Cursed Blessing

Sitting on the throne of a freshly conquered town hall, the mighty chieftain enjoyed a few moments of sleep, his right hand resting on his rune engraved broad sword and his head resting on his other hand. His finely combed hair laid braided and his beard short, to prevent anyone from grabbing hold of his beard with ease during battle. His long hair signaled his high status.

Freya had watched the warrior, impressing her with his battles, his fair of face and body. She watched him know while he slept. He could be her champion. She smiled. Like a soft breeze she entered his dream, whispering his name.

The proud warrior opened his eyes; the grand hall was nice and tidy. Soft morning light shined from the hole in the ceiling designed to let out the smoke from the large fire pit in the middle. The fire was now cold; he sat up in the throne and gripped his sword with a sturdy hand.

She appeared in his hall, striding towards him. "Do you know me?”

The warrior stood up from the chair, leaving the sword implanted into the wooden floor. “My goddess Freya.” he went down on his knees to show respect.

She nodded, stopping a short distance from him,

"I have watched you Viking, you have done well. People whisper your name in fear, yet you are fair to those you conquer." She walked around the room stopping again by his side. "It is always interesting in human dreams." She picked up his braided hair and played with it idly. "I have chosen you to be my champion, Viking"

“I am honored” he bowed his head more. “To what end do you wish me to be your champion?”

She dropped his braid, walking a few steps from him. "Champion of the beasts and protector of lands. Too many come here that do not believe in our ways. They must be stopped."

“I will extend my campaign to cleanse these lands from the nonbelievers in your name” he stood up and raised his head with pride.

"Good. I knew I could depend on you. I will give you a gift. A gift of the beasts, their strength will be your strength. As long as you serve me Viking no weapon will pierce your skin."

“I am at your bidding and will not fail you” he once again took his seat on the throne and placed his hand on the sword like always.

The sky's darkened suddenly, the Viking stiffen, going still. She felt a presence and turned quickly placing herself between the unwanted visitor and her champion.

"YOU! How dare you come here. None of this is business of yours. Be gone." She snarled at the man she once called husband, but he had left her so now her heart was like stone to him.
A man in black robes stood at the door of the great hall. “Why do you bother with the fate of man?” the male god asked as he silently walked towards them. “They are weak, pathetic and just here for our amusement”

"They are not. The fate of man is just as important as the fate of us. For gods only exist when someone believes in them. You want to cease to exist. Not that I would mind it if went 'Poof'."

“Ruling these sheep with an iron fist is far more interesting then ruling them with a gentle paw.” the god walked up to the Viking and looked at him. “Look at him, so proud, so full of himself, so weak”

She moved closer. "Stay away from him. He is not as weak as you may think." She smirked. "I've blessed him. His arm will never fail, nor with his strength. Power will flow in his veins. He is my champion. Mine."

“Alright then” he walked behind the throne; quickly he threw his own magic placing a curse on the Viking. Even with her blessing, it would only lead to death. “I will wait until this one proves himself to be a prime specimen of his own species and will lead to many human deaths”

She narrowed her eyes. He was being too pleasant. "Death is just a part of life."