Vikings Charge


Ship wrecked against the pearly shore of the foreign island. Trees were dancing, full of wind that shook their voluminous crowns, absent life, right there on the stone ridge where our flags flapper proudly. The chieftain placed his vendel helm on, blew his nose and then he grabbed his round shield and the longsword. Battle ready men awaited the mark for disembarkment and so was I. Hand was itching out of crave for blood and my thoughts have settled on the valuable loot, hidden among the heretics in funny dresses.

– Lo there are the warriors of thunder, sons of Odin, and butchers of death. – chieftain yelled pointing the sword at the sandy beach, – Victory is ours, and Valhala shall wait for a moment longer! To the glorious red rain! – he shouted further as we jumped over the sides and took the shieldwall.

Wood bashed wood and metal clinked metal, forming defencive formation. My eye was set on target, rustling in high grass that overlapped the rocky plain. Pointy helmets were sparkling, taken by the rays of Sun. My axe shall enter that polished object and the blood will be spilled in the meadow. Oh, what a glorious day to make battle?

– Advance my sons, advance my heros, advance to the victory! Write your history, here and now! – chieftain boomed from behind, then arrows flew over us, blackening the sky.

One foot in front of the other we moved forward catching crossbow bolts, arrows and stones. A comrade laughed while moving sturdily at the hill. Their lines thickened with soldiers, mad from the failure of their countermeasures. We paused, letting our second line to kneel and take a pure nordic elixir. It had mushrooms that vapour in the night, grain yeast and poisonous herbs, taken from the shaman’s bag. Berserkers grew violent, mad, appsolutely mindless in lust for skirmish and all for the glory of of our Jarl Sverrisson the One-eye.

Their fire has stopped in wonder. Look on their ugly faces gave me a feeling of pride, strength and desire to bash their heads. Grip over the axe handle tensed, when our commander shouted and we broke our formation. Soon after, javelins followed the charge of drugged berserkers, then our sharpshooters went against their longbowmen. Our first line drank the elixir, then charged their flanks. Oh, what a glorious day to make battle?



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2 thoughts on “Vikings Charge

  1. Pingback: The conquest of the Grim fields | Dronstad

  2. Pingback: Critique needed | Dronstad

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