The Vale
The Town,Currently
The large man sat alone in the once lively and raucous Hall. He had repositioned one of the benches that ran along the central table to sit closer near the narrow windows of the Hall, the better to watch the shadowy beasts outside. The rest of the benches and tables had been repurposed to serve as barricades, set up as obstacles he hoped would slow down and funnel the dark creatures should they succeed at breaching the doors.
Across his lap sat his trusted Battleaxe, Hela. The old girl was tarnished and scarred from years of battle, but he kept her blade as sharp as the day she was forged. Beside him he kept a lantern, the small light flickering, sending shadows dancing across the walls. His hope was that, should any of the monsters outside enter the Hall, the little bit of light he had would make fighting them easier.
He could not see the fiends outside. It was much too dark for that. But he knew they were out there, crawling, slithering into positions. He didn’t know how many, and he was certain he would die this night, but the fear of death did not bother him. What bothered him was the anger and frustration. Knowing that even if he killed a handful of the shadows now, it would not put a dent in their forces. That they’d still continue to rampage across the land, turning this once perfect paradise into a broken world.
As he sat, looking out the window, a dim light grew in the distance. The sun was beginning to rise. The shadows had not been able to enter this mighty Hall during the night. That only meant they’d try harder to breach his defenses today. He gritted his teeth, closed his eyes, and said a little prayer to any god who’d listen. “Whoever watches over me from above,” he whispered under his breath, even though he was the only occupant of the room, “grant me strength, guide my axe, and enable me to take at least a dozen of the bastards with me.”
When he opened his eyes and looked out the window again, he noticed something new. Strangers, approaching from down the street. But with them was the little gnome wizard, Birbin. They were armed, but looked out of place. Were they here to battle the shadows? To help him liberate his town? He adjusted his helmet, and cinched down his armor straps. Gripping Hela tightly with both hands he got to his feet.
If there was any opportunity to turn the tide in this town, this was it. Valmjr stomped to the front door of the Hall, turned his head from shoulder-to-shoulder to crack his neck, and then kicked open the door.
“Champions!” he yelled, thrusting Hela in the air, above his head to get their attention, “to me!”
And then no sooner had the man thrown open the doors, startling the enemies before him a bolt caught one with deadly accuracy, followed by a brilliant swathe of light that reduced several of the dark beings to nothing. Three of the beasts defeated, the rest stood around in apparent shock. It was now revealed, in the dawn and fading light of the magical strike, that the most distinct of the enemies, in form and appearance, on the north most steps was draped in long, loose robes and sat upon its hip a pitch colored blade. A mage, or the shadow of one, looked to Valmjr, then to the marksman Theodore; its wordless lips mouthed and suddenly the enemy seemed to regain their recollection.
The time to act was short.
@Cu Chulainn, @Gordian Nought, @Hekazu, @JBRam2002, @Rig
