Fragment 17-03-2013 add on

4996 OTT

 The crumbling walls of Olafson Burg were no longer on his mind, Volund was no the steward of Ragnarsson Rock, Erik Gutsav 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.

 Life was good and the name Olafson once again spoken with respect at the Xchange Cafe and the Inns.

 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.

 It was the very Inn he had net the old Ragnarsson and where his fortune and the fate of the Olafson clan changed forever.

 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.

 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 to be desired.”

 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.

 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 compfortly drunk as she staggered into the back to relieve himself.

 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.

 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.

 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.

 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.

 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 ?”

 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.”

 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.

 The Circle of Elders thad tried to prohibit it, but it was an open secret among the Freemen and the Clan born alike.

<p style="margin-top:0px;margin-bottom:0px;font-size:12px;line-height:normal;font-family:Helvetica;"> 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 style="margin-top:0px;margin-bottom:0px;font-size:12px;line-height:normal;font-family:Helvetica;"> “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 style="margin-top:0px;margin-bottom:0px;font-size:12px;line-height:normal;font-family:Helvetica;"> 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.”