Ronal Barbaren


In the beginning there was only darkness.

And in the darkness was born the demon Zaal, -

Ruler of the Underworld -

And the oppressor of humans kind.

But from the shadows came Crane,

the warrior of warriors -

and bearer of the God Sword.

He free human kind -

and led them to victory.

But the price of victory was high.

For Crane suffered a wound

through the heart, -

- which bled for seven days

and seven nights.

And a hundred warriors

drank his blood.

And were given his strength.

And Crane looked at them

and saw that all was good.

And then he died.

Thus, the barbarians were created, -

Sons of Crane.

Oh, yeah.


Listen, guys.

Strength! Courage! Fearlessness!

That is what

Crane gave to our people.

For thousands of generations,

generation after generation, -

- his blood has rushed

undiluted through our veins.

This is what we celebrate every year,

before we go on quests.

But first and foremost

is the blood of Crane, that makes us, -

- The barbarians,

the greatest warriors throughout Metalonia.

Okay, Ronal, it's your turn.

Ronal is sick...

Ronal is sick today.


Can't you pass over me?

I have a sore elbow.

Maybe I'm getting

dry skin... or...

- Joint Inflammation.

- Dammit, Ronal.

Put all your strength into it.

I'm looking

forward to this.

Oh, for God's sake, Ronal, man.




You must get

in shape before the quest.

A barbarian who can't

swing an ax, is... uh...

Anyway, not a real barbarian.

What do I need to quest for?

I'll just get in the way.

- Can't I hang out here?

- You are a Son of Crane.

A Son of Crane goes on quests and

kills monsters and returns in glory.

- It is the essence of being a barbarian.

- Uncle, look at me.

What should I do to monsters? Buckle on a

muscle suit and hope they die of laughter?

What then, Ronal?

Have you got any better ideas?

F*cking funny. Have you got

any brain cells?

What? Where? If there is one on my back,

can you press it out?

Listen here, kid. When you go on quests,

it is more about big balls -

not arms. Heroism.

Once you've grasped it, you'll have

no problem crushing the enemy.

I just find it hard to overlook,

that we can die!

Just shut up and train.

What is it?

The alarm. Everyone to arms!

At your posts! Move!

- Get to it!

- Yes, yes!

Barricade the gate!

Come on! Pull!

Up on the barricades, stand ready!




Who's there?

Hail, noble barbarians.

We are Master Florien, -

a bard and our music.

We simply want,

for humble payment, of course, -

- to enrich your banquet

and your spectacular muscles -

- with noble sonatas of your past

heroes and heroines.


- Songs. They sing songs at feasts.

- Feasts?

Check out their incredibly

dangerous tuba on the roof.

Let them in.

- No!

- Damn.

It's a bloody hundred years ago,

since I last split some skulls.

How the hell should I know

it was a tuba?

Yo, girls. How about

you wash my sick, virile, -

resilient, filthy -

awesome lute?

There shall be only practice, nothing frivolous,

young Alibert. The art calls.

We have to be ready.

Isn't there just a little bit of time

to walk around and look?

A true bard

remembers all the songs perfectly.

How perfect does it need to be?

Shouldn't we be on quests?

The barbarians are leaving tomorrow.

We could go with them.

Go with the flow.

I have to meet girls, man.


write some heroic poem.

Or something like that,

You know, with those verses.

Oh, young Alibert.

Only when you learn all the songs, -

can you make that kind of poem.

- What? That'll take a hundred years.

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Submitted on August 05, 2018


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"Ronal Barbaren" STANDS4 LLC, 2019. Web. 13 Oct. 2019. <>.

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