Part IV - FIMBULWINTER
stand at the head and foot of the Altar, chanting in soft voices. In response to their chant a blue glow rose from the Altar to surround the warrior lying upon it. The blue glow intensified as the two chanted for several minutes, and then the Mage waved his hand.
Another warrior stepped forward, a long dagger clutched in his hand. As the Mage and Cleric continued their chant, he slowly raised the dagger high. With a mighty cry he plunged the dagger downwards, straight at the chest of the man on the Altar.
Engakai's war club flew through the air, striking the warrior full in the face before he could complete his blow. With an audible crunch the club crushed the warrior's skull and he collapsed to the ground, dead. Before any of the others could react, Snorri leaped from the trees and swung a mighty blow at the Mage, cutting him completely in two. With a look of horror on her face, the Cleric shouted a Word of Power, the first half of a lethal spell. Engakai's spear tore her throat out before she could complete the second word. Snorri charged into the group of warriors, hacking with his axe, ignoring a sword that plunged into his shoulder as he decapitated its wielder.
As the Cleric stumbled away and collapsed, the warrior on the Altar sat up with a horrified cry. Engakai knocked him from the stone with a single kick and plunged his spear down through his heart. Then, eyes blazing and howling his war cry he leaped into the whirling fray surrounding Snorri.
Moments later Snorri and Engakai, each bleeding from numerous wounds, were the only ones standing. Silently they surveyed the carnage surrounding them, and then nodded to each other. Snorri lowered his axe to the ground and stood staring out into the pine trees. Engakai moved around to the other side of the Altar and took up a similar position, guarding the Altar of Tyr, on the eve of Ragnarok.
Fimbulwinter: thirty months of ice and snow that herald the arrival of Ragnarok, the greatest challenge a warrior could hope for.
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