Assassin's Creed Fanfiction: Norse Chronicles

Chapter 1: Ragnar Lothbrok

An eight year old Ragnar stood in front of his father, Sigurd Lothbrok. Ragnar was a child of curious talents. From a small age he has the ability to free run as well as scale buildings with ease whenever Ragnar and his tribe visited cities and settlements. H had the particular ability to discern every small fact. The child was tall for his age nearing four feet by just half an inch. He was born with glittering sliver hair, not white hair that looked dull, but shining silver hair that gleaned in the sunlight. He had obsidian black eyes that he had inherited from his father. He wore heavy clothes befitting of the raging blizzard going on outside the hut.

"What is it that you wanted father?" Ragnar asked. He was the first born of Sigurd who was the head of the tribe. He was the heir with his younger brother, 7 year old Rollo to be the second in command of the tribe. He like all the other men and women in the tribe would start their weapon training at the age of eight. Sigurd scanned his son with his obsidian eyes. He then said "You will start your weapons training, come with me son."

Sigurd watched his son as they trudged through the snow to get to the weapon's tent. He wished for his and his son's relationship to change. After his wife died when Ragnar was four both he and Sigurd had changed to be of people of serious persona. His son always trained on his own without even reaching eight with wooden weapons. Sigurd knew that no one except him himself knew this in the whole tribe. Such was the secret keeping prowess of his eldest. Even Sigurd would have missed it if not for his abilities from a…old brotherhood.

After they reached the weapon's tent, after curtly greeting the guard they entered. On the tent laid a vast amount of weapons. "Choose your weapons son." Sigurd said as he pierced his son with gleaming eyes which made Ragnar himself uncomfortable.

Ragnar stepped forward as he took out his mother's leaf shaped sword. His mother, according Sigurd and the others, was a great fighter and the example of women being capable of standing on men's par. He sheathed it and took a tomahawk sized Battle-axe. Finally he took a buckle full of throwing knives. He then looked at Sigurd who had a satisfied smirk. He had seen Ragnar practice with those weapons in secret thus guaranteeing his guess of weapons.

Sigurd muttered a prayer to Thor, Odin, Heimdall and all the other gods for the safety of his son in combat as he then said "Well then son, how about we start your practice?"

X.X.X

4 years later

Ragnar looked at the cliff below them. Every year the tribe relocated. His training had grown under his father's tutelage. He was considered a prodigy with the sword and battleaxe. He also showed a great aptitude for throwing knives. Sigurd's teaching style was brutal but gifting. Ragnar had quite the muscles for a 12 year old reaching the height of 4 feet 9 inches at the age of twelve.

He breathed in a blast of winter air as he looked at the vast expanse of the sea before him. Where did they lead to? Unfortunately no one knew. That's why Vikings became famous explorers, to find the beyond. He closed his eyes as he imagined himself in every sight of nature he could think off from the drawings he saw in books and scrolls. He was always fascinated by nature. It wouldn't hurt for a twelve year old to indulge in it.

Suddenly as he heard an eagle's screech somewhere in the skies, a map appeared in his mind. What Ragnar found peculiar with this map in his imaginative mind was that he could see everything on it. He also noticed it was the map of the cliff he was standing upon and saw his tribe's settlement few hundred meters away. He saw all the people in his tribe. He willed the map to go away and just as a faint memory it drifted away. Confused of his gift yet happy, he let out a prayer to the gods of Asgard and Vanaheim for this peculiar gift.

He returned to the camp as he looked at his tribe all frolicking and doing their best to live out in the cold harsh areas of Scandinavia. He was greeted by his pet wolf who was named Fenrir immediately after entering the tribe camp. Ragnar had found the pup when he seven years old, he was freezing out in the cold with no pack sheltering him. After some debates with his father, Sigurd had allowed Ragnar to keep the wolf. It had proven to be a valuable ally with its hunting abilities and ferocious growls that kept enemies at bay.

Ragnar let the wolf lick him for some while before giving him a slab of meat for it to eat. The wolf moaned as it gulped it down. Ragnar stroked it before letting it go play in the snow. He was about to retreat to his tent when a hurried messenger crashed into his father's tent. Interested Ragnar followed.

"Sire, the Otsberg Tribe has mobilized and is about to attack us, the Lothbrok Tribe in a day's time!" The Messenger wheezed out.

Sigurd nodded as he let the messenger go. Looking at the hiding place of Ragnar he said "Come out of there Ragnar."

Ragnar came out knowing there was no choice. He looked at his father who said "Call your brother. I want to tell you something."

Ragnar nodded mutely as he waded to his brother's tent and said "Rollo? Father is calling us."

Rollo grumbled as he squeezed his eyes and came out. He followed his older brother to their father's tent as they stood side by side letting their father speak. "As you know tomorrow the Otsberg Tribe will attack us. You have training with weapons for three and four years respectively. Do you wish to fight in the battle that will ensue?"

Rollo looked a little scared while Ragnar kept an impassive face. He nodded stiffly. Sigurd sighed as he said "You will have to take lives you know."

Ragnar said "That is the life of a Viking Warrior, father. Let it be, I will fight."

Rollo looked at his brother before saying "If older brother is fighting then so will I!"

Sigurd looked at his son's with a critical gaze and said "Fine, but take no quarters. And give none either."

Both the sons nodded as they went towards the weapon's tent to practice for tomorrow morning's inevitable batte.

x.x.x

All the children and non-warrior women had been huddled in the middle while the warriors stood in a circle around the camp. About 60 warriors protecting another 30 people. Three lines of defense for an even battle with the enemy having 60 warriors of their own. Sigurd kept his son's close to him each standing beside him. He saw the tribe leader of the Otsberg come forward. "Surrender and your tribe will be spared, Hidden One." He spat the last part out.

"I don't think so, Order of Ancient's." Sigurd spat at the leader. Both the children were now bewildered. What did hidden one, and order of ancients mean? Well it meant naught now for a battle was about to ensue. The Otsberg leader shouted to his warriors "Attack!"

60 warriors attack the Lothbrok Tribe's camp. Hacking of swords, battle-axes, tomahawks, arrows, daggers and much clashed around the field. Ragnar immediately sprang into action. He threw four throwing knives at the incoming four people at him, all of them crumpled down dead. A warrior then said "Stop, this young lad's talented it seems. I will fight him myself."

A man of about 18 years old stepped forward and drew his battle-axe. Ragnar drew his sword in his right hand and his tomahawk sized Battle-axe in another as he scrutinized the man. He was tall and imposing. Lean and muscular. Stocky as well. The man stepped forward and said "My name is Thelma Otsverg. What is your young warrior?"

"My name is Ragnar. Ragnar Lothbrok." With that the young warrior dashed forward and swung his sword at Thelma. Thelma blocked it with his huge axe. Ragnar twisted as he tried to hit the enemy with his own axe. Thelma saw this and kicked Ragnar in the gut to send him sprawling. Ragnar stood up quickly as he ignored the pain and threw three throwing knives at Thelma. Only one hit home and that as well in Thelma's thigh. Thelma only winced as he took the knife out and threw it right back at it's owner.

Ragnar dodged it and swept his feet. That caused some snow to splash into Thelma. Thelma was stunned momentarily as Ragnar took full advantage of it. Ragnar stabbed Tehlma in the kidney area. Thelma howled in pain as he swiped Ragnar making him painfully fall to the ground. A looming Thelma stood in front of him with his battle-axe raised. "I hope you said good bye kid."

But just then a sword pierced his heart as the man fell to the side dead. Sigurd reached his hand out as he said "Stand up, and fight my son! Your brother is fighting as well."

Ragnar looked at his father graciously and accepted his hand. He stood up and looked at the carnage going on. 20 on both sides were killed. Ragnar clutched his hands until they were sickening white as he saw some of his childhood friends being cut down. He swept up his sword and plunged it towards a man coming towards him. He threw a hunting knife towards a man who was approaching his brother from the behind as he swung his battle-axe in such a perpendicular motion that killed three people in aone go. The bodies fell down in a heap.

Ragnar took a moment to see his father fighting. He was like a demon loose in the field. He ran cutting anyone who dared stood in his way as he approached the leader of the Otsberg Tribe. Ragnar quickly followed suit as he dodged, hacked, stabbed, dodged. From the side of his eye, he saw Rollo doing the same and with him approached their father. As they reached the two tribal leaders were fighting it out as they hacked, stabbed, dodged, hit, dodge, stab again and again. His father gracefully fought the enemy while the otsberg leader had an absolute brutal fighting style. Sigurd parried them all and in one swift motion cut the head of the enemy leader off. The body swayed in the wind for a bit before falling down dead. After seeing their leader fall down dead the Otsberg warriors retreated in a running pile.

Ragnar wanted to chase them and kill each and every one of them but his father stopped him. Blood was smeared on his face and body parts like every warrior. He clasped both Rollo and Ragnar's shoulders as he said "You did well. Both of you."

X.X.X

5 years later

Ragnar was visiting the city of Aarhus near where the tribe was now stationed. Just three more years, and at the age of twenty, Ragnar would take up the mantle as Tribal Leader. Ragnar sighed, he shouldn't be thinking about those things right now. He was currently looking at the beautiful city of Aarhus. He looked at the fortified city, strong, elegant yet beautiful. He hoped to find a girl like that in the future to settle down with.

He was walking around the town marveling at the place when he saw a commotion take place in an alleyway. He entered the alley and saw a hooded figure fighting four thugs. The hooded figure was a woman, no doubt about that. She had bumps in her chest clothes and a wider hip than any male could ever have. That definitely pointed to female. Ragnar wanted to help but stood in awe as he saw the hooded woman dispatch of the four thugs quite easily. What was surprising was however, she had a mechanism on her left hand. Every time Ragnar saw her flick her wrists a blade popped out of a gauntlet she wore. It was lethal to say the least. The four men fell down to the ground dead.

Ragnar saw the woman pick up a letter of sorts by rummaging through the dead men's pockets. She then took notice of Ragnar. Before he could even blink the woman was in front of Ragnar. But before she could do anything Ragnar was already in a defensie position ready to retaliate. The woman in her own stance growled out "How much did you see?"

"A lot. You dispatched them so easily. How? And what's that blade mechanism on your hands? Why are you missing a ring finger?" Ragnar asked with his hands still up for defense.

The girl growled. "You know too much already. What's your name?"

"Ragnar. Ragnar Lothbrok. What's yours?" Ragnar asked politely even in the condition he was.

The girl froze for a few seconds. "Lothbrok?"

Ragnar nodded.

The girl immediately growled again. "This makes it even more complicated. Come with me."

Without much of a choice in the matter and curiosity burned in Ragnar. He followed the girl to the docks where they boarded a ship called Vindhogen (Wind-hawk in Old Norse). Inside the ship many people were hooded much like the girl. Talking about the girl she flipped her hood backwards and showed her face. She looked about half a year older than Ragnar. But that's beside the point. She was absolutely stunning. She had blonde hair and dark blue eyes that could see through almost anything. She stopped before an elderly man wearing a hood. The elderly man had a benevolent experession on his face that could make people fall into his embrace. The man looked at Ragnar and then at the girl.

"Lagertha, why have you brought this man here?" The old man asked.

"Mentor Harald, this man saw the fight between me and the Order of Ancient's (A/N-The Templars were called Order of Ancient's until the eleventh century) hired thugs. He has seen too much, what shall we do?" Lagertha, the girl asked Harald.

Harald stroked his white beard before looking at the young man before him. The man had a leaf shaped sword on his hilt with a tomahawk sized battle axe on the right side of his robes. He had a side pocket containing twenty throwing knives. He was tall, already at the height of 6 feet 2 inches at the age of seventeen, and very muscular it seemed. "My name is Harald Rebslager. What is your name young man?" Harald addressed Ragnar.

Ragnar looked at the man studying him. This part unnerved Harald a bit. For Ragnar, the girl, Lagertha her name, had said Order of Ancient's. That's what his father had called the Otsberg leader so many years ago. Maybe he could get his answers now perhaps. "My name is Ragnar Lothbrok. An honor to meet you, whomever you and your underlings maybe."

Lagertha growled. "You will be more respectful to the mentor."

Haradl held up a hand to stop Lagertha. "Stop Lagertha. He does not know anything from his surprise evident on his face. And you are a Lothbrok you say. Has your father not said anything?"

Raganr tilted his head in confusion. "Why should my father say anything for that matter?"

Harald sighed "Maybe he was waiting for the right time. Well I guess there's no time like the present eh? Come with me and I shall divulge all."

X.X.X

Ragnar stormed towards his tribe's camp. Assassins? Order of Ancient's? Pieces of Eden? What the hell? And his father knew allof this?

Oh he and his father were going to have some words. He entered the tribe's camp. He stopped as he saw it was deserted. A cold feeling washed over Ragnar. The camp always had some children running around playing in the snow or playing with wooden toys and with their mothers keeping an eye on them and gossiping with each other. Men practicing and sparring with each other. But the place was deserted. Quiet and still…as if all life had been sucked from it.

Ragnar hurried to his family tent.

The sight that welcomed him made him almost puke in horror. His wolf, Fenrir dead. His father dead. His brother, on the verge of death. A man loomed over them with a sword in hand. Ragnar recognized him. The son of the Otsberg leader, Liv Otsberg.

He saw Ragnar. He diverted his attention from the sprawling Rollo on the ground as he stepped forward. "So, the little brat who assisted in my father's killing five years ago eh?"

Ragnar took his sword out as he said "I will cut the entire family tree then Order of Ancient!" Ragnar spat still feeling a bit nausea at the dead face of his father and the almost dead face of Rollo.

The man smiled. "So you know of our two orders eh? Let us see which is better, Ancient's or Assassin's." With that he charged forward with incredible speed.

But Ragnar was prepared. 9 years of official training and two extra years of unofficial training had made him capable of holding himself against mighty opponents. Yet a thought nagged him. His father was a former retired Assassin according to Harald with decades of experience. Yet he died against this man. Even Rollo who was exceptional fighter was defeated by this man. Ragnar blocked the sword with his own as he parried and tried to stab the man in the gut. He backed a bit before swinging his sword with full force. Ragnar stumbled back a bit and before he could do anything the many brought his sword down. Ragnar rolled away but the sword caught his right ring finger. Ragnar clutched his finger tightly in pain as he looked at his detached finger on the ground.

Growling he got back up again and swung at the mid-section of the man. He stumbled and just in time blocked. Ragnar was about to kill when the man got back again and hit Ragnar with the other end of his sword. Ragnar stumbled as he realized his mistake.

The man had feinted.

Ragnar closed his eyes waiting for the inevitable. Nothing happened. Only a slight clattering of sword. Ragnar opened his eyes to see a dead man on the floor beside him and Rollo who looked deathly pale standing in front of him.

"Rollo." Ragnar wheezed as he asked "What happened?"

Rollo shook his head. "I do not know. I had gone away for hunting with Fenrir. When I returned I saw everyone including father dead. Fenrir tried to attack the man alongside me….well you saw the results."

Ragnar saw it too. Rollo then asked "Why did he call you an Assassin?"

Ragnar shook his head "I am not an Assassin. But with the way things are Rollo, we might just be in the future."

END OF CHAPTER.