Ragnar Lothbrok Novels & Stories

I groaned a bit but didn't give them the pleasure of hearing me cry out in pain. I smiled at them, " that was powerful" I say, " your name is Clover Doharty, correct?" He asked. I frowned, "wha-""technology has improved" he simply said. " If you already knew, then why?" I ask, he smirked " it's fun watching rogues suffer" he said " wow! That's not sadistic" I muttered with an eye roll.

He says gazing at me intensely. "What do you mean? Aren't you listening to me?" I ask him. "Trust me Morgana. Once you get your wolf, I'm the only one you'll be able to think about. This human boyfriend of yours won't even matter." He says firmly. "His name is Charles. Besides, we can always break the mate bond right?" I state "OUT OF THE QUESTION!" He says with a growl, his voice sounding authoritative and a shiver runs down my spine.

When facing a battle, the most important thing for a Wolf is to believe in his leader. After a while came what the Nolan group feared, their enemy. The opponent has three people, a wolf with yellow fur and a wolf with red fur walking ahead. The wolf with black fur walked behind the other two, his blue eyes making the viewer feel fear. This group of assassins was very different from the usual ones who used to hide and sneak attacks on the Ezra people. But these guys came to be strangely arrogant and cavalier. Had it not been for the declaration of war befra's group would have thought they had come to make friends.

he started to jump as the explosion started, catching his armor and sending him flying like a rag doll thrown by a mischievous child. Ragnar was momentarily paralyzed by a strange sensation. His hated enemy was killed, killed in an explosion, and it looked as if he had usurped Ragnar for revenge. But it wasn't the worst. Suddenly, to Ragnar, his revenge seemed insignificant compared to the threat of the Chaos Marines and the evil gods they worshipped. It threatened all of humanity and Strybjorn died fighting it. Moreover, he saved Ragnar's life from the witch's evil spell, and Ragnar could no longer pay this debt. He roared in anger and frustration, and after months of dull hatred he sudden

"Davina Lynne Lothbrok Birthdate: 9/21/2005 Weight: 7lbs 6ounces Time: 5:23pm" "This is mine Ragnar, why was it hidden?" "Turn it around Davi" So I turned it around for it to show what hospital I was born in, which wasn't the one here, also it had a name on it, one I had only ever seen in our history books when talking about a royal family, the first werewolf family there ever was. "Freyja Mani" Old Norse for The Lady, Goddess of beauty, love, sex, war, and fertility. Mani was the God of the Moon.

he asked to confirm his doubts. Arthur leaned back in his chair in a relaxed position. He can sense where this series of questions would lead to. "Yes, your memory power is commendable" he joked. The Nester king groaned with frustration. "Arthur, you need to take this seriously. A man named Blake started a war against Irina. What are the chances of this Blake being the same as that Blake in the Raven clan?" he asked, trying to make him realize how big of a danger he is in.

I say, telling him just small bits of the gods. “That is a lot of gods.” He says, and I nod my head. “So you are named after one of them?” He asks. “Yes. I am.” I say and smile. “Do every one of your people value wolves?” He asks. “Most fear them because of an old prophecy, that the wolf Fenris one day will kill Odin and start Ragnarok,” I tell him. “Ragnarok?” He asks and sounds interested. “Everything will be dark, cold, full of ice and snow.” I tell him and he looks at me.

Note: Events in this story are fictional and do not reflect actual Viking history. (900 AD – Before the Separation of Kingdoms) In the year 900 AD, before the Norse kingdoms split apart, there was one kingdom feared above all, Vikron. Its warriors were brutal. Their culture, violent. Yet, they were united. And at the center of that unity stood one man King Ragnor, named after the god of thunder himself. Ragnor led with blood and fire. His people raided distant lands, conquering village after village.

"I'm Ragnar, son of the dwarves of Mistril Mountain." Dwarves? He didn't look like any dwarf I knew of. I guess I didn't have any true frame of reference for a dwarf in person, but he certainly didn't seem to fit the bill. I might have been closed minded though, because the only thing that seemed not so dwarf-like was his stature. His hair hung in a long brown and gray braid, and his beard was accented with silver charms and small braids. Ragnar had a collection of axes and daggers hung about his person, and was dressed in what looked like armor made of leather and steel.

Andrew replied flatly, "You talk too much, you monster! I think you should follow Fenrir and meet your end!" Ragnar suddenly flew into a rage, opening his mouth to let out a beast-like roar. Endless savage light shot from his amber eyes. He growled, "I will tear you apart, you lowly insect!" He shot forward, viciously clawing at Andrew. Andrew blocked with his great sword, only to feel primordial power surging toward him. His heart jolted. Indeed, Ragnar was a progenitor of werewolves. The force of this single strike far exceeded anything Othniel, Kaelen, and other powerhouses could compare to.