As the first rays of dawn broke over the horizon, painting the sky in a fiery orange and red hue, a sense of anticipation stirred within the hearts of the travelers gathered on the shore. The cool morning breeze whipped through their hair and rustled their clothing, carrying with it the promise of adventure and the unknown.
Raden, their fearless leader, stood tall and proud, his eyes fixed on the distant horizon where Iopmin lay. He raised his hand in a silent signal to his companions, and with a determined nod, they set off toward their destination.
As they sailed into the open sea, the light of the rising sun danced upon the waves, casting a warm glow upon their faces. The sound of the gentle lapping of the water against the hull of their vessel was like a soothing melody, lulling them into a sense of calm. It was the calm before the Storm.
As the Calm Ocean Slowly was fading. The ocean was getting fierce and the waves were getting bigger and bigger. Their destination was the fabled Leviathan's Maw, a treacherous stretch of water said to be guarded by a great sea monster, whose jaws opened wide to swallow any who dared to cross its path.
As the Viking ship sailed into the Leviathan's Maw, the crew braced themselves for the dangers that lurked ahead. This was a place where sea beasts roamed freely, and the treacherous waters were known to claim the lives of even the most skilled sailors.
The waves were fierce, rising and falling with a ferocity that threatened to capsize the ship at any moment. The crew worked tirelessly, loading the deck with supplies and securing the sails to protect them from the onslaught of wind and water.
Ragnar, the Viking leader, knew that they had to be prepared for anything that lay ahead. His voice boomed over the chaos of the storm, directing his crewmates to stay alert and focused.
"Load the deck and protect the sail!" he commanded, his eyes scanning the horizon for any signs of danger. "We must be ready for whatever lies ahead."
The crew worked with a sense of urgency, knowing that their survival depended on their ability to work together and adapt to the ever-changing conditions. They lashed down barrels of provisions, secured weapons, and supplies, and tied themselves to the rigging to prevent being swept away by the powerful waves.
Amidst all the chaos, Raden was standing unwaveringly at the top of Sail as if he was asking the Leviathan's wave to come and attack him. A huge wave that was such that even Niamhriel couldn't protect the ship with her Magic. "WATCH OUT" Shouts Niamhriel
Raden's hand instinctively reached for his sword, his fingers wrapping tightly around the hilt. His sword was a weapon of legend, crafted with the finest materials and imbued with a shard-cutting aura, capable of slicing through even the toughest of obstacles.
With a calm and focused mind, Raden leaped from the ship and landed on the leviathan's wave, his sword held high. He took a deep breath, centering himself amidst the chaos of the storm raging around him.
In one fluid motion, Raden swung his blade with precision and force, the shard-cutting aura emanating from it with a dazzling display of light. The blade sliced through the wave as if it were butter, creating a path for the ships to follow.
Despite the mounting strength of the storm, Neko remained steadfast and focused, directing his crewmates to adjust the sails and steer the ships toward safety. His leadership and expertise guided them through the treacherous waters, navigating around the unpredictable movements of the leviathan.
The Problem was Arising One After Another. A huge Beast with two 2 big claws Attacks them from Behind but NiamHreil protects them with an invisible shield that was Guarding the ship.
Niamhriel Chants "Serpents of Flames" And Two Big humongous snakes wrapped in flames arise hitting the strange-looking creature and extinguishing its Breath. Raden was Quick to cover up as another Sea Monster arises Raden in a swift Blow takes down the Monster. Neko shouts "Change the Direction of the ship! Rowers" The waves had led them in the wrong direction but Neko's keen eyes spot it well.
The intrepid Vikings plied the oars with Heave-Ho! as they set forth into the ominous depths of the Leviathan's maw by the stroke of midnight. The unrelenting storm raged on, unleashing tempestuous gusts of wind that threatened to rend their sail asunder. The valiant rowers, fatigued from their tireless toil throughout the day, persevered in the face of the tempestuous squall that showed no sign of abating. The thick canopy of clouds enshrouded the heavens, obscuring any glimpse of the celestial sphere above. The rumbling clap of thunder was of such magnitude that it caused the stalwart crew to shut their eyes in awe and trepidation.
Amidst the tumultuous tempest, one of the rowers succumbed to exhaustion and fell into a faint. With the vessel's speed reduced, Raden gallantly assumed the oars, his mighty strokes propelling the boat at twice its previous pace. Meanwhile, Niamhriel stood guard atop the deck, vigilant in her watch over the ship's sails and rigging.
However, their treacherous journey was far from over. In the distance, they spotted the ominous silhouette of a mighty Britannia battleship bearing down upon them with relentless aggression. The air crackled with tension as the two vessels drew nearer, and with a sudden turn, the enemy ship unleashed a barrage of cannon fire upon the Viking boat. The thunderous explosions rent the air as the crew braced for impact, determined to fight with every ounce of their strength against this formidable foe.
"BRACE!" exclaims Ragnar. "You Little cunts! I'll not spare you!" Continues Ragnar
The Viking ship and the Britannia battleship were now locked in a fierce battle, their crews fighting tooth and nail to gain the upper hand. Swords clashed, shields rattled, and arrows whistled through the air, each side determined to emerge victorious. Ragnar stood at the helm of the Viking ship, his eyes scanning the enemy vessel for any signs of weakness. He barked out orders to his crewmates, directing them to load the ballistae and fire at the enemy ship. Niamhriel conjured up a fierce storm, dark clouds gathering overhead as thunder rumbled and lightning flashed across the sky. The winds picked up, the waves growing higher and more chaotic, making it difficult for the enemy ship to maneuver. Raden, meanwhile, charged towards the Britannia ship with his sword held high, his battle cry echoing across the water. He leaped onto the enemy ship, taking down one enemy after another with his fierce fighting skills. His sword glinted in the sunlight as he fought with the ferocity of a cornered wolf. As the battle raged on, it became clear that the Viking ship was outmatched. The Britannia ship was larger and better equipped, and its crew was more skilled. Ragnar knew that they needed a miracle to win this battle
The treacherous waters of the Leviathan's maw proved to be an unyielding adversary, even for the most seasoned of seafarers. As the Viking warriors navigated the perilous waves, their attention was suddenly drawn to a horrifying sight in the distance: a monstrous tentacle, accompanied by a shadowy figure shrouded in mist.
The Kraken spots the Brittania Battleships and slams it using Its tentacles. The ship crumbled instantly, The Viking had no time to celebrate as they were spotted by the Kraken in the Distance as well Hence they started rowing more and more away from Kraken. Just as they Had lost sight of the Kraken. Ragnar and his men, Including Raden let their Guard down. The Kraken's tentacles Extend and hit the wave Causing the ship to lose control
Despite their courage and battle-hardened spirits, the crew was caught off-guard by the sudden and vicious attack. The tentacle, long and stretchy, ensnared their vessel with lightning speed, hurling it towards a nearby island with a force that left them reeling. The entire event happened so quickly that none could react in time to avoid the horrors that awaited them.
This shocking encounter served as a stark reminder of the perils that lay within the Leviathan's maw, and of the unrelenting danger that the Vikings faced at every turn. Yet even in the face of such adversity, they remained undaunted, ever-ready to confront whatever horrors the sea might have in store for them.
The crew was caught completely off-guard, unable to react in time to avoid the vicious attack. It was a grim reminder of the many dangers that lurked within the depths of the Leviathan's maw, and a testament to the strength and tenacity of those brave enough to face them.
As the Viking crew was hurled towards the island by the monstrous tentacle, they were pummeled by waves and battered by debris, struggling to keep their heads above water. Eventually, they washed ashore on a deserted beach, their bodies bruised and battered.
But their relief at surviving the ordeal was short-lived, as they soon found themselves confronted by a tribe of indigenous people that they could hardly believe existed. These were not ordinary people, but cannibals, whose eyes gleamed with a savage hunger as they beheld the Viking warriors.