Round 4
The people of the three Kingdoms were quite pleased with themselves for finding the Jotun that had troubled them for so long and that they had been able to kill him so easily. There was much laughter amongst them as they dispersed and went back to their camps.
They passed a little boy who looked intently at a hird man. They wondered a little but thought naught of it. It was not until the boy spoke that he got their attention. This was not the voice of a boy, and not of man either. “I have been looking for you”. This was a powerful but an alien voice, and nearly a little scary. The serf man turned and gave his best smile. “Who is this I hear, a boy with an Æsir voice?”
The boy transformed and before the astonished people a tall and powerful man with long blond hair appeared. His eyes were in a blue complexion but had a hue of light that gave this Nordic face an alien look. The serf man continued: “What do you want with me, a humble serf man doing his duty to my liege; the Jarl of Stord.” The Æsir replied: “Hold your forked tongue, spawn of Jotun. This will be your day of reckoning.” The serf man backed a little away. “You obviously have the wrong man, because I do not have a slightest idea of what you speak.” The Æsir followed in close step. “You have deceived these humans long enough with you lies and tales. No more!! Today you die!”
Panic could clearly be seen in the serf man’s eyes. “I tell you noble Æsir, I have not an idea of what you accuse me of, but I assure you that I am not the one you are looking for.”
The bystanders all felt for the poor guy as a fight between them would be an uneven match. The serf man begged for his life when the Æsir drew his big sword. A couple of the bystanders shouted “Not a fair fight” to the Æsir as he closed in on the serf man who now sat on his knees and begged for his life. The big Æsir lifted his sword and with an inhuman speed slashed downwards to cleave the serf man in half. The sword hit the ground where the serf man moments before had cowered. It made a deep furrow in the ground. The serf man stood a couple of meters to one side and laughed. “I see you are as slow as ever Heimdall.” The serf man transformed and became a large man with long raven black hair, dark mischievous eyes and a crooked smile. Without speaking another word Heimdall hurled himself at the now revealed Loki with his sword in front of him as a spear. The spectators had never seen anyone move that quickly but Loki seemed to dodge this attack easily. “You have to do better than that Heimdall, You will not be able to beat me using those snail tactics.” Loki pulled a large sword out of the air and took a battle stand. “You will lose Heimdall, I am better than you at this. Heck, I fought Jotun when you were still sucking breast.”
“Silence!!” Heimdall was obviously agitated, but Loki continued his taunt: “I don’t know how you will be able to pull this of; your shoe lace is untied by the way.” Heimdall put some power behind the next slash but Loki parried. The sound of Æsir steel against steel was deafening and could be heard all the way to Utgard. The Jotun there knew the sound of Æsir steel and wondered which Gods had a go at each other this time. People started to hide where they could because this was a fight between titans and their mere presence could kill any of them. One of those blows of steel against steel could silence the heart of bystanders.
Heimdall was still attacking and Loki easily parried. The moves and parries were just a blur to those who dared watch.
The fight raged back and forth with the two Gods destroying much of the nature around. Large furrows in the ground and in the rock side after sword slashes missing their target marred the area. Trees cut in half and rocks crushed littered the area.
Suddenly Loki got in a slash that would have cut a tree down. Heimdall staggered but recovered instantly. His rage was now pure fury and his attack if possible more ferocious. The fight raged on and Heidall got past Loki’s guard and stabbed him in the shoulder. The Norse God of Tricks and mischief roared in pain. His eyes turned red with rage and he attacked Heimdall with new vigour. People turned away as they believed that the world would tear apart. The ground moved and the sounds were overbearing.
Suddenly there was calm over the area.
People looked up from behind hiding places and saw the God of tricks and mischief lying dead, pierced through the heart by Heimdall’s sword. Heimdall was standing over him and staggered. He had serious wounds all over his body. A mortal man would have died with those wounds. He asked some of the stronger men to help him to a tent where he could rest. The weight of him was nearly too much for the four powerful men that supported him to a tent. He lay down closed his eyes and slept like a babe.
The retinues went back to their tents and stayed there the reminder of the night. They never saw the shadow picking up the body of Loki and carried it home to Asgard.
Heimdall was not sleeping well, the wounds were too painful. Maybe that saved his life as a shadow appeared in his tent. A golden set with eyes lit the dark and a fanged smile appeared. “So, here lies the victor of today’s fight. Those sword blows were heard all the way to Utgard. Now it is your turn to return to Asgard foe.” The Jotun with a dagger in hand tried to stab Heimdall trough the heart. But Heimdall still had some power left and kicked the Jotun in the groin. The Jotun went down and Heimdall jumped on top of the Jotun closing his hands around its neck.
The Jotun was quite strong and brushed Heimdall aside. Some of the men that had helped Heimdall to the tent had heard the commotion and was running to his aid. The Jotun smiled at Heimdall. “Until next time Æsir.” and disappeared into the night.
Redleg was having trouble sleeping as well. He was not so certain that they had in fact killed a Jotun earlier and that battle between Gods in their midst had him thinking that this was not just about a single Jotun on a killing spree. There must be some bigger picture here.
As if the Jotun were able to read his mind it answered from the dark corner in his tent. “If you only knew what this is all about you would really worry.” Before Redleg could answer, a dagger flew from the dark and pierced his throat. As the life blood ran from the wound, a woman’s voice could be heard: “Welcome highness, you have been expected.”
Tally:
Murdered (5):
Destroyer of Hope
Sir Moody
Dutch_guy
ByzantineKnight
Redleg
Killed in Holmgang (3):
HughTower (Redleg)
Orb (Lord Motep)
Reenk Roink (Seamus)
Executed (1):
Discovery1
Still Alive (23):
Alexander the Pretty Good
AndresTheCunning
Caius Flaminius
CountArach
Crazed Rabbit
GeneralHankerchief
Husar
Ichigo
JimBob
Kagemusha
Kralizec (Fenring)
KukriKhan
Lord Motep of Kendermore
Omanes Alexandrapolites the Idiot
pevergreen
Proletariat
sapi
Sasaki Kojiro
Seamus Fermanagh
Sir Boo
Stig
Tom Hagen
Warluster
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Re: The Midgard Saga
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