Bjorn Ironside and his berserkers continued on their journey west through the Great Ellarian Forest, deciding to stay low beneath the ridgeline and out of sight. Bjorn peered up through the clearing in the trees, noticing what he thought at first glance to be a flock of birds overhead. But as the javelins came raining down upon their location, Bjorn's eyes grew larger and his mouth dropped open. It was an ambush.
"SHIELD WALL!!!" Bjorn shouted, his deep loud voice echoing off the nearby rocks inside the valley.
The berserkers quickly huddled together and raised their shields just as a barrage of spears came whizzing down at them from the sky. They were quick to react, but not quick enough as one of the berserkers was suddenly impaled through the neck by a javelin which pinned his body to the ground. Another berserker was impaled through his thigh as he tried to crouch down below his shield. He let out an agonizing yell as he hit the ground, holding his shield above his head with one hand whilst grabbing his wounded leg with the other. Bjorn Ironside looked absolutely furious at that moment as one of the javelins was deflected off of his shield while another one became inbedded in it, piercing through to the other side and stopping just inches from his face.
The berserkers were in trouble. As Bjorn and his men were preoccupied with the javelins, the Germanic tribes were beginning to descend over the ridge and down into the valley with them. Bjorn waited for the barrage to stop before standing up and tossing his shield aside. It was littered with spears and now too heavy to carry as the Viking berserkers grabbed their axes and prepared to engage their enemies in melee combat. If Arminius and his Cherusci wanted to fight, Bjorn Ironside would give them a battle worth remembering. Glancing beside him, Bjorn noticed a javelin stuck in the dirt. Gripping the shaft with one hand, he pulled it out of the ground and hurled it at the incoming footmen, hitting one of them in the chest so hard that he flew backwards as he was impaled, hitting and impaling the barbarian behind him as well. The other two berserkers charged forward, slamming into the whole group of barbarians with their shields and crushing them under their own bodyweight.
Bjorn Ironside then reached for his own Viking axe and began fighting. The injured berserker with the wounded thigh would wince in pain as he snapped the javelin in half and pulled it out of his leg. He limped to his feet and kept fighting, holding his shield in one hand and his axe in the other. The berserkers were outnumbered 39 to 4, and Bjorn Ironside found himself surrounded as he spun around with his axe, hacking away and deflecting javelins to both his left and his right. As one of the barbarians tried to jump down off of the ridge on top of him with a knife, Bjorn flipped the barbarian over his shoulder and slammed him on to the ground before stomping on his face, and crushing his head against the rocks. Bjorn Ironside was an absolute brute. As the eldest son of Ragnar Lothbrok, he was known to be one of the largest and strongest Vikings in the whole kingdom. The berserkers he had brought with him were no ordinary men. They were the best of the best, and the Germanic tribes were about to see why as the wounded berserker swung around, hitting a Cherusci warrior in the mouth with the edge of his shield. The man's jaw was instantly shattered as his teeth went flying off to the side along with his blood and spit.
Yet despite their best efforts, the barbarians kept coming. It didn't take long for the berserkers to get covered in the blood of their enemies. Each swing of the axe sprayed blood everywhere as limbs and javelins went flying. Bjorn's face was speckled red, his beard dripping with blood as he gazed up to the mounted equestrian in the iron mask, making eye contact with the leader of his new enemies for the first time. Bjorn's eyes were bright blue, but there was a hatred and ferocity in his gaze so powerful that it pierced through that iron mask and could be felt by the rider behind it. For a brief moment between killing people, Bjorn Ironside raised his axe and pointed it at the rider on the hill. It was as if he was challenging him or her to personal combat. Bjorn was mad with fury, and wanted to fight the Germanic chieftain one on one, before he quickly turned to confront another attacking warrior, deflecting the javelin that had been thrusted at his hip by the lunging barbarian. Bjorn twirled around him, swinging his Viking axe backwards and lodging it into the man's lower extremities from behind whilst simultaneously ducking and dodging another javelin that came aiming for his head. He spun around again and planted that same axe horizontally into the second barbarian's neck before letting go of the handle and letting him fall to the ground.
"SHIELD WALL!!!" Bjorn shouted, his deep loud voice echoing off the nearby rocks inside the valley.
The berserkers quickly huddled together and raised their shields just as a barrage of spears came whizzing down at them from the sky. They were quick to react, but not quick enough as one of the berserkers was suddenly impaled through the neck by a javelin which pinned his body to the ground. Another berserker was impaled through his thigh as he tried to crouch down below his shield. He let out an agonizing yell as he hit the ground, holding his shield above his head with one hand whilst grabbing his wounded leg with the other. Bjorn Ironside looked absolutely furious at that moment as one of the javelins was deflected off of his shield while another one became inbedded in it, piercing through to the other side and stopping just inches from his face.
The berserkers were in trouble. As Bjorn and his men were preoccupied with the javelins, the Germanic tribes were beginning to descend over the ridge and down into the valley with them. Bjorn waited for the barrage to stop before standing up and tossing his shield aside. It was littered with spears and now too heavy to carry as the Viking berserkers grabbed their axes and prepared to engage their enemies in melee combat. If Arminius and his Cherusci wanted to fight, Bjorn Ironside would give them a battle worth remembering. Glancing beside him, Bjorn noticed a javelin stuck in the dirt. Gripping the shaft with one hand, he pulled it out of the ground and hurled it at the incoming footmen, hitting one of them in the chest so hard that he flew backwards as he was impaled, hitting and impaling the barbarian behind him as well. The other two berserkers charged forward, slamming into the whole group of barbarians with their shields and crushing them under their own bodyweight.
Bjorn Ironside then reached for his own Viking axe and began fighting. The injured berserker with the wounded thigh would wince in pain as he snapped the javelin in half and pulled it out of his leg. He limped to his feet and kept fighting, holding his shield in one hand and his axe in the other. The berserkers were outnumbered 39 to 4, and Bjorn Ironside found himself surrounded as he spun around with his axe, hacking away and deflecting javelins to both his left and his right. As one of the barbarians tried to jump down off of the ridge on top of him with a knife, Bjorn flipped the barbarian over his shoulder and slammed him on to the ground before stomping on his face, and crushing his head against the rocks. Bjorn Ironside was an absolute brute. As the eldest son of Ragnar Lothbrok, he was known to be one of the largest and strongest Vikings in the whole kingdom. The berserkers he had brought with him were no ordinary men. They were the best of the best, and the Germanic tribes were about to see why as the wounded berserker swung around, hitting a Cherusci warrior in the mouth with the edge of his shield. The man's jaw was instantly shattered as his teeth went flying off to the side along with his blood and spit.
Yet despite their best efforts, the barbarians kept coming. It didn't take long for the berserkers to get covered in the blood of their enemies. Each swing of the axe sprayed blood everywhere as limbs and javelins went flying. Bjorn's face was speckled red, his beard dripping with blood as he gazed up to the mounted equestrian in the iron mask, making eye contact with the leader of his new enemies for the first time. Bjorn's eyes were bright blue, but there was a hatred and ferocity in his gaze so powerful that it pierced through that iron mask and could be felt by the rider behind it. For a brief moment between killing people, Bjorn Ironside raised his axe and pointed it at the rider on the hill. It was as if he was challenging him or her to personal combat. Bjorn was mad with fury, and wanted to fight the Germanic chieftain one on one, before he quickly turned to confront another attacking warrior, deflecting the javelin that had been thrusted at his hip by the lunging barbarian. Bjorn twirled around him, swinging his Viking axe backwards and lodging it into the man's lower extremities from behind whilst simultaneously ducking and dodging another javelin that came aiming for his head. He spun around again and planted that same axe horizontally into the second barbarian's neck before letting go of the handle and letting him fall to the ground.