Asgarth the Invincible: Chapter XI

Once the forces of the Nords were once again victorious and Jarl Harald had once again ignored Asgarth, which was bullshit considering that Asgarth had just been knocked unconscious three times while trying to help him win a battle, Asgarth returned to the royal city of Sargoth to recover from his wounds. While there he was engaged in conversation by a drunk.

“You are Asgarth the Invincible, are you not?” verbalised the drunk.


“Aye aye, I am he,” confirmed Asgarth, looking him in the eye.

“I thought so!” recommenced the drunk. “It is much spoken of abroad how you aspire to the heart of the Lady Kaeteli. The best way to impress ladies, you know, is to give them presents.”

“Keep her blessed name from thy peasant lips!” stated Asgarth, drawing his sword and cleaving the drunk’s skull in twain.


“He may have a point,” he ruminated as the deceased’s dead body crumpled to the floor, lifeless. “I shall shower my love with the most precious commodity money can buy - people!”

Rousing his men, he strode forthwith from the crimson-stained floor of that den of iniquitousness. “Sire, whither do we ride?” enquired one of their number.

“We ride to the west!” trumpeted Asgarth.