Thorvald Asvaldsson's Story

Hethel Svensson and his band of ulfhednar had once served Ungrulf "Ulfric" Ellrufsson aboard the Örmbátur longship as members of the House of Ellrulf in a time since forgotten. After the extinction of that family line, Hethel Svensson inherited the Nuörmbátur longship and became a jarl under the late great King Sigurd the Ringtaker of the House of Munso along with all the original ulfhednar who had served the previous household. Fudørn, Engöll and Stryder were promoted to jarls. Sigurd Hring sent them forth in the Nuörmbátur to establish a new colony along with Sjonn the Skald and 45 other Vikings whose names are unrecorded. They established a settlement on the Empyrean Sea Beach which flourished and evolved. After the death of King Sigurd and the Iskjerne Vikings, the new colony chose Hethel Svensson to be their new konung or sovereign. King Hethel the Dragontamer ruled peacefully for his entire reign and was praised after he died of old age, being given a large burial mound close to the Empyrean Sea Beach known today as Hethel's Barrow.

King Hethel was succeeded by his son King Ingvar the Highruler, who also had a peaceful reign. King Ingvar was a younger contemporary of an elder Ragnar Lothbrok in the days of old. King Ingvar would expand on his father's kingdom by building upon King Hethel's original establishment. Fudørn Ivansson's successor Ivaldi would become a famous inventor at that time, having purchased a magical purple crystal from Volund the Archer, one of the ljosalfar who had stumbled upon it by pure chance at Iskjerne Forge and sold it to Ivaldi in exchange for silver, along with many other broken remnants of lost technologies that King Sigurd had once confiscated from his Taiyou enemies in the days of old. Ivaldi wasted no time in studying and reverse engineering some of those technologies, using magic and a bit of Nordic alchemy. Using a mineral solution to grow more crystals on the surface of stones, Ivaldi greatly contributed to the accelerated advancements of the Empyrean Sea Beach settlement, helping the House of Hethel to jump several hundred years ahead of Gaia's other Viking settlement at Iskjerne Bay.

King Ingvar was succeeded to the throne by his son King Svein, who continued to expand the House of Hethel and grow his kingdom. King Svein was alive during the fall of the House of Munso under the rule of Ivar the Boneless, but did not get his own kingdom involved. Instead, he used his resources to order the construction of 3 magically advanced longships that could leave the planet and sail through outer space. The first ship was called the Stjorndrekr (star dragon). The second ship was called the Stjornkona (star maiden). The third ship was called the Stjornhestr (star horse). At this stage the Empyrean Sea Beach settlement had grown tremendously and evolved into a small nation, or Type II civilization that was fully capable of harnessing the natural elements in their local star system and utilizing Gaia's native magical defenses, something that the Iskjerne Vikings had tried to accomplish with the Hreggdreki longship many years before them but had failed to do.

During the reign of King Svein, a terrible event happened in the heavens which shook the mountains, leveled forests and left a huge shockwave of destruction throughout the land. By this time, however, the Empyrean Vikings had expanded their kingdom and had established such mighty and powerful defenses that it was able to withstand the storm brought on by the meteor as it passed overhead towards Siv'en and into the Exalted Mountains before crashing in the distance. To those peaceful Norse settlers behind King Svein's walls, it felt like a powerful earthquake. But the kingdom did not break. After the waves stopped rolling in and the earth ceased to tremble, and all the debris and thundering storm clouds had rolled overhead, the walls and towers of the Empyrean Viking settlement were still standing. After some time, life returned to normal and before King Svein died, what little forest that had been destroyed was already starting to regrow.

After the collapse of the Iskjerne Kingdom under the wrathful Titan deity Sigurd the Divine, during the time of Ivar the Boneless, the distant colony on the Empyrean Sea Beach just kept getting stronger and stronger. King Svein was succeeded by his son King Halfdan, the current ruler of that kingdom. King Halfdan was now the sovereign of a dynasty that had lasted four whole generations. Like his father and their fathers before them, Halfdan Svensson was a wise and peaceful king. He had skalds who could recall the legends and sagas of such famous heroes as Harald Wartooth, Ellrulf Trygvirsson, Hethel Svensson, Sigurd Hring, Ragnar Lothbrok, Bjorn Ironside, Harald Fairhair and others whose deeds served as lessons and teachings to the Empyrean sea king.

Halfdan the Great was a follower of Odin and a lover of wisdom who prayed to the gods and made daily offerings to the elves and land spirits. He would continue to provide a sanctuary for all the dragons, dwarves, unicorns, witches, pagans and exiles in his kingdom. In return, he received blessings from the land as the forests grew taller and the gardens grew fuller with an abundance of crops and flowers. Song birds greeted him with their beautiful songs as the grasses flourished above Hethel's Barrow and over the hillsides. There were many pleasant springs and ponds where frogs, fish and turtles nested, where crickets, ladybugs, bees and butterflies fluttered during the summer months, and the Empyrean Kingdom seemed like a quiet remote paradise. Life was good, and the Empyrean Norsemen lived without care, farming and crafting, forging and living in leisure without any needs or concerns.

It was a warm sunny day on the Empyrean Sea Beach, with the almost year-round parhelion of Gaia's three suns casting a magical circular rainbow-colored halo of shining sun-rays over the subtle pastel blue skies over beautiful blue-green waters and foamy white waves as they washed ashore along the long white sandy beach, moving inland from the treacherous Empyrean High Seas before lapping gently across the shoreline. Seagulls, pelicans and other oceanic birds squaked and sang as they flew by or hovered above the beaches as scattered white puffball clouds hung in stillness overhead like cotton flakes in the sky. It was a hot day, but the occasional gentle breeze brought relief from the heat, providing a mild uplifting wind which allowed the gulls, falcons and pelicans to linger in the air as if motionless as they scanned the shallow waters from above.

Many a crab and sea turtle had dug holes in the sand where they built their nests. The sandy shore was also riddled with fish bones, star fish, sand dollars, clams and colorful seashells, and on one of the sandy banks there was even the whole sun bleached skeleton of a whale, dragon or sea serpent which had been washed ashore and picked clean by the crabs and birds. Also along the shoreline was a rune-engraved, stone built dock and boatyard where humans, shipbuilders and fisherman gathered, working together to maintain the harbor and cast their nets or reel them in, hoping to catch a large variety of fish and other treasures which might be lurking in the sea. These were the Empyrean Norsemen, a strong and hardy stock of tall Nordic pagan folk with a variety of hair colors and hair styles, with a great majority of them having bleach blonde hair or ginger red hair with braided mullets and long or bushy beards.

Most of the men and women on the docks were dressed in plain workman's clothes, with simple gowns, highcut v-neck open laced shirts and baggy trousers, either barefoot or wearing sandals with their long sleeves and pantlegs rolled up. Some of them had blueish green tattoos in the shape of Nordic symbols and spiraling vine-work which extended from the length of their necks all the way to their knuckles, and sometimes even on their legs and feet. They were a healthy and muscular stock, well-toned from the exercise they gained from their daily work routines. They seemed peaceful and happy as some of them sang joyful songs while working together to accomplish their goals. Next to that was a small and quiet beach shack, which appeared to be from a different time period. Further inland and higher up on the beach, the sands turned to grass and formed a large naturally formed embankment which plateaued into bright green luscious hills, full of tall grasses and lovely flowers, wild weeds and many other natural landscapes. On the horizon, a forest of evergreens, elm trees, ash trees, oaks and pines stood thick and tall beneath the heavens.

Just before the treeline were two hills. One of them, overgrown with small white flowers was actually a burial mound. This was Hethel's Barrow, the final resting place of a very old Nordic king who had been buried there for over 200 years. The mound next to it, though much larger in size, was actually not a mound at all, but a vast stone ring fortress surrounded by earth which had been piled up to form a perfect circle around an unseen stone wall with entrances perfectly aligned to the four cardinal directions, and the phases of Gaia's moon, which could sometimes be seen even during the day when all three suns hung in the sky. Behind the earth-supported stone circle enclosure was a large moat and bailey, with a keep or watchtower sitting atop a raised scarp where the Norse king's castle could be found, attached to the great mead hall. These too had been made of bricks and stones piled with natural grass rooftops, and the splendor of that Viking kingdom dwarfed even the previous Norse kingdom at Iskjerne Bay.

Just beyond the scarp, down the drawbridge ramp and over the moat was a large shire village hidden within the ring fortress and formed in perfect shapely design. This centuries old Empyrean Norse Kingdom was almost a spitting replica of the Viking settlement at Iskjerne Bay, only its walls were thicker, its buildings were much larger, and its Ringerike styled artwork was much more elaborate. The post carvings weren't just carved by hand, but the entire stone fortress had been inlaid with gold and silver embroidery so that even the chains on the drawbridges were dipped in gold. There were runic carvings everywhere, some appearing like stained glass windows but inlaid with magical glowing blue and pink crystals instead of glass. It was far more advanced and a far more impressive society, one that seemed almost more like Alfheimr or an elf-haven rather than a human kingdom.

There were other differences as well...

Unlike the colony at Iskjerne Bay, there were no mountains close to the village. The closest mountain range was the Exalted Mountains to the southwest, whose peaks barely shown over the forested horizon. So rather than placing their dungeon lookout tower above the mountains, the Empyrean Norse Kingdom had its own lookout tower built closer to the shore, fitted with an enormous golden bell which shined like a beacon to travelers at sea. Also unlike Iskjerne Bay which had a statue of the late great Sigurd Hring placed out in the open near the gates, this newer establishment instead had a sacred hóf or pagan temple located in the very center of the village, surrounded by a protective spiked fence made of pure silver. Only priests and priestesses were allowed entrance to that holy place, which had walls made of spears and a silver rooftop made of shields, decorated by a thin gold chain which hung like tinsel around it. Inside that hóf was not just one statue, but a whole circle of stone carved heavy statues depicting many Old Norse gods and goddesses.

The oldest such statue depicted Odin, the king of the gods...

The main entrance to the ring fortress faced north towards the sea, and just outside of it, the legendary longship known as the Nuörmbátur was resting peacefully atop a pile of round logs which could be employed as a sort of sled or wheels to help slide the vessel down the hillside and into the water. Right next to it stood 3 other ships, also with elaborate prows, only they were much larger and of a later time period than the first longship. These three were not made of wood, but were cast of metal and silver, with prows made of gold. These too were inlaid with magical glowing crystals, only these particular crystals were pinkish purple and seemed to have an entirely different purpose. King Halfdan the Great was sitting upon his cushioned red silk throne inside the mead hall, wearing a silver crown and a bright stainless blue velvet cloak, surrounded by two of his three jarls and one of his skalds along with a hall full of Nordic settlers from various families and backgrounds.

"The stjornhestr is now ready your greatness," Fudørn Auricsson said out loud after taking a swig from his 24 ounce tankard of mead and setting it down on the table.

"Wonderful... Goffre, you shall lead our expedition tomorrow. Is your crew ready to sail?" King Halfdan responded before asking.

"Aye my leige, all five hundred of us are ready to set sail... Women, children. Vary a man between fifteen and fifty," Goffre Alvisson replied with a nod, taking a swig from his own mug.

"Good to hear it Goffre, I knew I could count on you in such short notice... Well, it is settled then. When the second sun passes at mid-day tomorrow, the Stjornhestr will sail... Are you absolutely sure about this my friend?" the wise king asked calmly with a sense of humbleness in his voice.

"Never moreso my king. It has always been my dream to reach for the stars." the jarl answered, to which the king raised his own golden jewel encrested goblet and nodded quietly. Everyone else at the king's table would then raise their own drinks as well, following King Halfdan's example. Without speaking another word, the konung gestured for the feasting to begin, and soon the hall maidens would go around placing silver spoons, knives and bowls on the tables in front of everyone as the chefs walked in, setting a whole large roasted wild boar on a platter down in the center of the king's table along with a giant dish of mixed fish oil veggie and crab salad and a gigantic kettle of hot steaming soup, rich in potassium, iron, protein and several natural vitamins containing potatoes, carrots, cabbage, roasted horse and chicken broth with alfalfa, yellow morning glories, seaweed and onions, enough to feed all 500 of them, along with all the hall maidens and chefs who served.

The following weeks were uneventful for the Empyrean Norse Kingdom as the good King Halfdan the Great made arrangements for Prince Logan Haakonsson and his Alfarian mercenaries to join their ranks. The Norsemen were now 1500+1 strong at the Empyrean Sea Beach settlement, with an additional 500 elvish knights to support them. These Elves were unlike anything the Empyrean Norsemen had ever seen before, with their new pirate-like galleon fitted with 300 cannons designed for naval warfare and seiges from coastal waters. Unlike the Norsemen who were mostly just farmers, fishermen, hunters, gardeners, beekeepers, traders, merchants, craftsmen and blacksmiths with civilian occupations, the Sea Elves, or Dryads, were professional warriors. Swift, strong, and clever, these Sjóálfar were not only good at fighting in the Empyrean High Seas, but were just as skillful on land, in the hills and forests surrounding the Norse countryside, as infantry or mounted warriors.

Each and every one of them had two curved swords, one long and one short, an even smaller curved dagger, a spear, and a quiver with silver bows and magical elfshot arrows. They were equally skilled in fencing, archery, and mounted warfare, and their bright shining magical silver armour was light-weight but extremely durable, resistant to rust, heat or frost, while their coordination and formation tactics were beyond description, for despite their numbers, these Sjóálfar could move in sync with perfect timing like a single unit. This was true for their oarsmen, their archers, their infantry, and even their armored horses who pranced proudly before King Halfdan, each step in complete unison as they trodded and paraded before their Norse companions, showing off with brightly colored peacock feathers and horned visors resembling silver unicorn skulls.

Their cannons too were also magical, relying not on ordinary wicks and gunpowder, but rather on the whims of faery dust, and arcane fire which ignited like blueish white ghost flames, capable of harming both physical beings and spiritual beings alike. Although the Norsemen could see the tiny winged creatures who accompanied the Elves, the good King Halfdan Svensson was not aware yet of their strength in numbers, for the faeries or faefolk, akin to the Dryads and Elves they served, would prove to be an important asset to the Norseman's kingdom. These tiny little faes, just like their elvish cousins, were skilled in a variety of things from tinkering, pollinating, lockpicking, swarming and subtle assassination, to mounted warfare on the backs of dragonflies and rhinoceros beetles. But they too, like the Empyrean Norsemen, were much more concerned with farming and cultivating the surrounding environment, something which the Empyrean Norsemen were extremely fond of, and they would often treat these little ones as no different from their own kinfolk.

All was well in the Empyrean Norse Kingdom, until one fateful day when a lonesome faery came buzzing through the countryside at great haste, whispering something into the ear of one of the elves, who relayed the message to the great prince in his native elvish tongue. Prince Logan Haakonsson, in turn, informed King Halfdan the Great that an army was forming across the high seas, one which threatened the broken establishment at Iskjerne Bay, and which could potentially pose a threat to his own kingdom. King Halfdan Svensson nodded quietly, but made little effort to respond. Both of his jarls, Engrel Korrisson and Fudørn Auricsson volunteered to take their own leidangs across the sea to meet them. Instead, he summoned two of his best Norsemen to go investigate the situation. The first was Rufus the Red, the king's champion. The second was a karl named Thorvald "Bloodyfist" Asvaldsson, a Norwegian outlaw and murderer known throughout the land for killing people with his bare hands.

"But your Grace, this man is a criminal, and an exile. He can not be trusted," the jarl Engrel Korrisson explained. But the konung simply waved the matter aside with a flick of the wrist.

"He has done no wrong in my kingdom, and therefore he is not a criminal. Besides, I have not heard any word back from Jarl Goffre, and I will not sacrifice another one of my most trusted councilmen. I need you both here my friends, you understand." Jarl Engrel and Jarl Fudørn both nodded at King Halfdan's plight.

"As for you, Prince Logan, the king thanks you for your council. You are no doubt a loyal advisor to your majesty. I wish you were my own son, to be honest, and without children of my own, I hereby declare you the king's heir. Should something happen to me, or my jarls here, then you must ensure that our lineage continues. Do you understand me boy?" King Halfdan explained before asking.

"Yes, your Greatness, I understand" Prince Logan nodded. "Good," King Halfdan said before ordaining Prince Logan before the court. Prince Logan would take a knee before the king's throne and kiss his ring finger. The king's ring itself had been passed down for several generations, from King Halfdan's father's father's fathers, a ring that had once belonged to King Sigurd the Ringtaker himself, who had gifted it to the forefather of the Empyrean Norse Kingdom over 200 years ago. That same exact ring had once belonged to King Trygvir, a loyal vassal of Sigurd Hring's uncle Harald Wartooth during the Battle of the Brávellir many many years ago, from which King Halfdan and Prince Logan were both directly descended. The irony of this occasion seemed almost fated from the beginning, as King Halfdan removed the twin-headed serpent armband from Logan's upper arm, and placed on him the twin-raven armband of the Empyrean Norse Kingdom signifying that he was now one of them.

One fateful day while combing the beach for Murex rock snails, a predatory sea snail which produces a purple inky substance known as imperial dye or royal purple, Snorri Jonasson the skald stumbled upon something interesting buried beneath the sands. As he hit the object with his walking stick, he heard a tinkering sound. There was something hard and metal hidden in the sand. He bent down and dug up what appeared to be a metal helmet. It was a warrior's helmet of some kind, of an almost Roman-like design, embroidered with thin linings of silver and gold. The front of the helmet featured the symbol of a bull in full body with horns and a tail. Despite a small dent on the side of the helmet, it appeared to be in remarkably pristine condition.

But there was more...

Nearby, he also found some curious looking metal pellets or small round lead balls which had also been scattered along the beach. But these were not fishing sinkers, for they had no holes or grooves in them for which to hook a line. Snorri Jonasson picked up a small handful of them, placing them into his hanging satchel along with the helmet he had found. But he was not prepared for what he would find next, for there in the sand, sticking out on the shore like an ancient lost relic, was a polymer advanced alloy pistol, the likes of which Snorri the Skald had never seen before. He would reach down and pull it out of the ground, brushing the sand off of it to examine it more closely. There was an inscription on the side of it which said M5, and Snorri knew right away that he had discovered a treasure that was simply not of the beach, or of Gaia, but had to have come from out of this world, from a people who had visited from the stars.

Snorri Jonasson suddenly forgot all about his snail combing expedition. He placed the gun in his pocket and quickly left the beach, going back to the ring fortress to inform King Halfdan of his discoveries. As he opened his satchel and placed the items on the table in the king's hall in front of him, King Halfdan and Prince Logan admired the shining helmet with fascination. It had not rusted over the last 250 years or so, but was still glimmering as if the gods themselves had crafted it. At first, King Halfdan even mistook it for one of the Sea Elf's own helmets, but after consulting the Sjóálfar, the young Prince Logan assured his adopted godfather King Halfdan that this was not one of their makings. It must have belonged to someone else who lived a long time ago.

"And you say you just found these items laying on the beach? All this time, in plain sight?" Fudørn Auricsson asked doubtedly.

"Ay my Lord, they were in the sand. Buried," the skald answered his jarl, who was sitting at the left hand of the king next to Rufus and Thorvald, opposite the prince.

"And what of these little balls here? What do you make of them? If they are not sinkers, then what are they?" inquired Rufus, the king's champion, as he fumbled with one of the tiny metal pellets before dropping it back on the table.

"I'm not sure..." the king answered. Everyone else fell silent for a moment, looking around the table at one another. Snorri then nodded quietly.

"There is something else," Snorri Jonasson said as he pulled the M5 pistol out of his pocket and slid it across the table. King Halfdan would glance at Snorri for a moment before picking up the small handgun and examining it.

"It has a trigger, like our crossbows, and a barrel... I think, whatever that is, it fired these" Snorri suggested, causing the others to nod quietly in deep contemplation. King Halfdan passed the M5 pistol around before picking up the helmet and examining it again. He studied the bull insignia more carefully, making a mental note of it in his mind. "Remarkable..." Halfdan whispered.

King Halfdan ordered the items to be set on display, high up on one of the shelves within the king's hall so that he could always gaze at them and wonder. He was about to send Thorvald Asvaldsson and Rufus the Bald on their quest to Iskjerne Bay, when just then, the doors swung open and two of the king's guards entered, holding a young man with a knapsack over his head by his arms who was fighting and struggling to get free. They were accompanied by the tavern keeper.

"Your Grace, sorry to disturb you, but we have a problem," one of the guards informed him. The king nodded to the guards, who nodded to the tavern keeper as he stepped forward.

"Your Grace, this young man here just killed one of my best customers during a game of hnefltafl and refused to pay for his drinks," the tavern keeper pleaded.

"He lies! I was cheated!" the young man yelled from under the bag over his head. "Silence you thief," one of the guards said while hitting the young man hard in the stomach with the butt end of his club. The masked criminal slumped over silently in pain, having the wind temporarily knocked out of him. King Halfdan rolled his eyes and looked over at the tavern keeper.

"How much does he owe you for the drinks?" King Halfdan asked calmly. "Sixty fennings your Grace," the tavern keeper answered humbly, removing his hat. The king nodded and with a snap of his fingers, Fudørn Auricsson would bring him a money chest. "I will double it for your troubles. One hundred and twenty fennings, and not a penda more," the king said as he counted out 120 pennies and placed them in a bag, tossing it to the tavern keeper, who caught it in his hat.

"Thank you so much your Grace, you truly are a great King," the tavern keeper said, bowing his head before turning and leaving. Everyone else's focus was now on the masked murderer before them as King Halfdan handed the treasure chest back to his jarl, scratching his chin.

"As for you boy, murder is a crime in my kingdom. Punishable by death. I could have you beheaded, and your lifeless body hanged on my display," King Halfdan said, ordering his guards to bring the criminal forward so that he could have a better look at the accused, and decide what to do with him.

"Do you understand the accusations against you?" King Halfdan piped up rhetorically with a bit of sternness and anger in his voice. "Do you deny that you killed one of your fellowmen?" he immediately followed through.

"... I do... And I don't..." the young man answered.

"Good, you will save me a trial then," the king said as he poured himself a glass of mead. "Guards, if you would do me the honor of please removing his mask so I can see his face... What is your name young man?" King Halfdan asked calmly.

The guards would remove the knapsack from over the young man's head, revealing a Norseman with long bright red hair and hazel green eyes. Everyone else in the king's hall would pause to gaze at the murderer before them. Thorvald Asvaldsson's eyes lit up with terror at what he was now witnessing, as Rufus the Bald turned to look at him, then back at the young man before him with a gaping jaw. The young man would shake the hair out of his face before gazing up at the king with remorseless hatred in his expression as he made eye contact.

"I am Erik, son of Thorvald Asvaldsson," he answered.

King Halfdan blinked, glancing beside himself to Thorvald before looking forward again at the admitted murderer directly before him. Thorvald Asvaldsson had widened eyes and a look of horror on his face. King Halfdan the Great was nearly speechless himself as he stared into Erik's eyes, before chuckling at the irony of it all while taking a swig from his glass of mead.

The burial mound beneath Queen Aslaug would tremble and move, like a pregnant mother with groaning pains as suddenly, the dirt and grass began to shift. Soon, fingers emerged from beneath the soil. But these were not skeletal fingers, nor the blueish pale rotten appendages of a Draugr, rather they were of pinkish lively hue and covered with living flesh and nails.

Moments later, a whole arm would emerge from beneath the dark black rich fertile soil, and soon an entire man would dig his way out from the earth, his head and torso emerging to reveal a living human being, as if Gaia herself had just given birth.

The man would immediately gasp for air as he coughed up a mouth full of dirt, inhaling and exhaling as if it was his first time breathing fresh air. Soon he pulled his whole body out from beneath the fertile mound and rolled over on to his back, breathing heavily, exhausted and without any energy. He was a Norseman with dirty hair and mud stained clothes. His face, his shirt, his entire body was covered with brown mud and black dirt. He wore shaggy trousers, completely devoid of any shoes or armour. His feet and nails were dirty, and to everyone else nearby who could witness this spectacle, he looked like one of the goblins or uruk-hai who had been fashioned from earth.

But this was no orc or goblin, as soon they would see, for as he opened his eyelids to stare up at the skies, his eyes were bright blue and full of life. The man who had just crawled out from underground was a human, and not just any human. It was the long lost son of Sigurd Hring, who had been presumed dead for a very long time. The now very weak, very vulnerable man who was sprawled out on the ground in Iskjerne Bay was none other than Ragnar Lothbrok, the Ghost of England, a legendary Viking from whom many a Norseman, both in Iskjerne Bay and surrounding counties were all descended and had written many poems about.

It was as if Sigurd the Ringtaker himself had returned. But this was not King Sigurd, nor was he a god with divine powers. This was a man of flesh and blood, a mortal being in dire need of food, drink, and medical conditioning.

As the beaten, dirty and fatigued Ragnar "Lothbrok" Sigurdsson lay helpless on the dirt mound, lacking all wits, senses and energy, two Norsemen would walk up and grab him by his arms, dragging him down the grassy slope and over towards a mule wagon, where they lifted him up and tossed him into the back of it on a pile of matted hay. Thorvald Asvaldsson and his branded son, Erik the Red, glanced at each other quietly for a moment before climbing back into the wagon and driving away, heading towards the battered village and beyond it to the gated entrance of the Iskjerne Ring Fort, where they were hoping to find some food and rest, and maybe a little help for the stranger they had just picked up.

Thorvald Asvaldsson was but a poor old farmer and exile who had been sent on an errand from King Halfdan Svensson the Great, the sovereign of the distant Empyrean Norse Kingdom over the Weargtooth Mountains to the south, acting as an ambassador from the Empyrean High Seas, charged with gathering information for his king. The tropical Empyrean Sea Beach settlement was remarkably similar to the Norse colony at Iskjerne Bay, only much more advanced. Iskjerne Bay was also much colder, located on the main continent of Ellaria along the northernmost coastal mountain range, whereas Thorvald "Bloodyfist" Asvaldsson had come from a large warmer island in the sea. The journey to Iskjerne Bay was long and treacherous, about three and a half weeks long according to his calendar, having taken the much longer but safer route by land around the sandy, rocky coastline of Ellaria rather than daring the sea, or going up the central mainland over the mountains as most others would.

King Halfdan had provided the karvi, a small boat to get Thorvald Bloodyfist across the water, but he was required to bring a slow-moving mule cart and continue his own journey from there. It had also been a twofold mission for Asvaldsson, for he had also brought his son Erik with him. Erik the Red, following in his father's footsteps, was also an exile and convicted murderer. Only unlike his father Thorvald who had found sanctuary at the Empyrean Norse Kingdom and was allowed, as well as expected to return with news of the condition of the northern settlement, Erik the Red had been banished from the Empyrean Sea Beach and was forbidden to return to the southern settlement for three years, lest he face the harsher punishment of death at the hands of the Empyrean king.

Erik Thorvaldsson would just have to settle at Iskjerne Bay instead, the only other place in Ellaria that was still home to the Norsemen and their kinfolk. But he would soon realize that Iskjerne Bay was not nearly as comfortable or as easygoing as the Empyrean Sea Beach, for as their wagon came around the bend and over the hills looking out at the village, Erik would glance up at his father before looking ahead, to a ravaged and war-torn settlement with archaic-styled medieval structures and open sheep pens, to frost covered rooftops and icey walls that had spiking ice sickles growing off of them. Apart from the nobles, of which there were very few if any, most of the local villagers and Norse settlers appeared to be malnourished, cold, hungry and impoverished. A curse or plague had struck their land, and many of the farmers and villagers were left to fend for themselves.

Thorvald Bloodyfist would snap the reigns lightly, causing his mule cart to speed up as the wagon went around the serpentine dirt road through the open village, passing the gated entrance to the ring fortress. Erik gazed up at the two large statues that flanked the entrance to the outer wall, his eyes rather enlarged with both nervousness and awe. His father also glanced over at the statues, taking note of one of them which seemed to be standing tall and proud, made of solid stone, while the other statue was split in half vertically, made of hard wood which had partially fallen over with its face in the moat and had been left there to rot. Just as they were coming through the main gate, Thorvald and Erik noticed another smaller group of people who did not look like typical Norsemen exiting Iskjerne Bay at the same time as they were arriving, led by a single woman.

Thorvald Asvaldsson was surprised to see something quite familiar about Livia the Legata and her Praetorian guards as they marched passed them out of the second gates, heading in the opposite direction. He immediately recognized the insignia of the bull, and the style of their helmets, as well as the unique weapons they were carrying with them. They had been eirily similar to the helmet and firearm that Thorvald Bloodyfist had seen back at the other kingdom. Were these Praetorians some kind of elite Viking mercenaries hired to guard the Iskjerne Kingdom? Just then, something else caught Thorvald's attention as his son smacked his arm and pointed up in the air before him to the giant castle on the other side of the third stone wall, heading up the drawbridge to the raised mound at the center of the large ring fortress. It wasn't very elaborate or fancy, more like a thick stone cube, but still it was marvelous enough to merit Thorvald's attention.

Next they were greeted by a rabble of filthy guards with the likeness of berserkers. Thorvald and Erik had seen these types of men before, but never so many of them concentrated in one place. Berserker cults had long been outlawed in their Norwegian homeland, but here at Iskjerne Bay it seemed that the berserkers were still in active service to their Viking lords. But they did not say much, neither smiling nor even paying Thorvald and his son much attention as they passed through the final spiked gate and ascended towards the castle. Little did either of them know what all had happened in Iskjerne Bay over the past few years or so, nor were they even aware of the significant time change, or the injured passenger they were carrying with them in the back of their mule wagon who was also looking around.