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Grendel.
Poppy.
- Poppy.
Let this great hall tell the world
no man stands above the Danes.
All we look upon is ours.
Hrothgar, much-loved king of the Danes,
Under Odin's eye
l plot you lucky on all paths that leave this hall.
May all those who cross these steps
- find a happy heart.
Olaf?
Olaf? Thal?
Where were you when all this happened?
Asleep.
l'd had some beers.
What fucking thing was that?
Good day.
l'd owe much to know my whereabouts.
Fish Beach.
Likely l'm the only one who named it that.
lt's where we get fish.
- l'm Beowulf. - Beowulf?
Great Beowulf the what?
You've not had another wash-up like myself
by the name of Breca?
We were out hunting walrus
a couple of days ago.
This storm came up and ate our boat.
Sorry, this is just you coming in now?
Yeah.
Have you ever swum in the open sea?
l leave that to my boats.
Am l right to think you mock me?
Can't see much life in that.
Do you do this a lot?
- l take what comes. - Good.
Then you have no qualms if supper tastes like you.
Eat...
a bit of yourself.
So what's it like being a hero,
quelling things with axes
and that sword of yours?
ln what? On account of bloody madness?
ln truth, l don't get all that mad.
So a hero, eh?
A hero for supper.
Don't my shit shine?
l'm in your debt.
l'm in the fish's.
One of these days they'll come for theirs.
The winds were kind.
No storm waylaid Sword-Wolf on his hard walk home.
None in Geatland held so strong the love of kin as Beowulf.
But coming home, he heard the tale--
friends to the west slept with slaughter.
A troll drummed death upon the Danes.
Great Beowulf alone had bested bears
thought fearless in their mood for men.
But now he brought
a half score more Geat swords
to swing against this thing.
- Let's hear the names. Aye.
- Breca the Loud...
...ripe from sea deeds,
lost no sun in hoisting sword...
Hoisting swords? He couldn't hoist his own sail.
- ...while Hondscioh,
Queller of Puffins
and Beer,
shook his shield to shake the world.
No, just on that scum troll's head.
Beowulf.
Well as we've done these last few years...
this sail holds grim bliss for me.
A thing that takes 200 in arms...
ls no small thing.
But l will see Valhalla
or that thing's head on a pole...
...so that Danes might say,
''Geats don't wield words
where swords speak truer.''
Great as our own shield king is,
there's another near as kin to me.
None bleed for a better king than Hrothgar.
l'd die happy loved as he.
But we live happy even now.
So...
Beowulf goes at dawn to the Danes.
All you who go along,
keep us proud!
lf you can, find Hondscioh a wife.
- Our sheep have had enough.
Troll!
l call you out!
Troll!
Meet me if you dare
and fight me now!
Do you hear me, creep?
Creep, creep.
The thing wouldn't fight.
lt spared me to witness this.
Then get up off your ass with your thanes in sight.
- This is no ground for a king. - Oh, you're wrong.
For a king who has had his balls hauled up his guts, it is the ground...
where all the broken-bone wretches are flung to death.
And Valhalla.
l don't know.
ls that the look of a man going happily up to the feast
or down to the worms?
You talk like a madman.
No, just like the Danish king of daylight!
Get up now. Or do we bury you here?
Oh, is that your wish?
''With your thanes in sight''?
Whose wife would you have me be?
That's one shiny sword.
l'm told you're the Danes' king.
Canute wishes you well.
Celt, you're a ways from home.
l am, but safe with the sword of Christ.
Father Brendan.
Christ, eh?
Heard of him.
He ever have much luck with trolls?
l am of the thought they never crossed paths.
But if you're willing to bow before Christ,
you shall feel the blessing of his great strength.
My gods don't ask me to bow.
And nor should they dare if they won't protect you.
To face God's foes is an honor.
l've come to drive this evil out.
With your stick?
With the fire of Heaven!
Well, if your heaven's on fire you'd better look to that.
You leave me on a dish for the troll then.
Leave me. And if l don't see man's dawn,
and l shall see God's! l shall see God--
Selma, should l fear for my husband?
lf you've got nothing better to do.
Sweet, don't play the bitch with me.
l don't ask much and l don't ask often.
No one dares dirty your name around me.
Nor yours around me.
Hrothgar dies happy...
in his sleep.
That's a lift.
Selma,
l could find a place for you inside.
We chose our beds a long time back.
Back!
Spread out, men.
As you wish.
ls this land Dane?
lt is! And you're not!
Unless you're ripe for a shower of arrows,
you tell who you are!
Two blows from this,
and 50 men will be on this beach
before your next breath!
50 birds maybe.
ls that then your word?
l'm Beowulf.
Beowulf the Geat?
Aw, here we go.
We come as friends to Hrothgar.
Well, we welcome friends.
Bring what you need.
l'll have men look to your ship.
Welcome to Daneland.
By Thor, they have the spark of cows.
Who's that?
Selma. A witch.
The happy would keep a boat-length from her.
- Happiness isn't everything. - She sees people's deaths.
That is one beer hall.
lf you like to drink with the ghosts.
Oh, my little Beowulf!
Nobody tells me anything!
Ha!
l somehow think of you as smaller.
l was eight when l left.
How you've grown.
l'm sorry. We didn't mean to wake you.
Wake me?
l'm a grief-crippled king, half drunk in the middle of the afternoon.
What's there to wake?
By the gods, it's good to see you.
Eh? Eh?
Do you think you need a beer?
- Oh yeah. - Yeah.
lf Geats were seeking a wife,
this room would hold better hope than most.
- So many. - Widows.
Widows far too early.
- Fine.
Ho! Ho!
Uh...
With my king l welcome you all.
We can never forget this gift.
From this night on, the only walking flesh
this troll feasts on will be its own.
With the morning your curse
will be less than a shadow.
Well, maybe not less,
but l mean to hold in my hand
the head that by my sword
no more steers a dead troll body!
We hoist a shield now,
drive that hunger
back down its mouth!
Oh, it can chew on its tongue.
lt can chew on its own stinking stone of a heart.
- But no more deaths!
- No more! - No!
We mean to put an end to this fiend.
Yes! - That's what others vowed!
Unferth!
By your will, dear queen,
we're wiser in knowing the hearts of those who tangled with the thing.
Those are dead.
l don't brag of wrestling with it.
Nor of being able to kill it.
The troll broke down these doors
with 20 Danish warriors sleeping inside.
What gives 1 3 Geats better hope?
- We won't be sleeping.
Sit...
or find your guts in a dish.
Now, before the night must sharpen us,
play, drink.
No.
Since it began, we've had Swedes, Saxons, even Slavs
coming to see how weak we were.
Yeah, l know.
l look like walrus shit.
Comes of fighting things you can't.
- All bad dreams end. - Hmm.
We'll see you in the morning for herring and egg.
You know, if there's anything you need to tell me about it,
now would be the time.
l'll stay here
amongst you.
We'll bring you the head.
We'll throw it in with the herring and egg.
Priest...
where did you spend the night?
Why was such a daft wretch spared?
That's not what he asked.
Wise king, you must know the name of Clovis.
- The Frank? - The Frank.
Yes yes. The Frank,
The Christian sword of a land 1 0 times what the Danes hold dear.
- He's dead. - Yes, 1 0 years now,
but not before he saw God's grace.
The Visigoths of Aquitaine,
The Romans under Syagrius,
Burgundians, Allemandes-- all fell before him.
And all because he had God's ear.
As l recall he also had 1 000 swords,
neighbors soft on wine and pork
and no ice on his rivers.
- And no fucking trolls. - And no fucking trolls!
My skinny hand can only bless,
but trust me,
this thing shall meet its end in striking me...
or those of mine.
Madness has its wonders.
The Celt sat straight in the path of the thing
and was not touched.
The Celt held no sword.
Perhaps the thing hates weapons.
Well, your men were armed.
True. Others here in arms have been spared.
l've been waiting for Odin to bring me my pith.
He hasn't.
ln his wisdom.
This is where the blood trails led.
l tell you, this troll must be one tough prick--
do this climb every night after supper.
Why don't you blow your horn now?
l wouldn't mind those 50 bows you bragged of.
l could bring the bows, but the men are gone.
- Thorfinn!
- Are you all right? - l'm fine.
Good.
What is that?
A little high up for driftwood.
What are we fighting here?
A thing beyond our ken.
We could spread out, meet back here in a year.
We're out of our world.
Go in peace.
- Thank you. - Go with Christ!
Next!
l was off in a dream.
l wish l could bring you a better one.
Baptism they call it.
Unferth feels that he has fallen from the grace of the gods.
lt's not every man's wish to sit in blood.
lf this Christ can stiffen Unferth's heart,
what's the harm?
They swim only out of fear.
But still...
they swim.
Praise the lord! Hallelujah! Hallelujah!
Dusk soon, eh?
Are you a herd dog?
l've been called worse.
l'm Beowulf.
Yes, the much-told hero from Geatland.
So who are your people?
None.
l came here in my teens,
a whore to Unferth's uncle, Alfus Three Legs.
So you're not then Dane?
Oh, l am.
My family was killed by Wolfing raiders.
Oh, my father too.
Well, not killed,
but a feud with the Wolfings brought us here.
l guess you weren't made a whore.
l'm told you know of things to come...
That's a wide sea.
...of the deaths of things.
Seeing that everything living dies,
you still give me the sight of gods.
Speak clean.
You wonder of yourself.
More of the troll.
Not of yourself?
ln some things l'd rather be blind.
You're worse than Loki with your sheepshit whining.
The death of the troll will cost dearly both the Geats and the Danes,
as it bloody well should.
Why is it, ''should''?
The Danes have done their doom on him.
- And you come here to kill.
The day is going down.
lf you want to be ready...
careful with what you don't understand.
Has this thing, this troll,
killed any children?
- No. - Women?
Old men?
What are you saying?
That he fights with a clean heart?
He kills the strongest first.
He shows us he can kill the strongest.
Who cares if he spares the children?
They'll die anyway without their fathers.
My wits do war with how this all began.
Hate for the mead-hall, l can only guess.
The night we finished it the foul creep came.
We hadn't seen a troll in 1 5-20 years.
So nothing was done to the troll itself.
Oh, Beowulf, it's a fucking troll!
Maybe someone looked at it the wrong way.
Some Dane?
Who hands you this? Selma?
Come on, she's been out in the wilds too long.
Her head is full of spiders, her lap is full of moss.
You said she sees things.
Well, the crazy do see things!
l never begged anyone to come here,
take on our fight.
- l don't know why you're here. - l know you don't.
Then don't sadden my heart with talk
about why a fucking troll does what a fucking troll does!
Block the sides!
Come on, crab-slime.
Show me those teeth!
All the night the warriors waited,
Sword and shield in ring-wrapped grasp.
Then the fiend of bog and brine
Reached those doors of 1 0 men's weight.
Made it creak by breath alone.
Then smelt God amongst the men.
Hardly had they hoisted steel
When this thing's rank guts gave out.
Great Beowulf, God's awful arm--
Enough!
Go on. Go off, kids.
Go on, go off!
You scared them doing that.
Aw, fuck, Thorkel, they've only had months awakening
to the scattered parts of kin. Don't feed them lies.
That was piss the other night.
Piss on us.
lf any gods were there, they were sleeping.
The Celt says that Jesus Christ never sleeps,
that he walks amongst us.
Oh, that's all we need--
a god gone mad from lack of sleep.
Enough.
He's already fighting like a Dane.
You want to waste your strokes on me and the air?
Go ahead.
Hondscioh had a bad dream.
And yours were good?
Here, with the smoke of the dead?
Don't see fear helping us.
We shouldn't draw back.
Fear has its place.
l wondered if you'd throw the bones.
l need the right path.
There is the one that leads back to Geatland.
lf the bones say so.
What if l lie?
Then the gods will bring me back.
So no thoughts at all for my cunt?
- Warrior-monk, huh?
- There's not many of those.
Troll!
Leave here, or stay and meet your doom !
Doom ! Doom doom !
Doom doom ! Doom doom !
- ls that talk? - lt isn't barking.
- What? - You're not Dane.
That's why you still breathe.
l'm blood-born to Hrothgar!
Selma: He says that's your burden.
My burden is your stinking life!
- Ow!
Come down here!
l swear l'll hammer these stones
right up your hairy ass!
Why won't he fight me?
Why should he?
You've done nothing to him.
What was he doing in your hut?
l forgot.
You're the great Geat, welcome to women wherever you go,
swimmer of oceans, able to kill
five Swedes with one stroke of his great blade.
We came to help the Danes find peace.
l'm Dane.
l'm at peace.
Not that l always was.
When Alfus Three Legs died in my bed some claimed that l killed him,
so they drove me to the wild.
Then they'd only come around to maybe spill some seed.
Not since Grendel.
Grendel?
Your troll.
Weirdly enough he has a name.
lt means ''grinder.''
Of bones?
No, of teeth.
He was born with bad dreams.
Nothing l say will help you kill him.
- As long as the king wins the day. - Always, my lord.
Another bloodless dawn...
for you at any rate.
l'm pissing it.
Blood?
lt's come and gone over the last few months.
l'm turning into a woman
or a dying man.
l spoke with him last night--
Grendel.
You talked?
lf you can believe what Selma says.
He was above me in the rocks,
but he spoke words.
He only wants Danes.
He blames you for something.
- Oh, he blames me? - Mm-hmm.
He blames me!
Of all the shit, he blames me!
There's coast north of here no Dane ever dares to go.
How much land does one mouth need?
What does he think he is? Some fucking troll Caesar
with rights to everything he looks upon?
Beowulf,
the word on the wave says
l die happy.
No gods l've ever known has offered me that.
They promised me beer, fish here and there
and friends to boot.
lt's hard to hold you spoke to that thing.
From well beyond my sword.
Something has you turning.
l fear he just waits for us to go.
Same thought gnaws on me.
Now, Celt, bless me and be done!
Go in peace, my lord!
Go in peace!
Wise king, go in peace!
That's it, my lord!
Praise the lord,
Wise king!
Go in the sight of Christ, wise king.
Ho! Ho!
Ho!
Grimur's got a troll heart! He brought the troll here!
l'm a Dane and a Christian!
And your mother screwed trolls!
You little prick, you!
The troll killed my brothers!
But this wretch didn't.
But we'll get the one who did.
Now on you go. All of you, go on!
l can lead you
to the Dane killer's cave.
Why didn't you before?
l-l feared its wrath,
my death.
No more.
Over there!
Listen!
Great. So who jumps first?
lt's-- it's a short climb down.
Our scabby friend's right.
l can see the hole.
Give us a hand.
l-l swear by Christ!
Let's leave Christ out of this.
We need a rope.
l'll rope you.
Thorfinn: That might not be a bad idea.
Here, troll, have some of this!
So they came to the cave of the killer,
Wrecked by rush
And slime of slope,
Hondscioh fair fell to Valhalla.
- Let's let this sad tale sleep.
Hondscioh shows up,
great Odin asks how he died.
He says, ''l fell.''
Breca! Breca!
Even the trolls love my wonderful hair.
Oh, l think he wanted you for more than that.
Great Breca, the troll-house pisser.
l'd be more careful where l would wave my spear!
l'd piss in his mouth if he dared to show it.
Best be ready to do more than that.
lt's the cripple.
Eh, Beowulf.
Look,
Your friend Grendel doesn't come from mist and shit alone.
l curse you and all your kin.
He wasn't in his cave.
- How does he die?
Lest your teeth can catch an ax...
l led my men into this not knowing.
lf l'd known, l would have come alone.
Now l see doom hanging over some of them,
doom l brought.
You found the cave?
That's where l see him dying.
Would you wait in your cave for killers
that knew the path to your door?
Take me to Grendel!
What, you think l can sniff him down?
Maybe not. Maybe he can sniff you.
- Which way up from here? - Straight, but you'd need claws.
Then again, heroes...
You hit me-- l'll be the one.
What ''the one''?
l can't stop his death from coming,
nor can l hurry it.
He needs to know
l know he was wronged.
But if he doesn't leave here,
- l can't stop-- - You're warning him?
Careful which side you end up on.
You're a long way from the village.
You're a longer way from home.
- Wake up, men,
or never again!
By Christ, demon, you shall die!
Poppy.
Now you truly know our loss.
You only told us half the tale.
The other half will dull your sword.
That troll didn't give a shit about us,
not till we wronged him.
He killed one.
He could have killed more.
He killed the one he held in blame.
Were it so easy, l'd have been the one.
l killed his father.
Even that might have been an end
had it only been the father there.
None of the others saw the child,
but l could have quelled it there and then.
Weakness stopped my sword.
- Or kindness. - Then it's the hardest kindness l know!
All the gods are running away from me now
as though l were the death itself.
What had the father done to you?
Why did you kill him?
lt crossed our path...
took a fish.
- Without an arm-- - Unless it grows back.
He's a troll.
Tell me, Thorfinn,
what is a troll?
They say there are lizards
that can grow back limbs.
They say there are worms that can grow back heads.
This thing's no more worm than you or l.
Hey! Hey!
- Yea!
Yea!
You know, l put my thing in other men's wives,
- other man's daughters. - All can be forgiven.
l slept with a witch.
You slept with a witch?
That's gotta be bad.
l put my thing in her. lt was a while back.
As long as you vow to change your ways.
You know l'll try, right?
Yeah! Yeah!
Where's the arm ring? l wanted the arm ring.
- lt didn't have an arm ring. - lt did.
Listen, the creep nearly snapped my neck.
lf l could at least get the arm ring...
- Come here!
- To the end of gloom! - To the end of gloom!
To the end of gloom.
l don't think l'm the worst king.
Not at all.
When l think of the others--
Martin Long Sword has got a long sword but no brains.
Half his kin ran off to Angle-land.
Six Tooth Pete is a sloth,
can't keep his warriors from fighting each other.
And then there's Sigge...
- Oh, Sigge. - Sigge Skull Splitter, the half-a-bard.
Haven't you heard of Sigge?
l don't know. Something... with sheep?
Sheep? Good god, man!
Sheep are just the tip of it!
They said he tried it once with a dead walrus.
He's tried horses, he's tried goats.
They say he once tried it with a rabbit and got stuck!
- Stuck?
l tell you, when he comes to a fight he comes with six legs!
- You wanna see fast?
lf he ever comes here,
l'll just send out a batch of squirrels.
That'll stop him !
lt's over now. lt's over.
The troll's dead.
Come lie down, dear. Let's lie down a bit.
There will be many more nights now to drink.
Was this more or less how you saw it,
with the troll?
l saw you more bloodied.
Luck stayed on my side.
Luck can be a whore too.
Aren't you missing the meal?
l guess l miss my friend more.
Hondscioh.
And one Geat's life worth what?
Hmm?
Two Danes? Three Swedes?
1 0 trolls?
Hondscioh's life had worth to you since you knew him.
Others know others.
You mourn the troll.
l knew him.
One night Grendel found my hut.
He never took me again.
So why did he keep coming back?
To keep the Danes away--
the ones who would fuck me and then cut my throat.
Where did that have its birth?
You're thinking you can tie me up and drag me like a dog.
Don't forget...
l know how you die.
Been a while?
With men.
He slept with the witch.
Who sleeps with a witch?
l'm telling you, Christ, you talk to Celts-- you'd work for days.
lt's one hand on their sword, the other on their dick.
And which hand they'll use to cross themselves
l almost fear to ask.
Die!
Learn from your child, hag!
Aeschere! Aeschere!
lt's Aeschere.
Aeschere, we will right this wrong.
God will burn this devil-witch fiend!
Nothing lives here.
The cave doesn't end here.
There's outflow from the other side.
l'll go.
You can't swim for shit.
Your father?
Then be proud.
Valkyries will have their hands full with that old goat.
l'm sorry to have brought you to all of this.
- We brought ourselves.
At least it's over.
The Celtic priest said
l'd be forgiven.
l just need to hook the right god.
Do you ever worry about that?
Heaven?
l'm thinking l'll likely go where l'm sent.
You know they'll kill your son if they find him.
You couldn't.
l'm not them.
No.
You just killed his father.
Hrothgar taught you nothing then.
Sleep, Grendel.
Born of scum and swampy things,
Lurking in his mother's moss;
The mark of Cain
Came to his brow;
Of evil and of sea hag born.
Grendel, grinder of lost men's bones
Felt hate towards the happy Danes.
Cain? What's that?
A man who killed his brother in a Christian tale.
What's Cain got to do with Grendel?
Grendel kill his own brother too?
No. l think Thorkel's saying
that Grendel's like Cain--
- a killer. - We all are.
- Yeah, well... - Thorkel's tale is shit.
By Odin's will...
Together: ...let us find our way home!
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