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Let the Viking Carnage Begin

Another trailer for a forthcoming Viking movie from Russia has been released, and it looks…slaughterific? Apparently occurring (or at least beginning) in the vicinity of 10th century Kiev, the movie tells the tale of Vladimir of Novgorod, a Viking prince forced into exile after his brother is murdered.


Described by Screen International as the “Russian Game of Thrones,” the film follows Prince Vladimir's escape from a murderous step-brother and eventual efforts to build a force of Varangians to regain his birthright. Somewhere in there it looks like they do battle with steppe nomads and Byzantine soldiers.

Let the Viking Carnage Begin

Find the movie on IMDB here:

This seems like the perfect opportunity to wear a Til Valhall shirt.

If you really want to get into character, take a Viking horn mug with you. It'll hold popcorn or soda easy.

Another option of course is a Viking doorkicker patch, as is the Nordic Recon Power Tee.

“A furore Normannorum libera nos, Domine.”

And now a few words from the Hávamál.

Maxims for All Men

Praise day at even, a wife when dead,
a weapon when tried, a maid when married,
ice when 'tis crossed, and ale when 'tis drunk.
Hew wood in wind, sail the seas in a breeze,
woo a maid in the dark, — for day's eyes are many, —
work a ship for its gliding, a shield for its shelter,
a sword for its striking, a maid for her kiss;

Drink ale by the fire, but slide on the ice;
buy a steed when 'tis lanky, a sword when 'tis rusty;
feed thy horse neath a roof, and thy hound in the yard.

The speech of a maiden should no man trust
nor the words which a woman says;
for their hearts were shaped on a whirling wheel
and falsehood fixed in their breasts.

Breaking bow, or flaring flame,
ravening wolf, or croaking raven,
routing swine, or rootless tree,
waxing wave, or seething cauldron,

flying arrows, or falling billow,
ice of a nighttime, coiling adder,
woman's bed-talk, or broken blade,
play of bears or a prince's child,

sickly calf or self-willed thrall,
witch's flattery, new-slain foe,
brother's slayer, though seen on the highway,
half burned house, or horse too swift —
be never so trustful as these to trust.

Let none put faith in the first sown fruit
nor yet in his son too soon;
whim rules the child, and weather the field,
each is open to chance.

Like the love of women whose thoughts are lies
is the driving un-roughshod o'er slippery ice
of a two year old, ill-tamed and gay;
or in a wild wind steering a helmless ship,
or the lame catching reindeer in the rime-thawed fell.

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