From Asgard to Midgard

by Scarabeye3000

Hiccup catches the attention of the Asgardian Gods and is saved just before his supposed 'death' against the Red Death. Years later, he comes back and slays Drago. Shall we read on then? Take some time to read through it, you might like what you see.(Image: Neroth of Thousand Deaths by Author)

25. Go forward and fight

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Shout out to my signed reviews! You know who you are: SMr. Freeze, The Viking Stranger, UnbreakableWarrior, Patty4577, jlghighlander, Sonochu, snoopykid, dracologistmaster

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Disclaimer: Any characters mentioned are all under copyright. This work is purely fan-made.

Title: From Asgard to Midgard

Author: Scarabeye3000

Chapter 25: 'Go forward and fight.'

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The Vatican City

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The Holy Father stared down from his throne as the delegation from Spain and from France came together under the flag of truce in front of the Holy See. Heeding the letters to intervene in their behalf, Pope Alexander VI tried not to fall asleep as the Spanish representative, a well-known Count of high standing speaking heatedly on the virtues of their manhood or rather their monarch's manhood. The French delegates remained aloof and allowed their counter-parts to run off their mouths in front of the conference. The Pope's new adjutant stood alert and immobile, a black suited Archbishop who was once an adjutant of the former Pope.

Under the orders of the adjutant, they were not served wine nor coffee, to ensure that nothing will excite the attendees. Cold water extracted from the nearby mountains and cooled in special containers were served as the main quencher of the attendees. The Spanish Count from the Order of Alcantara, one of the most prestigious and was sanctioned by Rodrigo's predecessor, Pope Alexander III spoke eloquently and forcefully.

"The Spanish Crown demands from the Kingdom of France that they relinquish from their protectorate, the Kingdom of Monaco-"

"No, no you pompous Aragonese Count-" a French Marquis, probably from the Royal Family himself though it is impossible to tell since the speaker wore an iron mask concealing his face, "How dare you demand from my Monarch a pittance of that protectorate!"

"How do you explain then honorable... Marquis? That you threaten to invade Spain if we involve ourselves in this Monaco business?"

The Marquis stood up straighter and looked at the Count dangerously, "To reach Monaco, you would need to cross French soil- and if you cross our realm with an army it is vital to our defense that any hostiles must be repulsed at once or trampled by our knights."

"You speak of defense as if you know of it."

"Of course, monsieur Aragon-"

"You would not know what defense is if it hit you in the face estupido!"

The Marquis stood up and banged the table, "And as if you know? You boasts of self sufficiency in the Holy Land, yet you can't even unseat the Muslims at Valencia! Your own backyard!? Self-righteous ingrates, we know of what your monarchs do to your heroes!"

"Callar bastardo! Spain has been fighting the Berbers, the Almoravids, the Muslim raiders coming from Africa and from the Strait of Gibraltar. We have held the tip of Europe under our rule and under us no Muslim Sultan or General set foot on your own kingdom!"

"Sacre Bleu! El Cid fought the Muslims and your monarchs threw him out! That is absurd Monsieur! We would not accept this unreasonable terms from unreasonable people- the Rulers of Monaco will be protected by France indirectly by not allowing your army safe passage in our borders, their defense is tantamount to France's own defense as the mutual agreement had been beneficial for more than 300 years under the pretense that Monaco is a kingdom within a kingdom!"

"You let your territories at the Holy Land to fall to Ottoman hands and now you spout of defense? Tonto! How dare you!?"

"Merde! C'est vraitment des conneries! Ferme la bouche!" , (Shit! This is bullshit! Shut up *very rude way*!

"Puto la maricon!" , (slutty gay.)

Gutter language flew back and forth as Rodrigo Borgia, or aptly named Alexander VI shook his head and raised his hand to silence.

A few more snide remarks and shaking of fist, but thankfully, no swords or blood were drawn.

"It is clear to the Holy See that the aggrieved and the bereaved would not reach mutual agreement as of this time-" he shook his head as his adjutant came forward with a piece of parchment and some writing material, "-we of the Holy See, which is the true Vicar of Christ on this Earth, decree forthwith that the heralds of the combined Kingdoms of Castille and Aragon and the Kingdom of France, together with their respective retinues and escorts shall be sequestered on Castel Santa Angelo-"

The two princes from the respective kingdoms erupted into protests at once.

"But Holy Father- "

"My lord- to hold us at the Castel? We are not even prisoners!"

"-furthermore," Rodrigo Borgia shrugged off their protests like duck shrugging water, "...they are tasked to come up with a solution to this histrionics within 20 days, upon which the initial draft of their treaty, including exclusions, terms and conditions would be sent to their respective kingdoms in the fastest time possible and to expedite the quickest response from their own kingdoms."

The Cardinal wrote the exact same words in High Latin as the Princes all sat in silence, their own retinues remained silent behind them.

"-addendum, if any unforeseen circumstances should happen to any and all parties, et al; assassination, disease, disappearance, or any act proven to be less than the hand of God, it is the Holy See's and the Papal States prerogative to hold the other party accountable, pending serious investigation by the office of the Vicar of Christ. Any party found guilty would be held and be declared Excommunicado Tratoris and if successive evidence point otherwise would be summarily executed, and their citizens (innocent/guilty) declared Persona Non Grata to all churches under the command of the Holy See. So ordered, Pope Alexander VI."

Red hot wax was poured on the document by the Cardinal, he signed his name indicating his rank and of his office. Then he jotted down the name of Pope Alexander VI, he took the signet ring, or the Fisherman's Ring as the Pope hands it over to him. Pressing it into the hot wax, the design on the front clearly indicates an official document coming from the authority of the Holy See itself. The two princes grudgingly accepted their copies as the Swiss Guards came inside the sealed room and quickly led them away towards Castel Santa Angelo.

Pope Alexander VI stood up quickly as his guest were led outside. Walking up to his study, he slammed the door shut as his adjutant stood near the wine rack and poured a helping of wine. Rodrigo shook his head as he turned to a nearby sofa and saw someone sitting on it.

"And you are?"

White sallow skin, black smooth hair as their guest stood up and smiled dangerously. His demeanor as dangerous as the blade sheathed on his hip, the Pope looked back at him unconcerned as the Cardinal took a sip of the wine and waited.

"My name is Cythrax- I am the Archon of the Iron Thorns Kabal," another shadow stepped behind him and now the Pope took a step back in fear. "We asked for an audience with you- and you have accepted. Our presence should be of no surprise to you then."

"I am Neroth, Warlock of Archon Cythrax, pleasure to meet you... monkeigh spirit leader," the man called Neroth looked back at him from behind a skull mask, he carried a staff that rippled with obvious energy and seemed to bend the light that passed through the pulsing jewel at the top.

Cythrax stood up and walked around the office and scrutinized everything, like an inquisitor looking upon the things of those that he is about to deem unworthy, the Archon then turned to the Pope and smiled again.

"You have excellent taste in art, wine and hobbies."

Rodrigo Borgia's eyes furrowed, "Whatever do you mean by that?"

"It means that I have knowledge that you have purchased- or rather your family has purchased almost 200 slaves from my enterprise... and like a good businessman, any transaction that seemed to increase my profit would come to my attention."

"Iron Thorns huh? I seem to have read a report about your syndicate."

"Ouch! Why so serious Pope Alexander? Is not your church another grand syndicate?"

"Whatever do you mean?"

Cythrax smiled, "Think, you accept tributes, payments, gold and treasures from every noble that seemed to ask you for favors that are not so easily obtainable by man... yet this church does nothing, merely preaches that the truth is this and that- Jesus this, Moses that... that sort of garbage does not hold my attention."

"Do you know what holds my attention human?" the Archon smiled evily, "Power, wealth, and pleasure so intense you simply die every time it crawls upon your whole body."

Rodrigo stood up straighter and also smiled dangerously, "What is it you truly want then?" he walked up to the wine case and carefully poured a measured amount from the decanter.

"You- you are different? Does your status accord you immunity from our... charms?"

"Your charms would need to be much stronger than that to affect me-"

"What do you-?" the Dark Elf stopped and held the Pope's gaze. They were unfocused, they were inert and unseeing. Whatever happened, he seemed to have lost his consciousness and was moving independently and talking animatedly at him. He watched as the Pope walked over to a side of the library and stop in front of the sitting Cardinal.

With rapt attention, they watched with unbridled amusement as Alexander VI bent his knees to kneel in front of the Cardinal and puts the chalice of excellent wine on the hands of the lower-ranked cleric.

"You-"

The Cardinal smiled, gone was the lines and signs of old age. The wrinkled hands were smoothed as the liver spots vanished into nothingness, the dark brown eyes now held bright green ones as the carefully cropped hair now extended beyond the shoulders already reaching the middle of his back. Cythrax couldn't help it, but he smiled at the audacity of their guests. Instead of meeting with their contact, their contact went the other way around and came for them instead.

Loki tore off the hanging skin as he magically melted the disguise marking him as the old Cardinal. He accepted the goblet of wine as Cythrax and Neroth walked over to him and bowed slightly in respect.

"So, I guess you are the Betrayer?"

"Astute observation, we have much to discuss."

"I understand Lord Loki- may our master find such an honor to bestow on you the minute you finish our tasks."

"I have knowledge that you are trying to scour Midgard for the Key."

The Dark Elf's eyes widened, "I was not aware that you have foregone the usual manner of information- but it is expected. Yes, we were tasked to find the Key though indirectly."

"You are a patsy then? Your Lord is truly cunning."

"True, the Nargothrond Campaign and the resulting war that's sweeping the Nine Realms are but distractions of the real going-on and would have given us free rein in pursuing our agendas. There is another Kabal that was given the primary task of that and they have remained hidden all this time, I have no knowledge about that, but Lord Malekith informed us about it. "

Loki stood up and swirled the sinful liquid, "I see then- it would be unfortunate then if a civilization would encounter them? Well, we have certainly made their jobs easier."

"Whatever do you mean?"

"I have found information about the location of the Key, but to scour its location from the annals of antiquity we will need a sizable force to root it out."

Cythrax smiled and showed his fangs, "The Coalition- no the Kabal would be used I presume?"

"Of course not," this words gave a frown to the two Dark Elves, "Would you expose yourselves too early? Our enemies would come forward if such an overt move is given. We should try a more subtle approach- am I right good puppet?"

Pope Alexander bowed respectfully and smiled, "Yes my lord, I have the perfect plan in mind."

"Let's hear it then."

"In recent years, with the Reconquista of the Spanish and the French Renaissance beginning to unfold the Catholic Church had some problems with heretics. The Holy See deemed it necessary to make sure that true adherence to the state religion is continuing and all signs of deviancy would be expunged. It gave broad discretion to all methods to prove one's own faith and display of religious zeal and resilience. We only need to ask a Christian country to use their armies to carry out Inquisitorial duties and they would be paid a sum for their troubles."

"Gold?"

Rodrigo Borgia nods his head to the Warlock, "Only gold Master Warlock is deemed acceptable, by utilizing the local army commanded by men of cloth. They are 'inspired' that doing the Lord's work would redeem them and carry their souls to heaven. Of course, these are lies, but they do not need to know that."

"Of course doing so would let us give the freedom to move around a nation or a territory correct?"

Loki and Cythrax smiled as the Pope nodded. So cunning indeed.

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Berk

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"Why the hell are we doing this again?"

"Survival and all that crap..."

"aha..."

Snotlout griped as he tried balancing the heavy sword on his arms, Tuffnut panting beside him as they began their morning run around the village fully armored and fully armed. After a week of being sequestered, the Riders of Berk began their conditioning and sure enough they were easily sent flying to the ground. Master Portio, their Dark Elf teacher, already taught them the necessary skills to move about freely. Skill and agility for the much smaller and nimbler members, while strength and skill were given to the bulkier ones. But their conditioning remained the same all throughout.

Using the numerous houses and obstacles to their advantage, they were taught to move like the wind, and flow like water.

Or so they said in the first few days, which gave them much of their bruises and broken bones. Mainly from falling on wooden fences, or obstacles that they weren't able to see or misjudged, not including the broken roofs that simply caved in because they were unable to put the correct weight on the correct location. At the morning, Master Portio or sometimes Master Rafiq would run them to the ground with calisthenics and running, after breakfast they are taught free-running by Portio. Followed by swordsmanship and skill training by Rafiq or if time allows Portio takes over with the obvious delight of Tuffnut and Snotlout.

All in all, their training was going well considering their penchant to stumble or still be confused by their instructors wild attacks.

Sometimes, just to heighten their senses, Portio or Rafiq would attack them in their sleep. Although so far none have obtained grave injuries, most have gotten hairline fractures from broken bones, or thinly sliced injuries that drew blood. Mostly it scared the hell out of them, but after a week of being constantly in alert, a slight noise or just an uneven breathing near them would cause them to stir and awaken. Considering they were so unaccustomed to attacks before, everyone considers it a great achievement in terms of their skills.

Summing it all up, they can do a passable free-run through the village now. Last more than five minutes against Rafiq or Portio, if they attack all at once, and learned to stay alive in the face of a very skilled opponent, in theory. Training with their specialized weapons, Astrid, Snotlout and Fishlegs have now gone forward and began training also with their advanced combat instructor, Master Rafiq.

"Remember Snotlout, you are the strongest of your generation, Hiccup has seen that and bestowed upon you a great weapon" Rafiq said as he twirled a rather smaller sword aimed at him, "If you could wield it like an extension of your arm, then you could be a force to be reckoned with."

"It's heavy."

"It's a shield breaking sword, it is supposed to be heavy," their instructor shook his head and smacked his student in the head, "Less complaining, more swinging-"

"My arms are sore! I'm swinging this damn thing around the whole day and I'm still as clumsy as a three legged yak trying to do the hokey-pokey."

"What you lack is balance and focus, why do you think I've been teaching you free-running? So it can increase not just your agility, but also your focus- the way you fight is the way you think, like thinking five or ten steps ahead. Fight with your head Snotlout, not with just your arms."

Snotlout grunted as he heaved the heavy sword over as Rafiq blocked it with his smaller one. The dance continued again for an hour after that.

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Hiccup limped as he tried standing up, Toothless already standing by his side as he took a tentative step towards the stairs. It has been amazing to learn what happened to his friends, including the advancements to their skills and their techniques. Now, he would need to get stronger and get back into the grind. Numerous other projects are now lined up and not just the improvement of the Berkian Islands.

Walking downstairs he found Valka cleaning some fish that was probably delivered by their fishing boats. Lately, the fishing fleet has been complaining of fewer catches, but Hiccup argued that the fish might have been driven off by a pod of dragons. Who knows what's the reason, but so far its not as dire as the current situation of their security. The four outposts is now functioning properly, daily reports are flowing without any problems now, while their spies send word of a disturbance in the Meathead islands.

The Coalition, judging from their bold move last week of trying to assassinate him, seemed to take a step back at the current situation. So far, no attacks nor probing ships were seen on the outposts.

Two of their top assassins, probably even lieutenants of Cythrax were killed. However, many enemies escaped Nargothrond especially during the most confusing time of the conclusion of hostility and he could not assume such things so conveniently.

Regardless, seeing that the White Hands are here could mean one thing. Master Loki is here and operating in Midgard. However, why haven't he shown himself? Where is he now? What is the ultimate goal of his master? Why the hell is he even thinking about this now?

He shook his head as his mother hands him a satchel and puts a hand on his shoulder.

"I should tell you not to over-exert yourself, or don't push it too much since you're still recovering. But I know you'll do exactly the opposite of that-"

"-I'm not that hard-headed."

"You are the son of Stoick," his mother laughed a little, "The Gods know how hard his head is- now I have packed some foodstuff you can eat while working in the forges. I packed some bread, a couple of jerky, some sheep's milk..."

"I hate milk."

"Hush! Drink your milk, its good for you, remember that mother's always, ALWAYS knows best."

Hiccup shook his head, mounted his dragon and headed for the door, "Thank you mother."

"Enjoy your day, I'll wait for you at dinner."

As he walked outside while riding on top of Toothless, he couldn't even believe how much damage the poisoned blood of the Dark Elves did to him. Let alone would have done more if the timely intervention of his comrades have not happened, he could have turned to the darkness and never got back. Normally, he would have walked now going to and from his home, but the effects of the poison literally drained him of energy, its debilitating effect robbed him mostly of his motor skills and damaged the small veins on his body. His nerves though suffered the most damage and is not up to 100% as of the moment. Merely walking down from the 2nd floor of their house is painful, but the mere chore of going to the forges is just plain torture.

Master Portio though is currently keeping him in a strict diet of potions aimed to repair and restore the full use of his arms and legs. He's currently due for another infusion to make sure that he heals quickly and he would be able to join them in a possible on-going hunt.

Finally, both Dragon and human reached the forges, Gobber came out carrying a pail of water as he smiled at his apprentice.

"Well now, the color of your face seems to have improved."

"The medicine Portio gives is quite effective, I've been through worse damage Gobber, believe me-" Hiccup walked slowly and entered the forges, the intense heat from the kiln greeted his face as he puts his bag on the backroom. He spreads his notes and looked down at the plans laid out before him.

"So, what are you doing right now?"

"More weapons- I need to design weapons for the twins, they may need to fight together most of the time."

"Oh, by the way, about what Fishlegs told me a while ago-"

"Ah, yes! The leather armor made from dragon skin, I think that is still debatable."

"How?"

"Well, we mount dragons right? Now, how would they feel if they saw us using their skins, most likely from dead dragons anyway, but still the skins of their brethren. And how they will react to it is what I want to know."

Gobber rubbed his stubbly chin and nods in contemplation, "You have a point boy- why not test it out? Make a leather armor from dragon skin and then see if Toothless likes it."

"Judging from Drago's cloak, it doesn't seem to bother the other dragons under his command- or maybe they're just scared as hell," Hiccup shrugs his shoulder and begins his sketching, "In any case, I'll bring the designs to our most decorated master sewer and make him/her at least make a suit or an epaulet of dragon skin."

The blacksmith nodded and turned to the anvils again.

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Vanaheim

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A chain of explosions rocked the trench were the Warriors Three are located, their armor holed and damaged, their weapons almost blunted and useless as the rest of the men under their command lay down bleeding inside holes on the ground. Sounds of long-range fire and screams of the dying could be heard as the Asgardians looked up into the bleak night sky.

"Well, this is depressing," Fandral said as he took a small bite off a piece of bread, "Worse of all is we have this muck from Alfheim to sustain us."

Hogun grunted in reply as Volstagg grabbed two of the dry loaves and bites into them enthusiastically, "I don't know, it is kind of good you know?"

"My friend, you shall eat everything that is put in front of you, provided of course it is edible."

The sound of battle seemed to intensify as a horn blast came through the din, lightning bolts rained from the sky and yet their enemy doesn't seem to let up in their attacks. The campaign of Alfheim erupted into a full-blown war with many realms taking sides. Asgard leading on the other, while a mixture of Dark Elves, Frost Giants, demons, including evil men taking the other. Regrettably, being Asgard and upholder of balance and justice to all, all conflicts that erupted they have to pacify them one by one. Sometimes, a great God accompanies them, like in Alfheim where Lord Thor, Loki and to a certain extent, Lord Bor came to assist them.

But the Vanaheim Campaign effectively tied their hands together, as part of the subjugation of this realm, no God from Asgard may step into Vanaheim, and no Vanaheim God may come to Asgard. As such, Njord, leader of the Vanir Gods, took command of the force that the Eternal Realm seconded to them, but so far, the leader of the Vanaheim Gods seemed to lack the finesse and battlefield leadership that the Asgardians are so famous of.

"We are so fucked up in the command department-"

"Tell me about it, the magnanimous Njord didn't even know how to fight with an army, let alone manage a legion of the Golden Army. He led us straight into the most defensible and nigh unassailable part of the fort, he led us into a freaking SWAMP! "

"This is bullshit!"

"Good news is that I received word from Vanir Command that Lord Heimdall would be sending a detachment of the 1st Legion, about 20,000 Dark Angels to push forth and hopefully end the stalemate- god forbid they are also seconded to the Vanir Gods."

Hogun frowned and looked up to the top of the trenches, "Blast this stalemate, they're coming!"

Fandral and Volstagg engaged their energy shields and imbued magic in their weapons, their blades glowed as the enemy came into view.

"Terrific, more of the same enemy-"

"Frost Giants huh, a chilly death it is," Hogun said grimly as his morning star deployed more spikes, "For Asgard my friends!"

A wall of Frost Giants were leaping over trenches, trampling over fortifications, and charging them mercilessly. It seemed an unstoppable blue tide came rushing down from them as the tempo of the battle shifted towards their enemy. From their static positions at the forward front lines, the Warriors Three led the charge towards the last hill that is defending the icy Fort in the distance.

From the heavens a shower of rainbow light came down upon them dislodging more troops from the fabled 1st Legion of the Asgardian Army. Swords bent and axes blunted, shields broken and lives extinguished, for half a day the front lines shifted, yet the Warrior's Three kept their ground and finally took the hill with quite the casualties upon them. The screams of the dying never abated while the sound of clashing metal and spells blowing and showering around them continued without pause. The once lush ground that harbored only great things for the trees that occupied them only have blood as it flows out from the wound of the dead combatants, the whole hill went black as the blood of the dying came gushing as the day long battle soaked the top soil and buried the dead in their own blackened grave. Wet soil, decomposing bodies, dried blood, burnt carcasses, no words could describe the awful smell that permeates the battlefield.

Horrifying as it would have looked, it was all part of a plan. A plan set in motion by an enemy unknown yet to all who have dared fight the darkness.

The wave of Frost Giants finally broke and fought a running withdrawal towards their front lines. Their push was blunted by the Warriors Three as they also retreated to the top of the hill on the bunker that they have fortified recently. The three walked inside as their soldiers also hunkered down around them, exhausted at the seesaw like motion of the battle that's been going on for days.

Hogun gasped, his breathing labored as he sat down on the ground, exhausted beyond his reckoning, an arrow made from ice he easily plucked out from his armor, "I haven't been this tired since the Alfheim Campaign."

"True," Volstagg took a canteen and poured the contents on his lips, "This is probably the worst time that I have been into battle."

"Not really, remember the Campaign at Hel? And then the Swamps of Andorhal, oh yes, Nargothrond."

"Very well then!" the largest of the three exclaimed, putting a dressing cloth on one of his wounds, "ONE of the worst times then I have been into battle."

Fandral shook his head as Hogun and Volstagg began arguing again, the battle lines were set for now it seems and the reinforcements should be coming any moment now. Its best they get some shuteye to recuperate for the coming confrontation, in any case-

"VOLSTAGG!"

The addressed warrior suddenly stood up and saluted to no one in particular.

"What's wrong with you?" Fandral asked him with concern, "Feel like saluting in the air for no reason?"

"Strange," he scratched his head sheepishly, "I thought I heard Lord Thor's voice?"

"You got that right!"

"I heard that too."

"Listen all of you, Heimdall is concentrating on the three of you right now, you all need to listen quickly... or your heads might bursts from too much of his concentration. "

"What the?! You're telling us that right now!?"

"Get a grip! Heimdall is trying to lessen his concentration on behalf of your demise so be thankful when you see him."

"Of course my Lord, you have news of the other rebellion?"

"Same as what you're dealing with here. Now what I am about to tell you must not reach the knowledge of the Vanirs, listen well you Three. You are tasked to find any traces of the 'Key'. My father, Lord Odin, recently learned of the compromised seals on the Nidhogg's prison. With the tide of war slowly spreading into the Nine Realms, my brother conveniently vanished into nothingness and the deployment of the Warriors Three and the 'shadow force' of Asgard was somehow tampered with by someone unknown to us... we're looking into it right now and all I can tell you is that father is furious."

"But the direct line between the directive and decision making is only among Lord Heimdall and Lord Odin!" Fandral exclaimed, "Who could have gone in between them? Only a wizard or spell-caster of such great power and skill can- wait, oh my stars, what level of wizardry is Lord Loki at?"

"Now you see how dire it is? Now, listen and go finish this affair in 1 week... father approved sending the 1st Legion and do not squander them, they are not seconded to the Vanir-"

"Oh thank god! Their battle tactics are so abysmal!"

"Behave yourselves then, I'll see you in a week."

The proud voice of Lord Thor left their senses as all Three looked at each other and smiled. Oh dear, just what did Lord Loki do now.

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Uglithug Flagship

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"FIRE! FIRE! THERE'S FIRE!"

"Form a bucket brigade! Take out the pumps! Shore up the untouched decks! Secure the weapons!"

The alarm of the flagship rang ceaselessly as the secret flotilla of the Uglithugs is now on the 2nd leg of their journey towards their objective. With a hundred strong ships coming from the Meatheads and the Uglithugs combined fleet, if they would be compared to Drago's, a close match it would have been considering this fleet is as numerous as the eye can see while the Dragon Warlord had his Bewilderbeast thrown into the fray.

But, a new threat held up the fleet and now their flagship is under attack from an unknown enemy. The ship, similar to a Roman Trireme and had three decks were filled with soldiers running around like a disturbed ant colony. Already numerous fires engulfed the lower decks as the top most deck held Ug and his elite soldiers, his bosun and Lieutenants close by.

"What happened? Where are the weapons!?"

"Chief Ug, there was an unexplained explosion before the fire began-"

"-BOSUN! Here! Now!" a man with a scar running down his face came forward, he looked like an old sailor, or in their language, an old sea dog. "Find the cause of the fire and bring me his head on a pike!"

"Aye Chief!" the brutal looking man snapped his whip as if making his point known.

Ug's anger was terrible to behold yet he looked left and right and saw the controlled chaos of the people around him. There were sailors dousing the fire, a few soldiers hauling out the black powder they acquired from some Eastern peddler boat, and some soldiers carrying dead bodies of those probably snuffed out by the flames.

This is a nightmare, he thought, why the Hell would they experience this now. From their home island, no storm, nor bad fortune seemed to assail them. But now, as they neared the Berkian Archipelago, first the spoiled or poisoned food, then the missing/dead soldiers on the shore leave they had, and now this incessant deck fires. It seemed like a systematic attack on his flotilla.

How can it be? Were they penetrated already by their enemies? Were there spies? Saboteurs? Berkians? But who?

Another blast from below them rocked the flagship on its hull, picking themselves up quickly on the blast that knocked them off their feet. Chief Ug saw something fall down in front of them and stared at the object with surprise and concealed horror.

The old sea dog's eyes were lifeless as it looked back at him from where it landed on the deck floor. Lopped off from its neck, the Chief Bosun's head stared back at him with its eyes wide open.

They were under attack then- son of a bitch!

"ASSASSI-" the deck hand guard was cut off mid scream as a trench knife was easily passed on his throat, slicing his jugular and his blood gushing out of it.

Ug's eyes went wide as he saw the cloaked attackers heading for him, immediately the Vikings around him, his bodyguard and also his kin formed ranks and blocked the approaching group of cloaked men.

Kaldr strode purposely flanked by two of his men, "Givrola to the left, Mathuran take my right... Rael, deploy smoke. NOW!"

Smoke billowed from massive explosions as the calm seas offered no wind to dislodge the suffocating mass on the top deck of the ship. The blazing fire also contributed and it also added to the confusion of the battle. Only those closest to the Chief were aware of the situation as the distraction provided by the deck fires effectively made all spare deckhands and soldiers attend to the more pressing matters of their ship from sustaining heavy fire damage. As such, the Dark Elven assassins did their grisly work unimpeded.

Givrola, a man hidden behind a mask made of human skulls crouched down and ran towards the waiting enemy, armed with only two trench knives, he was the one that cut down the deck hand ringing the bell seconds ago. He wore no armor on his upper body, yet the scars and overall sight of him moving nimbly amidst the numerous weapons arrayed against him is impressive enough to make you halt and think first before engaging him.

Mathuran, another man or rather a Dark Elf hidden behind by a simple scarf on the face wielded a spear shaped like a crescent moon. It's sides more curved to nimbly take the parry of a sword and also to make it heavier. He also wore no armor on his upper body, except for a simple leather gloves and a tunic made from an unknown material. His movements were fast and steady, while Givrola moved much quicker and his attacks unorthodox to all who fought him.

The smoke silhouetted them, but Ug could not shake the cold dread creeping its way on his back. Screams as the sound of tearing flesh and ruptured veins reached their ears as more and more of their soldiers fell.

Master Kaldr shouted as two enemies came forward, "You're in the WAY!"

A flash of light and the Master easily sliced the two enemies in the middle. Their lifeless forms flopped down on the wooden deck as the rest continued forward, both their bodies sliced in half and flopped uselessly on the deck. The fury of the White Hands could not be denied as they cut down their enemies and made a path for their magnanimous leader. Every enemy that dared approach and get in between them and their target were sliced, stabbed, and hit mercilessly. Their cries of mercy from their numerous kills were unheeded as they continued the slaughter of their enemy quickly and efficiently

Ug's mind raced double time, maybe he could buy his way out, is this threat sent by the Coalition? Impossible, they had a deal!

This thoughts flashed into his mind as the leader of their enemy popped out of the smoke, the Chief of the Uglithugs drew his sword, but a second too late. Again, as Master Kaldr moved his hand something bright flashed in a wayward light.

There was no pain at all, just a dull throbbing sensation on his neck. Something didn't felt right since he saw that his vision got blurry and also tumbling down. His vision refocused as he stopped moving and saw his now headless body kneel down on the wooden deck as Ug, now the former Chief of the Uglithugs, looks upon his own body from his dying and decapitated head.

Fire on their target's eyes were finally extinguished as Rael, the last member of the Dark Elves stepped away from the smoke and picked up the severed head of Ug the Uglithug. He puts it quickly inside a silken bag and looks up to the three Dark Elves now standing beside him, a circle of dead bodies and pools of blood were all around them.

"Rael, record our kill-" Kaldr drew his sword and inspected the blade, satisfied that there were no blood marks he re-sheaths his sword and turned to his two men, "Prepare for exfiltration, we rally at our agreed checkpoint and proceed from there."

The flagship still burned as the soldiers and sailors tried putting out the fires, little did they know that the leader of the invasion force, the Chief of the Uglithugs lay on the top deck with his personal guards, decapitated and missing its head. It would be a few more hours before they were able to know what happened to them.

From a nearby ship, Grug, the cousin of Ug the Uglithug stared at the carnage from the other ship. His loyal retinue stood around him as his second in command leaned down on him.

"Shall we turn the ships now Chief?"

The new Chieftain of the Uglithugs nods and offered a silent prayer to the Gods.

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To be continued...

Author's note:

Okay! Another update! Slow and steady wins the race! All unknown words, please Google it.

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Cheers,

Scarabeye3000