A Land of Wine, Pagans, and Blood - A Vinland Survival Time Line.

Sadly, it is inevitable that christianity will eventually come to dominate this Vinland, or at least a good chunk of it. Eventually, is the key word though.

I don't think it's really sad though, with the change you can do many things write wise and the faith's development that could happen other than just plain old Odin and co
 
Maybe they come to care more about the Vanir, about Freya, Frey, and Njordr.
After all, those are the ones most tied to prosperity, trade, fertility, fish, exploration, and similar such things.
 
Chicago portage

Sounds like Thorness - and his buddies - traversed the ancient (canoe era) Chicago Portage. The portage climbs 140 feet from Lake Michigan to the head waters of the Mississippi River. The Chicago Portage is only about 40 miles long. Since the Industrial Revolution, the portage has been replaced by the Chicago Sanitation and Shipping Canal started during the 1840s and last upgraded during the early 20-th century.
 
Sounds like Thorness - and his buddies - traversed the ancient (canoe era) Chicago Portage. The portage climbs 140 feet from Lake Michigan to the head waters of the Mississippi River. The Chicago Portage is only about 40 miles long. Since the Industrial Revolution, the portage has been replaced by the Chicago Sanitation and Shipping Canal started during the 1840s and last upgraded during the early 20-th century.

Nah, I think he portaged into a tributary of the Ohio river
 
And finally, without further ado, the last section of Part Four: Twilight of the Thunder God



The following morning dawned with a thick blanket of clouds covering the sky as far as the eye could see. The air was still and humid, and hot. Sweat poured as they rowed down the sluggish, muddy river. Both banks were lined with fields growing strange crops, crisscrossed with dirt paths and a few tiny coppices of hardwoods. Men and women toiling in the fields stopped and stared as their ship glided past.

Another large bend in the river appeared and settlement loomed ahead.

“It’s a city.” The man on watch cried out. Thor rushed to the bow, grinning.

Indeed it was a city. A very large city built of low mud and wood houses clustered together around the base of low earthen hills. As the ship drew closer in, they realized these hills – mounds – were actually pyramidal in shape and likely human built. A vast, if primitive city, had finally been found.

Thor crossed his arms. “I think this could be the place we have been searching for.”

“Our fortune and glory?” Vali asked, forcing a smile. He wiped his nose on the back of his sweaty sleeve. “Gods it’s hot here.”

“Muggy.” Thor spat over the side of the ship. “Suite up men. Leather and mail. Helm and shield. Spear and axe. The works. We need to impress these simpletons.”

The men did as bidden, as Thor worked to guide the ship into a shallow bay off the main channel. The bay ended in a sandy landing filled with canoes and rafts. There brown skinned men with dark hair worked to unload baskets and bundles from their boats; trade and bartering ceased as their ship glided in close.

A large group of ornately dressed men and a few women were gathering above the landing. Behind them stood a fist of warriors and even more peasants.

“I see we are expected.” Thor said, tucking his axe under his belt. He picked up his war hammer as the ship slid to a halt on the sand. Silence. “Remember men, we are guests here. Let’s make a good first impression.”

The men nodded solemnly as the crowd fell silent. In the distance thunder rumbled; surely a good sign from his namesake god.

“You six stay with the ship. If anything goes wrong, try to get away to tell our people what we have accomplished.”

Thor led the procession of eleven men up from the ship. The crowd parted, opening a corridor towards the nearest earthen pyramid that rose above the city. Topless women rushed forwards with platters of food. Some Thor recognized, fish, deer, bird meats, but the vegetables were all alien to him. Nevertheless, he tried a few things and found them pleasurable.

He noted several of his men fondling the half naked women as they strode past. Giggles swept through the crowd.

Overhead, thunder began to rumble ominously.

Stone steps led up the nearest earthen mound. Atop of the mound was a level platform where several older men with graying hair and staffs stood. They were dressed in fine leather dyed reds and oranges and purples, and a variety of colored feathers. The men carried staffs.

“Priests, I think?” Vali said with a sniffle. “Or chiefs?”

“Aye.” Thor nodded as they ascended the steps. His men followed closely behind him. “Possible both.”

Thor stopped two paces away from the old men. Behind the chiefs stood a dozen warriors. He bowed his head. The old men returned the gesture likewise.

Thor did not know this dialect of Skraegling tongue. However, he did have a rudimentary knowledge of the Skraegling tongue spoken near the headwaters of this great southern flowing river. In that language he spoke: “Greetings, chieftains. My name is Thorkil Olafsson. I…”

Thor frowned. The chieftain’s expressions transformed from one of curiosity and confidence, to one of anger and fear. They chattered amongst themselves for a brief moment.

Thor frowned. He turned to Vali. “Something’s wrong.”

“What did you say –?” Vali’s words were cut off as one of the Skraegling guards lunged forwards and stabbed his spear through Vali’s neck. Vali went down in a spray of blood.

Thor reacted. He brought his war hammer down and crushed the Skraeglings skull in a spray of gore. Behind him, Thor heard his men drawing steel.

“To the ship!” Thor shouted, turning. He froze. The corridor was filled with people. Many of them warriors. “To me, comrades! To me!”

Thor turned. The chieftains were gone. The warriors remained, closing in.

“To the high ground!” Thor shouted, pointing with his bloody war hammer. Behind the structures in front of them, the earthen hill rise rose to a small prominence.

Thor led the way, war hammer in hand. There were ten of them. They scythed through the few guards in their path as they staggered up the grassy slope. Spears and arrows took two of their party before they reached the summit.

Thor sucked in a seething breath. “Shields. Circle. Now.”

The eight remaining men formed a tight circle of the summit of the man-made earthen hill. Below them, on all sides stood warriors. Hundreds of warriors.

“Is this the fame you wanted, captain?” One man smirked.

Overhead, the thunder rumbled. Rain began to fall in sheets.

“Well, if we are to die this day, then it is a good day to die.” Thor said, spitting to one side. “Oh I just wish I could have a horn of mead first.”

“There will be plenty of time for that in Valhalla.” Another man jested. “Here they come.”

“Well let’s show these Skraeglings how real men fight.”

A few dozen Skraegling warriors rushed up the slope. Thor and his remaining men met the onslaught with grins and curses. Axes and swords and steel met wood, flesh and bone. The skirmish lasted maybe two minutes before the Skraeglings retreated partway down the slope.

Three more of his men lay dead and another two wounded. One mortally.

“Aye, I wonder what set them off.” One of the surviving men asked. “They struck first blood.”

“And we will strike last blood.” Thor snorted wiping the blood and rain from his face. Overhead, another crash of thunder. The ground shook. “Thor is cheering us on, boys.”

The Skraeglings rushed forwards again. The whole lot of them. Hundreds of warriors charged up the slope. Arrows filled the air. Two struck Thor’s shield, a third sliced a track across his cheek. He grinned, raising his bloody hammer high.

“THOR!” he cried. “Thor, help us strike down our enemies!”

The Skraeglings struck the surviving Norsemen with a tremendous cry. Blood and stone and steel filled the air. Limbs flew. And just when Thor thought the end was near, a blindingly bright flash filled the hilltop, enveloping it. Everything went white…

~​

When the storm passed, the surviving Skraegling warriors would cautiously investigate the hilltop where these strange, hairy men had made their last stand. While they did not know who these men were, they spoke the tongue of their enemies from up the river and therefore were foes.

The lightening strike – surely the work of some vengeful spirit – had wiped out the last Norsemen and a good fifty or sixty of the closest warriors as well. A grizzly sight, the charred and battered bodies. But they had won, albeit at a heavy cost.

They had also commandeered the Norsemen’s ship and taken four of the six crewmen alive as hostages, as well as the few slaves on board as well. Maybe, just maybe, their chieftain had said, the surviving Norsemen could be of use to them…


***​


So ends part four of this saga. Hope you all enjoyed. More to come in the near future so stay tuned! Cheers.
 
OH YES :D:D:D
So, what will happen now? will they realize they just crushed their own population for nothing? Will they realize they are going to get rekt by the Gods? Will those maps return to the home base? All this and more next time!
 
Now this is interesting!:D
If they manage to make use of the remaining norse to learn their ways, even farming alone, it'll have a large impact on the Mound Builders and their surrounding.
 
Top