Snippet #2646131

The shock of the cold snow chilled Gunnar to his bones as he landed with a thump. The sounds of roars and splintering furniture echoed out into the night as he stood and brushed himself off. He shivered, the clouds parting to reveal the stars above. Scowling he threw himself back into the hall, looking for the warrior who had manhandled him. "Coward am I? I'll show that fucker." Hemming was nearby, bellowing loudly as he picked up a bench and launched it into a crowd of vikings, momentarily flattening them. Scanning the hall Gunnar was picked up again and slammed against a wall, the blow driving the air from his lungs. Recovering fast he saw a fist coming at him and twisted his head to the side, letting it go past him and crack into the wall. Gripping the arm he wrenched it two ways and felt a satisfying crack. Kicking his opponent out of the way he gave up on finding the warrior again and dove back into the melee.

Ducking under grappling warriors, Gunnar came across a shieldmaiden, shrieking as she was dumped in a barrel of mead by two burly Gotlanders. They roared with laughter, but before they could realise their mistake the shieldmaiden had lept up and latched her thighs around one of their necks. Twisting hard she flipped the man over and onto the barrel, which splintered and sent mead flying everywhere. Another roar of laughter split the air at that, and the shieldmaiden turned to face the man's angry friend, who swung a heavy fist at her. Dodging the blow she delivered a swift knee to the man's groin. His eyes went wide and he crumpled to the floor alongside his friend. Without pausing for breath the shieldmaiden grabbed the nearest warrior and kissed him forcefully, dropping him when she was done and shouting her battlecry at the top of her lungs.

Gunnar found himself back to back with Hemming, the older man sporting a bloody nose and a few loosened teeth. Around them were more than a few warriors from a rival village. "Still alive Gunnar you little shit?" Hemming spit a wad of blood to the floor. "I thought you'd buggered off and left me in this mess you started."

"Not on your life Hemming." Gunnar was thrilled with the exhileration. The men here were as keen for a friendly fight as any back home it seemed. "You always boast you can take care of yourself. I was just seeing if it was true." Hemming grunted in response.

"I doubt these bastards from Falthivr will let you escape without a broken limb or two. Your father won't be happy."

"Sod my father." Gunnar grinned and tackled the nearest man. Receiving a few kicks to the ribs whilst he was on the floor, Gunnar slithered between another's legs, slamming a fist into the man's groin as he did. Unluckily the man collapsed on top of Gunnar. Hemming, gripping one man by the throat and another held under his arm scowled and kicked the man on top of Gunnar over.

"Get up you slimy git." Hemming's words were cut short as the point of a dagger emerged from his side. Eyes wide in surprise he dropped the two men he was holding and turned as the dagger was withdrawn. Gunnar struggled to his feet as the man attacked again.