Lend me your ear, and I will share a story of might and magic, and how it coalesced in the most unusual way.
I, Bellicina, was a sight to see back in the day. A true Valkyrie with a Nord Armor-clad body that gleamed like the morning sun. And by my side, lo and behold, there stood my faithful companion: my obsidian raptor that had the most mysterious air.
Picture me standing in the cut where the old ruins of The Black Sand existed, like ancient lichen across millennia-aged stone. In front of me, the old city sprawled in every direction. Reborn out of a tragic history, The Black Sand has since risen like a phoenix. The new city had become an extravagant destination where avid racers from all over the realm came to compete. It was the racing off-season then. Many racers trained together amongst the old city ruins to find distance from the commotion the luxurious new side of the city brought.
At that time, The Black Sand Tournament faced a grave threat that put its very existence at risk. Unity, like the stitching on a torn garment, was required to weave a tapestry of peace. You see, the races of The Black Sand, a source of pride and entertainment, were on the verge of fading away under certain shadowy forces. Factions of racers, fans, and other participants grew angrier and angrier amongst themselves. Their arguments seemed to have no real reason; they were enchanted by a mysterious frustration that brought the city much conflict. And so, unrest was had, and blood was shed.
So, I stood with hot desert air stirring quietly across the stone around me, pondering why there was so much disagreement here. How would I stop further bloodshed so that the training may resume in peace? My obsidian raptor suddenly grew mad at that moment. Struggling to control him, I soon realized what his hostile gaze fell upon: It was, in fact, Hostilian. It was the famed velociraptor of Raptor Caye with two magnificent thermal eyes sparkling towards us!
Carnal rage was palpable in the beasts. The two raptors were spewing spit, teeth chomping, talons rending the sand. I had never seen my raptor act like this ever. I knew there had to be some type of dark magic involved. With all my might, before the two touched, I hauled my raptor by the tail out of sight. In a dilapidated ruin, I wondered what the hell was going on here. My obsidian raptor was still in a rabid state. I lost control, and before I knew it, his tail whipped around my head, and I was out cold.
I awoke in the dark hours of the morning to soft humming and diabolical chanting. Through a crevice in the stone, I saw what appeared to be a dark ritual taking place. Shadowy figures murmured unspeakable things in a circle of hatred. I was raised never to embrace terror, but for a moment, perhaps I did.
Snapping out of it, I threw my lavender double blade so high in the air that it crashed through the roof of the ruins and fell vertically upon them. It pierced the circle and the artifact in the center of it. I cleared my throat and announced in an ear-shattering cry, "Begone, evil-doers, or face my Armageddon upon you." The shadowy figures screeched. They were fatigued though, from the disruption of their spell channeling. I saw them collapse and scurry away into the shadowy ruins like cockroaches.
I approached the shattered artifact and grabbed it. It had demonic shadow runes visibly engraved on the surface. An evil rage emitted from it that took all my focus to ignore. With my blade, I shattered it again and again until it was just sand amongst more sand.
As I returned to the training encampment, I saw a brawl taking place. Animals, warriors, and wizards fought in the most meaningless way. Again, I cleared my throat. "Stop, you fools!" and clapped the lavender blade against my shield. The twanging echo stunned all those beings in the encampment. They were immobilized by the sound but not deafened.
I continued, "Dark magic has clouded all your judgment. I have discovered a dark ritual of hatred amongst the ruins beside us. Let us turn our hate not on each other but on those evil practitioners hiding there."
I noticed my raptor and the great Hostilian in the crowd. I was afraid they would continue fighting as the stun wore off, but instead, the pureness of my words changed their intention. It was only by way of collaboration and teamwork that we were able to band together to find every last evil worshipper hiding in the old city. Every trainer in the encampment joined together in the search in the name of fighting hate.
Once the hateful cultists were eliminated, the evil spell wore off. Training continued slowly. Competition was fierce, but in no way did the participants seek harm on one another any longer. The trainers looked back at that time of hate with much dismay. The original spirit of the tournament was now rekindled. May The Black Sand be a beacon of good sportsmanship and peace throughout the land for all its future!
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The First Valkyrie
I am Bellicina, the first Valkyrie of this age, and the strongest. There are now hundreds of Valkyries, because I trained them, and taught the most promising ones to train others. But let none forget it - I was the first, and I am the strongest. Let those who dispute it challenge me. I am here to set the record straight.
There have been many Valkyries that came before me, but I am the first of this age. Before me, not a real Valkyrie walked the lands for many a time. When the last Valkyrie departed the mortal world for Valhalla we became beings of myth. As generations passed people forgot that we were real. They thought that we were just stories. Eventually, the ways of my sisters were forgotten completely, but they were not gone, just forgotten.
I was born among the mountains of the north, like many Valkyries before me. But, I was not born a Valkyrie, no. I was born a girl and I had to be a strong one, or I would die. There were many ways to die in the mountains where I was born - cold, hunger, raiders, or being useless. There was not food enough for children who did not make themselves useful. No weak children come out of the mountains, they simply die there.
Many strong ones die too. Like me. I died.
We were all cold and hungry, and the tribes turned upon each other. Those we had feasted with in the summer became our enemies in the winter. My father had hunted a walrus. A few drops of blood were all they needed to track us. The raiders came in the night, ravenous for blubber. They killed my father and my brother while they slept deeply on full bellies.
I was just a girl of twelve, but I grabbed my father’s fishing spear, just a simple piece of sharp wood. I remember my first kill. The spear entered through his gut and pierced his spine. His legs buckled instantly and his bowels emptied upon the ground as his blood mixed on the ground with the blood of my slain kin.
But, I was just a girl. I was grabbed from behind around my torso. They wanted us women alive, to have their fun with us or use us as slaves. The man grabbing me had blood on his chest and it was slick, I slid under him and slammed my skull into his manhood, and then I drew his dagger from his boot and used it to slice his throat.
I was clubbed from behind and felt my shoulder blade shatter, my bones were not yet fully grown. But I still had use of my throwing arm, and I still held the dagger. I had practiced this many times in the woods, turning and throwing a dagger at a target the shape of a man’s eye. Because he was taller than me it entered at an upward angle and reached the brain, I think.
Then they were done trying to take me alive. One of them ran his sword through my belly. I couldn’t get it out, but he was close to me. So I clawed at his face and tore flesh with my teeth. He kicked me away and as the blade left my body so did much of my blood. I was collapsed upon the altar my family had used to ask the gods for blessing in the hunt. What “god” had answered our call and given us the blessing that led to the curse of death? I still do not know.
I know that I lay there bleeding as sounds of slaughter swirled around me, some of my kin were able to fight back too, and maybe some of them got away, thanks to those who fought. I have not found them. I think they were all taken by the cold or slavers eventually. But, I tried, I fought as well as I could.
And Odin saw that because I awoke in Valhalla. My father was there too, with my brothers. They could not talk, but they stood in Odin’s hall, watching me. I had caught Odin’s attention. He enjoyed watching me fight, and my dying blood was spilled upon sacred symbols. He wanted to watch me fight some more.
He decided that I would be the one to bring the way of the Valkyrie back to the world. We would lay forgotten no longer. They would sing of us in songs once again and tremble at the sight of our wings.
The time was now. The world was full of violence, but void of heroism. There were few worthy heroes to populate Odin’s longhouse and sing songs with him at his feasting table. This had to change. Odin demanded it.
The great god Odin sent me back to the world of the living with his blessing, a rune of incredible power that let me channel his strength into my body. I am a woman, with the strength of a demi-god. That is why they call me Armageddon.
I am here to do Odin’s will. To wage many great battles and train many great warriors who may one day be worthy of filling Odin’s halls and feasting in Valhalla.
I am Bellicina Armageddon, the first of this New Order of Valkyries, and the strongest. Challenge me if you dare. I can never refuse a fight. Odin sent me back into the world to crafty beauty through the dance of combat and to orchestrate battles worthy of the tongues of bards. That is what I do.
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