Immortal Cimmerian

A/N: Cimmerians are ancient Indo-European barbarian-celt mix, where as Sumerians are from Samaria which became the capital of Palestine. They are pronounced the same way. 

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Immortal Cimmerian

By A&A Blade

Dagonie watched the rain was come down hard as the heavy barbarian warriors of the empire escorted the fleeing villagers from the oncoming Viking assault. In the distance drums grew louder, a group of Cimmerians stopped looking around before their leader turned to his men.

“I will wait for you, do not hurry to me.” Dag said, everyone there knew what it meant. It was there way of saying good bye before the battle when none of them expected to live. The leader grabbed his spear as his stallion reared proudly before the massive Clydesdale charged into battle.

“RUSH!!!” The other Cimmerians screamed charging forward following their leader. To them it was not a rush to death, but a rush to meet their ancestors. A spear flew by Dag’s head followed by several arrows as the warriors in front of them charged to meet them. A white figure caught Dag’s eye for a split second, a woman in white at the edge of the battle field. He knew the legend of the woman that brought chosen warriors back from the dead but he pushed it from his mind as he threw his spear with amazing force stabbing through two men. He grabbed the twin axes from the saddle straps. He had a large thick headsman’s ax on his back and two blades strapped secured at his hips that had been passed down from father to son for generations. He let out another hellish battle cry as he plowed through another line of me. Dag had one goal in mind, cut down the numbers of his enemy. Several men tried to stab him but they all lost their arms and hands to his lethal axes. Dag threw an ax hard striking a man a few feet away from where he’d wanted, but he didn’t stop.

“Lo, there do I see my father” Dag growled as he fought. “Lo, there do I see my mother and my brothers and my sisters.” He said with each syllable stabbing or cutting another enemy. “Lo, there do I see the line of my people back to the beginning! Lo, they do call me, they bid me take my place among them in the hall of Valhalla. Where thine enemies have been vanquished, where the brave shall live forever! Nor shall we mourn but REJOICE for those that have died the glorious DEATH!!**” It was a warrior’s prayer, and it was the words he lived by. As he finished an arrow flew straight and true and hit him in the chest embedding deeply. 

Dag fell off his horse and onto the ground and pulled the arrow out of his chest, he turned and used it to stab another in the throat. With one ax he began cut a bloody path through the lines.

“RUUUSH!!!” Dag called as he single handedly killed over 150 men, but he could feel the blood flowing down his body. More blades pierced his body, he ignored them and kept going, eternally hell bent on killing as many as he could. He took off the ax from his back.

“I WILL GIVE YOU DEATH!!” He screamed and threw the large ax hard embedding it into one of the leader’s chest, before suddenly feeling a dagger in his neck. He pulled the dagger free and stabbed it into the owner’s throat, before watching in satisfaction as the leader fell. He was still standing as the battle raged around him, ready to face the rest of the opposing army. The Cimmerian Dagonie was dead.  

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**Eaters of the Dead, by Michael Crichton