In the dead of night, under the howls of bone freezing wind and a hail storm of white winter snow that seemed to cover the black darkness, two freezing men, a merchant, and a Brunic noble sat naked next to each other jittering and freezing from the cold, mutilated and covered with abuse, and surrounded by heavily armed and angry men.
Though the savage barbarians surrounding them were also cold from the harsh blizzard, these 'barbarians' were eerily silent in contrast to the two babbling naked fools, begging for their lives:
"P-Please, s-spare me... I-I'll g-give you-u anything..." The naked and freezing noble begged in front of what seemed to be the leader of the strong and well-equipped band of barbarians.
The men surrounding the two, though barbaric in their clothing when compared to the Brunesfolk, wearing furs and pelts on themselves, it would be hard to deny that the surrounding men were indeed rich and well-armed.
Their metal bracers, gauntlets, greaves, and even their boots were finely decorated in runes and designs foreign to that of the standard armor worn in Brune. Depicting animals like that of wolves and bears, some designs even had skulls or axes engraved on them.
Some of the men even had decorated Spectacled Spangenhelm helmets (Helmets Vikings used to wear) with different engraved symbols on them. Most likely depicting the clan that that man led.
Yes, that's right, these decorated men currently surrounding the two naked Brunesmen were either the Clan Fathers of the respective clans of the Danemen or the Norse Kings that led Normen peoples.
Although these men were already quite majestic and dare I say dazzling in their attire, they were no match when compared to the one they elected to lead them as their High-King.
Wearing gold-inlaid Daneborn Armor, with a bejeweled Gold-Steel forged Spangenhelm helmet on his head that both resembled a Warrior Viking's helmet and/or a High-King's crown, with his ginger-colored long beard that was neatly braided:
High-King Frodr Guldhring or Gold Ringed Frode, High-King of the Northmen and Great Clan Father of the Danemen, looked down at the two naked men in front of him.
His eyes filled with disdain and sorry, asking in a mournful yet ice-cold voice:
"When you killed my son and stole our payment... did he, not also beg for you to spare him?"
"P-Please, i-it was his plan- ACK!" The naked merchant tried to push all responsibility on the noble next to him, but his pleas fell on angry ears as the closest Daneborn kicked the begging scum away.
Frodr watched as the mercilessly cold winter ate away at the two cheaters that killed his son.
Killing the two in the same way they killed his son, by letting them freeze naked in the middle of winter.
As the two scum finally died, Frodr heaved a sigh of relief as a repressed tear almost left his left eye, but was stoically held back through Frodr's sheer will.
"Brother, you have avenged Fengnil, as you swore... Now, what of our next plans?" The Daneborn who kicked the Merchant earlier held Frodr's shoulder, asking him what they were about to do next.
"My son, Fengnil, is dead... But our plans do not change" Frodr mourned.
"What?! After all that, don't tell me we're still going to do this their way?! How can you still call yourself a Daneborn?!" A dark-haired man, much taller and bulkier than Frodr seethed, as he tried to undermine Frodr's authority.
Although Frodr was quite muscular and strong, he was still very thin when compared to the bulky men around him. If one was to describe Frodr, he would seem to be the type of person who uses their brain more so than their brawn. But that did not diminish Frodr's authority nor the majestic yet dangerous aura surrounding him one bit. In fact, Frodr's build just made him look even more dangerous and sharp.
Tornsten: "Ulfskad! How dare you question-" Frodr's sworn brother, Torsten, angrily tried to reprimand the bulky Ulfskad, but Frodr stopped him with one hand and gave Ulfskad a tired yet dangerous look, telling him:
"Ulfskad... Are you saying you know better of what to do next? Or maybe you wish to even become High-King in my place?... I have just avenged my son. If that is your goal then come quickly, I am too tired to play these games with you..." Frodr wearily yet stoically accepted Ulfskad's challenge to his authority.
Seeing Frodr become so serious, Ulfskad immediately backed down, knowing full well he couldn't beat Frodr.
"Tsk, if you're not even willing to try, then you'd know better than to run that big mouth of yours... And no, we're no longer buying land from the Brunesmen. We tried abiding by their laws... we did as their customs asked of us... But instead of justice and the land we paid for, they give us treachery and even took the life of our own. They took the Gold, this land is now ours... But they also took my son's life... no amount of gold can pay off this grudge..."
As Frodr made his speech in front of the Kings and Clan Leaders in front of him, cries of anger and rage came from the men surrounding the corpses of the two naked fools.
Then, after hearing the great war-cries of their Clan Fathers, even more, louder and noisier warcries came from the countless legions of Barbarians that suddenly poured out of the thick snow-covered forests behind them.
Legions of Axemen, Berserkers, and even Great Wooly Mammoths came out of the thick forests one by one.
The waves of the Daneborn Barbaric hordes have finally set foot on Brunic soil.
And their first objective: Besiege Königsberg, Northern Capital of Brune.
*SNEEZE!* "Huuuu, I heard the Barbarians have been besieging Königsberg for three months now? Still can't believe they actually reached that far..." Duke asked Byran who was still a little bit hungover from last night's feast.
"Haa, well... it seems the Bizmachs have been hammered down quite badly... But I think they might still be able to hold out for a little longer. I mean when it comes to Siege warfare, no other family tops the Bizmach cannons and their Blunderbuss Grenadiers you know..."
"Wait, but before that, HOW and WHY are you even here Duke?! Don't you know how much Vivian worried about you last night?! Haaii..." Byran sighed.
"Did somebody say Bizmach Cannons? Hoho, I actually made a design of a new Cannon patent myself! Bla Bla Bla..." Galleo butted in between Duke and Byran, taking out a piece of paper that was immediately snatched away by Duke, reading it whilst replying to Byran:
"Oh come on now Byran, I mean how can 'I' the Count, stay at home while you and Galleo here get all the glory and fun? Haha...ha..." Duke joked, not knowing how much he would regret his words later on.
"Glory and FUN?! You think war's a joke, lad?!... Haaa, well, I guess the glory part about war isn't wrong. But don't mistake even for a second that war is anywhere near fun!
And couldn't you just have 'fun' back at home? You know, with Ms. Vivian, and maybe produce an heir or two! Hehehe" Byran laughed liked the old pervert he was.
"Ehh~? With Vivian you say? Beh, I bet she's probably happier right now with her little pretty boy Bran than spend her time with fat ol' me..." Duke jealously pouted.
"Huh? Whaddya mean Bran? Bran joined our 200 men, he's right here behind us" Byran pointed behind them as an oblivious Bran suddenly came up from behind them:
Bran: "Huh? Sir Byran? Did you call for me?... M-Milord?! What are you doing here?!" The oblivious lad gasped in shock after seeing Duke.
Duke: "Bran?! Wait?! Didn't you stay home??? And what do you mean 'What am I doing here', shouldn't I be the one asking you that?! What are you doing here?!" Duke's confusion intensified as he realized Bran was there with them as well.
And so, Duke and Bran, both confused for different reasons, along with an aged knight and a very very eccentric old scientist journeyed forth with 200 measly men...
Never expecting just how much their presence would change the tides of war...