Hurtling a boulder and landing in a soft wash, Kolskegg dropped low. In a sure and practiced motion his right hand dug into the magical bag on his belt, and came out with three glowing runes. Tossing them in the air, the orange-red runes sizzled then burned out as their magical energies were released into nature. 

Glancing over the lip of the small wash, the Viking spotted movement amongst the brush. Drawing Alyward from its sheath, Kolskegg grinned wolfishly.  Whatever man or beast resided in these wodes, they would for certes not be expecting a Viking Gothi to be hunting them. 

Already the temperature was beginning to drop, slowly at first but it would increase until the fury of Ymir’s hoary realms would sluice through the nine worlds and center on the one who summoned them.  Adjusting his grip, Koskegg ran low along the wash in the direction of the soldiers named Earle and Yem. 

Behind him soft frost coated the wash, and the plants surrounding it.  The closest figure, the one called Earle had stopped when he saw the Viking emerge from the wash, closing the few yards between them in a matter of a second or so.  His weapon at the ready he lifted his rifle and fired a burst at the Viking, striking him square in the chest. 

Kolskegg felt the hammering blows from the rifle in the chest, dropping him to a knee as the bullets made contact with the chain shirt. Such power from such a small black stick, clearly these were not men as he kin them. No these were sorcerers, perhaps from Svartalfheim.  

As the man approached he was speaking to the air. His magic rod still pointed at the Viking. Grinning, Kolskegg stood up, charging the man who was shouting at him in a language that he didn’t understand.  It didn’t matter. In one fluid motion, the blued sword known as the lathe of heaven had cleaved the man clean through. The slice came up and caught Earle in the left hip, ripping upward and exiting through the man’s right shoulder close to the neck. Again the fire rod spat, but the magic hit the shield, some of the magic riddle the man’s body as he died in a horrible spasm of muscle contractions.

Hearing a shout and running, Kolskegg wheeled and darted back into the wash, running back the way he came. Everywhere around him frost was settling and the temperature was now below freezing. The hunt was afoot. Kolskegg knew the black wizards and their fire rods would come, but he would be hunting them as well.