Asgarth the Invincible: Chapter XII

For many days Asgarth and his retinue galloped to the west, following the rocky coastline of the Nordic lands, the crashing grey-blue of the Endless Ocean colliding with the solid mass of the mainland, sea foam roaring heavenwards like fountains of water from the mouth of a terrible beast of legend.

Eventually they came upon the Swadian borderlands. Far off in the distance Asgarth did witness a village by the name of Gisim, a peaceful hamlet of farmers and milkmaids. “Behold, my bold warriors,” enunciated the great hero. “Our first moment of glory awaits!”


As one the heroic band galloped upon the unsuspecting villagers, slaying them left, right and centre, throwing burning brands onto the thatch roofs of their miserable hovels, driving the cattle from their pens, until the earth was awash with the crimson life-fluid of the peasants and the air black with the ash of their burning homes.

Truly a great victory, thought Asgarth after two days of pillage and death. He rallied his men, gathered their booty and set in hot pursuit of those few peasants who had escaped the slaughter and were heading to the mountains.

After some miles he rode them down and a brief battle ensued. At the end of it his men stood cheering and triumphalising over the prostrate forms of their victims, most of them still alive. “Bind those Swadian curs,” snarled Asgarth at his men. “We shall ride in glory to Castle Hrus, where I shall offer our captive slaves to Lady Kaeteli as a token of my deep and sincere affection. If this doesn’t impress her, I don’t know what will.”