He was standing in front of a big oakwood door. The door had seen many winters. It was shaved by master carpenters for five years and had been given to the former king as a gift from an allied country. The current king had been using it as the main gate because of it humongous size. He sighed, stepped back and gave the signal. Four soldiers came forward with a battering ram they placed it for the gate and started ramming it open. The king's castle had to few man to man the wall and had just barricaded the palace. The man put down his visor and unsheathed his gigantic sword his squire was barely holding onto, it was made out of ice steel, the only steel hard enough to cleave stone with ease and not even chip. The technique of making the steel was tightly guarded by the city of Skarnog, the most northern city. It was a city shrouded in mystery. People believed it was inhabited by giants, others though it were ice spirits. The sword had belonged to his father and his father before him. He had heard the heroic legend many times. His far away ancestor Ivor Knolitsvik, he was a loyal bannerman to a declining house. His warden had asked of him the unthinkable. To retrieve a sword from the city of Skarnog, he would be rewarded with the wardens daughter's hand in marriage and he would get his own land. Everybody told him he should decline only five man had ever returned from Skarnog. And only three of those carried an ice steel sword. Ivor accepted his wardens request and set of towards the northern city of Skarnog. As he past the great mountain range of the Giant's Stairs. The weather turned on him and he had to endure the neverending ice blizzards. The legends says he never felt the cold because the many gods saw his courage and thus protected him. After slaying countless wolves and cave bears he crossed the endless glaciers and saw the city of Skarnog. Surrounded by green and blue of the many rivers and farms located around the city in the middle of a valley. Ivor was so shocked he hadn’t heard the wolf who was sneaking up to him from behind. The wolf made an evil cut in his left shoulder. He slashed the wolf's neck right open as he passed out from the blood loss. The legend never told what exactly happened in Skarnog only that Ivor got the sword ice steel made sword after conquering a multitude of test and challenges. He returned fully healed to his wardens castle. The castle was burned to the ground, the wardens head was on a spike. He fell to his knees and prayed to the gods who had kept him safe to do the same to his warden and his daughter. The gods pitied him and they had a messenger deliver the news that the daughter was captured by the Baron of Meèr. Ivor gathered the still loyal bannerman and they marched for the Baron. He hacked down the simple gate with his sword and they rescued his fiancé. And he started his own house with his newly wedded wife. This legend would have taken place 1500 years ago in the age of yetis, trolls and giants. They were all but legends and myths of an bygone age. Vido always thought back to this legend before battle. As he prayed to the many gods for good luck and fortitude in the coming battle. The beautiful gate broke down and his troops swarmed into the courtyard. He mounted his war horse, a black stallion of a fine breed, and rode into the castle. It had huge outer walls build with massive solid stones, the inner walls were smaller but had more shelter and towers. The outer courtyard had a marketplace, he remembered the smith, a small man but with arms as big as trees, he knew his way with a forge, a shame he didn’t defect could have used such a man. The smith’s shop was being burned by the soldiers disappointed by the lack of fights, it didn’t burn well as it was mostly built from stones. The inner wall was guarded with soldiers. The king's flag waved proudly in the wind as both sides looked at each other in silence. The man stepped forward, pulled of his helmet and gave it too his squire. The man's face was a bit rounded by fat but was certainly fit, his eyes were a dark brown and he looked like he wouldn’t be surprised if the castle grew wings and flew away. As his eyes swept over the wall, they stopped by a stern looking fellow with the sigil of the king in his armor. “You must be the king's nephew. I had expected you older with all the fame you have. I even hear my wife in the far north talk about Sir Gerard of house Lothperic, the knight of the Middle-plain, the man who could move mountains.” The old man spoke in a heavy voice which seemed to demand absolute authority. “And could you be Sir Vido Knolitsvik, the Bear of the North, Keeper of Ice Steel, Guardian of Vitsjk, Butcher of the Plains?” Sir Gerards voice was drenched in mockery, arrogance and pride. Sir Vido’s face showed real madness and rage at the mention of his almost forgotten nickname the Butcher of the Plains. He signed his squire to give his helmet back, the squire stumbled against Vido’s horse. Vido slapped the boy, not older than twelve, hard on his head, grabbed his helmet out the boy's hands. He calmed down after a while and gave the signal for the assault with eyes as cold and heartless as ice.

Everywhere man were plundering, burning or cheering. The king's man never stood any kind of chance, they were mercilessly slaughtered by him and his man. The king himself was captured one of his bannerman who had to take a shit. The king had almost jumped into the shitter itself but was grabbed before he sullied his father's name and his clothes any further. He had brought the sacred king to his leader who had executed him publicly. Their rebellion practically won already. They only had to squash some royal friendly nobles, even though they had gathered quite the army of sellswords and farmers it was far too little. They outnumbered them two to one and they had the terrain advantage. You could defend the Grassplains even with a thousand man against a ten-thousand large force. He could finally go back to his family, house Vradgikol would take the throne, and the kingdom would now peace once again. His third son would soon be born and he didn’t want to miss this one aswell, his wife never let him forget that he had missed the birth of his first daughter while he was on a campaign to quell some troublesome bandits in the north of his territory. He walked into the very extravagant wollen tent of Vradgikol, who would be their future king. He would swear his fealty on his house and honor, and if the king desired he would even swear it on his arm band. “Our neighbours are very interested in our internal strife, I have caught an alarming amount of spies from the Low Lands alone. Sire, we need to have a tight control of Vitsjk if we are to face the aggression of Low Lands.” “Ah, Sir Knolitsvik would you be so kind and comply yourself and your man to our cause one more time, to stop these insufferable royalists from gaining a foothold in the Low Lands.” The king’s voice was skittish and nervous, his royal adviser Eric was reading the weekly reports out loud. “My honourable king I need to head home, my lands will soon be hit by the Summer Melt. And my wife has requested my presence by the birth of my third son, I think her words were: My dearest husband, Vido, if you are away for any reason at the moment I give birth to your son, I will release all the hungry hunting wolves to find you and tear you apart and bury you in the East sea so you may never join the gods. with all my love, Catherina Knolitsvik.” “Hahahah yeah that sounds like your Catherina al right, a shame she is holed up in your lands so far north. I think our court would be a lot more active with your wife here in the capital. Don’t you agree, Eric?” “Sire, I am unable to imagine such a court because I have never met the Beauty of the North, wife of Vido and with all thy respect, the Tyran of Vitsjk.” “Eric it is that you’re a steward otherwise I would have challenged you to a duel for flirting and insulting my wife and therefor myself.” Vido said, grinning widely as he saw the little man make himself even smaller at hearing his words. “Sir Vragdikol? Do you need my presence here any further?” Vido asked, his face had turned serious and his voice harsh and heavy, which seemed to come naturally after you had fought on the battlefield as long as he had. “No Vido you are excused, return homewards with your man and give my greetings to Catherina.” Vido gave one last look at the king bowed, turned towards Eric as he gave him a big smile and saluted him jokingly. He walked out of the tent, he put on his thick woolen gloves which were made out of the fur of northern wolves and his cape and armor were clad in black bear hide, his stomach, wrist, shoulders and groin were protected with hard iron plates. Which were clad with fur on the inside against the everlasting cold. Even spring didn’t bring the warmth to Vitsjks capital. It was surrounded with mountains on the West and North, in the South was the biggest port of Vitsjk and in the East lay the Grassplains. An enormous tundra of grass and bushes. The Grassplains were surrounded by the sea on all sides except the North-West. There a passage led through the mountains towards the valleys and warmer winds of the Middle-plain. Almost all of the crops came from here, further in the north laid Ice Valley a land full of ice, glaciers, wolves and bears, it was unfriendly and harsh and the people were no different. The Ice Valley was split into five counties and the most eastern, coldest and biggest was Vido’s. In the time of Ivor of Ice Steel the Ice Valley had conquered many areas from the more peaceful Middle-plain. It had been an independent kingdom which was feared for their warriors and ruthlessness. But was ultimately defeated by the strategic minds of Vitsjk, just as the kingdoms on the Middle-plain and the horde which roamed the Grassplains, two-hundred years ago. Vido was leading thirteen-thousand of his most men back home, they had almost lost four-thousand men in the rebellion. And his men weren’t that much richer to show for it back home. The king would give him the title of Dutch as promised, he would rule ⅔ of the Ice Valley, Vido was smiling as he imagined telling his wife the great news.

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“...and the giants smashed apart all the mountains in the Low Lands, they carried the rocks to Loth, capital of Vitsjk, and they build a wall around it. An in the place of the smashed mountains came rivers. They start in the mountains of Loth, they split and grow back together, till the land of the Low Lands had rivers everywhere. The east sea filled up with all the water, in return it gave us warm winds for farming. That’s why you can walk barefoots in the homestead in late spring, and why we have so many crops.” Her son was lying in bed as she told him the story. As he fell asleep she sneeked away, and went to her husband. He was caring for the donkey, it was an important beast for their farm. The man was getting to old for the farm, he had already seen forty winters. His back was straining and his hands were shaking. His son was still too young for farm work, he was only nine winters. The woman found him staring at his shaking hands, near the eating donkey. The woman hugged him as she sat next to him. “Come on Hig, you need to hold on, a few years and Yort will be able to help you. Forget the war.” The woman kept whispering and hugging the man. He slowly looked up, mesmerized by her beautiful green eyes. “How by the five divine rivers were you not bethrothed earlier?” He asked again in slight surprise. “Hig, I was waiting for you.” he kissed her, her lips tasted like flower, he took of her tunic and grabbed her perky breasts tightly. She removed his pants.

She moaned loud after he finished in her, the donkey was surprised and jumped up, he quickly calmed down and went to sleep again. She woke up feeling the cold of the night. The donkey was licking the face of Hig with a passion. She put on her tunic, walked out of the shed towards the homestead. Hig woke up some time later almost at the same time as Yort. “Mother? Should I help Hig with farming, I heard he has been using Oli more since he came back.” “Ah Yort is that you? Yes please help me, Oli is also not that young anymore, you can help with plowing, its heavy labor I know, but you will get very strong arms, it will make the Swim much easier.”Higs voice came from the shed. As Hig gave Yort a small plow, he lead him to the field. “Hig I’m going to the town, till later boys. And Hig don’t overwork the boy he still young.” She neared the little hamlets, which made up the town, and walked towards the only shop in the little town. The town was located on a lone hill, farms spread around it, it had only around two hundred citizens. Her husbands farm was located on the far West side of the town. There sometimes was a merchant, who travelled between the small cities, he was a nice man, a bit fat, well spoken and clearly making enough money, to afford a small dozen guards. He would probably arrive in about two nightcycles, when most winter crops could be harvested. She walked into the little shop, which belonged to the chief, she bought some wheat and milk. They had a great fall harvest, so she could buy some more. She walked out of the shop, passed and greeted some of her friends, towards the road back home. Her basket was full with little trinkets and daily necessities. Back home Yort had blisters on his hands and Hig was still working, on gathering some wintercarrots. “And Yort how did you help father, he didn’t overwork you right?” Elain asked Yort, while she was taking out the groceries and eyeing his blisters.