Thread Tools
Old January 10, 2003, 20:28   #1
Lycurgus
Chieftain
 
Local Time: 14:08
Local Date: November 1, 2010
Join Date: Nov 2001
Location: Blighty
Posts: 65
The Taste Turns Bitter
This is the second part of 'The First Tste of Blood' and is set about 1400 years after that story.

“Auöun son of Gisli, grandson of Auöun, step forwards,” boomed the voice of the Keeper of Deeds.
Auöun strode forwards, his bright armour glinting in the sunlight, his sword hanging proudly at his side, his wife Yngvildr standing behind him, bursting with pride. King Óláfr Grimeye stood in all his splendid majesty before Auöun, the symbols of his majesty evident in their grandeur; the great horned helm of King Finnr I; a shining gold amulet studied with the crest of the current dynasty passed down from King Óláfr’s great grandfather King Hrólfr V; the crown made in the time of King Snorri I more than a thousand years ago; and the most potent of all the symbols and the most ancient, the dagger of King Harald I fashioned more than fourteen hundred years ago. Its great age showed little and the blade was reputed to be imbued with great magic. It was that blade, which the bards claimed had won King Harald the Great the battle against the half human, half beast Ulfr, and had created Harald the first King of the Vikings.
Auöun stood before his King and raised his fist in salute before kneeling on the ground. King Óláfr extended his hand to a servant who passed him a small golden bowl. Óláfr dipped his finger into the bowl and raised his hand for the crowd to see, a trickle of red liquid ran down his finger and into his rough palm.
“With this bears blood I grant thee the strength of the Viking peoples to lead our armies in glorious battle,” Óláfr decreed and promptly poured the bowl of blood over Auöun’s head, the blood running through Auöun’s hair and onto his face.
Óláfr said to the watching crowd, “Look to this man for leadership in battle, for he is my champion and destined by the Gods to lead us to victory over the Russians.” The crowds burst into spontaneous applause, whooping and cheering, praising Óláfr and Auöun, calling on Odin and Freyr to bless them.

Auöun sat in the great war room that evening with the King and the Clan Chiefs. The assembled men were discussing the current situation.
“We should spare them, they are weak now after all these centuries, we should show pity,” Bjorn Wolfsclaw said.
“WHAT?!” demanded Jörundr son of Snorri, “We should show those people no mercy! They once raided our lands, looted our villages and enslave dour people.”
“Just as we are doing to them,” retorted Bjorn.
“Yes but we are stronger, they do not deserve to survive if they cannot defend themselves,” Hrafn Longyears added.
“ What about letting them live amongst us?” asked Harald son of Oddr.
“You do not allow your enemies to live amongst you,” Jörundr said.
“Well we must decide something,” Auöun said calmly, “they have but one town left on the World’s Edge, they call it something else, I do not understand their strange tongue.”
“It doesn’t matter what they call it,” Óláfr said, “The fact is they have one remaining town and our forces are besieging it as we speak. The question we must ask is what is to be done with the town?”
“I say we kill them all, and the ones in our mainland cities as well!” Jörundr said.
“No we should show mercy, they could be valuable to our economy if we let them work,” Bjorn said. An argument broke out immediately, both Bjorn and Jörundr screaming at each other and everyone else to make their points of view heard.
“ENOUGH!” Óláfr shouted, banging his ham fists on the table. Everyone fell silent and looked at the King. “I have decided what we will do … a little of each,” Óláfr said.
“What do you mean sire?” Auöun asked.
“We will loot the town as is the right of the warriors there, but the population will be spared, they will remain in the town, but will be slaves. We will transport our own people there to populate the town,” Óláfr said.
One by one the assembled Clan Chiefs raised their fists in salute and agreement, confirming their approval of the King’s decision. Only Jörundr and two other did not raise their fists.
“Jörundr son of Snorri, Hrafn Longyears and Grímr of the South, why do you not vote with your King?” Óláfr asked the three men not raising their fists.
“We cannot agree with such measures in counsel when we do not agree with them in our hearts,” Jörundr said for the three dissenters.
“Very well, that is your right as Clan Chiefs, but you must also respect the decision taken here today and support your King in that decision,” Óláfr reminded them.
“Of course sire, we would have it no other way,” Jörundr replied unconvincingly.
As soon as was polite, Jörundr and his supporters left the hall, they knew in their hearts that they would not be returning here anytime soon, not in friendship anyway. As they left the palace Jörundr said to the other two, “prepare your forces, we will act soon, but remember not until I give the word!”
“Remember I get the lands of Harald son of Oddr,” Grímr of the South said sharply.
“Yes my friend, you shall both be well rewarded, we all shall, but not until the time is right,” Jörundr replied and smiled a most menacing of grins.

“ARCHERS!” the cry went up from Eyvindr son of Harald son of Oddr, he had been put in command of the siege of the Russian town the Vikings had come to call ‘Dryplace’, because of the intense deserts surrounding the town.
Eyvindr called his order once more; archers tumbled forwards with their bows armed and ready. “LET LOOSE!” Eyvindr commanded them.
A torrent of arrows assailed the high stonewalls of the town, many bouncing harmlessly off, the rest finding their way over and into the town. Screams rose up from the defenders, some fell from the walls to the harsh desert below, their bodies implanted with sharp arrowheads. The Russians desperately returned fire, their own arrows screaming across the battlefield and sending many a Viking to his grave. The Viking archers continued their bombardment; hail after hail of arrow was loosed off, providing covering fire as the two great siege engines were brought into place. Two long tunnels with dozens of men inside were sent towards the base of the town’s walls. The Russians soon noticed the oncoming tunnels, made from wood and covered in thick hides, they quickly retrained their arrows on the approaching siege engines, but with little effect. The thick hides soaked up the Russian arrows like a sponge.
“Keep firing your arrows!” Eyvindr instructed his archers. Meanwhile the tunnels had reached the walls and hatches appeared in their roofs, long ladders were pushed up through the hatches and men soon began climbing the walls. The Russians responded with arrows and slings. The first few Vikings were soon hurtling towards the sand below as arrows hit their mark. The Vikings persevered though, wave after wave stormed up the ladders, the Russians brought forward huge vats of oil, the boiling hot liquid came crashing down on the tunnels, screams of agony rang out as skin was stripped away from bone and men writhed in agony with burns and scalds.
The Russians could not keep the Vikings at bay, however, more Vikings charged down the tunnels, mighty warriors clad in chain mail and wielding swords, axes, maces, morning stars, spears, war hammers and flails. The poorly equipped Russians had mismatched bronze armour and some rare scraps of chain mail, their weapons largely being spears and short swords, with the occasional mace.
The battle raged on the walls, the Russians desperately tried to fend off the attack, hand-to-hand struggles dominated the walls, wounds let out torrents of blood, making the walls slippery and many a warrior fell to his death because of the poor footing. The Russians were slowly pressed back, despite their determined resistance, the Viking horde showed no mercy whatsoever. Arms of surrendering Russian soldiers were hacked from their bodies; the order had been given to take no prisoners.
Eyvindr gave the order, “FORWARDS, FORWARDS, TAKE THE TOWN!” and with that he swung his war hammer and charged towards the town’s heavy gates. The gates were of hard oak, imported in better days from the mainland. They soon began buckling as Eyvindr and dozens of warriors smashed at them. With the battle on the walls the Russians had no spare men to offer to hold the gates, the small contingency there found itself smashed to pieces as the Vikings burst inside the town.
The Russian Queen, Catherine took command herself, “fall back to the defence line!” he commanded her men. The Russian defenders quickly retreated, running back towards a barricade line assembled around the inner town.
The Vikings ran on, leaping at the barricade. Russian spears darted out and harpooned the oncoming Vikings, many falling to the ground gurgling and spitting blood as the life ebbed out of them. Still more charged the Russian lines, war hammers impacted skulls, sending bone and brain flying. Swords hacked and slashed, maces pulverised faces and limbs, flails smashed bodies asunder.
Eyvindr and his personal guard made for Catherine and her retinue, hacking their way through several Russian soldiers as they did so. Catherine was dressed in armour, odd for a Russian woman, but she was the Queen. Her bodyguard formed around her. Eyvindr leapt at the first guard, his war hammer smashing through the man’s shield. The Russian stabbed with his spear, cutting Eyvindr’s arm open, blood seeped out, but Eyvindr ignored it. His war hammer swung out and impacted the Russian’s face, teeth flew out and spattered the ground, blood and saliva drooled down the man’s mangled face as his jaw came away from his skull, hanging on by a few threads of flesh. Eyvindr stepped past the man and made for the next in line a tall warrior brandishing a heavy sword.
Both men stared at each other for a few seconds before the Russian made his move, lashing out with his sword. Eyvindr tried to move out of the way, but wasn’t quite quick enough, the sword plunged into his stomach and ripped his intestines apart. Eyvindr screamed in pain and rage, his anger allowing him to swing his hammer out and break the Russian’s shoulder. Eyvindr collapsed to his knees, his stomach and organs spilling out of his body and onto the ground.
Hóskuldr son of Jörundr son of Snorri charges ahead seeing Eyvindr collapse, with Eyvindr’s death it meant he Hóskuldr was now in command. “VENGEANCE FOR EYVINDR!” he cried as he held his axe aloft. The Vikings around him roared their approval, forgetting in the heat of battle that Eyvindr’s clan and Hóskuldr’s clan were enemies. The Vikings smashed their way on through the Russians. Hóskuldr took his axe and smashed it into the face of a nearby Russian; he marched his way towards Catherine’s retinue. Catherine was fighting herself, and with great skill. As Hóskuldr approached she had just gutted a young Viking who had challenged her. Hóskuldr ran towards her and plunged his axe into her back, the axe hit with such force that the shaft broke in two. Catherine staggered forwards, blood running the massive wound, she stumbled on for a few minutes, the battle going quiet as everyone turned to see her lurch through the streets, the Russians feeling their hearts shatter, the Vikings realising the day was theirs at last.
Catherine slumped against a blacksmith’s, her body crumpling to the ground, the thin gold band denoting her rank sliding from her head and onto the street. “VICTORY IS OURS!” Hóskuldr cried aloud. Many of the Russians put down their arms and raised their hands in surrender. Refr of The West Hills spoke with Hóskuldr, “My Lord, the Russians surrender, shall we begin rounding up the populace to enslave them?”
“No!” Hóskuldr answered, “take anything of value and burn this filthy hole to the ground!”
“My Lord we have direct instructions from the King that the populace is to be enslaved and all booty measured for the King’s cut …” Refr tried to say, but was cut off.
“The King did not fight here today, he is to get no share, I am in control here and my clan will have the largest share of the booty,” Hóskuldr interjected.
“I am sorry My Lord, but I must obey the King,” Refr said in return.
“Are you disobeying me?” Hóskuldr asked shocked.
“I am obeying the King,” Refr said.
Hóskuldr took up his dagger in an instant and slit Refr’s throat. The on looking Viking’s looked stunned. The air grew heavy with tension, many gripped their weapons tightly, nobody moved or what seemed like an age. Finally a warrior named Ormr shouted, “Follow the King comrades, follow the King!” and with that cry he charged at Hóskuldr, the two men were soon locked in desperate combat. All around them Vikings chose sides, and battle raged, the remaining Russian soldiers made the best of the opportunity and began fleeing the city along with any civilians who could make it as well.

“What news do you bring from the south?” Óláfr asked the messenger.
“Grave news sire, several clans led by Jörundr son of Snorri have turned out in open rebellion, they gather their forces and seek to march on loyal territories,” the messenger panted out.
“Send for Auöun,” the king called out to a servant, “and call the Clan Chiefs!”
Óláfr waved the courtiers and servants out of the room after that, he slumped back in his throne, a throne carved more four hundred years before he was born. Never in almost fourteen centuries had any Viking declared rebellion and gone against the King. Óláfr closed his eyes and wondered what King Harald would have done, how that great man would have coped with this, he also wondered if he were strong enough to defeat the rebellion and to save his people from the tyranny Jörundr would surely impose …
__________________
"I have taken far more out of drink than drink has taken out of me."
Sir Winston Spencer Churchill
Lycurgus is offline  
Old January 10, 2003, 20:34   #2
Lycurgus
Chieftain
 
Local Time: 14:08
Local Date: November 1, 2010
Join Date: Nov 2001
Location: Blighty
Posts: 65
This is where the battle of 'Dry place' takes place.
Attached Thumbnails:
Click image for larger version

Name:	screenhunter_001.jpg
Views:	113
Size:	155.2 KB
ID:	33639  
__________________
"I have taken far more out of drink than drink has taken out of me."
Sir Winston Spencer Churchill
Lycurgus is offline  
Old January 10, 2003, 21:04   #3
unscratchedfoot
Prince
 
unscratchedfoot's Avatar
 
Local Time: 23:08
Local Date: November 1, 2010
Join Date: May 2002
Location: Love me tender. Love me sweet.
Posts: 839
Another hooby-doober of a story from lycurgus.
__________________
Here is an interesting scenario to check out. The Vietnam war is cool.
unscratchedfoot is offline  
Old January 10, 2003, 21:18   #4
Lycurgus
Chieftain
 
Local Time: 14:08
Local Date: November 1, 2010
Join Date: Nov 2001
Location: Blighty
Posts: 65
I must apologise for my ignorance, but exactly what does 'hooby-doober' mean? Much obliged old chap.
__________________
"I have taken far more out of drink than drink has taken out of me."
Sir Winston Spencer Churchill
Lycurgus is offline  
Old January 11, 2003, 10:11   #5
ChrisiusMaximus
Civilization III PBEMApolyton Storywriters' GuildCivilization III Democracy GameC3CDG Blood Oath HordeC4DG The HordeC4BtSDG Rabbits of CaerbannogCiv4 SP Democracy GameCivilization IV PBEMC4WDG éirich tuireann
Emperor
 
ChrisiusMaximus's Avatar
 
Local Time: 15:08
Local Date: November 1, 2010
Join Date: Jul 2002
Location: Staffordshire England
Posts: 8,321
Another great story Lycurgus, just one question is the previous part finished or are you going to have both running concurrently.
__________________
A proud member of the "Apolyton Story Writers Guild".There are many great stories at the Civ 3 stories forum, do yourself a favour and visit the forum. Lose yourself in one of many epic tales and be inspired to write yourself, as I was.
ChrisiusMaximus is offline  
Old January 11, 2003, 11:29   #6
unscratchedfoot
Prince
 
unscratchedfoot's Avatar
 
Local Time: 23:08
Local Date: November 1, 2010
Join Date: May 2002
Location: Love me tender. Love me sweet.
Posts: 839
I might actually start a new story tomorrow. Or finish an old one. I even toyed with the idea of writing a true story about me.

maybe coming up!
__________________
Here is an interesting scenario to check out. The Vietnam war is cool.
unscratchedfoot is offline  
Old January 11, 2003, 19:11   #7
Lycurgus
Chieftain
 
Local Time: 14:08
Local Date: November 1, 2010
Join Date: Nov 2001
Location: Blighty
Posts: 65
Sorry I should have said, the last one is over. This is actually a good opportunity to give you all a little picture of what happened between the stories.
The Viking forces gradualy grew stronger and slowly pushed the Russians back over the next few centuries. However, the Russians were no pushovers and put up fierce resistance.
It wasn't until almost eight hundred years after the first story that the Russians were finally pushed back into the western part of the continent, the Russian peninsula, after Moscow had finally fallen. The Russians launched a massive counterattack the following century and succeeded in retaking Moscow for a short while.
I managed to marshall my forces and recapture the city. Again it was a slow and very difficult war to force them out of the peninsula, and it lasted right up until the fourteenth century. By that time the last remaining Russian stronghold was Vladivostok on the island to the west of the Scandinavian Continent (Scandinavia), the other Russian city on the island I had obtained through treaty negotiations.
__________________
"I have taken far more out of drink than drink has taken out of me."
Sir Winston Spencer Churchill
Lycurgus is offline  
Old January 11, 2003, 20:02   #8
unscratchedfoot
Prince
 
unscratchedfoot's Avatar
 
Local Time: 23:08
Local Date: November 1, 2010
Join Date: May 2002
Location: Love me tender. Love me sweet.
Posts: 839
__________________
Here is an interesting scenario to check out. The Vietnam war is cool.

Last edited by unscratchedfoot; January 13, 2003 at 00:21.
unscratchedfoot is offline  
Old January 11, 2003, 20:47   #9
Lycurgus
Chieftain
 
Local Time: 14:08
Local Date: November 1, 2010
Join Date: Nov 2001
Location: Blighty
Posts: 65
Not quite sure if I follow you old boy! What do you mean?
__________________
"I have taken far more out of drink than drink has taken out of me."
Sir Winston Spencer Churchill
Lycurgus is offline  
Old January 12, 2003, 13:24   #10
ChrisiusMaximus
Civilization III PBEMApolyton Storywriters' GuildCivilization III Democracy GameC3CDG Blood Oath HordeC4DG The HordeC4BtSDG Rabbits of CaerbannogCiv4 SP Democracy GameCivilization IV PBEMC4WDG éirich tuireann
Emperor
 
ChrisiusMaximus's Avatar
 
Local Time: 15:08
Local Date: November 1, 2010
Join Date: Jul 2002
Location: Staffordshire England
Posts: 8,321
Dont mind Scratch I think hes quite taken with his new puking smiley hes found somewhere and has posted it everywhere. Mind you if youd just made a pavement pizza with as much gusto as that smiley youd most likely have a bitter taste.

Thanks for answering my question so informatively and keep the goods coming

Are you going to serialise this as a collection of short stories based on this civs rise to power over the ages ?
__________________
A proud member of the "Apolyton Story Writers Guild".There are many great stories at the Civ 3 stories forum, do yourself a favour and visit the forum. Lose yourself in one of many epic tales and be inspired to write yourself, as I was.
ChrisiusMaximus is offline  
Old January 12, 2003, 15:18   #11
gooberboob
Civilization II PBEMCivilization III MultiplayerCivilization II MultiplayerCivilization III PBEMNever Ending Stories
Warlord
 
gooberboob's Avatar
 
Local Time: 08:08
Local Date: November 1, 2010
Join Date: Oct 2002
Location: Poland... I love Poland
Posts: 294
I would ask that you separate paragraphs, just because my eyes wiggle and I get lost easily if the paragraphs aren't separated

like this.
__________________
Weaseling out of things is what separates us from the animals....except the weasel -Homer
Who's up for some scroungin'? -Homer
gooberboob is offline  
Old January 13, 2003, 19:54   #12
Lycurgus
Chieftain
 
Local Time: 14:08
Local Date: November 1, 2010
Join Date: Nov 2001
Location: Blighty
Posts: 65
Auöun sat astride his massive black warhorse surveying the scene before him. The rolling hills his men occupied gave way to a lush and fertile plain, stretching as far as the eye could see. Ploughed fields stood testament to the Viking people’s settlement of this land and how they had tamed it. Wherever Auöun looked he could see tranquillity and serenity, embodied by the swaying crops and the gentle breeze. Yet all was not so idyllic, his gaze soon came to rest upon the screaming horde opposite his own men. They were a crowd of leering and obnoxious warriors led by the traitor of Dry Place as Hóskuldr had come to be known. Even as he looked he could see Hóskuldr riding up and down the front line of his men, shouting orders and inspiring a bloodlust into their hearts, he knew this because he knew that Hóskuldr was a good commander, and like any good commander knew, this was essential before a battle.

Auöun averted his gaze; in the four years since the rebellion had started he had witnessed this scene more than a dozen times already in major battles. The fighting had been vicious; clan hatreds had come to the fore and the rebellion under Jörundr son of Snorri, had grown. Thousands had already died and whole towns and cities had been looted and burned as they passed from one side’s control to the other and back again. The loyalist forces had the upper hand initially, but over the last two years they had steadily lost their footing, relinquishing village after village and town after town. Auöun knew that the King’s forces could not hold out forever, in fact they would soon be pushed back to the Home Realms themselves, the ancient lands from where the Viking people had originally come from. Auöun also knew that he could not worry about such grand schemes now, for there was a battle to be fought and that meant that he needed to concentrate fully on the here and now.

Hours passed and neither side moved, both content to stare at each other over the swaying crops. The sun climbed high into the sky and mid-day came to pass. Auöun read the position of the sun and knew that it was time to make his move, he drew his sword and raised it above his head, and he stared at the rebels for a moment then brought hiss word down. His men saw the signal and began their march, walking forwards to the edge of the hill, they quickened their pace as they reached the edge and by the time they were descending they had broken into a run. Screams rose up promising death and destruction to their opponents, curses were levelled and oaths of vengeance sworn for past misdeeds.

The rebels let out a cry and they too surged forwards, waving their weapons and beating their shields. The two armies rushed together and the collision rippled out like an explosion. Men threw themselves at each other, smashing at their opponents with hammers and blades. The battle soon turned to complete chaos; men were lashing out at the nearest foe seeking to spill blood at any cost. Spears were thrust into stomachs spilling entrails on the field beneath, heads split open under heavy blows and brain and bone fragments splashed out across the sea of men. Everywhere one looked all was carnage and blood.

Auöun was in the thick of things, swiping at the rebels from atop his horse, cutting them down like blades of grass. A fierce looking man standing tall came rushing to meet him, he brandished a huge sword waving it from side to side. Auöun reigned in his horse pulling him to a stop just in time to avoid the man’s wild charge. Auöun lunged forward with his sword and struck the man on the head, slicing off a chunk of the man’s scalp. Blood oozed out trickling down the man’s head and blinding him when it seeped into his eyes. Auöun made good use of the man’s predicament and plunged his sword into the man’s breast, piercing his heart and killing him instantly.

On the other side of the field Hóskuldr was battering his way through a contingent of young loyalists desperately trying to hold their position. The loyalists were armed with spears and had little armour; they were up against Hóskuldr and his elite bodyguard. The rebel elite were mowing them down without pause for thought, blood was everywhere and the loyalists soon found themselves outnumbered in the face of the rebel elite. Their commander a veteran warrior named Bárðr desperately tried to rouse his troops to fight and hold their positions, but in vain. The rebel elite stormed forwards, hacking and slashing at the young loyalists. The loyalists were not much more than boys, their untrained and unseasoned fighting capabilities were no match for the highly trained rebels elite who were cleaving their limbs off and splitting their heads apart.

Bárðr came face to face with Hóskuldr; the two of them circled each other for a time, sizing one another up. Finally Hóskuldr charged, his war hammer swung out and caught Bárðr’s shield, the loyalist warrior swung back with his sword and dealt a blow to Hóskuldr’s arm making him drop his weapon. Hóskuldr called out for another, one of his bodyguards throwing him a sword. Hóskuldr took up the weapon and immediately lunged at Bárðr’s face; Bárðr raised his own sword to parry and belted Hóskuldr with his shield. Hóskuldr stumbled to the ground winded; he looked up and saw Bárðr standing above him, sword raised. Thrusting upwards with his sword, he penetrated Bárðr’s chain mail and plunged the blade deep into Bárðr’s guts. Blood seeped out and ran down the blade covering Hóskuldr’s hands. Bárðr sunk to the ground; blood pouring from his mouth and stomach, a gurgled cry rose from his throat, but was drowned out by the din of battle. Within minutes the old warrior was lying face down in the dirt the boots of the rebel elite marching across his back.

Auöun saw his left flank falling away under the pressure of the rebel advance, he had thought it safe to put the young warriors there where he had thought the rebels would not concentrate their attack, but he had been mistaken. Realising his mistake Auöun shouted to his underling Skeggi to bring up the reserves, the dreaded Valkeryie, a group of female warriors renowned as the elite of the Viking forces. Skeggi signalled the order down the lines and soon chariots bearing armour clad women appeared. They were dressed in burnished metal armour, mighty beast plates and gauntlets; horned helmets adorned their heads and spears were gripped in their strong hands. They looked not at all like women, but like demons, many whispered that they were demons from the mountains of the north.

The Valkeryie thundered forwards, whooping and screaming their obscene battle cries. The rebel elite running up the hill with Hóskuldr at their head stopped in horror at the sight of the women warriors racing to meet them. The rebels stood and levelled their weapons, ready to fight, but the Valkeryie would take no prisoners, they cut through the rebels as if they weren’t there. The women’s spears quickly found organs and bones to burst and break. The elite rebel warriors scattered to the wind, fleeing for their lives, calling out about demons and evil spirits. The Valkeryie rushed onwards, the scythes on their chariots tearing men’s legs asunder; their spears bursting bodies open like bags of flour. Hóskuldr did not flee, however, he had seen Auöun on his horse and was striding across the blood stained field to meet him in combat …
__________________
"I have taken far more out of drink than drink has taken out of me."
Sir Winston Spencer Churchill
Lycurgus is offline  
Old January 13, 2003, 19:54   #13
Lycurgus
Chieftain
 
Local Time: 14:08
Local Date: November 1, 2010
Join Date: Nov 2001
Location: Blighty
Posts: 65
Auöun saw the figure coming at him, sword raised in anger and heart full of hatred. He pulled on the reigns of his horse and turned to meet Hóskuldr. Both men shouted at the other, calling on the Gods to strike the other down with the greatest of punishments. Auöun wielded his sword and struck at Hóskuldr with all his strength, the blow was met with Hóskuldr’s sword, Hóskuldr stabbed back, but again the blow was parried. This carried on for a while, both men stabbing, thrusting, slashing and lunging, but unable to penetrate the other’s defences. Hóskuldr’s frustration was growing; he suddenly dived beneath the horse and plunged his sword up into the beast’s belly, pulling his sword back he disembowelled the animal and quickly rolled from under it.

Auöun felt his mount shudder beneath him and he hastily dismounted, throwing himself to the ground as the animal dropped dead. Getting to his feet he saw Hóskuldr standing there smiling. The rage burst forth and Auöun leapt into the air at Hóskuldr, his sword coming crashing down. Hóskuldr was frozen for a moment at the shock of the attack, but he managed to raise his sword to attempt a parry. So strong was Auöun’s anger that it fuelled his blow with supernatural strength, a gift from Thor, he cleaved straight through Hóskuldr’s arm just below the elbow, tearing the bone away and sending blood spewing forth. Hóskuldr recoiled in pain and anger; he dropped to his knees feeling his life force drain away. Auöun carried the attack on, lifting his sword up high above his head preparing to deliver the killing blow. Hóskuldr fumbled in his boot for the dagger he kept hidden there, his remaining hand sought out the obsidian blade. His bloodstained fingers found the dagger and pulled it out, with a flick of his wrist he hurled the blade at Auöun’s face.

The dagger sunk into Auöun’s cheek, Auöun dropped his sword and clutched at the wound. With a great cry of pain he pulled the dagger from his and threw it to the ground. Hóskuldr had crawled backwards be this time and reached for a nearby mace, seeing Auöun regain his bearings Hóskuldr staggered back up to his feet and swung out, the mace striking Auöun’s shoulder ripping through the heavy armour and flesh and snapping through the collar bone and into the neck. Auöun already hurt by the dagger sunk to his knees feeling his body shake and shudder under the blow just delivered, his head twisted to the side as his neck lay wide open with sinews and gore dripping from it.

Hóskuldr dive don top of Auöun’s chest and brought the mace crashing down yet again, smashing Auöun’s chest apart, his ribs poked out showing inside the warrior’s body. Auöun’s grinned as his good arm was pulled back ready to smash Auöun’s head apart, but a heavy boot landed in his face sending him to the ground. Blinking through bloodied eyes from his now broken nose, he saw Skeggi pulling Auöun away from the battle. Hóskuldr let out a howl of rage, letting it fill his veins he used its power to get back up and gave pursuit. Skeggi lay Auöun’s body down and rose to meet the attack, he parried the incoming blow and punched Hóskuldr square in the face mashing his already broken nose and forcing Hóskuldr back. Skeggi grabbed his master and flung him over his shoulder. A waiting horse bore them away from the battle; Skeggi knew that it was already lost, the Valkeryie were fighting fiercely but in vain, the loyalists were feeling the field in disarray and the rebels had regrouped for a counter attack. Taking one last look at the carnage on the field Skeggi yanked the reigns and sped away to the north.

“You Majesty I have ill news from the south,” Harald son of Oddr said, “the rebels have defeated our army and Lord Auöun was mortally wounded, he has been brought back to Trondheim.”
King Óláfr Grimeye made his way to the small chamber where Auöun was resting, tended by the nurses of the Temple of Odin. Bending down beside the bed the King spoke to his friend, “Oh my old friend, how I hate to see you like this.”
“My King I would not have you gaze upon me like this, for I wish I had been killed in battle as befits a true warrior,” Auöun replied.
“My friend you were not killed, you may yet live to fight another day and surely that must be the will of the Gods,” the King told him.
“Ney, I should have died and I would be in Valhalla now!” Auöun insisted.
“You still have much work to do,” the King said.
“What do you mean?” Auöun asked.
“There is an ancient legend from the time of Einaar the Wise, long before the time of Harald the Great. It says that there will be born a man of a wise disposition who will lead men in great battles during a time of great evil, but he will be struck down. This man will then undergo a great transformation to realise his wisdom, he will travel to the north and will receive the wisdom of the Gods. Only then will the forces of evil be defeated,” the King said.
“I am not that man,” Auöun said, “how can I be?”
“But you are my friend, you are,” the King reassured him, “you are to be our saviour.”
“If it is your command then I will do my best to carry it out,” Auöun said, “what have I to do?”
“You are to travel to the north, the far north past the Dark Wood and the Night Wood, through the Great Peaks and the Forest of Shadows, to the Ever Peak itself. It is said that Einaar travelled there to die when he knew his time in this world was done. You must find his tomb and uncover the secrets it contains,” the King told him.
“What secrets does it hold?” Auöun asked.
“We do not know, all the legends tell us are that Einaar left a portion of his knowledge granted to him by Odin, so that in a time of great evil we might have a way of defeating that evil,” the King said.
Auöun closed his eyes and nodded in agreement, fatigue had overcome him for now.

A week later a small band of travellers left the palace on horseback with a sleigh in tow behind them. Auöun sat upright in the sleigh a doctor from the palace travelling with him. The horses carried Auöun’s bodyguards, handpicked men who had served with Auöun on several occasions and whom he had entrusted his life to. Auöun wondered what would befall them as they set off into the bitter cold and snow towards the icy north …
__________________
"I have taken far more out of drink than drink has taken out of me."
Sir Winston Spencer Churchill
Lycurgus is offline  
Old January 13, 2003, 19:58   #14
Lycurgus
Chieftain
 
Local Time: 14:08
Local Date: November 1, 2010
Join Date: Nov 2001
Location: Blighty
Posts: 65
Sorry for not posting for a while, but I have been rather busy with some social engagements of late.
In answer to Chrisius' question, yes I will be 'serialising' the rise of the Vikings to power. There is only really one more story to come out of the Viking game I played and until I finish playing it I can't write it lol! It shouldn't be too long I'm just getting ready to inva ... oops said too much already!
__________________
"I have taken far more out of drink than drink has taken out of me."
Sir Winston Spencer Churchill
Lycurgus is offline  
Old January 13, 2003, 20:11   #15
Lycurgus
Chieftain
 
Local Time: 14:08
Local Date: November 1, 2010
Join Date: Nov 2001
Location: Blighty
Posts: 65
This shows where the battle in the last two parts was fought and a small indication of the local rebel and loyalist held territory.
Attached Thumbnails:
Click image for larger version

Name:	battle of the golden fields.jpg
Views:	27
Size:	78.0 KB
ID:	33875  
__________________
"I have taken far more out of drink than drink has taken out of me."
Sir Winston Spencer Churchill
Lycurgus is offline  
Old January 13, 2003, 20:17   #16
SKILORD
Never Ending StoriesCivilization III MultiplayerApolyton Storywriters' Guild
King
 
SKILORD's Avatar
 
Local Time: 14:08
Local Date: November 1, 2010
Join Date: Mar 2002
Location: Don't you feel silly now?
Posts: 2,140
it's a good story. I enjoy it immensly.
SKILORD is offline  
Old January 13, 2003, 20:29   #17
ChrisiusMaximus
Civilization III PBEMApolyton Storywriters' GuildCivilization III Democracy GameC3CDG Blood Oath HordeC4DG The HordeC4BtSDG Rabbits of CaerbannogCiv4 SP Democracy GameCivilization IV PBEMC4WDG éirich tuireann
Emperor
 
ChrisiusMaximus's Avatar
 
Local Time: 15:08
Local Date: November 1, 2010
Join Date: Jul 2002
Location: Staffordshire England
Posts: 8,321
Nice!! Great stuff Lycurgus.
__________________
A proud member of the "Apolyton Story Writers Guild".There are many great stories at the Civ 3 stories forum, do yourself a favour and visit the forum. Lose yourself in one of many epic tales and be inspired to write yourself, as I was.
ChrisiusMaximus is offline  
 

Bookmarks

Thread Tools

Posting Rules
You may not post new threads
You may not post replies
You may not post attachments
You may not edit your posts

BB code is On
Smilies are On
[IMG] code is On
HTML code is On

Forum Jump


All times are GMT -4. The time now is 10:08.


Design by Vjacheslav Trushkin, color scheme by ColorizeIt!.
Powered by vBulletin® Version 3.8.2
Copyright ©2000 - 2010, Jelsoft Enterprises Ltd.
Apolyton Civilization Site | Copyright © The Apolyton Team