I had seen our King growling and hefting his weapon in his sleep, and I warned the others to stay clear of his chambers. He yelled obscenities at the gods, and he screamed threats to the sky.
When he awoke, we told him of the Ice choking New Elona. He was not surprised - rather, more contemptuous than anything. Unfortunately, as was necessary, the expedition to the Isle of Elona was delayed, for our ships could not navigate the frozen waters.
I do not know how long he stayed, but our King did not stay in Nidaros long. He marched to Lisbon, to finish the war.
Meanwhile, we found ourselves swamped with messengers from the many kingdoms we had met. It seems as if the Carthaginian God, Runner, has gained favor everywhere but here.
We have adopted the Eldar Religion here as our patron faith - Ragnar says that we will not abandon those that help us, and we will not serve those who harm us. According to him, Runner sends great beasts to punish us, but our troops rally and the beasts are defeated.
Our statue to him, our Lord Eldarion, is completed, as well as a Shrine in his name where all Eldar faithful can gather and praise him.
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The bar shuddered once again, and Joao looked to one of his advisors worriedly. But it was no use; the Palace was surrounded, and despite valiant efforts by his new Longbowmen, the Berserkers were a force that he could not hope to battle.
The bar shook, and crack on the court doors revealed itself. A muffled yell was heard, and then a very commanding "Move aside!". There was a moment of silence, and then a sickening crack. Not only did the bar snap clean, but one of the doors ripped off its hinges, the Viking King standing in his full glory. Two berserkers rushed in beside him, and tore into the the Portugeuse line, as Ragnar lifted the axe high above his head, leaping up and bringing the blade down with the force of ten men. In one marble-shattering instant the floor itself collapsed in, a score of swordsmen found themselves falling into the catacombs, jagged bits of rock being the only thing to break their fall. In five seconds, Joao was alone with Ragnar.
"You barbarian!"
"Silence, fool! Do you not know when you have lost!?"
Joao smirked, and then leaped forward, a dagger sliding from within his robes. Quick. Too Quick. The blade buried itself in Ragnar's gut, and Joao ripped it free victoriously.
But Ragnar did not budge. Joao blinked incredelously, and had time only to drop his weapon and take one horrified step back before the Viking caught hold of his arm. Sliding one foot back to anchor himself, the warrior-king pulled, and the Portugeuse King learned how to fly.
Like a Jackhammer Joao plowed through the wall, and he didn't even have a moment to whimper before the king leaped through after him, bringing the butt of his Axe down on the King's face, smashing his nose. Blood spattered all over the regal outfit, but Ragnar gripped his now stained shirt and hefted him to his feet. Taking two more steps towards the hallway's unshattered wall, Ragnar proceeded to imprint the king's form on the decorative stone wall as he slammed the ragdoll form of Joao into the wall. Tossing the king to the floor, he raised his metal boot and promptly shattered his right knee with a single stomp.
Joao screamed, and screamed, and screamed. He begged, he wept, and he whimpered.
Ragnar looked down on the poor fool, and squinted. "You are going to war with Catherine. You have one year to gather your troops at Uppsala. I will return Coimbra, Lisbon, and Oporto to your troops, but understand one thing."
His eyes filled with tears, the King reduced his noise to a whimper, and payed rapt attention to Ragnar.
"You are mine."
And with that, the Viking left. He knew his Berserkers would serve enough as a reminder. That, of course, and the pain which he doubted would ever go away.
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The war with Russia goes well. With the aid of Portgual we have pressed deep into their territory, indeed even capturing Moscow. But the heathen Hannibal has lept to their defense, and now our King Ragnar fears that we may be caught up in a religious war - and that the only choice now is to convince the other nations that it is not in their best interest to fight us.
I have seen our King negotiate, and I assure you, he can be quite persuasive.
World Recap:
And, my vassal has a settlement on this ice path of yours!
Ragnar you have flouted my commands by being at war with Carthage. Be plagued for the rest of your span of years with endless pirates of the enemy.
Nevveeerrrr!
