Ragnar Lodbrok strode forth from the snowy wastes to the shore of a great sea. Scanning the coastline, he envisioned Trading Post-enhanced Galleys plying the waves, disgorging Berserkers on his hapless foes. Wild game wandered the forests and sturdy building materials studded the hills. For the frigid globe the Vikings found themselves on, this balmy cove was a veritable paradise.
A few shouted orders, and Nidaros was founded in 18,000 B.C.:
Those first years were harsh, but the Vikings were a hardy people, and they persevered. Workers were trained to brave the biting cold and tame the surrounding wilderness.
Our Scouts struck south, confirming that we are likely in what will one day be called France by their accounts of the Iberian landbridge. Their tales of Ice Cows (yes, Ice with a Cows improvement!) were told and retold in the Nidaros longhouse. More importantly, they found a clan of nomadic mystics who laid out a cosmology known as The Great Wheel:
The practical Viking scouts nodded sagely and completely missed the point, applying the concept of the wheel to roadbuilding. The natives protested, but they were butchered and their huts were burned to the ground before they got a chance to clarify their beliefs.
Farther south, in modern-day Gibraltar, an ice queen constructed a gleaming empire of crystal:
Ragnar would bed her, oh yes, but first he had to see to his people.
The Viking scouts turned back north and east, where they found the English in the proto-Aegean:
Ragnar would pass on bedding Victoria.
Farther afield, there were more conquests to be made, and more loot to be sent back to Nidaros:
You can also see the edges of Roosevelt's territory to the north. Roosevelt was an odd fellow, sitting in an office lined with books, despite his lack of Literature, Paper, or even Writing. Ragnar promised him peace, though he greedily eyed the American's defenses.
The Scouts met a grisly end a few years later:
With our roving eyes closed forever, the Barbarian darkness seemed to close in about the tiny settlement of Nidaros. Sages spoke of a talisman known as the Great Wall, which could ward off evil. Ragnar prayed that his people could hold out long enough to construct such a thing.
Feeling watched from the forest, the wise men strove ever harder to research new weapons, pushing themselves beyond normal human limits out of sheer adrenaline:
Bronze Working was finished, but, when the people frantically cast about the city, there was no precious Copper to be found.
Sensing Ragnar's desperation, the People of the Woods boiled forth, shouting war whoops in anticipation of an easy kill:
The proto-berserkers garrisoning the village fought well, slaying Barbarian Warriors with abandon. Unfortunately, the second wave could attack from afar, causing it to rain death instead of life-giving water.
In 16,900 B.C., the furious assault proved too much:
... Well, crap. I went Mining-Bronze Working-Masonry, and Worker-Warrior-Settler in the capital. Maybe the Settler was a mistake, but I wouldn't have been able to get more than a single extra Warrior out, and he would have been overwhelmed quickly (another two Archers appeared on that last turn). I don't see any choice but to go Archery first, and even that doesn't seem like a sure thing. Maybe Raging Barbs was a mistake. I dunno. I lost fair and square. Bummer. So what now?
