Balder had reached a weathered road after about two hours of walking and decided to follow it. He had been walking for hours without seeing a single sign of life: no abandoned castles on the horizon, no distant torchlight, not even a crumbling farmstead.
He looked across the barren landscape: it was often told that this territory used to be the most fertile land on the continent.
Grass, trees and many more plants had supposedly once filled the fields. Now it was all dead. All that now filled the landscape were certain kinds of mushrooms and dead trees. Only very few plants could grow without help of humans and their magic anymore and as of now the land outside the human cities was simply referred to as dead land, because that was very much what it was.
As he walked further he saw something weird, or something that most of the humans still alive would consider to be so but for him it wasn’t. In fact it was something that he couldn’t have been more happy to see and now it was only a few meters away from him: there stood a wooden stake, tied to which at its chest was a scarecrow without clothes.
He walked closer, the scarecrow had a necklace at which’s end hang a stone plate on which someone had carved a name in northern runes.
The runes weren’t engraved very deep, which probably meant it had been made in a haste. The plate read the name Ivarr Bjornson.
Balder froze. The thing before him was a Norse rite, a tribute to the fallen. Why was his brother’s name on it?
From far he had hoped it to be one of the many, that had probably been erected for his father by what had once been his army.
He looked on the ground, there lay offerings in form of few pieces of bread and scraps of metal.
“These idiots”, Balder said while smiling full of pain. How could one leave behind resources when they needed them as badly as they did.
He stared at the scarecrow. Could it be true? Was Ivarr really dead? Was his body rotting on the fields like the bodies of Balder’s men or did those who build this short lived memorial burn it?
He took a loaf of bread out of his sack, broke it in two and laid it down next to the memorial, he then carefully sat down in the dirt next to it.
“Enjoy your meal”, Balder said before eagerly biting into his own half since he hadn’t eaten or slept for more than a day by now.
He looked at the memorial again. He and his brother hadn’t always seen eye to eye but Balder still loved him.
He saw the bread as more of a precautionary measure in case that his brother truly was dead, or that was at least what he told to himself while trying to suppress his emotions. In reality he was aware that there was no Northerner who would erect the memorial without being sure that Ivarr was actually dead.
Who would make such a cruel joke?, he thought to himself. Did bandits find out about our traditions? How and why? Do they want to steal offerings?
He gobbled the bread down as quickly as possible and then reached out to take back the other half but in the end decided not to.
“let the bandits have it”, Balder said and stood up.
He knew the truth but still, he was refusing to acknowledge it.
“just in case its true”, he said in order to try to justify his actions to himself.
He started walking towards the north again. It was midnight already and he still hadn’t found a shelter.
The world was a vast graveyard of twilight and shadow. The sky, a deep, endless black, stretched overhead. The air was thick with the scent of damp earth and decay, carrying a chill that seeped through flesh and bone.
In the valleys, human settlements clung to existence like dying embers in a sea of darkness. Their walls were tall, their gates heavy, their streets empty. The people did not thrive they endured, for now.
Hours passed, each step heavier than the last. He felt as if he would walk this road forever, his life would end long before he found shelter. But then he saw something in the distance: a flicker of orange light, only a few hundred meters away.
His breath hitched. Was it real, or was exhaustion playing tricks on his mind? With renewed energy, he quickened his pace. His walk became a jog, then a sprint, the light growing brighter with each step until he saw it: a crumbled stone structure with faint firelight spilling through the broken walls.
He started moving towards it, at first, he walked which quickly turned into jogging which then turned into running as the light was getting bigger and bigger. Balder could now see a collapsed, stone structure through which’s broken walls the light shined.
Balder stopped abruptly, as he was less than one hundred meters away from the structure: What if it were Orcs or bandits?
His chainmail would alarm them through its loud rattling, so he decided to walk the last one hundred meters as slow as possible.
He crept closer to the ruins of the structure, which he could identify as a temple by now. What had once been a grand structure now reduced to little more than a shell of its former glory. The towering pillars that had once held the temple high now lay broken, half-buried in the earth. The stone walls, worn by centuries of wind and rain, leaned precariously, their edges chipped and cracked as if the very foundation of the temple had begun to forget its purpose.
As he drew closer, laughter cut through the silence. Human laughter. Balder exhaled, relief washing over him. He crept to a half-broken wall, his axe in hand and lurked around its edge cautiously.
He now looked into the eyes of two men sitting around a campfire which was being fuelled by decayed pieces of wood, many of which lay near the man sitting further back. They had already noticed him and turned their heads around. Balder breathed in relieve: they were Northerners.
The one sitting further back looked around forty and had many small scars across his face which was mostly covered by an unkempt, brown beard which stood in contrast to his bald head. His hands were scarred in a similar manner as his face, each of them lay at the handle of the two axes, which lay beside him. His clothes weren’t different from Balder’s. The man’s eyes were looking at him with suspicion.
The second man, older by a few decades, raised his hand in a calming gesture after taking a good look at Balder. His clothes were traditional but weathered, his thin grey beard and hair surprisingly well-kept. Beside him lay an old two-handed sword, its hilt worn from years of use.
“I know the kid”, the older man said calmly.
“From where?” the other one asked cautiously with a screeching voice.
“That’s one of Bjorn’s cubs”, the older one responded.
The younger man turned to him, his eyes narrowing for confirmation. After a moment, he relaxed, taking his hands off the axes beside him and motioning for Balder to sit.”
“Sorry kid”, he said, “can’t be to save around these parts. What’s ya name?”
“Balder”, he responded and sat down at the place the man had pointed to.
“Balder,” the younger man repeated. “I’m Hallr, and the old-timer over there is Kolr.”
“pleased to meet you”, Kolr said with a smile on his face.
“So you were part of my father’s army?”, Balder asked hastily.
“Obviously”, Hallr grunted, “we ain’t here for a nice vacation.”
“We’ve even been in the same room a few times kid, I don’t expect you to remember”, Kolr said. Balder found Kolr’s voice to be comfortable to listen to.
“We’ve even been in the same room a few times kid”, Kolr said, his voice was quiet and strangely calming, “Though I wouldn’t expect you to remember.”
“I don’t”, Balder admitted.
“Why would he?” Hallr interjected with a snort. “I don’t even remember Bjorn having three kids.”
Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.
“We’re actually four brothers,” Balder corrected, a faint smile briefly lighting his face.
“well, three now I guess”, Hallr shot back bluntly.
The words hit Balder hard, freezing him in place. Kolr gave Hallr a sharp glare but said nothing, waiting for the boy to process what he already knew deep down.
“How did it happen?”, Balder asked after a moment, his voice barely above a whisper.
Kolr sighed, running a hand over his thinning beard. “Imperial cavalry caught up to us about ten days after we left Csata. Your brother led us to victory... but it came at a heavy cost. Ivarr was one of the casualties. I’m sorry you had to find out this way.”
“Why sorry? he’s with Haboru now”, Hallr said which earned him an angry look from Kolr.
“I already found a memorial near the road”, Balder said with disappointment in his eyes, “did you build it?”
“The rest of your brothers supporters scattered when he died, they’ve probably built it”, Kolr answered.
“So I guess my group wasn’t the only one with a shit time after the battle at Csata”, Balder said while trying to force a smile.
His brother was with their god now, Balder should feel happy for him. but why did he feel sadness instead?
“At least you’re alive”, Hallr said, “but you do look like you’ve been pulled straight through an Orcs ass.”
For the first time in a while, Balder laughed, a genuine, warm laugh that spread to the others. For a brief moment.
“We’ve encountered some Orcs about half a day south”, Balder began, his voice heavy, “lost all that were with me there… honestly I’m not sure how I’m still alive.”
“How about your father's ashes”, Kolr asked gently.
Balder took the big sack off his back and opened it. He then pulled out the sack with the ashes which he then gave to Kolr who took it carefully.
Hallr on the other hand was more interested in the four loafs of bread that were resting in the sack. Balder pulled one out and ripped it in two, giving one half to Hallr who devoured it quickly. He then offered the other half to Kolr who shook his head.
Balder decided to eat the half while Kolr was closely examining the ashes.
“This him?”, Hallr asked with a full mouth to which Balder nodded.
“I thought we just left the ashes where we burned him”, Hallr continued while swallowing the last bite and brushing crumbs from his beard.
“What do you think was the reason some of the men left for the north or did you just not notice they were gone?”, Kolr asked.
Hallr shrugged: “I noticed some of them ran off. Figured the cowards just wanted to go home.”
“If there cowards then where are you two going?”, Balder asked, who was obviously annoyed by what he had just said.
“We’re going south,” Kolr said, his tone firm. “To join the forces of your brother holding Orc’s End. It’s the last stand of our people.”
“South?” Balder asked, confused. “That mountain over there is Shadow’s Peak, isn’t it?”
Kolr frowned and stood, walking to the edge of the ruins. After a moment of quiet observation, he muttered, “Ah, hell. The kid’s right.”
“So back in the other direction?”, Hallr asked.
Kolr nodded and sat down.
“Yes, back in the other direction”, he then said.
Hallr looked angry: “are you fucking kidding me: five days through dead land without even a singular Orc or imperial which’s head I could bash in and now I have to walk the same barren land again? FUCK!”
Kolr returned, clearly amused by Hallr’s outburst: “Calm down. It’s not the end of the world.”
Hallr grumbled: “Yeah, but now I have to walk back through that same shithole? Fuck.”
“You could go north with me”, Balder suggested.
“Who tells us that there still is a north?”, Hallr said, “many things could have happened in our ten years of absence and things were already going to shit when we left.”
“Don’t you want to go home?” Balder asked, his voice quiet but firm.
“Look kid”, Kolr said calmly, “we have left ten years ago and been doing well ever since. Theres nothing in the north except cold and death.”
“I do miss northern women though”, Hallr interjected which forced a smile on Kolr’s face.
“yeah, that is one thing you can’t get down here”, Kolr then added, “we were lucky since your father allowed some of ‘em to come along throughout the first few years, he did send them back north when things got headed though.”
“If you’re missing them so much then come with me”, Balder pleaded.
“Look kid, how old are you?”, Kolr asked.
“seventeen”, Balder answered.
“And how much do you really remember of the north?” Kolr asked, his voice softening. “Do you remember the biting cold? The creatures that stalk the days?”
Balder shook his head.
“Why do you even think your father has led us down here?”, Kolr asked.
“To reclaim our ancestral homeland”, Balder answered firmly, “after all this is where our people came from.”
“And?”, Hallr asked, “we haven’t lived here in more than two millennia, why would we care now. We are not the people we were when we left and the land is not the land it was when our ancestors used to shit on it.”
“What we’re trying to say is that we hoped to live a few more years by going down here and to be fair we did. Pillaging the few imperial villages and towns that were still standing gave us more food than we could have ever asked for although it’s all gone now it’s still better here than up north”, Kolr said.
“I need to deliver his ashes back home”, Balder said.
“I tell ya what”, Hallr said, “were walking back through this shithole no matter what you say, but how ‘bout you just come with us and get some help to your brother's forces. You're not going to make it to the north by yourself. If you’re lucky they haven’t eaten all the horses yet.”
“Who says he’s even still alive”, Balder asked, “we’re in the middle of imperial territory after all and if they still have enough men and horses to spare to have chased you down, they probably still have enough to take back a fort with damaged walls.”
“In that case we can still go north”, Kolr replied quickly.
“And after all I’m not too worried about the empire if that’s what the temples to their goddess look like”, Hallr said giggling.
Balder hadn’t given to much thought to the broken temple but it was now that he saw the broken statue at the end of the temple. The statue was a humanoid figure and despite the upper half was missing it was still clear who it depicted: Emberi, the Goddess most humans preyed to.
“If it's true what you tell me about the north then do you think ours look any better?”, Balder asked.
“Haburo doesn’t care about temples”, Hallr answered without hesitation.
“How do you know what the gods care about”, Balder asked, “I sure can't remember ever talking to him.”
“Many people believed that your father did”, Kolr intervened.
“If that’s the truth then my father must have forgotten to introduce me”, Balder said dryly.
Both Kolr and Hallr looked at him with suspicion.
“don’t get me wrong I believe in him”, Balder clarified, “it’s just that… the people always act like they know what the gods want, but I don’t think there’s anyone that can prove that that’s truly the will of a god instead of their own.”
Silence, Hallr looked at the floor while Kolr gave Balder a warm smile.
Eventually Hallr looked up and took a deep breath through his nose.
“don’t take it the wrong way but you not only look like you’ve been pulled through an Orcs ass, you also smell like it”, Hallr eventually said.
Balder let out a quiet laugh: “Not many sources of water out here, believe it or not.”
“How many did ya kill to end up like that?”, Hallr asked.
“three? maybe four? The battle is kind of a blur, it all happened so quickly”, Balder answered.
“Must’ve been a hell of a fight, would’ve liked to see it”, Hallr said while rubbing his left hand across the handle of his left axe.
“Don’t you think we’ve killed more than enough Greenskins over the last years”, Kolr asked in the tone of a mother lecturing her son.
“Can never get enough of those bastards squeaks when they die”, Hallr replied with a nostalgic grin. Balder smiled faintly, unable to disagree he too liked to see the Orcs suffer.
“It’s kind of funny,” Hallr added, leaning back. “We came down here for land, food, and imperial blood. Got none of it. The land is worthless, we’re starving, and most of the blood we’ve spilled is Orcish.”
“I’m not judging your father”, Hallr explained after Balder looked at him in confusion, “I had fun the last couple of years.”
“These bastards were everywhere,” Kolr reasoned, “Contact with them was inevitable.”
“Worst thing is they’re probably going to outlast us”, Hallr muttered bitterly.
“I heard they only need five years to grow up. Is that true?”, Balder asked to which the other two nodded.
“Your father would order us and a few dozen others to explore any nearby cave that we would find after defeating an Orc war host”, Kolr said, “we were tasked with setting everything on fire to make sure the clan wouldn’t survive, parts of the caves were overflowing with their offspring which we quickly eradicated.”
“I would’ve rather waited for them to grow up so that we could have a proper fight”, Hallr said with a mad smile on his face.
“My father didn’t have a problem with fighting battles, but he would have rather avoided those which he deemed unnecessary”, Balder said.
“Well, he didn’t have to smell the burning Orcs”, Hallr responded.
“What do they smell like?”, Balder asked, genuinely curious.
“Imagine burning shit, but have it be ten times worse”, Hallr answered, “the only good thing about this was, that he would reward us all with some good wine.”
“I can give you some”, Balder said and pointed at his drinking pouch, “but how about we look for a place for the day first, we have only a few hours of moonlight left.”
“done”, Hallr said and reached for the pouch but Balder pulled back.
“What do you mean?”, Balder asked.
“look ‘round, we’re in a temple. Believe it or not the imperials don’t like beasts entering it”, Hallr answered and again reached for the pouch but Balder dodged again.
“Magic”, Kolr explained, “the imperials usually protect their temples with some runes and it just so happens, that were sitting right on them.”
“And they will hold of all monsters?”, Balder asked persistently.
“Not all, Orcs would get through, but most other beasts don’t go near them. Its said that the runes used in temples confuse their instincts, don’t ask me how exactly it works I don’t know either”, Kolr explained further.
"So, if Orcs can get through, does that mean we're safe for the day?" he asked, still a bit wary of the place, “How do we now, that the runes still work?”
“We don’t”, Hallr said with smile on his face, “but we won’t find a better place any time soon.”
He again reached for the pouch but this time Balder decided to let him have it.
“Who is going to take the watch for the day?”, Balder asked to which Kolr answered by raising his arm slightly.
Balder laid his sack on the ground, resting his head against it. Kolr gently placed the smaller pouch containing his father’s ashes beside him. Balder doubted he’d sleep well, but for now, rest was enough.
