SerProcrastinate

Chapter Fifty-Seven (TIBK)

Eirik knew melee was suicide.

That tongue moved faster than anything he'd seen. One touch, and he’d be dust.

He needed to buy time. Leif was coming. He had to be coming.

The monster took a lumbering step forward, shaking the ground.

Its multi-faceted maw opened, emiting a low hum that vibrated in Eirik’s teeth. One massive limb, ...

Chapter Fifty-Six (TIBK)

On the battlements above Fort Abercrombie's main gate – stood Eirik Stormcrow.

Below him, the now free Northmen captives held spear-points at the backs of a terrified cluster of Skarl non-combatants: elders, mothers clutching children, the infirm.

But Eirik’s focus was entirely on the high pass beyond the shattered gate.

The sound of massed hooves grew from a tremor in the...

Chapter Fifty-Five (TIBK)

Outside Fort Abercrombie, Grakk'Thor's sixty warriors, moments ago charging in formation, were now stumbling wrecks.

Men swayed in their saddles, eyes bulged, bloodshot and unfocused, seeing terrors only they could perceive. Ponies fared little better. They trembled, legs buckling without warning, sending riders crashing into the snow. 

"Thul zhog vak! Vok na dras!" Grakk'Thor ...

Chapter Fifty-Four (TIBK)

The celebration devoured the night.

The first sign was subtle. A groan cut through the chanting near one fire. A warrior staggered to his feet. He took a step towards the edge of the firelight pale beneath his war paint, then doubled over, vomiting onto the ground.

Laughter rippled through his comrades, then jarred to a halt.

The warrior convulsed, fingers clawing at his throa...

Chapter Fifty-Three (TIBK)

They were hauled off the ponies with efficiency. Hands grabbed Eirik's arms and legs, and he hit the ground hard. 

The hood was ripped away, revealing Fort Abercrombie at dusk.

The courtyard teemed with Skarls—warriors passing liquor skins, women stirring iron cauldrons over fires. Children added to the noise with their shrieks. 

And dominating everything were the ...

Chapter Fifty-Two (TIBK)

Below, Leif and Isolde were mounted near the rear of the fleeing group. Leif looked back constantly, trying to shield Isolde. Isolde clung to her saddle, posture rigid in fear – too rigid. The posture of nobility trying not to show it.

He saw it a split second before it happened.

A fleeing guard's horse veered, crashing into Isolde's mount. The startled horse reared with a scream....

Chapter Fifty-One (TIBK)

The predawn cold cut through Eirik's borrowed jerkin. He huddled with the rest of Team Seven – Seventy-Two, Seventy-Three, Seventy-Four, and Seventy-Five – near the stables outside Frostholme's main gate.

Mistress Isobel Vance's salt caravan was busy. Wagons creaked as drivers checked harnesses. Nervous guards, paid a premium for this suicide run, fumbled with spear hafts. The air was...

Chapter Fifty (TIBK)

The Frozen Stag is packed with desperate men. 

Dozens filled the benches – laid off miners, guardsmen whose pay was always late, scarred veterans drinking cheap ale. Out-of-work laborers stared into the middle distance. On the small, raised platform at the tavern's far end, a bard with an uneven beard tuned his lute. 

Eirik Stormcrow, hood pulled low, bent over a beaten ...

Chapter Forty-Nine (TIBK)

The wind whipping across the high pass north of Frostholme carried the bite of coming winter. Eirik Stormcrow stood on a rocky ledge, the walls of Lord Varn's broke fortress visible a mile behind him.

Isolde would be there now, making her big entrance as the spice trader 'Mistress Vance'. The first act of the salt wagon show was happening.

Leif Fenrir and Olaf had found him here. 2025-08-08 12:31:40 +0000 UTC View Post

Chapter Forty-Eight (TIBK)

Eirik's face was blank as Yorick briefed everyone. He had yet to find an angle.

"...so Lord Varn confirms the main southern road, the Pine Run Road? Totally blocked. Skarl war bands hit any group larger than three wagons within ten miles of the pass crossing. They burn what they can't carry. Shipments haven't gotten through from the lower valleys in three months."

Harkin grunted. "E...

Chapter Forty-Seven (TIBK)

The tavern was called "The Frosty Stag". Isolde Fenrir sat stiffly on a stool across from Eirik, trying her best to tolerate the roughly cut wood and grimy patrons.

Eirik, however, seemed unbothered. He'd ordered a simple beef stew. The moment the worn bowl landed in front of him, he picked up his spoon and started eating. Gulping was perhaps the better word. He finished the first bowl in...

Chapter Forty-Six (TIBK)

Eirik, Leif, Olaf, Bjorn, and Yorick moved quietly through the snow-dusted pines.

Silence was paramount.

"Steeper up ahead, Commander," Yorick puffed as they reached the base of a sheer rock face. "Old goatherd's trail used to switchback up, but landslides buried it years back. This cliff... it's the fastest way to the ridge overlooking the fort's western approach. About sixty feet ...

Chapter Forty-Five (TIBK)

Their camp sprawled across a valley fifteen miles north of Flint's Hold.

Eirik stood at the camp's edge, watching his men settle in. The adrenaline from their escape had worn off. Now came the pain.

"Easy, easy!" Fisk's voice carried from the medical tent. Fisk worked on Helga's arm. "This will sting. Bite down on this."

A scream. Then silence except for breathing.

"Comm...

Chapter Forty-Four (TIBK)

The oak gates of Flint's Hold squeaked open. 

Eirik Stormcrow walked at the front. Behind him the main group of Talons marched. 

They were beaten up, wrapped in cloth. Some walked with hurt legs. All had marks of fighting. But it was what they carried that made the quiet talking turn into silence. 

Tusks — yellow and longer than a man's arm — were carried on...

Chapter Forty-Three (TIBK)

Eirik entered the cave.

He blinked, forcing his eyes to adjust. Light seeped from deeper within, lighting walls shining with hoarfrost. Troll-stink hung beneath the air. He glanced upward. The symbols near the cave mouth beat. Triggered? Or sleeping? Without any mana, he couldn't tell without Identify. He couldn't afford to find out the hard way.

M...

Chapter Forty-Two (TIBK)

The deep, rhythmic THRUM pulsed through the frigid air, resonating in Eirik's bones.

It wasn't a sound made by troll lungs or clubs. It came from beneath their feet. From the mountain itself. Or from the source the shaman guarded.

Then, they emerged.

Not four. Not six.

A solid wall of white fur, tusks, and rock-hard muscle poured from the large cave mou...

Chapter Forty-One (TIBK)

Dawn broke over the Serpent's Spine.

The Talons moved following Olaf's lead towards the bait point near the canyon entrance. Eirik, Leif, and Yorick shadowed the Trap Group heading for high ground flanking the canyon's bottleneck.

Eirik replayed the variables: Ten warrior trolls, plus the shaman, plus workers. The canyon is narrow – fifty yards long, ten wide at the choke. Our noi...

Chapter Forty (TIBK)

The Talon camp nestled in a deep crevasse half a mile from the troll defile, hidden from sight and partially sheltered from the biting wind.

Eirik's arrival cut through the low murmur.

Olaf emerged from beside a larger fire. "Commander. Orders?"

"We move. At dawn." Eirik stated flatly. He strode towards the central fire where Olaf, Leif, Yorick, Harkin, and Fisk clustered.

Chapter Thirty-Nine (TIBK)

In a cramped scroll shop in Flint's dingy lower town, Eirik Stormcrow stood before a cluttered wooden counter.

The last few days were spent on relentless grinding. On top of what he’d already been doing in the previous march from Stormkeep to the Serpent's Spine. By the time they glimpsed the Serpent's Spine, he already leveled his Riding skill firmly from D to C-, generating 2,000 Mana...

Chapter Thirty-Eight (TIBK)

Harald snatched the list, his eyes darting down it. 

"Saltpeter? Sulfur? This is alchemical stock! Expensive! And in those quantities? Commander, I told you—"

"You told me you're bleeding dry, but that has nothing to do with the fairness of our current trade." Eirik cut him off. "I will tell you what is fair: you want the Talons as your martyrs. So I want 2025-07-30 10:11:40 +0000 UTC View Post

Chapter Thirty-Seven (TIBK)

Lord Arcturus Flint leaned back in his chair. He gestured lazily towards chairs opposite him with a hand that held a heavy crystal glass half-filled with amber liquid.

Eirik took the offered seat, projecting calm he didn’t entirely feel. Leif stood rigidly at his shoulder. Isolde Fenrir took the other chair.

"You made good time, Commander Stormcrow," Flint remarked, and took a slo...

Chapter Thirty-Six (TIBK)

The wind howled through the jagged peaks of the Serpent's Spine. Eirik Stormcrow crouched behind black rock. Five days of hard marching northeast from Stormkeep had brought them deep into Lord Arcturus Flint's territory.

Below him, in a deep shadowed defile carved by ancient glaciers, lay their objective… and their trap.

His scouting party – Olaf, Leif, Yorick, and two reliable ...

Chapter Thirty-Five (TIBK)

The reek hit Eirik as he descended the familiar, uneven stone steps into the warren beneath the tavern. 

Eirik didn’t bother knocking. He pushed the door open, the hinges groaning. Fisk spun, eyes wide with surprise, then immediately shifted into his manic merchant persona.

“Commander! Frost’s frozen balls, you startled me! Back so soon? Need more Frostfire? Batch number ...

Chapter Thirty-Four (TIBK)

Seated behind the desk, Cedric Stormcrow wore a simple tunic of dark wool, the Stormcrow raven embroidered over his heart. To Cedric's right, Earl Borin Ironhelm slouched in a heavy wooden armchair that seemed too small for him. He nursed a large tankard of ale, already half-empty despite the early hour. His face was ruddy, his russet-grey beard slightly damp. He grinned around the rim as Eirik...

A HUGE Thank You!

Dear Danielle and John,

Thank you so much for your incredible support! Knowing you're both reading (and enjoying!) each chapter means the absolute world to me. Being my very first patrons is a huge milestone, and I'm truly honored.

While I've been writing for years (over a million words!), having dedicated readers like you actually committing to the story changes ev...

Chapter Thirty-Three (TIBK)

A single lantern cast flickering shadows on the worn map table where Eirik Stormcrow stood, flanked by his inner circle: Olaf, Leif Fenrir, Isolde, Harkin, and Yorick clutching his wax tablet.

"The payment?" Eirik’s eyes fixed on Yorick.

"Tomorrow, Commander. Harkin's contact confirmed. Final transfers clear at dawn. We'll have the full talons by mid-morning."

Eirik nodded. ...

Chapter Thirty-Two (TIBK)

Eirik pushed his half-finished plate away, nodded curtly to Olaf and Leif – both instantly alert, sensing the shift – and followed the steward.

The walk felt longer than it was. Eyes tracked him – nobles whispering behind hands, retainers pausing mid-bite. The heat from the roaring fireplaces pressed against his chilled skin.

He reached the head table, dominated by Earl Borin ...

Chapter Thirty-One (TIBK)

The biting wind howling through Stormkeep’s main gate felt like knives against Eirik’s skin. 

He stood slightly apart from the main Stormcrow contingent gathered on the frost-rimed battlements – Cedric, Ingrid, a heavily bandaged Garrick trying to stand tall, and a cluster of lesser nobles. Eirik ignored the sidelong glances and barely concealed hostility radiating from Garrick...

Chapter Thirty (TIBK)

Garrick Stormcrow stared at his reflection in the polished surface of a discarded knight’s breastplate. The blue-and-silver enamel was scratched, the metal dented. Utterly ruined. 

Like him.

He barely recognized the face staring back – swollen face, one eye puffed nearly shut, a sheen of sweat and grime making his usually ruddy cheeks sallow.

How?

The w...

Chapter Twenty-Nine (TIBK)

For three solid days, Eirik Stormcrow felt like nothing more than a glorified ice machine. His Peak Snow Realm mana core churned relentlessly, cold energy flowing from his center, down his arm, crystallizing into shape above his palm.

Thunk. Thunk. Thunk.

The rhythm was unceasing. Flask after flask materialized: thick-walled, apple-sized, with narrow necks. Each one cost hi...