This Alliance

Chapter 2: Promise

An: Real quick whenever dialogue are within boxes like these [] it means that it is a different language being spoken than what the main character knows. I can go back and edit these to their languages at another date. 

It was a clean cut through the neck and the head was gone. Blood spewed out of the wound like a fountain as the body fell limply to the floor. No amount of armor could save one from that. The warden swiftly shook off the fresh blood that stained his sword and looked upon the attack of his camp.

No burning tents. No weapons stolen. Not even little bits of coins had been spread about on the ground in an attempt to steal from the treasury.

He counted the corpses of the fallen soldiers and took note that few were vikings though none were knights. What was also strange about these vikings was their armor. Most of them wore chainmail over their chests and arms. So much for moving quietly through the border

"[Die!]"

A raider snuck up from behind the warden. He didn't revel too long in his realization, as the ax of the viking slashed as his shoulder. A painful groan escaped his lips. The weapon had left a gash on his shoulder. Crimson liquid colored his silver armor as the savage warrior took another blow. Parts of his chainmail under armor became loose as the links connecting them became broken.

The warden took up his arm once more and turned around to defend himself from the vicious warrior. Metal clashed together and glittering sparks flew into the air as the harsh impact nearly knocked the warden off his feet. His shoulder ached from the pain of the wound, Yet he still held his guard in such an attack. He had to. The raider stepped back after the unsuccessful attempt to kill him.

She growled in anger, her gaze fixated on killing this one warden. She spoke to him in a language he couldn't understand. Nor did he want to.

"[Your people belong in Hel!]"

She let out a menacing warcry and raised her giant ax over her head to strike at the warden. The warden gripped the blade with both hands and clashed with the viking woman's ax. Chips of wood splintered out and hit the warden's armor before they dropped onto the ground. With all of his might, the warden pushed the violent woman away from him. Before the viking woman could react any further the warden rammed into her shoulder first.

Of course the power of his bash was strong enough to knock her off her feet. She landed on the ground with a loud *thumb.* Before the woman was dealt her final blow she cried out something in her native tongue.

"[Knight scum!-]"

The warden gripped the sword by his blade and with his hilt, gouged the only crucial area that wasn't covered. The eyes. The enemy's sentence was cut short as she twitched violently in her death. blood flew from her eye like a terrifyingly beautiful fountain, gushing out .

When the woman finally went limp the warden saw this as his signal that she was finished. He forcefully removed the blade from his former opponent's socket and began to shake off the blood. The air was eerily quiet after that fight. No more did the war cries of vikings ring in his ears.

"Warden!" A familiar voice shouted behind him. The warden shook off the feeling.

The warden turned around to find a man in similar stature, but instead of a longsword in his hands and armor like his covering his entire body, he held a flail in one hand and a shield in the other. His armor only covered his shoulders, arms and knees with circular pads of metal.

The conqueror, inspecting the recent damage, stepped over the corpses of the fallen warriors of Valkenheim.

"Your shoulder's bleeding," the conqueror said in a dull tone.