The End of a Pagan Clan

[Hammer4_ 166]

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YPjuf5FPC_Y&list=PLcqCZU3wGCu7GZU4NlJlUVLh13Hk5kPmF&index=5

 

- 14^th of First Seed, 1523 -

 

 

The sun was high over the ocean, the faint rhythm of waves beating against the shore playing throughout the Crusader-state of Luciensport.  A light breeze was set over the coast, the leaves and shrubs swaying peacefully in the wind.  Approaching from a distance, the pounding of heavy feet could be heard on the gravel, loudening as three figures came forth on the gate.  These men were not of Heartland descent, nor did they have faith placed in the Creator.  They were the last of the Völìks, the end of a clan of pagan Northerners.  As they entered the palisade surrounding the camp, the rasp of their swords could be heard ringing across the grounds.  They clashed their weapons, stirring a noise scaring away any crows or birds nested in the neighboring trees.  Their words were those of heathens, crying out phrases such as “Saventon awaits us, in his halls we shall feast” or “Our gods beckon, prove us the strength of yours.”  They challenged the Crusaders whom were present in the camp at the time, wielding weapons of much lesser make than the gleaming steel blades and Warhammers carried by the men of the most holy order.  The fighting was quick, as the untrained Northmen fell quickly, blood and bone staining the stone grounds on which they fell.  In a short span of mere minutes, the Völìk line had ended and the rooms in which the heretic gods reside gained a number of new guests.  The clan was thus destroyed, with all direct descendants now deceased or missing.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Edited September 5, 2015 by Hammer4_

[Narthok 10416]

Silent Knight kneels over the corpses of the dead removing a vial of syrupy liquid and a small brush from a belt, he begins to paint a lorraine's cross over the hearts of the fallen pausing for a quick prayer over each.

[lawnmowerman 3040]

"Good fowkin' riddance."

 

Gondryk utters, gobbing a few droplets of dribble on the fresh soil by the carcasses, drifting off, crows hovering above his head.

[Hammer4_ 166]

Roric laughs cheerfully in the eternal mead hall, passing a seventh ale to his son, Aultyr.

[grnappa 1230]

Erik nods to himself in satisfaction as he finished staking the heads outside the town "About time the worms were slain..."

[James 425]

Moved to the Archive. It shall be sorted into the appropriate category shortly.