Just so you know this is ALL my own creation with names borrowed/inspired by the Norse.

Will work on next piece over weekend expect to be up by monday or tuesday


Riding my Stoneclad something seemed wrong. We had been riding for three days waiting for our chance, with not so much as a whiff of our prey. The hunting party would soon have to turn around and head back to the village to resupply. As my first hunt it would be embarrassing to return without a single boar. Not one hunting party had ever failed and returned. The Stoneclad I was riding shivered, that confirmed it, they only showed worry when under attack. The ripple of motion travelling along it's spine almost toppled it's heavily armoured bulk. The sheer size and natural armour made them perfect as war beasts, while their surprising speed made them useful for long rides, weighing in at two tonnes they were one of the smaller creatures of the plains. The final proof of my suspicions was confirmed when I saw the fallen boar. Even as I saw it the Stoneclads instinctively formed a ring. The boar was split from jaw to spleen, it's seven foot tusks lay broken several strides from it's body. The main problem was the burns. It was obvious that a dragon had been here but the question was what type... and how long ago it was here?

I leaped determined put myself at ease, to see how cold the corpse was. My fear turned to panic as I realised that not only was it still warm but some of the hairs were still alight. I reached for my spear but even as I did I realised we stood no hope. Twelve men would be no match for the single most deadly predator ever to stalk the Iron lands. Even as we took up a defensive huddle I scanned for any sign of it's whereabouts. What appeared to be a rock quickly uncurled revealing a Mauler. Even so all hope of escape diminished as one of the strongest dragons there are, the only thing to our advantage was that it could not fly. I dived away from the huddle strength flowing through me, almost as if mortal peril caused me to fill with pure energy. As I rolled to face the dragon I realised at once I had made the right decision as a fireball, fast as thought, crashed through the others. Then seeming satisfied the creature turned to me as the Stoneclads turned and ran, knowing even their armoured bulk could not resist a single blow from either it's claws or tail. As the Mauler opened it's mouth time seemed to slow, as though the rest of the world was moving through treacle, I made a perfect cast with my spear catching the beast in the throat even as a red glow appeared in it's mouth. The spear travelled through the air in a glorious arc before gliding down the dragons throat and into it's fire lung. There was an eruption and agony burst through me as I was covered in dragon blood. The last thing I saw before I passed out was a black shadow moving across the sky.


Four days ago

I am from The Village. While it may once have had a name it is now only known as The Village. For centuries now we have been at war with the dragons; at one point the dragons were winning but now there is a vicious stalemate. As long as The Village has been here, possibly before even that, we have been working. Although all our buildings are wooden we are the most advanced village in the known world. We had to develop many, many weapons to fend off repeated dragon attacks. In recent years we have been attacked less and less as our weapons became more powerful. It used to be that we would bring down a single dragon during an attack, if we were lucky, these days we bring down over a dozen largely due to the Wingshredder, a simple device similar to a ballista made out of dragon bone that fires large barbs to cut holes in dragon's wings. We still have to hunt, which is a problem, although now the attacks on the village are few and far-between we lose many men to raids on our hunting parties, the anti-dragon weapons are too large to carry normally. Many are expected to be good with weapons or be assigned to the forge. I myself am good with a spear but am outclassed with all size blades by nearly every other man in the village. During my fifteenth year I was finally sent out to hunt with some of the other, more experienced, men. This is where my journey truly begins.

"hey you two" Thrall the war-master exclaimed at myself and Vali, my best friend, "put down those toy sticks your playing with and prepare yourselves it's time you two were initiated" he boomed gesturing to the oaken swords we were training with before throwing us each a foot and a half long steel blade.

"Wait which hunting party have we been assigned to?" I asked inquisitive as to who had accepted us.

"You Hrolf have been accepted by the Wolf pack, Vali, you by the Hawk flock," he paused as if for effect then continued," You'll have to collect your helmets yourselves from the forges they'll be ready by tomorrow when you leave. Now, may life shield you from the flames of death"

"And your armour from the fire of dragons" both I and Vali chanted back in the traditional warrior farewell. I had a thought on the situation which I voiced to Vali "these new farewells will take some getting used to."

"Aye your right there" he replied before we once again exchanged the ancient farewell.


I awoke contemplating my surroundings. I found my dagger lying nearby heavily damaged by the dragon blood as soon as I spotted my new helm I realised it was damaged beyond repair the metal still bubbling. Even though I knew it was futile I tried to wipe off the blood in the dirt to save some of the craftsmanship before I realised what had caused it to fall off my head.

The six inch serrated claw had penetrated the steel without damage to itself. I extracted the claw from the helmet before I noticed a large beast in the distance. I gasped as it approached, standing over fifteen feet high, it was the chiefs war mount, it's fur covered muzzle stained with fresh dripping blood.

"Hey you down there what happened to your pack" I lay there astounded for a few moments before the chief spoke again "I said who are you and what the hell happened here." I opened my mouth and after what felt like an age finally spoke.

"I am Hrolf of the wolf pack and I think, I think, I am the last" I finally finished blood dripping from a wound in my leg.

"What an entire pack wiped out but for one man and not only that but aren't you that new recruit. What the hell happened?" He bellowed panic showing in his voice as he looked around him, hand moving towards the three foot dragon tooth sword at his belt.

"We were attacked, a Mauler I think, but I killed it and it exploded thats how I got this, some dragon blood hit me" I gestured to the wound on my leg wiping away some of the blood. Even as I contemplated what I had said the images rushed through my brain of how my pack had been incinerated before I skewered the dragon and how time seemed distorted in that final instant after my cast.

"Well boy if what you've said is true then we'll overlook the fact that you failed to kill a boar" he laughed "And with my luck you may well end up being quite the hero. Now let's get you back to camp so the apocothary can take a look at you leg