Viking Warriors Novels & Stories

“But I can braid your hair if it annoys you that much.” She gave me a sceptical look. “You can braid hair?” “I'm three-hundred-and-fifty years old…I need to pass the time somehow.” “So you learned to braid hair?” I grinned and pulled her closer. “Lycan warriors used to wear their hair long, and before we went into battle we'd braid it.” “Like the Vikings?” “Similar, yeah.”

Right then, there was a lot for him to mull over. With Bertram's death, Rhychard would have thought that most of his problems would have been settled, but it seemed they were only magnified. Aradhon was still loose and very much a mystery, more people knew Rhychard was a Warrior of the Way than he was comfortable with, Buttercup was a growing witch and again without a job, and Renny needed to be announced as alive again. Why can't I ever have normal problems, like all the parking spots are taken at the mall? He sighed as he lifted an ancient desk chair and headed for the truck. He couldn't remember the last time he had a normal problem to tackle. He needed normal again, but as long as he hel

Old Viking names and meanings: Toke – Thor, and helmet Bo – The resident Rune – Secret Birger – Keeper Ulf – Wolf Eir (Old Norse: [ˈɛir], "protection, help, mercy") is a goddess or valkyrie associated with medical skill.

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.

Ahmed taunted Kabir and swiftly wrapped both of his arms around Waniya; put his head on her shoulder and looked at a glaring Kabir. "Fucking shut up y'all," Waniya said loudly with a smile. Her cheeks were burning with warmth. Warmth of blushing and alcohol. "Waniya is ashamed y'all. What a fucking miracle, motherfuckers, toast to it." Everyone cheered to that with big laughs. "Y'all are here to enjoy the party. Go fucking do that. Don't plan my family or love life." Waniya admonished them all but no one was taking her serious because there was a huge smile plastered on her lips.

Huge wolves, fangs bared, running full tilt down the beach alongside an entire contingent of Viking warriors, Erik and Birger in the lead. The crowd screamed and ran in a panic when the ferocious battle cries and howls sounded behind them. After a second of shocked hesitation, Magnus' warriors quickly formed a shield wall in front of their Chieftain ready to meet those that they had believed to be their brothers earlier in the day.

Guerrero’s return would be nothing short of fire. But the question is; ….”would he ever come back”? ….”was he dead”?. ”Blood is thicker than water” or so they say. A true VIKINGS should be able to perceive his own blood even from it's silhouettes… This trait has been passed down From the Ancestral Wolves… Embedded in the leader of the VIKINGS and it's descendants Even the Breeze cackled at those who called the legitimate son of the Vikings a “BASTARD “

Giant kegs lined the other side of the wall, the source of the good humor. It was such a marked difference from her pack’s ceremonies and celebrations. She’d been warned about this, but it was like the whole place had been torn from the pages of history. Many of the men looked just like Vikings, though dressed more like modern-day Vikings would dress, with the military fatigues rather than animal skins and chainmail. There were a few carved weapons glistening around the cave, axes and knives. Everyone present seemed incredibly muscular and vaguely threating. No wonder Agnar saw her as a delicate flower.

Flame's POV "The Viking warrior who drank beer from the skulls of those he had killed!" I repeated what Martha said with trepidation and excitement. I don't know this Viking warrior but at the mere mention of his name, my heart started beating hard against my ribcage and I began to feel a strange but sweet throbbing sensation that I couldn't explain in between my thighs

“Yes. I miss the simplicity of it all. The strongest warrior won the battle. No one discussed the fairness of it or lamented the loss of life. We yearned for a clean death, a warrior’s death, so we could join our brothers in Valhalla.” “So you enjoyed cruelty.” The old Viking smiles at me again. “There is a big difference between a quick, clean death, and cruelty. I killed only out of necessity. I never tortured anyone for the fun of it…” he goes quiet for a while. “There were some that did.” “Yes,” I say. “But it was simple right? They lost, so they deserved it.” “I didn’t say that, youngling,” he goes on. “But you are judging the things I did as a human. You think you are judging vampires,