by Peter Hall
She looked up and saw pieces of the jetty floating on the surface above her, then a draugr’s face drifted in front of her and screamed. It wrapped its dead hands around her throat with a vice-like grip. She let go of her sword and grabbed it’s head as it choked her under the waves. She twisted its head around until it ‘popped’ and the creature went into a frenzy, its hands letting go of her neck as it writhed around. She tried to swim to the surface but the cold, dead hands of the draugr were pulling her back down. They were all in the water with her now, surrounding her.
She was running out of air and desperately trying to get away from the hideous creatures. She kicked and punched and finally broke free for a moment. She swam up to the surface and gulped a huge breath in as her head emerged from the crashing waves. She punched and kicked the undead horrors away as she swam back to the shore and finally, she made it back to the small beach. After taking a few steps, she dropped down on one knee, catching her breath. Through the haze of black smoke from the smouldering dead she could make out more of the charred draugr emerging from the water, relentlessly coming after her. No no no! Cold hands wrapped around her neck and before she knew it she was on the sand struggling to fight off another undead. It bit into her collarbone and she screamed as the blood gushed out. Her hand fumbled around for something and she felt a rock. She grabbed it and smashed the side of the creature’s head, blood spraying in her face. She struck again and the draugr slumped over.
She stood up, turned towards the shore and unslung her bow. She wiped the blood from her eyes and drew an arrow, assessing her targets. Eight draugr stumbling towards her. She aimed and her hand was shaking. Breathe. She took a deep breath and exhaled, letting her arrow slip. It whistled through the air and landed with a spray of blood in the closest draugr’s head. She drew another and fired, bullseyeing another draugr between the eyes. She drew another and fired, again and again as the charred monsters dropped one by one in the sand.
She collapsed to her knees, dropped her bow and stared out at the sea, tears running down her face in the rain. She was shaking all over. I’m still here… I’m still here. The beach was littered with charred bodies and the sky turned red as the sun began to rise, casting the town in an eerie dim light.
The servant girl dipped the cloth in the red-tinged water and drew it across Bryn’s forehead as she sat in the small metal bathing tub in the back of the tavern cellar. There were all kinds of vegetables stockpiled in here and a firepit was heating a hearty smelling stew in the centre of the room. There were a dozen or so wine barrels and behind them a small area where the tub and some linen and clothing was kept.
“Are you alright m’lady?” the girl said as she dipped the cloth back in the water and moved on to Bryn’s neck. “What were they?”
“They are draugr… undead,” Bryn said, “creatures of the night.”
“So, do you think there are more of those creatures out there?”
“I don’t know.”
The girl screwed up her face as she picked some pieces of skull out of Bryn’s hair. “Where did they come from?” she asked.
“I don’t know. Maybe a graveyard around here. It’s strange, when I was young, I was told of a great darkness that would one day consume the land. It sounds crazy I know but, perhaps this is the beginning. I don’t know. I’m sorry, I don’t mean to scare you child.”
“No! It’s fine. Please tell me miss, what happens if this great darkness covers the land? What does that mean?”
She closed her eyes. She saw the demons from her dream, sprinting through the snow covered forest, blood exploding in her face. She opened her eyes and stared off into space. “Everyone dies.” she said without emotion.
The girl stood up and fetched a towel, wrapping it around Bryn as she got out of the tub. She then walked over to a table and fetched some bandages and cloth. Bryn sat down and the girl wrapped her wounds. “Will you stay? To protect us here in the village?”
Bryn didn’t answer. She got dressed and equipped her weapons as the servant girl stood there holding her towel.
“According to the old tales, the draugr only rise at night. Once the sun sets, stay inside and lock the doors.”
Bryn headed north from Portside and followed the road along the western cliffs. She watched the sun rise and a thick mist roll in from the sea. As she made her way down the road the mist swept in and seemed to get thicker with each passing moment. The woods to the east of the road were getting denser and Bryn felt the hairs on her neck stand on end. There was a narrow path ahead leading east into the thick overgrowth. She walked over to the path and tried to see where it went. She could see that it stretched far ahead into the woods until it was too dark to make out anything. This place looked old. The trees were huge and they looked dead. Their twisting branches all intertwined with each other in a jumbled mess. What am I doing? Just keep moving. Bryn turned and continued along the road, away from the woods. The place was giving her chills.
She walked all morning until midday when she stopped to take a rest. It would be another day at least before she made it to Derry. As she sat on the side of the road inspecting her injured shoulder, four riders appeared over a hill to the north, thundering along the dirt road, black capes flapping behind them. Oh Hades! Bryn scurried behind a rock and hid as the soldiers rode past. Who are these bastards? She figured she could defeat them in combat if she wanted too but given her injuries, she thought it wiser to avoid another confrontation. She got to her feet and continued moving north.
The wind was fierce, blowing in from across the sea as she made her way along the winding road. As she made it to the other side of a large hill, she saw a wagon stopped on the road ahead. As she got closer, she saw bodies lying on the ground. She drew her sword and approached the wagon. The horses were gone and the wagon’s contents, mostly fruit and farming supplies were spilled across the road. There was a man lying on the road with his throat slit from ear to ear. He was wearing simple clothes and was not armed. Bryn looked over and saw something in the grass near the road. She gripped her sword and walked towards it. It was a woman in a blue gown. It was torn down the centre and she was covered in blood. Bryn turned away and took a deep breath. She walked back over to the rear of the wagon and looked inside. Oh no… There were two small children lying motionless amongst the fruit, covered in blood. They had been run through.
Bryn stumbled back and felt dizzy. She dropped her sword and put her hands on her knees. She threw up and wiped her mouth. Breathe. She was burning up, her mind was racing and she felt herself sobbing uncontrollably. She dropped to her knees and put her face in her hands and cried for a good long while.
After some time she wiped her eyes and opened her coin pouch. She took out a small figure of a boy, carved of bone. She stared at the little doll and a fire ignited within her. Her eyes were burning and her blood was boiling. She put the doll back in the pouch and wiped her nose on her sleeve. She gripped her knees and stared at the dirt, then got to her feet and ran back towards Portside, over the hill and down the winding road.
As the sun began to set, Bryn saw four black horses on the side of the road ahead. They were tied to trees near the winding path that led into the murky old woods. Now you're dead. Bryn unsheathed her sword and it made a ringing sound that echoed through the trees as she slowly made her way down the path. The further she ventured, the thicker and darker the woods became. The dense canopy of twisted trees kept out what little daylight was left. Bryn’s heart was racing and she had to watch her step; she couldn't see the ground anymore through the swirling mist that was filling the dark sanctuary. The shrill howl of a wolf echoed in the distance, sending shivers down her spine. A crow flew out from behind a tree and her heart jumped. She twirled her sword in her hand a few times and continued to creep up the path.
She came to a low rusty metal fence and a gate that was almost falling over. She continued through the gate, there were gravestones in the mist. Many of the graves were empty, dug up from beneat
h. There was a small, round building made of stone up ahead. Slowly, she made her way through the graveyard and crept towards the strange building. There was a light coming from a small window and a bat carved into the stone above the arched doorway leading inside.
The round room was empty apart from a wooden torch held in a steel bracket on the wall and a winding staircase leading down below the ground. She slowly descended the staircase into the dark depths below the strange building in the woods. The stone steps were wide and flat and as she ventured down, she saw a dull flickering light coming from below. Sweat trickled down her forehead and her heart was racing. Burn bright. She gripped her sword tight with both hands and kept moving.
The staircase led to a narrow, curved corridor that was lit by a torch on the wall up ahead. A rat scurried along the floor as she crept forward. Filthy vermin. She came to a small square room at the end of the corridor, with ghastly depictions of demons engraved in the walls. There was a torch lighting the room and there were doorways to the left and right. What is this infernal place? Bryn walked over to the doorway on the left and it led to another curved corridor. She slowly moved down the corridor and as she rounded the corner, a wooden door appeared on the left wall with a key in the latch. She turned the key and the door opened into what looked like a dungeon. There were five cells of steel bars on either side of the room and a torch on the wall opposite. There were three girls inside the cells, wearing white gowns. When they saw Bryn enter the room they jumped to their feet and called out to her.
“Help us please! They’re going to kill us! Please help us!”
Bryn took the key from the door and shut it behind her. “Shh! Quiet!” she said. “I’ll help you, just keep it down.”
The girls all nodded and stood at the gates to their cells. She opened the cell gates with the key and the girls gathered around.
“Thank you! Thank you miss!”
“Shhh!” Bryn said and gestured for them to follow her to the door. Bryn opened it and peered down the dark corridor and it seemed clear. “Listen, go right down this corridor until you come to the square room, then turn to the right and up the stairs.”
The girls nodded and she grabbed the first one by the arm. “Head through the graveyard and follow the path back to the road. There are horses by the road up there, take them, head south to Portside and seek shelter. Go!”
The girls nodded again and ran off to the right. Bryn turned to the left and continued slowly along the curved stone corridor. She could hear someone ahead, talking in a strange language. The corridor opened into a large round room with a high domed ceiling. There was a man wearing black robes in the centre of the room, holding a long dagger. He stood before an altar of a huge, terrifying statue of a sinister looking woman with bats wings stretching from her back. There was a girl in a white gown lying in front of the statue and the man held the dagger out above her, gripping it with both hands and aiming it straight at her heart. The soldiers were watching from the four sides of the room and in the centre of them was an evil symbol painted on the stone floor in blood, surrounded by black candles.
There was a soldier directly in front of Bryn with his back to her. She crept up behind him, wrapped her hand over his mouth and shoved her sword through the small of his back, just below his armor. The others couldn’t hear his muffled scream over the loud ramblings of the robed man at the altar. Once he stopped squirming she slid her sword out and he dropped to the ground. The other soldiers turned and saw him topple forward and reached for their swords.
They dropped one after another as Bryn fired her arrows into their skulls, each one landing with a ‘thunk’ and an explosion of red mist. She dropped the bow and unsheathed her sword, sprinting towards the robed man in the centre of the room. His eyes widened as the blade flashed and his head separated from his body. Blood sprayed from his neck and he toppled over, as the head hit the ground and rolled across the room. Bryn flicked the blood off her sword, walked over to her bow, picked it up and slung it across her back.
“Thank you!” the girl on the altar called out.
Bryn walked over and put her hand on the girl's shoulder. “Follow me, I'll get you out of here.”
Bryn noticed a small bowl on the altar. She picked it up and her eyes widened. Fame and fortune... She smiled to herself. It was full of rubies. She tipped the gems into her coin pouch and set the bowl down. “Let’s go.” she said and headed for the door. She looked down and saw the head sitting on the ground and its eyelids flicked open, revealing completely white eyes. Bryn stopped and gasped, then to her horror, the head began to speak!
“YOU! You were the one that escaped us on the mountain! You saw us eat the flesh from your mothers bones! We will find you! You will die along with your kind, there is no redemption for you. You think you are Valkyrie? Ha! You are nothing.” The head’s eyes returned to normal and Bryn stood frozen, staring at it.
The girl grabbed her arm. “Come on miss we need to leave!” she said
Bryn nodded and they ran for the door. She led the girl out of the dark temple and back to the road, then put her on the remaining horse and sent her back to Portside. She sat down on a rock and finally took a moment to catch her breath. Did that head speak to me? I'm losing my mind… She thought as she wiped the sweat from her brow. She looked up and a beautiful white horse appeared from the misty path heading into the woods. It had no saddle or reins, it was most likely wild. Bryn stood up and the horse stopped and looked at her. She slowly walked up to the magnificent animal and put her hand out. It chuffed and shook its head and she recoiled her hand. She realised the horse only had one eye. The horse stepped back and Bryn tried again. She slowly reached out and stroked it’s white, silky mane.
“Hello there boy, where did you come from?” she said. Here goes nothing. She gently climbed up on the horse and sat there, waiting for it to buck her off, but it just stood there calmly. “I shall name you Odin.” She said and stroked his neck. She gently kicked her heels and Odin took off down the road towards Portside.
When she woke up, Bryn found herself back in the rickety little bed in the room above the tavern. The sun was high in the sky outside her window. She looked to her right and the servant girl was sitting at her bedside watching her.
“You're awake! Can I get you anything m’lady?”
Bryn sat up in the bed and winced, her shoulder and neck still sore from the draugr bites. “What is your name girl?”
“My name is Alycia.” the girl said and smiled. “You saved those girls miss, the whole town’s talking about it!”
Bryn half smiled. “Yes. I suppose I did.”
“Who are you, miss?”
“I’m nobody.” Bryn said and looked out the window.
She remembered what the voice coming from the head said. Valkyrie. She had long forgotten about that. It seemed like another life. She looked back at Alycia. “When I was a young girl of no more than four years of age, I lived in a snowy mountain village in Asgard. One night my village was attacked... In the confusion I ran into the woods and became lost.” She paused for a moment then continued. “When I returned to the village it was destroyed, everyone was dead. I stayed there by myself for a long time until an old lady found me and took me in.”
Alycia sat transfixed, hanging on every word Bryn said. “Who was the lady?”
“She told me that she had lived in a castle for a hundred years, and it used to be a special place where young women would go to be trained in combat. These women would grow up to be Valkyries. She told me the Valkyries were an ancient order of warriors that protected Asgard from evil.” She paused for a moment. “She said that all of the Valkyries died in a great battle, except for her.”
Bryn looked at Alycia with a troubled look in her eyes. “She said a great evil was coming, that it would soon spread throughout the lands, the dead would rise from their graves and it would foreshadow the end of everything. She said the Valkyries were meant to stop this impending doom but now… now they are
gone, and so is she.”
Alycia was on the edge of her seat. “I saw you fight those ghouls on the beach miss… I think if anyone can stop this evil, it’s you.” she said and smiled. “I’d better get back to work.”
“Thank-you, Alycia. My name is Brynhildr, but please call me Bryn.”
Humans
‘Races of Eteria’ from ‘Eterialumen 1320th year since the cataclysm’
Humans are a somewhat advanced race that occupy the second continent exclusively. Many human kingdoms are located in the land to the west known as Siera, yet they also have spread throughout the continent from Asgard to the Southern Wilds. A great human kingdom is located in the centre of Eteria, in the arid land known as the Sand Kingdom. Humans have displayed some aptitude for combat and magicks. There are many varying sub-races of humans. Northerners hailing from the frozen lands of Asgard and Valhalla are generally tall, pale warriors skilled in combat and sailing. Southerners are fierce, tribal warriors, adept in combat and survival, living in the dense jungles of the Southern Wilds and the southern frontier lands of Siera. To the east, the humans of the Badlands are generally nomads and gypsies with dark tanned skin and black hair, skilled in Star Magick and Enchanting. Human clans of the Sand Kingdom are many and varied. Most natives of the desert have tanned skin and dark hair. Many human criminals and vagabonds also roam the Great Desert and as such, it is renowned as a dangerous place. Humans in the western land of Siera mostly have pale skin and brown or blonde hair. Many of Siera’s towns and cities are coastal and centre around farming, fishing, trading and sailing.
E.
II
Angel of Death
She had been travelling on foot for weeks, maybe months, she didn’t know exactly how long. Her rusty sword had protected her from many beasts and assassins as she had traversed the vast southern mountain ranges known as the Dim-Rakul, but the bruised and battered sixteen year old had no clothing apart from some tattered rags to protect her from the elements and no boots to protect her feet from the sharp, jagged terrain of the mountains. She did however, have an iron collar around her neck, digging into her skin constantly. Just keep moving...