Pat the Irish

Concept art for my viking story, The Drunken Sagas: Monsterous Mead.
Pat the Irish

Pat was a hardheaded Irishmen who fought against the Viking occupation of Ireland. Armed only with his Burda club was woefully out number and thus was captured by a horde of Vikings and brought back to Norway as a thrall, which was the Viking slave class. He did not acclimate to being a thrall very well; he would pick fights, steal, and lie. How he survived the first few years was nothing short of a miracle. Through his time as a thrall he learned the Viking language and came to appreciate their country, in particular the ale he took to pilfering.

One day the village where he lived was being terrorized by a mad hill witch; his master gladly gave him to her in exchange for the her leaving the village alone.The hill witch quickly became infatuated with the young thrall; she placed glamour on herself to trick him into believing she was beautiful and desirable, and he quickly became infatuated with the hill witch and she made him her sex slave.

After Pat had lived with her for several years, the hill witch was approached by young nobleman one day about a warrior that he could not best. A few weeks before a young berserker and his companions came to his father’s drinking hall and challenged them to a contest of strength in exchange for draughts of ale. They were mighty and won many of their battles and quickly became hall favorite. No matter how the young nobleman tried he couldn’t beat the berserker so he needed help in order to regain his glory and his father’s respect. The hill witch agreed to help, though in exchange she wanted copious amounts of blood and gold.

The hill witch packed and small bag and she and Pat left the small cabin in the hills for the drinking hall down in plains by the fjords. Her scheme was simple, poison the young berserker before he fought with the nobleman. Before the fight she moved up to the young berserker she placed a vial of poison in his ale and encouraged him to drink it before the fight for good luck. He drank every last drop. The berserker fought the young nobleman and still he bested him. The young noble flew into a rage at the witch, and if it weren’t for Pat he surely would have killed her. The hill witch was bewildered; the poison should have killed anything that wasn’t a god or a frost giant. The witch had another plan, she knew the nobleman wouldn’t like it, but he would earn him the respect that he sought. She would place a glamour on Pat that would make him look like the nobleman and the next night he would fight the berserker and win. The nobleman protested but was convinced by the witch that it was the best course of action, he eventually agreed but only after she agreed to also place a glamour on him so that he could watch the contest as well, the witch hesitated, though when he offered more gold she agreed.

The next night Pat entered the hall disguised as the nobleman and quickly challenged the berserker to a fight. The witch quickly found a place next to the ring; she needed to focus on Pat or the glamour wouldn’t stand up to a beating, and the nobleman sat next to her to make sure that her man could beat the berserker. In the ring the two began their fight; they were matched blow for blow. The berserker was confused and surprised at the change in style that the nobleman fought that night, it was much more like his own and wild and unpredictable. Pat quickly gained the upper hand and knocked the berserker into the crowd around the ring. He hit the witch, who fell into the dagger that the noblemen had at her back in case she failed him. This did not kill the witch, as they are very difficult to kill it simply broke her concentration and every one lost their glamour including her. The witch grew crazy and flew into a blind rage, she froze the young nobleman and turned and attacked Pat. Realizing that the threat was no longer the nobleman but the witch, the berserker jumped up and took the brunt of the attack meant for Pat saving his life.

At that second Pat could see who the witch truly was and he was enraged that she had tricked him for so long. Pat flew into a rage and threw himself at the witch. Fighting her tooth and nale as she tried to cast her magic on him, her spells of ice and wind quickly started exploding out of her wildly and with no rhyme or reason. The berserker’s companions quickly ran into the ring to help fight the witch. One of the berserker’s companions threw a knife to Pat and he stabbed the witch, and she fell to the floor and shattered like glass. The glass hissed and crackled and a screaming specter exploded from the shards and flew away to the hills to the north, as witches are very hard to kill.

Pat was sitting in the rubble of the witch as the Berserker approached him with a large horn filled with ale, the berserker said, “I guess you won, so here is your prize.” They both laughed and shared the ale and became quick friends. Pat had nowhere else to go and found he enjoyed the company of the Berserker and his companions, so he decided to join them for more fights, women and ale.

I posted this today because this would have been Pat's Birthday, I think much like my portrait of my grandfather I will be doing a picture of Pat every year on this day.