In the Norse mythos, Valhall is basically the equivalent to the Klingon's Sto-Vo-Kor. So when I heard this song, I knew that this would be my first song fic. So here it is, a song fic for all the Klingon warriors that fell in battle and journeyed to Sto-Vo-Kor. And yes I know that Klingon's don't use shields, or at least I've never seen one, but the Norse did and it's in the song. And please, no flames.

Disclaimer: The song the lyrics are from is called Valhall Awaits Me, and are the property of Amon Amarth. Klingons and all of their religious and cultural items belong to Paramount. I own this idea and that is all.

Blood gushes from the wound
The cut is wide and deep
And before I turn around
He falls to his knees

I remove my d'k tahg from its new sheath that is the body of a now dead warrior and replace it in its scabbard. I draw my bat'leth from where it hangs on my back and rush into the maelstrom that is the battlefield. The sound of d'k tahgs, mek'leths, and bat'leths striking rings through the air.

A clear song rings in the blade
When steel meets hardened steel.
I hear the sound of wood that breaks,
A swords cuts through my shield.

One of my gauntlets cracks and falls from my arm. The arm holding the blade that caused my gauntlet to break lies on the ground, a few feet from it's owner's body. I turn to find another warrior swing a bat'leth with such force that when I block it with my own bat'leth, my blade cracks. I impale the jagged edge of my broken sword in his gut and unsheathe my mek'leth and yan as I spin to fend off another enemy.

I drop the shield and grab my axe,
A weapon in each fist.
The first blow makes the helmet crack,
The axe cut to the teeth.

The first warrior I meet with my mek'leth and yan meets his end with my mek'leth lodged in his cranial ridges. The next has his innards spilled when I open him with my yan.

I rip the axe from the head,
covered in blood and brains.
Leave the body lying dead,
Ready to strike again.

I begin to feel the fatigue of battle set in, but I continue on. I push forward with my dual melee attack, slashing and stabbing. The blood of my enemies covers my blades.

My sword cuts through clothes and skin,
Like a hot knife cuts through snow.
I smile as the bastard screams,
when I twist my sword.

The sound of steel cutting through skin, the shrieks of pain, and the guttural war cries echo over the land. I twist my yan as it is embedded in a warrior, and he cries out like a targ.

Sword in my hand,
Axe on my side.
Valhall awaits me,
Soon I will die.
Bear skin on my back,
Wolf jaw on my head.
Valhall awaits me
when I'm dead.

Today is a good day to die. I will surely be sent to the Hall of the Honored Dead if I am struck down. Kahless and Sto-Vo-Kor await me when I am dead. I look forward to drinking blood wine with all the great warriors who died before me.

I raise my axe above my head,
My eyes stare in furious rage.
Yet more blood will be shed,
This is a victorious day!

I can tell that victory is within our grasp. Grethor will not be welcoming me on this day. I bring my mek'leth down for the killing blow.

Blood gushes from the wound,
The cut is wide and deep.
As I turn around,
I fall to my knees.

A d'k tahg stabs through my chest plate and cuts through sinew and tissue. He yanks it out and I fall to the ground and I close my eyes as death overtakes me. I know that when I open them again, I will be at the gates of Sto-Vo-Kor, with a mug of blood wine waiting for me.

Sword in my hand,
Axe on my side.
Valhall awaits me,
Soon I will die.
Bear skin on my back,
Wolf jaw on my head.
Valhall awaits me
when I'm dead.

A/N: For those wondering what a yan is, it is the sword like weapon that Duras used in his fight with Worf when he was killed.