Sorry, I missed the sure kill!
Hang on, I'll end it!
Askeladd...
I just wanted to be your friend...
You are, Bjorn.
My one
and only
friend.
Send me to...
All right.
You've waited long enough, boy.
Come.
I'll entertain you.
Beyond the night skies I'm trudging towards, a lone crow lies in wait
Cawing as if to hasten my gait
From the annals of history, shadows of skulls laughed at me
Laughing in my face with glee
So I just bleed and feel the blood I have inside me
Holding to the creed and blade to slay thee
Carry on the oath until my last scene
Higher than the sky and deeper than the sea
Keep your precious justice to yourself, bud
Use it till they're torn, become a pile of mud
I don't need their choice or voice to judge me
The one and only way I had and always seek
Anyone, everyone, I will crush 'em all
Enemies, let 'em see, now I see you fall
Kings and gods, change the odds
I'm the one who makes my final call
My scars, my past and even my solitude
I'll quell them all with just my feud
Keep your crown, I'll take you down
I'm the one who makes my final call
Lone Wolf
Shit.
He's acting different than usual.
So, who've you got in this one, prince?
Care to wager?
It matters not to me.
I will stop the duel before either one dies.
Oh, don't be such a spoilsport.
You don't get to see such hardened warriors face off like this too often.
In that case, who do you think is stronger?
Me?
Well...
Askeladd, I bet.
A pound of silver on him.
I will not wager.
Why do you pick him?
Why? It's just that I've got this feeling.
But Thorfinn bested you.
Are you saying Askeladd is even greater?
Do you know who you're talkin' to, prince?
You see three great men before you, and your instinct is to label me as the weakest?
Me?
Look, "strong" and "weak" ain't so simple.
You can't determine the pecking order just from who beat whom. That's what makes it fun.
It matters not to me.
Admit it. You're a woman, aren't you?
What's wrong, Thorfinn?
Come.
I want to get this over with before we're stuck in a blizzard.
Very well, then.
There.
Easier to attack me now, isn't it?
C'mon, boy.
See?
You still don't understand why this always happens?
I take back what I said.
This ain't much of a fight.
Askeladd knows every one of Thorfinn's quirks and tendencies.
They must've fought like this countless times.
What's the root of this duel?
No idea.
I have not heard.
My word.
You never learn, kid.
Did you think you could take on the world after you beat Thorkell?
This is growing tiresome.
Cease!
The fight is over!
You thought you could beat me with one hand.
This has to be my lucky fucking day.
Stop!
Stop this madness.
He's out cold.
You've won the duel.
I don't believe this.
He actually stopped the fight.
Thorfinn!
Hey! Thorfinn!
Are you conscious?
The fight is over.
You lost.
Enough. It's over now.
You little—
You passed out.
He delivered the finishing blow.
Fight again when your arm has healed.
The result will be the same—one or two arms.
The injury itself is not at fault.
The fool loses because he's a fool.
You've learned to think a bit before you fight, true.
But all is lost when the blood goes to your head.
I can tell you're aiming for my neck just from your eyes.
Only a fool gives in to his rage,
screams his bloody head off,
and waves his weapon about.
It's like nobody around here has ever heard of grace or beauty.
Bjorn was right.
I hate warriors.
Especially Norsemen, the Vikings.
My very first kill was a Norse warrior.
He was an ugly man.
He was my father.
Kid...
I'm going to teach you a lesson.
A lesson on how to kill a man you truly hate.
All right!
It's ready to fall apart.
Watch behind you.
My mother was a slave.
My mother had always been sickly and could not work.
So, ever since I was old enough to remember,
I was working in the blacksmith's shop and the stable.
I was always plastered white and black with ash, soot, horseshit, you name it.
So I earned the nickname Askeladd,
the ashen lad.
Lord Olaf has returned!
Another grand victory, I hear!
My father was from a powerful family in Jutland.
Lord Olaf!
Welcome back, Lord Olaf!
He loved to drink, fuck, and kill.
See, he was like any other Viking.
He'd fathered kids like me on women all over.
But only the older ones, born to his proper wife, were given names.
He probably couldn't even recognize the faces of his bastards.
My mother was his favorite slave when she was younger.
But when she fell ill,
he treated her no better than the dogs.
Living in pain and squalor was nothing new to me.
But my mother was different.
She often spoke of the hero Artorius, our ancestor.
She liked to tell the same tale over and over.
Five centuries ago,
the legendary general protected her hometown from invading barbarians.
She believed the myth that spoke of his eventual return.
The second coming of the man who would free her from sickness and slavery.
She repeated the tale to me so many times that I couldn't help but believe it.
That far over the western sea,
in a land no mortal man could reach,
the hero Artorius lived in a paradise on Earth.
Peace and prosperity.
A promised land of eternal life.
The hero dwells there even now, tending to his wounds.
Some day, he will return leading a great force that will smite the barbarians
and restore order to the world.
So my mother's people believed.
They've waited for five centuries.
The hero has still not returned.
But just think about it.
If our ancestor truly lived in such a glorious place,
he'd never choose to come back to a world like this.
When I was eleven, my mother's spirit finally broke.
Mother!
Of all the things that could happen,
as my father walked past,
she had mistaken him for the hero Artorius.
In an instant, I knew.
If Artorius would not come to save my mother now,
he would never come for us all.
Do you understand, kids?
Someone has to do it.
Not a hero, not a god—just someone.
It was an odd thing.
I'd never used a sword before,
but it fit right into my hand.
I knew exactly where to go, how to swing.
I took it as proof that the blood in my veins really had come from the piece of shit before me.
That sad realization brought tears to me eyes.
You.
Are you her child?
Are you my child?
Yes.
You have potential.
You live in the hall starting today.
Of course, being an eleven-year-old, I didn't expect to be able to kill him.
But I just needed to catch my father's eye,
and I succeeded.
I behaved myself in his hall.
I kept up with the combat training and horsemanship.
I even got along well with my half-brothers.
Good job, Askeladd.
I was careful to uphold my father's honor.
I was a loyal son who never forgot his debt in being saved from a life of slavery.
In time, the others came to accept me as though I were his legitimate son.
It took two years to reach that point.
I wished for two things.
A moment when his guard was down, and the right to his fortune.
Oh, I wish you could've seen it.
The look of incomprehension on his face.
The sword belonged to one of my brothers.
I'd stolen it from the one who was most at odds with my father.
The other brothers thought he'd done it,
and they hung him from a tree.
Such simple-minded cretins.
They're stupid, filthy,
and unconcerned with anything but their own base urges.
And now these ugly men flood forth from every cave and hovel to squeeze the life out the world.
For every one you kill, two take his place.
I don't care if it's Artorius, Ragnarok, or the Final Judgment.
As long as it comes damned soon.
But I doubt I'll be alive to see it for myself.
My, that was a lengthy tale.
The point is, Thorfinn,
you've had over a decade, and you still can't beat me.
That makes you a clown.
Shut up!
I'm...
I swear I'll kill you!
I'm gonna fucking kill you!
Come on.
You're still going on about that after all I said?
It's as though you're a dog hounding for scraps.
I truly am grateful for your strenuous efforts.
All I need to do to get you going is to put on a little show and have these duels.
It's enough to get you to run off and fight someone like Thorkell.
You're quite the useful lad, you know.
Really.
I must give thanks to Thors as well.
Wait.
Wait!
Enough.
Shut up, shut up, shut up!
Just shut the fuck up!
Now is the time to tend to your wounds.
Fuck that.
Cease this at once.
Geez.
How pathetic.
Well, Bjorn's freezing solid over here.
Why does it have to be me?
You are of the hero's lineage, Askeladd.
You have the talent.
Why do you not seek the throne to change the world for yourself?
You're joking, right?
Weren't you paying attention to my story?
You're better suited to being a king.
More than me or King Sweyn, at least.
I can tell by looking at your face.
I'm nothing but a Viking.
I feel like I'm almost there, but I'm not
Hounded by bones drifting along on silent winds
Unceasing echoes of voices won't ever fade
We can't well turn back without knowing what lies ahead
We may see in the same colors
But the breaths we draw are shaded differently
You're gonna make me go
You're gonna make me drown
I've nothing left to even lose
You're gonna make me go
You're gonna make me drown
No I don't want it, I don't want it,
I don't want it
Don't let me go
You're gonna make me drown
I'll head towards an answer that affords no footing
You're gonna make me go
You're gonna make me drown
No I don't want it, I don't want it,
I don't want it
But I know no one's there
I will stay right here
I'll walk the precipice