American Viking: a timeline
- Thread starter Odinson
- Start date
In history, there were army goats used to carry supplies in pouches, roughly up to 40 pounds of supplies. Then there's also the ability to pull carts. But goats pulling catapults is probably far fetched.
But it would be funny some european explorer finding a native army with catapults being pulled by like some twenty goats
Or one super buff Vinland goat!But it would be funny some european explorer finding a native army with catapults being pulled by like some twenty goats
Ok, I just caught up with reading the entire thing, and I am loving it!
This is not a take on Norse America I have seen before, and I like the way you're doing it, keep it up!
This is not a take on Norse America I have seen before, and I like the way you're doing it, keep it up!
Driftless
Donor
I agree. I think it's more plausible that the path to success involves a lot of social and economic interaction, including inter-breeding. There's a whole lot more of the Natives than the Vinlanders. Plus, that's consistent with the typical Scandinavian approach of the age, whether it's by setting up trading routes into Russia, or invasion of the British Isles, Normandy, and elsewhere. Insert yourself into a local culture one-way-or-the-other and become part of the fabric.
Not to displace the goats, DValdron claimed long ago, in Lands of Ice and Mice, that actually dogs are quite effective draft animals too--they are much smaller than say horses, but per kilogram they pull more as sled dogs. Nor do they have to be fed meat exclusively; dog foods based on vegetable matter can work, particularly I suppose if one mixes a bit of meat product in there judiciously. And of course in some contexts it is a good thing they can eat meat.
So, I can see a feedback process whereby the Norse, using Scandinavian draft goats and improving the breeds to be stronger, promote a sort of arms race with rival Native neighboring powers, who manage to obtain some goats of their own...but meanwhile also, realize (perhaps with news of northern peoples using dog sleds) that their dogs can be bred as draft animals too--maybe they even obtain some Huskies for crossbreeding). On a similar time scale to the improvement in the capabilities of draft goats, breeds of North American draft dogs also develop, and the Norse adopt them too. So there is a spectrum of sorts, with the Norse mainly relying on their improving goats, but having some dogs bred and trained for draft pulling or pack loads as well, which they use preferentially on long range expeditions that expect to feed themselves largely on hunting (or plundering Native enemy herds if any--some Native people might take to at least somewhat manipulating bison life cycles for greater convenience, perhaps directing their migrations--and meanwhile Norse channeled European animals like sheep or cattle might infiltrate to the woodlands and plains too). Draft dogs might individually pull less, animal versus animal, than a strong goat, but one can have several for every goat one might have planned to bring along. Goats are competitive foragers of course, with their ability to eat a wide variety of things--it might tip the balance that a well trained dog can also assist in hunting, and even in melee fighting perhaps.
So, I can see a feedback process whereby the Norse, using Scandinavian draft goats and improving the breeds to be stronger, promote a sort of arms race with rival Native neighboring powers, who manage to obtain some goats of their own...but meanwhile also, realize (perhaps with news of northern peoples using dog sleds) that their dogs can be bred as draft animals too--maybe they even obtain some Huskies for crossbreeding). On a similar time scale to the improvement in the capabilities of draft goats, breeds of North American draft dogs also develop, and the Norse adopt them too. So there is a spectrum of sorts, with the Norse mainly relying on their improving goats, but having some dogs bred and trained for draft pulling or pack loads as well, which they use preferentially on long range expeditions that expect to feed themselves largely on hunting (or plundering Native enemy herds if any--some Native people might take to at least somewhat manipulating bison life cycles for greater convenience, perhaps directing their migrations--and meanwhile Norse channeled European animals like sheep or cattle might infiltrate to the woodlands and plains too). Draft dogs might individually pull less, animal versus animal, than a strong goat, but one can have several for every goat one might have planned to bring along. Goats are competitive foragers of course, with their ability to eat a wide variety of things--it might tip the balance that a well trained dog can also assist in hunting, and even in melee fighting perhaps.
Chapter 25
1300: The fringes of where Mohican lands end and Kanien'keha:ka begin
Gunnar cheered alongside the throngs of fellow warriors as he watched two men fight. After marching for days, a small wrestling ring was set up for the men to practice. It was a good way to let off steam, to ease the mind. With a final grunt, one of the men fell to his knees. The crowd cheered louder as the winner stood tall and raised two fist in the air. There was a call for challengers. Gunnar quickly yelled, announcing his intent to be next in the ring. Ivar looked down at him in surprise.
"You? Really?"
"I wrestled all the time back home. I was pretty good." Ivar grunted, leaving it at that.
Gunnar entered the ring, lengths of rope separating the crowd from the fighters. He tightened the wrappings around his hands and wrists. His tunic was off, hanging over the rope, exposing his bare back to the sun. The cheering, hooting, and shouting reminded him of home, of besting the other boys. He raised his fists and twisted his body to the side, exposing less of himself to the older skraeling. The native closed the gap, jabbing at Gunnar, trying to break his block. The feeling of blows landing on him, on his arms reminded him of youth. Of fighting with his friends. Of the glory, or the admiration the others had for him. The life he enjoyed before being caught up in a conflict he had no idea was even going on prior to his escape from an angry father wielding an ax. He missed that life. He missed not having to fear going up against a rival army. He missed home. His family. His neighbors. The nostalgia, the anger, it fueled him. When he saw an opening, he uppercut the older man, knocking him flat on his back as spittle was violently flung from his mouth. Groaning, the skraeling man tenderly rubbed his jaw.
Smiling, Gunnar looked to the crowd and shouted "Who else wants a go at me?!" Sure enough, a Nordic man entered the ring, wanting to knock down the winner a peg.
"I'll have a go at ye." Vivid tattoos of a kraken covered the man's chest, tentacles stretching to the shoulders before running down to the man's wrists. As he flexed, the tentacles bulged. Feeling like he was back in his element, Gunnar smiled.
"I enjoy a good fight."
A sudden blow to the gut momentarily broke Gunnar's deffense, making him stumble. The norse man had a powerful punch, and his swing could be seen coming a mile away. Gunnar ducked and punched him right in the balls. With a loud "oof!" the man was brought to his knees before lunging forward and tackling Gunnar to the ground, pinning him on his back. Gunnar couldn't move, couldn't break out of the man's grip.
"Yield?"
"....I yield." The man got off of him, congratulating him on an entertaining fight. Ivar stood over Gunnar, looking down at him.
"Looks like you got cocky."
"..... yeah, I kinda did." Ivar helped him to his feet and walked him back out of the arena.
"I'll give it to you, you did better than I expected from you. A lot better." Gunnar looked at Ivar, who seemed to favor his war party in an almost paternal fashion, and smiled a little.
"Thanks Ivar."
Sorry for the long break between updates!
EDIT: I accidentally called Ivar Gunnar in that last line
Gunnar cheered alongside the throngs of fellow warriors as he watched two men fight. After marching for days, a small wrestling ring was set up for the men to practice. It was a good way to let off steam, to ease the mind. With a final grunt, one of the men fell to his knees. The crowd cheered louder as the winner stood tall and raised two fist in the air. There was a call for challengers. Gunnar quickly yelled, announcing his intent to be next in the ring. Ivar looked down at him in surprise.
"You? Really?"
"I wrestled all the time back home. I was pretty good." Ivar grunted, leaving it at that.
Gunnar entered the ring, lengths of rope separating the crowd from the fighters. He tightened the wrappings around his hands and wrists. His tunic was off, hanging over the rope, exposing his bare back to the sun. The cheering, hooting, and shouting reminded him of home, of besting the other boys. He raised his fists and twisted his body to the side, exposing less of himself to the older skraeling. The native closed the gap, jabbing at Gunnar, trying to break his block. The feeling of blows landing on him, on his arms reminded him of youth. Of fighting with his friends. Of the glory, or the admiration the others had for him. The life he enjoyed before being caught up in a conflict he had no idea was even going on prior to his escape from an angry father wielding an ax. He missed that life. He missed not having to fear going up against a rival army. He missed home. His family. His neighbors. The nostalgia, the anger, it fueled him. When he saw an opening, he uppercut the older man, knocking him flat on his back as spittle was violently flung from his mouth. Groaning, the skraeling man tenderly rubbed his jaw.
Smiling, Gunnar looked to the crowd and shouted "Who else wants a go at me?!" Sure enough, a Nordic man entered the ring, wanting to knock down the winner a peg.
"I'll have a go at ye." Vivid tattoos of a kraken covered the man's chest, tentacles stretching to the shoulders before running down to the man's wrists. As he flexed, the tentacles bulged. Feeling like he was back in his element, Gunnar smiled.
"I enjoy a good fight."
A sudden blow to the gut momentarily broke Gunnar's deffense, making him stumble. The norse man had a powerful punch, and his swing could be seen coming a mile away. Gunnar ducked and punched him right in the balls. With a loud "oof!" the man was brought to his knees before lunging forward and tackling Gunnar to the ground, pinning him on his back. Gunnar couldn't move, couldn't break out of the man's grip.
"Yield?"
"....I yield." The man got off of him, congratulating him on an entertaining fight. Ivar stood over Gunnar, looking down at him.
"Looks like you got cocky."
"..... yeah, I kinda did." Ivar helped him to his feet and walked him back out of the arena.
"I'll give it to you, you did better than I expected from you. A lot better." Gunnar looked at Ivar, who seemed to favor his war party in an almost paternal fashion, and smiled a little.
"Thanks Ivar."
Sorry for the long break between updates!
EDIT: I accidentally called Ivar Gunnar in that last line
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Ironically, i firstly caught up on TTL in an entire afternoonFinally caught up!
Finally caught up!
Me To!Ironically, i firstly caught up on TTL in an entire afternoon
Great timeline you have going here @Odinson ! I'm not sure when the next update will be, as I have misplaced my notes on Wampanoag and Norse culture.
Besides that, I have been pondering on Wampanoag system of government as the position of grand sachem is selected by the elders of the tribes. This could easily evolve into something similar to a prime minister
Besides that, I have been pondering on Wampanoag system of government as the position of grand sachem is selected by the elders of the tribes. This could easily evolve into something similar to a prime minister