The tavern was full of people, but Thyra ignored them all as she walked in, and sat at the dusty counter. She wordlessly ordered herself a drink, and sat there quietly as she listened to the pointless conversation around her.

"I swear that wife of mine will be the death of me!"

"You've said that three times already, my betrothed is better than her."

"You don't think I know that!"

Thyra clutched the drink when it was handed to her, and she dipped her head, eyes flashing slit.

"Need a room for the night mam?" the bartender asked her.

She shook her head. "Not yet, anyway." she took a sip of her alcohol as long conversations rang out.

"Don't touch me!" Someone slurred.

"Don't be like that, we have to go home!"

"Yeah, I don't want to run into that Army group coming through here." someone else said

Thyra perked up at that, but tried not to show it.

"I don't care, they sound cool!" the drunken man slurred, laughing.

"It's not the troops I'm worried about, it's the guy they're transporting to Rome,the Dannish are handing him over to the Romans and they're headed south."

Thyra cocked her head, listening to every detail. If she could catch them before that happens, she could kill them all.

Just as she's thinking that, a man came up behind her, and grabbed onto the front of her chest.

She narrowed her eyes and grabbed his hands, forcing it away and turning it, pinning him to the bar as she held a knife to his throat. He let out a cry of surprise and pain, but she was too busy pointing the knife at him. No one had noticed yet, so she leaned forward and growled into his ear. "Leave. Now. Before I decide to use the knife." she hissed, giving him a shove. He scrambled up and ran to the other side of the tavern, trying to remain unseen as he sat with his friends, who laughed at him.

"You ok mam?" the bartender asked.

"Yeah. If he comes at me again, please know I WILL kill him right here." she replies, taking a sip of her drink.

Another man came up and sat next to her, "whatcha doin babe?"

"Do you want me to break your arm? If your answer is no, I suggest you back off. Now." she replied bitterly.

"No, I want to break you in, whether you like it or not."

She scoffed. "Only one person had that privilege." she replied, before turning and punching him hard across the face. She showed him her knife as he spat out blood. "Leave. Now. Or I WILL use it. And you will be missing some vital objects."

The man wiped the blood from his mouth, "feisty one ain't ya? How did they one person do it whore?"

"Whore? No. Murderer? Yes. So leave before I add another to the long, long list." Thyra responded, stabbing the knife millimetres from his hand.

The man grabbed Thyra where the sun doesn't shine, and hoisted her over his shoulder, wrapping his other arm around her neck

Her eyes were now slit as she struggled in his grip, pounding at his head and back.

(Warning! If you're younger than 16, or can't handle mature content, skip down to the next bold line!)

He carried her to one of the rooms, and threw her on the bed, making sure to take away Thyra's knife.

She kicked his face as he leaned back, watching him cry out in pain but tighten his grip. He shakes his head and pins her down, smirking in anticipation.

"I'm gonna put you in your place, brat!" He threatens.

"Oh, is that so?" Thyra responds, glaring at him with slit eyes.

The man kisses her on her lips, all while trying to get her shirt off.

She bites his lip, hard, drawing blood. He yells in pain.

"You little...I'm was going to go easy, but I see you want it rough!" he manages to get Tyras shirt off, only to find another one underneath it.

Thyra smirks, using his surprise to ram her knee up into the place where the sun doesn't shine, watching his pained face.

The man growls and hits Thyra with her own boot.

She spits at him in response.

The man manages to get her pants off, with only her underwear shielding her dignity.

The man smiled and pulled out a knife, and cut Thyra's other shirt off, revealing her muscular torso and chest.

"Jeez woman, what work did you do to be like this?" The man asked, studying her over.

She scoffs, "Killed hundreds, maybe even thousands." She growls, fighting against his grip.

"Hmm, I may actually release in you...I don't have an heir yet, and you look like you'd be a wonderful mother, once I break you in that is."

"Firstly, I'm not giving you anything. Secondly, I was branded with a slavery mark, so your child would be viewed as a discrace. And you're not breaking me in. The only time that will happen, is when I die."

The man took his shirt and trousers off, with only his underpants on him, "That's where you're wrong, I've broken in dozens, and all are loyal to me, but you'll be the best."

"If you think that'll ever happen with me, you are wrong. Dead wrong."

He laughs wickedly, shaking his head, and brings his knife down, cutting her bondings off to reveal her chest.

"Hmm, smaller than I thought, but who cares." he uses his knife to cut Thyra's lower bindings off, revealing her dignity which she really wishes he wouldn't be seeing.

The man looks down with a smirk, and he inserts a finger, but yanks it out immediately, "What! I thought you said you had a man?"

"I had a god, not a man." She smirks.

"Well he didn't bed you properly girl, you're still a virgin, hehehe, but not for much longer." the guy drops his trousers, and gets on top of Thyra, his man hood lined up to her dignity.

"Let me tell you something miss, when a man loves a woman, the only way he truly loves her is in the bed, and if he doesn't, well, he belongs in Helheim like the men before him."

"No. The only man who belongs in helheim is you. My betrothed loved me like no one else can. You take his name in vain, you die!" She catches him off guard, staring right at him with her slit eyes, that he hadn't noticed until now. His eyes widen, but she's already kicked him away, and knocked him unconscious.

(You can read again!)

She chucks on her clothes, and as he starts to wake, she grabs her dagger and holds it to his throat, pinning him against the wall. As he finally figures out what's going on, she basically screeches in his face, and stabs his manhood out of spite. He screams, but when he focuses back on her, in her place is a dragon. The dragon roars, pinning him down, and digs her sharp claws into his flesh. As he starts bleeding out from the stomach, she lets out a loud, ground shattering roar. A few seconds later an answering one rings out. She focuses back on her victim as wing beats can be heard.

The man whimpers as two more dragons come through the window, and come to her side. Thyra transforms back to her human form.
"Kill him." She commands with slit eyes focused on the man. Pulse and Dark growl in affirmation, and leap on the man, ripping him limb from limb as he screams and begs for mercy.

"I'm going down to start it, guys, feel free to join me when he's beginning Hella to keep me away." Thyra says codly. Nothing but a nod from Pulse shows she's been heard, so she rips open the door and storms down stairs.

She meets a guy on the steps, and shoves him backwards. He tumbles over the railing and lands head first below. "Oops." She says sarcastically, jumping down the rest of the way, and storming right up to the shocked bartender.

"Hi there. Thanks for, you know, helping, and all that!" Thyra growls sarcastically. The bartender backs away with his hands raised as she leaps over the counter.

"I-I...I had to man the-the bar!" He stutters helplessly. Thyra pins him to the ground, catching sight of a crate with a familiar object shown through the jar lid.

"Well, not anymore! Consider yourself relieved!" Thyra exclaims, jamming her dagger right into his stomach. He cries out, but his cries fade away to nothing. Thyra stands, grabbing the crate and setting it on the counter.

"What will it be? Death with a hint of fury?" Thyra asks the frozen people around her. A few of them back away, and run. A few pick up weapons.Thyra hops over the counter and gestures for them to come closer to her. "Let's see what you've got!"

The first man charged with a short sword, she knocks it aside with her dagger, and plunges it into his throat.

The next man charges with an axe, which ends up in his head.

The third and final grabs a chair, and charges. He raises it above his head, his balance thrown off, so all it really takes is a shove and he's on the ground, chair leg through his eye. She stabs him a dozen times to be sure he's dead, before standing up and dusting her hands as Pulse and Dark emerge, bloody around the mouths.

Dark mumbles something to Pulse, and she comes up to Thrya, and nuzzles her. Thyra cracks a smile and strokes the dragon. "I'm okay. Wanna blow this place?" She points to the open crate. Pulse croons in response. Thyra nods. "Let's go, we have an army to intercept." She says to Pulse and Dark. They slip out through the door, but Pulse lined up the money-shot through the window.

"Ready?" Thyra asks, making sure they're far enough away. An affirmative purr comes from Dark, so Pulse shoots, and the tavern explodes in a blaze of glory and destruction.

The flames reach high into the sky as they fly away, to look for the Dannish army, but Thyra couldn't get the memories out of her head of the past two weeks...two weeks, it's been that long since Dusty died, and she's mercilessly hunted down every Dannish soldier she could find, and now that she heard about the troops headed south, this could be the forty or fifty that still remain.

She didn't try to think about what she would do after they were killed. Take Rome, maybe. But she didn't have much of a desire without Dusty by her side. She looked over at Dark. What would he do?

"Keep a lookout." She muttered, patting Pulse's side as they all scanned the land below them. "This could be it, guys."

They fly for a few minutes, and it isn't long before they see smoke on the horizon, from dozens of campfires. Wagons, horses, and men were scattered below them, and everywhere you looked, was the symbol of the Dannish army.

Thyra's grip tightened on the saddle. She nodded. "Alright, this is it. Dark, Pulse, be careful. I'll not take any chances." She stood up in the saddle as they flew over the camp. She jumped off and landed on the ground with a thud, the Furies swooping over the men before circling high in the sky. She stood straight, pulling out her staff.

An arrow wizzes by her ear, but she throws her hand up and catches it. She snaps it in two and throws it to the ground. "I've hunted down every last one of you. I'll take you all, and your army will be no more." She snarls at the men around her, swinging her staff around in anticipation. "Who'd like to die first?"

She was answered as six men charged at her, two with swords, one with a spear, three with an axe.

She brought her staff up to block a sword, while kicking the spear out of the guy's hand. She slams her staff through his neck, and dodges again out of a sword swipe. She swipes his feet out from under him, and uses his own sword to decapitate him.

One man with his axe was about to swing, when something grabbed him and yanked him into the air, he screamed as he went up, then fell silent, and it wasn't but three seconds later that a fountain of blood fell from the sky, then his mutilated body.

Thyra looked up and waved at the dragons in thanks, before stabbing her dagger into the remaining sword guy's leg. As he screams, she grabbed his head and slammed it twice into the ground, dazing him, giving her enough time to retrieve her dagger and stab him twice in the throat. She felt a tingle in the air, and dodged out of the way of another axe. She started blocking the swipes and counter attacking with him, as the other guy was yanked into the air by Pulse.

Thyra swung her staff around, and the hook knocked the axe away. She then stabbed the hook through his eye.

Another man charged, seeing his friends being torn apart, and is knocked to the ground by a very angry Dark, who pins him and growls in his face. "N...n...nice dragon."

The detached head of Pulse's victim landed by his own head.

Dark decided he tortured the man enough, and snapped down on his chest, and started thrashing him around like a ragdoll, the man screamed and cried as his chest and torso was ripped open from Dark, and by the time Dakr was done, the man's chest was ripped open, his intestines were in the grass around him, when he was coughing up blood as his bloodshot eyes looked into Darks murderous eyes.

Thyra tacked a guy who was firing at Pulse, getting nowhere near her anyway, and stabbed him in the stomach so many times that blood coated her hands so badly it looked like she was the one injured. As he lay bleeding out, Thyra stomped on his face. Hard.

Men started dropping their weapons, knowing they couldn't win this, and started surrendering.

Thyra shook her head, her cold, slit eyes looking right at them.

"I don't give mercy." She swung her staff around, and charged at the men.

The men didn't realize that she was charging till after she stabbed her staff into a man's throat, and before they thought about grabbing their weapons, she killed four more.

Forty men remained, quivering where they stood. A few tried to put on a brave persona, but they weren't fooling anyone. Thyra moved quickly and unpredictability through the crowd. Men started dropping like flies, if not from Thyra's murderous rampage, then from the dragons. Soon four more men lay dead. 

Thyra pulled her staff out of a fifth, and looked around. "Where is your leader? Or have I killed him already?"

No one spoke out, out of stubbornness, or fear, was unknown. Thyra raised her arms. "Anyone? I'll be killing you all anyway."

A man, who was more clever than the rest, was silently coming up behind her, his sword raised.

She remained still, her senses going off. She pretended not to know, waiting for her time to pounce. She could hear the dragon's growling in warning, ready to act.

The man jumped up and thrusted his sword forward.

She twisted out of the way and grabbed the man by his shoulder, throwing him to the ground as her other arm ripped the sword out of his grip, and pointed it at his back. She smirked. "So this is your boss?" The man turned onto his back and stared up at her in fury, and shock that he had been beaten so easily.

"Bastard!" the man yells, and spits in Thyra's face.

She raises an eyebrow and wipes it away. "That's all you've got? No name? Well, you're worthless anyway."

"You and that Damn prisoner we have are bastards, killing all of our men!"

She rolled her eyes. "And you've never killed a soul? You really are pathetic, if you can't contain one prisoner."

"That Damn bastard killed more men than I could ever imagine, hope he kills you!"

"Is that so? Well, I might just have to release him then, could be a potential easy way to kill you all, without having to lift a finger."

"Good luck with that, I made sure to personally beat him, burn him, starve him, I would have made him my personal whore, but the Romans wanted him, and paid a hefty price as well."

"No wonder nobody likes you." Thyra rolls her eyes. "Well, if that's all you have to say, I'll be killing you now, unless you have any objections? Oh, wait. I don't care." She raised the sword.

The man rolled away and tried to run.

Thyra groaned in exasperation. "Why do they always do this?!"
The man was flattered by Pulse, who sat on him, before shooting Thyra a smug look, before grabbing one of the other men and flying off.

Thyra walked up to the groaning leader, and stabbed him through the stomach before he could do anything.

"You'll pay for this!" the leader yells.

"Bla bla bla, heard it all before." She kicked him over, and he lay, clutching his stomach as blood poured out uncontrollably.

Dark flew over the camp, when a scent hit his snout, that literally almost made him drop out of the sky in shock, he landed next to a wagon that had metal bars on it, and roared for Thyra.

Thyra shoves a guy she was choking to the ground without looking at him, and runs over to Dark, ignoring the thirty three men that were still alive.

"What is it?" She asked.

Dark whined as he pointed his head toward the wagon.

Thyra turned towards it, pulling the cloth that covered it down.

It took her five seconds for her to understand that the bloody mess laying in the corner was, indeed, a human.

It took her a further five seconds to realise the person was alive.

And a final five seconds to recognise said living, breathing creature.

She blinked, shaking her head. This wasn't real. She must have passed out.
She gripped the bars, it felt too real.

"...Hello?" She called out shakily to the prisoner. No response.

Pulse and Dark blasted at the bars, leaving a big enough hole for Thyra to go through. She entered as the dragon's paced outside. Her breath hitched as she got to the person's side.

Her eyes weren't playing tricks on her...

"Dusty." She choked on a sob, touching the living, breathing, bloody mess.

More blasts came from the dragon's, and Dark entered, running up and nudging the beaten sack of blood and bones one could call a human.

Dusty did not respond in the way expected. He, instead, remained still. Silent. In a deep unconscious state. But he was alive. That was what mattered right now.

They heard the sound of hoofbeats as a number of horses approached the camp

The dragons went on guard. Dark crouched over Dusty, while Pulse stood in front of the entrance, blocking anyone from entering. Thyra stood up, watching the intruders with a calm rage. Ready to protect.

"What the hell is going on here?" the lead rider said, as Thyra noticed the Roman symbol on them.

"What do you think?" Thyra replied dryly, crossing her arms.

"Who're you? You ain't a Dannish soldier."

"I ain't no Roman either. So, why don't you piss off, before we're forced to do some more killing, yeah?" Thyra gestures to Pulse, who snarls and starts building up a plasma blast.

"I don't listen to a peasant!" the leader yelled.

"And I don't listen to a prick!" Thyra snapped, producing her staff. She walked towards the man, Pulse letting her through, and before the man could react, she swung the staff at him, pushing him off the saddle.

"Oh, look, you're off your high horse! Now I suggest you run away with your tail between your legs, before you have no legs to run off on." Thyra threatened.

The man stood up, glaring at her furiously. "You have no idea who I am, girl!"

"Enlighten me, then." Thyra responded with a roll of her eyes.

The man stood up, and drew his sword, "I'm General Krogan of the Roman Empire, and you're going to die for that!"

"And I'm general Thyra of, I don't care!" Thyra responded, lifting her staff into an offensive position. A growl rang out from behind her, and out stepped Pulse and Dark.

"Oh, how rude of me! This is Pulse, this is Dark. They will gladly rip you to shreds if I don't get to you first!" Thyra grinned as the dragons started building plasma blasts up in their throats.

The atmosphere of the men behind Krogan went from confident to pure fear. Some began to slowly walk backwards, but most of the horsemen stayed in their position, though their horses were spooked.

Some of the horses even threw their riders off before running away, joining some of the men.

Thyra groans, disappointed they didn't all run. "Fine. Stay and fight. I'll kill all of you if it means his safety is ensured." She gestures at the cage, before turning towards Krogan. "You first, I'm assuming."

Krogan brought his sword up, and slowly advanced on her.

She got tired of his slow less and sped up, meeting him halfway before raising her staff to block his sword. It went like that for about thirty seconds, before Thyra got a hit on his legs, knocking him down. He blocked her staff from piercing him, but she still landed a kick to his stomach after he stumbled to his feet. He charged at her, and she dodged all of his attacks, which frustrated him more and more.

Thyra was glad she was fighting someone that actually put up a challenge, while Krogan was surprised that he was fighting, and still hasn't beaten, a woman.

"Finally! Someone with a little skill! Everyone I've fought for the last months have been pathetic." Thyra exclaims as they fight. She lands a punch to his shoulder.

"What the hell have you been doing to get so Damn strong woman?" Krogan asked as he barely blocked another blow.

"Second time I've been asked that. The last person who said that was viciously ripped apart by them." Thyra said, gesturing to the dragons, who were doing a fantastic job of keeping people away from the cage, and away from Thyra.

One of the men who tried to get to the cage was now laying on the ground, torn in two from where Pulse and Dark played a quick round of Tug-of-War.

"Huh! Just like that!" Thyra laughed, blocking a strike from Krogan and shoving him back. "Come on, big boy. Show me some skill!"

Krogan didn't wait for her to finish before he swung again, but Thyra easily blocked it, and she quickly spun her staff around, and twisted the sword out of his hand, he tried to reach for his secondary, but he felt the cold end of a blade being pressed against his throat.

Just as she went to end his life, a crunch got her attention. She glanced over her shoulder, looking at the cage, where someone was exiting. She nearly panicked, but calmed down when she realised it's just Dusty...just for her to panic again, knowing he shouldn't be up.

"Thyra..." He mutters, looking at her, before falling forwards, and down off the wagon, where he lays unconscious, once again, on the ground. She rushes towards him, Pulse watching her back as she and Dark crowd around Dusty.

"Dusty!" She breathes, checking to see if he's alive, and hasn't just died on her. Again.

Thankfully, he's breathing just fine. Thyra looks up at the dragons. "Alright, that's it. We have to blow this place. Kill as many as we can on our way out."

Thyra helps Dark gather Dusty up and onto his back, keeping him steady as they get ready to fight their way out. Krogan was slowly standing up from his position.

He looked up at them, and saw they were trying to escape, "Archers!"

Some men on the horses drew bows from their saddles, and took aim.

Thyra drew up her shield and blocked two arrows from hitting Dusty, before Pulse and Dark blasted the rest of the incoming arrows into ashes.

"Charge!" Krogan ordered, and the rest of the riders hoisted their spears and put their spurs into the horse's sides and charged.

Pulse shot two men straight away, Dark shot three, and Thyra shoved her staff into ones stomach, throwing him off his horse.

One of the horses actually stopped and bucked its rider off, who landed between Dark and Pulse, before running off.

Pulse shot at one last approaching rider, while Thyra beheaded the thrown rider swiftly.

"That...was over surprisingly quickly!" Thyra exclaimed, panting a little.

When they looked back up to Krogan he was still standing up, but standing in front of Roman Legionaries, a good three dozen of them.

Thyra sighed. "Alright, we need to get Dusty out of here. Dark, take Dusty and go wait in the trees, we'll cover you! Do not stop, do not hesitate!" Thyra ordered.

Dark nodded and stood ready, while Pulse stood next to Thyra.

"I'll give you this one chance to surrender, but if not, my legionaries will not hesitate to kill." Krogan said.

"I'll give you five seconds to run, before we rip you to shreds." Thyra counters, holding up her shield and staff. She nods to Pulse and then to Dark.

"You had your change, Charge!" The legionaries yelled and ran forward.

Thyra and Pulse ran forward, ready. Pulse fired two shots, which blew a fair few of them away, and Thyra started engaging about five in battle.

Dark ran/glided toward the tree line, and made it without any problems.

Pulse batted three away with her wings, and made sure to stay out of the way of weapons. Thyra manages to find a weak spot in one's armour, the neck, and strikes without hesitation.

Realising a lot of them shared this trait, Thyra and Pulse worked together to kill about five more in the next two minutes, only suffering small scrapes and cuts luckily.

Pulse shot another plasma blast, it was her second last shot. It took out about three of them, but there were still around fifteen soldiers left.

Dark watched from the tree line as Pulse was down to her last shot, and they were still heavily outnumbered, he gently put Dusty in the cover of a tree and took off into the sky, and turned to fire, hearing the familiar whistle as he dove.

Thyra looked up, hearing the whistle, and watched as five soldiers were blasted away by Dark. She wondered where Dusty was, but knew Dark wouldn't put him in danger.

Two of the soldiers looked up into the sky wondering 'where the hell did that come from' before another whilst started up, and they dropped to the ground.

Thyra finished off another soldier, and Pulse fired her last blast, taking two out. There were now five soldiers left, as well as Krogan.

Another blast from above sent the three standing legionaries into the dirt, dead, leaving only the two who actually hit the deck and Krogan, who was kicking them, trying to get them up.

Thyra ran up and stabbed one through the neck, while Pulse grabbed the other and flew up high, letting go and watching the body hit the ground at a lethal speed.

Now, there was only Krogan. Thyra stared him down as Pulse landed beside her, growling.

"You know what? You're not worth my time." Thyra glared at him. "And you also bargained for his life. So I guess," she struggled a little, admitting it. "I guess I'll be merciful. Just this once. Go. Now. Before I change my mind." She points away.

Krogan drops his head, and mounts his horse, then rides away.

Thunder rolled over head, and rain began pelting the battlefield

Thyra looked around. "Alright, we have a wounded warrior to take care of. Let's go, before sir prick returns." She mutters, pointing at Krogan. The dragons croon in agreement, and Thyra climbs onto Pulse. They take off, following Dark.

They land at their camp as night falls, the rain has stopped, but lightning is still popping around them. The horses were grazing as they laid Dusty down.

"Alright. Let's see how badly he's hurt." Thyra mutters after Pulse delights the fire. She removes the rags that somewhat resemble clothes, wincing at the sight underneath.

"Well, this isn't good." Thyra mutters. Poor Dusty had been through the wars.

He had lines on his back, obviously from a whip, he had been cut, burned, beaten and tortured, he was covered in bruises, his chest and torso was cut and bruised, his arms look like they were twisted, as someone tried to cause a horrendous amount of pain, and blood leaked from the corner of his mouth.

She glared angrily at the mess. She couldn't believe they had gotten away with this. She grabbed a bandage from Pulse's saddle bag, and started trying to clean him. She was soon pushed aside by Dark, who licked his rider all over.

"Well, that should help with the hesling, at least." Thyra muttered, grabbing some more bandages to dress the wounds. She cracked a sad smile as she finished. He had clearly gone through so much. She had thought he had died. But he was here now, injured, and under her care.

She lay down next to him, the dragons curling around them both protectively.

"I missed you." She muttered to the unconscious shape. "I missed you like crazy. More than anyone could understand." She sighed. Two weeks of hell, thinking he was dead. Thinking he was gone. But he was back. And she wasn't about to let him go again.