Day 1: The Summoning – Berserker

“Is it time?” one white robed man said.

“Yes, it is,” another one stated.

The mages left, traveling to different ends of the country, and created magical circles displaying various incantations beneath their feet. A total of seven robed mages, known as Watchers, began their summoning.

This was the first time such a feat had ever been tested. The Watchers didn't know the limits, or even who exactly they would pull from the ether. But after much research, they were certain it would work.

Bright energy flared from the ground, a release of air breaking back onto the mages, and a cackle of lightning discharge from the summoning circle appeared alongside fog. Beneath the haze, a silhouette. Each mage had summoned a Legend from throughout time!

“Come forth and state your name!” the Watchers proclaimed. The Legends all displayed various movements and remarks. The most notable was that of the viking.

“What in the hell is going on?!” the viking shouted.

“You are an esteemed Legend, are you not? A warrior summoned for your prestige?”

“A warrior, you say?” the viking smirked. “Of course I'm a warrior.” The burly viking, axe in hand, approached the mage. The mage took a step back.

“You're a small-looking man. What brought you here?”

The mage took a deep gulp. “I was positioned here to summon you.”

“Summon me? What for?”

“I'm not allowed to say,” he timidly replied.

“Not allowed, huh?” the viking leaned in with eyes not withdrawing. The mage could tell this man had seen lots of blood and war.

“Very well, then you shall accompany me!”

The mage was puzzled. “Accompany you?”

“Yes, boy! Accompany me. You'll be my first comrade.”

“I don't know if I ca—” He didn't get to complete his sentence before being picked up by the viking.

“The name's Ragnar, kid.”

“Oh, it's a pleasure to meet you. My name is Han,” the mage responded.

After several minutes, the two made it up to the peak of a mountain overlooking the cityscape of London.

“We're in London, I see,” said the viking.

“Not your favorite place, huh? I know why. The people here were the ones to end your reign, correct?”

The viking laughed aloud, breaking any silence within several hundred feet of him. “Are you kidding me, boy?! I've never felt more excited in my entire life. Not only do I get to fight once again, but I get to combat the ones that sought to have me gone so long ago. This is a cause for celebration!”

“Well, sir,” the mage hesitantly interrupted, “there's others out there.”

“Other what?” The viking was confused.

“Other Legends, like yourself.”

“Ha! You must be a jester to your people. There's no one else like me. But if what you're trying to say is that there are other warriors out there, then let us find them! They shall join us in conquest as well!”

“There's a problem with that,” Han replied.

“And what would that be?”

“The other Legends were summoned to fight you to the death. The winner will earn the title of 'Legendary.'”

“I see. Do they know who's been summoned?”

“No, it's up to each Legend to investigate and find that information out for themselves.”

“Ha! I am Ragnar. I don't investigate, boy. But that does bring forth an idea. Listen here! I'm Rollo! Anyone who dares wish to face a viking on this night or any other, I challenge you right here and right now!”

Silence filled the air for a moment before Han said, “What are you doing?”

“Well, you said we don't know each others' identities. I figured it'd be fun to throw them off their game a bit. And hey, if anyone wants to come fight me, then that's a win for me.”

The shouting could be heard even from the underground river, where the man with a missing eye and grey cloak had chosen to position himself.

“Rollo, you say?” he spoke to himself. “Betrayers act, and then betrayers die.” The man in the grey cloak moved onward to invite four Legends of his choosing to parley in the city.

Day 2: Alliances – Berserker

First to show was the blonde—a well dressed, tall, and muscular man. “I see I'm the only one here on time,” he said to himself.

“Don't be so sure you're alone, my friend,” said a voice from the shadows. An effeminate man with medium length brown hair, freckles, and a slender body emerged with a crossbow in hand.

“So, you must be the assassin class?” the blonde questioned.

“Maybe, maybe not,” the freckled man replied as he popped a hardball candy into his mouth.

“Aren't there supposed to be two more?”

“Yeah. They're already here.”

The man in the grey cloak stepped into view and said, “You there, come out from the shadows.”

There was another man with a long, dark brown ponytail in the shadows of the alley way, who was watching. He moved out to join the meeting.

“Very well, now that we are all here, I've a proposition to discuss.”

The four continued talking, ultimately agreeing to form a temporary alliance until “Rollo” was defeated.

Back on the other end of London, near Leith Hill, Ragnar stood, setting up base with Han in the woods.

“I should probably get going back,” Han said to Ragnar.

“What, really? Nonsense! I can tell you have some fight in you. Let me show you a real sense of adventure!”

Han became enraptured by Ragnar. He was everything he always wanted to be: strong, confident, and a proud warrior. That's why Han became a Watcher in the first place, to see strong Legends summoned.

“You're right, Ragnar. I'm in this with you!”

“That's the spirit, boy!” Ragnar leaned in to shake hands with his fellow comrade.

An eerie screech echoed through the thick woods. “Someone's in trouble,” Ragnar proclaimed.

“It might be a trap!” Han replied.

Ragnar leapt into action immediately. “If they want to trap me, it won't be me who's stuck with them. They will be stuck with me,” he confidently said. “Now hurry up!” He gestured Han to follow closely behind.

After a few minutes of running, blood could be seen scattered across the earth; following that, a woman lying in a pool of crimson red. In the shadows, a dark and mysterious figure lurked.

“Come out and fight me, man to man, warrior to warrior,” the viking yelled.

The shadow laughed. “Perhaps some other time. For now, let's see how good of a meal you make for my friends.”

An army of ghoulish vampires limped over the hill, eyes glowing red, their intent set on nothing but murder.

“Now, feed!” the shadow proclaimed as he pointed towards Ragnar and Han. The vampires' speed allowed them to almost instantly surround the two. Ragnar took his axe and cleaved three in half with a single sweep of his axe. “Ha! I want a real challenge,” he bellowed. Han danced around the attacks the best he could, but got cut by each of them little by little.

“Boy! Do you not know how to use a weapon?!” Ragnar called out to him.

“No, sir. I'm a Watcher, a mage, specifically trained to summon Legends.”

“Alright then, use some spells.”

“Well, I'm new, unfortunately. They don't really teach spells, since I'm not supposed to be helping much.”

The two were in constant motion, trying to avoid the dozens of vampires striking at each of them with claw and fang.

Ragnar took his axe and cleaved another vampire from groin to brain. “These are fun as hell to fight. Would have loved killing them back in my day.” Ragnar rejoiced from the thrill of battle, but a puncturing of flesh could be heard directly behind him.

He turned to see Han being quickly swarmed by vampires, a handful of them biting him and holding him down.

“Han!” Ragnar called out. He rushed towards him, swinging his axes and mowing down vampires on the way. When he got to him, he ripped one vampire's head off and tossed its body to the side to get it off of Han. Another vampire jumped on Ragnar, attempting to clench its fangs down hard, but its teeth broke on his skin. Ragnar threw it off as well.

Within a few minutes, Ragnar decimated the remaining vampiric forces with a mighty rage. He could see Han, eyes wide open, pale and lifeless.

“Damn it,” Ragnar murmured. “It was too soon for you. I'll avenge you, for you were my first comrade in this new age.” Ragnar bellowed at the top of his lungs, “Show yourself, you coward!”

Han's fingers began twitching. Ragnar knew this was no longer his friend, but a poor imitation. A vile fiend. He plunged his axe into his former comrade.

The air was still, the shadow that was once there now nowhere to be seen.