Viking Tale.

Confined in the cryptic wasteland 
Story written in response to the picture. Will continue writing sequels. 

Fog lingered passively over the inclement Norwegian dale marshland, nightfall was fast approaching and eerie swamp sounds were the only sound of life. Ominous clouds scudded across the sky, threatening to enclose all with their prodigious magnitude. Placid raindrops, gradually growing in strength, fell lazily onto the land.

 Suddenly the unambiguous sound of slushing footsteps could be heard vividly across the valley. A group of half a dozen men strode forcefully, with stretched slushy footfalls in knee deep water. Vikings. Stubborn hard-headed men. The group forged ahead for hour after hour, painstakingly wading through the cold water.

Their faces were pale and impassive; fearless, or so it seemed. At the head of the band walked a colossal beast of a man. He had a large, resolute face with icy blue eyes, a forehead engulfed by what appeared to be a permanent frown and a broad mouth with a plethora of glossy white teeth. It was alleged that his teeth were so shiny that he could lure a flock of Crows by merely smiling in their direction. However, all these striking attributes were dwarfed by his giant, red nose. His companions had similar characteristics and although less impressive, they would still bestow quite the fright upon ordinary folk like you and I.

However, one man remained who did not share his companion’s traits; he was a small, skinny, bony-faced man who gawped nervously in every direction.

“Abi!” bawled Gathum, the mammoth man. 

“A-a-a-ye Sir” came a vague reply.

 “How much further to this alleged glass case?” Gathum turned to the rest of the group and spoke in quite a sarcastic manner. “Not just any glass case lads; it is the house of a tree, a tree of which the roots are a woman, a supposed beauty. Legend claims that if one break the glass the tree will evaporate, freeing the fallen beauty. Our ruler - bless him - deems such tales genuine and wants us, his humble warriors, to obtain this beauty. Abi here claims to have found this lost prodigy, hence our presence in this wet wasteland”

 The group made no effort to obscure their displeasure. Then spoke the eldest of the bunch. Garda was short rather chubby with plump ears and beady eyes the most notable of his features. OI, Boss, can’t we chuck him to the lake, mon”… He never completed his sentence.                                                                                              

There it was: the glass case with the tree growing from it. And inside bound by the tree lay a woman. “It is true then” said Gathum, “Aye” emanated the mumble of disbelief from his companions. Gathum spoke again, “Kori, Kotkell! Fetch the hammers!”. “Aye aye, Boss” came the reply from the twins. “Gathum, come see this” The big Viking directed his gaze to his right hand man. Moldof was tall well built with long black hair. He had a straight nose, a copious beard and fists as big as sarsens.

 “What troubles Moldof?”

“Read here Sir,” Gathum read the words engraved in capital on the foot of the glass case.  BEWARE, THIS PRECIOUS JEWEL IS PROCTECTED.

 Wham! A gargantuan thud was followed by the sound of shattering glass. Kori and Kotkell had fetched the hammers and opted to destroy the glass. The tree evaporated and the woman was unbound.

Precipitously ascended terrifying sounds of growling and havoc. The water at their feet dried out instantly, the bucketing rain ceased. The uproar stopped abruptly. Everything was noiseless. Out of nowhere came the most lurid creatures, blood curdling beasts of burden. They were small, about the size of a pony. They had the face of a dragon, body of a lion and a tail with deadly spikes. They were upon the twins in seconds. Kori and Kotkell’s feeble efforts to guard themselves were hopeless. They were slaughtered in seconds.

With rapid nimble movements, the swamp waters returned.  The hideous creatures vanished. Sounds of eerie swamp life returned, once again drops fell from the dark clouds above. The remaining members of the group stood in silence. Abi fixed his gaze on the woman. She hoisted herself upon her feet and stood momentarily inert. With perceptible movement her arm raised, her diaphanous fingers transformed into a fist. Her index finger straightened. “What is she doing?’ Abi questioned in baffled conduct.  “Pointing” Said Moldof. Suddenly the glass case and tree flounced from the earth and repossessed their captive.

The Vikings did not dare to touch the case. Instead they opted to move towards the enormous rock the woman was directing to. Moments later Gathum noticed more words on the rock. He read it out loud. “Whoever lays hand upon the glass case shall perish. A great journey is required to unbolt the precious Jewel.  Begin, by finding the old man of the mountains”. The Group glanced nervously at each other. Each knew, what lay ahead would be the journey of a lifetime.

                       END OF PART ONE