#einherjar

These warriors are the elite of the elite within the Guardians of Asgård, chosen among the various Warhosts for their unique qualities or accomplishments. High King Surtr Muspelsson offers these warriors a place within his own Warhost, to serve directly under his royal banner and his personal command.

Those who accept this offer are immediately removed from their current Warhost, their old armor often returned to their previous commander, bidding farewell to their brethren.

The newly chosen are then taken back home to Midgård and escorted to the sprawling Temple-complex outside the main city of Kalmaholm, the densely wooded foothills a sanctuary from the city and outsiders.

Deep within the main temple lay a Well of Urd, a focal point for the Mortal Realm to interact with the Gods' Realm. A ritual is performed here with the Chosen and the High King before the Well of Urd, one that sends the soul of the Chosen through the nine realms, all the way till they witness their own death. They are forced to witness their demise again, again, and again, till that event is burned into their soul and body. This death of theirs could be only months away, it could be decades from this moment, or even millennia in the future. Only the Chosen and High King Surtr knows.

As their soul returns to their body, they are imbued by the water of the Well, granted a portion of the strength and wisdom from the ages the chosen warrior will have had in their future. Now, no longer were they mortal Astartes, now they were Einherjer.

The Warriors At The End Of All Things.

Clad now in ancient Cataphractii Terminator Armour, bestowed with the heaviest weaponry to crack open any foe, be they man, beast, or warmachine. They stride through the battlefields alongside their High King, tower shields deflecting blade and bolt, their Frost Axes and Warhammers splitting apart anyone with arms reach. Trundling through blasted landscapes or through the corridors of enemy craft, they are relentless in their advance towards the enemy.

Whenever the Einherjer takes a mortal wound, even one that would outright kill them, they do not stay dead long. Their hallowed flesh regrows, organs and bones knitting back together and their armour melding back unblemished. It is not yet their time to fall, not until they are at their prophesied moment, and until that very point in time; the Einherjers are immortal, Perpetual.

Slowly getting back up onto their feet, dusting off the grime and blood, and resume their sacred charge upon the battlefield. Their dark humor amongst themselves of their countless "deaths", and the look upon their foes or allies whenever the Einherjer stand back up.

But when Surtr bellows the order, these behemoths unleash their wroth. Their slow bulk now turns to an unstoppable stride, the ancient atomatic reactors roaring in unison with vox-hailers bellowing war-cries. The bloodline of Midgård is that of Terra, the lineage of the Thunder Warriors awakens in their hearts, those who conquered the Cradle of Humanity under the Emperor's Lighting Banner. The Einherjer now accept no quarter, no prisoners, no mercy. The High King has signed the death warrent, and they are it's executioner.

The Soturit, the mortal soldiers of Midgårdian military, gave the nickname of "Walking Thunder" when referring to the Einherjer, for they know that when thunder is heard, the storm is soon upon the them all.

The First Einherjer, the one who was the progenitor of this cadre, was a fellow clan-mate from Surtr's clan back on Terra and had been at Surtr's side ever since. His birth name is known only to the Ancients (the few remaining forebearers now entombed in Dreadnoughts) and High King Surtr. He took on the name of Sigúrd, after an old Terran hero famed for slaying elder terrors from Terra's past. Sigurd's Saga is lengthy, it's murals and Rúnstones elaborate and wide, many soldiers within the Kingdom pay tribute to him and bear an icon or carve his name on their blades and shields. Warriors who have felled great beasts are granted a more official sigil carved into their armour as a symbol of overcoming these monstrous beings.

Thunder rolls in over the horizon, but no lighting or rain is seen. The ground rumbles, but no tanks or titans are seen. The wind howls with wroth, but no storm is seen.

The High King walks upon the field.

The Einherjer come.

The Einherjer Come.

Ég heyri einhvern syngja hálf-innminnt lag. Og ég hlusta og brosi meðan ég seðja hungur spjóts míns, og söngurinn verður skýrari og sætari og sterkari.

Hvernig dauði manns berst er jafn mikilvægt og hvernig hver maður mætir honum þegar hann kemur að honum. Ég mæti mínum í baráttu við óvin frá landamærunum -- spjót mitt finnur hjarta hans á meðan hans eigið blað bítur mig.

Snerting á öxl minni og augun mín opnast -- ég er ekki dauður ennþá, þótt hrafnarnir nálgist. Ég horfi í augu eins gullin og augu arnarins, sjá hárið rennandi rautt eins og blóðið á spjótinu mínu.

Nú er ég aftur ungur maður og ég lifi fyrir spjótdansinn og blóð mitt er eins heitt og elsta stríð guðanna. Og þegar Ragnarök koma, mun ég berjast við hlið þeirra, spjót mitt og skjaldmey mín, að dyrum Valhallar.