Gone Viking:
1 Boarding The Longship
Wait. Wait at the water's edge. Wait at dawn. Shiver in the damp mists from the wide slow river. Why?
Adventure awaits! Or oblivion. Or Madness! Murder, glory and exhilaration! Riches! Sweat, pain and sickness. Companionship, comrades, devotion, and treachery!
Moments sublime, and terrifying. Deeds to be sung in the great Halls! Deeds, never to be acknowledged as they dishonor you.
Your feet are wet, soaked through from the muck of the riverbank. Your ass is damp from the mossy log you sit on. You wait.
You eagerly look for what you hope you see. As promised! You fear what you will see. As promised. You suspect, oh faithless one, that you will see NOTHING. The promise is a lie β an illusion, the ravings of a faltering mind.
You hear... before you see. The waters of the river lapping against... something? Wood? Driftwood? The pilings of the dock? The sides of a ship? Then the horn; ancient, foreboding, a warning, a call to actions. The horn requires a response. "I am here!
The horn is silent. Soon, another sound. The grounding of an oaken keel on the gravel of the riverside. Still nothing to see. Is this all still a dream?
"Come here!" a voice from the river; a young man. But you hear and understand a language you don't know but DO know. Ancient tongue. Echoes from YOUR past.
Still nothing to see. A torch! A torch flares nearby. You can see. The young manβ tall, lean, sunburned. Blonde. A thin hint of beard on his cheeks and chin. Bareheaded, his shoulder length is bound by a strip of raw hide behind. His gray linen tunic and breeches, make him almost fade into the morning gray. Is he really there?
He is above you! So, there is a ship! Smaller than imagined. And no dragon heads.