“BLOOD AND THUNDER!”

Erika slammed her hands over her ears as the war cry half deafened her, exploding out of the shadows Gunhilda ran forwards screaming and cursing waving a huge two-handed war axe over her head.

“What the Hel!” Shouted Erika scrambling backwards.

“Oh yeah she gets like this.” Said Reidar pulling his paired Rumblers out of their holsters.

“Why didn’t you tell me that!” Shouted Kara Hammerfall as she followed behind Gunhilda’s charge, despite the shock Kara didn’t hesitate for a second, throwing herself into combat with her shield raised and hammer flying.

“I thought you knew?”

“I’VE KNOWN YOU TWO LESS THAN A MONTH.”

“Oh right.”

Thunder rumbled and echoed around the barrow as Reidar fired his weapons, blooms of smoke and ash filling the air as a one-man volley cut down a half dozen wargs. Despite the shock for the expeditioners Erika did notice that the wargs seemed even more surprised by Gunhilda’s rabid charge, most fled, a few tried hurling stone spears or sling shots but Gunhilda ignored them all her axe sweeping back and forth like a scythe in a wheat field cutting down monster after monster in a blur of rage and blood.

Erika trailed away as something inside her, something primal and ancient screamed. Erika may be a city girl but she wasn't stupid and other people were, she had faced off with thieves and muggers a few times in her early life before she earned her cloak and she’d learned not to doubt her instincts. Without a second’s hesitation Erika grabbed Reidar and rolled them both forwards onto the cold and ancient stone, a heartbeat later the wall Erika had stood before shattered, something small and fast slamming into it with such power that a wave of force ripped the tiles upwards in a cubit distance and flung them around like a storm.

“WHAT WAS THAT!”

In the dark cramped camp, a tent lifted upwards and was flung backwards as another unseen something slammed into the hide, Reidar scrambled upright again and looked around wildly, Kara had sunk into a defensive stance and was sliding back towards them, only Gunhilda was ignoring the explosions her axe still flying back and forth. Erika craned her neck and looked at the hole in the wall, it was… a lump of rock? In the rock. It was older looking, blackened and smoothed by age but… Erika turned as fast as she could and stared at the altar of Loki in the centre of the room, below the blooming respite mushrooms there were holes left in the coffin they had carved in offering to their god king, in the holes something moved.

“DRAGUR!” Shouted Erika and rolled into a ball on the floor, sure enough a second later another shard of torn off tomb was flung at her with the unimaginable speed of the living dead. The warrior who’s coffin the wargs had desecrated was still trapped inside there, his soul long gone to wherever it went but his body filling with raw odium tainted by Bane until he awoke as a being of undying hatred.

This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

The battle became even more chaotic, wargs ran screaming and roaring, dozens died by the seconds as Gunhilda mindlessly swung locked in her rage but Reidar cursed behind Erika and she felt him channel the beginning of a divine art, his Rumblers blurred as he reloaded them with thorsblut and metal shells then they roared again and again an echo of golden light overlapping him as his shots hit with perfect accuracy mowing down warg after warg… but where was Kara?

“Lady Erika!”

Erika’s eyes widened, blood splashed across her, Kara was lying on the floor in front of her… right arm a twisted mess… and a shard of stone embedded in her shield. The draugr had aimed for her and Kara had blocked it, a piece of stone thrown faster than thunderarm.

“Kara!”

Erika dove for the jarl and dragged her back into the lee of one of the heavier coffins and looked her over. Erika wasn't actually sure HOW you checked someone for injuries except from reading adventure nobles but she knew it generally involved running your hands over them, Erika wasn't ready for that quite yet but she could see Kara was breathing and conscious so that was probably good enough.

Somewhere in the distance Gunhilda began was cursing and screaming, behind them Reidar was tackled over by a charging warg. Somewhere far above Erika knew the expedition was still waiting, how long would they wait when they didn’t come back?

“All be damned, damned to Helheim and the mists! Crawling maggots and carrion eaters! I will destroy you all!” Said a wet rumbling voice, consumptive and sputtering but in perfect Cyril it seemed to echo… because of the stone!

“Tough talk from a dead git.” Shouted Erika back using the vulgar form of street Cyril. There was a long pause then Erika looked up again at the chaotic room, the last few wargs seemed to be dying but the explosions had stopped. She was right! The draugr could talk… that wasn't very good actually, the ones that held enough mind to speak were the dangerous ones but they were in deep trouble anyway.

“You speak my tongue little breather? After all my long years waiting, I thought it would have died out.”

Erika tried to speak but her tongue was dry, she swallowed and panted the whole battle had taken only a minute or two but the speed and fury had drained her more than thirty hours riding.

“I learned it from my mother and teacher a powerful vitki of the seventh tier.” Erika replied, it was never a bad idea to put the other guy in awe of you… hard to do with undead of course but sometimes possible.

It didn’t seem to be now however. “A vitki? You are a vitki? Ha…. I felt no spells little breather… only foolish vitki Drown their wells… those with you fight well at least, are you soldiers?”

Erika looked at Kara who had managed to scramble onto her knees, her arm still clearly broken and her shield split, she couldn’t understand what was being said of course but she seemed to be following Erika’s lead, for some reason that Erika couldn’t figure out. Even Reidar had stopped firing although Gunhilda could b e heard in the distance cackling as she chased down wargs.

“We are delvers,” said Erika truthfully. “We are somewhat like a small piece of fruit pie? No damn what’s the word… twisted string? Stuffed tube? Ah militia, that’s probably the closest word.”

In the blasphemous altar Erika could see a gleam of light, a wet dead eye had appeared at a crack and it stared at her. Long dark hands stretched out from the gaps and casually caught an injured warg crushing its head like a ripe fruit, despite that the eye never left Erika.

“Lady Erika… I trust you but… but what are you saying to it?” Kara managed to whisper more loudly than Erika spoke but after a moment Erika realised it didn’t matter, undead had sharp senses, something to do with the body’s own demands no longer getting in the way.

“It insulted me, I insulted it, it was surprised I could understand and it asked if we were soldiers, I said we’re kind of a militia and its thinking about that for some reason.”