An excerpt from The Saga of Elsif the Shield-maiden.

“And when the ghouls descended upon the shield-maiden,

Their deaths they had paid-in

For no beast was quicker and more fearsome than Elsif

The Shield-maiden and Isjord’s monster, herself!”

The campfire’s light twinkled in Torvald’s eyes as he paused to gauge Elsif’s reaction. His wiry beard had caught bits of meat, giving him a sinister look in the twisted shadows of the swamp. She didn’t seem fazed by what he had just told her, so much so that even a stone held more fright in its smooth face.

“This is the truth?” was all Elsif asked, her tone giving away neither fright nor curiosity.

“Aye,” Torvald said. “Ghouls can take a man’s head off before he can even blink. Whatever you do, don’t look them in the eye.” He grinned, then gulped down his drink before he continued.

“Or yer dead.”

Elsif said nothing, opting instead for a swig of mead. She was a curious creature to Torvald. A woman so fearless, it seemed not even an Old God could frighten her. He had been her retainer for as long as he could remember—ever since he’d first held an axe.

“Perhaps,” he continued. “They are here right now, watching us.”

He oohed and aahed as if he were telling a child a bedtime story. Elsif ignored him, focusing on the roasted drumstick in her hand. Once more, he opened his mouth to say something, but a branch snapped from somewhere in the undergrowth. By instinct, Torvald glanced in the direction of the noise, and his eyes widened. “Shi—”

A disgusting squelch sounded from Torvald’s direction. With a thud, his severed head rolled to the ground, stopping at Elsif’s feet. His cold, lifeless eyes stared back at hers, and she couldn’t help but feel a pang of guilt. It was a shame, really—she had just begun to like him after all these years. But any feeling of remorse quickly went away when she heard his killer prowling about. In her mind, the best way to mourn the death of a comrade was to brutally murder the one who had slain him.

Her nostrils filled with the stench of death and decay, allowing her to quickly place the creature’s location—behind her. She whirled around, meeting its ravenous gaze. Its body was thin, its limbs lanky, too long to be a human’s, yet its form was still humanoid in overall shape, other than the pointed ears and sharp wolfs-teeth.

It leapt at her, and time slowed to a standstill. The ghoul’s craven yellow eyes glowed like fireflies flitting about in the dark. It was fast, she could admit. Something about their physiology had blessed them with unnatural speed.

But she was faster. The ghoul reached her, only for its face to meet with her drawn shield. She slammed the creature into the mud, then rammed the edge of her shield down with such force that it separated the ghoul’s head from its scrawny shoulders. With a shudder, its limp body sank into the bog, but more were coming. She could hear their chitters along the edges of the treeline. If they all rushed her at once, that could spell her end, no matter how quick she could move...