Wednesday Sep 2014
This website copyright Maximillian Straker 2014. All rights reserved. No material on this website may be copied, reproduced, or distributed without the prior written consent of the author (with the exception of attributed quotes). All exerpts, stories, and blogs are works of fiction: all the characters, places, and events portrayed in them are fictional, and any resemblance to real persons, places, and events is unintentional and coincidental. Any and all advice contained within them is for entertainment purposes only, and should not be followed.
Read New Viking Fantasy Books and Novels
The Viking Apocalypse
Norse Mythology Odin Thor Valhalla Templar Knights
‘Nia, bring wine!’ Captain Bloodaxe bellowed from the battlements of his stone tower.
Nehalennia was down below, and took a moment to peruse her grandfather’s wine rack, which had been labeled Death Row, in red Norse runes.
‘Any. It’s all the same old slop.’
‘I bring this one with the lion.’ Nehalennia had been playing soldier in chainmail hauberk and helmet, and jingled as she strode two by two up the narrow stone stairs.
‘Hammer of Thor! A fierce young raider!’ Magnus nearly leaped out of his rocking chair, for his granddaughter swaggered like a warrior born to wear iron, while her pale eyes suited the helmet’s eye-mask like the sun the summer sky. ‘And here’s me a dirt-poor farmer with no loot to hand over…’
Nehalennia raised the bottle like an axe. ‘Hand over your gold or I’ll make you drink this whole bottle of slop!’
‘Gold? But I’m just a poor peasant with a few bits of copper.’
‘You’re not worth killing then.’ She handed over the bottle. ‘Drown your miserable life.’