865AD

  Storm clouds roared overhead, lightning striking the whale-road: the sparks from a giant anvil in Asgard. Bjorn’s longship rocked violently, waves splashing over the top rail as brave, soaked drengir fought against the tide, pulling their oars with all of their might.

  The tarp in the middle of the hull rattled, blowing violently and threatening to be ripped away from the ship. Others wrestled with ropes, desperately furling the sail as they fought against the elements. They knew that in this kind of weather the sail would rip if left unfurled and none of them wanted to be stranded in the middle of the vast ocean. There was no land in sight but they had to be close, their voyage had started weeks ago. Which added a further danger, crashing against cliffs hidden by the storm.

  “Bjorn,” Sigurd yelled as he desperately yanked his rope. “I have lost sight of the other ships!”

  “They will make it,” Bjorn shouted back, sea spray chilling his numbed hands. He looked around for them but could barely see a foot past the edge of the hull. Wherever they were, they were on their own. “Right now, we can only focus on saving ourselves and fighting this storm.”

  “Has Njord forsaken us?” Sigurd asked, his face as white as the sea-froth. “Was our offering not grand enough?”

  “Quit your whining brodir,” Bjorn replied, flashing him a forced smile. “This is no different than that time on Tovi’s ship when we were kids. Remember how the wind howled, how the rain battered our tiny little hands and faces? We survived that. We will survive this. If you need an example, just look at Ullr.” Bjorn glanced towards the Ulfhedinn who manned the rudder seemingly unfazed. “She is not worried. Why should you, a son of the great Ragnar Lodbrok, have anything to fear?”

  Sigurd nodded a single time, though his one normal eye harboured a fear which Bjorn knew all too well. He had seen it many times before, usually in the shield wall.

  They did not talk much after that, each drengr focusing on the task at hand as they battled against Njord’s fury. Then, as the battered and bruised crew of sea-soaked warriors watched, the storm ceased. At least for a moment.

  “Is… is it over?” Sigurd asked, panting and red-faced.

  “For now,” Bjorn replied, sitting back on his haunches, thoroughly exhausted.

  “Thank the gods,” Sigurd said, laughing a little. “A few more hits from those waves and we would have found ourselves sleeping with Jormungandr.”

  “You still might,” Hrafn squawked. “Look over there.”

  Bjorn followed the raven’s gaze to see that barely a few strides away, the storm was still fiercely ravaging the whale-road. Huge twisting grey masses surrounded them on all sides; water being caught up in their pull causing rain to shoot out at devastating speeds. He had never seen anything like it.

  “What is that?” He asked and the others followed his gaze, mouths gaping as they saw.

  Atop the towering, pulsating cyclones were two small beads of light, like jewels from plundered treasure. Bjorn squinted, fighting to make out what they were, then the world froze around him.

  “Bjorn,” Ullr said quietly, sharing the frozen world of the Nornir with him as they read through the runes which floated in the air. “This is not good.”

  Sea Serpent

  Long have the skalds sung of brave seamen battling J?rmungandr’s children as they traverse the whale-road, but few among the living have seen these galkn with their own eyes.

  The sea serpent is a form of elemental galkn which can control both wind and water. These fearsome creatures have slender bodies which they wrap in a cyclone of water and wind to both protect themselves and wreak havoc.

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  “This is madness,” Ullr continued, her jaw quivering. Though her eyes remained firm and to the task.

  “Is this what father had to overcome to reach this island of Saxons?” Bjorn wondered aloud, then turned to Ullr to see that she had become as frozen as the rest of his crew. More runes appeared, and he turned to read them.

  New Quest:

  Fight Or Flight

  Your ship is besieged by sea serpents; will you fight or flee?

  Objectives:

  Kill sea serpents 0/6

  OR

  Flee

  Rewards:

  To be confirmed, depending on your actions

  Usually, there would be no question in Bjorn’s mind as to which option he should take. However, this was no land battle and his crew were not blessed by Skuld as he was. If there was a chance to flee, he knew he should take it, should attempt to save their lives. Yet something inside him yearend to fight, to conquer, to consume. Would he gain power if he chose to slay the beasts? What would it cost him? His brodir? His oathsworn? His life?

  There was no way to know, but as he looked out at the sea serpents surrounding his ship he saw no route for retreat.

  I want that power, he thought. But I have to protect my drengir, my brodir, and Ullr most of all. If she dies, I will lose my chance to kill Aella. I need Harald’s army and she is part of our faux deal.

  Midgard un-froze as Bjorn’s swirling thoughts continued. His drengir were all staring at the sea serpents, Sigurd’s jaw was almost touching the deck. They were terrified.

  “We have to fight,” Bjorn said loudly. “It is the only way.”

  “Have you gone moon-touched, brodir?” Sigurd asked and a few of the drengir agreed. “How can we fight water? What blade will cause harm to… to that?” He asked, pointing a trembling finger at the closest sea serpent which seemed to be moving towards them, jewelled eyes glimmering with blood lust.

  “Would you rather give up?” Bjorn asked harshly. “Become draugr? Because that is what will happen if we let our fear consume us.”

  “I do not want to surrender, brodir.” Sigurd replied icily. “But I do not want to throw my life away on an unwinnable fight either. Do you think me a fifl?”

  “No,” Bjorn said, eyes looking between each of his terrified drengir. “I think you a coward.”

  A gasp went out around the crew, wide eyes looking between Sigurd and Bjorn, clearly searching for the right answer, who to follow. Sigurd clenched his fists, all fear seeming to leak out of his face as he strode towards Bjorn, jaw set.

  This is better, Bjorn thought. Use your rage, brodir. Let it swallow your fear.

  “Say that again,” he spat.

  Bjorn leaned in until his lips were almost brushing Sigurd’s cheek. He smelled the sweat, the sea-soak, the fear.

  “Coward,” he said.

  Sigurd swung his fist before Bjorn had finished the word, his knuckles slapping into Bjorn’s cheek with a right hook. He felt one of his teeth crack but pushed his face into the force and after the round of gasps had abated, he had not been moved an inch. Gritting his teeth through the pain, he looked at his brodir, whose fist was still touching his cheek.

  “Is that all you have got?”

  “That is enough!” Ullr said, teeth clenched as she pushed her way between them, shaking her head. “We do not have time for this tik-fight between siblings. The enemy is bearing down upon us as we speak!”

  “Then tell us,” Sigurd said, hate and malice in his eyes. “What path do we take? Do we fight and die, or do we flee and die? It seems to me that our choices are skitr either way.”

  “I…” Ullr stuttered, looking to Bjorn for answers which he did not have.

  “Why not do both?” Hrafn squawked and Bjorn looked to him. “Your quest says that to fight you have to slay all six, but there is another option. Slay one and flee through the path you will create. Best of both worlds, no?”

  “It seems that you possess all the clever,” Bjorn muttered to the bird before turning to his drengir. “This is the plan…”

  ***

  “Forwards!” Bjorn yelled, axe in his hand and pointing towards the torrent of swirling, living water as they rushed towards it.

  Men and women pulled ferociously on the oar bench as Bjorn held onto the ship’s figurehead. He was ready, staring straight ahead at his foe.

  “This is madness, brodir!” Sigurd yelled from behind him, pulling his seal skin cloak tight over his head as wind fought to yank it from his grip, ferocious waves drenching him as he held onto the top rail.

  “What choice do we have?” Bjorn shouted back. “Ullr, are you ready?” He asked turning to his faithful oathsworn who nodded, stalwart in her conviction. “Then change, do it now!”

  At his command Ullr began to transform. Her eyes became yellow, wolf-like, her fingernails elongated and her muscles grew, slender and athletic. Grabbing her by the scruff of the neck, as the longship moved closer towards the sea serpent and certain death, he activated Berserkr’s Wrath and felt his muscles grow, tighten, as power coursed through him.

  Ten seconds, he thought. It had better be enough.

  Then he was launching her through the air towards the head of the sea serpent. She twirled as she flew, twin seaxes in her fists. Then she was chopping and cutting and the sea serpent let out a ferocious roar.

  Lashing out with its tail, the living cyclone bashed at the ship which threatened to capsize as Bjorn hung onto the figurehead, wrapping his free arm around it tightly. Then he was crouching down, preparing his muscles for the leap of his life.

  “Fukka! I’m coming with you,” Sigurd yelled and Bjorn felt his brodir’s arms wrapping around his upper chest, but it was too late.

  He jumped.