The sun gleamed brilliantly in the sky, carrion birds circling the battle below. Warriors fought tirelessly in the heat, gore and corpses littering the beach. The clash of swords, axes and shields ringing through the area as the two factions waged war. In the center of the chaos, a man fought harder than any around him. His storm grey eyes blazed with the burning fury of a berserker as his blade sliced through the shield of an enemy attacker. Blood squirted onto his face and bare chest as the sword slid effortlessly into the shoulder of his kill, sliding down to the center of the stomach. Raven pressed the bottom of his shoe against the dead man’s face, kicking the body to the ground and freeing his blade from the sheath of flesh. The savage warrior leans down briefly, picking up a fallen brother’s spear. He launches the rod with great force, impaling a man off of a rusty brown horse with a black mane and green and white armor.
Raven let’s out a snarl of bloodlust. sweat, blood and mud matting his hair and drying on his skin. However, his rage was cut short as he felt the sting of a blade slide through his back and out of his chest, just below the sternum. His eyes widen as he looks down at the bloodied tip of the sword sticking out of his front. The battle around him suddenly grew quiet and the other warriors seemed to slow down as he dropped to his knees. A numb tingling feeling seeped through his being as the last thing he felt was the blade being pulled from his back. The world around the Viking warrior began to fade, first into blurry images, then finally into the darkest black he could imagine.
Raven floated in the darkness for what felt like an eternity . He couldn't remember how he got into the darkness. For that matter, he couldn't remember anything before the darkness, nor could he quiet comprehend what was happening to him. The void was all he knew.
Then suddenly, he felt a pull, dragging him into a new, bright color. Raven landed in a nude heap in the grass. His body convulsed and writhed in the lush vegitation, pain erupting from his back and his stomach, just below the sternum . The warrior let out a cry of agony as his fingers clenched into the soft soil as he shook and screamed out in pain.
After fifteen minutes of the hellish torture, the memories came flooding back, memories of his family, his fellow warriors, and finally, his death. He rolled from his side onto his back, his calused hands rubbing against his chest, feeling for the sword tip. Feeling nothing, Raven pushed himself to his feet,taking in his colorful surroundings.
Hearing the sound of hooves pounding against the ground nearby, his right hand shoots to his sword, only to find it missing. Releasing a growl of anger at himself for his carelessness, he hurriedly begins to look through the shin high grass in hopes of finding his weapon before the enemy found him.
Unable to find his blade, Raven gets into a fighting stance, ready to take as many men with him as possible. As the horses come into veiw, the first thing Raven noticed was the lack of riders. The second thing he noticed , was the rainbow hued coats in front of him. His fists fell to his sides as he stared open mouthed at the colorful ponies "By the Gods..." he muttered as he finally noticed wings on two of them and a horn on another.