"I, Grungnar the Dreamer remember well the horns, the clarion call of our warbands as they came pouring out of the forests. Men and some women, warriors all , charging forward in great triangular formations that would scare the horses of our enemies and let them get trapped like a fish closing it's mouth around a drowning worm. The wainriders had laid waste to most of our lands, but not without cost! Proudly I myself was spearheading the assault under the command of our prince and what a glorious battle it was, for all it's bloodshed! We had them trapped between forest and the River Running. Nowhere for them to go, but straight back and by the gods the fools trampled and ran into eachother trying! Ha! It was perfect, just perfect, however...
They were fierce and proud, many of them were there aswell! While their greatest strength, their carts and horsemen were being engulfed by angry spears and long axes we pressed our charge straight into the mass of their infantry! I can still feel the tremble of my shield as it connected with my first target! CRACK! His skull breaking nearly in half as the boss of my shield kissed his ugly face! A red painting was spilling over the depictions of 'Her' that I had drawn there the day before! My axe drank deeply from their blood, ate at their flesh and I roared out my bestial pleasure at hearing their cries of pain! My warriors hurled themselves full tilt upon these invaders and they well knew with nowhere really to get out in time, that fighting back - if bitterly- was all they were left with. The fear for the punishments that would lay in store for them in their miserable afterlives only heartbeats away! Hills of bodies would heap on eachother, their wounded would desperately try and reach out with their hands hoping not to be buried alive beneath their comrades!
Alas, even victories often demand the life of friends as sure as foes, for dying beasts that have nothing to lose are always the most fierce. I myself fell from a blow that sent my helmet flying to the heavens and my body went down! The cries of dismay from my personal guards were a dim sound and I fell among the many others that had this day. Yet I was not dead, no not yet atleast, my mind was ablaze and so my spirit refused to lay down and rest.. this is what I think atleast, ..
My eyes were reared up to the heavens and the sky bright and sunny was now black as pitch.. I could hear still the roar of men and the hiss of iron in the air,... yet my vision, it saw not the warriors that I had led, nor the despicable foe. I saw... great beasts, hungry, evil, ready to devour the world if they were let to be. Their size would be that of days when giants may have perhaps ruled this earth we live upon. Pets to even greater beings, yet intelligent in ways no mere beast was meant to be. They came in a tide of teeth and terrible was their speed.. Though not unopposed, .. for their charge was carried by a hatred to those ahead of them. I could see an old man, yet his steps were as spry like those of a youth and in his hand he held a great spear. Behind him also were many warriors, but something suggested that they had long left this world. They were calculating, strong beyond strength and even an Elf may just envy them for their beauty! The old man opened his mouth and a deep groan came out of his throat before he ran onwards. My eyes were barely able to follow him and his host was close behind.. sprinting horses could not have kept up and then... as had my shield done upon my charge.. the old man swung his spear with such terrifying power that the very air around him rippled! The host and the beasts fell upon eachother, earth-shattering blows were dealt and I feared as I lay there watching, that there would be no dawn after this clash. Only.. only what would be left was a torrent of music, carried upon a western wind. Nothing like it I had ever heard, not even in many a poem of warfare, or the battlesongs our people enjoy to sing during trials of life and death!
Either side laid such waste upon eachother, yet those that were felled simply vanished out of my vision. My very last sight was the old man, his spear piercing his foes with wild abandon.. and I could have sworn that for a briefest of moments he looked at me and mouthed at me saying, 'Sleep..' My eyes closed and the song of battle dimmed out of my ears. Then I woke up, it was morning, my loyal men surrounding me and I remember my first words to them. The same they were to you young friends. They were, "I have a tale to tell..."
Maybe one day, I hope, that I will be able to dream of something else.
