Duel: Maximinus Thrax vs m_1512

[Scottish King]

Image courtesy of Radboud

Maximinus Thrax

vs.

m_1512

Gentlemen's Duel

Duelist 1

Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 

Excerpt from Ragnarssona þáttr (Tale of the sons of Ragnar)

"…and on the second night of his voyage into unknown, Odin the-Allfather granted Ragnar Lodbrok a vision from a distant future, as soon as the Jarl fell asleep onboard his drekkar.

At first, he saw a great island engulfed in flames so high that they reached the heavens, turning the pitch black night into day; thousands of longships were enclosing this beleaguered patch of land, while pouring endless hordes of warriors onto its shores. But soon, a thick mist gradually began to obscure Ragnar’s vision, and the island was now gone from his sight. Everything was so completely enshrouded in that mist, that it was impossible to distinguish any kind of object or being which could have been standing there. A shadowy figure of an old man clutching a spear emerged from the hazy background. Using the spear, he pointed towards his right side, a gesture which slowly dispelled the magical mist.

Moments later, a large, gloomy stone hall was revealed before Ragnar’s eyes, perhaps the main room of a foreign castle. This imposing place was illuminated only by the hellish light coming from the flames which ravaged through the courtyard and its surroundings, flickering wildly on the walls as it pierced through the arched windows. Wails of men and women alike begging for mercy could be heard outside mingling with savage shouts and commands uttered in Norse dialects. The crackling noise of the fire lurching entire buildings was so ominous, as if signalled the onset of the age of Ragnarok.

Seated on a gilded throne near the centre of hall, a grey-headed man¹ with his chin resting on the left hand was staring at a circular snake pit which lain right in front of him, where dozens of cold-blooded reptiles coiled themselves around a bleached skeleton. The golden coronet resting on his temples as well as the richly embroided garments alluded to royal status. A profound feeling of resignation emanated from his sullen countenance. Not even the desperate screams of the people getting butchered outside, or the murmurs of the remaining guards, who were visibly apprehended by fear, could have broken his state of absent-mindedness.

The four soldiers still protecting the throne promptly turned their full attention to the massive wooden door, frightened by the great commotion which could be heard throughout the hallway. All of a sudden, the sound of a massive battle axe pounding on the barricaded entrance echoed violently around the main hall. The door resisted only for a brief amount of time before the flurry of blows literally slammed it open...

Three Norsemen appeared on the doorstep, grasping their weapons while scrutinizing the room with some precaution.

“ÆLLAAA!!!”, an inhuman growl errupted from the throat of the warrior standing in the middle², succeeding in bringing the elder king to his senses. His frenzied eyes were burning with the power of a hundred fire giants, while the wolf pelts he wore amplified his beast-like appearance. Judging from the multitude of runic tattoos covering the torso and the massive axe he wielded as the weapon of choice, this progeny of Surtr was undoubtedly a berserker, despite the slightly skewed legs which could have hampered the overall mobility during the heat of battle.

The imposing berserker raised the axe in defiance, preparing himself to hack through the enemies. As he was about to rush forward, the companion on his left³ grabbed his arm, seeing that the guardsmen had already begun advancing towards them. Together with the other Norseman⁴, he threw himself at the opponents, while the berserker remained behind.

For a short while, the dark hall reverberated with the noise of fighting grunts, and of weapons furiously clanking or smashing through the wooden shields. One of the guardsmen managed to inflict a light wound upon one of the Norsemen, but he immediately got disposed of with a forceful sword blow, uttering a terrifying groan before dying. Another defender got impaled through the chainmail with a spear, being lifted high in the air before violently hitting the ground, a feat which forced the remaining soldiers to withdraw a couple of steps back. Worn out and completely outmatched by their adversaries, the two soldiers left to defend the realm succumbed quickly.

With the path to the throne now open, the Norsemen brutally seized the shaky king by the arms and forced him to kneel before the approaching berserker. After removing the old man’s coronet, the wolf-skinned warrior ripped it into four equal pieces. The king watched him with emotional breaths as he pulled out a sharp blade. While his two companions continued to keep a tight grip on the old man’s arms, the berserker cut his back open and removed his ribs from the spine, pulling the lungs out through the wounds, to resemble the bloody wings of an eagle. The unbearable agony was too much for the feeble-bodied king to endure. His executioners however seemed to take great pleasure from watching him grasping for air and spitting blood before giving his last breath.

“Our father is avenged!” the berserker bellowed after casting the corpse into the snake pit.


A deafening thunderclap in the clouds above abruptly interrupted Ragnar’s dream, while forked bolts of lightning blazed across the blackened sky, a sign from the mighty Thor himself. Heavy rain began to pour down, bouncing off the Norse longships. For days, the howling winds propelled the fleet westwards until it reached the shores of a mysterious island…"


¹ King Ælla of Northumbria
² Ivar "the Boneless" Ragnarsson
³ Halfdan Ragnarsson
⁴ Ubbe Ragnarsson

Duelist 2

Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 

Notes

I have taken some liberty ar inserting some extra notes in this entry to try bring the best effect of this (tale?) entry to the readers. You can find the notes in the format below.
(these wee bit are notes)

(A rough voice narrating, standing over a cliff.)
I sense the call. I feel it in the air, howling, as it blows towards the sea. I see it in the snow, casting a gloom over the lands, stirring the desire in our hearts to go over the seas. I hear it in the roar of the seas, ever beckoning us towards it. I grow restless at the very thought of freshness of a voyage, the thrill of a fight, and the spoils of plunder.

(In a longboat on a sea voyage, Narrator speaking bit louder.)
And so I answer the call. I leave in my longboat, with a host of warriors that came to my banner. We feel the salty wind of the seas smack our faces, the wholesome sounds of oars splashing the waters, and the thrill of strange lands. And so we sing.

(The vikings sing, but more like shout the verses.)

"Through howls of the wind,
and roars of the sea,
as the vikings go to raid.

Taunts of rivals ring in our ears,
smiles of maidens drive away fears,
as the vikings go to raid.

The prospect of a dark night,
the promise of a good fight,
as the vikings go to raid.

We row across waves asunder,
we make now war for plunder,
as the vikings go to raid.

So grasp your axe and steel your heart,
and we hope for roast meat in hearth,
the vikings are on a raid."

(Narrator speaking to himself)
I see the horizon, dark and unknown. I wonder who lives there and if they know of us? Are those people of hardy stock, worthy of a good fight? Or are they of meaner stock, who will scream and flee at our sight. But we shall know tomorrow. It is at dawn that we will step on those lands, that village on the hill will be our first raid. The men sleep uncaring, but sleep escapes me with the thrill of a promised fight tomorrow.

(Dawn. The vikings land and raid the village. The narrators introspects amidst the spoils)
And so it is done. We came roaring like a strom from the north. The women and children fled at our sight, but the men came to fight. The bore rusty weapons, weapons fit for hunting or woodwork than war. But they fought and maimed few of us. But enraged, our host slaughtered them all. Neither men, nor women, nor children, nor the animals were spared. I still see some of the men, swayed by drink, make sport of the fallen. But a heaviness has come over my heart. I had wanted to raid, have a good fight and well deserved plunder, and glory. But I see no glory, only dead people who were unable to defend themselves. I now yearn to go back, having witnessed war and death in person. Perhaps, the elders were right. I had to answer the call of the sea, to learn this lesson.

(The narrator calls a man from his host to instruct)
We came here to raid, to fight, and to plunder. And it is done. Now we go back. Tell the men to stop this wicked sport fit for evil spirits. Carry the dead inside the homes and set fire to this village. I do not think this was the only village here. Now more would come to avenge the dead. We can fight hundreds, but not thousands. Do as I say! Tell the men to get on the boats when they are done. And take no plunder that you cannot carry on the boats.

(Narrator speaks in the boat)
And so ends a raid. We are now vikings, the most feared warriors ever reckoned by our people, and will be by the people we shall raid. I see the white horizon of my land. We are home.

[Ybbon]

I have to say that these are two excellent tales and I really have no idea right now. Will need to think a while on these.

[Shankbot de Bodemloze]

Indeed I'm sure they will both be an enjoyable read.

Best of luck to both duellists.

[Strengelicher]

Voted.

[m_1512]

Wow, this has to be the worst defeat ever.

Feedback about the entry appreciated.

[Ybbon]

I'm surprised it was so one-sided as I thought both were very alike, had the second one not had the extra notes I think it would have been much closer for me. If anything they slightly detracted from the story and I would have preferred rather than having stage directions it had followed a more normal route: The man stood on the edge of a cliff, his hair streaming behind and raised his guttural voice into the wind, "I sense the call. I feel it in the air, howling, as it blows towards the sea. I see it in the snow, ...." rather than tell me in an aside, that's how I see it in my mind, the man yelling into the wind and rain/snow. Though I see what the intent was it just did not flow quite so well.

That said it was still a very close call so I wouldn't be too disheartened.

[Dude with the Food]

I agree with Ybbon, the narration doesn't breaks up the story more than it adds effect. I think in the same way, most people would rather watch a play than read the script. That said, the ^numbers of the first one (that probably have a fancy name I don't know) always stop me reading to find out what they say. Out of two great narratives, I voted for the one that disrupted my reading the least.

[m_1512]

Thanks for the feedback, guys. Guess I forgot the basics myself.

[Shankbot de Bodemloze]

Which one won?

[m_1512]

Which one won?

Entry one, which is Max's entry.

[Shankbot de Bodemloze]

Congrats on the win.