Kolskegg felt the first subtle shifts of the earth. Hel was coming; she would be clawing at the earth in an attempt to escape her realm. The Viking knew the minute she arrived beneath him the battle would change as it must when the Goddess decided to intervene.  Shrugging his shield up he stepped forward, ready to slay the metal beast when suddenly something impacted the shield with so much force he believed that Thor himself had struck him with Mjolnir.

That impact struck him in the chest, knocking him down. The Cheytac’s specific built round had struck the shield. The supersonic bullet nearly expelling all of its kinetic energy in penetrating the shield had little left when it crashed into the mail armor.  Even so, the bullet hit with enough force to take the breath from Kolskegg’s lungs and knock him down. 

It was when he hit that the runic spell erupted around him with full force. A 6.5 scale earthquake, centered on the Viking and radiating out in a radius of 150 feet shifted the earth. The grenade, having been tossed with waning energies, slipped into a fissure, falling into the dark earth before detonating harmlessly. 

The turret and its operator would be shaken and disrupted from firing effectively any further. The ruins, those with old timbers and crumbled walls would begin to accelerate in one direction before a sudden snap and shift caused them to accelerate in the other. The stresses on these old physical structures would be too much to bear. They would fall. 

The ground beneath Kolskegg slipped and shifted and dropped him down a full two feet below where he had fallen. Touching his chest he felt broken links. These wizards were indeed powerful. Holding his shield before his face to protect him from detritus he marveled the perfect hole in his shield. 

[color=f7941d]“All-Father who ever these warriors are. Grant them your mercy and bring them to Valhalla where I may drink with them until the end of days.” [/color]

Slowly, painfully sitting up, the shield before him the Viking began standing gingerly as he watched the havoc that Hel wrought on the battlefield.  

[color=f7941d]“You are a magnificent bitch Hel. I am your humble servant.” [/color] He said as he clambered from the hole and began running towards the turret. Every step he took was on flat ground; while the shaking and roiling of the land increased the closer he approached his prey.  The turret toppled under the influences of the earthquake as the ground rippled and a fissure erupted beneath it. 

The one known as Powers was visibly trying to maintain his balance, his weapon struggling to line up a shot on the oncoming warrior. The ground beneath him shifted violently with the right foot suddenly thrust upward as the ground rose. When it stopped he was eye to eye with the Viking who narrowed his eyes a moment before saying something. The only word that rung with any sort familiarity was Valhalla. Then the blued sword was a flash and it was over, the blade had entered just above the chest armor at the base of Power’s throat and emerged through the shoulder blades as easy as a hot knife through butter. 

The buildings that comprised the ruined village were now hazards to any that remained among them as they tumbled and fell. The violent shaking ripping apart the foundations and the wooden supports cracked under the intense and sudden shifting of the earth. 

Kolskegg eyed the ruins, there was one more. There was the leader of this band. For none of the weapons thus far had penetrated the shield save one. A weapon of such power belongs to a hero, and that hero was who the Viking searched for now. The true fight was at hand, the heroes of their respective realms would now face off.