[ WP ] Vikings take mushrooms that fend off death but kills them if their heart rate goes too low .

`` Cuyler,'' I growled through the darkness. `` *Now*.'' 
 
 The bowman planted his feet and drew shaft to cheek, his body eerily still. As he extended his tongue and tasted the bitter wind, we shifted restlessly. Einar and Destin rose up and down, feet and hands planted in the cold earth. I clenched my teeth and strained against my burning legs. *104. 105. 106. * 
 
 *TWANG*. 
 
 Just when I thought Cuyler must surely drop to the ground, flesh stained with the grey pallor of death, he released. The night swallowed the arrow, wind whistling through its black fletching. Cuyler immediately jumped into the air, and when his boots crashed against frost he threw himself skyward once again. Below us, someone screamed. A wet, gurgling wail. 
 
 `` It is time, Eirik,'' Einar said between puffs. He rose. The heavy butterfly ax previously slung around his back swayed, eager as a cobra. 
 
 I nodded and unsheathed *Helgafgell*. It's blade glowed a dull red. `` To victory, brothers. To rage and blood and lust for death. To *life*!'' 
 
 `` *TO RAGE AND BLOOD AND LUST FOR DEATH! TO LIFE*!'' They bellowed in response, and we charged down the hill, four demons of the night. Ax, broadsword, spear, and *Helgaffell* flashed in their torchlight. 
 
 As the first man's skull shattered with a splash, I screamed maniacally. Delightedly. We let them surround us. We shattered their shields, clove their swords, painted the snow with their fluids. We reveled in Death's odors. We cut their nets and opened their throats, bashed their sternums and hacked off groping hands. 
 
 In battle is life.
