New.odt

October 4999, OTT



Erik Gustav had arrived once more on the planet of his birth. This time he had not taken the Space bus bus, but arrived with his own luxury yacht, the Silver Falcon.

A terrible snow storm obscured everything behind a whirling flurry of white. The two massive snow removers fought a loosing battle.

The Clarion 7 his seventy meter yacht had just landed and already wore a thick cover of snow and so did the Volvo Flyer that waited not far from the landing ramp.

He girded Mjördaren and then stomped through the snow and the bitter cold wind. A figure thickly wrapped in furs stood by the Flyer and greeted him with a muffled voice. “Hail Lord of the Ragnarsson Clan and welcome home.”

Erik Gustav knew of course who the man was and recognized the muffled voice. “Hail Orkning it is good to be home indeed.”

Erik Gustav climbed into the Skimmer and so did his trusted warrior. Reinhold another one of his trusted retainers sat behind the controls. He greeted the as usually very silent man and realized how fast he had gotten used to the always mild weather of Pluribus, as he was glad to be inside the flyer. He settled into the leathers and then he noticed the Flyer bar had been forcefully opened. “Orkning what has caused this damage?” “The brutish Isegrim, thinking he owns all that is Ragnarsson my Liege. He used and commands and yet not even the Elders have confirmed him as the new chief of the Olafsons.” Erik Gustav sighed. “Volund was a honest and true Viking and I saw so much promises in this Union, but not much happens between the walls of my old burg that does not reach my ears. While I am bound by oaths and while he becoming Clan Chief is a foregone conclusion, I have and will take steps that make his rule over Ragnarsson treasures limited and short. Now tell me how is my daughter?” “She is as pregnant as a bloater fish, my liege, still as radiant as the Short Summer Sun itself. The midwife thinks it is any time now.”

He leaned forward. “Reinhold make haste.” He then pulled back the cuff of his gauntlet style gloves and revealed a GalNet enabled PDD and said. “System connect me with my friend Aaron Silverzweig.”

To Okrning he said. “This is a good friend of mine, A lawyer and law professor. He specializes in analyzing the law structures of alien societies and he studied the Book of Traditions.” The Viking Warrior was true to his liege and Clan Chief, but he resented the fact that Erik Gustav was off planet more often than home and he did not even want to understand or hear anything about Off World things.” Your place is here, my liege and not at a faraway place beyond the skies. What business do you, what business do we Neo Vikings have there anyway. We need them not!”

“Okrning, you are a good man and one I trust with my life, but as much as we want to we can not remain completely isolated. For all our strength we are nothing compared to what is out there and I am the one standing guard much like Heimdahl, to keep the Nubhirs at bay.”

Reinhold listened to the conversation and said nothing. “He too was a trusted warrior but he resented the Olafson business, Erik Gustav's decision even more and he blamed his clan chief for the death of his wife. A wife that died before she could give him a son.

It was less than a decade ago in old Terran years when Erik Gustav was elected as the Representative of Nilfeheim and had left for Pluribus the first time. When Erik Gustav returned for the first time he also carried a curse to this world. A microbe, a bacteria or something of that kind and while Erik Gustav was immune due to the treatments he had received Off World, the men and women of Ragnarsson rock were not. The fever spread fast and it made many sick, and before the decision was made to move on from home remedies to call the doctor from the Union Clinic it was too late. Hilda Hellstrom the wife of Erik Gustavson and his Gunhilde had died, killed by an off world disease. The Off World doctor even laughed it off and made fun how easy it would have been to save them all if he had been called right away.

Reinhold knew this haunted the Old Man and he very much grieved over the loss of his wife. Erik Gustav had loved his wife very much, no one doubted that. Reinhold found this however a fitting punishment from the Gods for the man who brought the disease in the first place.

He would serve his master but he was no longer the staunch defender of all Ragnarsson and so he decided not to tell the Old Man what everyone knew, Volund did not really die of an accident and that the upstart Isegrim was bedding a Nubhir herders wife instead of having eyes only for his pregnant wife.



<p lang="en-US">--””--

<p lang="en-US">No one could really remember a winter storm of such ferocity. Temperatures have dropped to minus ninety nine on the C – scale, but the rumbling thunder and the lighting was quite rare.

<p lang="en-US">Erik Gustav could almost feel the atmosphere of mistrust and anticipation wafting like fog through the walls of Ragnarsson Rock. This was not how he envisioned the the last days of his Clan and if he was true to himself, he was not a good clan chief. A good chief was reachable and took care of his clans needs and concerns. A clan chief was more than a ruler, he was also a protector and care taker; he had not taken very good care of his.

<p lang="en-US">As much as he was a man of Nilfeheim rules and traditions, he also was a Union Citizen now and no matter how many times he told himself how necessary his task was to be the Nilfeheim Representative,, he knew the true reason was that he was intoxicated by Pluribus, by being a member of the Finance and trade council. Men like Rex Schwartz knew him and respected him. He had the private access code to the President of the Union Bank.

<p lang="en-US">There were other Reps that used tele-presence Avatars, they could even have hired a professional representative from one of the Representative Agencies, but that weren't options he considered.

<p lang="en-US">He sat in his old chair before the massive fire place in the Lords Hall and stared into to the orange flames licking around the Tyranno Oil drenched soak stones.

<p lang="en-US">Next to him sat five Elders and together they waited for Isegrim Olafson. They had summoned Isegrim and expected his summon to be answered in time, yet they waited now for over an hour before they saw the massive Olafson come up from the High Halls.

<p lang="en-US">The son of Volund so it appeared had grown even bigger than the last time he remembered. Instead of a sword, he wore a coiled whip and his beard was not braided but an open mess of black curls. He wore the Clan Chief necklace of the Olafsons and the Red fur brimmed cloak, Erik Gustav had given Volund as a gift not so long ago.

<p lang="en-US">Isegrim planted himself with crossed arms before the three Elder. “The Elders summoned me and here I am.”

<p lang="en-US">Erik Gustav said. “We expected you to heed my call over an hour ago, but you being tardy had been a problem even when your father was alive.”

<p lang="en-US">“I have chores and work. I am not an idle man.” “That is a good sentiment indeed. Maybe it will suit you well if you hire out to another clan to cast nets or help them scrub Nubhir hides. You are the husband of my beloved daughter but don't test me again.”

<p lang="en-US">Isegrim glared at the older man. “Are you retracting from thy contract and word?” “No Isegrim, never has a Ragnarsson retracted a word given, as a matter of fact I wanted to make sure you know the full extend of that contract, once the Elders have completed their business with you.” The Ragnarsson chief motioned to the other Elders. “Now pay your respects to the Elders as it is tradition and just, or do you reject our laws and traditions?”

<p lang="en-US">“I live by it.”

<p lang="en-US">Isegrim bowed and greeted the Elders as it was required. “I have a wife that is close to give birth, the joys of fatherhood awaiting me and I tent not to be miss a moment of it.”

<p lang="en-US">One of the elders said. “According to our laws and traditions I ask you here and now, are you intend to become the clan chief of the Olafson. Are you going to ask the Circle present to confirm ye in this?” “Of course, I am the first born and there is no one who challenges me.”

<p lang="en-US">“You are aware of all the implications? You are then not only speaking for thyself but for all Olafson. You are to sit in the company of Chiefs at the great council and all contracts, bonds and pledges made in the name of the Olafson Clan before you are binding to you.” “Of course I know it all. I was born to this! I shall abide by the laws and traditions and accept the bonds, contracts and pledges made by those who came before me, so I swear upon the spear of Odin.”

<p lang="en-US">“Then it shall be so.” All the old men rose from their chairs and the same Elder declared.” You are hereby declared Chief of the Olafson Clan and all thy peer shall recognize you as such. Your word is that of Olafson, your will is that of the Clan.”

<p lang="en-US">One of the Elders handed him the Clan leader seal ring, that had been collected by them from Volund's hand. “This is your last chance to step back, you put this ring upon your hand it is done and your oath is sealed.”

<p lang="en-US">Isegrim grunted and put the ring on his finger and his victorious grin was showing despite his beard.

<p lang="en-US">Erik Gustav however also smiled. “Of course one of the contracts and pledges you just confirmed is this one. “ The Ragnarsson Chief produced a leather bound folder with the seals of the two clans upon it. “This is the very contract I have made with Volund and the Olafson Clan, it was sealed with that ring and by you wearing it you accepted that.”

<p lang="en-US">Isegrim waved his hand. “Of course, and I know it makes the Clan chief of the Olafsons the lord over this burg and all that it represents, is that not the case Old Man?” “Almost, Isegrim, almost but not quite. It makes your first born son that comes forth between your Union to Ilva Ragnarsson the sole inheritor of it all, both Olafson and Ragnarsson and he will be Lord over it all. You are, like Volund steward.”

<p lang="en-US">Isegrim was neither concerned nor surprised. “I know that too, but he will be my son and this is Nilfeheim. He is born and whatever I decide will be his.”

<p lang="en-US">Isegrim cracked both seals and opened the folder and then scanned over the document. He found what he was looking for and read: the first born shall inherit the day he is declared a man before the Elders. Until then the Care taker and Steward of the Ragnarsson holdings on Nilfeheim remain under the control of the last living Ragnarsson, a retainer of twelve percent of the earnings of the Nilfeheim bound estates shall be paid annually to the Steward.”

<p lang="en-US">One of the Elders said. “You remain the Steward until your son turns 16 and is declared a man before the Elders.”

<p lang="en-US">Isegrim lost his grin. “I have to wait sixteen years? What happens if he dies, this is a dangerous world and I don;t intend to cuddle my son but raise him as a warrior born.”

<p lang="en-US">Erik Gustavson said. “Then it is mine to decide what to do with it. The Contract dies with my future grandson.”

<p lang="en-US">Neither the Elders nor Isegrim saw the midwife rushing up the stairs in great hurry, summoned by a chambermaid.

<p lang="en-US">Isegrim finally sat down, and whatever he said was drowned in a mighty thunder clap. The electric lights flickered and went out. The deafening thunder was followed by loud shouting. “Fire!”

<p lang="en-US">

<p lang="en-US">-””--

<p lang="en-US">Isegrim and Erik Gustav dressed as quickly as they could and with cold masks before their faces rushed with other men of the burg to follow the shouts of alarm. Going out without a cold mask in that weather was close to suicide, a deep breath could freeze the water in the lungs. Lightning has struck into the roof of the Free man's quarters. Debris and rock pieces littered the ground before the three story house, and bright flames licked out of the hole.

<p lang="en-US">Fire was rare but not completely uncommon on a world where most cooking and heating was done with open flame, but the lack of wood in building houses made house fires not as destructive and dangerous as they once had been so long ago on planet Earth.

<p lang="en-US">It took them little time to reach the attic

<p lang="en-US">Greifen, the yard master of the Ragnarsson burg with a sod blackened face reported. “The lighting ignited these bales of Sea grass that we had stored here, but I don't think it will spread, Sire.”

<p lang="en-US">Erik Gustav raising his own falcon shaped cold mask said. “What is done to make sure?” “We are pulling what has not caught fire yet away and we throwing snow on the flames.”

<p lang="en-US">Isegrim snorted. “No sense to stand out here then. Things are well in hand.”

<p lang="en-US">Lighting brightened the sky and thunder rolled over whatever he said.

<p lang="en-US">Greifen looked through the hole in the roof and said. “I wonder what it is that made Thor so angry tonight?” Erik Gustav turned to the stairs. “Greifen, the generator?” “It has stopped working, no one we have knows such things. It has always worked.”

<p lang="en-US">Erik Gustav did not say out loud what he was thinking but he realized just how backwards Nilfeheim really was. They really thought the gods were real and could not even service a simple generator, and yet they were part of a space faring community that harnessed the energies of stars.

<p lang="en-US">“Call for service then, it is not good to be without electricity in weather like this.”

<p lang="en-US">Greifen said.”I fly to Halstaad Fjord at once, my liege. Our only terminal is in the still room and it too needs power.”

<p lang="en-US">Erik Gustav only nodded and turned himself to leave the Freeman house. Halfway down the stairs he was stopped by a woman in fur cloak and the blue dress of a maid, her face bright red. “Sire, the Lady she is giving birth and the midwife says we need the Union doctor fast!”

<p lang="en-US">--””--

<p lang="en-US">Three hours had passed since the maid had delivered the urgent plea. Even with power, the Galnet terminal was not Avatar enabled. He then learned that not even the clinic was Avatar enabled and one of the doctors of the Union Clinic at Halstaad Fjord had to come out to the burg in a flyer. The Union Clinic was technically way to small and understaffed, but it was seen as an admission of weakness to go the Union Clinic. Nilfeheim vikings first tried to doctor themselves and use old fashioned home remedies before consulting the clinic. Children were born at home and if the mother to be was lucky, important enough and of a clan she could rely on a midwife.

<p lang="en-US">It had taken almost an hour to find a free doctor and while the clinic maintained a small fleet of modern very fast all weather Flyers. One was not working, the two others were in use when Erik Gustav used his own PDD to call. A young Union doctor had finally arrived and was rushed into the bed room by the midwife.

<p lang="en-US">The men were standing in the drawing room, each of them nervously brooding. Isegrim feared that he would have to go back to the crumbling burg when his wife died before she could deliver the twins. It was his nature to care more about that than about the young woman who was his wife, fighting for her life.

<p lang="en-US">Erik Gustav was very worried about his daughter and he noticed that he had done not enough as Planet Representative. The Clinic not having an Avatar enabled GalNet terminal was something it should have had. That he had not learned from the last time, when a disease killed his own wife and did not purchased one for the burg. He was so rich he could buy one for every burg on Nilfeheim and he prayed to Odin to keep Hel away, he would then do just that.

<p lang="en-US">The burg was eerie dark, the generator still not working. The only service company in town for these things was closed for the night. There was another one at Isen Lansby and he promised to come as soon as he had serviced three others first.

<p lang="en-US">Without electric heat, the old fire places had a hard time keeping the big burg warm. Not that there was even enough soaked stones or Sea Weed bricks to keep them all going.

<p lang="en-US">He had called the office of his company and they diverted one of his freighters, picking up a new Zero Point Power Provider and a few thousand tons of fire wood. All his money however could not make them fly faster or arrive here before the eight weeks the trip would take.

<p lang="en-US">Isegrim paced back and forth and grunted. “What is it that takes so long? He is a Union doctor in Odin's name, he should be able to fix whatever is wrong in no time.”

<p lang="en-US">Erik Gustav glanced at the priceless mantle clock above the fire place, an antique his family had brought from Earth a little over 2800 years ago. He had it restored by an expert only ten years ago and it kept time in a very peculiar way by pointing two arm like pointers at the circular arranged numbers around the clock's face. It was Gothorm Ragnarsson, his grandfather who had shown him how to read the time. The two mechanical hands had almost joined at the top. It was only a minute before midnight. Of course the clock kept Earth time, but since days on Nilfeheim lasted month and nights years, the colonists had kept to the 24 hour division of the day.

<p lang="en-US">While he stared at the clock he remembered that one of his Assembly colleagues told him that many of the old Terran Human colonies still kept OTT, Old Terran Time. It simply seemed natural to humans and fit their natural biological rhythm. He tried to keep himself calm remembering these trivial facts at a time like that.

<p lang="en-US">The larger one of the clocks hands moved with a fine almost inaudible click. Almost at the same time the bright cold white bluish light of a flash illuminated everything for briefest moment and the following thunder felt as if it actually shook the massive stone walls.

<p lang="en-US">The door to Ilva's bed room opened and Freydis, the wife of Hogun Olafson and Ilva's midwife appeared, holding something swaddled in a blanket. “Lord Isegrim, behold thy son!”

<p lang="en-US">Isegrim forgot everything, all his selfish thoughts all his plans to kill the woman and the child to gain the riches as he saw the tiny pinkish human baby. The very first thing he saw was that his son had his eyes wide open, blue eyes with a shade of gray. The baby raised his incredibly small arms towards his face. With shaking hands, with a flood of unexplainable pride and a feeling that even he recognized as love he took the infant and held it up. “Odin and Thor behold all ye Aseir. This is my son!”

<p lang="en-US">Erik Gustav was moved with feelings very similar. A son was born, the Ragnarsson legacy would continue. Yet the wave of pride was swept aside as he saw the doctor coming out the room. “My daughter, how is she? And where is the other baby?” The doctor said. “You should have called me much earlier. The midwife is good but your daughter had an acute and life-threatening complication in the last sate of her pregnancy, characterized by the appearance of tonic–clonic seizures. It is called Eclampsia and I had to call Med Central to diagnose and treat it right. It is virtually...” Erik Gustav yelled, interrupting the medic. “Dr. Dwyer how is she?” “I have her in a deep sleep, she will recover fully and I managed to keep the boy alive. The girl however is still born and beyond any medical help.” Isegrim still holding the baby. “My son is healthy?”

<p lang="en-US">“Your baby boy is the picture of health and the first baby I ever delivered that was born with open eyes, rare but not completely unknown.”

<p lang="en-US">The Midwife said. “He is a warrior born like no other, mighty Isegrim. When the doctor slapped his behind he did not cry, but clenched his tiny fist and raised his arm as if wanted to strike back at whoever slapped him.”

<p lang="en-US">The baby had gotten a hold of Isegrims's beard and the tiny creature smiled. Isegrim cooed. “He knows his father and his grip is strong, oh aye he is an Olafson!” Then he held the baby out to Erik Gustavson.

<p lang="en-US">The patriarch of the Ragnarssons also raised the baby to his face. He had seen many wondrous sights on Pluribus and yet that rosy little boy that reached with his arms out shined all the wonders of the Universe. He reminded him of his own children as he held them for the first time, one of them being his daughter, the mother of this baby. “Hail to you my grandson, hail Eric Thor Olafson, may your life be long and your way be true!”

<p lang="en-US">Isegrim said to the doctor. “My wife?”

<p lang="en-US">The doctor told him the same thing he said to Erik Gustav and they all went in to see her. She looked peaceful, her golden hair like a precious veil around her. Yet even Isegrim could not fight his emotions as he saw the tiny shape covered underneath a piece of cloth on the bed beside her. He told himself that she was just a girl and he did not care for the woman or the babies, and that his true love was waiting in Halstaad Fjord. They had decided it was wisest for Gretel not to be at the Burg, especially since Erik Gustav was here. Yet as he thought of Gretel and saw his wife and the dead born girl, he decided to let her wait till the very last Longnight occurred on Nilfeheim and be a better husband and the best father Nilfeheim ever saw. Whatever hold that blonde devil had over him felt suddenly broken. His son would be the heir to all Olafson and Ragnarsson. His son, never had words more meaning to him. “The girl shall find eternal rest with the warriors and first ladies of Olafson and she will receive a send of like no other woman has ever received, she shall not die without a name. Her name will be Freya and such will it say on the Mehir raised in her memory!”

<p lang="en-US">--””--

<p lang="en-US">Not just Erik Gustav noticed the change in Isegrim as he came down the stairs the very next day with Ilva on his arm, carefully walking. Both decked out in their finest. Isegrim wearing full clan chief regalia, the clan necklace however covered with a black cloth signifying the death of an important clan warriors. He also wore Hevnen the sword.

<p lang="en-US">Ilva in a long flowing gown of deep red velvet, with golden seams. Her hair reaching past her waist brushed into a luster, that was made gold look dull and cheap. A black veil signified her mourning.

<p lang="en-US">There in the High Hall everyone living at the Burg and the Elders of Nilfeheim had been gathered. Even the low men had been called and had a chance to clean themselves. Erik Gustav waking behind them holding the baby, this time in the traditional Nubhir fur lined blanket that was the same deep red as the mothers dress and it was embroidered with the wolf heads and the silver falcon. Ilva making and embroidering this blanket in the many month of her pregnancy.

<p lang="en-US">Isegrim stopped at the three step stairs that led from the so called Lord's retreat into the High Hall of the Ragnarsson Burg. Then he took the bundle from Erik Gustav and held the child high so all could see and with a booming voice he proclaimed. “This is my first born son, brought to this world by my wife the First Lady of this Clan. We also mourn the loss of my daughter Freya Olafson, who was taken by Hel.” He lowered the baby and said. “This day and tomorrow will be in her honor and I command you to strip all flags and cover all shields. To the stone cutters I say cut me a Mehir and emboss her name upon it, but in ten days from today, we will gather to celebrate the naming day of my son.”

<p lang="en-US">Erik Gustav said. “To send my granddaughter off to the plane of the dead in fashion befitting, I command the cellars to be opened and the kitchens to provide the finest for a feast in her honor for all of you, tonight you are all guests and no difference shall be made as what your stand might be. Tonight we are united in grief and membrane and to this the way we send of the most honored among us.”

<p lang="en-US">Isegrim handed the newborn back to Erik Gustav. The Ragnarsson scion stood stood two steps higher and the tiny baby reached out and his tiny hand reached for Mjördaren.

<p lang="en-US">It was of course a completely random event, but there was hardly a society in all the Universe who put more credit into signs and omen than the Neo Vikings of Nilfeheim. A collective sigh went through the assembled crowd and one of the Elders said. “Not rattles or toys are what a new born Olafson reaches for, nay but a sword. A warrior born indeed!”

<p lang="en-US">–“”--

<p lang="en-US">Naming Day

<p lang="en-US">A new egg shaped stone, cut from a boulder that had been dug out from meters of snow and carried to the field behind the round house. There also under a thick layer of snow were the rock mounds and rock markers of the graves of the most revered. On a planet with so little land, the dead usually received a burial at sea. The greatest warriors and heroes were burned aboard a wooden ship, the wood brought all the way from Earth. The old clans, however maintained a burial field behind the Round house and all the way to Mount Asgard. It was there where they had placed the little body of the dead born girl.

<p lang="en-US">Ilva the mother of the girl wrapped in a black fur brimmed cloak stood there. The wind pulling on her cape. Her face hidden behind a fine fur Nubhir wolf mask. The men were all gone after she had asked to be alone for a while. Her father had left a flyer for her to use behind and only after the third assurance that she would be fine they had left.

<p lang="en-US">The bitter cold had long penetrated the cape her insulated clothing underneath, yet she did not want to leave just yet. She had so looked forward to raise the twins. To have a girl of her own, hoping she would grow up in a better world.

<p lang="en-US">All her life she had been raised to be a proper Nilfeheim woman and after her mother died, she had first hated her father but she knew how much he had loved her and that it was a terrible accident. She then tried to be a good daughter, especially as fate was not kind to the Ragnarsson clan and her older brother had died in a Tyranno Hunting accident.

<p lang="en-US">She sensed his presence and said without turning, “She is dead Old Egill. I have a beautiful son, but his sister is dead.” Her voice was just a hint above a whisper.

<p lang="en-US">“I could be twice as old, lovely Ilva and still would not know what to say to make it easier for you. Nilfeheim is Hel's realm and this our world is aptly named.”

<p lang="en-US">“It would not have happened if we opened a little more to the worlds beyond our orbit, but women are still nothing but ornaments meant for pleasure, bearing sons for them.”

<p lang="en-US">“Death happens even on Pluribus, the old reaper has not lost his sting and old Hel has never suffered shortage. As you know I hoped Freya would be the one, the one I could raise as a Warrior.”

<p lang="en-US">She turned to look at the equally thickly bundled up old man they often called the Wizard of Nilfeheim. “I so wish Tyr would be here.” She knew she could not see her sad smile but she knew he could sense it.

<p lang="en-US">He pulled her close and said. “He knows my child, I am sure and knowing him he will be the first Tyranno that weeps. Now let us go back, your son is alive and he does need his mother.”

<p lang="en-US">

<p lang="en-US">--””--

<p lang="en-US">Erik Gustav had spared no expenses to make the naming day of his grandson a momentous event. The Burg was made snow and ice free as possible. Flags and banners everywhere and even the low men had received new clothing. Every room in the burg was filled with guests, many clan chiefs were invited and all the Elders. A delegation from Hasvik along with the First Keeper was there, even Bjorn Igvarhein the operator of Nilfeheim Radio was there to record the event and broadcast it.

<p lang="en-US">The tables almost buckled under the weight of the mountains of food. A dozen grills with entire Fangsnappers slowly turning over open flame. There were stacks of barrels of beer, ale and mead.

<p lang="en-US">The ceremony drew near and again just like at the wedding, oak tree branches had been transported all the way from Earth and decorated the High Hall, the Elders had brought the most precious artifact of the planet, an altar to Odin made of pure platinum. It was richly decorated depicting the one eyed god, his ravens and all the other symbols associated with the father of the Aseir. It had been placed just beyond the three wide steps that led from the High Hall to the Lords retreat area. The big table that usually was at the center of the High Hall had been pushed to the side and chairs were placed in rows to the left and right of a dark red carpet running from the main entrance all across the polished stone floor of the High Hall and to the Odin Altar.

<p lang="en-US">High iron wrought braziers and oil fed torches lined the walls. From the twenty meter high vaulted ceiling hung the famous eight huge chandeliers made of Tyranno Fin bones and the skulls of long perished enemies of the Olafson clan had been brought from the Old Olafson rock to symbolize that this was now the new Burg of the clan. Each of these chandeliers had thirty six of these sud blackened skulls with a long lasting candle burning in each of the skulls half open jaws. These macabre lamps were the source of many legends and were known far beyond the walls of the Olafson Clan. Isegrim standing in his finest Chief regalia looked up to these chandeliers. It was an old Olafson game to know the name of each enemy, whose cranium bone was attached up there. Each time a mistake was made, a tankard of ale had to be emptied. Only massive Hogun was ever able to beat him in that game.

<p lang="en-US">No ancient symbol had been overlooked; Odin's spear lay upon the altar, the Elders wore their white robes and the goði, the priests from Hasvik, had added dark red capes to their robes. The first keeper an old man wore a robe adorned with the world tree Yggdrasil embroidered on his chest. Over hundred fifty Clan chiefs in full regalia, swords and shields accompanied by first sons, warriors and wives filled the mighty hall. Even a delegation of Clan Chiefs of the East had been arrived and welcomed. The Eldest, the hermit they called the wizard of Nilfeheim was here as well and that he had left his lonely burg was seen as an omen of great importance.

<p lang="en-US">Gretel was standing in the back, next to Brunar Bendixen, disguised with a dark wig and a veil. She had used a generous dose of the Shaill pheromone to attract the man and then spiked his ale with an illegal hypno drug. Despite her sisters complaints, she had not wasted her time spending time in virtual reality. There she talked to others and there she learned about the subtle ways to entice and control others via psycho drugs. After she had heard of it she soaked up every bit of knowledge she could find. Her sister's money purchased a neural upload on Shaill poisons and toxins. She even learned about Connector and one based on Twilight Moon supplied her with a small collection of Shaill hyno drugs, pheromone perfumes and deadly poisons. Of course the possession and use of such drugs was highly illegal. She cared little about that, she was beyond Union law on Nilfeheim. Here, the knowledge she had gained and the content of the little box would make her a queen and give her the tools for revenge. The Shaill, a very disgusting species of huge sentient slugs had based an entire civilization on the mastery of biochemistry and could at will make their glands produce the most complex and potent bio toxins and compounds. While it wasn't Psionics and the potions could only increase and reinforce emotions that were already there, but with the help of inhibition lowering and hypno suggestive psycho drugs the primitive men of this cold world could be molded to her will.

<p lang="en-US">How Isegrim freed himself was not entirely clear to her, but seeing him with his son and that blonde bitch, she suspected strong emotions overpowered the effects of her drugs. It took little persuasion to convince Brunar to take her along, introduced as a high lady of his clan. The Bendixen clan was not an ally of the Ragnarssons and an open enemy to the Olafsons, but it was tradition to invite friend and enemy alike on a day like this. That they had to stand in the back was due to the fact that there weren't enough chairs left and it was the allies and friends of the clans that had reserved seats.

<p lang="en-US">Next to Brunar stood his father Odvar Bendixen, he too was under the influence of Gretel's hypno drugs, he too needed little convincing to simply ignore her. He was talking to the clan chief of the Elhir. Leif Elhir who like Isegrim had just recently become the leader of his clan snorted. “That whelp they name today, is celebrated like a the coming of the first king of Nilfeheim.”

<p lang="en-US">Odvar Bendixen kept watching the last guests arrive. “Aye and the first king he just might be. His name is going to be Eric and he is going to inherit not just the riches of the Ragnarssons, this shrewd clan has gathered on this world, but the billions Erik Gustav has. There isn't a week going by one of his freighters lands. Do you know how much a freighter like that costs?”

<p lang="en-US">“No and what need would I have for such a thing? We are Norse.”

<p lang="en-US">“You could by every boat and sub on Nilfeheim and have the spare change to buy a hundred more. Maybe that illustrates it better to you. We are not as isolated from the rest of the Union as you think. Wealth is power and in that regards Erik Gustav is more powerful than all the clans.”

<p lang="en-US">Gretel could barely keep quiet. She had seen what the money of her sister could buy, and if her plans came to fruition, those billions would be hers.

<p lang="en-US">Leif said. “His father had to hire on our boats to keep his clan fed and now Isegrim spends more coin on the naming of his son than his clan has seen in five Long nights. What I like to know is, what they paid the hermit to come down from his rock.”

<p lang="en-US">“Yes that would be interesting to know. His endorsement would get me a seat in the circle right away. Yet he is known to refuse even the most generous gifts. They say he is a wizard and has the ear of the gods.”

<p lang="en-US">Gretel could not hold back and whispered .”There is no such thing as gods and there are no wizards.”

<p lang="en-US">Odvar turned to her and the thin veneer of psycho drugs could not change the fact that he was a Nilfeheim man.”Silence woman, don't blaspheme. How are you again?”

<p lang="en-US">She lowered her head. “I am the companion of Brunar, thy lordship.”

<p lang="en-US">He grunted. “Then know your place and be silent. It behooves you not to speak when Chiefs converse. A woman is silent and knows her place. Brunar see that she knows her place and later you will tell me from what clan she hails and why the proper traditions have not be kept.”

<p lang="en-US">Brunar tried to remember and looked at Gretel. “I don't really remember.”

<p lang="en-US">Gretel was saved by a blasting of horns and pipes, calling the assembled to attention. She knew how close she came to lose it all. The bio chemicals worked but it seemed the effect was not as strong as she hoped. She also remembered the warning of her Virtu instructor, that strong emotions could break the bio chemical spell.

<p lang="en-US">The music played on the old instruments swelled to a rousing tune, every Norse knew. The hymn to the Seven Aseir was a well liked sacred melody.

<p lang="en-US">Then the crowd became silent as the Eldest of them all. Egill Skalagrimsson came walking along the red carpet carrying a heavy object. Someone whispered. “It is the Blótbolli.”

<p lang="en-US">Brunar asked his father. “Is that the cup they made of the Nogoll skull. Do you know the story?”

<p lang="en-US">“Indeed son, the Nogoll an alien race and part of the Galactic Council raided many Union Colonies during the big intergalactic war. An advanced scouting party of the Nogoll also landed on Nilfeheim. They picked the wrong planet and none of the Nogoll left. This cup was made of the skull of the Nogoll commander, felled by Siegfried Olafson. It galls me to say but that man was perhaps the wildest and strongest Viking ever to live. They say he was even bigger than that giant Hogun.”

<p lang="en-US">The eldest with a solemn face carried the heavy skull cup and stepped up to where Isegrim held his first born. There the First Keeper of Hasvik took the spear of Odin from the altar and Isegrim cut his hand on the razor sharp spear and dripped his blood over the forehead of the child. “This is my son! My blood is his blood, his blood is Olafson. Before Odin, Thor and the Aseir; before the Elder of Nilfeheim and the holy men of Nilfeheim. I declare thee to be Eric Thor Olafson!

<p lang="en-US">Isegrim dropped more blood into the cup the old man held and now Erik Gustav cut himself and dripped blood over the newborn. “This is my grandson and sole heir, My blood is his blood his blood is Ragnarsson. Before Odin, Thor and the Aseir; before the Elder of Nilfeheim and the holy men of Nilfeheim I swear that all that is mine shall be his on the day he is declared a man and warrior. Hail thee my grandson Eric Thor Olafson.” Then he too dropped blood into the cup.

<p lang="en-US">To their all surprise the old hermit they often called the wizard of Nilfeheim cut himself on the spear as well and dropped blood over the infant and said with deep emotion in his voice. “Many Longnights and Shortsummers have past since I was born, but I am thy kin Eric Olafson and my blood is your blood. Before Odin, Thor and the Aseir; before the Elder of Nilfeheim and the holy men of Nilfeheim I swear to be thy teacher and protector and no secret I guard shall be secret to you.”

<p lang="en-US">Huge Hogun Olafson stepped up to the spear and he too sprinkled blood over the infant. “My blood is your blood. Before Odin, Thor and the Aseir; before the Elder of Nilfeheim and the holy men of Nilfeheim I swear to be thy godfather and protector.”

<p lang="en-US">The First Keeper raised the cup. “This cup, filled with the blood of the mighty Tyranno, slain this morning by the Eldest. May the strength and might of this world flow through thy veins. I hereby declare thee to be known as Eric Thor Olafson. Bring though honor to thy name. Hail Odin, Hail Thor.”

<p lang="en-US">The assembled crowd roared and chanted the name Eric Olafson as the First Keeper doused the newborn with the gory liquid. A chieftain of the Olafson clan raised his sword. “Behold the scion of our Lord is not crying, he is not wailing but he is raising his tiny fist. Oh aye a warrior born!”

<p lang="en-US">Not even the Elhir clan chief had a dry eye. “Obnoxious they may be, those who bear the name Olafson, but this my friend of the Bendixen Rock is how a first born is named.”

<p lang="en-US">Gretel, was born a Low men's daughter and much of the legends and traditions were for the Lords and the clans. The Freemen also observed the traditions, the Low men usually had no time for such things, but she was child of Nilfeheim and the event was not completely lost to her, but she would replace that first born with one of her own. Isegrim was beyond her reach, but just for now. It was not easy to get to a Clan island without being invited. She needed to be alone with Isegrim just for a few moments, reveal herself and douse him with another load of the perfume. That black bearded bastard had the hots for her anyway, so much of the Shaill potion was not needed.

<p lang="en-US">She started thinking how she could remain on the rock. Being caught hiding somewhere after the festivities were over was not a good thing. Those burgs were close communities and a stranger had a hard time to blend in. She could always go down into the tanneries. No she never again would set a foot into a tannery. She had to get Isegrim another time.

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<p lang="en-US">The reason for the festivities had fallen asleep, despite the singing and the drinking. Isegrim still beaming with pride said. “My wife take our son, so he may rest more comfortable.”

<p lang="en-US">Ilva was taking the blood caked child and was glad this archaic ritual was over, but she was proud as can be.

<p lang="en-US">Just then the double doors opened, a cold blast of wind made the torches and chandeliers flicker.

<p lang="en-US">Three long shadows cast on the red carpet became shorter as three shrouded beings appeared in the doorway. Their form was clearly female. There was utter silence. One of the mysterious visitor spoke and her voice was not loud yet they all heard it clearly. “The sons of far distant Midgard gathered in celebration, praising the Aseir with much drink and food. Traditions of old mingled with the habits of a new world, have you no room on your tables for three weary travelers?”

<p lang="en-US">Isegrim stood and gestured to the tables. “No one is denied food,shelter and warmth on our hearths and our gates are open to friend and enemy alike, should they not bear the sword of battle into our midst. Strangers announce the names you are to known by and declare your intend and then let us close the doors, stoke fires and bring warm ale.”

<p lang="en-US">The big doors closed all by themselves and the shrouded woman in the middle drew back her hood, revealing long black hair but her face remained obscured by a black veil. “I am Verðandi, a traveler from the stars, these are my sisters Urðr and Skuld. We share much of the same roots, Men of Nilfeheim. We came to witness and bless this child. The Universe awaits his coming for a very long time.”

<p lang="en-US">Egill stepped forward and actually knelt before the strange woman. “The legends are true then.”

<p lang="en-US">“All legends are true, friend of the White One. It is the mist of time and the limited mind of man that shrouds distant events with the cobwebs of fantasy and embellishment.”

<p lang="en-US">Elkhart the first Keeper of Hasvik raised both hands, “The Nornir have not been seen for many ages. They arrive when a person is born in order to determine future.”

<p lang="en-US">Egill gasped. “You speak of Gods. Are the legends true after all?”

<p lang="en-US">The veiled women came closer. “What the true nature is of the legends and Gods you worship, you must answer for yourself and with your heart.”

<p lang="en-US">One of the other women spoke “ But yes my sisters and I have been called Norns by those humans that occupied that beautiful world so far distant from here. Long have our names and our true purpose been forgotten by the children of Midgard .”

<p lang="en-US">Now the third woman spoke directly to Elkhart “The men of Midgard have long forgotten us indeed, but the long lived offspring of the giants now disguised as man clearly remembers us.”

<p lang="en-US">She now turned to Egill. “Of our first visits to Midgard, all what remains are stories and legends carried to the stars and new worlds by you. What is a simple story evolves into tales of gods when told by many voices over many generations. Then they fade away and are remembered by a few.”

<p lang="en-US">Egill noticed that the men and women around them, had fallen asleep. Even Isegrim had slumped back into his chair with his chin on his chest.

<p lang="en-US">Now the other two women lowered their hoods. Egill remained kneeling. “Indeed man has grown up, and what our ancestors called gods, were just visitors with advanced technology. Who are you and what is your purpose. I am the first to welcome you but I also assure you I am not a defenseless simpleton.”

<p lang="en-US">Elkhart suddenly looked much stronger and more massive than even dozing Hogun. “They are visitors who walk among the Aseir. Who advised Thor and Odin. The messengers of fate itself and you question them?”

<p lang="en-US">“I am also a Citizen of the Union and if these are Visitors form a civilization we do not know, we must find out what they want!” To the women he said. “Now declare yourselves.”

<p lang="en-US">The woman who called herself Verðandi chuckled. “Have no fear Egill Skalagrimsson, we are indeed here for what we said we have come.” She lowered her staff and pointed it at the blood caked child lying inside a warriors shield. The infant was not asleep but moved his tiny arms. The shrouded woman said. “This cold and wet world so far away from all that seems important pieces of a cosmic puzzle that will be completed in this time and this Universe.”

<p lang="en-US">Egill could really tell which of the women spoke next. “Only you will remember our visit, old man. To others we will be nothing but a long distant dream.”

<p lang="en-US">The three women approached the child. Egill stepped before them. “I repeat, declare your intend. I will not let you get closer. Why have you come and what is it you want of Eric?”

<p lang="en-US">“The white giant has gifted you with formidable powers indeed. Your old friend you know as Elkhart is much more than he seems and he too is far from impotent. Yet we are not here to harm the child. We came to be the first to hail his coming and hope he remembers us when he comes into his own. There are forces more formidable than the Aseir you worship, seeking to prevent his arrival. His true nature must be hidden and remain a secret until he united the tokens of power. Once he collects the last piece, no force can harm him.” Elkhart said .”Then it is true, the children of Midgard will bring forth the one that rings in the age of Ragnarok.”

<p lang="en-US">The three women circled around the child. “We bring thee sand from the roots of Yggdrasil and water from the well of wisdom. A mistletoe from the world tree. Hail to thee Dark One!”

<p lang="en-US">Egill trembled involuntary. “This can not be. Science has replaced the superstition of old, there is no Thor. Thunder is made by the static discharge of lightning. The sun is not a chariot, but a simple star among many. There is no world tree.”

<p lang="en-US">“Yet you live on a planet where the men worship the Aseir. You call upon Odin on many times both in oath and curse. The Aseir had many names on your old world and each tribe of man described them differently. Did not the Sarans come to your world many times and were called gods by those humans dwelling in ancient Egypt. Do you think this happened only once and the Sarans were the only ones visiting that blue world of your origin? The ones you know as the Aseir are but an old advanced civilization.” Another Norn said. “Your Union is not far from reaching the same level of development and has the potential to far surpass them, especially now that the Narth are members of that Union. We Norns are all that is left of a yet older species from times long past. We became messengers of the Rule and through it we know of the potential this child has. All the conditions for the Dark Ones resurrection have been met, yet despite our reputation not even we can predict the future.”

<p lang="en-US">Egill looked at the little boy who found his own toes much more interesting than the mysterious women. “Tyr was very cryptic, but he usually is. He wanted me to be here, but I know he has been born of a normal Nilfeheim woman and was sired by a brutish Olafson. You arrival, your words make this child to be some sort of supernatural being.”

<p lang="en-US">“He might not be the Anti force himself, we can not yet sense its presence, but perhaps that child is yet another link in the chain of events that marks the arrival of the Dark One. Yet the Voice of the Rule was certain he is the one. We came to make sure he will grow undisturbed and unnoticed by the forces that want to prevent the rise of the Dark One.”

<p lang="en-US">The old Keeper who looked so different from his usual said. “He is a weak human, his body is fragile and death is a close companion. I shall gift him strength.”

<p lang="en-US">Egill turned to the old keeper. “You are not the Old man you claim to be.”

<p lang="en-US">“I am an old man, Egill. Just much older than most, but perhaps the term man in relation to Children of Midgard is not entirely correct.”

<p lang="en-US">-””--

<p lang="en-US">Egill found himself waking in one of the big chairs by the banquet table. He remembered having the strangest dream about Norns and Odin himself. It was a dream and details faded fast. The very idea that the shriveled old man with the stringy beard who was just getting up from another chair was all powerful Odin was a particular amusing aspect of that dream.

<p lang="en-US">He looked at the empty tankards, the mess and the demolished mountains of food. It was how Nilfeheim events and festivities always ended. Servants were already rushing around cleaning and putting things back in order.

<p lang="en-US">The last guests left with their Flyers and with heavy heads and so did the hermit of Nilfeheim. He was looking forward to see Tyr the white Tyranno soon.

<p lang="en-US">He was just about to descent to the Sub Den where his Poseidon was tied, when he was intercepted by Ilva. She carried her child and said. “I wanted to thank you for coming and making this a special day.”

<p lang="en-US">“It was a privilege, my lovely child.”

<p lang="en-US">“Promise me you shaggy old Wizard to teach him some of the things you know, and let him, when he comes of age, listen to your great wisdom. He is born into this beautiful but harsh world. He is, as you well know son to a very hard father who will demand much of him, but if you teach him like you have taught me, my dear gone brother and my beloved father all the things about the ancient Rite of passage, so he can rightfully choose whatever path he wants to go.”

<p lang="en-US">“I promise you, I will do that. When he is old enough I will summon him to my Rock and show and teach him as much as he lets me.”

<p lang="en-US">Ilva looked around to make sure she was not overheard. “Will you also introduce him to Tyr?”

<p lang="en-US">“Tyr already looks forward to see your son.”

<p lang="en-US">“Please tell that big fish how much I miss him.”

<p lang="en-US">“Short Summer is soon upon us once again and there will be reason for you to travel to the Pillar and you can tell him yourself.”

<p lang="en-US">Egill kissed the beautiful woman on the cheek and then kissed the infant, then he took his leave.

<p lang="en-US"> --””--

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<p lang="en-US" style="background:transparent"> 5004, Year

<p lang="en-US" style="background:transparent"> Isegrim stood at the bar in the Xchange cafe, watching through the large windows into the large warehouse, as his men unloaded the last crates of Flicker fish and Fangsnapper meat. The door opened and along with a flurry of snow flakes and a gush of cold wind Leif Elhir stomped in, cleaning his heavy boots over the snow grate. He looked around to see who was there and then he noticed Isegrim. “I see the winds also dragged in the steward of the Ragnarsson riches, running errands for the Old Falcon, as the true lord of these boats and men out there is busy doing obscure things far away from Nilfeheim shores.”

<p lang="en-US" style="background:transparent"> Isegrim turned, this hand dropping on his whip. “It appears the Elhir star is falling further every season. Not able to defend his meager catch against the Black Clan, now crawling and barking like a Nubhir pup, hoping to get attention of real men. I think this pup needs a lashing.”

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