The Fallen
The lamentations could be heard across the small village. The all too familiar dirge following an attack.
Again, they came in the night, torches ablaze, the light glistening off their ruby red bodies. Half the livestock was taken this time, and half the guard along with them.
Now atop their funeral pyres, their souls would be committed to Valhalla: Sven, Sigurd, Gisela and Fryg, as the townsfolk sang.
Lo, There do I see my Father, and
Lo, there do I see my Mother, and
my Sisters and my Brothers.
Lo, there do I see the line of my people back to the beginning,
Lo they do call to me, and
Bid me take my place among them in the halls of Valhalla,
Where the brave may live forever.
