[hr][hr][h1][b][i][color=gray][center]Gerric Roar Halfden[/center][/color][/i][/b][/h1][center][img]https://i.pinimg.com/originals/23/11/87/23118790e48211bc067dd5cf80a09c86.jpg[/img]
[color=Gray]Location:[/color] Niflheim 
[color=Gray]Skills:[/color]Blades, Water manipulation[/center]
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Gerric knelt over the body of his fallen comrade, her dirty blonde hair matted over his bloody hands as he lift her head up off the cold hard ground and searched her soft features for signs of life. There were none. Her icy blue eyes stared emptily up at the sky. 
Behind him, the sound of shuffling snow and rattling bones neared without notice. A one footed Draugr limped towards him alternating between foot and shin as it stumbled forth with out stretched arms and a hungry abandon. 

A moment before the claw like fingers raked across his back, Gerric twisted and shift his weight, his friends abandoned head fell lifeless to the snow as he drove a closed blunt fist up towards the skeletal figures jaw. Quicker than his flying fist, a silver liquid flew from the drinking horn at his side and splashed upon his hand. The blunt ineffective force of his uppercut was replaced by a long steel blade that grew from the now solid gauntlet he wore. 

Gerric’s raising force tore the draugr’s head from its already dead body as he came to stand. He growled with rage as he stared up at the half-rotten lifeless face impaled upon his raised bladed gauntlet. He brought the creatures face closer to his own and opened his mouth wide as he let out a loud blood curling war cry that echoed his wrath out across the frozen tundra. 

His emotions took control of his magic and the steel gantlet began to melt away letting the Draugr’s head fall to meet its body. In the wake of the vile creatures dark face Gerric saw the consequences of his outburst. He had called the attention of all undead in earshot. All around dark silhouettes in the white snow began to redirect towards him. 
[i]Good.[/i] he thought to himself. [i]Let my brothers flee.[/i] he knew death out here would be truly that and if his was to come, hopefully it would be in the place of any more of his Einherjar allies. 

He owed these people that came with him nothing but coin, barely even knowing their names, yet somehow their deaths weighed heavily on him. Not all were dead though, not yet anyway. Gerric would try keep it that way. Drawing the dripping liquid metal back through the air to join the rest still on his hand, it rolled over his body and made its way back into its drinking horn. 

Looking around Gerric noticed what might be a cave in the distance, a draugr passing it by. It looked like not only a good place to hide but also fight. It’s narrow entrance would funnel the numerous enemies into a narrow line, making their numbers worth naught. Unfortunately that was not where he was going. Hoping the others would find it, Gerric instead ran across the icy ground leading the dead away from there as he raced towards the water like his life depended on it. Although it lengthened his journey he sprung from left to right zigzagging his path to remain unpredictable to any Draugr archers. In no time he was panting and sweating as his heart pounded heavily in his chest. 

The ocean was his domain and would be his best advantage over the undead, he just had to make it there. He flung a heavy knife out through the air here and there to clear his path all’s whilst running his heart out.