Epic Battles

Ulfriksons

• Three Blind Mice

  

• slaying dragons

  Ulfrik couldn't take his eyes off the mound of treasure. Never in his long career of pillaging had he ever seen something like this. The normally stoic and disciplined warrior had turned into a prepubesent boy at the sight, his throat dry and his knees jellied. "I.." He murmured as Leofrik joined them. The glass raining down caused him to stop, and Ulfrik automatically the torch down and covered his head with his axe. He also reached for Madde's neck, jamming her face towards his sweaty pit to make sure her eyes weren't slashed. He wasn't very worried for her safety, but she was an extra pair of hands that could bring all this loot back to the Tether. When the rain ebbed, his eyes found the source and he gave Madde a shove, thrusting his satchel at her. "Fill it up with the gems." He ignored the woman afterwards, gesturing Leofrik forward as he strode into the cavern. Ulfrik: The smart thing to do was steal from this beast as quietly as possible, and then get the fuck out. That's what they did in all the old sagas. But Ulfrik was a proud Dane, and not a petty thief. He drew the black and white hilted sword, castrator, from his back. He set his feet apart near the mouth of the cavern, filling his lungs with air before bellowing so loudly it must've woken Thor from his sleep. "I AM ULFRIK! I AM HERE TO FUCK SHIT UP!"
  
  Madde was pretty busy trying to decide whether or not to just accept that she was going to die in that cave amidst all the glittery things, or if she should run out blindly and hope for the best. When Ulfrik grabbed her, she grunted again, her hands pressing against his arms. He smelled! She turned back to look at Leo when she was shoved forwards and her hands stuffed with empty sack. She hoped the other brother would at least use some common sen- Nope. The dryad sniffled as she'd shove whatever she could into the sack, gems, gold, whatever, she wasn't being picky at all. The woman only skirted around the edges of all the loot, taking whatever looked shiny on the edges before she'd turn tail and be running past the vikings. What they didn't know, though, was that if she got out before they did, they weren't going to see her again.
  
  Leofrik stared at the necklace of human teeth with an 'OSHITDUDESWEEET' expression. He also raised his shield high to protect his head from the glass, which would be a bad idea if it landed in his eyes. Daring to charge into the domain of the dragon - right before his brother decided to wake the damn beast up - he snagged the necklace then did a pussy dash right back to where he started, throwing it around his neck with a victory pump of a fist-and then Ulfrik decided to announce his presence. Rubbing the bridge of his nose with his free hand, he decided to join in wih his own rallying call, "AND I AM LEOFRIK OF ULFRIKSON CLAN!" Foam ran from his mouth to stain his beard as she spat, riling himself up. He looked like a rabid dog that decided to wear a cat for a hat.
  
  Sterne slid down, coiling down from the high eaves. Three flecks of filmy eye cracking open with splits of white, flaming spittle coloring the dripping of open jaws and steam. The descent was like that of a clinging serpent, long limbs extracting and drag the curtains of debris and fossils of smaller unsavory things long dead. One stretch of wings extended like the plaster of new tarp, one after the other. The heavy thing launched from place across the room and dragged itself down along the adjacent wall, making it's way down, smoke trailing in its wake. Slamming down and digging into the hard earth, burrowing down and shaking the earth, tunneling under their feet. The ground shook. Then beneath the two a sudden rupture from the gaping open of earth, coming up with wide open mouth...a fleshy cave to devour them with long rows of caged teeth. The dragon missed; belly sliding across from them.
  
  Ulfrik didn't know how to attack something that could go right under their feet. He managed to stumble away from the gap in the floor that opened in the shape of the dragon's mouth, and he was still in shock as Madde sprinted past them into the tunnel. The viking hadn't even known this was a beast before now. "What the fucks?" He hissed at Leofrik without taking his eyes off the jagged teeth. Then the dragon was moving again, and Ulfrik snapped out of it. He dove so one foot was on either side of the rupture, and stabbed down with the blade as Sterne slid past the opening with his vulnerable belly on display. "Come out and fight!" Ulfrik howled, maddened.
  
  Madde was most of the way out of the cave, sackfull of treasure on her back before a pang of -- what was that, compassion?-- made itself evident somewhere in her chest. Taking deep breath, she'd drop the treasure off just inside the cave, hiding it behind a rock, before she'd turn back around towards the are with the hoard, the dragon and the two Vikings. Poking her head in, she'd yell at them, "Vhat zee fahck are you doing? GET ZEE FAHCK OUT!" Scooping up a handful of gold she'd throw them at Ulfrik's head to get his attention. What was wrong with these two, honestly? She already had a bagful of treasure, so why'd they need to kill the thing? The chances of it coming out and into the open to get them were what... Nothing?
  
  Leofrik just barely dodged teeth, finding out he needed his family jewels more than the ones that lay scattered amongst the rubble and scales. "DO NOT WANT!" he yelled in a retort to Madde. Spying a fallen crest-clad helm and an even fancier rapier, he snagged two helms - tossing one at Ulfrik's head, and maddeningly throwing the rest at Madde, shield on his back and langsax sheathed to do so. He was not in a mood to run up to them when a slithering beast was slithering. Seeing the stomach lay in the open, he withdrew both shield and sword once more, and charged right up onto his belly, attempting to slam down with both his sword and shield, perhaps smashing or stabbing. Scales were pretty thick, though.
  
  Sterne missed the barest nick, it slithered under rock as if it swam amid kelp and rapid waters. The long flash of silver jutted down at his underbelly and the dragon mindfully arched around its reach. Another! Humans were so predictable, growing frustrated, a belly flip fell in order and another stab of silver came down between crags of rock. The beast was up and crawling out of the whole, head frilled with real gold, wreaths of jagged crystal in liquid colors like a crown of yellow diamond. Craning long neck; Madde was an eye sore! Flinging things of gold and flicker whipped by the bridge of horned ridges. Gurgling up a fiery belch, teeth clenched spilling with flecks of ember. Mouth wide, and a cannon's blaze of flame bolted out with the force of an armada's firing guns. White blaze hot.
  
  Ulfrik bolted after Leofrik, but he wasn't as fast as his brother. He had to take cover against a wall when the burst of flame singed his brother's buckler and body, although Madde seemed unhurt. "Get the fucks out!" He snarled at her, the veins in his neck popping. He was worried about Leofrik -- the heat had been felt even as far as Ulfrik took cover. Like standing directly infront of a funeral pyre. But he didn't have time to check on him, instead he ran at the dragon. The big Dane axe was heaved through air, turning shaft over head until it crashed towards Sterne's skull. Ulfrik was running behind it, attempting to actually leap at the dragon's side to mount it. This, considering how metallic he was, would probably be difficult.
  
  Sterne wriggled back, reeling legs in a backpedal method to recover ground. The sound resembling cracked china, the spread of a river of black marked the hard cowl-enimal. The left gold horn was splintered down the middle, a bit of point cleaved from place. Thick warm blood that had the metalic tinge of marbled color. It turned colors and sheened, the after blow butted allong the brow bone right above the partnered eye. Lids shut and black spines, tiny and miniscule covered the very thin veiny flesh there, turned over in obvious agony. Now belly rolling scales in along mounds of gold; metals and jewels raking and digging firmly into the thick plaits of tied scale, hardening them defensively and made his weaker underbelly gleam. Furious! White blinding fury! They were stealing his hoard and now this slim was climbing up the rolled red and royal purple layers. 'Never forget! Never forgive!!'
  
  Leofrik held his shield up high, prepared to take the brunt of any blow aimed at his brother. He was a tank of muscle, and was prepared to defend his sibling, life or limb. He had no worries for himself, and only cared to protect Ulfrik, and only him, considering Madde booked it out of there with only a touch to remind him of this. He did appreciate the thought, but now was a time to honor his blood ties. With langsax extended, he aimed to do a leap of faith, slamming his sword down into the dragon's eye if he could!
  
  Ulfrik had not only heard stories about the weak belly of a dragon -- he'd experienced it first hand. He took down more than one with a savage thrust to the entrails.. but they had been half of Sterne's size. The rocking back and forth as he rolled in gold meant Ulfrik could do little than clutch onto his side and be taken for a ride. He tried to reach his tender underside, sweating and panting with the effort, but didn't succeed. Instead, he hauled himself onto the back of the richly made beast, muscles straining with the effort. "Go for belly!" He bellowed down at Leofrik, tightening his knees and then slamming down his blade with a two handed grip, digging it towards his back. He was hoping this would, if it struck, make the dragon reel up.
  
  Sterne was on his back, teeth wide, jaws open with wiry snaps of purple black strings of ligament ropes snapping shut. Splurges of ruptured blood spurted out, a convulsion of congealed blood flood up and fountained from the open ball of eye. Splitting the sclera in two, the whites oozed another color liquid, warm and ropey. The roar was a bellow crackling thunder. Walls rattled and fell with shards raining, becoming a tomb of gold for either who would not live this. Wings spread and extended wall to wall, feet latched and lifted hold, the dragon used hooks along wing ends to curtail and slide. Gliding across the open cavern, wings tilted, Leofrik gripped into a leg-claw and held down, nails puncturing down in the belly. Scratching and pinning down with tons of muscle. Tossing the crooked spine now bent in pain...irate with Ulfrik as his rider. Sterne's belly bled with a lodged blade, the warmth there was open with pulsing networks and veins. Pumped overworked organs as red as fleshy rubies...pretty to look at and hot to the touch. A blade slide nicely between the black-crimson glinted belly. Lodged firmly by the viking man's jab. The dragon's maw dribbled a crystalline wetness. Salivating and teary eyed. Falling wyvern tears fell down and at the touch of oxygen and met at the floor, became diamonds.
  
  Leofrik roared out in pain as soon as that talon penetrated his gut, pleased for the fact he had yet to be eviscerated - he hoped to keep his entrails. "..B..BR..BROTHER!" he yelped, throwing his head back as he was pinned by the huge digit, speared pitifully like meat on a skewer. If only Madde was there! "..Help!" Leofrik has fallen and he cannot get up. It would really rain on his parade if he died there. Letting out a wheeze, he bit down hard as he raised himself up into a sitting position, only goring himself further - yet he slashed himself free of that mighty claw, staggering up with a hazy grin. "..FALL!" Skittering just barely over a diamond, he clambered up weakly on the dragon's forelimb, aiming to stab his other eye for good measure. He was also bleeding. A lot.
  
  Ulfrik was probably hundreds of feet in the air, soaring on a dragon that bled white and cried diamonds, and was glittering with gold. "FUUUUCK!" He screamed, terrified. A new phobia was born then -- a fear of heights. He could hear Leofrik below, but couldn't see him. Steeling his nerves, he began to crawl across the dragon's side again, stabbing his blade down into his glittering hide across his ribs area. He was doing it to give himself some purchase while dangling off the dragon in mid-air. "Balls!" He snarled as a warcry, and swung from his side and his grip on the sword, to grab at the exposed entrails of Sterne instead. It would probably sear his hands to the point of the skin cooking, but he gritted his teeth and attempted to loosen one organ loose from his belly. Not an important one, because he's not a doctor and didn't know what the fuck he was grabbing -- but something that would hurt a lot. Like a goddamn kidney.
  
  Sterne spewed a cloud of white misting steam. 'Sons of men, know my pain. Relish it, bathe in it.' Maw open and gutturally engorged with filled blood. The heat of it smoked and churned like lava white fire, spewing up a long stew. Hot blood slid down along the flooring and pooled at their feet, gold and jewels melted down into syrupy sheens of metal. Teeth chattering, maw numb. The hot blood trickled down, and sluiced along the veiny path of pain trained by these brute men's blades. Blade points embedded deep in red flesh and vulnerable parts; boulder sized gouges that had started seeping warm blood. But primes knew were he collapsed in the muck, wailing that fire-eyed Magrog himself could not make him move one more step. Wings raised and clicking spines along the ventral blades, cracked sparks of ignitable flame. Burst pockets exploded before their eyes with a spark and sulfuric smell and burning ash.
  
  Leofrik somehow defied logic and dodged all of the ash and brimstone, perhaps by doing a move that the Prince of Persia would be jealous of. Flinging himself into a wall, he dug his langsax in harshly to grab purchase, shield arm waving wildly at Ulfrik. "Upwards! We go!" he roared, manipulating his shield to cover his back. He wasn't up that high, and was in fact low enough that he got the chance to scoop up some fancy gold armor in a satchel, but there was graver things at hand to worry about than loot and sparklies. He was no magpie - he was a viking! Reaching to unsheathe his short sword, he hung there from the hilt of his langsax, praying silently to Tyr in maddening chants in his mind to not let him fall to death when the dragon was about to flip even more of a shit. Watching his brother just kind of 'chillin on the giant reptile's entrails made him less worries about his own body, so he flung himself down at Sterne with both weapons in front of him, aiming to let the impact carry the brunt of the blow into the back of his neck, hopefully penetrating the diamond-hard scales. He even let out his own battlecry midfall, roaring out, "ULFRIK!"
  
  Sterne coiled up defensively but not about to withdraw. Dragons no matter their wounds were hurt more by their unfettered pride. The sharp jutting cowl, the collar bone fringe of spine flared up at the throat, a protection, a last convienence. The blades smashed down, weakening and shattering them to bits of gold. Shards of splintered mock diamond and ooze of royal colors...a hysteria of purple and gleaming warps of oily smear; color that splashed the wall and sent boney bits of cartilage painting the rock with sheen; entrails hung down and dripped like black tar rung from pig guts; eyes....those red eyes were both open but one lay rotting in its own soup. The crack of popping air bubbles twisted in the neck and the beast rear up, slamming in all injury, tunneling down before winding back up on its belly! His spines grew flat and lustered with black sleekness, where wings unfurled and kite hooked, jaws flushed open agape and wild thrashing to topple the still clinging Ulfrik. Deal with him first. Wings wide and soared too far up, right into the ceiling, again.
  
  Ulfrik's hands were cooking like a couple of sausages on a grill. They were already turning red, losing some of his fingerprints as he clutched a handful of intestines. Then his body bounced off the rocky side of the cavern, and he wheezed like a deflated balloon. His body was scratched, bleeding from a dozen shallow cuts and bruises.. but he hung on, griping that length of intestine like it was his life perserver. If it loosened or fell, he would hit the ground with a mighty viking splat. He panted and huffed, using the muscles around his torso and shoulders to swing his weight up, and at the last moment, grab onto something else inside the dragon's body. He squirmed his fingers inside his chest, like he was trying to pull the gizard out of a turkey. Except his sizzling fingers tried to tighten around the great organ of his beating heart, and twist it loose from the cavern that was the dragon's chest. "ULFRIK!" He shouted along with his brother, because that was their father's name, and it was his name. Maybe their gods would hear it, and be entertained.
  
  Leofrik was not going to let his elder brother fall to his death, at least not without his permission. He was glad he wasn't directly touching the magma that seemed to flow within the mighty beast's very veins. Raising his langsax high, he jammed it in between the scales on the side of the lizard's neck, only to raise his shortsword and jam it down a few feet away. Clambering like this without touching the innards, he scaled the beast until he hung on the side, somehow managing this while the thing decided to take off. Clinging for dear life to the hilt of one sword, he frowned at his short sword, kissed the handle for good luck, and flung it into the bowels of the beast, aiming for his heart. If the gods and their very father heard their cry, now was the time to show it.
  [#] Leofrik Rolls 1d8 and gets: 8 + 3 = 11 for strike to torso
  [#] Sterne Rolls 1d8 and gets: 5 + 2 = 7 to defend against strike
  [#] Leofrik hits Sterne!
  [#] Leofrik Rolls 1d20 for severity and gets: 13 + 3 = 16 damage
  [#] Sterne's HP: 1 - 16 + 3 = -12
  
  Sterne was not a fool. Perseverance above all, only twist-minds and thrill seekers hoped to gain anything. Too bad this human seemed no idiot as he concluded. A wing claw covered the spot where the beast careened to the ground, turning up with a climbing human walking the planes of black and bridges of wine; scales that ascended heaven. Mouth open with whippets of grotesque blood smears and black gored laceration. Turning the bow of his skull upwards, teeth glinting like millions of raining blades----SKLUTCH!! the soft silence of blade bee-lining, a coordinated arc, raking a pathway between nerve endings and congealed swollen organs. Inflamed muscle fiber swelled and hardened. The rain was thick and hawked up spittles of blood spray before bleeding out the color of black. The rivers of red and gold co-mingled. Spines turned down into wiry hairs, and every inkling of black spindle inverted. Colors falling in on themselves and drying out. Sterne paused. He could feel the sweat perspiring from pores...or the cool expel of hot steam from his open gut; split open and red. Spines of silver jutted out like wildly grown branches of a deadly tree. Every monstrous feature shrunken and paled down to a sickly colored mortal flesh. Still standing and the blade coming out the other end. Hands strengthened to grip it, and tugged...excruciatingly slow: "----ahhhh, it was fun." mouth full of blood and white teeth stained with that ruddy shade. He didn't talk for a long time after that; content to stand stock still. The color of black bled back into him, turning to proper tattoos. Sterne somehow, tugged the blade out and let it drop with a metal clang...careless to walk away, bleeding on his belly. He didn't get far, because he rolled over on his back, vomiting up splats of mercurial substance and bony bits.
  
  Ulfrik sprawled across the gold littered ground, bleeding and filthy after colliding with the walls. He could barely breathe and his hands were covered in first degree burns, second where the splash of blood had grazed his shoulders. He laid on his back, flexing his reddened and nearly fingerprintless fingers. "Mother the fucker." He murmured, and then laughed loudly as he heaved his aching body up. The dragon had transformed.. that was strange enough, but it made sense now why he had followed the man here and found a dragon. More important, he trudged through the glorious riches to find his brother, knowing he'd been more seriously hurt with talons piercing his middle. "Can you stand?" He scrutinized the injury, what he could see of it through Leofrik's armor, and crouched down next to his brother. "You did goods."
  
  Leofrik lay flat on his back, his sword just out of reach. Unfortunately for the berserker, he wore no chest piece for this fight, so there was a solid hole going through chest and exiting somewhere on his back. During the battle it had been nicely seared by the hot steam and fire that Sterne blew, but beneath the burnt skin more damage lay. "..Barely," he muttered, leaning up on his elbows. He offered Ulfrik a weak grin, his hood lopsided. An open sack nearly flowed freely on his left side, all the loot he chose to plunder, consisting mainly of old, gold-lined scrolls, fancy gold helmets with horse hair crests, and rapiers with gold cloth. And as many stupid baubles as he could fit. He was a simple man. He enjoyed shiny objects, in particular those that had to do with trading.
  
  Ulfrik was worried about his brother.. but he also wanted to fill his pockets. "We must leave now." He nodded up at the ceiling, which had shaken flecks of glass before and probably wasn't that sturdy at all. "Only bring what you can carry." He was speaking quickly in Danish for convienance sake, and made sure he tore a strip of his trouser leg free to wrap loosely around his brother.. before plundering. Yeah, they should probably go find medical help for that thing, but he was a viking, and he wanted plunder. He filled his pockets with gems, diamond tears, and gold. A sack of his own was filled with it, and Ulfrik hunted around for whatever else he could carry out. A strange white golden ringlet, that though looked plain, he still jammed it over his blonde head. He picked up a blade too, tucking the golden silver sheath under his arm pit. "Find his horn! I want that horn, to make into mead cup." He bellowed out to Leofrik from across the cavern, meaning that horn he'd torn loose from Sterne's head with prostate checker.
  
  Sterne saw a glint, eye narrowed and head turned. "You rightfully earned those...but I may come to collect what is due." He turned over and managed to trudge up to both feet. Now that this hoard was found, he would simply abandon it and move his networks elsewhere. Brows narrowed, he still bled. Eyes upon the blade that the mortal man carried, he earned this. They both did. "I now dub they sons of men...slayer of drakes, the great chieftains of slay. You are strong, I admire that." Coughing up blood, a woozy stupor, with head turned unnaturally...naked as the day born into the world on sinister night. Red eyes casting a glow. Was that the blade? "Ahh...that," Merlin who took what had belonged to him after he had summoned his aid to let Uther Pendragon sleep with Egraine and sire that bastard child Arthur slain of Mordred. "There drew he forth the brand Caliburn, And o'er him, drawing it, the winter moon, Brightening the skirts of a long cloud, ran forth. And sparkled keen with fro." Sterne muttered as he trudged along, leaning into walls and careening off golden mounds. Spilling coin and jewels as he went, wings slow punctured and slid down from jutted backbone and trailed a long cape to cover himself in: "...For all the haft twinkled with diamond sparks, Myriads of topaz-lights, and jacinthe-work. Of subtlest jewelery." Yes, if he recounted it right. Caliburn, a silver like no other. Time to restart, a fresh start. In pursuit of a new nesting ground. After, he would destroy this place so no one would come to seek the rewards. The man, wounded, disappeared towards the farthest tunnel entrance. And later? Well, later, he would be back to kill them.