DescriptionGunnar the Berserk is the first boss encounter for Bludheim (Area: Malovar River). As with all bosses, Gunnar the Berserk can also be battled in a raid with 4 available levels: Normal, Hard, Legendary and Nightmare.
|Gunnar the Berserk Essence||Used to summon Gunnar the Berserk (Raid)||Gunnar the Berserk quest boss|
|Hrolf's Helm||55||55||69||50||Increases Energy by 3||Quest boss - Gunnar the Berserk|
|Wrestling Contest Invitation||Used as an ingredient to craft Mestr Rekkr Essence and Hauberk of Gold||Gunnar the Berserk quest boss|
|“More of them,” says Roland.
You yank your blade from a warrior’s corpse, wincing as it scrapes against his mail shirt, and turn to see another longship approaching from across the water. It’s packed with screaming Nords, their weapons beating against their shields and adding to the din of their war cries. Behind it is another ship, its deck seemingly empty. Doubtless its occupants lie dead, victims of the warriors who now come to you in search of fresh kills.
Missiles fly, as your archers and slingers open fire. A Nord collapses in the approaching ship, and another tumbles out into the water, disappearing beneath it with a splash. But then their round shields come up, warding off the rest of the fire. A fireball rushes towards them, hurled by one of your mages. But it too breaks apart on one of the shields – which briefly glows blue as the flames disperse along its surface. So those blue dragons aren’t just for show…
A few javelins hurtle back in return, and your companions dart aside to avoid them. One flies right for the shaman woman, but she simply holds up her hand, and a glowing green rune appears in the air between her and the weapon. The javelin stops as suddenly as if it had struck a stone wall, and clatters to the deck.
The enemy longship draws up against the one you’re standing on, and grappling hooks are hurled, their teeth biting into the wood and binding the vessels together.
“No,” says the shaman, as one of your soldiers moves to cut the ropes. “Let them come.”
You nod, and wave the others back.
The Frost Wyrm Nords clamber on board, give one final cry, and charge into battle. In such close confines they don’t even bother with any semblance of formation – they simply throw themselves at your companions.
A burly warrior, his bare chest daubed in war-paint, shoulders his way through the crowd. A layer of soft flab wobbles at his belly, and the paint there seems to dance as it undulates. But his arms are thick with powerful, martial muscle. His eyes are bloodshot, and his face is twisted in an expression both manic and murderous. He swings the twin axes he clutches, their gleaming blades like metal demons seeking a victim to feed upon. One of your Nord allies falls to the deck as they find their prey, a gaping wound in his chest.
You’ve heard of berserkers, the savage warriors of the north. Time to find out if they’re as unstoppable as people say…
|Your blade plunges into the beserker's bare abdomen, tearing through his soft flesh, penetrating the innards beneath. He just laughs, and hacks at your arm - forcing you to let go of the weapon lest the limb be lost as well. It remains embedded there, protruding from his body like a bizarre ornament.
He lunges at you, his axe swinging for your throat. you step backwards to avoid it, and your heel catches something. As you fall, you realize that it's a corpse - a Frost Wyrm warrior getting revenge from beyond the grave.
You hit the deck, your back smashing against the hard wood. The beserker looms above you, triumph and bloodlust on his crazed face. His axes cut through the air, cleaving down to split your skull.
You kick out his legs, and your boot catches him with a heavy desperate blow. His attack turns in to a trip as the limb is knocked from under him. He falls towards you like an avalanche rushing down from a mountain peak, a cry of outrage tearing from his lips. You scramble aside, shoving his nearer arm away with both of your own - fending off the deadly blade. Now it's his turn to smash against the deck, and there's a thud as your weapon's hilt, still sticking out of his gut, strikes the wooden boards. The impact hammers the blade further through his body. A fresh spurt of blood erupts from his back. The beserker flails once, his thick arms and legs thrashing like a fish dying upon the shore. Then he's still.
His clansmen have fared no better. As you get to your feet, you see that some have leapt into the icy river, and are swimming with frantic strokes - trying to avoid the arrows which plunge into the water around them.
Some of the other Frost Wyrm longships are fleeing, launching themselves down the river with powerful oar strokes. Others float unmanned, their crews slaughtered. One is sinking under the water, only its raised prow and stern showing on either side of the mast. You wonder who managed to do that.
"So you're the one they told me about," says a voice from behind.
You turn around, and see the shaman. Blood is smeared across her face, making it appear savage in spite of the beauty which still shows through beneath the crimson mask. Her hair is coated in the same sticky red, warring with the gold to create something what seems very much like fire.
"You fight like a Nord," she continues, in her strange accent that makes each word seem foreign and exotic - or perhaps barbaric. "This is good. It will take strong fighters to kill the Frost Wyrms, and avenge my people.