Bjorn Lothbrok Novels & Stories

) Zakerius Togar - Zah-kee-rius Toh-Gah *This will be updated as more characters are introduced.

Best if he spared her the pain of witnessing it. Lennox stormed out of the blacksmith shop, clearly aware that he was too late. Brock stepped out of the doorway of the stables. Jonathan St. Laurent, one of Lennox's friends, was the first to see him. He whistled sharply with his fingers, drawing the attention of the others. Within seconds, Brock was surrounded by the League of Rogues. "Youbloody bastard!" Lennox bellowed and dove at Brock, slamming him against the outside wall of the stable. He grunted as the air was forced from his lungs. Brock was beginning to wonder if every encounter with Lennox was going to end in a fight from now on.

He landed in the snow, wondering why his horse was running away and leaving him on the cold floor. He could smell them. Mitos. He started to run back, towards the army. The Mitos infested humans chased after him. They crashed into the incoming army, hoarding them. Harver realized he was going to be stuck between the devil and the Red Sea if he didn't find a way out. He ran into General Lothbrok. "You bastard!. You dared to betray the king", he said, jumping off his horse. "He's the one who betrayed us. He's planning on controlling the Mitos for his own benefit. He doesn't care about you".

I commanded harshly. He wore charcoal formal pants, a matching dressed shirt with a couple buttons undone. His dark blonde hair was sleeked back, polished in his appearance despite the chaos. A matching beard that was perfectly trimmed while his built resembled a Viking. He appeared to be in his late thirties, prominent lines upon his forehead yet he looked completely at ease. My brows furrowed, he was confident in the face of the King. Which only meant one thing, he was the leader of The Rebel’s Creed – Bjorn.

Enthusiasm and courage are the words Nolan uses to describe Windy. Nolan smiled and nodded, "Then I'll hunt in the northeast." The two split up and ran in the chosen direction. But they never expected Ezra's enemies to have entered the forest long ago. The leader of the assassin group is a Wolf with a pretty special fur. It has a reddish brown coat that is different from the rest of the species. Next to it was a wolf with jet-black fur similar to Ezra. But if you look closely, you will see the difference between the two.

“No. Not really. It could cause a few cases of heart palpitations and fits of apoplexy.” After several further minutes of polite conversation there was a knock on the door. Sigwulf, Lakon and Kemp entered. More introductions were done and more questions asked. “Why do all you Hawthorn chaps sound like you hail from Ulfwyn?” Hrodgar mused with a small smile as Sigwulf introduced himself, his dark eyes watching them all closely. Kemp look surprised. “We do?” “Your names. Sigwulf, for example. It’s an Ulfwyn name that means Victorious Wolf.”

They both miss. "Looks like the legendary Balrog is still human too." Johan Nostradamus, a hitman with over fifty-seven kills under his belt. Considered legendary within his community for his innate intellect and impossibly quick reaction times. His last name simply being a title given to him for his prowess in predicting others to an almost flawless degree. Throughout his time as a hitman though he has struggled to find anyone who could give him a challenge, which led him here today. The most unpredictable man in the world. The Balrog, or just known as Balrog.

Every legend has its hidden face and every myth is polished by the language of the poets who tell it. Ragnar Lodbrok's epic is therefore no exception. Contrary to what is known from the story of the illustrious and legendary king and warrior; Ragnar Lodbrok did not come into the world with the common physical characteristics of the Vikings whom we know as strong, tall and combative. He was born a hunchback: the bitter fruit of a second trick and a challenge that Loki gave to Hoder, the "blind god" of Asgard.

"Continue." Brodi chuckled. "So, I was born in the year 572. My father was chieftain of a large band of Northmen, what are called Vikings today. No one could defeat us in battle. He became so strong that several of the gods began to fear him, especially Loki." "Wait. You're telling me gods existed and were jealous of your father?" A skeptical look pulled Liv's eyebrows together. "Yes." Brodi was nonplussed. "That is what happened. The gods were a major part of our lives then. Today, the people have all but forgotten them except in myth and story."

"That was fun..." "Yeah...Do you care for some wine?" I asked and he nodded wordlessly.There was this weird silence between us as we sipped our wine, our eyes glued on the television screen.We were watching the last episode of Game of Thrones . "I prefer Vikings to Game of Thrones..." He commented. "Me too..." "So who is your favourite actor in Vikings?" "Ragnar Lothbrok and you?" "Ivar the boneless...." "Don't tell me you pity him because he is a cripple?"