Blood and Thunder

The morning fog is at its thickest and visibility is low. A guard at the shore is on the verge of falling asleep, leaning heavily on his spear. The village behind him is sleeping unsuspectingly. A flote of dragonheaded longboats silently reaches the shore. Only the clinking of mail shirts and swords breaks the utter silence as men disembark and in large groups begin to make for the village. Only carnage and chaos follows.