BTtNR - Book 2 - Chapter 015 - A Battle Worthy of a Boon (Patreon)

Einar couldn’t help but smile at how hard everyone had worked to put Osvif’s trap together.  

It seemed crazy, yet everyone had seen the results of the plans so far and with Tyr’s blessing, Osvif’s mind was running wild.  

“Think it will work?”

“Are you wanting to wager on it?”

Lyeneru shook her head before moving back to her spot on the wagon.

“No… with the luck of that one, I’m afraid I wouldn’t have a bow to shoot once we are done.  Still it seems so weird and yet so amazing.”

Both of them watched as the woods around them were almost moving with excitement.  It was as if the shadows wanted to lunge forward and charge, making a cry of some kind.

No monster ever said a word.  No sound came, but with no eyes or mouth that didn’t seem as weird as it could.

Both rings were prepared, two openings left so that they could move between them later and get outside them if needed.

Twenty yards past them, almost eighty yards away was a trough, filled with sap that had been boiled for a few hours.  Even now the air was filled with the sweet scent.  A few yards from the trough, three torches were dying out, casting shadows all around the outer edges of the clearing.  A mixture of tar, and sap was spread on the ground for about twenty yards.  If Osvif was right and the creatures came to drink the liquid he had prepared, a single spark should ignite the area and hopefully reduce them to ashes.

***

“More are coming!”

Einar waited, sending fire at those who were in the first circle of unlit logs.  Osvif hadn’t given the command and it was hard to trust as forty or more were now within the circle.

At least thirty of the monsters were fighting each other over the trough outside the rings of wood and still his friend wasn’t ready to tighten the noose.

“Fifty!”

“Now! Ring one!”

Without hesitating, Einar drew deep, sending flames at the inner circle, glad that either Lyeneru had counted fifty or just decided it was time.  Osvif gave him permission for the first part and flames began to grow, cutting off shadows as the fire encircled the camp.

Weapons were lit once more and the monsters inside began to fall.

As the flames illuminated the area, more appeared between the two circles, removed from their hiding place.

Elvish words were uttered behind and Einar kept up his barrage of spells, no longer feeling the immediate effects after having grown from practice and the experience.

“Ring two!”

Einar became a fountain of flames, sending balls of fire in a circle, each one exploding and igniting the prepared wood.

As the woods were bathed in light, only he and Lyeneru saw what lay beyond the second ring.

“There’s over a hundred… and that one is…”

She never finished her words as Einar turned and finally sent fireballs every five seconds toward the trap.  It was a writing mass of black bodies, all attempting to get to the liquid Osvif had figured out was key.

The first few spells hit creatures, not igniting the mixture prepared and finally the fifth one connected, and an oomph was heard as the flames ignited both barrels near the edges.

I’m glad to know that shadow walker blood was stronger than the smell inside.

They had used precious blood to hide the scent of the barrels and the liquid contained, using the fire and a wick.

Two large explosions rang out and liquid fire began to spread, igniting the bodies of all those nearby.

“Einar!”

Twisting his head, he saw the one both of them had noticed earlier moving with a purpose.  It was thirteen feet tall and unlike the rest it had a place near the top section of what would be a head which resembled an eye.  A single black eye.

One that stared at him.

“An elite is coming!”

He wasn’t sure if it was an elite but didn’t know what else to call a bigger version of all the others.  

It moved with a purpose and as it strode toward the opening in the outer ring, others began to join it, running ahead, pushing past.

Some were knocked into the burning logs by the rush that was coming.  They flipped and flailed around on the ground but none moved close to the others as a stream of dae thlibs wove through the outer circle toward the opening in the inner one.

“Protect the opening! We have incoming!”

Drawing upon his Wyrd, Einar sent a fireball toward the elite.

The black eye never left him and when the spell was halfway toward its goal the elite picked up two of the smaller ones and tossed them into the path of the spell, causing it to explode in the air, igniting both as they fell to the ground in burning pieces.

“Did it just–”

“Yes!”

Focusing on the approaching stream, Einar sent more fireballs into the flood of monsters.

The rings served as a choke point but he couldn’t cast fast enough and any that got hit were quickly tossed aside by the others, clearing the path for the rest.

Shouts came as the Vikings formed up, making a shield wall.  Everyone knew those shields didn’t provide protection against their strikes but together the warriors were stronger.  

“Help them, I got this!”

Lyeneru pulled the small fire that was kept in the metal container close and started dipping arrows in the solution before lighting and sending them into the advancing monsters.

Einar jumped down, grabbing the shield by the side of the wagon and pulled his axe from his hip.

“For Odin!”

“For Odin!” his warriors replied in unison.

Only half a dozen of the monsters were still alive in the inner area and his pack had left a few to deal with them, finishing up the stragglers.

Now came the hard part, resisting the charge of this force.

***

Blood flowed from open holes across their bodies.

Thorve was behind the wall of Vikings, doing what she could to stem the blood loss, healing one before moving to the next.

When one called out to swap, the trio of warriors moved as a unit, holding the spot, allowing their brother out while one took his place.

An hour passed and corpses littered the opening.

Some burnt, others tried to wiggle, stepped on by more shadow suckers as the Vikings held their ground.

One moment came when a worker brought the last cask Osvif called for.

She tossed as he commanded and when it broke over the horde, Einar’s fireball ignited them all.

Five minutes of relief came as the elite forced the others to clear that spot, more dying to the flames that easily burnt their bodies.

“Maybe sixty! I’m out of arrows!”
Varitan was between Geir and Starkard, using his swords to slash and parry while the two Vikings hacked at the never ending tide.

“Keep holding! We can endure!”

Grunts and a few cheers came from Einar’s call but everyone knew the truth of the moment.  If they didn’t, death would come.  No one would be there to resurrect them.  Their healer was behind them and if they died, she died.  

All years spent training, never quitting, even when exhausted were for this moment.

Everyone felt the exhaustion of swinging an axe over and over.  The loss of blood was something they couldn’t control, but their mind could tell their body not to quit.

Groans and grunts announced when they took hits.  Even Einar was feeling the pain of multiple injuries.  He had discarded his shield a while ago, now using two flaming axes to parry and strike.

Slowly they had to backup, giving ground and adding space as every shield they had brought was out of service right now.  Perhaps they could repair some later if they made the moment but now it was a battle of who killed who first.

Einar saw a flood of messages appear as the monsters died, all of them were ignored, each of them nothing but a distraction.  

His legendary rune had leveled up and he couldn’t focus on it, caught in a fight for his life.

Axes cleaved and sliced.

“Left!”

“Down slash!”

“Cross cut!”

Each viking shouted out their attacks, letting their brother know where the weapon was going, helping to avoid mishaps and work together to take out the horde.

“It’s coming!” Only twenty or so are left!”

Lyeneru’s announcement brought a roar from all the warriors.

Soon the battle would be over.  What they faced wasn’t pretty but every one of them saw the massive elite moving along the path, its body higher than the flames that had died down, that one eye watching them all.

Einar’s axes started to flicker and he panted.

“I’m out… I can’t draw anymore.”

He had hoped he could have endured more, yet none of them had believed Einar was able to last as long as he did.

Even with sweat flying with every swing.

Regardless of how heavy their breathing was.

A roar came from their mouths.

They moved closer together as a unit.

Victory was there.

“Ten!”

Axes swung, limbs were hacked off, dae thlibs fell.

“Five! Lookout!”

All of them backed up, opening the tight circle and going wide, bounding back about four steps.

The last of the shadow suckers stumbled over their fallen kind, onto the dirt that had been trampled, packed and trampled again.

Each warrior came, moving together, severing the limbs from the last remaining ones as the elite drove its fingers into the fallen body of two and tossed them at the warriors.

Dodging as best they could, they stumbled backward from the force and weight.

Hallad moved forward, absorbing the one that came for Osvif while Skardi met one tossed at him and Geir, hacking it in half mid air.

The boss lifted two more and as it did, a spear came flying through the air from behind the line of Vikings, striking the single eye.

Both hands dropped the two fallen dae thlibs it had picked up, and the elite slammed its own hand against the spear, snapping the wood, leaving the metal tip impaled inside.

No one needed orders or advice.  Each moved without hesitation.

Eleven Vikings and an elven warrior surrounded the elite, stepping on the fallen foes.

Axes, and a pair of swords assaulted its legs, causing it to stumble, unable to react as it fell, both arms outstretched to catch itself.

Over and over again weapons moved with a speed and power that hid the fact they had been fighting for over an hour.

No one at that moment felt exhausted. 

There wasn’t a tired warrior in that group.

Every strike contained the absolute maximum power they had.

[ Rune Experience Gained ]

[ Rune Leveled Increased ]

[ Your actions have earned the favor of Odin, Freyr, Thor & Tyr. ]

[ A wager was won about your battle. ]

[ A boon has been gifted. Each Rune Slot has been restored to its original undamaged state. ]

Einar stared at the notification that he saw.  He hadn’t ever suffered that kind of loss and so getting that boon seemed pointless.

Sounds around him began to register and turning, Einar noticed that each of his warriors stood there, mouths open, snot, blood and sweat running down their faces and beards.

Axes fell to the ground.

Each of them slowly looked at the other for a moment, all wondering the same thing.

“I’m healed…”

Everyone looked at Thorleif.  His broad shoulders shook as the man appeared to be sobbing at first.  

“I’m healed… I got a boon from–”

“Odin, Fryer –” Hallad said before he himself was cut off.

“Thor and Tyr,” Starkard stated, not caring that he had spoken over his friend.

“Me too!”

“And me!”

Everyone began to raise their hands, tears running down the hardened men's faces as they turned and saw that each of them had lifted it upward to the sky.”

Kneeling silently on the ground was Varitan, one hand holding the troll tooth necklace, the other lifted upward.

As the Vikings began to rejoice, hugging and slapping each other, getting even louder when it was revealed that even the workers and Thorve had been granted this boon, Einar made his way quickly to his elven friend and bent down next to him.

“What is it? What’s wrong?”

Tears the size of gems raced down his ivory cheeks and the elf turned, his green eyes quivering as he looked at Einar.

“Freyr has given me a boon…”

“What kind of boon?”

Shaking his head, Varitan shrugged.  

“It says to return to the temple and it will be revealed.”

Giving his friend a slap on the shoulder, Einar stood up and then held out his hand, yanking Varitan to his feet the moment he grabbed it.

“Thorve! Find us something to offer to the gods!”

Cackling came from the bald headed woman as she herself wiped tears from her dirty face, streak of blood and dirt running everywhere.

“Vikings! Gather wood! Build me a pyre! Tonight we praise the four gods who have healed our wounds and seen us worthy of their love!  We shall offer the elite to them!”

Cheers came and as one every person moved with a renewed vigor, grabbing the wood that remained unburned and quickly set together to form a pile.

A hand squeezed his shoulder and Einar turned to smile but realized something was wrong.

The hand slipped and he fell, blackness overcoming him.

Voices rang out but the darkness came, drowning out it all.