Progress 19-06-2013



Year 4989, OTT The Olafson Clan

Once the Burg had been a beacon of wealth and might. It was perched atop the rugged dark rocks that made up the Olafson Isle. Tattered, wind torn scraps of fabric flapped from the poles. Once these rags had been bright flags with the black Wolf head upon the old vibrant Olafson red.

The mighty walls of this ancient Nilfeheim Burg had been a bulwark and shield for many generations of Olafson Vikings, but they were crumbling at many places. There was rust and decay everywhere.

This was the last year of Shortsummer and soon Longnight would once again descent upon Nilfeheim.

Volund Olafson stood with crossed arms on the parapet above the main gate and gazed towards the south. Volund was, like all Olafsons a big and strong man but his massive underarms had neither hefted a harpoon nor an axe or sword lately, but he was reduced to cast nets from the deck of an Elhir boat, as the Olafson clan had sold its last boat during last Longnight, as his clan needed the money to heat the Burg or freeze to death.

The winds were already cold again and tugged at the Fangsnapper cape the big man was wearing as his slate-gray eyes scanned slowly across the horizon of the endless Nilfeheim Oceans.

It had not always been that way. The Olafson clan was an Old Clan with a clean and uninterrupted line all the way back to the time when the first Colonists from Earth landed on this planet.

Alrik Olafson was among the first, so Family Lore knew, who stepped onto the surface of this world in 2160.

Alrik born in Denmark on Earth brought his family here along with 12,000 other members of the Viking Movement.

It was Alrik's grandson who stepped ashore right here on this Island, claiming it for his Clan. With the riches he and his friends obtained pirating other Earth Colonies he built this burg.

Even after Nilfeheim joined the Union and the space pirate days of the Neo Vikings from Nilfeheim ended, the Olafsons remained an important Clan and all the way until the last Clan wars almost 400 years ago. The Olafsons always had been known to be an especially a wild and violent clan, even on a world full of skull bashing Neo Vikings; that meant they picked more fights and formed alliances but sadly not always with the winning sides.

The last Clan wars caused the Olafson to loose their Nubhir farms and the Fangsnapper herds near Isen in tribute payments to the victorious alliance.

The clan never really recovered from that, but they slowly regained some wealth and influence but then Byrnjolf Olafson, Volund's grandfather had to picked a fight with the Trolle clan of all clans the richest and most powerful at that time and that cost the Olafson Clan three Hunting Subs and two fishing vessels.

Oh yes the Olafson always fought like warrior gods and were famous for their fighting skills, but usually picked the wrong side and the Trolle Clan had many allies. Fighting the Trolles reduced their once sizable clan fleet to two boats. Two fishing boats were barley enough to sustain the clan with food and left nothing for other essentials.

During the last Longnight and seven years of ice and snow, the Olafsons lost one boat to an accident and then had to sell the last one to survive.

Volund already feared that his son Isegrim would be the last Olafson Clan chief, lording over a starving clan that had to hire its men and warriors to other clans and simply fade away into oblivion. The future held a bleak end for the once so proud and strong Olafsons indeed. Six month ago, however everything changed.

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">Volund was in town, nursing a tankard ale in the old Bredeberg Tavern seeking to drown his sorrows when a fight broke out, nothing unusual on Nilfeheim of course, but this fight went from brawling with bare fists to drawn swords and axes.

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">He didn't exactly remember what the argument was about, but he fought back to back with another man and together cleared the room.

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">After the fight he and the other man clasped underarms and declared friendship. The other Viking was Erik Gustav Ragnarsson, the Clan chief of perhaps the richest Clan of all Nilfeheim, surpassing even the Trolle Clan, if the rumors were true.

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">Erik Gustav was already member of the Circle of Elder and had been elected to be Nilfeheim's Representative at the Assembly at the distant planet of Pluribus Unum.

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">It was him Volund was expecting and just then he spotted a small black dot at the horizon and it was getting bigger fast.

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">A sleek off World Skimmer, a luxurious Volvo F70 swooped down and landed on the concrete pad before the main gate.

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">Neo Vikings did not like Off World technology all too much, but skimmers, Arti Grav Flyers and Zero Point powered boats were simply essential on a world with out continents and only a few tiny islands for dry land.

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">Today was a special occasion, not only would Erik Gustav drink and feast wit him but he was bringing his only daughter along.

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">Erik Gustav was the heir and leader to the mighty Ragnarsson clan, but his only son died in a Tyranno Fin hunting accident only a year ago.

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">Volund barked a loud command down to the gate and two of his men raised the steel portcullis. The hydrogen powered power plant had been broken for almost 200 years now and so instead of using electric power, the gate had to be raised by turning hand cranks.

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">It was an old tradition and a symbolic gesture to open the gates for a honored guest. This is why he had the rusty portcullis lowered this morning in the first place.

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">While the creaking sound of metal sliding over metal indicated that his men labored to get the heavy obstruction up, so their guests could enter,he hurried down the narrow stairs, almost stumbled over a broken step, cursed the sorry state of his own castle and then placed himself in a dignified stance behind the now open gate arch.

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">By the Gods! That daughter of his was a beauty, he could tell despite the cloak and veil she wore.

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">Erik Gustav lost his wife to a disease before she could bear him another son.

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">That meant the Ragnarsson clan had no male heir. Here on Nilfeheim it meant the end of the Ragnarsson clan. Only males were allowed to inherit and carry the name.

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">Volund grabbed Oddløg's shoulder as that Olafson warrior came from the Crank alcove, sweating form the task rising the gate. “Quick, see that Isegrim is in his finest! Where is he? Does he not know what is at stake. Oh Oddløg make haste!”

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">Oddløg, was a stout warrior, not afraid to speak his mind. The scars over his body and face and his missing left eye were visible testimony of the many fights he fought. “Aye my liege I shall make haste and if I have to I will drag him up from the Tanneries.”

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">Volund raised his hand in the proper warriors hail and bellowed against the ever blowing wind. “Hail Erik Gustav of the Ragnarsson clan. Come and enter so we may clasp arms and raise tankards in friendship.”

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">Erik Gustav who stood before the gate was a grand sight indeed. This scion of the Ragnarsson clan was a tall man and had dark blonde hair, interlaced with the first silver of age and he wore it in thick braids as it was tradition. He was dressed in fine black leather, the silver falcon emblem of his clan upon his chest. His gauntlet gloved right fist resting on Mjördaren, the legendary broad sword of the Ragnarsson clan. Erik Gustav was known far and wide as one of, if not the finest swordsman of all Nilfeheim. Nineteen men he had challenged and all nineteen had died.

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">The visitor wore knee high boots and a billowing fur lined cape. Besides his daughter, he too had high ranking warriors of his clan along.

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">Now as the official invitation was spoken Erik Gustav came with a purposeful stride and approached Volund.

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">The Olafson chief turned his head and saw Oddløg running to the main Building. There was no sight of Isegrim. He had given strict orders to his oldest son to be at his side at this oh so important meeting.

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">Volund was silently cursing his oldest son. Oh aye he knew why the son of the Clan Chief, his own flesh and blood was drawn to the stinking bowels of the Olafson tannery, like a Flicker fish to the lantern of a fisherman. Yet he had closed his ears to the rumors and prayed to Odin that it wasn't true.

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">Rumors that his own First born son was bedding a Nubhir herders daughters. Volund clenched his fists. As soon as this utterly important business was done, he swore to himself to descend into the crofts and tannery himself and put that wench to the sword and then beat sense into his oldest son.

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">Oh why could Isegrim not be like Hogun, his second born? Yet Hogun was no longer here. He was gone, driven from his home by a now regretful father and the cursed laws and customs that made the First Born alone heir to it all.

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">Erik Gustav has reached him and they clasped underarms and Volund said. “Welcome to the Home of the Olafsons. Aye, it had seen better days, noble visitor, but there is naught a dwelling old Norse call home upon our cold world that seen more glory days. No other flag has ever been raised on our rock and oh so many have tried.”

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">The Clan Chief of the Ragnarssons nodded. “Aye, many tales and much heroic lore is told about this rock. Legendary is the wraith and fighting skills of thy Clan indeed, but what enemies and battle could not, the gnawing tooth of decay seems to accomplish.”

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">“It is a source of shame and degradation, noble visitor yet this specter of decay that has descended upon my burg can not be defeated with sword and axe, but with the content of a well filled purse.” “So let us do business then, let us put forth our offspring, for I have need for a heir and you are in need of..much else it seems.”

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">The Ragnarsson Chief half turned. “I present to you my daughter Ilva Ragnarsson, my last child and the pride of my heart. I hereby declare that she is of sound health and has not seen a man. Nor has any man laid eyes upon her since her twelfth birthday.”

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">The veil the girl wore did little however to hide the inedible beauty of the girl. Volund had rarely seen a more graceful figure and a more regal curtsey as she performed the traditional moves of greeting.

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">The Ragnarsson Chief looked past Volund. “Have you not summoned thy son? Have you decided against the solution we found during our last council?”

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">“Nay noble friend and honored guest. No Olafson has ever broken a word given. My son is on his way. He must have forgotten the time while doing his chores. Come then, Erik Gustav, join me in the High Hall. Meager our resources might be, but none shall say we neglect to be hosts. Come then and join me at our tables. You traveled far and spend much time beyond the heaven. Wondrous as your journey might have been, what compares to honest Viking food and mead?”

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">Erik Gustav followed Volund waved his entourage of daughter and warriors to follow and then put his arm on Volund's shoulder. “You too should travel, just once see Pluribus and the wonders of our Union, but aye a repast of Norse making is what I desire.”

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">--””--

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">Just as the one eyed warrior suspected, Oddløg did find Isegrim in the arms of the Nubhir Herders daughter.

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">His heavy hand fell on Isegrims's shoulder as his head was buried between the ample breasts of the blonde, who shamelessly grinned a triumphant and almost evil smile at him.

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">“On your feet! The fate of the clan rests upon thy shoulders, A suitable bride has been brought into these crumbling walls. A creature of high birth indeed and with her dowry alone able to purchase twenty new boats. I was tasked to bring you before our lord, and by Odin I will. You can walk or be dragged!”

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">Isegrim was a big young warrior, but he also was a coward and feared Oddløg and the punishment his father would find. He untangled himself of the woman and got out of bed.

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">She cooed. “Go my love, go and secure riches so we may live as your position commands.”

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">Oddløg half drew his sword, “Silence you wench! After the pact is made the Old man will descent

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">into these crofts and cleanse the filth you represent. Your father, your family and most of all you are doomed, hearing from me what I have seen he will make haste indeed!”

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">The Nubhir herders daughter's name was Gretel and only now did she pull the cover over her exposed breasts and her eyes sparkled .”Isegrim you won't let them harm me?” Isegrim now halfway dressed. “I help him burn you on the stake or feed you to the crabs if it lessens his anger at me. I found joy in this bed ,but I shall find joy in other beds. You are but a woman after all.”

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">Oddløg grabbed Isegrims's boots and pushed the First born son of Volund past the door frame and placed his own boot quite forcefully in Isegrims's behind. “Make haste, your Sire has summoned you.”

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">--””---

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">Erik Gustav sat at the old wooden table in the High Hall across Volund, his right hand holding a tankard and his left moving over the surface of the massive table. “Wooden furniture on a world without trees, the Olafson Burg still holds treasures and its name is spoken with respect all over this world of ours.”

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">Volund raised his tankard. “Olafson ale is one of these treasures, not that we can make as much of it as we used to. The grain comes from beyond Nilfeheim and so does the hops.” He took a deep drought.

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">Erik Gustav did the same, gave the rest in his tankard a thoughtful gaze then burped from the deepest region of his barrel chest and slammed his flat hand on the table; underneath his veneer of sophistication, the Lord of the Ragnarsson Clan was a Norseman .”Countless are the repasts and delicacies available to me while I represent our insignificant world at the breath taking Assembly of the Union, yet having a full bodies ale at the right temperature served in a Tyranno tooth tankard warming your very innards; ailed and praised by a belch worthy of Thor are not to be had.”

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">Volund leaned forward. “What news of the Union then? I do remember the excursion to Pluribus when I was in Union School.”

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">Erik Gustav wiped his beard. “I am representing our world for seven years now, ever since my beloved Hilda passed on. Do you know how many times I was called to press an issue, to convey news?” The Ragnarsson man held up his fist. “Not a single time, Volund of the Olafsons, while we Neo Vikings squabbled over fishing grounds, the Union went to war and we almost defeated the Kermac.” Volund remembered the word and knew Kermac meant something opposed to the Union, but that was about all he remembered. “What a victory is almost? Either you win or you loose. Have we lost?” “What begun almost 80 years ago with the Kermac attacking Green Hell, ended just recently with a second Signing of the Free Space treaty and an Armistice. The Galactic Council a shadow of its former self having lost almost 80 percent of their former sphere of influence agreed to all cease fire conditions requested.” “I do not claim to understand such things, but why stop there?”

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">Because a new Species intervened on behalf of the Kermac. They are called the Blue and are distant relatives. The Blue are highly advanced and control much space in the Andromeda Galaxy. They...”

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">Erik Gustav stopped. It was clear he had lost Volund's interest in the matter and smiled sadly. “Exactly this is why there are no calls, we do not care. My heart is still Norse and I understand, yet my eyes have seen wonders and powers that are more frightening than an angry Tyranno Fin while you share the water with it. I know how fragile and defenseless we really are. For this reason I can not step down, for this reason I must remain exiled from the world I love. “

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">Volund was not sure he understood what the other was speaking about but he was pleases as she saw his son Isegrim decked out in finest warrior garb. Oh aye Isegrim Olafson was a dashing sight, full of strength, and vigor, with raven black hair and glittering blue eyes.

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">Volund saw the bosom of the veiled Ragnarsson daughter raise in greater frequency as her beautiful eyes took stock.

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">Volund paid attention to Erik Gustav's lament once more. His noble guest waved at his daughter.. “I amassed great wealth both on this world and so much more beyond. I was blessed by a strong son and this lovely daughter. My son has died, and so has my wife and love. No other woman shall ever be by my side or share my chambers, so was the oath I made the day Hilda died. Hence no son of my blood will again be born.” He sighed as he looked at his daughter. “Only here on Nilfeheim is this a problem. My beloved and beautiful daughter can not inherit, neither my wealth nor my name, but she can bear a son of her own. In this future son I place my hope .”

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">Volund said. “My son is full of strength and he carries a name as old as Ragnarrson, but the words must be spoken.”

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">“Aye indeed. What are we if not shaped by our traditions and our honor. Volund Olafson, Lord mighty of the Olafson Clan. Honored of old, your son may court my daughter for the purpose of marriage.

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">Isegrim sat in his finest at the table and stared at the veiled woman. Her hair caught by ray of sun light gleamed like gold. Her eyes were big and green, he could not keep his eyes of her. Gretel was forgotten, this princess, this creature of finest Nilfeheim stock would be his bride after the required time of courting. His father had just clasped arms with Erik Gustav Ragnarsson.

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">Both of them pleased and more ale and beer was brought.

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">The old Ragnarsson still held Volund's arm. “Our Clans are soon to be one, the day I can no longer raise my arm, will be the day the Ragnarsson banner and shields will be placed in the Cave of forgotten Clans, but strong Olafson blood will mingle with mine in the Offspring these two will have.”

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">Volund's eyes glowed. “Aye a Grandson of this bond, wise and cunning as the Ragnarssons and strong as the Olafsons. When he becomes Clan Chief, who knows, the Throne of Gustavson could be his. Uniting the Clans of the West under one banner.”Volund raised his tankard. “His name shall be Eric to honor thy name. Eric Olafson!”

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">Erik still holding the others arm. “So I will be.”

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">Neither man was sober anymore and both basked in the future glory of a yet unborn heir and spun the tales of conquest, they all loved so much.”

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">Erik Ragnarsson pounded his fist onto the table's surface and made tankards dance. “It is not proper that the father of my daughter's husband lives like this. It behooves the Olafson Clan to be once more first among few.

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">Ragnarsson Rock is big and well maintained and it will serve our future grandson as a fitting cradle. Come ye Volund, move to my burg. Be it's steward and master, let your son Isegrim be master and steward once our both arms are weak until he who combines our blood is born and has passed the Ancient Rite of passage.

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">This burg can then be properly renovated for future use,”

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">“I can not deny the attraction of thy offer, but how can a Burg have two masters? ”

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; font-weight: normal">Erik Gustavson taking another deep drought of the strong ale. “I am more often than not away from Nilfeheim, By Odin's Sacred Spear I pledge everything I own, everything that is Ragnarsson both on this world and everything beyond shall be Eric Olafsons, he the unborn firstborn fruit of our children, but until the day he comes into his own, the Ragnarsson Burg shall know one master only.

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; font-weight: normal">

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">--””--

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">Erik Gustavson had left the Olafson burg three days later, taking his daughter and warriors along.

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">Volund waited until the flyer was a mere dot at the horizon and then he turned to his son who was standing behind him, on the court yard and smashed his fist with all might square in the face of Isegrim, only to follow up with a hail of blows and he yelled. “Oddløg, my hands getting tired, bring me the whip.”

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">Isegrim was a strong man already, but Volund was a true brute. He did try to land a few blows of himself but his old man caught his arm and executed a painful lock, almost breaking Isegrims's arm. Isegrim was on his knees as Oddløg brought a broad leather whip made of braided and twisted Fangsnapper leather. “Father have mercy. I deserved the beating but let up in your rage. I have seen the beauty and I gladly obey.”

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">“You are despicable, no warrior no matter the reason pleads for mercy, and no soul disobeys me on this rock. Not the Low men, not the Warriors and not even you son.”

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">Volund however dropped the whip and drew his sword instead. “Before we leave this rock and move to Ragnarsson Burg, I will cleanse this our ancestors home from all the filth. “

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">He stomped with heavy steps down the into the quarters of the Lowe men and descended upon the Hemstead low men. He killed them all and his sword and arm was full of blood as he hacked down another maid and yelled .”I will kill you all! Where is she?”

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">Volund raged like a demon and killed many, yet Gretel was not to be found.

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">--””--

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">Gretel had hidden herself in a near empty barrel of Urine, the disgusting reeking liquid was collected from humans and Nubhir alike and used in a very old process of tanning skins into leather. Now, wet and stinking she stalked between the dismembered bodies of the low men and she saw her own father, two of her younger sisters, uncles and those she called friends hacked to death. Using her voluptuous body to seduce the son of the Clan lord seemed such a good idea just so recently. A way to escape this filth and the abhorrent conditions that existed in the bowels of this burg.

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">What she thought of a game had turned into a nightmare. She felt sick to her stomach but she felt no remorse.

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">She knew of the stories, of the worlds that existed beyond the skies of Nilfeheim but Lowe men were not allowed to go to Union School and were kept by the Clans almost like property ,like slaves. The Lowe men of good and rich clans got salaries and other benefits, the Low men of poor clans were starving and had to work to the very bones for a little food and shelter.

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">Gretel had watched the visitors and saw the daughter of the other Clan chief from a basement window, unseen by them. She was regal, wore a fine velvet dress and had golden hair. It was easy to look like that if you had nothing to do all day but play the harp, do needle work and not much else.

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">But now she had to survive, leave this place somehow and unseen.

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">There was a little motor boat in the den, and while it was almost suicide trying to use it, it was preferable to certain death between these walls.

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">She could not hope to make it all the way to Bifrost in a small boat,without navigational tools and without really knowing how to use them even if she had them, but to the Bendixen Rock could be seen and since the Bendixen hated the Olafsons, maybe she was able to find shelter there.

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">--””--

<p align="center" lang="en-US" style="border-bottom: #000000 1.1pt double; border-left: medium none; padding-bottom: 0.07cm; padding-left: 0cm; padding-right: 0cm; border-top: medium none; border-right: medium none; padding-top: 0cm">Year 4990, OTT

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">The Old man was known as the Hermit, others called him a Wizard and most of Nilfeheim knew him as the Eldest. Almost no one knew or remembered his real name, Egill Skallagrímsson. He was a good dead over 400 years old and for the most part he lived all by himself on the tallest rock formation that reached above the water surface of the southern hemisphere. It was called the Pillar and was a thin column like rock, four hundred meters tall and on top no more than 80 meters in diameter. The base of the pillar, at the point where it reached the surface was only about 120 meters in diameter.

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">To reach the small Burg that was built on top of the rock pillar, one had to use a basket, attached to a steel cable and an electric winch.

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">The Pillar was far south and not to far from the permanent ice of the south pole region of this world. The first year of a new Longnight had arrived and in another twelve or thirteen month the ice flows that drifted around his burg would become a solid ice surface.

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">Egill had just returned from one of his rare shopping trips. His submarine, the only one of its kind on all Nilfeheim was loaded with the usual dry goods and packed groceries.

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">He sighed. This was the down side of being a Hermit, he had no one to help him carry the things. He was muttering curses and grunted every time he carried boxes and bags to the elevator basket.

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">Egill did not turn as a deep voice in his head said. “You could get all the help you wanted, or even buy one of these robots I read about. Even use your telekinetics to float the things up in your nest. Instead of cursing the ice of the rock.”

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">Egill placed a box with salt, spices and ready to eat dinners into the basket and turned. There next to the sleek Submarine, in the churning waves and between the ice floes surfaced an immense whitish shape with huge triangular shaped fins on top.

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">The largest predatory fish known to Union science was the Tyranno Fin of Nilfeheim, sleek true fish twice the size of an Earth Blue whale, the albino animal that just surfaced next to Egill's submarine was the largest Tyranno and it was sentient. Egill knew the white fish for almost all his life and it was Egill who had given the fish a name and called him Tyr.

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">Egill was the only one on Nilfeheim who knew about Tyr, but there were countless stories and legends about the White Tyranno told by the Nilfeheim fishers and hunters.

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">Egill turned and said in the same soundless telepathic way “And you could use a fraction of your telekinetic powers to help me instead of giving me a lecture.” Egill approached the edge of the small dock at the side of the Pillar. “I am surprised to see you still awake. Long Night has begun.”

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">“You short lived humans have not really noticed that the Longnights slowly grow shorter again, as they have been so long ago. I foresee the time when Longnights are of equal length with Shortsummer. Our rather odd Orbit, caused in part by the fifth planet that is technically a failed sun and its massive gravitational pull, is slowly but surely deteriorating...”

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">Egill held his head. “Don't fill my mind with all those equations, I am not interested I those things and I am not you who hangs around the Union School rock telepathically spying on the kids and their lessons.”

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">“Where else should a simple fish like me gain all the wonderful knowledge about the Universe and the United Stars? Thankfully your off-world brethren is much more interested in in these things than you and this is the reason your kind could bridge the vast distance and invade my peaceful and quite world.” “You are more a God than a Simple anything, and you know that you have to do is reveal yourself to the Union Outpost and they have to resettle and remove every single Viking from this world, if they want or not and this planet is yours again.”

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">“It isn't that simple, and after almost 3000 of your years this is as much their world as it is mine, I am quite content and more so, without you I would not be sentient.”

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">“How can we have anything to do with that? You told me you have been a thinking being long before humans set foot on this planet. If I interpreted your previous statements correctly, you are a thinking entity long before my ancestors discovered fire, back on Planet Earth.” Egill sat down on one of the steel bollards and crossed his arms while he looked at the immense being before him with much affection.

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">Egill, the groceries and everything vanished from sight only to re-appear in the main hall of his small burg, almost 400 meters above the water. Tyr once more demonstrated his vast psionic abilities. The trans location of almost a ton of groceries was no easy feat.

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">“Because some events and some conditions are preordained “ Tyr's mental voice answered Egill's question.”

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">“I am supposed to believe in clairvoyance and throw the runes, and then see the future as this is what a Seer and Wizard supposed to do, but I am no Wizard. However if you say the future is already set then sentience makes no real sense, as it makes no difference what we do, it is already decided.” “Time is not a simple line or stream as you humans think it is, but you are right, the details of what you see as the future are not determined and it is shaped by events and decisions made in the now by the sum of all that is alive, but there is a framework that is part of the RULE. Some causes have effects that must occur and foreseeing those are not clairvoyance.”

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">Egill rummaged through the bags and boxes of his shopping trip and found the bottle of Vodka he was looking for. “So what does this all mean, big fish? Why are you telling me all this? I sense there is a reason for your visit. Not that I am complaining, any reason you find to visit me is a good one.” “I am about to go to sleep, Egill but while I sleep there will be such an event., it is an event important than perhaps no other.”

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">Egill poured himself a generous helping of the clear liquid into a reasonably clean cup and topped it off with Cola. Here inside his burg he didn't have to be too traditional. “Do you want me to wake you when it happens, whatever you think will happen?”

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">“No Egill, you can't reach me in our sleep mountains, but I want you to go to the Olafson Clan and be present when Ilva Ragnarsson delivers her first born and also be there at his naming day.”

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">--””--

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">Gretel almost died, she had missed the Bendixen Burg and had spend several days guiding her little boat over the rough sea. While the boat had a power cube with enough energy to steer that boat at least two times right around the globe, it wasn't very fast, had no cabin and was used to drive short distances over the open water so fishermen could attach air hoses to harpooned Tyranno's and Three Fins. Finding one of the small islands that dotted the otherwise featureless ocean of Nilfeheim was almost impossible without using navigational instruments. She had spend at least six or seven days at sea, cold, hungry and completely dehydrated. She had escaped the wraith of Volund with nothing but the cloth on her back.

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">She had been very lucky that she had been spotted by the School bus flyer pilot. He had brought her to the Union Clinic.

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">There at the Union clinic she found out to her surprise that she had a sister that lived off world. The Med tech had searched for relatives and found Lora and told her how she could make contact.

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">Lora Hemstaad, her oldest sister made it off planet; she managed to get away from the burg almost ten years ago while helping the workers delivering leather and salted fish at the Xchange; and lived now only a few light years away on a planet called Holstein.

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">From the Union post Office at the Space Port she had called her sister and Lora send her the money for a Space Bus ticket.

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">Now she too was on Holstein. Her sister had finished Union School, even served 24 month as a court clerk at the local district court and thus was a full Union Citizen. Lora, just like her the daughter of a Nubhir Scrubber Low men was now the Shift Manager at large local dairy farm and responsible for 200 workers, robots and 20,000 dairy cows. Laura earned 6300 credits every Union Month, owned her own home at the outskirts of Neu Itzehoe, a picturesque town of 300,000 surrounded by rolling hills and meadows full of green grass and light forests.

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">From Laura's veranda there was a wonderful vista across the town and a small space port in the far distance.

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">Laura was dating a local Manure management engineer and had serious plans to marry and get kids.

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">Gretel was still a girl when Laura left and like everyone else in her family thought Laura was dead or working for another Clan family.

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">At first everything was frightening to Gretel, the trip with the space bus, the scrutiny of Union Officers checking her out as she was classified as a Non Citizen and finally seeing her sister that looked more alien to her than the Non Humanoids she had seen in the space bus.

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">Laura did not wear braids but a modern hair cut and instead of linen dress, apron and bare feet. She wore a pantsuit and had her own flyer.

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">All this happened almost a year ago. Gretel too had changed since then, she had gained weight from all the good and seemingly unlimited food and after she was introduced to Virtu Reality she was almost addicted to it.

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">Laura tried to get her into Union School and a young adult class, but Gretel did not like school. Se didn't really like anyone telling her to do things.

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">It was a Wednesday and almost exactly a year since she had arrived and she had herself hooked into Dream Maker and enjoyed the carefree, life of a simulated princess. Just as she wanted to join her Avatar friends at a party. The virtual world flickered out of existence and she found herself on the Dream maker couch and her sister standing by the GalNet terminal. Laura's finger still resting on the shut down sensor. “Gretel, we need to talk.”

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">Gretel blinked. “Could that not wait till later? I was invited to a Bubble tree party.” “No it can't wait. Because I know the horrors and conditions back at Nilfeheim, I let you do whatever you like, but I can't have yo stay in Virtu for the rest of your life. I see you didn't go to school again. How do you plan to become a Union Citizen and get work?” Gretel sat up and glared at her sister. “I don't want to learn useless things about other planets.” “This is not Nilfeheim, Gretel. The Union will provide you with any opportunity and with endless chances to become whatever you want to be, but the Assembly decided long ago that every individual has to work for it. Free loading is simply unfair to all the others that do work.”

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">Gretel clenched her fist. “All I want is revenge and kill Volund, kill that blonde Ragnarsson bitch and make every Olafson pay for what they have done to father and the others and for every Hemstaad who had to work like a slave. I want to be Isegrims's wife and become a Lady of the Clan and make them all do whatever I say. That is what I want, not learn useless things and become the low man slave for another Clan, you call employer.”

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">Laura slowly nodded. “I understand that better than you think,little sister, I too had dreams of revenge, but here I am free. I am a woman and equal to men. All this I have earned on my own. I need not to ask anyone for anything. This freedom and my new life is more important to me than to brood over revenge. Revenge I have to carry back to that cold world of ours with little chance of success.” Laura sighed. “You chose whatever destiny and path you want. I gave you a chance to do the same as I did. Now I am going to sell this house. I have signed a marriage contract with Heinz, my fiancee and we move together. I want kids now and a family of my own.

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">You may change your mind and get on the track of becoming a citizen and a way to support yourself and I will help you with that, or by Sunday you need to find your own way and do what ever you like.”

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">“I will return to Nilfeheim, but not before showing you how grateful I am for what you have done. Let me show you what the Union Post office delivered this morning. You see I did not reject all schooling and learned quite a lot from my GalNet shows.” Gretel revealed a thin spray bottle and released a tiny cloud of liquid right into her sisters face. “It's quite illegal so I was told and the Shaill call it Will Bender. It was quite expensive and I had to use much of your Credit savings, but it is the next best thing to those fabled Psionics and just as effective.”

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">Gretel laughed as she stared in the suddenly blank expression of her sisters face. “This stuff will make me the queen of Nilfeheim.”

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">--””--

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">

<p lang="en-US" style="border-bottom: #000000 1.1pt double; border-left: medium none; padding-bottom: 0.07cm; padding-left: 0cm; padding-right: 0cm; margin-bottom: 0cm; border-top: medium none; border-right: medium none; padding-top: 0cm">4991 OTT

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">Not in the last 500 years did the Olafson Burg look as spectacular as it did now. Gone were the rag like remnants of cloth, replaced by brand new flags in vibrant red. But not only Olafson red furled in the stiff breeze of Longnight wind, there were black flags with the silver falcon of the Ragnarssons. The obvious cracks and patches of crumbling concrete had been filled with expensive Duro Crete or simply hidden behind a decorative banner. A brand new Hydrogen generator hummed happily in the basement right next to the burned out 1000 year old scrap heap of the old one and sent electricity to a thousand lamps or more.

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">Volund caressed over the fine dark red leather he was wearing and found his long fur brimmed cape quite regal. The heavy golden Clan Chief necklace around his neck and his right hand on the hilt of Hefnen, he once again felt pride.

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">He stood by the window of his chambers .This was the second year of this seasons Longnight. Temperatures already dropped to minus 15 degrees during the dim day and an reached minus twenty at night. In another year, the ocean surface around Olafson Rock would be thick enough for a man to walk or drive across to the other burgs in the vicinity. The temperatures were unimportant to the Low men, Bondi and Freemen laboring outside to make the Burg fit to hold a wedding.

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">It was tradition to hold the Wedding at the Grooms home, otherwise they could have already moved to the much bigger and well kept Ragnarsson Burg. But then this Burg was not small and there was ample space for all the guests. Erik Gustav had given him a more than generous advance on the brides dowry. He had never seen such a sum on the read out of his Union bank Account and the two coffers filled with Iridium Coins standing behind him were to pay the local merchants and the workers. After all only Clan Families and members of the free families in town were Union Citizens and had bank accounts. The rest of Nilfeheim still relied on good old fashioned money. His son Isegrim stood in the middle of the court yard, dressed quite similar as his father, but with the addition of a Nubhir Wolf Mask. These masks were tremendously popular among the Neo Viking Warriors, as they gave them a fierce and frightful appearance and the leather and pelt kept their faces warm. In the bright light of the flood lights he was an eerie sight as his breath steamed between the permanently growling fangs of the Nubhir mask and made it almost look alive. There were much cheaper alternatives and until recently the Olafson's were forced to tie a piece of Fangsnapper fur before their faces,. The Ragnarsson Clan had the largest Nubhir Wolfs and the biggest Nubhir Farm. Ragnarsson leather and fur was famous and expensive.

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">Volund watched his son order the workers around and making sure everything was perfect before the actual wedding would take place.

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">Volund turned, took a pitcher set for him on a small ante table by the window and filled his empty tankard with more of the warmed Ale. His eyes fell on a two dee picture image a traveling Image Taker and knife sharpener had made of his wife Grimhild. He raised his drink and said. “I wish you could be around to see all this. Thanks to the upcoming wedding of our son to the oldest daughter of the Ragnarsson clan I could now afford all the beautiful things a Chiefs wife deserves and most of all I now could afford a flyer and take you to the Union Clinic instead of seeing you die in Child labor.” He drank and as always imagined to see that special glitter in her eyes. “Our stubborn first born as seen the fair child of the Ragnarssons and he has forgotten all about everything else. I just wish our beloved Hogun would return. We Olafsons are fast to anger and fast to break all things around us, including the bonds that make a family what it should be.” He was glad that he was all alone in his chambers as tears dropped into his massive beard. “I have never treated you the way you deserved to be treated, and now that you are gone, I miss you and too late I realize how blessed I was. I pray to Odin to give Isegrim the wisdom to not make the mistakes I have made.”

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">With a sigh he took his own Wolf mask and decided to visit the mount of rocks under which he had buried her and the dead born baby girl, that should have been his daughter.

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">--””--

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">Several light hours away from Nilfeheim and beyond the orbit of the systems out most planet, a small ice ball called Hel, with nothing on it but an automated SII – GalNet Repeater and relays station a rugged, boxy looking space ship dropped out of quasi space. All that many space ships made it to Solken System. Other than the occasional freighter and the monthly space bus, there was virtually no traffic. The dull brown ship, of finest Karthanian engineering was certainly not a space bus. Even though this Kartanian built Super Cruiser had freight bays, it wasn't a freighter either.

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">The openly displayed weapon turrets pointing in every direction made it clear, this was a ship of war.

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">While the ship and the openly displayed weapons were perfectly legal, some of the hidden ones were not.

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">The Ship Master of this hulking ship was a massive Pertharian, and the rest of the crew were with few exceptions members of the physically strong and very strong species of the Union. There was a Maggi Sauron, two Oromarls, three Purple Throat Shiss, Four Tripple Strongs and a former Plato Slave and they all had gathered on the bridge of the ship they called the Great Dame, in their midst stood a human, but he was neither the smallest nor the weakest aboard.

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">The Ship Master, a massive four armed Pertharian said to the big human. “We are here, this is Solken System.” And to the Purple Throat Shiss at the Comm Panel the Pertharian Ship Master said.”Go and hail the space port and call for landing instructions and make sure you transmit our transponder codes. I don't want them to call any Navy asset to check us out.”

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">The Shiss did what he was asked and hissed to the Sauron sitting next to him. “That is something we should avoid indeed.”

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">The Pertharian again addressed the human. “Hogun. I sure hate to see you go, you have been a true brother in arms, are you sure you want to leave us? I gladly increase your share, but I have offered that before”

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">The big man had a strange expression on his face as he looked at the planet they approached. “Rathuur, no man could ask for better friends as I have found in the ranks of the Rhatuurs Brigands, but I am going to marry the girl that is waiting for me for so long and then I want to settle down, take over that little Inn she inherited and have some kids. No amount of credits could change my mind.”

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">The Pertharian put one of his arms on the man's shoulder. “I have never met a man more honorable, more dependable or being able to best me in a contest of arm wrestling.” The ship belonging to this famous, barely legal mercenary outfit dipped through the planets atmosphere after it received landing permission.

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">It took Hogun almost an hour to shake all the hands, claws and similar appendixes as he made his way to the landing ramp, but finally he had said his last good byes and shouldered a big Duro Plast box and made his way to the the passenger terminal while the Grand Dame reversed her Arti Grav and climbed back into space. Hogun could not blame them for their haste. While Rathuur's Brigands were a Union Legal Mercenary outfit, with a solid reputation and no Federal Rap sheet, most of the Outfits members did have some kind of criminal record and most of all some of the weapons both the ship and the Mercs used were everything but legal.

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">While the outfit would never do anything that could harm the Union or go against Union interests, ( Having a Pertharian Outfit leader almost guaranteed that) they weren't as law abiding as perhaps they should. Most of the contracts they fulfilled while he was a Rathuur Brigand were targets outside Union Space and laws had little meaning there, some of their jobs could be called acts of Piracy.

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">Hogun turned and raised his eyes to see the ship disappear into the lead gray sky. Then his eyes went across the mountains of snow that had been piled to the sides of the Space port landing field.

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">On the other end stood a huge Meteor Freighter, loading dense packed blocks of ice and snow. The freighter had the Logo of the Silver Hawk Emporium on its side.

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">So rumors were true, the Ragnarsson clan was associated somehow with Silver Hawks Inc. The Company logo and the heraldic hawk of the Ragnarssons were identical. Silver Hawks Inc. was by far not the biggest Company out there, but even he who had spend most of his off planet time in the fringe regions or beyond Union Space had heard of the Silver Hawk Emporium Stores that seemed to spring up at many Space Ports.

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">He grinned and shook his head. “His father Volund would never get the idea to ship worthless snow by the ship load of planet. Not knowing that a shipload of clean water ice would be a sell able commodity on any Desert Planet.

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">Desert Planets far outnumbered Water planets after all and ninety percent of all Union citizen needed water in some form or another. Not the least of it was Space ship fuel.

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">The Space port seemed bigger than it had almost twenty years ago when he had left Nilfeheim, hiding as a stowaway in a much smaller freighter. I was freezing cold, and the wind had a nipping bite to it , but here Gravity was just right, the air tasted wonderful.

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">He reached the terminal and the Customs inspector was a local Freeman without any particular Clan association, Hogun noticed that because the man wore his hair short and his face clean shaven. The Customs inspector wore a laughable Thompson E Blaster in a similar unpractical covered holster, but Hogun was sure the man probably had never reason to pull his sidearm. The man was a Neo Viking and as such not a small person but he had to put his head back to look into Hogun's face and he said. “We usually never get any private ship traffic, so don't mind me asking what kind of business do you have here?” “What business I have on my home planet is none of yours, Freeman. I am a lawful Union Citizen and that is all you need to know. Scan my CITI and be done.” The Customs Officer did and said. “We don't have any Police on Nilfeheim so we like to check who comes, especially in a heavily armed ship and a box full of weapons, but your CITI checks out and the Weapon scan identifies only registered and legal weapons. You do know the local laws about these right?” “I am an Olafson. I was born here.”

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">“Oh an Olafson! Welcome home then. I bet you came for the wedding!” “What wedding?”

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">“Everyone talks about it of course. Isegrim Olafson is marrying Ilva Ragnarsson.”

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">Hogun once again shouldered the box and walked past the man. His enormous right hand clenched into a huge stone hard fist, the man had mentioned his brother's name, Isegrim. The main reason he had left in the first place.

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">Then as he passed into the lobby, he saw her standing there. With her hand demurely folded before a white apron and wearing a traditional blue dress to long flaxen braids, Freydis Bredeberg. His chin dropped. He had sent her a letter via Union Post over three month ago, that he would return and gave her an approximate day of arrival, all that came to is mind was. “How did you know I was coming today?”

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">She smiled the most charming smile and looked at the big man with deep love burning in her eyes. “I came here to wait for you every day, since I got your letter,”

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">He dropped his box and scooped her into his arms.

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">--””--

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm"> As it was ancient tradition the first day of the wedding festivities begun on a Friday to honor the Goddess Freya and make her bless the newlyweds.

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">And what a day it was, the First Keeper of Hasvik himself officiated the ceremony in the great hall of the Olafson Burg, with real Oak tree branches and mistletoe coming from Earth itself decorating the hall. All the Elders were present and so were many Clan Chiefs friend and foe alike. Because it was tradition to open the gates to any honor guest who wished to attend.

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">There was a hushed rumor as the Eldest, the Hermit of Nilfeheim appeared and blessed the couple. He threw the runes and as he foretold a son to be born, both Volund and Erik Gustav almost burst with pride.

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">Volund was not even ashamed of the tears he cried as he embraced Hogun his long lost second born, who also appeared before the gates and requested admission. Hogun, now a grown man was a head taller than the tallest Norse and as massive as only a Olafson would grow, with arms bigger than some of the strongest men's upper thighs.

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">During the festivities he bested them all in challenges of strength and arm wrestling. Hogun put great shame upon the Elhir sons Leif and Arnfinn as he won a challenge of strength against both of them at the same time.

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">Isegrim threw the axes straight and true and cut Ilva's braids.

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">Food and drink was consumed in enormous quantities, the rafters and halls vibrated of the merry laughter and the old songs of the gods and war. There was not a dry eye and not a viking heart touched as Ilva sung the song of Sif to honor her new husband and no one doubted there was a more beautiful woman on all Nilfeheim.

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">It was near midnight o the third day of festivities, most of the guests were more than drunk and the event was reaching its climax. Isegrim had danced the Dance of Axe and Sword with more skill than even Volund hoped for. Ilva skillfully tended to his cuts and bruises and the Elders praising the wedding as a testament to the value and importance of the old traditions.

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">Egill found this a perfect time for him to slip out the door. He liked the food and the drink, but he was a hermit for too long to feel really comfortable around crowds.

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">Many of the guests were already sleeping, or held on to tankards with glassy eyes. Some were still singing, but not as clear and vigorous as they did hours ago.

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">One of the servants helped him into his raggedy looking Fangsnapper coat. However as he went through the door into the bitter cold of Longnight, a man approached him. “It is a long time we have seen each other, Old Egill.” “You should talk, Elkhart. Compared to you I am still as young as a freshly hatched Silver-flicker.”

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">The man with the stringy white beard was Elkhart the first Keeper. Only a handful of beings knew that this old man had been born on Earth and was the Ship Master of the Stockholm Ark. Egill did not know how the man managed to stay alive for almost 3000 years now, but then he himself was now a little over 400 years old and beings of great age were rare but not uncommon. “I am surprised to see you away from your secretive nest underneath Mount Muspeheim.”

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">“And I am surprised to see you, what was it that made you abandon your tall rock? You have never been known to attend festivities.”

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">Egill drew the seams of his cloak closer together. “The Olafsons and the Ragnarsson Clan coming together is a momentous event, these are old clans with much history and cloud.” Then he cursed. “I am to old to freeze my face off and standing around in the cold. You know where I live and you can come by and tell me how things are underneath your mountain and why you have officiated instead of the current First Keeper, risking exposure of your little secret just to officiate in a wedding.”

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">Elkhart appeared immune to the cold, dressed in only a thin cloak , exposing his bare legs. “Yes I think it is time I visit you. Since you have not been at Hasvik for ages. Expect me then in the next weeks to come.”

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">Egill snapped in his usual grumpy and coarse way. “Don't think I will clean just because you decide to visit.” But he added in a softer tone. “There is more to this wedding, is there?”

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">The Ancient Keeper brushed snow out of his beard and raised an eyebrow, “The White One has send you here, so he too sensed the significance and that is why you came.”

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">“You should not be able to read my mind, but yes Tyr has asked me to witness the Union between Isegrim Olafson and Ilva Ragnarsson. I do not why, he tends to be even more cryptic than you.”

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">“I can't read minds as you can Old Grump. I do not have the benefit of a Godlike friend who can bestow such talents, but I am around for a long time and I can see patterns that are invisible to others.”

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">“And you are an Old Liar. I know you are far more than just and old man who forgot to die.” “Perhaps, perhaps not, let us continue this when we meet at your burg. I am already afraid it is worse a pigsty than it was eighty years ago, when I seen it last, but it will be warmer.”

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">“You can stay away if you don't like it.” Egill grunted and stomped slowly down to the Main gate. Then he turned and said. “See you then Old Keeper,and by Odin's name get a thicker coat. I am getting cold just looking at you.”

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">The Old Keeper waved and said. “Have a save journey back to your burg.” Egill turned around one more time and saw the figure of the Old Keeper slowly dissipating just like a ghost becoming insubstantial and then from one eye blink to the other the old keeper was gone.

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">Egill grunted. “Old man my ass, you are about has human as Tyr.”

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">--””--

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">4999 OTT

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">The crumbling walls of Olafson Burg were no longer on his mind, Volund was no the steward of Ragnarsson Rock, Erik Gustav had kept word and had given him unlimited power of all that was Ragnarsson on this world. There were Tanneries in the extensive basements, several Nubhir Farms on the permanent ice of the Southern pole region and a large Fangsnapper herd, but most of all there were five modern and well kept fishing boats and three Hunting subs in the cave like voluminous Submarine Den. Volund was once more doing what he loved best. He commanded the Hunting Subs, harassed the boats of the Clans of the East and returned to the Xchange at Halstaad Fjord with Three Fins and Tyrannos in tow.

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">Life was good and the name Olafson once again spoken with respect at the Xchange Cafe and the Inns.

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">He had just returned from another long trip to the Uhim grounds and decided to have a few tankards at Hogun's Inn. His second born also had married, in a small and far less spectacular ceremony and to a daughter of an eastern clan, no one of the Western Clans really knew much about. Hogun's wife, a Bredeberg however inherited an Inn, her father won in a gambling venture. So now Hogun had become an Inn Keeper and it was clear that this was his true calling. Hogun's Inn became one of the most popular Inns of Halstaad Fjord, not in the least due to the cooking and grilling skills of Hogun and the collection of local and Off World beers and ales he offered.

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">It was the very Inn he had net the old Ragnarsson and where his fortune and the fate of the Olafson clan changed forever.

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">Fights and brawls were a thing of the past, at least in Hogun's Inn. No one in his right mind wanted to make Hogun angry. It did not take long and almost inhuman body strength became the source of many tales and stories.

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">Volund greeted his second born and grabbed his underarm in the traditional greeting. “The hunt was good, my son. Let me celebrate with my men under thy roof and bring good ale and hardy food. The boats are fine indeed but the cooking skills of my men are much to be desired.”

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">While Hogun went into the kitchen to personally fry a few Tyranno Steaks for his father and the boat crew, Pit one of the Freemen working for Hogun served tankards of mead and ale.

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">The mood was merry and the food was good. The hours went on an Oddløg, celebrated for his expert harpooning that killed a Tri Halfer was comfortably drunk as she staggered into the back to relieve himself.

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">While Hogun had spend considerable money to install modern Union grade recycler bathroom stalls and urinals, he had a hard time making the long time patrons using it. The old Vikings much rather went, out in the back as they had done so many times before.

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">During Short Summer it stank horrible, despite the Gong Farmers, Low men paid by the Inn Keepers to remove the disgusting mess left behind. Until recently the Low men had to use pick axes to break the frozen mess from the old Sea Wall that begun right behind the row of Inns and taverns, of which Hogun’s Inn was one.

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">Hogun however paid one of his own employees and to clean a good section every day with a high pressure washer to keep the mess managed and placed big signs everywhere inviting them to use his modern toilets.

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">All this was of no concern to Oddløg, he had pissed against that Sea Wall behind the inn for as long as he could remember and he would do so tonight.

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">He was just about to relieve himself as a movement just out of his field of view made him turn his head. He laughed rough. “Aye the spears and harpoons of Olafson warriors are legendary in size and length, are you ashamed of yours or why are you hide in the shadows ?”

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">A woman of all things stepped into the yellowish light of an age old lumi plate glued to the back of a building. “Oh I remember the Spears of the Olafsons, yours is rather pathetic.”

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">Of course the back of the Inns were frequented by the harlots and prostitutes of the lowest kind. Seeking to earn an Iridium Coin to support their usually fatherless families of Low men living on the outskirts of town.

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">The Circle of Elders tried to prohibit it, but it was an open secret among the Freemen and the Clan born alike.

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">However she didn’t really talk like one. He said. “After I am done you better be gone or I tan your hide, harlot.”

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">“Of course you will and you one eyed bastard don’t even remember who I am.” She raised a small pen like device and something sharp pierced Oddløg’s skin right underneath his chin.

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">She came closer, now he recognized the woman, it was Gretel. She wore a red dress underneath her cloak and said. “What a fitting place for you to die. I had to hide in a barrel of piss to hide from your master, now you going to drown in it.”

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">Oddløg, tried to reach for what stung him, but he could not.

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">Gretel laughed, and said. “Go get him boys, he is all yours.”

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">A gang of ragged looking Low men peeled from the shadows, armed with clubs and pick axes.

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">They would have never dared attacking a Clan Warrior. Oddløg could not even lift a hand, his muscles felt like blubber, as the four low men started to hit him.

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">He could not even yell for help or raise alarm and he fell face first into the the yellow snow and ice and saw his own blood flow and freeze. The last thing he heard was Gretel's cold laugh. “You are only the first.”

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">--””--

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">No one could tell Volund where Oddløg was even after almost a month, no one had seen his right hand man. Now crime and murder were rare but not entirely uncommon. The Olafsons had a fair share of enemies among the Clans of the West and then of course there were the Clans of the East, the Pirates of the Black Clan and there was Oddløg's temper. He never could stay out of a fight, pass a brawl or not get mixed up in a duel. Volund was sure his friend had met his fate, or he would have shown up by now.

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">There was no police or anything like that on Nilfeheim except at the space port but the Space Port security would and could not enforce the law beyond the space port. Volund only noticed Oddløg missing after almost three days, as he had a serious hangover and suspected Oddløg to sleep his of in the bed of a Low men wench.

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">He did call the Union Clinic but Oddløg had not been there and had not been treated recently.

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">Volund felt the loss and was sad that he could not give his friend a decent burial.

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">But then the new burg had many warriors and Volund hoped that wherever Oddløg found his fate, he did it fighting and would be welcomed at the table of the Aseir.

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">What distraught him more were the reports that his son was no longer spending much time with Ilva but was seen almost daily flying to town and return late.

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">That a man of his strength had a few concubines on the side was understandable, even though it was neither traditional nor proper. Volund himself had cheated a few times on his beloved wife while she was alive, a fact he regretted now.

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">But the good news were that Ilva was now pregnant, and Hogun's wife who also was a midwife told him the good news, after nature took his course and in about eight month there would be twins and if the midwife was right, one of the twins would be a boy.

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">He had just returned from Halstaad Fjord, talking to Hogun and friends hoping he would hear news of Oddløg being simply sick or still drunk or perhaps nursing the bruises of a fight he lost, but no one had heard or seen him.

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">Going to town use do be a long trip with an ice skimmer boat, but the Ragnarsson burg came with three expensive Arti Grav Skimmers and he loved using the expensive and luxurious Volvo. As he landed he noticed the big GM skimmer Isegrim more or less had made his own.

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">He also saw a gray dressed man, he had seen around before. He did not wear any Clan colors at all, but Volund remembered seeing the man several times in the company of Isegrim.

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">“Servant speak quick have you seen my son?”

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">“Aye Sire, he is down at the Submarine Den, most likely using the bunk of the lead boat with his guest.”

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">“What guest?” The man had a pointed nose and his dark eyes gleamed with a strange fire he said. “Lord Volund, do not let me be the bearer of such news. I spoke to much already”

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">“Tell me!”

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">“A woman that is not his wife. Her name is Gretel Hemstaad.”

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">Volund actually grabbed the man by the collar. “It cannot be! Tell me all you know or die!”

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">“Unhand me Sir., I am by command thy servant, not thy slave. Your son is bedding a woman that is not his wife and he does it right here on the burg for many days now. He is using the bunks in the fishing boats, but everyone knows.”

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">In his anger, he still noticed that there was something eerie familiar about the man he assumed was a servant of the Ragnarssons. Volund let the man go, cold anger knotting his stomach. “Does Ilva know”

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">“She is pregnant and I doubt anyone had the heart to tell her, Sire.”

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">Then he almost whispered. “Does Erik Gustav know?” “You are the steward, of this rock but it is the Burg of Ragnarsson. Little happens between this walls that is eventually carried to his ears, but for now he is far away.”

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">Volund stomped towards the stair house and the long flight of steps that led down to the Submarine den. “Let us end this madness, before he returns and hears about it. Bring a weapon and tell my thy name. “I am Harkun, Sire.” Again there was a very odd expression on the strange man. Volund was to much angered to ask more questions.

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">Volund did not want to go back to his crumbling burg,he had tasted the power and the wealth of Ragnarsson. He also remembered the oaths and the promises taken. Isegrim had sworn in the presence of the Elders to honor and cherish his bride and be as true as Balder himself. Oaths and promise done upon the Spear of Odin in front of all the Elders were perhaps the most sacred custom of all Nilfeheim. If word came before the Elders, or Erik Gustav all that was won could be lost.

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">The flight of stairs was long and steep. Steps made of Duro Crete wound down to Sea level, almost 200 meters.

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">And he did make it to the last landing, as he saw Isegrim standing there at the bottom of the stairs, “By Odin where is the Wench?! She escaped the sword somehow the last time but by the Gods she will not see the light of day again and you son will learn that you are not to old to feel my hand like you never felt it before.”

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">Isegrim simply laughed. “I am soon the Lord of the Clan. Your time has come old man, I won't be a mere steward, I will be master. She is not here and this is a trap we set for you.”

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">Someone pushed Volund with great force from behind and he lost the footing, only now did he notice the shimmering fat smeared over the next steps, there was nothing to hold on, no hand rail. He fell and tumbled down the stairs, Isegrim stepping aside to kick his father, who had survived the stumble more stunned than truly hurt, but like a mad man Isegrim did not let up and kept kicking his father, while the blonde woman laughed and cheered him on.

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">The person who had pushed him came into Volund's view, it was the tall gray dressed man., holding a hammer of war. “I am Harkun, father. Born in wedlock to a Free woman you knew as Hildigunn. A woman you raped. I am a bastard aye, but I am your son.

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">The stranger brought down the hammer in a bone crushing blow onto Volund's legs.”My mother shunned by her family and shamed killed herself!” Another blow, Volund groaned in mind numbing pain. “Not like this! I want to fight!”

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">Isegrim uncoiled a steel cable. “Remember the whip father? I had this made especially for you and carried it for this day. We know you would come and waited for you.”

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">The Whip snapped across Volund's raised arms.

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">Harkun brought down the Hammer again.”You die by the hands of your Sons. Beaten to death like a mangy Nubhir wolf.”

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">The next blow broke Volund's skull and the Clan chief of the Olafsons died with a wet gargling sound. Isegrim clasped Harkun's arm. “I am Clan chief now and as soon as my bear betrothed wife gives me the son she bears, I kill her and the child and inherit it all. Then my brother I marry the one I truly love and you will be raised to prominence and I give you the Olafson Burg that is no vacant and much of Ragnarsson riches for your own Clan to rise.” “We shed the blood of our Sire together, brother. I will serve you and be your Man servant for no one shall know my heritage, until that day you make true of your word.”

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">Isegrim uncorked a bug bottle of ale and poured a generous helping over the bloody heap that was once was his own father. “He really should have been more careful on those slippery stairs while drinking all this Ale.”

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">---””---

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">The news of Volund's dead traveled fast, two Elders did arrive an entire day later. Examined the body and the stairs. Noticed the broken bottle and the strong smell of Ale and aquavit and declared the death a tragic accident and confirmed that Isegrim indeed was the new Clan Chief of the Olafson Clan.

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">This part of Isegrims's plan went well and he did act like a grieving son should, but the rest did not go as planned. The Elders confirmed that Volund and Erik Gustav did make a witnessed contract to make the yet unborn son the heir of it all and the contract also only named Volund as the steward and made no mention of Isegrim. All bank accounts were closed to him and the Ragnarsson Warriors,freemen and Servants refused to obey his commands until the situation was settled.

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">Erik Gustav Ragnarsson himself was already on his way to be present at the birth of his grand children. He was informed about the accident and sent message he would take matters in hand as soon as he arrived.

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">As he wanted to visit his pregnant wife,he noticed two big Ragnarsson Warriors Reinhold and Orkning standing outside his wives chambers, each of them resting their gloved fists on large swords and wearing full Warriors dress. Both men were known to be among the finest Swords men second perhaps only to Erik Gustav himself.

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">Isegrim growled at them “What is this? I have not ordered any guards, remove thyself. These are my wife's chambers and these premises are the realm of the Clan Chief alone. Now begone!”

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">Reinhold's fist made a gnarling sound as it slowly gripped the hilt. “Oh aye, Isegrim of the Olafsons this is indeed the Realm of the Clan Chief but is not thine. The true lord of this burg may command us, until he declares you the steward, thy commands are not mine to obey.”

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">Orkning moved his hand over the hilt as well. “You can of course seek dominion and lordship over us the Viking way and challenge us. Oh aye Isegrim fight one of us and succeed and the rest of Ragnarsson folk will follow you.”

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">Isegrim was strong, but never really practiced the old skills, he was a decent harpooner and he gained skill with the Cable whip he loved, but deep down and past all his bluster and bravado he was coward and snorted, “It is good my wife's Chambers are guarded after all and Erik Gustav is only days away. “ Isegrim leaned forward and said. “I will be master of this burg and then your fate will change.”

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">“We are Free Warriors Isegrim we can chose and decide to challenge you at any time. Rest assured our step is surefooted and you won't find us on slippery stairs.” Isegrim clenched his fists and passed the two warriors and entered Ilva's chambers.

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">He had to admit even pregnant she was a beauty of no compare. Somewhere deep down he wondered himself why he was drawn to Gretel. The Nubhir herder's daughter had returned and was even more voluptuous than before. She was vulgar and had an abrasive demanding character. Ilva on the other hand was gentle and loving and always proper.

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">Gretel had been gone for years then a letter reached him, perfumed and on real paper wanting to meet him at the Space port. He went perhaps more out of curiosity and as he saw her and after a drink they had together he realized he was still deeply and madly in love with Gretel. At least this was how he described this burning desire to to do what Gretel wanted, it had to be love. Nothing else made a man act like such a fool.

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">He told Ilva his version of the events and she condoled him by embracing him in her soft arms, believing every word he lied to her.

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">In he arms he even more felt confused about his strange attraction to Gretel..

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">He caressed Ilva's golden hair. It was soft and had a shine of gold. Gretel's hair did not feel like this and it had the color of dirty straw. “Say my beloved wife, how are things with you then? Do you feel well?”

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">“Quite so Isegrim, the babies are doing fine. Your brother's wife is a good midwife and I did see the Union Doctor too.” “How long do you think?”

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">“The doctor thinks it will be late October and Freydis thinks it is due early October. So I thin it will happen right in the middle.”

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">It was August already and, only two maybe three month at most. When his Son was born and had his naming day, he inherited everything according to the pact Volund and Erik Gustav made.

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">So all he had to do was kill his son and by default inherit it all.

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">Of course he had to kill Ilva too but that is what Gretel wanted anyway and then she could move to the Burg and be his wife.

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">-””--

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">

<p lang="en-US">October 7th, 4999.

<p lang="en-US">

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">--””--

<p lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0cm">

<p lang="en-US">

<p lang="en-US">

<p lang="en-US">

<p lang="en-US" style="border-bottom: #000000 1.1pt double; border-left: medium none; padding-bottom: 0.07cm; padding-left: 0cm; padding-right: 0cm; border-top: medium none; border-right: medium none; padding-top: 0cm">