A siege was never the preferred method of fighting a battle. Stuck outside of high, solid walls or stuck within, the act of breaking an enemy's will to carry on could be a long and tedious task. It was something that was often measured in how quickly it was over rather than the cost of lives, and could just as easily be given up rather than won or lost. A warrior could prepare for a siege if needed. Gather the necessary provisions and weapons for the trials to come, for the hard decisions to be made. A siege was about perseverance. Who could outlast the other and still have the strength to claim victory.

The siege of the Walled City was something Herleif had been anticipating since this raid had begun, and with the volcano looming ever larger on the horizon, he knew that the time to test his true mettle as both a Warlord and a Jarl would soon be at hand. So, the very idea that he would get caught up in a whole other siege, one unexpected and not prepared for in the slightest, did not sit with him well at all.

"We are running out of men!" he growled in frustration as he glared up at the rising walls of the Great Forge that rose in the distance.

A fortress unto itself, the Great Forge loomed on a rocky hill above the village of Cinder Mill, nestled within the roots of the rising mountains like a crouching beast that fed off the village's resources to create its weapons of war. A lone winding road led up the cliffside to a single gate that was securely barred against their approach, and any attempt to reach it with a makeshift ram had been halted by a hail of arrows from the walls.

Rolling gray clouds and cold rain gave the forge an all the more ominous and dour feeling in the hazy gloom, the dark silhouette of the fortress mocking him from a distance. Herleif looked away and turned his ire toward Lady Judith and her small legion, who had so far done little to aid him since their arrival.

"How many more must die before we get results?" he snapped at her.

Gathered with her Lion Flame Knights in a small courtyard within the tightly packed houses, Judith gave him a glance over her shoulder but did not reply. Instead, she kicked a headless body from the tree stump it had been slumped over, a gout of blood squirting from the open neck as it fell to the mud.

With a wave of her hand, she called out to her followers. "Bring us another!"

At her side, a crimson-armored Lawbringer holding a bloody poleaxe kicked a mud-splattered head toward a small pile of similar victims as if it were a ball. Two other warriors approached to carry away the body, dragging it to another pile of corpses in the corner of the courtyard.

Feeling his patience thinning, Herleif gritted his teeth and watched as Marcelo opened the door to one of the surrounding buildings and stepped inside with Ragnar. When they appeared again, they dragged a haggard-looking Pyre Knight between them. Bound and gagged, the traitorous Knight struggled the whole time he was manhandled over to the stump, only to be roughly forced to his knees in the mud.

Leaning down, Judith pulled the gag from the Knight's mouth and tossed it away. "Now, listen closely and you might just live. Tell us where-"

"Go fuck yourself!" snarled the cultist, glaring up at Judith with bright, feral eyes. He tried to sit up straight, but Ragnar just kicked him down again, face smacking against the blood-stained stump with a sharp thwack. The man grunted, spit flying from his lips, but his anger seemed no less subdued. "This is a hero's death. A righteous death! My devotion to God's fire has earned me my place in paradise... I will tell you nothing!"

Judith nodded, and the Lawbringer braced his feet and slowly lowered his weapon, lining up the sharp edge along the prisoner's neck. "Your deceitful leaders have led you astray," she said to the man, her voice calm but firm, "The volcano is nothing more than a rising mountain. Just rock, fire, and smoke. It is one of God's mighty creations, not his earthly power, and your misguided devotion has brought nothing but death to our people."

The man swallowed hard under the blade of the Lawbringer's axe. "The volcano brings death," he began with a laugh, a weak, trembling sound that slowly grew more hysterical, "and life. God will deliver us from your wicked blasphemy with fire, and from the ashes of your bones our great kingdom will rise anew!"

"Tell us how to get into the forge!" Judith demanded, "Where are the people of this village? Are they inside? If you are to save even one shred of your wretched soul, do so now and aid us in rescuing them. Tell us!"

"My soul is pure!" laughed the Pyre Knight, "The volcano wills it!"

Herleif gave a deep sigh as he watched, knowing that this would gain them nothing. There was no dealing with these fanatics. The war they fought was against more than just fortresses and men; it was against belief as well. It would be no simple thing to gain victory with steel alone.

The sound of approaching footsteps caught his attention, and he looked to see Gunnar appear through an alley and approach. His brother gave a wary glance toward the scene unfolding before them and leaned in close to speak quietly in his ear.

"This still going on, then?" he muttered. Herleif shot him a disgruntled look, and Gunnar got on to the point. "He is at the gate."

This news did nothing to improve Herleif's mood. His goal of eliminating the Divine Pyre force at their backs had stalled completely, having marched his warriors up the road of hanging bodies only to find Cinder Mill nearly empty. There was not a single farmer, shopkeeper, or beggar to be found anywhere in the village. Only a small group of the Divine Pyre soldiers had either chosen or been forced to remain outside the walls of the Great Forge to hinder their advance, but they had been easily dealt with and rounded up to be interrogated by the time that Judith and her legion had arrived. Now he was stuck outside the Great Forge and the Pyre within with no sign of either gaining any ground against the other, judging by the number of heads rolling under the Lawbringer's blade.

"Enough of this foolishness, Judith. We are needed at the gate," he called out to the Warden commander, "Be done with this one and those that are left. They will give us nothing of worth." He frowned one last time at the crazed prisoner, then turned to follow Gunnar out of the yard. "This whole thing has been a waste of time."

Judith gave him a nod and waved her hand to the Lawbringer. A few of her Knights were already stepping back into the house where the rest of the prisoners were being kept, gagged screams following before they were abruptly silenced. The courtyard soon emptied as the Lion Flame went to join their northern allies at the gate. Still, the Pyre Knight chanted on, determined to preach his heretical message to the very end.

"You will all burn in God's fire! The volcano will be your doom!" he cried with demented glee.

Nobody stopped to listen. The Lawbringer lifted his poleaxe into the air, holding the blood-stained blade high above his head.

"The volcano wills it!" shouted the cultist triumphantly, "The volcano wills it! The volcano wills it! The volcano-"

Cinder Mill was an old village, one that had seen its share of battles and destruction in the past. Ravaged by passing armies or devastated by the unpredictable eruptions of distant Mount Ignis, much of the village had been torn down repeatedly, only to be rebuilt over the ashes. In all that time, Cinder Mill had changed hands between the forces of Ashfeld and Valkenheim so many times during the raiding seasons that it now bore the characteristics of both cultures in building its homes, taverns, and shops. An abandoned stone-built church stood quite not far from an empty tavern that strongly resembled a northern longhouse and the large windmill for which the village was named bore carvings and decoration of both christian and pagan design. A town of two worlds, it was a perfect example of the unending turmoil the wars of the Knights and Vikings wrought upon the world.

Walking through the strangely familiar town, Herleif made his way up the path that led to the barred gates of the Great Forge, his warriors stepping aside for him as he went. A barricade had been constructed a safe enough distance down the lane where they had been keeping watch on those enemies that appeared above the walls from time to time, watching them in return. Judith walked just behind him, with Marcelo, Gunnar, and Ragnar following.

"Who is this troll-humping bastard again?" Ragnar asked no one in particular.

"Sir Vincent Chaldeon," Marcelo answered, "Once a Lawbringer in service to the Royal Legion and now a commander of traitors and apostates with the Divine Pyre."

Ragnar nodded but scratched his beard and seemed to give it some thought. "So why is he more important than any other tinman we need to kill?"

"Because he stole the armor of Apollyon when he fled Ashfeld's capital," Gunnar answered, reminding Ragnar of why this raid had been started in the first place.

"Which is why Erik wants him taken alive," Herleif called back over his shoulder, "No matter what happens here today, we take this man as plunder along with whatever else we find inside."

"It is not likely that he has the armor here with him," Judith commented, "The priests of the Walled City would have taken it to keep safely hidden within their vault, along with anything else of value that they have plundered until now."

Herleif gave her a dismissive wave of his hand. "Any lord of Ashfeld is worthy of ransom. Erik thinks his wergild will fetch a fine price once this war is done. If he stole from the Legion Council, then they can pay for the pleasure of taking their revenge. First, though, we shall find out what secrets he has to tell of the armor, the city, and the vault once he is captured. By blood if necessary."

The Bilrost warriors standing guard behind the barricade drew back to give them room when they arrived. Ragna and Helge were already there waiting, and Ragna playfully slapped the flat of one axe head against her brother's stomach as he joined them. Skuld stood stoically watching the gatehouse, and next to her, Coal leaned lazily up against the barricade while Priscilla had the audacity to sit on top of it as if daring an arrow to be fired in her direction. None of them were who Herleif had come to see though, and he frowned as he looked up at the top of the wall, finding it empty.

"Where is Vincent? You said he was here?" he shot at Gunnar, who simply shrugged.

Priscilla turned and glanced down at all of them. "He walked away not long ago. Must have gotten bored of waiting for you. He is a very important man now, after all."

Herleif frowned and shot a stern finger up at the Peacekeeper. "I am in no mood for any of your smart quips now. This stalemate has gone on long enough, and I have not the patience for it."

"Scouts are searching the cliffs," Skuld said smoothly, short and to the point, not taking her eyes away from the gate.

"And? Have they returned with any news?" he asked, far sharper than was warranted. A shake of Skuld's golden helmet was her only answer. "Bah! I want to know as soon as they return. Unless they can find us another route, we may have to wait out these mangy dogs until we can get closer."

"Like hell we are," Judith seethed, pushing past Herleif and stepping boldly up onto the barricade next to Priscilla. "Chaldeon! Chaldeon, show yourself!" Her voice echoed into the air, carrying her anger up and over the walls of the Great Forge.

For a moment, nothing happened as her echo faded away, but then, at last, movement was seen above the gatehouse. A tall Lawbringer, clad in polished golden armor that still bore the eagle of the Royal Legion embossed upon the cuirass, strode forward to look down upon the heathen army gathered before him. His face was hidden behind a shining helmet crowned with an ornament like an axe head, and he slowly gazed over them all through the single narrow slit in his visor. Flanked by two other black-armored Lawbringers of the Divine Pyre, Vincent Chaldeon gave a hearty laugh as he lifted his hand in greeting.

"Lady Judith! It doesn't have to be like this!" he called back, his voice powerful and booming, "It is not too late! Repent for your sins and give up these wild barbarians! Join me, and you will be rewarded with everlasting salvation in our divine paradise!"

"There is no world where you and I would ever be joined in fellowship!" Judith shouted back, "We did not come here to talk, Chaldeon! There will be no trial for your crimes!" She lifted her sword and pointed it at Vincent across the distance. "Just your execution!"

Vincent again gave a loud laugh. "Now you dare take the law into your own hands, Warden? Is it not your duty to uphold and defend the people of this once great land? And yet here you stand, making war against your own homeland with these pagan murderers and defilers!"

"Calling the kettle black now, isn't he?" remarked Coal behind the barricade.

"Be quiet," Judith hissed down at him before looking back to the wall, "Let us not waste time with useless words! All I want to know is where are the people of this village? I hardly think that even a man with a soul as wicked as yours wishes to rule over a land full of corpses. What have you done with them?"

"My followers are with me, safe and secure under my protection." Vincent answered, "A true leader does not punish the obedient unnecessarily but cares for them as if they were his own family. He watches over them. Protects them. Keeps them strong by culling the weak and the unfaithful!" With a wave of his hand, two more Pyre Knights appeared above the wall, clutching a struggling young woman between them. The woman cried out as she was pushed forward against the battlements, the two Knights holding her down against the stone. "So many have seen the greatness of the volcano's purity now, but still, so many more continue to resist. They cannot comprehend the salvation they rob themselves of by refusing us. By refusing God himself!"

The woman gave a shuddering cry as she tried in vain to fight back against her captors. "Mercy!" she wailed into the air, "Mercy my Lord! I will say the prayers! I will pray to the mountain! Just please let me go!"

Vincent gave a disappointed shake of his head. "As you said, Lady Judith. Let us not waste time with useless words."

"Vincent, stop this madness!" Judith cried out. Beside her, Priscilla shot up to her feet, and Gunnar gave a growl of anger. Herleif watched helplessly with everyone else as the crying woman was lifted up and tossed over the wall, her piercing scream rising in terror as she fell through the air, only to be abruptly silenced as her body slammed into the ground before the gate.

A shocked stillness hung over the road like strangling hands in the moments after. Herleif looked over the barricade at the motionless body of the woman. Dying without a weapon in hand was a fear that every Viking warrior lived with. Being murdered while begging for your life was a fate that would chill the heart of anyone, regardless of creed or belief.

"Devotion!" shouted Vincent, his mighty voice echoing and his gauntleted fist shaking in the air, "That is all that will save us from the heresy of the weak and cowardly! Ignis wills it!"

"Ignis wills it!" called out the other Pyre Knights in unison.

Herleif had seen enough of the Pyre's devotion now. While Judith remained frozen on top of the barricade, struck dumb by the abject cruelty displayed before their eyes, he would not simply stand by and cower before this disgraced madman.

"Get down," He growled as he climbed onto the barricade to pull Judith away. Taking her spot as the others helped her down, he stood tall with his shield in hand and drew Sólareldur to call out to the gate. "Vincent Chaldeon! I am Jarl Herleif Bjǫrnsson of Bilrost, and I have come to claim this forge for Valkenheim!"

"Aha! So the northern beast can speak!" Vincent returned with a laugh, "You have brought your warriors a long way just to sit outside of my walls! How long until Ashfeld grows tired of your savage filth plaguing her lands and decides and rises up against you, I wonder? I am willing to wait and find out if you are, Jarl of pigs and vermin!"

Herleif lifted his sword just as Judith had done before. "I did not come here to sit idle and grow old waiting! If you are truly such a great leader as you claim, then step out from behind those high walls and fight me! Let us settle this in the old way. A duel to the death for the forge and for Cinder Mill!"

"Why would we ever risk all that on one duel?" he heard Priscilla say behind him, but a resounding rebuke from the surrounding Northmen made her go quiet.

Vincent went quiet for a moment, potentially thinking over Herleif's proposal. "A tempting offer," he called out at last, "but I am afraid I must decline. Come and break yourselves upon this fortress if you wish, heathen. I have no desire to debase myself fighting the likes of you!"

"Coward!" Herleif roared, his voice carrying far off over the rising towers of the forge. "Níðing ass-licker! Come out here and fight me!"

"I tire of your mindless prattling. Stay if you wish, I have enough provisions here to outlast you and outfight you. With this forge I shall craft your destruction with steel and fire, and when I lead my faithful Knights from this place in triumph, we shall march over your arrow-ridden corpses and leave you to rot beneath the sun. God will always grant victory to the devout!"

With that, Vincent turned his back on his attackers, striding confidently away with his black armored Knights until the top of the gatehouse was empty once again.

Herleif gritted his teeth as he watched the power-mad Lawbringer go, then glanced down at the broken body of the woman before the gate. He cursed under his breath, then slipped down from the barricade. "We do not have time to wait him out. There is no telling what weapons they might craft and bring against us. The fight on the lake was surprising enough, and I do not wish to waste any more time here while Erik and Ivar march on Mount Ignis without us."

Judith still stood in a daze, leaning against the barricade, seemingly unaware of what Herleif was saying.

"That bastard," she muttered to herself before she slammed her fist against the makeshift barrier, "He will pay for this. By God, I swear I will see him answer for that woman's life. I will cut off his head and bury it in a pile of cow shit for what he has done here."

Herleif gave her a hard look and knocked her shoulder with his shield. "I said we take him alive. Kill the rest if you like, but the Lawbringer will talk before anyone takes his head." He was about to leave her to sulk when she reached out and grabbed him by the shoulder. A few of his warriors raised their weapons at her and the other Knights, but he quickly waved them away as Judith stared him down.

"What of the people he has captive? You saw how little he cares for their lives. If we make a move on the gate then he will surely have them killed in droves," she said.

Pushing her back with his shield, Herleif squared off against the Warden, looming over her, Jarl to Commander. "My concern is taking this forge," he said, inviting no room for argument, "Anything else can be sorted out afterward."

"You Vikings are all the same," Judith hissed, "You, Erik, Ivar... We came to you seeking help, but all you bring is more butchery." Her fingers tightened around the longsword she held at her side. "Do you have any idea what we have sacrificed by coming to you? History will damn us all for what we have done here, but it has been left to us to put an end to this tyranny while the rest of our countrymen simply sit by and watch. But what does it matter to you? We have no home to return to, no families to greet us with warmth and love, while you will all be welcomed back in Valkenheim as heroes!"

"Do not look to blame us for your civil war," Herleif retorted, "Our gods are many, and they guide us well through life and in battle. Your God pits you all against each other simply to test how far you are willing to go in order to obey his rule."

"My faith bids me to fight on behalf of others until my strength fails me, not murder and raid for righteous self-indulgence. Your quest for Valhall only leads you to sacrifice your life with no thought of leaving the world a better place, just a heavenly reward for making others suffer." Her words began an angry grumble among the surrounding Vikings, but still she went on. "Is that why you have come here? To die in this God-forsaken village for your own glory? Or did you come here to help save our people as you promised?"

Herleif gritted his teeth as his anger grew. The limits of his patience were truly being tested today, and he silently considered challenging Judith to a duel in Vincent's place. Luckily, Gunnar stepped forward and put a hand between them before it came to that.

"Might I interrupt this little exchange for a moment?" Gunnar asked cautiously, "The scouts Skuld sent out have returned."

Herleif held Judith's gaze for a moment longer, jaw clenched and face tight, but then he turned and stalked off down the lane. He was still fuming when the scouts came forward, but he had enough experience as a Jarl to know when not to let his anger fall on those who did not deserve it. There were three scouts in total, bearded warriors with swords and painted shields slung across their backs. They looked tired and dirty, each taking heavy breaths as if having come to meet him in a great hurry.

"What news?" he bid them, hoping for something that would finally make his day a little better.

One of the scouts grinned and nodded. "I think we've found it, my Jarl. A small creek that runs from a drain on the north side of the cliffs, below the forge."

The next man spoke up quickly. "We were able to pry off the grate covering it. A bit of a tight fit, but we managed to crawl in a ways down. It turned sharply into the mountain though, into stark darkness so we could continue no further."

"We heard rushing water in the tunnel, though it smelled foul," added the last warrior.

"Most likely runoff from the slag made during the smelting process." Priscilla interjected as she listened to the report from a distance, "This could be the outlet for the forge's drainage lines."

"Sounds like a foul route to take, but for now it is all we have," Herleif said. He looked at the scouts and smiled broadly, clapping the closest one on the shoulder. "Good work. Gunnar, see that these men are given some silver and some mead for their efforts." The scouts thanked him profusely as Gunnar took a pouch from his belt and began to dole out hack silver into their cupped hands. Herleif praised their efforts again, then turned back to the others. "So, we have our way in, but how do we navigate our way up into the forge and to the gate? A single drain will not see the entirety of our force inside."

Priscilla jumped down from the barricade and stepped forward. "Send me. I will find a way up and get the gate open. My order trains their recruits in the sewers of Beaufort to see how long we can last in the filth and learn to navigate in darkness. If anything, it mostly just sorts out the girls who grew up privileged from those raised in the slums, but I feel it should be of help in this case."

"Priscilla, you know that giving up the secrets of any Knight Order is forbidden," Judith chided, speaking to her like a child who needed to be scolded.

Priscilla dipped her head apologetically. "Forgive me, Commander. Given the circumstances, I did not think it really mattered anymore."

The two women seemed to regard each other with a tense stillness then, and Herleif felt that it would be better if he simply cut in to ease the tension.

"You can regale me with more tales of your Sisterhood later. I have no doubt in your abilities, but this task seems like a tall order for a single Peacekeeper," he said, glancing up at the imposing cliff side of the forge.

"It only took one Peacekeeper to open the bridge at Dalborg, did it not?" Priscilla rebuked with a tinge of amusement.

"Indeed," muttered Herleif. The tale of the lone Blackstone Peacekeeper who had sabotaged the outpost at Dalborg and allowed Apollyon to lead her army north across the snowy valley into Valkenheim was well known among his people. It was a harsh lesson in never underestimating your opponent, no matter how small and harmless they might seem. "Still, it does not sit well with me to send you alone. We do not know exactly how many Pyre Knights remain within those walls, and if you are caught then there will be nothing we can do to aid you."

Coal gave a grunt and rolled his shoulders. "Guess our work is never done. You afraid of the dark, big man?" he asked Gunnar, thumping him on the arm and earning an amused grin from the Raider.

"Oh no. You two are not coming with me," Priscilla said quickly, "You do nothing but draw attention anytime I wish to stay out of sight. This task has no room for glory seekers."

Gunnar scoffed and shifted on his feet. "What? When have we ever caused you any trouble of the sort?"

Coal seemed to think it over, then shook his head. "No, she has a point."

Gunnar looked at him for a moment, then sighed and sadly nodded in agreement. "Aye."

Priscilla crossed her arms and looked back to Herleif. "Give me the Valkyrie. Their reputation as scouts and trackers is well-known all across Heathmoor. And the Shaman too. She seems nimble enough to crawl around in tight spaces for a while."

Herleif gave Skuld a questioning glance, but the quiet Valkyrie simply nodded in agreement to Priscilla's request. "Very well. We will pray to the gods for good fortune toward your success. It is up to you to get that gate open. Otherwise, we will take our chances storming the forge, regardless of who remains inside."

"Fair enough," Priscilla answered, turning back to Judith, "Do I have your leave, Commander?"

Judith glanced up the road towards the gate where a crow had landed on the dead woman to inspect the body. "If Herleif will ask his gods for help, then I will pray to our great and mighty Lord for the same. Go quietly and do not fail."

Priscilla bowed her head and lifted a fist to her chest, then motioned for Skuld to follow. She stopped before the Shaman, hands on her hips as she regarded the young woman lounging on a cart. "It seems you are with me on this one."

Helge sat on a wagon, idly examining some carved finger bones in her hand as the twin Berserkers stood to either side of her. "I think not." she said coolly, not looking up from her bones, "I have not the heart for it. But my beloved Ragna does. Her heart is bursting with joy at the chance. She will go in my stead."

"It is?" Ragna asked, turning to look up at Helge with a surprised and confused scrunch of her face. "I will?"

"The Voices say you will," Helge smiled, rolling the bones in her hand.

Priscilla simply sighed and gave a shrug. "Hardly my first pick, but at this point what does it matter? Come on, we need to get moving."

Ragnar gave a grunt of laughter, earning himself a punch in the arm from his sister. Priscilla turned to lead her new comrades down the same path the scouts had come from, only to hear the scuffle of movement and a muffled groan behind her. She turned back to find Helge gripping Ragna by the collar of her shirt and pulling her upwards against the wagon to capture her lips in a rather heated and passionate kiss. Ragnar backed off with a bemused grin across his lips while the rest looked on in stunned silence.

"Ladies," Priscilla spoke up, impatient and more than a little annoyed that she was being held up by an overly long and overly familiar fond farewell, "If you would please wrap this up, there is work to be done."

Helge released Ragna with a sharp gasp of breath, face flushed as she smiled down at her dazed partner. "Fight for her," said the Shaman quietly and then sent Ragna away with a playful swat to her cheek and a joyful laugh.

Ragna stumbled back to join Priscilla and Skuld; all smiles after Helge's parting gift. "What are you standing around waiting for?" she mused, quickly moving past the two women, practically skipping down the lane and bidding them to follow, "Come on, we have a fortress to conquer!"

Herleif watched them all go until they were nearly out of sight, then removed his helmet and pinched the bridge of his nose.

"Allfather, grant me strength," he sighed deeply, "Gunnar, leave a few warriors here on watch and have the rest stand ready behind the houses. If the Pyre sees us gathered here in force they might suspect something." Gunnar gave a nod and beckoned Ragnar to help him in gathering their warriors into position. "Lady Judith, prepare your Knights. We will move fast once the gate is opened. If you wish to secure the townsfolk trapped within, then I leave it to you. My focus will be on capturing Chaldeon."

"We will be ready," Judith assured him. She glanced after the departing women before asking, "Are you sure this is a good idea? What if they fail?"

Herleif sniffed and spat at the ground, then slipped his helmet back on over his head. "The Ásagrimmr has seen fit to bring us this far without defeat. Perhaps even your God has had a hand in our good fortune so far as well." He gave her a narrow-eyed glance before leaving her behind, making his way to help prepare for the attack. "Have some faith, my dear Warden. Have some faith."