Erling Snake's Story

As the black crusader entered Takao Eguchi's animal skinned tent, he wiped the blood from his blade and looked down at the young Taiyou boy from the single eyeslit of his cylindrical black knight's helmet. The knight was covered in medium armor from head to toe wearing a black tunic over chainmail, with thick padded gloves and black leather boots. His entire face was masked by his visor, and on one of his shoulder plates was an engraving of a large S-shaped serpent entwined around a cross. The mysterious figure stepped forward into the tent, looking down at Lord Bruce of Essex before turning his gaze on Takao Eguchi who was now unarmed and unprotected. "What's this? You aren't the man I'm after," his deep voice growled from behind his visor. But the knight raised his sword above his head anyway as Takao raised his arms in front of himself and closed his eyes tightly as the long broad sword came slashing down at his skull. "Cla-cling!" suddenly metal struck against metal as Lord Bruce of Essex rose back up from his fallen state, putting his own blade between Takao and the man who was trying to kill him. Bruce would stare at the black knight with hatred in his eyes as he pushed the crusader's blade away before elbowing him in the side of his helmet. The knight would suddenly stumble sideways as Lord Bruce stood up between him and Takao, gripping his slightly shorter viking sword with both hands, blood running down his right arm from the painfully deep shoulder wound that the knight had inflicted on him.

"Takao quickly, take my axe!" Bruce shouted, refering to the small axe he had contained on the back of his belt. Takao had never really seemed to notice it before under Bruce's cape, but now that Bruce's back was towards him, the short bearded axe was standing out to Takao like a sore thumb. Whether the young man had been in a real fight before or not, he very soon would be as the black knight turned and swung his longsword wildly at Bruce's abdomen. Lord Bruce was ready this time however, deflecting the crusader's blade with his own sword before slicing upwards under the knight's armpit and slamming his pommel into the knight's forehead. The mysterious warrior would stumble backwards again, regaining his composure just in time to be ran through. Bruce of Essex would lunge forward, thrusting the tip of his blade into the black knight's narrow eyeslit before running his sword through the back of his head. The masked crusader would fall to his knees, blood rushing from the bottom of his helmet as Bruce placed a boot on the dead man's chest and kicked him over, removing his blade from the black knight's helmet. He then pushed the knight's body over with his foot, glancing down at the S-shaped serpent and cross on his metal shoulder plate. "Impossible," Bruce expressed with disbelief just as two more black knights in similar garb entered the tent, one holding a glaive-like halberd while the other had a morning star on a chain. Somehow the outer wall of the Norse fortress had been breached by Christian raiders looking to kill King Sigurd and destroy his Heathen kingdom.

But since there was no sound coming from the guards at the gate entrance, it appeared to Lord Bruce that someone must've secretly helped them breach the compound from the inside. The snake on the cross meant only one thing to Lord Bruce, that King Sigurd was now in grave danger, for the crest belonged to King Erling, a merciless rival Christian warlord who would stop at nothing to wipe them all out, even if it meant killing a few Taiyou as well. Lord Bruce and Takao were about to have the fight of their lives as the two other black crusaders split up inside the tent and surrounded them from both sides. It wouldn't be long before everyone else in the ringfort was aware of the infiltration. It couldn't have come at a worse time either, for there in the sky above appeared another strange phenomenon. The Soja, a mysterious looking ship sent down by the Taiyou had also just arrived. On board this large creepy vessel was Emperor Shimizu, himself preparing to wage war on King Sigurd's viking settlement. The guards protecting the outer wall of the concentric ringed fortress would gaze up at the skies with disbelief, the Soja's sudden appearance in the clouds distracting most of the Norsemen from the handful of Christian raiders on the ground, who only appeared to be looking near the tents.



Meanwhile, the majority of villagers and Norse settlers had once again collected in the Great Hall at the highest most central point within the ringfort as King Sigurd took up his throne again to hold a public discussion about the sudden drastic chain of events that were happening. It seemed that the battle scarred konung could never get one moment of peace in his own kingdom and it was starting to really bother him. In fact, he was becoming quite furious, growing ever more impatient and less kind to those around him. "Bring me my armor!" he shouted angrily, plopping down on his throne before a large audience. "Who in Hel's name do these people think they are, coming into my realm and trying to make demands of me? Don't they know who the fuck I am?!" Sigurd slammed his fist down on the table, so hard that the table would actually crack beneath his fist. "My Lord, you are-" Sigurd suddenly pulled out a dagger from his boot and hurled it across the room, sticking it into the ashwood beam beside whoever was talking. "I am Sigurd Ringtaker, king of the north!!!". He would stand up and pace around the tables, singling people out by pointing his finger at random individuals inside the hall. "Not you! Not you! Not you and not you!!! ME!!!" he roared furiously, his voice loud and deep, echoing throughout the great hall as people backed away from him in fear. "Now who gives any of you the right to undermind MY authority?! Huh?! WHO!!!" he roared again, retrieving the dagger from the wooden beam as he walked by it. "If any of you would rather be king, go ahead. Do you see that throne over there? Kill me, right here right now, and you can have it eh?" Sigurd stuck his arms out to the side and looked up towards the ceiling, closing his eyes. He waited patiently for someone to sneak up behind him and slit his throat, but nobody dared to try. This seemed to only infuriate him more as he squeezed his eyes shut, shouting as loud as he could. "WHO, WANTS TO BE KING?!!!" Sigurd's voice was like thunder.

After a moment of uncomfortable silence, only one person would approach Sigurd Hring, and only to place the king's battle crown above his head. "Every man here would give his very last breath for you King Sigurd, son of Randver, every last one of us" a gentle voice spoke to him. King Sigurd would open his eyes and turn around slowly only to see hundreds of men, women and children all nodding their heads in agreement. The man who spoke to him would place the king's breastplate on his chest and attach it to his body as Sigurd kept his arms extended to the side, looking around the room. In a short time period under his rulership, several Norse cave miners had been injured by Taiyou carelessness, some of the Skjalsson brothers had betrayed him by starting a war with them, a paid berserker had tried to assassinate him, and more tensions were rising throughout his kingdom that he wasn't even aware of yet. But despite the non-stop drama and Sigurd Hring's growing anger, the Iskjerne Vikings still understood and supported him as their leader. Several of them would stand up and place a closed fist to their own breastplates, saluting King Sigurd with the utmost respect. Others were now dawning their own chestplates and armor, or else stomping and tapping their spears on the wooden tables above the soft turf floor in a rhythmic melody and manner. This they all did to honor their oath rings, and their king.

A circle of young redheaded ladies were brought into the hall at that moment. They were all dressed in long white see-through linen dresses, being completely naked underneath with cat-skinned belts, feathered scarves and long thin white gloves, adorned with an assortment of jewelry decorated with raven feathers, cat bones and many colorful gemstones. There were five of them in all. Every one of them was still a virgin, and all of them were sisters, being born from the same mother. These five young ladies would dance barefoot in a circle around their king, mumbling and chanting amongst themselves in a song and language that was foreign to him, while one of them called upon the various Norse gods for help. "We call upon the spirits of the ancestors to protect this settlement, this kingdom and its people. Sigurd, son of Randver, high king of the north. May you be granted the wisdom of Odin, the mercy of Frigg, the courage of Tyr, the strength of Thor, the swiftness of Skadi, the winds of Njordr, the magic of Freyja, the eyes of Heimdall, the fairness of Freyr, the healing of Eir, the longevity of Baldur, the vengefulness of Vali, and the humor of Loki" the young fair maiden chanted swiftly and quietly, poking her fingertip with a needle before drawing a blood red Dagaz rune on the king's forehead to protect him in battle, specifically against any magical weapons or spells which might be used against him by the Skjalssons, who were known to follow Odin.

Meanwhile, around the time when Omar was in a gunfight with Takashi in Niihama City, something else was taking place deep down in one of the chambers of the Iskjerne Cave, one of the high ranking earls of Norse society standing all alone in front of the five Taiyou political leaders who demanded to see the king. They warned Jarl Evan that his people were at great risk, causing Evan to raise his head and glare at them quietly. Were they trying to help? Or were they trying to kill the king? Evan contemplated for a moment. "If you are lying..." the jarl paused, lowering his arms as he looked at Yukiko and Kamidake more closely. "I will kill you myself... Now follow me" Evan said with a slight nod, before turning to go pick up his spear and shield. But as he turned around and motioned for them to fillow him back into Iskjerne's cave tunnels, the Taiyou in the white robes would notice that on the back of his toolbelt, Jarl Evan had already had a magic weapon hidden behind him the whole time. It was a curved bone dagger made entirely of a single fang from a smilodon. It had been fitted with a pitch black gem, and the whole handle had been carved to grip with runic engravings all over it going even up the spine of the blade. The dagger had been gifted to him as a present, and Evan kept it always for backup.

Back up at the surface, within the clouds, other things were taking place in the sky. Above the planet's atmosphere, from a safe distance above Gaia's surface, an alien ship cast a dark shadow over the face of a daylight moon, something like a grey cloud descending from outer space, its occupants no doubt peering down over the Weargtooth Mountains to the Iskjerne viking settlement in the middle of its frozen arctic, where a hundred or more Norse guards gazed up at the sunny blue sky in awe, witnessing the shadow over the moon, which seemed to them like a bad omen. "Ragnarok!" one of the Norsemen shouted, for an old prophesy foretold that the black wolf Managarmr would one day devour the moon signalling the end of their world. Others called the dark wolf by another name however, Hati Hróðvitnisson, the warg pup of Fenrir the Famous, a monster feared by gods and men alike. It was at this time that one of the patrolmen noticed that a couple of the animal skinned tents were smoking. Someone had set the tents on fire, and it wouldn't take long to realize that there was a small band of intruders. The crusader knights had infiltrated one of the outer wall's many lookout towers, assisted with help from one of the guards, a Norwegian archer named Edill Skjalsson who had killed the other two guards on duty before sneaking the Christian raiders into the tower. Despite their appearance, however, and the fact they were wearing better armor, these were not crusaders. They were vikings. They were led by Edill's brother Erling Snake, a contesting King of the North who had slipped back in time in an attempt to change the course of history. If only he could kill King Sigurd, his empire would be complete.

From northern far, in, a deep chill seeped, to the bone, through the scale, up the roots. White pockets of fire erupted throughout- advancements made by those within and foreign tools come here for final rest ceasing to exist with a flash and bang.

As if the gods themselves were angry at this transgression of their divine order, a massive thunderbolt struck down out of the blue, destroying much of the Taiyou gear and production facilities in the dead of the night when the craftsmen were away from their posts. Miraculously, everyone would escape injury, but the guns and other tokens of Taiyou affection were melted into slag heaps or damaged beyond repair. Many crystalline powered weapons were not left to spare, too suffering under the wrath of who?

A lament was cried from the Bez Daha Trees to Saggitae, to Gaia, to anyone who could hear and would, that again did Eras breathe upon this realm; and would continue to breathe, continue to inhale their realm, continue to flex chaos and destruction, until Gaia drew breath no more.

In the midst of the Viking settlement at Iskjerne, among a group of tents, and in front of the great hall. There was a crackling of energy, a brilliant sphere of green light began to materialize, crackling with power, arcing with green bolts of lightning which leapt from the sphere, and into the ground.

Pops, and crackles of sound emanated from the green sphere of light, before the light opened up, forming a person sized silhouette of black within.

The person stepped forward, and there was an audible snap of sound, like the cracking of a great stone before he came into the full light of the sun, and the portal snapped shut behind him with a loud pop.

His hair was neatly combed to one side, thin, soft strands blowing slightly in the frigid wind of the Iskjerne bay. A shiver ran down his spine as the cold slowly seeped through his clothes, and into his skin.

The overcoat deflected much of the wind from his body, but the smell brought a brief wrinkle to his nose, the settlement was primitive. This was what the Science Ministry wanted to investigate?

Slender fingers moved towards the sword Tenchi, which was secured at his belt, it had been some time since he had tasted blood, but he would only act in self defense.

Pulling the wooden hilt free from his belt, he clasped it firmly in his hand, and looked up to the norse guards, and he could hear the commotion within the longhouse.

His eyes darted to the flaming tents, and he focused his will for the slightest of moments, igniting Sword Tenchi as a brilliant shimmering blue blade of light jutted fourth from the wooden hilt. There were raiders, wearing some kind of heavy armor. The Longhouse would have to wait, as Shimizu caught the sight of two heavily armored men entering a tent, was that a Taiyou inside the Tent?

Shimizu suddenly vanished from where he stood, flickering out of existence for a brief moment before reappearing just outside the tent, upon the heels of the two black knights that entered.

He stormed into the tent, and would be the first thing that Takao would see. Shimizu lunged forward at the first knight, the one closest to Takao before the Knight could react. He brought Sword Tenchi across the man's armored torso in a wide cleaving motion, sweeping the sword from right, to left. The Black Knight would have scant moments to react before the white hot blade of pure cosmic energy cleaved him clean in two in one fell, effortless sweep.

"Okurete!" The young man called out, and Takao didn't hesitate, kicking himself back as the young man turned to face the second black knight, the blue light of his blade glinting, and reflecting off the armor.

The young man who, to Bruce didn't seem like much, while Tall, the young man was a scant one hundred and sixty three pounds. He held the shimmering blade in the Hasso no Kamae stance. Holding the blade paralell with his body, with the hilt at chest height, the shimmering blade held close to his face. He kept his feet shoulder width apart, and watched both Bruce's, and the Black Knight's next move.

----

Quietly, Kayabuki and the Taiyou party followed Evan and his people, they knew that time was growing short.

Suddenly, a large object could be seen approaching from the distance. From out of the great chill came what looked like an avalanche from the mountains. A huge cloudy mist started to close in on the viking settlement as a large blanket of snow started to cover the area. It was a dragon ship, the largest one the vikings had ever built. Hrollaug had daringly sailed it down the mountainside and towards the bay area. As the ship slid across the blanket of snow, one could make out a crew of about a hundred or more vikings.

Sinfrost watched from a distant peak in the Weargtooth mountains. Great dark thunderclouds shot colorful lightning down in Iskjerne bay. He had felt the great shift, and the great chill, narrowing his black eyes at the scene afar. A foreign object loomed over the continent. Something was amiss across Ellaria.

Sinfrost, hatching just after the great Colossi were sealed away so long ago, didn't quite recognize the signs for what they were. He didn't hear the trees as they cried from the south, domain being of ice and water and rock. He stayed safely disguised as a rock formation, and watched.

Shimizu kept himself in the sword stance as he stared down at the englishman, but Takao could only stand by and do nothing, calling out the words 'Tennoheika!' and immediately prostrating himself at Shimizu's feet once the two knights had been felled.

"Kare wa yūjin, watashi no Tennoheika."

Shimizu briefly cast a sidelong glance down at Takao, and then he brought his eyes back to Bruce before the shimmering blue blade of light disappeared with a hissing sound, followed immediately by a popping sound.

The man spoke english, this brought a raised eyebrow from Shimizu, and he chose to answer in almost perfect english, lilted by a strange accent that was unlike those of the Taiyou who attempted to speak english. Shimizu's accent was closer to someone from Greece, or Rome who was speaking the Anglic tongue.

"Of course he knows me, I'm his Emperor." Shimizu replied, slowly bringing Sword Tenchi back down, and letting it clip to a small loop around his belt. "This settlement is under seige, and it seems our technology doesn't work here." Shimizu added, his words still in english.

"Your leader has some explaining to do, please; take me too him." Shimizu implored Bruce. "I see you have treated this man well, you will be rewarded for your efforts."

The arrogance was seeping from Shimizu's words like venom, he regarded these primitives with incredible disdain, but that disdain was well concealed by a veneer of calm, and even a reassuring smile.

In the sky a strange shadow, to the south the horizon was unnaturally bright- a white arc resting beneath the backlit forever-clouds.

A too-small blizzard formed on the neighboring peak. Sinfrost craned his attention away from the bay up to the sky. Something had changed about the position of whatever was beyond the clouds. After a moment's contemplation, the blizzard caught Sinfrost's attention.

A humanoid emerged. Sinfrost stayed exactly still, but wasn't exactly hiding.

Frendor could notice all of these things, perhaps. In the distance, far down in the cape, there was a small civilization, and a massive ship which had clearly torn through here rested below.

Sinfrost kept an eye on the newcomer.He wondered if this one was anything like the ones squabblng down in Iskjerne Bay,

Frendor extended his awareness to sense what kind of being was in front of him. A dragon, no less. He watched carefully to see what it would do. He prepared himself to create a defensive shield if needed, but the dragon appeared to be in its element, and Frendor was inexperienced with frost-magic.

Frendor whispered to the wind "Do you know this dragon? Is it related to one of the factions that I must unite?".

Just as suddenly as they came
The people of Ettonian were transported back to their own world. Perhaps it was the intervention of their own deities, the manipulation of some powerful wizard, or more fae folk shenanigans. Regardless of who was responsible, the Ettonians in all of their entirety disappeared without a trace. The only evidence they were ever there, is the town city of new Rouge.

Dibble peeped out from behind a mushroom and stared pointedly at the strange man, making his way closer in flicks of movement, until he was just about sitting on the guy. There was a squeak-like the sound mushrooms make in your teeth when you eat them- which was the small winged creature addressing the much larger man.

Dibble moved hastily, swatting at the colorful bug. Giants in the sky, humans forgetting common knowledge- and now the bugs, too?! Dibble knew there was something extra odd going on- what with the sky turning pink- but this was another level!

"Poison! Hoo! Dumb buggie! Man! Hey! Man! Hey!"

Dibble attempted to shoo the dragonfly off, completely oblivious to the tension of the men. Dibble squeaked out frantically to everyone about the mushroom, reminding them all in a flurry that these ones were not the safe ones.

Erling Snake whatevers.

Dibble sensed a great decline of spirit, and called upon Gaia to do something!He quickly flit over to near the ringed fortress. What was happening in the bay was horrible to a creature like Dibble. Humans were so confusing! So fickle!

A snow began to fall, for it was not Gaia who heard the call of Dibble but Eras. As the hearts of the vikings beat slower, so did time, a colder and colder wind blowing from the north harsh across the bay. Dibble curled beneath a mushroom, entering a deep slumber, the power of Zephras stronger than any mortal poison.

Time appeared to stand, the snow still in the air.

Meanwhile...

A flash of light.

A crack of thunder.

A kaleidoscope of reds, yellows, and purples exploded in a remote corner of the bay. The air shimmered as a tear was cut in the fabric of reality. Then, as quickly as it appeared, the anomaly vanished. Twelve figures stood in its place, wetting their boots in the freshly melted snow.

Ten were clad in gleaming metal armor and carried varying swords, shields, and maces that glowed with radiant light. A rokin, off to the side, was dressed in azure robes and carried a silver staff. The one in the center wore a cloak, the color of dried blood, and had a hood pulled over his face.

“We seem to have missed our mark,” Thabo said. “There’s some sort of temporal interference, so we have three hours until our deadline. Remember our objectives: find the offworlders - alive - and if possible claim the head of the instigator. If things go desert-side up, we have been authorized to use the L’takasa Protocols.”

“Sir,” one of the armored aryites, Mafsha, spoke up. “Do you believe that will be necessary?”

“We’ll cross that bridge when we get there. Let’s move out. Magus, do you have a lock on our target?”

“Yes sir.” The robed rokin said, holding a glowing sphere in his talons. “In the mountains. There is a large spike in psionic energy there. Shall we make the jump?”

“Let’s inspect the area first, but have the mass teleport on a hair-trigger.”

Takao peered his head out of the great mead hall to survey the bodies, this was all very strange to him, and he pulled his coat closer to try and stave off the cold.

The khroniktans cautiously moved through the bay. They ignored the cold for the most part, the minor enchantments in their armor staving off the worst of it, and inspected the deserted village. Thabo moved like a ghost, his boots leaving nary a trace in the snow or dust. Mafsha, sword drawn, poked his head into a longhouse and grimaced at the bodies.

“No wounds,” Thabo observed. “Weapons still in their scabbard. I don’t see any signs of a struggle, either. Either something killed them all at once, and quickly, or this was some sort of mass ritual suicide. Magus, are you recording this?”

“Yes, sir.” The rokin wizard said, gesturing to the orb floating at his side. “I am also detecting some strange arcane readings. There’s some sort of temporal anomaly… like a time stop spell, but it’s suffused into the atmosphere. I will do what I can to protect us from it.”

The wizard tapped his staff on the ground, and the arcanium orb mounted on top glowed with faint eldritch energy. A pulse of magic emanated from it, forming a transparent white dome around the party that kept most of the strange magic at bay.

“Sir!” Mafsha shouted, pointing towards one of the larger structures. “I think I see a survivor! He doesn’t look like any of the natives.”

“Must be our target. Approach cautiously and stow your weapons. We don’t need to spook him.”

The party of aryites, plus one rokin, slowly approached Takao.

“Hello!” Thabo said, speaking into a translator. “My name is Inquisitor Thabo of the Khroniktan Alliance. We have been sent as an extraction team for you and your Taiyou associates. We mean you no harm. Are there any more survivors?”

Snow bounced off of the Khroniktans as they moved through the bay, little frozen droplets spinning out into the air as if gravity had stopped existing. Zephras didn't seem to touch them so much as they were able to grip the rest in the bay. This angered Zephras. The bay grew colder.