by Peter Hall
The hunters were almost upon them, Bryn could hear them shouting and screaming. She held the torch to the rope bridge and set it alight. She tossed the torch over the edge and sprinted for the other side. Kesi had made it across when she was about half way and the warriors started to cross, running through the flames of the burning bridge. She had almost made it across when the ropes snapped. As the bridge fell, so went the entire hunting party falling to their deaths. Bryn was holding on to the remaining part of the burning bridge just below the platform. She looked up and saw Kesi. He reached down and grabbed her arm, pulling her up to safety.
There were stairs winding around this tree and they began to make their way down. When they got about halfway they heard heavy footsteps coming up the stairs ahead of them. It was the giant warrior with the stone sword. He shouted and swung his massive blade. Bryn pushed her friend back and dropped as it swung past, narrowly missing her head. She jumped up and stabbed the giant in his gut. He reeled back as blood sprayed from the wound and he slammed the massive sword down. Bryn rolled out of the way just as it landed. The sword got stuck in the wooden step and Bryn put her foot on the giant's hand. She launched herself up in the air and swung her sword, slicing his skull in half with a brutal blow. His body toppled forward as she landed on her feet and gestured for Kesi to follow. They made it to the ground and then Kesi grabbed Bryn’s shoulder and gestured for her to this time follow him. They ran into the jungle and she followed him for hours until they came to a small village hidden deep in the wilds.
There was a tall fence around the perimeter and the round huts inside the village were made of sticks and sat upon foot high stilts, with stairs leading up to an open face. Bryn could see people inside going about their business. As they approached the village a group of fierce looking warriors stopped them and started speaking in their native language. Kesi spoke with them and after they had finished, they took Bryn’s weapons which she reluctantly handed over and then they let them through. Kesi then led Bryn to an empty hut and gestured for her to go inside. She went inside the hut and Kesi said something to her that she didn't understand. He grabbed her shoulder and smiled, then left Bryn alone in the hut. She sat down and leaned back against the wall, closing her eyes. Right now she was just feeling grateful to be alive. She could see out into the village and Kesi was outside talking to a gathering crowd. She assumed he was relating the details of their escape.
An old man then approached the crowd and the villagers moved out of his way. He was short and bald, his body was covered in tribal tattoos, he was wearing a necklace of red feathers and he was holding a large staff with feathers hanging from the top. He listened to Kesi’s account of what he had seen and then looked over in Bryn’s direction. Then he turned and walked towards Bryn’s hut with Kesi and two other warriors. Bryn stood as they climbed the stairs to the hut. The group stopped and Kesi came over and held her shoulder, smiling as if to reassure her. The old man started talking to Bryn but she didn’t have a clue what he was saying. He inspected the iron collar around her neck for a moment. He closed his eyes and held his hand out and the collar snapped, falling to the floor of the hut. Bryn smiled and nodded. “Thank you.”
The group gathered in the hut broke into cheers and laughter. They brought Bryn food and clothing, then they set up a bed for her in the hut and returned her sword. They had a huge bonfire in the centre of the village that night and there was much eating, drinking and dancing. Bryn watched the festivities for a while before returning to her hut and getting some rest. It appeared she had been accepted into the tribe and she decided to stay for now.
The following day, the old man came to Bryn’s hut and led her outside. They walked over to a group of women preparing food. The old man pointed towards the woman and looked at Bryn, gesturing for her to join them. Bryn looked over and saw a group of warriors about to go out on a hunt. She looked at the old man and pointed at the warriors. The old man looked surprised and then laughed and nodded, gesturing for her to join the hunting party. They gave her a bow and quiver of arrows and she headed out into the jungle. Bryn lived in the remote village for the next four years of her life and faced many trials. She became a master hunter and slayed many beasts of the southern jungles. She fought as a warrior alongside her tribe in many battles and received a tattoo on her body for every kill she made, as a warning to others. She became a legend among her people and they called her “Waikana Nessa”, which loosely translated to ‘Angel of Death’ in the common tongue.
One night while sitting in her hut, Bryn took out the small figure of the boy she always kept with her and stared at it in the moonlight, running her fingers along the grooves in the bone that shaped the simple face carved into it. She felt ready. She felt as though whatever evil may still lurk in Asgard, she could face it. It was time to return home. The next morning she braided her hair in traditional Asgardian style, as her mother had shown her how to do many years ago. She informed the elders of the tribe and her friend Kesi that she was leaving. They were greatly saddened upon hearing the news but none dared try to stop her. She packed a small pouch full of supplies, slung her bow across her back and headed west, on a long journey through the wilds towards the sea. She had no intention of ever returning to the desert, so she would make her way to Asgard by journeying along the western coast, through the land of Siera.
Draugr
‘Monsters of Eteria’ from ‘Eterialumen 1320th year since the cataclysm’
Draugr are the living dead. These wretched creatures have lost their Hugr and their Hamr is possessed by evil spirits. Draugr are usually found lurking in tombs and foul places and are brought about through the forbidden art of Necromancy. Draugr are clumsy and stupid, but they are also vicious and unrelenting. They are especially dangerous in groups or hordes.
E.
III
Nightmares
The waves looked like vast blue mountains with snowy peaks as they rolled in from the horizon. Salt water sprayed up from the side of the boat, drenching Bryn as she flicked her rod forward and released the line, casting the hook far out into the rough seas. She wound back the line a little and looked over at the old man, who was sitting at the other end of the rickety little fishing boat as it rocked and rolled. He shook his head in disapproval and continued working on the rod in his lap, untangling the line from her previous attempt.
“Now you are casting it too far!” he said.
“You said to cast it out past the break!”
“I said past the break, not halfway to Valenor!”
Bryn scowled at the old fisherman and wound her line in.
“Just listen to what I tell you for once, woman!” he said as he threw the rod down, giving up on the tangled mess.
“I'm trying!’ Bryn said as her line became tangled in a ball.
“Oh my gods you are killing me!” the old man said, snatching the rod out of her hands.
Bryn looked up into the cloudy heavens and screamed, her voice echoing across the bay. The old man spent the remainder of the afternoon untangling line and attempting to teach Bryn the fundamentals of fishing, to no avail. By nightfall they’d had enough of each other's company, so they decided to call it a day and head back to shore. As the boat dipped and swayed across the water, a loud crack of thunder roared across the sky and light rain began to fall.
“You hear that?” The old man shouted over the rain. “You’ve angered the Sea Gods!”
Bryn scowled at him and wrapped herself in her black cape as the rain poured down and the wind began to pick up. She could see lights in the windows of the town as they headed back towards the beach. Then she heard something in the wind… bells. It was the town bell ringing. What the Hades? More draugr? As the old man steered the fishing boat to the beach, a few yards up from the collapsed jetty, Bryn took a ruby from her pouch and handed it to him.
“Get yourself a decent boat you old bastard.” she said and jumped off into the shallow waters lapping at the shore.
The
old man’s eyes lit up. “Bless you! Bless you lass!”
He began to laugh loudly as he stood on his boat in the pouring rain. Bryn jogged across the sand and up the muddy hill back to town. She walked through the northern gate and saw something on the road ahead. As she walked closer she realised it was a body. She looked around, scanning the area in the darkness, as the bells rang out and the thunder rolled across the bay. A flash of lightning lit up the streets and the body lit up. It was a woman, one of the villagers. She ran up to the woman lying face-down in the mud, crouched down and grabbed her shoulder. When Bryn turned the woman over onto her back, her heart skipped a beat. The woman's eyes were wide, her neck had been torn out and her stomach was ripped open, her innards spilling out as she rolled over. Bryn shot to her feet and reeled back in horror. Then she heard a blood curdling scream.
She drew her sword and sprinted towards the tavern. She slammed into the thick wooden door and burst into the room, heart pounding out of her chest, eyes wide. She got behind her sword, gripping it with both hands and braced herself, scanning the room. Everyone was dead. It looked like most of the villagers were here. Blood was splattered across the walls. The floor was a sea of red. There were at least thirty dead bodies slumped around the room. There were body parts lying on the floor. Arms, legs, heads. Bryn was breathing heavily, she couldn’t move. Then she heard a noise coming from the cellar. She slowly moved forward through the carnage towards the cellar door, trying not to slip in the blood. When she got to the cellar door she could hear a sickening slurping and chewing sound coming from inside the room. She pushed the cellar door open and stepped inside. The cauldron in the centre of the room was tipped on its side and the stew that was cooking had spilled all over the floor. Bryn slowly took a few steps and then she heard the noise again, coming from behind the wine barrels. There was a fireplace in the cellar but it was dark in the back of the room where the barrels were kept. Then she saw something, a shape in the darkness. She saw gleaming eyes looking at her and then with incredible speed it darted around the barrels and lunged. She only had a moment to react but she managed to raise her sword and the creature dived into the blade, slicing open it's shoulder and knocking Bryn backwards. She stumbled and fell, then she heard a hideous screech and looked up.
It was one of the white demons from her nightmares. It was naked, muscular but lean with unnaturally long arms and legs. It had large hands and feet with black claws, pale white skin, bald head and pointy ears. It’s eyes were black, it had slits for a nose and its mouth was huge and full of sharp, jagged teeth. There was blood all over its body and pouring out of its mouth. The creature stood there smiling at Bryn. Her heart was racing, she was frozen with fear. The demon screeched again and dived on her. Bryn lifted her sword as it came down on her and drove it into the creature’s stomach. She got to her feet holding on to the sword with the skewered demon and kicked it back as she pulled her sword out.
Black blood sprayed across the room as it slammed into the cauldron with a 'clang’. The demon got on all fours and growled. It pounced just as Bryn dived to her right. It slammed into the wall and screamed, as Bryn swung her sword. The demon's head exploded with the force of the strike and the body slumped to the ground. Bryn’s sword clattered as it fell to the floor. She stared at the demon for a moment, her body shaking, then she gasped and whispered “Alycia.” She ran over to the back of the room and looked behind the barrels. Alycia was there. Her torso had been ripped open and her innards were missing. Bryn dropped to Alycia’s side.
“No! Alycia, I'm sorry.” she whispered as tears rolled down her face.
She stumbled out of the tavern and looked up and down the village main road. There was a building on fire the horses were making noise in the stables. The stable gates were open and there was a brown horse standing in the middle of the road as the rain poured down. It was bleeding from a long gash across its chest. The horse got spooked when it saw Bryn and ran off into the night. She walked inside the stables and straight ahead was one of the demons, crouched over a white horse, eating its innards. It hadn’t noticed Bryn approaching. She gripped her sword and sprinted towards it. The demon looked up and screeched as Bryn slammed the blade down, smashing its head to pulp. The headless body flopped over onto the horse and Bryn breathed a sigh of releif. It wasn’t Odin. She looked around but the rest of the horses were gone. She jogged out onto the road and whistled. Then from the nearby trees, Odin came trotting out.
“There you are!” Bryn said and ran over to the beautiful white stallion.
He was bleeding from four long scratches on the side of his belly and a gash in his nose. He chuffed and nodded and Bryn stroked his mane. “Glad to see you are alright my friend.” she said and looked around, scanning the darkness. The wind started to pick up and there was a rumbling sound in the air. Bryn listened and she could hear something in the distance... it was getting louder. It was a cacophony of screeching and squealing and the noise became deafaning. It was pitch dark and Bryn could see nothing through the sheets of pouring rain. She led the horse into the stables and crouched behind the wooden wall. Bryn looked up and in the darkness she could see shadows, giant silhouettes flapping in the sky. They were bats... giant bats.
As the swarm of monsters flew overhead, the noise was tumultuous. Bryn winced and had to cover her ears. She looked outside and one of the creatures swooped past the stables, carrying the horse she had seen earlier in its claws. The small lantern hanging in the stables was flickering in the wind as Bryn and Odin waited for the flying terrors to pass. The screeching and flapping noises started to fade and after a good while it seemed that the creatures had gone.
Bryn walked the horse out of the stable, grabbing a fine leather saddle and a set of reins and stirrups from a nearby hay bail. She equipped Odin with his new gear, tightened the straps on the saddle and mounted her horse. She slowly trotted through the village but saw no signs of life. When she got to the northern gate she turned and glanced at the small village, some of the buildings were smouldering in the rain. She turned Odin north and kicked her heels, dashing off along the coastal road through the darkness.
Odin was setting a cracking pace along the winding road and Bryn’s mind was racing just as fast. The rain had eased to a light shower and the wind was cold on her rain-soaked face as she made her way north. She kept seeing Alycia lying dead in the cellar and the horrible smile the demon gave her before it attacked. She was on high alert scanning the edges of the road as she thundered along, a black wraith blazing through the darkness, leaving a cloud of dust in her wake.
After about an hour she slowed down as a farm appeared over a rise. There was black smoke billowing from the main house. There were two dead bodies on the road leading up to the house. She kicked her heels and continued north until the road wound past a town, this one a little larger than Portside. It was Derry… and it was the same story. Villagers laying in the streets, gutted and decapitated. Smouldering buildings and dead horses with their guts spilled out. The entire town had been decimated. There were no ships in the port. She slowly made her way through the rain and smoke. Crows feasting on dead bodies flapped their wings and squawked as she passed. She kicked her heels and continued along the coastal road. There goes my ride home… she thought.
Not long after she left Derry, she saw a commotion going on up ahead on the road. As she got closer she saw two knights in heavy steel armor, fighting off a group of the white demons. She sped up and unsheathed her sword. One of the knights was struggling, a demon had grabbed his sword and they were fighting over it. Bryn swooped past and hacked the demon in the head, smashing its skull in an explosion of black blood. The knight looked up and caught a glimpse of the Northerner as she flew by, before another demon lunged at him. He swung his mighty silver broadsword and cleaved it in half, a mist of the dark demon blood spraying in the air.
Bryn pulled up and dismounted as the knights fought off the remaining demons. One of the knights charged at a demon and ran it throug
h, but his sword got stuck for a moment and the demon grabbed the blade, gurgling. Another demon jumped on his back and bit into his neck, blood spraying out like a geyser. Bryn ran in and blasted both of the demons in the head, killing them instantly. She saw the other knight on the ground with a demon on top of him, snapping its jaws. She ran up and swung her sword, hitting the demon in the side of the head, slicing it clean in half. Blood sprayed out of its skull into the knight's face as he threw the body to the side. He wiped the demon blood from his eyes and saw Bryn standing above him, holding her hand out. He took her hand and she helped him to his feet. They ran over to the other knight still lying in the dirt. There was a deep gash in his neck and a large pool of blood around him. He was dead. The knight dropped to one knee, put a hand on his fallen comrade’s chest and bowed his head. He slowly got to his feet and turned to Bryn.
“Thank-you... for saving my life. You shouldn’t have put yourself in such danger, but I thank-you. My name is Durandal.” he said and held out his hand.
He looked around thirty years of age or so, wearing heavy steel armor with a red tunic, which had a wolf's head embroidered on the front. He wore a red cape with wolf fur around the shoulders, his hair was tangled, dark and shoulder length and he was sporting a large black moustache. Bryn shook his hand.
“My name is Brynhildr and I can handle myself in combat just fine. It seemed to me you were the one struggling, yes? Look, I’m sorry about your friend.” she said.
