The air crackled as the fire gleefully claimed the village. The sky was filled with the orange glow of the flames, overlain by the thin mist of blood from the dying savages. The heat from the burning village was beating on the viking warriors like the sun hammers those who dare travel the desert. Savages collapsed all around Leif, their blood spraying from severed limbs and arteries and their screams of pain echoing in the hills.

The young warrior plunged his curved blade into the stomach of an unsuspected savage who was moving to attack one of the other Vikings. Leif brought his foot up and planted it along side his blade then hauled backwards while kicking out. The savage fell back to the ground as the blade pulled free. It took a minute before the savages slow moving brain registered that he had been stabbed and a few more seconds before death set in. His body jerked for a moment as blood poured from the gaping wound, then his eyes fell on his assailant and then they went dead.

Leif was already moving past the corpse. Seeking another victim but all he found were allies. His heart was hammering rapidly within his chest, adrenaline coursed through his veins. Surveying the carnage below his feet, he threw his arms over his head and let out a long, deep howl. Victory was theirs.

A loud crashing sound broke his warcry as one of the buildings within the village collapsed. Leif was brought back to reality and the heat from the burning village reminded him that he was not yet clear of danger. He sheathed his sword and quickly moved to the corpse of the first man he had slain, shouting as he ran, "The village is coming down!"

Retrieving the spear from the body he noticed that it had not been a man after all, but in fact a woman. The weapon had pierced through her wrapped breast and into her heart, her face was twisted in agony.

Spear in hand Leif retreated to where he had tethered his horse, another crack alike that of thunder echoed in the valley as yet another structure tumbled to the ground.

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