Ulrich sat on the edge of a cliff overlooking a river. "Why was I brought here—to die or to live? Who knows?" he pondered aloud. With a sudden resolve, he picked up a rock and hurled it into the rushing waters. "My name will echo through history."
He rose from the cliff's edge and turned to walk away, revealing the village below. The newly completed great hall stood proudly at its center, surrounded by five modest houses. The village featured roads, wells, and other essential amenities. As Ulrich entered the great hall, he took his place atop a wooden, Viking-style throne. "Did you get it?" he asked, his voice deep and uncompromising, Just then, Harald approached and handed Ulrich a large rolled parchment. The room was filled with warriors, all eyes on Ulrich as he unrolled the map of Europe. He pointed to a region. "This is where we are—it's called Norway." Next, he indicated another region. "And this is Britannia, or England. With your help, I plan to raid England. When we return, we will be rich!"
Cheers of excitement broke out among the warriors. "Alright, everyone out. I need to talk to Harald," Ulrich commanded as the hall emptied.
"What's wrong, kid?" Harald asked. Ulrich closed his eyes and sighed. "We can't raid England."
"Why not?" Harald pressed. "You get everyone's hopes up. We have around 123 soldiers. England is divided into seven kingdoms—Northumbria, Mercia, Wessex, Sussex, Kent, Essex, and East Anglia. Each kingdom has hundreds of soldiers." "I haven't mentioned this before," Ulrich continued, "but when Sigurd was here, I was trying to recruit a shieldmaiden warband, and I'm still waiting for their reply." He paused, then added, "Oh, about that wolf you brought back: it's fully healed after taking the medicine you gave it. And regarding the shieldmaidens, we could just visit them. Speaking of visits, aren't you going to check on the village Sigurd gave you?"
"Not now," Ulrich replied, rising from his throne. "Prepare my escort."
The scene shifted to Eleanor deep in the forest, practicing her sword technique, slashing at a tree. The bark bore numerous dull sword marks when the sound of hooves broke the silence. A rider approached: a woman clad in brown boots, grey pants, and a beige shirt adorned with armor on her shoulders and wrists.
"Eleanor!" the woman called as her horse came to a stop. "Helga says that Earl Ulrich has returned." Eleanor's face lit up with excitement at the mention of someone so important.
The scene shifted again to a medieval castle, where a man in a red cloak peered out from a window. The man wore white royal robes beneath the cloak. "The Northmen should be arriving soon," he mused.
Meanwhile, Sigurd sat upon his horse, leading a convoy loaded with supplies. A man in wolf-head armor rode alongside him. "Are you sure about giving two villages to this Ulrich kid?" the man asked.
Sigurd chuckled, "Ivar will deal with him."
The scene returned to Ulrich, who was riding alongside Harald, flanked by about 50 warriors. As they drew near the village, Eleanor and Helga eagerly awaited them, while Astrid stood nearby, her expression less enthusiastic, gripping her battle ax.
Ulrich dismounted, and in an instant, Helga tackled him with a joyful hug. He managed to keep his footing. "How have you been?" she exclaimed, and Ulrich responded with a playful noogie.
Looking up, Ulrich found himself face-to-face with Eleanor. "Oh, Ulrich," Helga said, "this is Eleanor. Eleanor, meet Ulrich—the guy I told you about."
"Are you sisters?" Ulrich asked.
"No," Eleanor responded, trying to maintain her composure. "We grew up together; we're great friends—Viking age sorority sisters!"
"It's kind of funny," Takuya thought to himself.
"Can we go somewhere private to talk?" Ulrich suggested, his tone more serious.
The group gathered in a windowless room adorned with a chandelier and medieval candle mounts. Helga was seen eating roughly, not paying attention to the discussion.
"What can I do for you?" Eleanor asked Ulrich.
"I plan to turn the three cities I currently own into a kingdom." Gasps filled the room, and only Harald remained composed, his eyes wide in shock.
Ignoring their surprise, Ulrich continued, "I can't create a kingdom with only 123 soldiers. I can't use them to attack another kingdom, which is why I invite you all to be commanders in my army and high-ranking officials in this kingdom. All I need is your loyalty and your soldiers."
"I'll follow you," Eleanor said, "but me, Astrid, and Helga are part of a much larger group of shieldmaidens known as the Sisters of the Shield. Our leader, Nia, will want to investigate you."
As Ulrich stood up from his seat, he declared, "I'll have a house prepared for you and your group." He then exited the room, leaving a mix of anticipation and uncertainty in his wake.
Ulrich was about to mount his horse when Harald stopped him. "Hey, kid," he said, grabbing Ulrich's arm. "You never told me anything about this."
Ulrich laughed. "I guess I forgot." He swung up onto his horse and shouted, "Make way to Eddaheim!" With that, he and his soldiers, along with Harald, began their march away from the shieldmaiden village.
The scene shifted to a semi-medieval Viking-style village. A woman dressed in a black gown with a white sash was tending to crops when a black-haired girl with blue eyes rushed up to her. "There's someone heading toward the village!"
Ulrich rode into view, sipping wine from a drinking horn. "It's been so long since I've had wine, and even then, the wine here isn't as good as the wine from the future!" he said internally
One of the soldiers shouted as the village came into clearer view, nearly every villager staring at Ulrich and his company. Among the peasants, one woman stood out: she wore a leather armband and a red battle skirt, with a blue chestplate that accented her brown hair and freckled face. A small sword dangled at her side, and a pouch was tied to her belt, complemented by a fur cloak. All at once, the warriors halted in the town square.
Ulrich dismounted, and the narrative shifted to Earl Sigurd in a grand Viking throne room. The wooden-beamed hall was filled with tables where Vikings consumed their meals roughly. In the center lay an octagon-shaped indent leading up to a throne. Upon it sat a menacing man with a bushy beard and brown hair, draped in a fur coat. A belt across his chest bore an unusual symbol, while a small sword hung at his waist. Beside him was a massive double-sided axe adorned with engravings and decorated with bear teeth.
"So, you're telling me that a brand-new self-proclaimed Earl has taken two of your cities—cities that are useless anyway—and this is a challenge to your rule? He said himself he wasn't scared of you!" pleaded Sigurd. Yet Ivar showed no signs of interest.
"Get out of my castle before I kill you, Sigurd," Ivar said, rising from the throne and grasping his battle axe. Sigurd turned away, simmering. *That damned Ulrich will pay for making me look like a fool,* he thought.
The scene then returned to Ulrich, who was seated across from the woman from before. "I heard that Earl Sigurd had sacked our village, but I didn't think he'd be foolish enough to try," she said.
Harald approached Ulrich and handed him some papers. Ulrich examined them and glanced up at the woman. "It says here that you have 18 ships at your disposal."
"Uh, yes. We have a carved-out spot in the mountains where we store our ships," the woman replied.
"It also mentions that this village's chieftain is a man named Roki Halfenberg. My father died a day ago, so I'm the acting chieftain of this village. I'll be staying for a few days. I don't need anything fancy," Ulrich said.
"Okay, I can manage that," she responded.
The narrative shifted to a nearby tavern table where a messy-haired teenager with blonde hair and blue eyes sat. Under his fur cloak, he wore lamellar armor, and a short spatha and axe hung from his waist. A few tables away, men were engaged in conversation.
"Hey, have you heard?" one man said, his voice cracking, likely from drunkenness. "Sigurd sold Eddaheim to some lone Earl!"
"I heard he's building an army," a deeper voice interjected. The messy-haired teenager looked surprised at the news.
"I already joined!" another man exclaimed, his voice squeaky. "I can't wait to go to war!"
The men cheered, raising their glasses in celebration. Behind them, the messy-haired teenager piped up.
"Hey!" he called. The deep-voiced man turned, visibly annoyed. "What do you want, kid?" he grumbled.
The teenager smirked. "Where do I sign up for the army?"
Ulrich stood in front of a group of soldiers on horseback. Harald sat on one of the horses. When the shieldmaidens arrived at the main village, Ulrich said, "Come here. The rest of you, go to Alsvik and recruit as many people as you can."
"Alright, you heard the man! Let's go!" Half of the soldiers went one way, while the other half went the opposite way as Ulrich turned to face the village. Ulrich then inhaled and exhaled through his nose, and subtly smelled a foul odor. "I think I should try to create a washing system now," Ulrich said, still annoyed by the bad smell.
Meanwhile, it showed Eleanor walking through her village, which was mostly empty as everyone had started to pack their belongings to move. Eleanor glanced at Astrid, who was packing her clothes with Helga. Astrid was also asking Helga if certain clothes looked good on her. Eleanor got behind Astrid, teasing her, "Who are you trying to impress?" Eleanor then smirked, as if she had a brilliant idea. "Are you trying to impress Earl Ulrich?" Eleanor said Astrid then blushed and pushed Eleanor away.
Troops approaching!!, One Yelled
it then skipped showing Ulrich in front of an old man standing in front a barrel. The barrel contained a black substance. Ulrich and a old man stood in front of a longhouse, on which was an emblem with a shield in the back and a sword and axe crossed together in the front. "So, what is it?" the old man said, looking at the black substance. "Where I come from, we use this to make a certain type of steel that is stronger, more durable, and better than any sword you will ever make," Ulrich replied. The old man glanced at the barrel, "What do I need to do?"
Step 1: Gather Materials Ulrich started to say fast kinda excited
You'll need a few basic materials:
**Clay**: Look for natural clay that can withstand high temperatures.
**Sand**: Coarse sand helps make the furnace stronger.
**Straw or organic material**: This will help bind the clay and improve ventilation.
Step 2: Build the Base
Start with a solid base for your furnace. If you're using a steel drum, cut it in half. If using bricks, arrange them in a circular or square shape, leaving the top open.
Step 3: Create the Furnace Walls
Mix your clay with sand and straw to create a thick paste. Apply this mixture to the inside walls of your drum or the bricks. Make it at least 2-3 inches thick to handle high temperatures.
Step 4: Form the Opening
Leave an opening at the bottom for airflow. This is important because the fire needs oxygen to burn effectively. You can create a small hole or a vent at the bottom of your furnace.
Step 5: Add a Grate
Install a grate made of metal or sturdy material at the bottom above the opening. This allows air to flow in and keeps the charcoal and iron sand raised above the bottom, improving the furnace efficiency.
Step 6: Finishing Touches
Smooth out the clay walls and leave a small opening at the top where you can add your iron sand and charcoal for smelting. Make sure everything is well-ventilated.
Step 7: Let it Dry
Allow your furnace to dry completely. This can take a couple of days, depending on the humidity and thickness of the clay.
Step 8: Ready to Fire Up
When your furnace is completely dry, you can start a small fire inside to test it out. Gradually increase the temperature by adding charcoal and adjusting the airflow.
"Once you finish all that, come back to me, and we can start the steel-making process, and then the sword-making process," Ulrich said, his excitement evident as the scene shifted to Eleanor, who sat at a table
One of the women wore a blue dress cinched at the waist with a belt, accompanied by brown pants. Arm bracelets adorned her wrists for protection, and a fur cloak accentuated her brown hair and eyes. A delicate crown rested on her head. She was introduced as Nia, whose commanding presence drew attention.
Next to Nia sat Sophie, dressed in a red dress, brown pants, and brown boots, topped with a red Viking fur cloak. Her blonde hair and blue eyes gleamed brightly, but her expression was one of disappointment as she looked at Eleanor.
The third woman at the table exuded seriousness. She wore a green dress complemented by a fur cloak and adorned herself with necklaces that hinted at her status. Her brown hair framed her face, and her greenish-blue eyes scanned the room. With leather armbands and a waist cincher, she bore an agricultural scythe, sharpened enough to behead someone with ease. Her name was Ash.
"What are you doing, Eleanor?" Nia asked, concern etched across her face.
"Earl Ulrich is a good man. He is directly opposing the most dangerous man in the realm," Eleanor pleaded.
With a frustrated slam of her hands on the table, Ash glared at Eleanor. "You and anyone else who stands with you are to be banished, effective immediately!" Her tone was unwavering.
"Enough, Ash!" Nia interjected, clearly irritated by Ash's proposal. "I want to meet this Ulrich. Once I meet him, I can cast my own judgment."
As Nia spoke, Ulrich paused to eat. Suddenly, Runa barged into the great hall, panting heavily and accompanied by a foul odor.
"What's wrong?" Ulrich asked, wrinkling his nose.
"Horse dung," she replied, annoyance evident in her voice as she made her way to the table.
"Hey, Runa, I have a question," Ulrich said.
"Yeah? What do you want?" Runa asked curtly.
"Do you have any salt?"
Runa looked at him quizzically. "What is salt?"
Ulrich felt a wave of confusion wash over him, realizing that people in this timeline didn't have salt. "Uhm, go get some water from the ocean and bring it back here."
"Sure, sir," Runa replied, a hint of annoyance in her tone as she left.
"Wait, Runa," Ulrich called out, stopping her. "Who builds your ships?"
The scene shifted to Harald, who was enjoying a chicken leg. Across from him sat a man with red hair wearing a brown gown and boots. A portion of his hair was braided, and a short yet lush beard framed his face.
"So, what can I do for you?" the red-haired man asked.
"I want you to join me," Harald said.
The red-haired man paused before biting into his chicken. "I've teamed up with a new earl who's creating his own kingdom."
The red-haired man smirked. "You're low on soldiers."
"Actually, it's the exact opposite," Harald replied instantly. "We have 100 soldiers, plus around 50-60 from a shieldmaiden group. If we meet our shieldmaiden recruitment goals, we could increase that 100 to 400 soldiers—maybe even more."
The red-haired man laughed out loud, his voice echoing through the forest where they sat. "You know I only allow 25 soldiers at a time. What would your so-called kingdom need with 25 soldiers?"
"25 well-trained, experienced, and disciplined soldiers," Harald retorted. "You're one of the few people I know with no allegiance in the entire land. There are only two individuals I have any type of allegiance or love for—my trainer and a man I trained. The only way I'll join you is if I trust your leader."
The scene transitioned again to Ulrich, seated in front of an old man who stood before him. The old man was bald, with long white eyebrows, blue eyes, and a lush white beard. He wore a fur coat over a black Viking gown speckled with dirt and held a hammer in his hand.
"So, you want me to build a custom boat for you?" the old man asked.
"Yes," Ulrich replied. "I've dabbled in boat building, but this is something I can't achieve with my limited experience. I need someone like you, who has been crafting ships for years. Here's what I'm thinking…"
The backbone of this galleon will be its hull, primarily constructed from sturdy local hardwoods like oak and pine. Oak's toughness makes it ideal for frames and keels, while pine is lighter and suitable for planking, ensuring reliability. Using cedar for the deck and smaller components will help resist rot—a crucial consideration in marine environments.
The shape of the hull is essential for stability and speed. I envision a long, narrow design reminiscent of Viking ships, with a slightly pointed bow and raised stern. This design balances quick maneuverability with capacity for cargo or troops. The keel will be deep enough to provide stability while allowing for enough draft to navigate various sea conditions.
The total curvature of the hull—what shipwrights call "rocker"—will be carefully calculated to ensure the ship slices through water while allowing the oars to function efficiently for steering.
Armed with my tools, I'll begin by laying down the keel—the ship's spine. Next, I'll construct the ribs or frames using steam-bent oak. This steam-bending process allows the wood to curve without breaking, ensuring a seamless transition that enhances the ship's hydrodynamics.
Each rib will be positioned at regular intervals along the keel, sewn together and secured using traditional joinery methods like mortise and tenon joints. This construction will create a strong, flexible frame that can endure the stresses of sea and battle.
Next comes the planking. I'll employ the clinker method, where overlapping planks are fastened together. This technique not only provides a robust seal against leaks but also allows slight flexing in the hull—vital for adapting to turbulent maritime conditions.
The planks will be caulked with a mix of textile fibers soaked in pitch or tar, adding a layer of water resistance and further strengthening the structure against the elements.
As I approach the defining feature of steering—our oars—I'll craft long, narrow oars from sturdy ash or oak. Each oar must be balanced, with a broad blade at one end for effective propulsion and a well-formed grip at the other. Lengths typically range from 10 to 16 feet, allowing for a strong leverage point while supplying necessary force during rowing.
While Viking ships primarily relied on oars for speed and steering, this galleon will use a similar technique, offering intricate maneuverability, even when wind conditions are unfavorable or during close engagements.
In the context of steering, the rowers will work in a coordinated manner—like a synchronized dance. When I want to turn the ship, the crew will pull harder on the oars on one side while easing the pull on the opposite side, pivoting the hull in the desired direction.
This system allows for remarkable agility, especially for a merchant vessel that might need to navigate narrow channels or execute evasive maneuvers in battle. The oars not only provide propulsion; they also significantly influence the vessel's attitude in the water.
Once the hull is secured and fortified, I'll focus on the deck and superstructure. The deck will contain a cockpit area for the helmsman, likely near the stern for optimal visibility. I'll incorporate a rudimentary steering mechanism— a tiller that can work in conjunction with the oars for precision steering.
As the construction nears completion, we'll treat the wooden surfaces with a protective coating of pitch or wax, which protects against marine pests and adds a lovely sheen. The rigging may appear simple, with fewer sails than later galleons, but it allows for maximum efficiency with a minimum crew—a vital consideration for a vessel primarily reliant on oar power.
Ulrich pulled up the blueprint of the galleon, examining the oar steering system at the bottom. The old man chuckled and said, "Give me three weeks, and I'll have your ship ready."
Just then, Harald barged into the cave where Ulrich and the old man were working. Ulrich instantly rose to greet Harald with the traditional Viking handshake, where they grasped each other's wrists and smiled.
"So, how was it?" Ulrich asked.
"The shieldmaiden is in a bit of trouble," Harald replied. "Her leader found out about your attempt to recruit them and wants to meet you. They'll be here tomorrow. If we ally with them, we should have a strong force."
He paused before continuing, "Plus, I visited an old master of mine, and he has agreed to join us along with his soldiers."
"Alsvik?" Ulrich asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Whoa, whoa—Alsvik? You won't get anything out of Alsvik," the old shipwright interjected. "It's a farming town. No fighters ever go near it."
Ulrich sighed and then turned back to Harald. "Round up everyone who signed up for our army and tell them to gather at Alsvik. I have other matters to deal with," he instructed, walking out of the cave.
The scene shifted to the clay furnace Ulrich had requested the swordsmith to make. Upon entering the room, Ulrich was surprised by the progress. When the old man saw him, he paused blowing air into the furnace.
"Hey, kid! What are you doing here?" the old man said.
"I'm here to check on my sword," Ulrich replied.
Before the old man could speak, a skinny teenager peering into the furnace yelled, "We GOT STEEL!!"
Ulrich ran over to the teenager and saw a large piece of steel glowing in the furnace. The old man quickly came over with tongs and retrieved the steel.
Ulrich gazed at the steel in awe. *I didn't think such barbaric people could make this,* he thought internally. "Well, I need to tell you the rest of the steps now," Ulrich said, a little hesitantly.
"Let me explain how the best pieces of steel are transformed into a katana. First, these pieces are sent to a skilled swordsman, who heats, hammers, and folds the steel repeatedly. This process helps to mix the iron and carbon better and removes any leftover impurities, known as "slag." It's a crucial step, despite being tedious. If any elements outside of iron and carbon are left in the sword, it will be weaker.
Once the swordsman removes the slag, he determines the carbon content of the steel by observing how much it bends under his hammering. One expert compared getting rid of slag from steel to squeezing liquid out of a very hard sponge.
After the swordsman hammers out all the slag, he heats the high-carbon steel and shapes it into a long U-shaped channel. He then hammers the tough low-carbon steel to fit snugly into the channel, forging the two types of steel together. At this point, the hard steel becomes the sword's outer shell and sharp blade, while the tough steel forms the core of the katana. This perfect balance is what makes the katana one of the swordsman's most durable and valued weapons.
With the katana's body complete, the swordsman's work isn't finished. Just before heating the sword one last time, he applies a thick mixture of clay and charcoal powder to the upper sides and dull back edge of the blade, leaving the sharp front edge only lightly coated. This not only protects the blade but also creates its signature wavy design, called the hamon, which will become visible later during polishing. The swordsman then puts the katana back into the fire, heating it to just below 1,500°F; if it gets too hot, the sword might crack in the next step.
Next, he pulls the katana from the fire and quickly plunges it into a trough of water in a cooling process called "quenching." Since the sword's back edge and inner core have little carbon, they can contract freely compared to the high-carbon steel at the front edge of the blade. This difference in contraction rates causes the sword to bend, giving it that distinctive curve. This part is tricky; sometimes, up to one in three swords can be lost.
Once the katana is fully forged, it goes to a skilled sword polisher who may spend over two weeks sharpening its edge. He carefully polishes the blade with a series of grinding and polishing stones, some worth more than $1,000 each and passed down through generations. These tools, sometimes called "water stones," comprise hard silicate particles suspended in clay. As the clay wears away, more silicate particles are exposed, ensuring excellent polishing quality throughout the stone's life. Each set of polishing stones features finer silicate particles, removing less and less steel.
In the final stage, metalworkers attach a decorated guard made of iron or other metals at the sword's hilt. Then, carpenters fit the weapon with a lacquered wooden scabbard, embellished by artisans. The katana's handle, crafted from gold or exotic leathers and stones, is just as much a work of art as the blade itself. Finally, the katana is returned to the swordsman, who inspects the weapon one last time. It takes 15 men nearly six months to create this single katana sword. Even though it's fit for a swordsman, the weapon is likely to sell to art collectors for hundreds of thousands of dollars.
As the scene shifted to the dining hall filled with scrolls of papyrus, a man in simple robes opened the door, announcing the arrival of Sir Ulrich's guests. "Let them in," Ulrich said, not looking up from his papers. Harald, the red-haired man from before, alongside Runa, entered the dining hall.
"Sit down," Ulrich said, gesturing to the seats across from him. As everyone took their places, the same robed man returned, terror on his face. "A large group of shieldmaidens has entered Eddaheim and is asking for you."
"Let them in," Ulrich commanded.
Instantly after the door opened, Nia, Ash, Eleanor, Helga, Astrid, and Sophie stepped into the room. Upon seeing Ulrich, Helga rushed up and hugged him tightly. "How have you been?" Helga asked, excitement bubbling as she awaited his stories.
"I'll tell you later," Ulrich replied, patting her on the head.
*Is this really him? Ulrich Nolefstein? He isn't much older than us, yet he commands such power,* Nia thought to herself. Ulrich noticed her gaze and cleared his throat.
"Why don't we get started? The reason I brought you all here is that you are the founding members of the Empire of Rustania: Helga, Nia, Sophie, Ash, Eleanor, and Astrid."
The red-haired man and Runa looked shocked, while only Ulrich and Harald remained composed. Ash, after regaining her surprise, started to eye Ulrich suspiciously.
"Things are about to change," Ulrich said.
"Well, that's all I have to say. You're free to leave now."
As the red-haired man, Harald, Runa, Eleanor, Astrid, Ash, Helga, and Sophie stood up to depart, Nia remained seated.
"Eleanor, Astrid, Ash, Helga, and Sophie, leave us," Nia said, staring pointedly at Ulrich.
As Eleanor, Astrid, Ash, Helga, and Sophie exited and closed the door behind them, the room went quiet.
"What did you want to talk to me about?" Ulrich asked.
"What are your plans for my girls?" Nia demanded.
As the scene shifted, all the girls along with Harald pressed their ears to the door.
"Can you guys hear anything?" Helga asked, her voice barely a whisper.
Ash smacked Helga playfully on the back of the head. "Stop being so loud!"
Just then, they all tumbled backward as the door swung open, and Nia stepped out. Ash quickly rushed towards her. "What did he say?" she asked, her curiosity piqued.
"Leave me alone, Ash," Nia replied, visibly annoyed.
**Flashback:** Nia and Ulrich were sitting at a table. "I want to become the strongest and most powerful man in all the land, and I need your help to do it," Ulrich declared.
**End of Flashback.**
The scene shifted to Ulrich, who sat at the edge of a wooden dock, gazing out at the vast ocean. Harald approached and took a seat beside him, looking out at the water.
"What's wrong?" Harald asked, concern etched on his face.
Ulrich rested his chin on his hand, deep in thought. "We might not be able to raid England."
"Why not?" Harald inquired, puzzled.
"As I mentioned before, England is made up of seven kingdoms," Ulrich explained. "We have no way of knowing which one we'll land in, and we're uncertain about their relations with one another."
"Why does that matter?" Harald asked.
"If all the kingdoms have good relations, they could unite against us and wipe us out. We'll have to push our men so hard that some might not make it."
Harald shook his head slightly. "I think you can do it because you are Ulrich Nolefstein, Emperor of the Newly Founded Empire of Rustania."