[Keptah]

"Ascend as empires burn
conquistadors ov the promised land
like the sons ov Anak
They shall rise from beyond the dawn
rise as victorious trumpets call
Chimera, Geryon and Thee oh Sphinx!
accompanied by Mars
Jupiter's rays in fearless eyes unrestrained


Astareth!
bring forth the iron rain!
Hekate!
bring forth plagues on an ever failing race!


Thou shalt restore the splendor ov Sodom
personification ov Gommorah art Thou
iron-willed marching on ahead
with passion enraged threats torn asunder
fill my veins with liquid iron
armor chest and head with shining gold
that I may shake the fragile earth
may my will forever be unrestrained


great architect
charlatan ov fairy tales
Thou hast failed
since the hour b.a.s.t.a.r.d spawn
who was vomited forth
from a gasping wound ov a w.h.o.r.e
father, forgive me not
for I have sinned
now tremble and fear
and mercy have not upon me
begotten son I am not
adversary ov Thy love
the outcast ov Thy paradise
despised...


Nemesis!
as one we stand!
divide and conquer!
and we shall own this f.u.c.k.i.n' earth!"

----------------------------------------------------------------
Thorgard lay against the large willow tree in a soundless sleep. The ground beneath him was slightly wet, and the grass was cold and frozen. Behind the tree he lay his head against was a rushing river which sparkled in the dim sunlight. The waters were pure and clear as crystal. The dirt road was ahead of him which led west to the huts in Conarch Village and to the east where the wilderness rested. The skies were grey and murky and the pale colorless sun was at the highest.

Young Thorgard was only 19 winters old, his muscular body was well toned and his flesh was pale. He was dressed in leather pants and a black wool tunic. His snow boots were slightly worn, and beside his sleeping body was a large axe and a long sword.

It was a grim time for everyone in the clan. They were soon to meet blades with the Clan Swiftfeather which long held a grudge against War-Cheif Steel, Thorgard's father.

Sounds of steel clinging against the shields and the crunch of leaves beneath the many feet awoke Thorgard. Quickly the young barbarian opened his icey bright blue eyes and grasped the handles of his weapons, leaping to his feet. He grunted, looking to his left to see many warriors walking from the west path.

Leading the warriors in the very front was the cloaked father of Thorgard, War-Cheif Steel. He grunted and lifted his massive fist in the air, ceasing the warriors behind him all at the same time. War-Cheif Steel smiled at his son and spoke in a booming voice. "Thought I told ye to wait back at camp an' prepare th' herbs f'er y'er kinsman Odis, son."

Thorgard took a step foward, clearing his throat. "That be a woman's job, men fight f'er th' clan." said Thorgard with confidence in his voice. War-Cheif Steel laughed aloud with a few of his best warriors and sword brothers. "Aye, ye be a fierce youngin', lad." War-Cheif Steel said with laughter.

Thorgard frowned deeply as his father laughed, feeling embarrased and ashamed. War-Cheif Steel walked over to his son and lay a massive hand on his right shoulder. "Y'er time to fight will come, not now. In due time, son. In due time." War-Cheif Steel said with a loving smile. He patted his son on the head, then turned around to join his men and continue the walk to the eastern front where the enemies drew near.

Thorgard watched the clan warriors pass by, and began to head back to the village in the west. Slightly disapointed until surprised by a shrill voice which came from behind. Thorgard turned around quickly to be knocked on his back by an athletic figure. His weapons in his hands, his wrists held down by slender agile hands. A young woman around his age giggled as she lay atop him, her silk black hair blew in the breeze as her dark blue eyes gazed into his own eyes.

"Dawn!" Thorgard shouted at the giggling woman. Dawn was a slim Cimmerian lass who was about Thorgard's age, her hair was long and black as the night. Her dark blue eyes were always glossy and cheerful looking. A slight grin upon her face which never left, and her left eye was blocked behind the black hair. Her skin tone was pale and her lips were soft and red. She was dressed in a leather skirt, her wool tunic was worn and grey colored. Her pair shaped breasts were the perfect size, and many men sought to wed her.

"Y'er askin' f'er trouble ye know... Knockin' me down when I be off my guard, ye fight with little honor..." Thorgard muttered in a deep voice which sounded like a younger War-Cheif Steel's.

Dawn giggled with glee, and spoke in a soft tone. "For the son of War-Cheif Steel's, ye sure go down easy..."

Thorgard grunted and pushed her off him to his left. He rose, brushing himself off and picking up the weapons. Dawn leaped to her feet and folded her arms, looking at his expression with a smirk. "Why ye be upset, Thorgard? I just came over here to ask ye for some help liftin' some things... Been needing me a strong hand for help..." Dawn said in a tranquil tone.

Thorgard arched his eyebrow as he tilted his head. "Aye, suppose I can help ye... But from now on, don't be doin' that ambushin' me thing again... Aye?" Thorgard said in a tone which sounded serious. Thorgard never had a sence of humor, he was as grim as his father. Many thought that War-Cheif Steel and Thorgard Steel were very much alike in every aspect. Dawn nodded with a wide grin and extended her hand. "Aye!"

Thorgard returned a grin and accepted her hand, the two hugged and then walked slowly down the west path, talking to each other as they took their time.

"So why upset?" asked Dawn in a concerned voice as she looked up to Thorgard with a caring expression upon her sweet face. Thorgard released a deep sigh before he spoke. "Aye, my father keeps me from battles, ever since mother died from th' illness. Father been makin' me do tasks that th' woman preform n' carry... Promising me place upon battle field when I be ready... I trained since a youngin', and yet to get a place I have... It ain't fair!"

Dawn frowned slightly as she squeezed his hand. Looking away from him as she spoke with slight anger in her voice. "There be nothin' wrong with gatherin' and cookin' dinners... Nothin' wrong with my jobs! I can still knock y'er bum down on th' dirt!"

Thorgard chuckled, and stopped to turn her and place both hands on her shoulders. Her eyes looking to her lower left as she now crossed her arms. He brushed the black hair from her face and looked into her eyes. "Aye, there be nothin' wrong with y'er jobs... I'm sorry f'er being rude aye? It's just... I be strugglin' to find me place... And I know that it be upon the battle field with me father... Understand me and please forgive what I said, ye do a better job at what ye do than I, and that takes great skill which I 'ave yet to master..." Thorgard said softly. Dawn's deep blue eyes looked up at him. She smiled slightly for a moment before the smile faded. "Aye, apology accepted... It just be... Well, maybe y'er father be worried for you... aye? After y'er mother died, he may be afraid to lose you too... Just as I be afraid to lose ye..." Dawn said softly and quiet. Thorgard smiled and the two turned and continued to walk slowly down the path which led to a small bridge over the rushing river. The village lay ahead.

"Ye be a good friend to me, Dawn." Thorgard said. Dawn smiled as she looked up at him, blushing. She held his hand as they walked over the bridge and entered the village.

"I know." Dawn said with an affectionate and loving voice.

[Keptah]

It was night, the very air was cold as the Icy Mountains and the sky above was black. The only source of light was the pale specks of stars and the full moon. The clan guards remained awake and ready at the gate which led to the forest where War-Chief Steel and his warriors marched through to greet the enemies’ blades with their own. The torches around the clan fences burned brightly, and all the villagers slept soundly with confidence that they were well protected... All but one, who always saw things in a grim yet all so true way.

Thorgard lay upon his back within his hut. The embers within the middle of the hut burned dimly. Thorgard was soundless yet awake, blades nearby and ready for the worst. Like his father, he always prepared for the worst, no matter what the situation was. It is not that he lacked faith in his father, only that he could do nothing more than wait... To sleep soundlessly during a war was just not Thorgard's style.

A shadowy figure made her way into his hut, Thorgard's icy blue eyes darted to the entrance of his hut to greet Dawn's dark blue eyes. She came into view and smiled weakly, she was bundled up in thick bear furs. Underneath the fur blankets she wore nothing.

"What are ye doin' here at this here hour?" Whispered Thorgard. He sat up, leaning against the back of the hut wall. He sat upon a thick bearskin rug; Dawn made her across the small hut to sit beside him upon the rug. She laid her head against Thorgard, feeling the arm hug her body tight to him made her shiver.

"Couldn't sleep with th' thought of y'er father out there... He be th' only one ye love..?" she asked softly. Thorgard looked ahead of him across the hut.

"Nay," he replied in a low voice. "He be th' one of two people that I love..." he said. Dawn's eyes lit up as she sat up to look into Thorgard's eyes. The two stared into each others eyes.

"Who be th' second?" She asked as she blushed heavily. He chuckled softly before he replied. "In y'er thinkin' it might be ye, then y'er wrong!" he said. He laughed as he raised his arm to shield himself from Dawn's fists which attempted to land on his jaw. She quickly caught the furs as they almost slipped off from her slender form. She now blushed even more, her face red.

"Gah, I hate you..." She said in an angry tone. Thorgard smiled as he put an arm around her, hugging her close to his muscular form once more. Thorgard wore old wool pants with no shoes nor a shirt.

"But in truth, 've been meanin' to tell yeah that I really do appreciate all th' things ye been doin' f'er me... Ye saved me a great deal, many times... Like th' time that old man Maraugh came to me hut when I was a wee lad, accusing me of theft... Ye came an' took th' blame... Knowin' that if I was th' one, he'd chop me head off since father was gone... Many times, savin' me arse an' th' means alot... To me... 've grown to care f'er yeah, an'..." Thorgard stopped, catching himself. Dawn now smiling wide.

"An' what? Thorgard..." Dawn asked as she drew closer to him. He could feel her crawling over on top of him, the blanket now half way off. Before he could tell her exactly what he was feeling, an arrow shot right into the wall next to them, barely missing his head.

The clansmen screamed from outside. War-Chief Steel didn't make it, nor did the warriors, nor did the clans guards... The rival clan was already swarming the camp, and now they were killing all, women and children.

"WAIT HERE!!!" Roared Thorgard as he picked up the axe and darted outside his hut only to turn his head left to barely dodge a blade from a barbarian twice his size.

Thorgard growled as he raised the axe high and sent it down straight onto the barbarians head, cleaving the skull in two. Thorgard's face splattered with the blood, his face like a crazed animal as he joined the few old warriors and the injured clans’ guards. They were outnumbered by hundreds and hundreds more as many more rival clansmen jumped the walls. One by one, the enemies fell, but such countless numbers; it was only a matter of time before they drowned the camp in their mass army.

Thorgard and the others fought hard, bunched in a circle, Odis at Thorgard's side. The two turned to each other and nodded once before looking back into the mass of rival barbarians. With a savage roar, the enemies drew near, Thorgard held his ground while Odis was impaled with a spear. A savage rage took over, and Thorgard swung his axe in an arc motion where it cleaved several rival barbarians in half. The other clansmen already dead behind him, he continued to swing in an oppressive arc, keeping enemies away.

A barbarian from behind attempted to attack his shoulder bone, only to have an arrow shot into him from above. Thorgard looked to see the last clans guard alive. The mighty clansman of Thorgard shot several arrows at once, all meeting the throats of the rival barbarians in front of Thorgard. With a roar, Thorgard looked back to the rival barbarians, and charged them. With another powerful swing, he took off a barbarians head, and opened another's stomach.

Finally, Thorgard yelled in pain, as he was knocked face flat onto the dirt by a barbarian who bull rushed him. Quickly, Thorgard leaped to his feet, unarmed now. The enemy barbarian smirked as he attempted to send a fist to Thorgard's face. Thorgard quickly ducked and picked up a bloodied long sword, sending the blade through the enemy barbarians jaw.

The barbarian's eyes widened as the blade entered the lower jaw, breaking the bone and exiting the mouth. Blood gushed as the barbarian made a few gurgling noises before Thorgard ripped the blade out. Thorgard was now surrounded, a torch near to his left. The enemy barbarians laughed coldly as they closed in on him.

Thorgard reached for the torch and quickly grabbed it, casting it in front of him. The enemy barbarians startled, Thorgard made a dash towards his hut where he attempted to find Dawn.

When he entered the hut, he looked to the corner to see the slender and naked figure crouched and crying. "GET UP, WE'RE GETTIN' OUT OF 'ERE NOW!" Roared Thorgard as he grabbed her arm and yanked her up. He quickly grabbed his baggy shirt and shoved it into her arms. "PUT THIS ON AN' LET'S GO!" he shouted as he yanked her out of the hut with no second more. She gasped, putting the large shirt over her head. The size of the tunic was so big to her that it went to her knees, covering herself up.

The two found a horse while the enemy barbarians were scavenging the area. Little did Thorgard know, that the Clan Conarch... was far from destroyed, not realizing that the warriors still fought, somewhere in the madness of the many masses.

Thorgard hopped on the mount and lifted Dawn up. She hugged to him tightly, her breasts pressing against his back, she whimpered softly, tears trailing down her cheeks.

The mounted couple dashed madly towards the exit, many arrows passing by them. "WE BE ALMOST OUT!" Shouted Thorgard who boomed over the madness of the screams.

A gate lay ahead of them, and as Thorgard closed his eyes as he approached the gate, he made an attempt to jump over it. The mount jumped, rising over the gate, the hoofs barely reaching above the wooden spikes. The horse landed, galloping off into the distance.


When Thorgard and Dawn were far away from the war, he ceased the mount, stopping by an ice cold river. He panted aloud. Thinking back to all the faces in the clan... All of them, dead... Few surviving and his father most likely dead. "We..." He managed to say after a few minutes. "We made it..." He said as he turned around, only to see Dawn pale as a ghost.

She looked to him with a loving smile; she held one hand over the arrow shaft which had penetrated through her back. Thorgard cried out, grabbing her before she fell, getting him and Dawn off the mount. He dragged her away from the mount and the horse, away from the river. He leaned against the cold rock behind him, the village in the far distance behind them. Tears now running down his young cheeks.

"Not you too..." He managed to say softly. A weak trembling hand brushed against his cheek. She forced a weak smile upon her dying face. "I'm... S-Sorry... Didn't... want.. to.. be... troublin'... ye... while we was passin' the arrows.." She stopped, and then continued.

"I..." she said, Thorgard interrupted her. "S-save y'er strength ye fool! Don't be wastin' it on shallow words..." he said firmly as he could. Dawn smiled, then her eyes rolled up into her head and she closed her eye lids.

Thorgard cried out with agony and swollen bitterness, cursing Crom and all the gods, as he hugged her face to his chest, he spoke in a trembling yet deep voice. His very soul now swollen with spite.

"Before we be interrupted by th' fiends..." he said, he stopped himself, struggling to speak straight without bursting into tears. This was the first time he had ever cried, and the last.

"I wanted to tell ye, that I loved you... I always ‘ave… And always will… I’m.. sorry th’ I never told you until… Until now." He said.

[Keptah]

The sound of creaking wood and rows against the endless black icy waves drowned the few grunts of many sleeping Aesir. Thorgard lay in a bunk, his three swords next to him close to the hand, and he remained quiet, staring up with his emotionless blue eyes. It was another one of those nights which he would lay and think upon the good old times in his home village within Clan Conarch, of those who he had loved which were lost by warfare. A father lost in battle and one he loved taken by a stray arrow.

It was that very night that he had changed. Thorgard lay silent, lost in the flashback which happened three years ago....

'Thorgard was sitting there, holding Dawn close to him. Drenched in blood, he sobbed and cocked his head back to release a blood thirsty cry which shattered the very sanity that he once had. He lowered his head, veins upon his forehead, his face red as the cold blood upon his own hands. He let go of Dawn's lifeless pale body and rose to his feet, his blade in hand. He fixed a tight grip upon the leather wrapped handle of the sword.

The village lay within the distance now, his feet sore with the distance he had traveled. Heading through the fallen gates to Clan Conarch now, he saw many figures look his way and slowly walk towards him. Laughing, the various men taunted him as they circled Thorgard, clanging steel against the wooden shields. One of the warriors stepped towards him with his blade and shield ready. The foe wore leather pants, a chain mail shirt and a thick belt was around his waist. His hair was black and his eyes were darker. His wolf hide boots were bloodied and worn, and his blade was covered in dried blood. The shield was chipped, and his teeth were yellow. He quickly rushed towards Thorgard, his face hidden in shadow and frenzy.

Thorgard stepped back, letting the berserker lose balance and stumble forwards, with a quick swipe of the blade, Thorgard had decapitated the mad berserker. Many would slowly walk forth, and each warrior would drop dead to the blade of Thorgard. Finally, the berserkers grew tired and closed in on Thorgard, but slowly realized that their numbers were being culled to arrows from a few Aesir. It seems the tables have turned, and soon Thorgard was rescued by a man who went by the name Thulger the Crazed.

Thulger was an Aesir mercenary who led the ship Ymir's Blood. Thorgard was restrained by the Aesir men, and knocked out by the hilt of a sword. After awaking, he would speak with Thulger who explained to him that Conarch Village was not destroyed and that the Clan survived. Still, Thorgard insisted to not head back to Cimmera.'

Thorgard was interrupted in his flash back to the sound of a man yelling on top deck. Clearly it was Old Odes who was drinking again. Thorgard groaned and turned over to his left, finally closing his eyes.

The pale sun rose high into the colorless grey sky. The sea was calm and the vessel which Thorgard and the Aesir men were upon cut through the icy waters. A thick fog covered the open sea, blinding all around them like a veil. Thorgard walked slowly across the deck. He inhaled deeply through his nostrils, tasting the salt water residue which the moist fog carried.

Thorgard walked to the ship's railings, stood in an at ease position as he looked out at sea. The memories of the night he lost all he loved still haunted him. Thorgard closed his icy blue eyes; the stray blond strands of hair on his head blew in the gentle breeze. He heard boots walking from behind. He opened his eyes, but remained staring out at sea.

"Aye, tis a wonderful thing... Life at sea, ye be a true hero to us all, lad." Said a deep rasp voice. The man from behind walked up to the left of where Thorgard stood and placed a large hand upon Thorgard's shoulder. "We be headin' to th' shores of an area where a town lay. This be a large town, so t'night we will make plan together." The deep rasp voice said.

"Aye, be it so, Cap'n Thulger." Thorgard said.

Thulger was a giant of a man. Thulger was six feet six inches, and weighed a ton so many said. He wore the armor of a vanir and upon his back was an axe which had an amazing height. He was blond haired, and blue eyed, and had a scar across his wrinkled face which came down from his forehead to his nose in an arrow straight line. Long blond hair and a long braided beard, Thulger looked to be in his late fifties or so.

Thulger nodded, lifting his enormous hand and walking to his cabin. Thorgard looked down at the sea now, and sighed.

"The life of a hero... Such a life me and Thulger live." Thorgard said with slight resent in his voice.

[Keptah]

The dark orange sun had begun to rise over the horizon. The sky was grey and the fog covered the earth like a veil. The sea was grey and the waves crashed against the cliff. A road led from the cliff to a small town which was surrounded by a thick green forest.

An old man walked slowly upon the path, he wore a red scholar’s cap, and was dressed in a dark brown robe with a rope tied around his waist. He dragged his wooden sandals across the dirt path which was carved through the wilderness. Tall grass swayed in the coastal wind. The old man's face was wrinkled and his forehead contained many age lines. His pale blue eyes held great wisdom and age within, and were almost as dull as the sky above him.

The old man looked into the sky to see two seagulls flying south. He pondered and tugged on his long white goatee with a boney hand, his fingers running through the white hairs. He arched his thick white eyebrows as he looked ahead of him and continued his journey down the path.


As the old man approached the end of the path, he looked out at sea. He closed his old weary eyes, his heavy eye lids falling. He inhaled slowly and exhaled a long sigh. The air from his old thin lips visible in the cold day.


The old man thought back to the days when he was truly happy, with his loving wife who had recently fallen prey to the ocean illness. He opened his eyes to see a ship with white sails. The old man blinked once, raising his trembling boney arms to his face and rubbing his eyes with his hands. He lowered his hands and let out a dying gasp as he realized what he was seeing was very real.

He turned around as quickly as his feeble body would allow him and took off down the path as fast as he could go.

Thorgard stepped upon the wet sand with his black leather boots. His blond hair blowing in the wind as he looked to his back to see his Aesir comrades hop onto off the small wooden boat. In back of them were three other small transporting boats full of Aesir men with sharp weapons. Not too far off from the small boats full of Aesir men was the mother ship which was anchored and at a safe distance to not have to worry about archers from the shore line.

The Aesir one by one readied themselves with their weapons and while a few archers pulled the boats from the water and to a safe spot where the ocean current would not drag their vessels back out to sea.

"Thalord, yer stayin' t'watch th' boats... If ye see any enemies approach; fill them up with some nice arrows, aye!" Thorgard growled aloud. Thalord grumbled as he sat by the boats, taking a flask out from his bearskin cloak to drink.

Thorgard growled as a small hand patted him upon the back. From behind him a female voice of tranquility spoke. "Ye don't have t'worry about no 'enemies', dear Thorgard... We be only heading t'greet some old friends and do some trading..." The female Aesir said. She smirked and walked past Thorgard who crossed his muscular arms across his chest.



An hour passed, the village was barely active. The houses and huts were all shoulder to shoulder and were set in a straight line. A stone road crossed through the middle of the small village, along the sides of the stone road many market stalls were lined up. Few customers and village locals walked the streets, and within the market stalls contained tired merchants who sat back in chairs and watched the village children run around in the nearly empty streets.


A think black bearded merchant watched the two young kids run past his stall, nearly bumping over a sign. He growled, nearly getting up but pausing as his eyes looked past the kids and down the path to meet several eyes of Aesir men, all wielding swords and shields. The locals who chatted among themselves now silent as they looked toward the armed barbarians who walked into town from the thick fog. The grim faces of the Aesir men were all shrouded in darkness and behind long blond hair.

The town was silent, only the slight breeze which passed through the trees could be heard. The Aesir passed the now empty stalls, all the Aesir men looked around with a look of a hungry wolf upon their faces as they walked down the street. A shout from the back of the Aesir cried out and all men stopped and stood straight. Silence fell upon the village once more.

"Once more, we perform the work of a hero..." Thorgard whispered to himself with a grim tone.

[Keptah]

From the mass of blond haired blue eyed barbarians came a tall and very muscular giant of a man, Thulger. He scratched his bushy beard; the hairs were fading blond with age streaks. He wore a dark grey chain mail shirt with black silk pants and black leather boots. Upon his shoulders was a bearskin cape. He wore a Vanir helmet and in his right hand was a massive 5 foot axe which could cleave two men in half with one swipe.

Thulger approached the town mayor who walked towards Thulger, behind the mayor two guards with readied blades. Thulger stopped and looked down upon the town mayor with a grin. "Ye be th' man of this 'ere grand village?" asked Thulger as he extended his free arm to point to his left.

The mayor gulped, quivering. "Y-Yes sir... I'm afraid I-I'm going t-To have to ask you to leave." asked the mayor in a voice which trembled before the great giant barbarian who now laughed and turned to his men.

"YEAH 'ERE THAT, BOYS? HE WANTS US T'LEAVE ALREADY!!" roared Thulger. Turning around quickly, Thulger lifted and swung his large axe with both hands. Slicing right through all three, cleaving them all in half. From the back of the crowd roared another barbarian, and then all of the Aesir began to pillage all around them.

Fire, arrows, and steel now filled the village along with the sounds of screams from the local villagers who were either barraged with a volley of arrows or burned to death in their homes. One by one, the locals fell, door by door, Aesir began to flood through to kill the home's owner and claim all inside. Thorgard lifted his blade, and charged into the madness with a battle cry.

Within a span of minutes, the small town was within flames, blood soaked the very streets, the bodies only piled. Thorgard was covered in specs of blood, his eyes wild and darting like a mad wild cat. From the corner of his eye, he saw an old man cowering in fear before his presence.

"D-D-DON'T KILL M-ME!!" The old one cried as he busted into tears. In his arms he held the body of his dead wife. He closed his eyes as Thorgard's blade pierced through his neck and decapitated him. From the gaping hole in his neck bloods shot out like a fountain. His head rolled to the end of the room while his body swayed a bit before falling backwards. Thorgard grinned with amusement at the sight of this fatality.

He turned to run outside, where he met with the rest of the Aesir who all begun to walk up a hill towards the temple, within the small Mitran church housed refugees with faith in Mitra. The guards stood outside the small temple, steel drawn, ready to defend the temple. The entrance to the temple was locked. Thorgard watched as his Aesir comrades slaughtered the guardsmen.

"We smoke them out!!" Cried Thorgard as he lifted his blade in the air. The Aesir men shouted and all began to chant their war cry. Many Aesir ran back somewhere within the village only to return minutes later with torches. Thorgard grabbed a torch and drew close to the temple windows. With a fist, he shattered the glass and tossed a torch in. The other Aesir did the same to each window. It didn't take long until pounding was heard at the temple door as it busted open and the local survivors flooded out coughing. Few were burned alive, and the Aesir howled with victory. The survivors had their wrists slapped in iron and had were now destined a life in slavery.

Thorgard grinned as he and the Aesir men made their way out from the burning ruins of the small town and back to the harbor. As they walked, the Aesir spoke together while the shackled prisoners sniffled and cried softly while guided by other Aesir men who poked swords at them to keep them moving.

"Ye did a fine job back there, Thorgard!" Bellowed Thulger as he patted Thorgard's back with a massive hand. Thorgard snickered and responded with a grunt. "Ye did pretty well yerself, comrade."

Thulger laughed, and then walked on towards the front of the crowd with the Aesir who guided a wagon full of goods and plunder. Thorgard looked back at the prisoners who cried softly and frowned. "Aye... Th' life of a hero... Th' life me an' Thulger live..." Thorgard whispered to himself.

[Keptah]

It was pitch black underneath the deck above. The constant sound of the creaking vessel at sea, and the rocking motion had stricken sickness to all but the crazed captain aboard the stygian slave ship.

Thorgard awoke with a gasp, his entire body covered in a thick sweat. He emitted a groan of discomfort as he shifted to the side with the strength of an injured ox. His wrists and ankles were shackled in stygian slave iron, and he wore merely a rag which barely covered his rear and groin. He lay upon a wood bunk, his chains clinging as he tried to move what little he could of his weight.

Blind in the darkness and weakened with the months of slave hood, he gave up and let a weak breath pass his dry pale lips. As he lay upon his back now, he thought back to the days with his Aesir comrades. The wealth, freedom, bloodshed, all but a mere memory of the glory in his days as a man. Now he was nothing more than a slave for hard labor.

He closed his heavy eye lids and fell into a deep slumber. Silence…

“Awaken this one and lead him to the pink salt mines!” Shouted a voice. Thorgard awoke to be linked to several other slaves and led in chains off the vessel and upon dry land. As he walked into the scorching sun light he shielded his eyes, squinting hard to see the land ahead of him.

He stood upon the docks of the Khopshef Province; in the distance were large rocky hills and the vast stygian yellow sands which covered the majority of the ground. With a grunt, a stygian slaver shoved Thorgard to keep him moving. Ahead were many men of the south armed with blades and bows, all glaring at the passing slaves or just shouting at each other in a tongue which Thorgard was unfamiliar to.

Thorgard was forced to work long days and nights within the musty caves where he and many other enslaved men would haul bags of pink salt from the mine and to the vessel. Upon the vessel many slave women were forced to ‘entertain’ the masters. With each day he served the slavers, he grew to realize how sick man kind made him. Growing less and less human, and becoming more of an animal.

It wasn’t hard to lose sanity within the horrible conditions, and many before him had either died from dehydration or had been put down due to losing their mind. Thorgard had lasted for quite a while, but even he began to realize he was slowly slipping away. Growing hateful and distrustful, he slowly rotted into something foul. Another day would pass, and another moon would rise, repetition would be apart of Thorgard’s daily life as a slave.

That very night he thought of the days when he was a free man… His old Aesir comrades and Thulger…


“Aye, tis ‘bout time I be showin’ ye a place I go t’get me tattoos… I think yer man ‘nough t’get one yerself, aye.” Thulger said to his companion; Thorgard.

Thulger made his way through the alley way in Zingara, Thorgard followed close behind Thulger, his icy blue eyes darting to the roof tops above and to each body that lay in the gutter. The two arrived at a small door at the end of the alley way, the stone paved ground beneath them was wet. Thulger knocked on the door, and a man opened the creaking wooden door ajar and squinted at the two….

Thorgard’s flashback ended and he let out a sigh.




It was morning now, the slaves moaned and groaned within the damp warm and very moist room below deck. The Stygian men above deck laughed and spoke to each other in feint voices. The vessel was headed towards the western coasts. Thorgard lay upon the wooden bunk, and for the first time in a long while, he thought about the loved one he had lost in his very arms… The one who’s life was taken from a stray arrow. Thorgard growled, and released a roar, with all his might he struggled in a hope to break through the chains which bound him.

Slavers quickly flooded below deck, Thorgard went mad, fighting to break free, but his attempt was hopeless. The slave master grinned as he looked at Thorgard before he sent a fist to Thorgard’s temple.

Thorgard blacked out…

A day passed, and finally, the ship arrived to the harbor of the infamous City of Tortage, The Red Hand Guard and many slavers spoke to each other, Thorgard and the many slaves who did not die from work sat up on top deck. Each one looked around; Thorgard noticed he was the only Cimmerian among the other slaves. Since being captured after wandering drunk from his Aesir vessel which was bound to a hidden island near the coast of Zingara, many slaves had died. Only few slaves remained, and it seemed that the slave master was attempting to bargain a deal with the Red Hand.

Perhaps to sell the remaining sickly slaves for some coin. A man dressed in a black robe came aboard the top deck, escorted by a slaver and also his Red Hand bodyguard. “So this is all that is left of the fifty slaves I had ordered?” asked the robed man who looked at the few slaves who either were busy coughing or half dead. The robed man growled, and turned to the slaver. “Razoul, you know as well as I do that this cannot satisfy my mistress.” Said the robed man who now walked off deck. “No deal!” The robed man shouted as he walked off followed by the begging slaver who attempted to strike a deal and the bodyguard who growled at the slaver with an annoyed tone.

Moments later the slavers returned on deck like dogs with their tails between their legs. The slave master looked up at the slaves and growled with a look of anger on his dark skinned face. He shouted something in another language and all the slavers took Thorgard and the other slave men back below deck to be chained back to the bunks. When they left, they did not close the door, letting Thorgard look around him in the light. Thorgard grunted, shifting to his side.

A strange noise caught Thorgard’s attention, and he looked down at his foot to see a key which one of the slavers had left inside his cuff. Thorgard quickly grabbed the key and placed it in his mouth; the returning slaver came down below and looked at the slaves one last time.


Finally a shout above deck called the slavers attention. The slaver grumbled then slammed the door shut. Thorgard pondered in the darkness. How could such a mistake take place?

Thorgard did not take the time to ponder any further; he quickly took the key from his mouth and prodded the metal key against his bracers in an attempt to find a keyhole in the dark.