Iskjerne Ulfhednar's Story

There was something happening among the Iskjerne vikings, as they now appeared to be in a declaration of war with the Ellarian barbarians, the Tartarian nobles, the Argosian legion, the Takayama shogunate, the Detente and many others. King Harald Fairhair seemed like he had gone mad, but in all reality, most were not wars that he himself had started. Rather, these were wars that Harald Finehair inherited when he became the King of Iskjerne Bay.

Granted, the Norwegian king had made an oath to restore Iskjerne Bay back to its native people. He fulfilled that oath with honor, giving the land back to the Iskjerne vikings by restoring their rights to lands, refurbishing Sigurd Hring's old viking settlement, replanting and rebuilding with communal assistance from the Iskjerne vikings themselves, liberating them from all foreign relationships, invasions, policies and religions.

That sounded like a good idea, but this was not to be the will of the gods. For whatever reason, the nature spirits didn't return quickly to repollinate the old settlement. Iskjerne Bay had also inherited a pestilence, a great plague of barren mounds and the feeling of death around every corner. Many were those who died performing legendary feats and engaging in heroic battles, and King Fairhair had also demonstrated a lust for power through xenophobic behavior. This behavior, however, did not go unnoticed. The gnomes, elves, dwarves, and other races were slow to repopulate and repollinate Iskjerne Bay, and the gods were unresponsive when offerings and sacrifices were made to them.

King Harald Fairhair had waged no war on the nature spirits, but it would take some time for them to return in great numbers. Fairhair did purge the vikings into a bitter conflict with the Argosian nation, the Taiyou city of Niihama, and the Tartarian Norman duchy. This perhaps had racial or cultural implications, and his total genocide of foreign affairs in Iskjerne Bay had only added to their complications. With the lack of goblins and ogres, dragons and giants, only the statues of the gods remained.

There was a slight breeze, low dark clouds hovering swiftly over grey skies, a murder of crows and large black ravens squawking as they glided down from their perches on the tower balcony when King Harald opened the doors to the large stone crescent patio and stepped out on to the balcony, resting his whole bodyweight against the stone railing which separated him from gazing hundreds of feet to his death. He gazed up at the rolling clouds and peered out towards the mountains, studying the direction of the black billows of smoke escalating from the sloping horizon. He knew that the great fire would not cross the Weargtooth mountain range due to the sparsity of woodlands and shelters.

As he looked down at the small kingdom below, he noticed two people walking slowly up to the third entrance of the castle, assisting what appeared to be two more people who had been wounded. It was Bjorn Ironside and the last of his own personal berserkers, the rest of whom had been slaughtered by Ellarian barbarians led by a Germanic chieftain whose identity was concealed behind a facemask-visored helmet. King Harald listened to Bjorn's venture to capture Duke Robert, as did Queen Lagertha who sat across from Bjorn Ironside next to King Harald on her throne, remaining motionless and listening quietly to her eldest son's exploits. King Harald was displeased to find out that Bjorn Ironside, even the large berserker son of Ragnar Lothbrok had failed to capture Rollo on account of the Cheruscans, Chatti, Harii and other tribes that had ambushed Bjorn's gang.

Harald Fairhair slammed his fist down on the arm of his throne seat and cringed. After a moment, he raised a mead horn and gave a toast to Bjorn's safe return, vowing before all of the volva and witnesses in the great hall that he would seek revenge against the Ellarian barbarians after their battle with the approaching Argosians. This didn't seem feasible, had it not been for the tone and manner in which he said it, for it was evident that the Great Ellarian Forest was burning, and that the Ellarian barbarians must have suffered many losses in their fight with Bjorn Ironside and his party of Iskjerne berserkers. Capturing the Duke Rollo was no longer a priority, but neither were the Ellarians as even now, the Argosian legion was already approaching the kingdom.



Bjorn's return was not celebrated very long on account of all the circumstances and mead shortage. Soon, everyone would return to their posts, and their plan to make their last stand against their enemies would resume much as before. Bjorn Ironside shared what little information he could about his venture into Argosian/Ellarian territory, but said nothing about his encounter with Odin as his eyes scanned over the leather map that King Harald rolled out over the round table in front of them.

It was a Map of Gaia...

Little did the House of Finehair know that the Iskjerne ulfhednar had already been defeated, but King Harald had never put much reliance on the front line to begin with. There were still Iskjerne hestuhar, svinfylking, kattrfylking and shield-maidens, specialized archers armed with the Tartarian crossbows they had seized, and many a berserker and war machine to deal with. King Harald was expecting the Argosian legion to utilize seige weaponry, and thanks to the great (although slow) progress of Iskjerne Bay, the vikings had some seige engineering of their own. Prepared for any attacks from land, air or sea, the Iskjerne vikings waited.

Meanwhile, to the far west of Iskjerne Bay and more southward towards the tropical regions of Ellaria, the Empyrean Norsemen had just launched a full-scale space expedition across the galaxy, and indeed, in an attempt to circumnavigate the multiverse using elven and dwarven alchemy, reaching for the stars. Things were not so advanced in Iskjerne Bay, where the lack of magic had been replaced by human strength and perseverance, and King Harald's "advanced" weapons were but medieval catapults and trebuchets made of simple metal, wood and stone. Such weapons were still magnificent, however, comprised of some of the most advanced human engineering that Gaia had to offer.

Human beings were a confusing lot, their human natures full of inquisition and unanswered questions, revelry and rivalry, and the chance for uncertainty. Here in Iskjerne Bay, in the midst of the Milky Way galaxy, pure-blooded human beings were still in existence, untainted by computers, tracphones and technology, without augmented repairs or simulations, threatened by entire space empires yet still remaining, 100% human, uninfected and unmutated by the whims of the goddesses of fate.

Gaia was indeed a remarkable planet. The mortal Iskjerne vikings stood in defiance of the gods, against time and space, and against the very spirits of their own innate destruction. One particular deity was Sigurd Hring, the native god and titan, who observed their offerings and sacrifices whilst subservient to Odin and the other more powerful deities who held him back from intervening in their human mortal affairs, even though Sigurd was being humble and modest, for Iskjerne Bay was his kingdom and not even the gods themselves could stop him from ruling it with an iron fist.

But the gods had made council, and the heavens themselves were of one accord, so that the Iskjerne vikings and their equally mortal enemies would be destined to battle without magic or luck, modern science or technology, and especially without the help of the gods. Ellaria's great forest burned slowly, consuming more and more of the enormous continent with every passing minute. There was silence and the cumbersome feeling of loneliness in that moment as the enemies of Iskjerne Bay neared closer and closer, bringing that same global pandemic with them as they approached.

But despite even all of the other stuff that was already happening, there was still more beneath the surface. Be it by some sacred vampiric ritual or perhaps a tumor of energy prescribed to dark magic, or the curse that had consumed the kingdom, the tumuli and burial mounds in Iskjerne Bay were not all lifeless and dormant after all, some of the skeletal bodies and mutilated corpses groaning or tossing in their graves. Unanimated, still dead, the corpses would not rise from their resting places... this was not a resurrection. This was merely a trembling, a subtle signature of things to come as the shores of Iskjerne Bay became more darkened.

White caps and waves started to approach and recede from the rocky fjords, as the unsettled and cremated spirit of Ivar the Boneless made its draugr presence felt, not upon the living but upon the already dead.

King Imar...

The new king of the dead...

Like the great world serpent, he emerged from the deepest darkest depths of the Great Ellarian Sea, his own tattered and sunken, burned and charcoaled funeral ship lying in abysmal ruins and broken pieces at the bottom of the sea. His own body had been turned to ashes, which now mixed with the soot and sand at the sunless sea floor, but King Imar had inherited his mother's and father's curse, being both the son of a famous viking konung and an equally talented famous witch. He had started as a false self-proclaimed mortal god. But now Ivar the Boneless was no longer a slithering half-paralyzed cripple. He was not even a physical person anymore, but his restless spirit had become a draugr, a type of Old Norse ghost, vampire or revenant.

Such was the situation in Iskjerne Bay that even the primeval forces remained silent, awestruck by the situation. Sigurd Hring would grin, giving testimony to his cause. King Harald and King Halfdan, and indeed Floki the Blind, were all now competing against one another in a freezing cold triangular war for absolution. Clearly the Iskjerne vikings had been outnumbered, outpowered and outsmarted by the Argosian army. But fate always seemed to rear her head as the vikings resolved to stand against them, continuing as planned.

"Gnaeus, fac eos hic prohibere." Reginarus said to his flag bearer in the lion-skinned pelt as the Argosian Three Legions approached the peak of the Weargtooth Mountains, following the cobblestone stairway over the rocky hump overlooking the distantly small but famous Viking Kingdom below. It was not as magical as it used to be, a shroud of grey clouds hovering slowly over the mountains, valleys and Iskjerne Bay itself providing a gloomy and dreadful, if not unwelcoming atmosphere for the observers. Signifier Gnaeus used his aerial telegraphy to make his legion halt as Reginarus remained posed in front of the army on horseback, looking down at the motte-and-bailey ringfort castle below, and the small scattered homesteads and shires just outside of its concentric wood and stone brick walls.

The air was freezing and the wind was crisp, but the army was undaunted. Reginarus had a thick and heavy fleece blanket wrapped around himself, beneath which he was fully armored over a crimson red skirt-like tunic and baggy black trousers, wearing plated torso armor, a neck protector, arm guards, shin guards, thick long socks and fur-trimmed steel fitted boots. His helmet sported a visored facemask which covered everything but his beard, and a crimson red plume of horsehair resembling a mohawk typical of the Argosian Tribunal style, looking like a Roman general in uniform but with a Nordic twist, being already more adapted to the very ground where they were standing as the Legata peered through her looking glass at the decrepit kingdom below.

General Reginarus didn't need a looking glass. Instead, he watched the Viking mercenaries in the wolf-skin pelts as they went ahead of the three legions, following their actual canine companions down the dangerous rocky hills towards the barren woodlands below using skis to navigate swiftly over the slick terrain. Reginarus looked down at his nameless horse and petted his cheek before whispering into his ear and dismounting him, grabbing his crutch and limping over to stand at the edge of a cliff, peering down at the tiny scattered villages around the open valley before him. He was still thinking about the shuriken he had seen Livia use to guard his back up in the mountains, and the other training he had received back on Niihama as he stood by, following orders while trying to formulate his own strategy. Once they reached the bottom of the mountain, the Argosian seige engines were erected into position, prepared to launch hell upon Iskjerne Bay.

Reginarus watched as the first volley of barrel-sized firepots were unleashed and hurled upon the castle before a second wave of firepots were prepared almost immediately afterwards while Livia ordered the ballistae to fire at the gate. There was a short pause and a moment of silence as they all watched the bombs fly towards their targets from a considerable distance away. Reginarus observed with an expression of curiosity and wonder in his eyes. A slight grin appeared on his face as he waited for the explosions and bursts of flames to appear when making contact with the unsuspecting savages and their fortifications.

A small band of Vikings on horseback were galloping quickly towards the gate, riding from the hills as the guards lowered the slow-moving drawbridge to prepare for their entry into the kingdom. As they rode passed the first gate, on to the second gateway and over the second drawbridge to the third and final castle wall, Queen Lagertha the Witchslayer went down to meet them, accompanied by Bjorn Ironside and the handful of guards they had brought with them. One of the horsemen quickly dismounted his large, robust Iskjerne-bred snow horse and removed his helmet as he approached the prince and queen, tucking it under his arm as he bowed respectfully before looking at them both with a hint of terror in his greenish blue eyes. "Pardon my intrusion sire, but it seems we underestimated the enemy. They are more numerous than we expected." Prince Bjorn stepped forward, placing his hand on the viking's shoulder. "How many?" He asked, not being much for small talk. "At least a few thousand, maybe more" the Hestuhar said, "and they are close now, just over the hills." Queen Lagertha rushed up the steps to stand on the curtain wall, peering out over the battlements between the crenels to the distant hills on the horizon, noticing the first sign of danger as the Argosian army started to appear from over the other side of the hills almost like a sunrise in the early morning.

King Finehair was also observing the horizon from his own viewpoint at the Keep, having a much higher vantage point which enabled him to lookout over greater distances to the kingdom below. The Vikings didn't have looking glasses, however, and as King Harald squinted, his naked eyes took a moment to notice the approaching seige engines and Argosian war banners coming up over the hills about a quarter mile away. Seconds later, he noticed the first volley of barrel-sized fireballs as the six flaming clay bombs were unleashed without any sound or warning, sailing through the open sky and appearing like miniature growing stars as they neared closer and closer to the castle walls. Livia had ordered a pre-eminent strike, preventing King Harald Fairhair from intercepting the Argosian army with his own trebuchets, which still needed to be adjusted, weighted, loaded and calculated. "Shit," he said quietly to himself, before rushing over to the edge of the Keep and shouting down to the vikings on the wall below.

"Þeir eru hér!!! Hljóðið stríðsbjöllunum!!! Tilbúið slingurnar og skothringarnar!!! Allir í skjóli!!!" the king bellowed, just before the first volley of fireballs came crashing down from the sky, tails of black smoke trailing behind them. The barrel-sized clay bombs would not all hit the same area. One of them went too far, sailing completely over the castle before exploding in the fields. Another one fell short of any target, scorching the earth just outside of the kingdom's outer walls. A third pot hit the wall itself, shattering against the brick and stone in a barrage of flames which rained down on the unsuspecting grass-roof sheds and storage houses below. The fourth pot hit a windmill, causing it to collapse as the napalm-like fire spread across its cloth sails, and the structure fell over as helpless Norse villagers screamed and ran or tried to get out of the way to avoid being crushed and burned. The fifth bomb hit the merlons on one of the round guard towers, destroying a tiny upper portion of the outer wall and causing some of the Vikings to fall beneath the rubble as the bastions fell, the stone walkway collapsing in on itself beneath its own heavy weight as some of the important keystone structures had been damaged. Queen Lagertha ducked to one side of the wall and shielded her eyes as the clay pot shattered nearby, some of the small fragmented pebbles and dust showering her hair from the damaged tower above as the Vikings scrambled to prepare their own counter attack.

As the sixth firepot hit a large dead oak tree, it set the wood ablaze. "Undirbúðu kennsluna þína móðurlausu skíthælar. Miðaðu stöðugt!!!" King Harald shouted furiously, pointing to those closest to him and barking orders as he flung his cape over his shoulder, walking back down from the Keep and over to one of the inner walls of the open courtyard. The Vikings quickly prepped their own large trebuchets and catapults, calibrating them and loading them with hay bales covered in oil and pitch, which they set on fire using long wooden torches and firesticks. The catapults they loaded up with wine barrels filled with oil, but these they did not ignite with flames. As the Vikings scrambled to get their affairs in order, the Argosians used their ballistae to fire massive tungsten bolts at the main gate. Fortunately, the heavy wooden gate was protected by a spiked metal inner gate and outer metal grating or sliding gate, being situated to a barbican or gatehouse which offered some temporary protection and reinforcement around the wooden gate itself. The bolts from the ballistae would smash into the barbican or get tangled up in the metal grating, denting the heavy steel caging and sticking to the walls, yet they barely managed to pierce the large arched wooden doors themselves. The gate still held.

The Argosians had positioned their seige engines up in the highlands at the foot of the mountains, which offered them a considerable bit of elevation and range advantage against the Iskjerne vikings, at least with their trebuchets. King Harald drew the ulfberht sword from his scabbard and raised it into the air, glaring in the direction of the Argosian army with hatred and madness. "Á minni stjórn!!!" He roared over the ranks. "Og NÚNA!!!" he shouted, lowering his sword and pointing it forward at their enemies. The Vikings had 3x as many trebuchets than the Argosians had brought with them, evening the odds a little bit as the Vikings suddenly launched their own unlit wine barrels from their catapults over the castle walls towards the hills in the direction of their enemies. Yet even with a dozen more fixed catapults firing simultaneously, their range would not be enough to reach their targets, instead landing just shy of the hills in the open fields in front of them, crashing down and shattering, splintering as they fell short of their target. Reginarus and his army stood still, watching motionlessly from their unbroken formations as the Vikings failed to match the range of their Argosian trebuchets. King Harald snarled, looking down to Queen Lagertha who sighed quietly, looking up at him.

But the three legions weren't safe just yet. Off to their left flank, there was a stirring in the small barren woodland forest behind them. It appeared that the Ulfhednar and their pack of wolves had encountered a group of Hestuhar who had been trying to ride around and flank the Argosians from their blindside. Since the Hestuhar were on horseback, and seige engines move slowly over rough terrain, it could have been an early devastating blow to the legionnaires had it not been for the wolf-skinned mercenaries and their canine companions. The wolves had detected the scent of the horses from the mountains and led the Ulfhednar right to the Hestuhar, and the Argosians could hear the distant howling, barking, screams and war cries, and the sounds of clashing weapons echoing from the woodlands at the foot of the mountains as the Ulfhednar and Hestuhar engaged in their own little side battle amongst themselves. Reginarus turned his attention back to Livia before mounting his horse again and awaiting orders.

Queen Lagertha ducked to one side of the wall and shielded her eyes as the clay pot shattered nearby, some of the small fragmented pebbles and dust showering her hair from the damaged tower above as the Vikings scrambled to prepare their own counter attack. Her hair was on fire, and she could feel the heat from the napalm-like substance burning the left side of her face. Quickly she reached into the pouch on her hip and grabbed her sheers, a pair of Castle Age snips or scissors forged by Iskjerne's greatest northern blacksmiths, using ideas and technology they learned from Raven-Floki the Wise before he left the bay and went to the red moon. Lagertha the Witchslayer had no options. Her face was burning. She grabbed the snips and clipped her hair instinctively, tossing them aside when it didn't work as she ran down the steps from the stone wall and stuck her whole head in the well bucket full of water. This still didn't work, until one of the witches walked up and grabbed her, throwing her on the ground and wrapping her in a blanket coated with methyl bromide, an organic substance produced by microorganisms that just so happened to put the fire out.

After a moment of silence, staring at the smoking blanket, Queen Lagertha arose from underneath it, looking more pissed off than injured. Her face was red on the left side, and the hair on the left side of her head was gone. She glanced at the kattrfylka for a moment, nodding silently in a thankful manner before grabbing the blanket and draping it over her own shoulders like a queen's cape, representing the House of Munso, albeit not in the greatest of taste, ordering her shield maidens to saddle up and prepare to move out. The uglarii with her quickly grabbed their weapons and mounted their horses, as a great horned snowy owl suddenly flew down and perched on Lagertha's shoulder, being a magical specimen only native to Iskjerne Bay from an extremely rare species adapted to the harsh northern climate. Not all of the uglarii were there with the queen, but those that were meant business.

Thorrun, Torvi, Snaefrid, Gunnhild, Helga and Ingrid were all shield-maidens. Rumor had spread that all of them were the wives of Bjorn Ironside, the queen's oldest son. But rumors had also spread that Bjorn Ironside himself was the biological son of Rollo, fostered by Ragnar, whose own father had fostered Rollo thus making Rollo and Ragnar brothers of the same house, and making Bjorn the bearer of a great honor, burden and legacy beyond what he often demonstrated. He stood on one of the walls overlooking the bastions, his berserkers holding their positions despite the barrage from Livia's seige weapons. Rooftops burned, banners were set aflame, and Bjorn watched as some of the older constructions in and around the kingdom started to crumble and break. A few farmers and scattering peasants scrambled to put out the fires with bales of water, but to no avail. Only the newer constructions made of stone and iron would stand against the napalm-like terracotta firepots. With the order of the king, Prince Bjorn turned to the guardian with the gjallarhorn and nodded. The ten foot horn sounded. It was made from the horn of an Iskjerne Cow, a female bovine which possessed horns like a bull. The low sound carried for over a mile across the mountains, and could be heard by the Argosians in the distance. Things were about to get interesting.



The Hestuhar had been broken into groups and divided up in order to cover a larger area. While a group of 25-50 of them were being held up in the dead barren woodlands, another splinter group of heavily armored juggernauts on equally equipped Iskjerne horses had been posted and waiting for the Argosians to pass through the mountains, counting on them to take the easiest path through the rocky passage to Iskjerne Bay, which they did expectedly. In doing so, they had avoided the hidden trail to the Rainbow Forge up in the mountains, where the Hestuhar were preparing a trap. They had disassembled the ten water mill wheels and rigged them with explosives, nailing large metal spikes along the spokes and spindles in order to create five devastating weapons known as the Wheels of Death, and as the Hestuhar heard the sound of the gjallarhorn, they ignited the cordite wicks on the five giant wagon-sized wheeled bombs and pushed them over the mountain slopes, allowing these giant devices to roll down the hill and gain momentum as they bulldozed their way through the Argosian columns, each one weighing over two tons of solid heavy wood covered with 4 foot cast-iron spikes, decorated with many simple leather sacks fitted with cordite wicks and filled with medieval powderless explosives. The bombs were targeted at the Argosian trebuchets, and the hundreds of armored soldiers positioned in their path, with the ability to run them over in the process.

Capitalizing on this sudden surprise attack from above and behind the Three Legions, the heavily armored cavalrymen charged down the slope after them, following their exploding rolling contraptions into the very heart of the Argosian advancement, using the opening caused by their exploding death wheels to storm their way in and cause confusion, hoping to split the Argosian Army into two. The other Hestuhar in the small barren woodlands were already clashing hard and struggling with the Argosian ulfhednar as one of the heavily clad horsemen was grabbed and dragged from his horse by a rather large 180 pound Iskjerne dire wolf, which shook the juggernaut around and mauled his face through the visored helmet he had been wearing just as a couple of the wolf-coated Viking mercenaries prodded him with spears, finishing him off by stabbing him to death through the weak points in his metal armor. Iskjerne Vikings were ruthless warriors, and the Ulfhednar would yip and howl, growling and hollering as they ran through the trees or scurried about on dog-pulled sleds, chasing the Hestuhar.



Titus arrived immediately afterwards, followed by another small band sent by Reginarus and led by Cassicus, who rode beside Titus into the fray. At first it seemed that the Argosians had the upper hand as they pushed the Hestuhar back into the woods, picking them apart one by one as they pursued them without mercy, seeking to kill all of them and spare themselves from any later retaliation. But the Hestuhar had been tactful, and King Harald had already developed an ambush that the Argosians had walked right into without thinking. Suddenly, another group of Vikings appeared in the woodlands, only these were Hornuglar, running on foot between the trees and maneuvering in such a way as to flank the Equites, having already prepared several traps for them in the form of pits, nets and snares, as the shield-maidens started making war cries, hurling javelins and thrusting spears at the Argosian cavaliers, using their shields to engage the Ulfhednar traitors in melee on foot among the barren woodlands while the Hestuhar regathered and pushed back again, clashing with the Argosian troops once more in a renewed battle for dominance.

King Harald Fairhair looked out over his kingdom, and the minor damage that had been caused by the exploding terracotta firepots. So far, everything was going exactly according to plan. His catapults had failed to reach the enemy, but they were never supposed to. The Vikings weren't trying to hit the Three Legions, they were calibrating the distance on their own trebuchets and preparing to strike back with precision accuracy. The shots from the catapults were merely being used to measure the distance and wind factor whilst simultaneously covering the field before Livia with flammable liquid, the shattered wine barrels having saturated the ground with oil that was just waiting to be ignited. But he didn't order the fields to be set ablaze just yet, instead ordering the trebuchets he had prepared to get ready for launch. But before he could give the order, another volley of Argosian fireballs struck the kingdom, this time taking out two of the eighteen Viking trebuchets in a hailstorm of fire and rubble as the wooden debris fell from the walls and towers, crashing into the stables and wheelcarts below and spreading more flames throughout the kingdom.

It wouldn't be enough to persuade the Vikings to surrender, however, as they launched their own 16 remaining trebuchets in a timed counter attack, hurling their own flaming claypot jars back at the Argosian legions with a fury they likely were not expecting. The fireballs sailed through the gloomy sky like burning comets, only this time the Argosians were not out of range as the trebuchets had a much greater pull than the catapults, and were much more likely to hit their targets. A third small gang of about 50 Hestuhar on horseback appeared from the open village ahead, charging out on to the battlefield in a full on frontal assault towards the Argosian front line, attacking at the same time as the Viking firepots flew overhead before them, acting like shock troops in combination with all of the unexpected explosions to further divide the Argosian ranks and cause more chaos, hoping to disable their organization and cut off their communications.

As the three groups of Hestuhar began to strike the Three Legions on all three sides, pushing their way against the front line and left flank while driving into their center and spreading outwards from behind, King Harald ordered the trebuchets and other seige engines to be reinforced. The Vikings wasted no time in sliding the large bromomethane covered animal skin tarps over the thick wooden mobile wall garrisons as they pushed them in front of their trebuchets, offering some layer of protection against the Argosian napalm bombs, at least temporarily. The Argosians had chosen to fight with fire, but that was to be expected from the massive billows of smoke they left in their wake. So the Vikings were now resolved to show the legionnaires how to be true pyromaniacs by fighting fire with fire, something that the Iskjerne Vikings had become rather notorious for in earlier years. The Argosians, who had started to takeout the Viking trebuchets, suddenly found their own trebuchets and seige engines being threatened by superior firepower and a handful of carefully orchestrated raiders who had lured Livia and Reginarus directly into an ambush.