the towering form of the palace guard captain almost stalk by him. Suspicion worn clear for all too see on his battle scarred and bearded face as he looked him over, but beside from the look of suspicion noting else where to be seen on the face of the man whom carried the great two handed axe that signaled his statues as the commander of that cadre of elite warriors sworn to protect the queen into death.
Looking about to survey the lay of the land so to speak he looked at the various minor nobles and merchant lords that looked around them in a similar manner. His eyes came to rest on several of the noble women whom wore dresses that left little to the imagination for anyone interested in inspecting their form and figure.
“ Oh how I long for your company my dear Silja” he muttered to himself and took a goblet of wine from a passing servant and drank deeply of it and letting out a deep sigh of longing and perhaps frustration. He knew he would not be addressed by the queen this day or any day in the near future, not in public at least. This was a mixed blessing but he knew he had acted to early when he had lashed out at her the last time he had been summoned to the court. But it mattered not in the long run and his schemes where moving along as they should, but he knew that discovery would mean disaster and a grisly demise for him and his fellow conspirators. As he stood there and brooded and watched the line of people seeking to speak with their monarch filed forwards according to rank, wealth and statue, he became aware of someone watching him from afar, it felt as if his hair where tingling and his sword hand seeked the hilt of the longsword he carried at his side.

The powerful lord of Daggerhorn turned to see whom where watching him and much to his surprise it was a pale figure, clad in dark robes of flowing silk and a thin veil of fine gossamer across the figures feminine face. The lord walked towards this until now unseen observer, curious to find out whom this robed figure was.
“Greetings fair lady, I believe we have not before? New to the court?” he asked in a friendly tone.
“ New to the court? Clearly my lord we have been apart for far too long” the pale figure said and removed her veil, revealing a slender face and long raven black hair that flowed like water down her shoulders.
“ My dear Silja! I did not expect you back for at least a week or more, I thought you would be busy with chasing down your prey? “ he said in genuine surprise as he placed his hands around the willowy figure of the lady and held her close to him.
“ Well fate wanted it otherwise my dear, lets just say I had to ignite a bit of extra effort in the court of a baron whom had failed to serve you as instructed. That and I hate being stuck out in the rural hinterlands chasing ghosts. I set one of my best servants on the matter at hand and returned earlier than expected to your loving embrace instead.” the woman whom many in this very court whispered about when they discussed witchery or some other dark deeds that had no logical explanation.
“I see.... Well I sincerely hope you did not create too many open seats in that court. Would be a shame to have to start sorting out a quarrel between that oafs sons”
“ Do not worry my dear, I left someone far more capable in charge. And as a added measure I left behind a good number of spies and other agents in that place, a hint of fear of the unknown makes men far more willing to do their job efficiently I find” she said and smiled a thin smile before leaning in and giving her lover a deep kiss.
Returning the kiss Haakon felt some of the worries that had been resting on his shoulders slip away as his lover, and in many ways most vital supporter had returned to his side here in this den of wolves.
“ I received a messenger pigeon from Ingwar today, it seems he is soon finished with his most important preparations and he will soon be heading to the border marchers to meet with the tribal leaders of several Pict tribes, it seems our dear ally is intent on using those woad painted savages as a distraction when the time comes to shed blood.” said Haakon in a whisper to Silja as he leaned in towards her as if to kiss her.
“ Oh my, he is indeed a troublesome one for those whom he deems worthy of lighting a fire under” the thin sorceress almost giggled as she imagined the effects of such an success.

As the pair stood there in one of the alcoves and basked in the company of each other they found themselves under the gaze of someone whom looked at the pair with suspicion and more than a hint of cold hate burning in his eyes. The royal chamberlain stood on a small balcony that looked out over the throne room and studied the gathered court and took notes as he surveyed the crowds below. He had watched the baron of Daggerhorn standing alone and without any followers, and somehow it made the man seem far more menacing than he did when he was followed by the normal pack of supporters and would be friends, and then when that ghost like lover of his had come almost drifting along he was sure he would cry out in surprise, that woman was by all accounts at least one week away from the capitol or so his spies had reported.
Turning to one of his most trusted men with a frown on his face the man spoke in a cold tone.
“ See to that those two are followed at all times! But make damned sure it is done subtlety! I do not wish to loose anyone to those two down there”

I sympathise with Brage - bar room brawling loses its appeal as you get a few more miles on the clock! Nice change of pace back to the intrigue at court, too.

Thanks for the update, Trondheim!

 Necroagogo wrote:
I sympathise with Brage - bar room brawling loses its appeal as you get a few more miles on the clock! Nice change of pace back to the intrigue at court, too.

Thanks for the update, Trondheim!

Indeed! Barroom brawling must be tirresom when you already are beaten and bloody

The conspirators gather at the heart of the kingdom and the Hero's still lay many leagues from safety. I fear for the Kel kingdom and the Queen.
Will the Lord Haakon Daggerhorn and Silja bare their plot into fruition? will Brage and Ashild ever stop being at the heart of a barroom brawl? I'l have to find out next time I guess
.

Due to events in my personal life I can not find the will to keep updating this story. But if it should come back to me I will resume this. Thank you to all whom had read and posted feedback.

Yours sincerely

Trondheim

Hope all goes well for you IRL Trondheim. You always have my support, my friend.

 Necroagogo wrote:
Hope all goes well for you IRL Trondheim. You always have my support, my friend.

Many thanks friend, it helps a lot to read those words=)

I can honestly say I'm really enjoying the amount of time and effort you're putting into painting the entire scenery around BARGE! (I know it's wrong but that's what I call him now. Lolz ) The dialogue is believable to the world, which is another thing I appreciate. I've read some fantasy stories where I'm thinking of two modern day philanthropist haggling with one another.

Bit by bit I'll read the entirety of this story but for now I leave this nice little compliment.

Edit: Whenever I read his name in my head it still says 'Barge' even when I try to say 'Brage'. Hehe

Many thanks, glad to hear that you found it enjoyebal and good to read. And I am sure you are not alone in that regard

Now that I know it's not Warhammer Fantasy, this story is entirely more enjoyable without being subjected to CRITICISM! I do enjoy justifying doing nothing all day but reading.

Edit: As the story reels you in the more you read the only real criticism I can think of is that you keep referring to the main character as Brage and not Barge. Now, this is entirely forgivable but in the future, you may consider fixing those slight errors... Food for thought. Lolz

Lord baron Simon Askhaug stood and studied the milling members of the court pass him by, their gossip and slandering held little favor with the wiry chamberlain whom wived such things with a strong disdain but he had learned over the years that it was very hard indeed to change the ways of both nobles and the common folks. And one had best adapt and allow ones fellow men and women some manor of freedom when it came to what they wished to waste away their time with.
His body still felt raw and bruised after the wounds given to him by the man that had sought to slip a dagger between his ribs, but the silent sisters of the temple had tended to his wounds and mended his bloodied form with their almost mystical methods of healing and mending. Thus he had found himself on his feet a lot sooner than he expected, even if it still hurt him to a great degree. Just getting dressed or doing physical things made him wince in pain.
Thus those whom served him had found the temper of their master most gloomy as of late, but it seemed none of them had judged him as a whiny sod just yet.
He nursed the glass of wine he held in his good hand and pondered the latest events that had rocked the royal court and made several prominent members of said court raise their voices in worry about the safety of the realm. And perhaps their own hides as well, but then again perhaps some of those persons actually did care about the lands instead of worrying about the potential disruption of coin into their already deep coffers.
Shaking of these gloomy thoughts he turned to leave the assembled horde of perfumed and noble born behind and retreat to his own chambers to plan his next course of action, when a voice that made his spine tingle with unease brought him back down into the gloom.
Turning around he saw a woman whom he positively was sure where the proof that the creator gods in all their wisdom had decided to sow the seeds of malice amongst the people they had created and planted in this world. As a dark spirit the slender woman had somehow crossed the crowded throne room in a few heartbeats and now stood before him, kept company by a buxom lady who wore a dress that revealed very little to the imagination, her pale flesh and long curling dark blond hair set against a dress that looked to be made of the finest silk from Stygia and decorated with glittering gem stones. To deny the beauty of the two women that stood before him would be borderline heresy in the minds of most men. One slender as a wisp and the other blessed with curves whom would make any man drool in sheer animalistic lust.
“ Good to see that the blade of an assassin can not keep our dear chamberlain confined to bed for long. Do let me know if the wounds trouble you and I shall send my personal doctor to help you mend.” said Lady Silja as she sipped her wine and gave the chamberlain a seductive smile.
“I believe you have not meet my dear friend here, she so dearly wished to meet the man whom more or less runs the kingdom”
“Oh yes I have heard so many tings about you my lord, and I have to say you cut a fine figure.”

If the seductive pair aimed to charm the man whom stood before them had severely underestimated just how foul his mood was, even if he found them attractive and perhaps felt a twang of lust deep within his chest. But non the less the chamberlain responded with a amount of warmt and respect some may would have found surprising.
“ Ah many thanks my lady, duty and sheer stubbornness can make a man able to deal with even the worst of wounds and illness I can assure you.” he said before finishing his wine in a single gulp and handing the goblet to a passing servant.
“ Now you really do have to excuse me my fair ladies, duty calls and I can hardly say no when it dose.” the chamberlain said as he turned to leave. But as he did it seemed he remembered something and paused. Turning to the dark blond haired woman he said with a wolfish grin on his lips.
“ If you are going to try and seduce me my dear girl, I suggest you try something else than what you just did. But my compliments on your stunningly beautiful body and magnificent breasts and hair.”
And not seemingly willing to let Lady Silja go without feeling his sting he said.
“ I would never been seen dead having someone you presented to me visiting my private chambers! If that vulture of a lover you keep thinks I am that dumb he is sorely mistaken.”
This sharp rebuke from the grey haired man silenced any further advancements from the beautiful pair whom had been attempting to seduce him. The two women shot poisons looks at his back as the man limped away, shadowed by his dark skinned manservant who’s hand never strayed far from the long khopesh he carried with him at ever moment he was awake.
This man in particular had over the last few weeks gained dark infamy amongst the members of the court as he had served as the headsman of several lesser nobles whom had been found to having enriched themselves upon the gold intended for the royal treasure chest. The heads of those men and women now stood upon spikes at the main gets that lead into the city.

The pair walked in silence but the manservant could feel that there was something gnawing away at his master. Finally the Stygian could not keep silent and broke the gloomy silence that had hung between the two men.
“Forgive me master but there is something I need to say to you”
“Oh? Well speak then man, you know you do not need to ask for my permission to speak. I value you views and thoughts deeply my friend.”
“Well my master, for the last few days I have observed that you seem troubled and somewhat distant, you hardly sleep or eat. And in every free moment you sit in your library and pour over dusty old maps and books. And when you attended the court you are somewhat akin to a foul tempered drake!”
These words made the grey haired chamberlain stop and let out a deep sigh of something akin to resignation and weariness. He rubbed his red eyes with one hand before answering his servant and trusted body guard.
“ I am sorry if I have been as distant and unlike myself if you claim Seon. But the last few days has proven to be some of the more distressing ones in a long, long time. I fear a dark age lies ahead of the kingdom I love so dearly, so in an effort to perhaps help stave of that looming darkness I have been scouring the records and reports of days gone by for any scrap of information that may give us an edge against our fiendish foes.”
Pausing to pull a slender bone pipe from his belt and stuffing it with a sour smelling tobacco the man continued once he had ensured the pipe had been lit.
“ As you probably are well aware of it seems like that wolf of a man Lord Daggerhorn looks to gain considerable more power over Kels, his allies are growing in numbers. But as for now not many of the nobles are brave enough or foolish enough to flock to his banner. Besides we are so fortunate that he has made many enemies too amongst the other nobles over the years. But what worries me most is the fact that he seems to be deeply connected to that wraith Lady Silja, and by that I mean beyond sharing a bed with her.”
The dark skinned servant did not say anything but merely nodded while a worried tone set across his scarred face. His companion seemed to wait for a response and thus the Stygian forced himself to answer even though his mind was already working over the things his master had said.
“ That is indeed dire news my lord, what do you believe will be Lord Haakon next move? Or that of his witch consort? If you wish I will tend to that one myself as soon as we are done speaking. The people of Stygia dose not fear the dark arts she wields.”
“That is indeed hard to say but I would hazard a guess that at that he intends to solidify his power and begin to chip away at the hold the queen has on her kingdom. Either by direct action by his troops or by subterfuge, or perhaps he will simply wait and further plot against her majesty. And no, leave the witch alone for now. Even if your enthusiasm is applauded Seon. But you would be sorely pressed to handle that one alone or even with a dozen of your fellow Stygian warriors at your side.”
holding his tongue as they walked past an assembly of finely clad noblemen and various wealthy members of the court, whom looked at the grey haired chamberlain with neutral eyes but spared not one ounce of open dislike for his servant. Their eyes following the Stygian as if they feared he would turn on his heels and cut one of them down in cold blood.


“As I was saying, Lady Silja has grown into a far more deadly beast than the man she shares a bed with. If I where a bit younger and brazen I would dare say that she is the real factor that motivates his underlings to work themselves half to dead, someone whom has ventured so deep into the dark arts would most likely make any man push himself a bit harder if that man knew that his master had a witch ready to pounce on anyone showing signs of being found wanting.”
To this his servant merely nodded and made a subtle sign to ward of any evil that could potentially be summoned by speaking of the lady in question.
“ I shall assign my most able men to shadow their every step sire! Are there any other further things you would have me and my men do in the name of the throne?”
“ No my friend, keep tabs on the pair and take note of all whom comes to court favor with them. As for now I need to speak with the captain of the royal guard, It is my dread that some rash fool may try to do away with the queen or other members of the royal council. And beside a few more men keeping an eye on things would not harm in these dark times. “
With those words the chamberlain and his manservant left the balcony and began to make their way to the private chambers of the man, whom where in need of rest and a change of bandages to his wounds.
As the chamberlain limped to his bedchambers and the royal court where fully gathered and set under the firm gaze of the queen and her council, and the various nobles whom had gathered fell silent the massive figures of the royal guard closed the great doors that lead into the throne room and took up their positions around the chamber, their gauntleteted hands gripping the hilts of the swords and axes they carried. Clad from head to toe in thick scale mail and with their full faced helmets with a crest of black horsehair they seemed like some god sent host of warriors of old legends.
Each of the men where veterans of countless battles both on the high seas and on firm ground, and not one of them would hesitate with dying for the queen whom they saw as someone almost divine. None more so than their captain whom had stood at her side since the horrid days of the civil war all those years ago.
The queen whom sat on her throne with her crown gleaming in the light from countless torches and candles looked weary and tired, yet her face was hard as stone and her eyes burnt with the same fervor they had done for the last decades. Now as the threat of war once more loomed on the horizon and the whispers of rebellion grew she readied herself to address the court whom where gathered before her.
Rising from her throne and one hand resting on the hilt of her sword she spoke with a calm yet steely tone to her underlings.
“ Greetings to you one and all, I will not spend time going over formalities and such since one and all should know why I have called for the gathering of the court on this cold winter day, once more there are rumors of unrest, war and the looming threat of famine in our lands. But as we all know these last years have not been easy but they have not broken us! Our lands are still at peace and our fields are not ravaged by war and unrest. From the far north to the borderlands of the south and east the banner of the realm still flies! Hardship will come to haunt us and force us to stand united as one.”
Pausing to let her words reach everyone and to sweep over the crowd in front of her she continued.
“ All of you know what happened within the walls of this palace and it is the suspicion held by the royal council that there are some whom knows more than what they have been willing to tell. But that is not why you are here today, I have gathered you to make sure that every man and woman whom govern their holdings with the grace of this throne knows their duties if unrest and war should come to haunt us once more, there are a growing number of reports from the north of unrest amongst the Picts.... And I believe no one here needs to be told what would occur if all the clans of the northern tribe where to join forces and sally across the border and down towards the south.”
It was at this moment that the gathered nobles and other well of individuals began to voice their own concerns and worries in what grew to a hailstorm of voices and noise.

The attempts to call the crowd to silence fell on deaf ears and it seemed the whole affair would end in mayhem, until the din of voices where drowned out by the loud and mournful howl of a horn and the hard and sharp voices of the royal guard whom now took the matter in their own hands.
Their captain stepped forwards and bellowed like a enraged bear to his men whom responded by drawing cold steel and fixating the unruly mob with cold glares that made even the most vocal individuals fall silent and remember their manners as a sense of fear seemed to calm their tongues.
The giant of a man seemed livid with anger as his whole posture radiated hostility towards those whom had caused such unrest and it was only the calm voice of his queen that made him relax and lower the great two handed axe he held ready in his hands.
But the captain did not let go of one man whom stood at the far end of the room with his ice blue eyes, and the man very much returned the favor by glaring back at him as the captain returned to his place and allowed his queen to resume the council in a more calm manner.
“ I understand you one and all, everyone has worries and such. And you will get time to present these matters to me and the rest of the royal council and court at large, my ears are yours for as long as it takes” she said and gestured to the speaker of the court to begin to call fourth those whom had something to share with their queen and their fellow nobles.
With order restored and her minions reassured the queen prepared to hear them all out, even if it meant that she would go partiality mad from hearing their whining and moaning about taxes, responsibilities and such.

Glad to see the return of this saga! Nice setting and the characters feel just the same as before. Can't wait for the half troll to cleave into the story once more.

A cold wind howled and filled the air with flakes of snow and frost, the heavens where draped in steel grey clouds that obscured the sun and the drifting snow seemed intent on draping the world below in a thick and cold white blanket. The snow settled on the hooded cloaks worn by the two travelers whom rode along the otherwise empty road that would take them farther south and towards their finale goal witch was the capitol and largest city of the kingdom of Kels.
The lead rider brushed snow of her dark green cape and looked over her shoulder to meet the gaze of her companion whom sat motionless in his saddle and glared at the foul weather that where enveloping them in a blanket of white cold snow. She grinned and looked forwards again, her cheeks stinging from the cold wind and her hearth beating with something akin to almost childish joy over the weather her companion seemed to loath with every fiber in his whole body at this moment in time. Looking out over the snow covered field to her left she saw the figure of the great hound whom made up the third member of their odd party of travelers. The beast seemed to be following his nose as he crossed the field and seemingly not paying too much heed of the world at large, but she knew that no man or beast would remain undetected by his keen sense should they be hiding nearby.
“ By all the damned gods and my long dead ancestors! I dislike winter as much as a thief dislikes the noose” the man growled as he seemed to come alive, and shortly after the stink of sour and strong pipe tobacco filled the air as he puffed away and as his comrade looked around the fields they rode past on their way south. But in his mind he was reliving the violent and gruesome events just before they had taken to the road again, the screams of the dying and the stench of blood and ruptured guts. And the nightmare inducing sorcerer whom had come close to claiming his life and that of his comrades as well, had it not been for the capable half troll that would have had been his last day amongst the living. He also pondered just whom could command a man whom wielded such foul arts and send said person on a wild chase after him. But none of the answers he could think of gave him any sort of relief or comfort.
“ I pray we don’t meet any sort of trouble for a long time now Ashild, the run of the mill bandit and sell swords I can stand encountering but if another witch comes crawling along I will find a high cliff and jump of rather than being subjected to all manner of dark things. Come to think of it, I don’t want to meet anyone whom is not friendly and willing to give us shelter and warm food. I think two near death experiences in a span of a few weeks are far too much for my liking. When this whole sorry mess is over I intend to vanish into the wilds for a long time and not meet another human being for a long time. That is if I don’t end up as arrow riddled corps or some great big beast devours me for lunch.”
“ Don’t spend every waking moment moaning like a old woman man, its just a bit of a breeze and you would do well with a snow bath to help your body mend itself” the half troll said as she gnawed on a piece of dried and salted mutton that she had fished out of the saddlebags. Her strong teeth ripping apart the meat like a dog tearing apart a piece of cloth.
“ Oh so many thanks for the sympathies and warm feelings my lady” her companion said before he whistled to call the dog.
“ You are most welcome” she replied, either ignoring his sarcasm or maybe she had not taken it as a jab at her. He felt he never really knew what to make of her at times, she could be deep as a pool in the river or as shallow as a puddle of water at times it seemed, in his mind he put it to her being of two very different peoples whom had very few similar customs or anything really.
Looking around he saw that they where definitively reaching a part of these lands that saw little travel come winter, in the summer or spring it would have been a lot more people passing this way with goods and livestock but now the roads seemed empty and the snow and themselves seemed to be out here now. In the far distance he saw what could only be a primitive barn used by the locals to store hay and grain during the harvest or possibly shelter their cattle if need be. But expect for that lone timber building with its roof now covered in drifts of snow he saw noting else.
He did however know these tracts of land well enough to say that they where some four or five days away from any major hamlet or town. Although if need be there where several smaller settlements where sheepherders and farmers made their home far away from the wider world.
As he sat on his horse and pondered these things and several other matters he became aware of the distant cawing of birds and that to his surprise his loyal hound Dread stood as nailed to the ground, the hairs on his neck standing stiff as the spikes of a hedgehog. A low menacing growl rumbled deep within the chest of the great dog as its nose probably had picked up something that made him very unease by the looks of things. Seeing this Brage called out to Ashild whom stopped her horse and in what could be described as a move born of experience and instinct drew her axe and gripped its hilt. Brage drew a arrow from his quiver and readied his bow while looking around for any sign of trouble but seeing none he prodded his horse forwards and up the hill they where at the base of, beside him Ashild did the same while Dread stalked after them with his teeth barred and his great pink tongue hanging from his maw.
“ By the gods man I dislike this” she muttered as they where about to reach the top of the hill
“ Let us dismount and look over the hill on foot. No point making our self easier to spot. You hold the horses while I take a look” the half troll said and handed the reins to her horse to Brage whom gripped both set of reins firmly while looking around with worry clear to see on his face.
“ Take the dog with you though, he can see and smell anything long before we can” he said as she walked towards the top.
Ashild reached the top of the steep hill and bent down as she almost crawled over the top and peered down onto the plains that lay downhill from her. What she saw there made her skin crawl with worry and her hearth beat like a drum. For down on those plains where wheat was grown and sheep raised in the warmer seasons lay hundreds and hundreds of bodies riddled with arrows, hacked down by sword and axe and impaled upon lances and spears. Dead horses and their riders also dotted the fields and the previously white snow was stained by blood and gore where men had been reduced to a bloody pulp by balista bolts and other large projectiles, broken banners and standards fluttered in the cold wind as if they wanted to protest against being left in this place of death and ruin.
“ Gods have mercy” she whispered as she turned on her heels and ran back towards her companion whom waited for her with their horses.

Brage did not need to hear what she had seen to understand that something was very wrong, but he did not expect to hear just what form of bad news she had to share with him as she stopped and spat in the snow. Her whole frame seemed to be on edge and her hands gripped the axe in a vice like grip. His eyes grew wide and his skin grew a deathly pale as he digested the words he had just heard from his companion.
“ Devils curse this land and the mad men whom rules! Why just why would someone fight a battle for farmlands and woods cloaked in snow, or a few scattered hamlets?” he said
“ it looked like one part of the men down there where from the armies of Kels, the others I could not identify but I am willing to bet that they where fighting for a renegade noble or that they where Picts. Its the only two factions whom would be willing to fight a pitched battle now, and this far into the lands of Kels itself. “
“ Well as much as it makes my stomach lurch, we need to cross those fields to carry on. If we are to take a different path it will take more time and effort than I find it safe to use. Beside I doubt we would be able to make good of those paths without having to risk a whole deal of trouble, both in the form of bad weather and dangers on two and four legs. With this amount of carrion available every scavenger and predator for many, many leagues will descend towards it to feast on the dead. And I agree with you Brage, I am willing however to bet that those whom the men of Kels died fighting had sworn loyalty to some dark master, whom was willing to risk such a move now. And there are just a few people alive whom would be that mad I am willing to bet my own life on” she said and remounted her own horse and turning the horse up the hill with her companions just behind her.
“ No argument there, and if those you think of are the ones I think of things are indeed far more dire than I ever had dared to dream of for the lands of Kels. Namely Lady Silja of Ulfheim and her nefarious henchmen, long has that black clad witch been a danger to one and all. Or heavens forbid a union of lesser nobles lead by one of the thanes of the realms. That would be a catastrophe whom could undo the lands and see it torn apart in a brutal civil war.”
“I would not fear her as much as I would fear the one holding her leash” said Ashild and cast a dark look towards the heavens above and gripped one of her silver trinkets as if seeking protection from the evil she just had mentioned.
“It is best not to worry about the lone wolf whom is snarling at you, but to worry about where the larger wolf whom sent the beast after you, is a motto I live and by the all father I will die by it” said Ashild as she put the trinket away under her mail shirt.
“ Sounds like a gloomy motto I dare say, personally I would rather stick a arrow in the damned wolf and then worry about the rest of the snarling hordes.”
“ Well my short sighted friend, that is why so many end up as wolf food” she said with something akin to a smirk on her lips, despite the dark subject they had been debating.

As they found themselves at the hill they had descended down from, the stench of the battlefield greeted them and made both half troll and man grimace. Even if it was a cold day and the winds of winter where sweeping across the fields and woodlands, the sheer amount of blood spilled and broken bodies gave of a aroma few people would not have felt sicked by. But thankfully the cold wind reduced the smell and also blew away the stink of men whom had died in fear and the following unsavory stink.
As the rode out onto the field they saw that the battle line had been drawn more or less along the narrow dirt road they followed. Here lay heaps of the dead where the fighting had been the hardest and most desperate. On one side lay men clad in the unmistakable uniform of the royal armies of Kels, thick scale mail and full faced helmet and armed with a large shield and a long sword, and on the other side of the line lay their foes heaped high and torn apart by the wall of steel and muscle that had opposed them. There where Picts whom had clearly been tempted by the promise of loot, vengeance and slaves but had only found death as they had been used as cheap fodder to tire the men of Kels. While these white painted devils of the wilderness had taken their toll they had been outmatched. But the waves of men that had come after them had fared much, much better. Men clad in thick mail and armed with swords and halberds had clashed hard with the men of Kels as arrows had bit deep on both sides of the lines. Their faces where hidden behind full faced helmets as well topped with horse hair dyed red and their armor had been colored a deep jet black tone, probably to intimidate their foes and make them seem like one massive wave of steel and hate as they charged.

“ We should split up and cover more ground, see if we can find any poor soul alive whom can shed some light on this bloodbath”

Hmm, battle afoot in the realm of Kels and the hand of the foe strikes with blade in hand for the meat. Dire times ahead for kingdom and all, but will the traveling trio make it to the capital in time?

'A massive wave of steel and hate'.

That's a really nicely-honed line, Trondheim. Thanks for the updates!

Glad you liked it!

Ashild walked amongst the fallen with one hand on her axe and the other freely at her side, all around her lay those whom had fallen in the defense of their homeland and for their beloved queen. Men in their best age whose life had been ended by sword, axe or arrow fired from afar by their foes whom, by the looks of things had come at them in waves, and slowly broken apart the shield wall.
She stepped over a man whom had been impaled upon several spears and lay surrounded by a dozen slain picts and a equal number of men clad in sooth black scale mail she knew that she was stepping over the body of a warrior, whom had without doubt earned his place amongst his ancestors.“ Rest easy fair hero” she said as she bent down and closed his eyes, and wiped the blood of his face before walking on.
As she continued to walk across the battlefield she found herself doubting if anyone whom had survived this madness at all, but she pressed on.
Now she found herself amongst the heaps of enemy dead, but these devils had not been slain by the regular soldiers of Kels it seemed, as most of them looked as if they had been run trough by something or cut down where they stood by a foe whom had charged by at great speed.
This made her somewhat curious and she started to look around with a new interest, and it did not take her long to find more evidence of whom had slain these men.
For there where clear signs of horses with iron shod hooves and the unmistakable signs of a brutal and surprising cavalry attack and when she found a man whom looked as if he had been trying to run away but had been shot with a single arrow, whom had struck him in the neck and dropped him like a pole axed ox.
The arrow was made of a dark type of wood and was set with a wicked looking arrowhead, that had several small hooks set so that it would be impossible to pull the arrow out of a wound without causing further horrific injuries, its guiding feathers where a deep red and looked as if they had been colored or dyed to give them the resemblance of having been dipped in blood. Looking around she saw several more men whom had been shot at close range with similar arrows or impaled upon long slender lances or simply trampled under the iron shod hooves of the horses. Whomever it was who had come out of the woods like a thunderbolt from a clear sky must have torn across the fields and left a trail of red stained ruin in their wake.
“Well I will be damned then” she said and almost seemed to smile as she turned to find Brage and share her findings with him. But as she turned she saw that he was already making his way towards her.
“ Well? Did you find anything that could shed some light on this whole bloody mess?”
“ That I did my curious companion, that I truly did” she said and handed him the arrow she had ripped free from one of the dead men she had examined.
Brage turned a shade of sickly pale white as he examined the arrow he had been handed.
“ Oh by the gods this is not what I hoped for, I would rather have a horde of dragons descend down from the heavens than having to worry about these damned savages as well.”
“ Are the brave frontiersman that afraid of a few unwashed horse masters from the east? I thought you a brave and fearless man.” she teased as he handed her the arrow back.
“ Oh do not misunderstand me, I am not scared by the ones whom uses these arrows generally. But if the Druzina has been let loose I fear the lands of Kels are truly at risk, for they are not suited for maintain peace or convincing a rebellious lord that he should not side with the forces of sedition. No they are a blunt and blood soaked hammer best used to smash apart enemies in pitched battle, or to sow fear and terror in the lands held by the enemies of Kels. More than once have they provoked the enemies of Kels to strike rather than to hold back, granted anyone foolish enough to think that they can corner a horde of Druzina horsemen like they could with a army of regular soldiers will not live to see the sun set. Seeing how those devils seldom plays by anyone’s rules and could not care less for the ways civilized men make war.”
To this rather blunt statement his companion only nodded in response and seemed to ponder his words, their moment of sombre silence was broken however by the sounds of Dread running like a whipped hare across the field and tackling a woman whom seemingly had either played dead or just regained her will to live.
Dread sounded like a horror born from a dark and horrifying nightmare as he bayed and chased the woman whom had played dead, and thus avoided being found by his two legged masters.
His breath was heavy as the massive hound leaped like a panther and barreled into the woman and sent her tumbling and screaming for help as the beast came for her anew. But Dread was not concerned by the mewling of his prey as he snarled and readied himself to pounce upon the downed woman and sink his teeth deep into her weak flesh.
The woman whom wore cloths whom at once point would have cost a small fortune, but now whom where noting but tattered and muddied rags screamed and wailed as he tried to get away from the nightmare whom now seemed intent on devouring him.
Taking one menacing step closer to the now crawling female Dread seemed to lick his lips as he let out a deep rumbling growl, but his immediate plans for dinner where disrupted when he heard the voice of his master calling him to heel.
“ Heel boy! Heel Dread!” Brage yelled to the massive hound whom looked to make a meal of the woman whom he had sniffed out, the frontiersman run for all his worth to stop the hungry beast whom he had no doubt about would willingly devour the would be run away if he was not controlled.
Despite the hunger gnawing at its guts the beast stopped and turned to look at its fellow pack members, whom suddenly seemed to have found their second wind.
The woman seemed to let out a deep sigh of relief when the pair reached the hound and ensured her bloody demise was at least postponed for some time. But if she thought those two would offer aid without question he would be sorely wrong. Ashild looked at the woman and the remains of his once fine clothing and the soft lines in his face and felt disgust well up inside her chest and stomach.
As Brage was about to walk over and help the lady to his feet, she stopped him with one hand and fixated the survivor with her cold eyes, as she was about to protest she gave him a look that convinced the frontiersman to refrain from it and leave the matter to her.
“ You know little girl, you are far away from your paymaster now and you have no lackeys to shelter behind. So I would advise you to speak and tell us just what happened here before that dog eats you alive!”
The lady looked as she was not prepared for such a harsh and openly hostile greeting from the two she no doubtfully hoped would help him away from this bloodstained place of carnage.
“ But my lady, I am but a humble servant whom where caught up in this male storm of suffering and madness! I had no choice of remaing here once the arrows started flying seeing how my master would have my head had I left without leave.”
“ Lying to someone whom decides your fate is not wise” was all Ashild said as she lunged forwards and punched her hard and sent her reeling and gasping for air and brutally kicking her in the lower back, sending him tumbling along the ground while foul curses came from her lips and her cloths being stained by the bleeding nose and the mud.
“ And furthermore sorcerer! Your disguise dose not give your dark brotherhood much in the way of honor, for someone whom is supposed to always watch from the shadows you do a poor job.”
She said and raised her axe and pointed it at the woman while giving him a dark look.
“ Kneel and spill all you know before I part your head from your shoulders and feed your marrow to the crows and your guts to the hound!”
The woman whom had looked like a forlorn servant, whom had been cursed with a horrid fate shed her disguise and revealed her dark inner self. her eyes glowed with dark energies, and her posture straight as the dark powers that flowed in her veins began to pump and allowed her to cast aside her summoned disguise.
Where tattered and torn cloths once had been there was now a ornate and well made curiass and elegant silk could now be seen as the witch glared daggers at the three whom had dared to see trough her disguise and spoil her good looks with their savage treatment.

The eyes of the witch burned with a crimson red glare and her shaven skull seemed to glow with heat as she snarled at her would be victims and drew a long and unpleasant looking saber from her scabbard and flexed her free hand, her mouth was a grimace of pure hate and disdain and her words where like the wailing voice of a person driven into absolute madness.
“ You dare spoil my looks, to tarnish me with your filthy peasant born hands and in addition threaten me with violence! Your names will be a byword for suffering and horror when I am done with you two!” she said and lunged forwards at Ashild with her saber aimed at her guts.
“I shall harvest your marrow and draw your souls from your cooling corpses! Birds and wild beasts will devour your still warm intestines and the denizens of the darkness shall eat your mind like sweet honey!”
The half troll barely managed to avoid the blow and jumped clear of a flat handed blow that would have sent her tumbling like a rag doll. Her own blows where parried and matched seemingly without effort by the devil whom sought to kill them both. Brage whom had been standing back shot a arrow at this new and utterly horrifying foe, but the arrow simply pinged of the curiass worn by his foe, and where promptly hurled back at him so fast that he just narrowly avoided catching the arrow in his face, but he still felt the bite of the steel tipped arrow as it nicked his ear.
Seeing that his bow was of no use he drew his own sword and did not waste any time coming to the aid of Ashild whom where busy fending of the growing storm of strikes and cuts aimed at her by their foe.
The ring of steel and the hiss of weapons humming trough the hair grew and grew as the fiend kept up a murderous pace, and did not seem to be any worried by fighting two foes at once.
As Brage parried a downwards blow and gave the witch a blow from his free hand, he found himself regretting his move. For the woman gave a howl of animalistic rage and with one hand grabbed him and used him like a club to beat Ashild of her feet and knock both of their feet.
He lay there with his head spinning and much to his dismay he saw that the foul wench had tossed his sword away and now where advancing upon them.
“Ashild..... Ashild! This is not the time for laying on the ground slumbering!” he said and got to his feet, and when he looked down to see what was taking his companion so long he saw a sight that made his skin crawl.
Ashild lay there silent and unmoving, a long bloody gash along her face and blood flowing from her nose and her arm bent in a unnatural angle.
“ So this is it then” he muttered to himself as he took a steep backwards and looked around for a weapon to fend of this devil in the guise of a human whom looked like she was enjoying the scene before her. He scooped up a spear that lay beside a dead Pict and felt drops of cold sweat running down his face, and he realized just how unpleasant the next few moments would be before his foe hacked him down.
“ To the nine hells with you harlot of the abyss!” he muttered and readied himself to die on his feet at least.
Dread whom had been told to stand down and await the word of his master, found himself whimpering with worry as he saw the shaven one hurl his pack mates around like a cat playing with a mice. But as he did something seemed to awake deep within him, a strange feeling the massive hound never had felt and the sensation filled his veins with what could only be described as red hot bestial fury. His pelt stood on edge and his whimpering went from a sign of fear to a almost unnatural howl that rang out across the bloodstained fields.
Lips draw back and his yellow fangs showing the great hound whom had faced countless foes and won, either by luck or skill the hound charged the female with the shaven head and sunk its great teeth deep into her shoulder while his powerful legs that ended in blunt claws raked her exposed flesh, his prey screamed in abject agony as the jaws that could shatter the leg bone of a ox closed around her should, and the beast began to rip and shake her with all its might.
In a crazed panic almost the woman lashed at the beast with her saber and tried beating it of but the hound did not let go of its prey and even as it felt the cold steel bite his body he continued to defend his master and pack mate.
The two combatants danced in a almost macabre scene before the loss of blood and the shock of their impending doom overcame them both. It was at that moment that Dread felt his strength fail him and he let go of his prey and whimpered in pain and shock before collapsing on the ground, his long pink tongue falling out from his bloodstained maw and his eye lids growing heavy.
His foe staggered backwards and seemingly where amazed that a mere hound could have done such harm to her. Spitting blood in defiance she grabbed the blade she had cropped with her uninjured hand and staggered towards the beast, hellbent on disposing of the foul creature. But she never got that far, for just as she was about to raise her weapon a sicking sound was heard and she saw much to her amazement a spear tip jutting out of her chest and as she gave a tortured scream she was pulled down and a gleaming sword fell and took her shaven head clean of her shoulders.

Brage watched in horror as his faithful hound leaped upon the vile sorceress and proceeded to make a red ruin of her left shoulder while raking her neck with his claws. His horror grew to a almost maddening sense of loss when he saw his loyal friend let go of his prey and slump down and seemingly whimpering for his master to help him, to save him from this strange one whom had so badly injured him. What followed he later only could describe as if a red mist had sunken down and enveloped him as he tossed away all sense of self preservation and charged the witch, intent on claiming revenge for his companions. But the sorrow of loosing his hound would never truly leave him and he would morn the hound as he had been his own flesh and blood.

Noooooooooooooo!

Cue the man tears.

Good boy, Dread. Good boy.