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Sixty-seven days after departing Flores Island in Europe’s westernmost waters, the schooner Heimdall and her stalwart crew has finally arrived at the mysterious Isla Socorro in the Revillagigedo Archipelagoes. The discoveries they make are astounding. Anders “the Norse” Vildarsen, a descendant from the original Viking voyage, joins the crew, and together they continue their search for the First Tribe of Rognvald’s. Along the way they resolve a conundrum about Gamelin’s Tempest Sword. They encounter the supreme Mortiken leader, Amalek Baaldur and the witch Krystal Blackeyes. They expose a shocking deception concerning King Agar’s son Magnus and the ancient assembly of Troth, and their on-going struggle against a ruthless enemy continues challenging them beyond their abilities.
Thankfully the weather conditions had been exceedingly complimentary on our crossing, allowing us to navigate tremendous distances swiftly and safely. Not once had we been exposed to the magnetic drought bands ravaging various areas on the planets surface.
The journey had been changing my life in profound ways, and was also demanding from me a mental discipline, and physical fortitude, I never knew I possessed. My life in Aberdeen Scotland as an intellect, with a doctorate in English literature, Scandinavian Mythology, and the Ancient Northern languages, had been child's play compared to the demanding life God had prearranged for me along with these steadfast Christian people aboard the schooner Heimdall. We had pledged before the Most High God, to retrace the Rognvald Vikings ancient route to the western coasts of America, in our search for the First Tribe.
In the early 1470’s, fifteen ninety-five foot wooden vessels, sanctioned by the beloved King Agar, and designed and constructed by the metallurgist, inventor, craftsman, Gamelin, departed the vast northern Scottish mainland, a small island in the Pentland Firth, and many of the southern Orkney Islands, to find new lands to raise their families in. They were eager to be detached from the rampaging and bloodthirsty Baaldurian’s. These were a wicked tribe separated from the original Viking nation by their choice to follow the antediluvian blood witchcrafts instead of Jesus Christ.
Part of our journey would require us presenting the First Tribe with the greatest symbol of Viking faith in the Holy Risen Christ ever created, the Tempest, a sword we had miraculously discovered diving at the Shallows of Three Rocks, north of Concello de Carino, in the Bay of Biscay. The presentation had to be accomplished before the day of many collisions, a foretold battle between the Rognvald and Baaldurian Viking tribes. According to the etchings on the Tempest, and innumerable ancient writings, this epoch confrontation was destined to occur on an island somewhere in southern Alaska. The inspiring inscription on the Tempest sword said it all, “Christ before all else”, and we had all made this ancient Viking mandate our daily proclamation as well. I never wondered anymore what I would do with my days; I was now part of a dedicated team, dependant on one another and the Holy Spirit to survive. Together we’d been given an extraordinary vision, and daily we prayerfully struggled to accomplish it.
Brisk salty air, the wind snugly held by large white sails, sunburned, bizarre circumstances, extraordinary people, bone tired, having our lives threatened, and confined for weeks at a time on a beautifully constructed, three masted, one hundred and twenty foot computerized schooner, was now my life as well as my crewmates, and we were living it with passion. Our adventures thus far had challenged us well beyond our personal capabilities, and at times we all struggled piteously with hopelessness and fear. Still though we were resolute, and our faith was strong in what Christ was doing in our lives. We all understood that being together and prayerfully focused, that we would continue unraveling, and solving, many ancient and remarkable mysteries.
“Together and wretched we sail the raging unknown to find destinies embrace and complete the vision in honor to our great king.”
An unknown Rognvald scribe