Post by Cornar the Black on Jan 19, 2021 16:27:32 GMT -6
This continues, refilling the wine periodically until both legs of meat are nothing more than scraps and bone for the dogs. In walks a bard, strumming a harp guitar to a striking melody and singing a tune.
"When beasts of part come through the snow, only one will dispatch them with a single blow! He was born to a mum of small body, but this babe was gifted limbs of enormity! He's OUR JARL!"
The table slams their fists down and yell out in unison "OUR JARL!"
"King Cornar the Black!"
Another slam of the table and a shout of "KING CORNAR THE BLACK!"
"We feast upon this meal of plenty, to bid our jarl a good journey! To the Western world he goes to fight, bring honor upon his name is his mighty plight!"
The bard continues on with the melody in ths background while Cornar the Black stands and casts a mighty shadow through the room. A hush comes over the table, awaiting the word from their jarl.
"Tis true, this meal may be my last in this longhouse. A legendary feast it is! But just as my name has been spoken far and wide across the lands here, so too has it made its way to the land of excess. Vinland, where the bald eagle flies and the gluttonous folk dies. Upon those shores, I have been offered to battle in a fight square. So to the winner gets the glory, but a hefty sum of silver and gold, enough to give every man, woman and child here generations of wealth!"
The villagers at the table all slam their fists upon the wood.
"So tonight, live it up. Tomorrow I bring the very best across the whale road to the Americas. They will aid me on my quest to become feared throughout Midgard!"
A raucous response! The bard puts a foot up on a stool and goes fuckin' hard on the strings! The longship turns into a mosh pit of viking warriors slamming into one another with vigor and glee. And at the head of the table stands Cornar the Black, now sipping his mead with deliberate motions and squinted eyes. Two maidens walk over seductively and run their hands through Cornar's long beard, guiding him away from the longship and into a building behind. A fire is blown out.
The next morning, some of the warriors of the village have readied a longship for the quest. Cornar steps out from his home, clad in golden spiked shoulder pauldrins and blue and gold trimmed tunic. Upon his head rests a crown with six gems stamped into it, the golden body shimmering in the light. The rest of the village all circle around Cornar and his jomsvikings, the chosen few.
"On this day, do not write sad songs or eddas about the loss of your jarl. I will return, and when I do, it will be with a bounty unlike anything we have ever seen before. This set of sixteen men and women, psychopaths and star walkers alike, descend on a ring made of wood and steel to test their mettle against one another. Like the Gods of old, to the winner goes the spoils. The losers spat upon and lay in dirt. Look to Odin for guidance in my stead, and you, Viktor, shall sit on the throne."
A small dagger is unsheathed from Cornar's belt, it is ornate and decorated with the same jewel design as the crown. A large bearded villager steps forward and kneels. Cornar bestows the dagger to the man.
"Bid is a good voyage."
The band loads into the ship, Cornar steps aboard and off they ride.
Ferocious waves slam against the wooden underbelly of a viking longship as it sails the treacherous ocean. Shields line the hull, a vast lineup of men and women clad head to toe in leather and iron with oars in hand. And one man, a towering brute at the back of the ship, hanging onto the curled tail and shouting orders as he looks ahead.
"LAND!"
Indeed, in the distance the curvature of the Earth reveals a beach on the horizon. The ship's inhabitants all stop as they turn to catch a glimpse of this new land - and they are all stunned to see skyscrapers, motorized boats and a Ferris wheel. From the back, a bellowing voice booms across the boat.
"LOWER THE SAIL! ROW!"
A few of the vikings drop their oars and tend to the sail, lowering the blue and gold cloth in mere seconds, then sit back down and begin rowing like their lives depend on it. As they near the beach, the true scale of their journey begins hitting them. People on the beach with their cell phones out taking pictures and video. Sneers upon the faces of the iron clad as a news reporter rushes forward. Cornar is taken aback.
"Excuse me! Excuse me! John Thomas reporting live for Channel 69 news, it appears as if -"
A viking blows through the reporter with his shield, knocking him in a flip to the sand! Everyone gasps and steps back, the vikings all pull their shields out and form a wall. Cornar behind with a sword aimed.
"Retreat beasts, we mean no harm to these, the shores of the Angels. We march to the City of Sin, all we ask is safe storage for our vessel."
Everyone has their hands up and they step back, the shield wall moving forward and passing through. Cars speed by, squealing tires as they lock up from the brakes. These vikings out here looking like a weird LARP but they somehow fit in here in LA anyway, people flip them off as they drive by but nobody stops to see exactly what the hell is going on.
After a long foot voyage, finally the glimmering lights of Las Vegas are in the sight of Cornar the Black. Before they get to their destination, though, they must pass through the Bastard Lands, clearly a hostile environment with heads on pikes lining the perimeter. Cornar sends a small scout ahead to survey any danger. A clansman walks up to Cornar.
"Jarl, why not just go around? There is safe passage otherwise."
Cornar puffs his chest and looks down at the viking.
"We are vikingr, drengr. We go and take what we please by whatever means we please. These lands... please me."
"If the stories you told on the voyage across the whale road hold true, these are the lands of a Bastard Warlord, he is not of our concern. Yours is the one who lost his mind."
Cornar scoffs.
"Why not have a little fun on our journey?"
The scout comes back up the hill, shaking his head. He's out of breath.
"Unadvised, jarl. Their weaponry vastly overpowers ours. They have metal bows that shoot tiny metal pellets, it would rip our shields to shreds."
Cornar stomps, very much not impressed.
"Very well. We will cross the steel boat roads and make our way in without conflict."
And they do, they dip behind the hill and travel East to a passable road to get to Paradise and what a sight it is. These men and women just saw cell phones for the first time, the hotels and casinos are the things of myth to them. Cornar stops the horde with his arm, giving everyone ample time to look around them.
"By Odin's beard," whispers Cornar, taken by the city up close, "They said the City of Sin would dazzle and captivate but those texts were putting it lightly. Come, the fragile pyramid, that is our destination."
Indeed, the Luxor Hotel is on their left, and the bright lights and video screen come to life, displaying an ad for Black Pyramid Wrestling. On it reads the main event for the upcoming match. Cornar's eyes widen as his name is written and vanishes before his very gaze.
"Onward."
Cornar the Black leads his band of vikingr toward the Luxor.
