After Ragnarok

Chapter 7 coming...
Tommorow, just didn't have enough time to work on the story tonight.
 
Chapter 7: Wherein The True King is Declared, and Uppsala founded.​
Frey’s eyes cast about the Throne Room, darting from place to place like flies. His normal mood had been replaced by a very fragile one, and even the slightest breeze could have 3 advisors being executed for “Heresy”. All the surviving Advisors just nodded along, with whatever their Mad King said, all wishing for Odin to interfere, or for Erik to return from Valhalla, or for some angry Danish slave to come in and shorten his height by a head. But they all knew that it wasn’t going to happen, because, as Frey reminded them every ten seconds, he had a large part to play in New Midgard.
As if someone like him could ever be important to any cause. Harald thought as Frey went off on some rant about how unruly the Danes were being, or it might have been about the sudden disappearance of the Swedish from Nidaros, to be honest, none were paying attention.
What no one understands, Harald thought. Is the frustration felt by mixed blood Vi-kings. I’m half Danish myself, so it’s only the fact that I’m half Norse that kept me from being enslaved. Does Frey realize that? Does he realize how I’m suddenly alienated, how I had to hide all my Danish relatives in my small estate as slaves?
Frey continued on and on and on about the riots, not that he knew that they had been over for many moons, or that the Swedish were planning to rescind their recognition of King Frey and say that the True King was their leader, Yngvild. But Harald’s red beard hid a great smile at the idea of many Vi-Kings, a whole race of them, separating from the official government, they still may be Vi-Kings, but they answer to a different King. His blue eyes twinkled despite themselves, as the light captured the joy perfectly, for all to see, including of course King Frey. Upon realizing his blunder, Harald altered his expression, to fit in with the crowd of nods.

“I don’t like this at all.” Said Yngvild. “I mean put a dress on a cow, and it’s still a cow, how will me being ‘King of the Swedes’ alter anything about our situation?”
The one-eyed attendant sighed at this remark, silently wishing that he hadn’t chosen Yngvild to carry out this part of history, but also silently acknowledging that he was the only one who could do it.
“I explained this to you many times Yngvild,” The attendant said condescendingly. “The only difference between the cattle in the Pasture, and the men in the City, is that you can use the cow for more things. They all flock towards power, and having a title like King will only help you in that regard. This is the only way that you can make a Tangible difference in many lives.”
“I acknowledge that it’s our best option, I just don’t like it.” said Yngvild.
“You don’t have to like it, you just have to play your part, okay?” replied the attendant.
Then Yngvild was taken towards where his hall was being established, in the middle of an all-Swedish community in the making called Uppsala. He walked nervously towards the ‘podium’ really just a mini-stone like those that were used in Stonehenge. He looked over the mostly blonde crowd of faces all over the square. Then he opened his mouth, and history was made.
“Swedes, and those few Danes here today, I bid you greetings.” Started Yngvild. “Recently, Frey has announced the slavery policy, which essentially announced his loyalties to us all. He chose to side as a Norseman, rather than as the leader of all Scandinavians. With that simple announcement, he had lost our recognition of him as King. I want to go a little further than just separating. I propose that we, as the Swedes and Danes, say that King Rigg, bless his soul in these trying times, had no Heir. That we have decided that all of the Swedes and some of the Danes had chosen a New King.”
“Well who will be our King?” asked one of the Danes, very obviously nervous.
“I would propose that you all decide who should lead you all” Said Yngvild, egging them on.
The crowds orderly silence dissolved into many voices, which slowly faded into a chant led by the masses.
“You!” they shouted. “Yngvild, you should be our King!!!”
“If that’s what you think, then that is what we’ll do.”

It had taken many years to recover from the mistake that had been made early. Odin reflected. Just a simple mistake of the wrong man had almost destroyed the Universe. Yes the one that he had called Frey had much energy, but he hadn’t the demeanor that Frey had. It was Yngvild who was the closest to Frey, and it was Yngvild who would fight Surtr. Of course, Odin knew that he was letting down Rigg, but that didn’t matter as much as the fate of New Midgard. He sighed as he looked over the future plans, hoping that he didn’t make any other mistakes.

Surtr was displeased with his tribe, and hoped to meet his enemy on his battlefield at Uppsala soon, for he didn’t know how long he could take this tribal lifestyle.
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I agree, it can be. I just use the basic civ 4 screenshot mechanic, much easier.
 
It's just that they are all on a website already. That helps, but still, it's kinda easy to mess up.
 
This will be updated!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!


Tomorrow!
 
Yoohoo!
 
LucarioTheKing said:
This will be updated!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!


Tomorrow!
Click to expand...

It's not tommorow yet, but I have the next chapter, so...
YOU CAN HAZ UPDATE
Chapter 8: Wherein the Sedish Royalty Starts their Reaction.​
Harald looked down upon his malnourished body, and saw that which used to be great, but it had been robbed from him. There had been no Jury, no trial, just the cold blue eyes of Frey who decided his fate. It was strange, Harald barely remembered what the charge was against him, he thought that it was just some excuse to ‘purge’ the hall of all half-Danes or Swedes. Of course, he was thinking of his childhood, rather than the wasted years of his adulthood. The summers that were full of brilliant colours, his mother, so full of life, his sisters, who would surround him as they all played the same game. His older brother, the warm, reassuring smile, the decidedly Danish look about him, his cold-blooded murder by some Norsemen. Then, his expanded education, his quick learning, and promotion to Advisor of Rigg. Then Rigg’s death, and the nightmare started.
Of course, as Harald dragged for all to see, his still sharp eyes noticed three blond haired men trying to hide from the Norse. These men were so obviously of the Eastern Swedes, that humble look that did not betray the inner confidence they held. The one was known as the second in command, Gustav. He was the one who had worked with Frey when they were constructing Stonehenge, the second was a One-Eyed, One-handed man with a decidedly savage look about him, whoever he was, Harald had not heard of one like him, and the mystery was intriguing. But the last was the interesting one, he was completely clean-shaven, which in and of itself was an oddity, but it was the headpiece that he wore that sealed his identity, it was a simple crown hammered out of Uppsalan Bronze, no jewels in it at all. These three men were very clearly an official delegation from the Kingdom of Uppsala, or, they might be sent on some mission, but why with their king in tow?
One Eye moved quickly towards the headsman's block, though it was so quick that none noticed, meanwhile Gustav readied a bow, and the King Yngvild grabbed a small spear. Harald heard a great noise, which grabbed the attention of all, but the men. It was very clearly One-eye who had set up that noise, but Harald didn’t understand what was happening.
It all became obvious when the spear hit it’s mark, the executioner. It was surely a good throw, as it carried with such momentum so as to plant the servant of Frey into the nearest wall. The man that Harald thought was Yngvild looked both proud, and horrified at what he had done. The came the arrows. Launched one volley at a time, but every arrow hit their mark, some slave owner in the crowd of mostly slaves. One Eye was suddenly behind Harald. He started to undo the shackles around his feet, and in a flash he was done. But Harald wasn’t paying attention to that, what he was paying attention to was what Yngvild was doing.
Somehow in all the confusion, Yngvild had broken into the One armory that Nidaros had, and had the freed slaves all taking a weapon. It was hard to tell from the platform that Harald was on, but it looked like the reddish flash of bronze that each man held was a war axe, like the weapon that Ragnar had favoured.
“Great, just great.” Muttered One Eye. “This is a great idea in principle, as Surtr has his Surtrians, and the battlefield, but still, this might have been easier done at some later date.”
“What are you talking about?” inquired Harald. “I was scheduled for execution today, in fact, we were in the middle of that when you interrupted.”
“We knew that,” said One Eye with the authority of someone who was used to getting his way. “It was why we chose today of all days to make our move, of all the damned days we had.”
“What do you mean by that stranger?”
“Nothing that matters, at least not yet. Just go and grab an axe, and the go to the Palace Square.”
“Why?”
“Because everything will become clear then.”

A note from the Translator: Now you, as a reader may be confused, and that is understandable. After all, when the Archivists found this part of The Epic of Yngvild they were confused as well. But we then found it that it was Harald’s way to show his involvement in the historical battle. When we found the next chapter it all was strung together.
 
Chapter 9: Wherein the plot of the Swedes is fully revealed.​
Frey was unhappy with the world. His icy blue stare went directly towards the sun, as if to say Stop Being Bright. His graying hair was just as fierce as ever, and added an unusual intimidation factor. The One and a Half advisors left, as one had no head, were just barely people, and more like a gadget to him. The lavish throne room was in no way like it was back when his father had founded the city and made the hall, as gold and jewels were like dirt in this room. No fewer than 100 guards were stationed at various positions in and around the throne room, which was just a fraction of the amount that were holding the rest of the Norse sector.
Standing in front of Frey was an ambassador of some foreign land called Carthage, not that he cared about their name, for in the end, all would pale before him, the living God. But it troubled him in a way that he wouldn’t admit ever existed, first the English, and now these fools. Why did the Norns want him to face all these foes down? And which of them was Surtr? That was the extent of his cares though.
The Ambassador from Carthage left, though Frey barely even noticed him, more concerned about something else. So he opened up a vat of ale to relax. He forgot what that thing was after the twelfth mu. He forgot where he was after the twentieth, and who he was by the thirty-third. However, at the forty-fifth, Frey forgot something even more important, he forgot how to breathe.

However, Yngvild didn’t know that his sworn enemy was lying, drowned in a vat of mead. In fact, even now, he was planning his revenge.
“Harald Bluetooth, sire.” said the trembling man at his feet. “Former advisor to King Frey of the Raven Halls.’
That was right, at least, it should have been according to Tyr. But, he wanted to know about Harald’s sudden drop from the favor of Frey, and why he was to be executed. He also secretly wanted to know if he would be the other man who sought revenge as deeply as he did.
“I have heard of you, Harald.” Yngvild replied. “For you are a great and noble man, who is strong in battle. For we have special need of you men who can fight and command.”
“But why? None have challenged your right to rule, so why get an army?” Harald asked.
Yngvild had wished it was that simple, and he would have gladly swapped places with the Raven King, as Frey had taken to call himself, if he could. That one question was like a battering ram, opening up a flood of memories from months ago…

The hunting trip was unimportant, in the moment, but in the long run of things Yngvild would be thankful for it. Tyr and Gustav followed behind him on trained riding horses, a rarity in the Scandinavian lands, but not so uncommon to cause issues. The City had just completed a set of walls, and looking behind at the little wooden houses that the city was primarily composed of, the last thought on any of their minds was that it would be good kindling. Their backs were turned, and they didn’t notice the bronze gleam of soldier’s helmets
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They didn’t notice anything as they fell a boar and still as they walked at an orderly pace towards Uppsala, but they did notice the screams. Then the smoke, which formed into a man of pure fire, who stomped through Uppsala, bringing naught but death, and uncaring fire to all.
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They ran then, ran towards Nidaros, ran towards the city of the enemy, hoping to gain an army to free the Swedes of Uppsala.
Author’s Note: That was just me being stupid… But, hey, at least it makes for a good story!
“Are you alright sire?” asked Harald, who obviously had no idea of what had happened.
“I’m fine, just fine.” replied Yngvild. “So, Harald, to being my General?”
“It would be my honor.”
“Good! Your first task is to lead these men to the Palace, and to sack it.”
“Why?”
“Because.”
Just as Harald was about to reply, a man, no, a Celt came into the square.
“Hear ye, Hear ye!” Said the Celtic Man. “I am hear to spread word of a most… unfortunate passing. For tonight, the King has died, drowned in his own mead.”
That announcement rippled like a shockwave through the army, and it wasn’t long before cheering was all that one could hear. Yngvild’s reaction was a mixture of joy, and contempt, for his enemy had died, but not by his hands. There was no time for Yngvild to feel anything, as now was the time to put the next step into action.
“Follow me men!” Barked Yngvild. “We march now to the Castle. Let’s use this fortunate tiding to claim Scandinavia!!!”
The men marched, and the sharp clangs of metal was heard by all, the gleam of bronze seen by all, and the feeling of occupation felt by all. The local garrison was hiding in fear of the massive force, and Yngvild crown gleamed with a reddish tint, making it clear the intentions of the army.
The Allfather decided that now was a good time to leave this company, and to leave the world to it’s fate, confidant that it would ally work out in the end.
That night, the new king was crowned, the slavery act was reversed, all the Norse were the slaves of the Swedes and Danes, for thirteen years, after that they were free. And Surtr grimly prepared for the battle of his life.
“And so it has come to pass, the ultimate battle will come, Yngvild. Mark my words.”
Surtr then went back to his preparations, and the world was silent, but the crackle of the fires.
 
I thought the swedes were the norse's slaves. Because the swedes were workers which is a job no one wanted.
 
clanky4 said:
I thought the swedes were the norse's slaves. Because the swedes were workers which is a job no one wanted.
Click to expand...

My whole overarching idea with this storyline was to cover this series of events that seemed to flow together well enough. The story was just something that I thought that more historically exploited populates should do. If you are gonna be enslaved by others for something that you can't control, at least fight back, make a kingdom, do something.
 
Update coming soon!

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No time Guaranteed, By soon, I mean my definition not your misguided one.
 
Time is relative.
 
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