Night had fallen, providing the group the shadows they needed to hide around the enemy village. They were a little over a hundred, which was no much but considering they were the best of their kind it was largely sufficient. Armed appropriately, they lurked in the shadows for now, building on their bloodlust. Some had even stained their headpieces and helmets with animal blood, believing it would make them even more merciless. The sight was more or less surprising, as all crouching warriors were females and not a single man was in sight. But this was the way of their village and in fact the way of many other villages. While men would travel far, even across seas, women would protect the sacred lands that were theirs and fight against enemy villages. Tonight, one village would wipe another, if sufficient planning and strength was implied.<br/><br/>Matron Astrid believed in her fellow women like she believed in the very soil of her northern homeland. Tonight would not be a disappointment. She had thoroughly briefed her warriors after choosing the fiercest and most willing of them. Enemy blood would flow rich tonight, painting the snow red. Clad in her armor and fur collar, she shifted in her hiding spot, keeping a close eye on both her allies as well as their enemies. Astrid had instructed that only the youngest and finest warriors should be kept alive and brought back to their village. Everyone else had to die. Witnesses were always problematic, because it created the possibility of vengeance from another opportunistic village. She simply couldn't afford that, not now when her husband was away with his finest men and she was in control of the village for the most part. One of her sons had stayed behind because he was a disgrace in his father's eyes, but aside from him and a couple of weak elderly men, there were no males in the village to protect it should something happen. Everything depended on Astrid's performance tonight.<br/><br/>She cast a worried look on her daughter Inge, who was hiding further ahead, closer to the first houses of the village. There was no doubt that the girl was a fine warrior and in her prime age, but her overly brash behavior was extremely problematic. She showed no respect to Astrid and this made her uneasy everytime she brought her daughter to a battle. She did not doubt Inge's skills, but her ability to think with common sense. Perhaps mentally she still hadn't reached the age her body had.<br/><br/>Astrid looked up to the clear night sky and gritted her teeth in the unbearable northern cold that bit her skin. Her breath formed steam in the air that was completely still around her. Lights were beginning to disappear from the village. With the exception of a couple of torches here and there that lit the path between houses, it was becoming dark. She estimated it was slightly past midnight. As the last fire inside an abode had been blown out, Astrid raised her hand slightly as a signal. The women moved forward swiftly yet silently, their leather boots pushing through the powder snow. Inge moved as well, being one of the first to reach a house.<br/><br/>Once Astrid was confident that her warriors had reached their respective spots closer around the village, next to houses or natural formations, she whistled loudly. The attack started in a blink of an eye and the silence of the dark winter night was torn apart in a second. Before she knew it, her fierce warriors had begun their raid through houses and tents, killing anyone who would stand on their way and not show any particular skill in fighting. Babies were left to freeze in the snow, if there were any. As Astrid stepped forth to confront some of the enemy warriors who had managed to pick up their weapons, she heard the arrogant scream of her own daughter, filled with bloodlust:<br/><br/>"I drew first blood, in the name of Tyr!"<br/><br/>This clearly encouraged the other warriors to fight just as heartlessly and aggressively as her. Inge had tendency to strive for first blood, which she would smear on her face and arms to bring out whatever animal lived inside her. At times her aggressive nature frightened even Astrid, but only because she wondered if she was just as menacing in the eyes of others as her daughter. Inge proceeded forward, blocking the path of anyone who might be fleeing or trying to attack her by pushing their back with her shield and then swinging her deadly mace that glistened in the blood of her enemies under the northern moon.