[ WP ] Your son did as your will said and gave you a viking funeral because you thought it sounds cool . Beyond , a viking ghost yells at you for doing so and tosses you a weapon . Good Luck , Steve . It 's going to be a long afterlife .

Dead. Again. 
 
 Steven groaned and pushed himself out of the mud. That had been a new pain for him - an arrow through the eye, right out the back of his skull. He flinched again at the thought of it. He touched his wound, and was surprised to find that he was still whole. 
 
 Suddenly, a boot landed next to his head, splashing him with blood and dirty water. Steven lay very still, pretending to be dead - well, *more* dead. Sometimes, he wished he was. 
 
 He usually got that wish. 
 
 `` Still on your ass, recruit?'T is dawn! We fight!'' Said the viking warrior who owned the boot. 
 
 `` Please... I have n't eaten... in days...'' Steven groaned. 
 
 `` You do n't get fed here for getting killed in practice, son. Up! It's not like you will die of hunger, after all... you're already dead!'' 
 
 The man hauled him to his feet, laughing uproariously at his own joke. He thrust a halberd into Steven's hands the moment that he could stand. Steven took it, his hands shaking. 
 
 `` Please... must I fight? I'm not... never going to be strong enough to win. I'm not one of you... hell, I'm not even supposed to be here. Ca n't you... just kill me, so I can get some rest?'' He said. The viking rearranged his eye patch, making Steven flinch. 
 
 `` Son...'' The viking began, looking at him pityingly. `` Are you... a coward?'' 
 
 Steven frowned at the words. `` No, I'm... I do n't want to be, I just...'' he trailed off, not looking the man in the face. 
 
 `` Let me show you something, my child. Before the battle begins in true.'' The man said. `` Do you see, on the battlefield... do you see all of the skulls? The bones?'' 
 
 Steven nodded. It was true, from what he could tell - the battlefield was littered with charred skulls, mandibles, and other grisly carnage untouched by the circling crows above. It was gruesome, to say the least. Steven hated those grounds. He could n't go two steps without snapping an ancient femur. 
 
 `` What of them?'' He asked the man. `` Old skulls... I'm sure you see new ones every day, with all the bloodshed.'' 
 
 `` No, son.'' The viking said, shaking his head and making his scraggly white beard wag over his belly. `` Not like this, not *these* skulls. Those are the skulls of the weak. The cowards, those who gave up instead of fighting. The rest of us, well, we always wake up in the light of the dawn. But they... they have made their choice. I give thanks to them every day for reminding me never to give up.'' 
 
 Steven felt his stomach roil. `` I... I ca n't be like them.'' He said. 
 
 `` And you shall not, so long as you continue to fight.'' Replied the viking. `` You have n't failed yet, boy. And say what you will... but I think you *were* meant to be here. Why, on your first day, I thought you would drop your axe the moment you were given it! Now, you are lasting longer and longer. Be proud, and fight on, knowing that you will be stronger every day!'' 
 
 Steven swallowed, nodding. `` Al... alright. So, when do we begin?'' He asked. 
 
 A cry came from behind a small outcrop of trees, and three enormous warriors leapt out out into the open, charging Steven and his viking companion. 
 
 `` It appears that we being now.'' The viking chuckled. `` Take heard, son of man! For today, you fight side by side with Odin, king of the gods!'' 
 
 He charged in as well, slaying the first man with a well-timed thrust of his lance before the man could even pull back his hammer. 
 
 `` Well, boy? What are you waiting for?'' Odin yelled. Steven smiled. 
 
 He squared his shoulders, and after a moment he, too, entered the fray - screaming all the while.
