After the feast concluded, Erik threw himself into forging his Warband into a disciplined force. Or rather, as disciplined as he could make them.

The 1.000 Marauders were first divided into teams of ten. Five teams then made a unit of 50 men. The Marauders were allowed to determine their own leaders for the teams, but Erik personally picked and appointed the unit Captains.

Why units of five teams? Otherwise Erik would have had to demote some of his loyal Captains, risking a sharp decrease in morale and loyalty. Besides, having units of 50 men provided more flexibility and made it easier for the men to bond.

The now organised men were then thrown into a cycle of physical training and competition. The aim being to strengthen their bodies, increase their sense of brotherhood and instil the awareness that winning comes first and that gloriously dying needlessly was dishonourable to the extreme.

Erik spent a lot of time, effort and resources on this two-week project, so it was important to see results. He didn’t want to train up warriors to a higher level and then watch them leave his Warband after a single Raid. No, Erik wanted them to belong to his Warband and repay his investment many fold over.

Luckily, the competitiveness of the Norscan mind and their incredibly sturdy bodies proved amenable to Erik’s approach. Minor, friendly, rivalries sprouted between the units and a sense of brotherhood could be found at the open-air dinners Erik expensively hosted every night on his estate.

‘I can now see why father wants me to stay close to Erik, learn from him and follow him... He took a rabble of young, headstrong warriors and united them in a way only seen in the Warbands that have been together for decades!’ – Sven silently admired this brother-in-law of his and swore to himself to not let Erik down.

‘The Gods truly are impeccable! Erik is a true Champion of the Ruinous Powers to the core! Vicious yet honourable, cunning yet straightforward! He even grabbed the hearts of those pseudo-Huskarls of mine by throwing them into the dirt in an honest contest of strength, simultaneously showing off his might to the young’uns to tell them he is their Chief. Not to mention his insight in the Magic arts grows deeper by the day and yet he also did not rush to learn spells, choosing to carefully take his time.’ – Scaldar too was increasingly enamoured by the Champion he watched over ever since he descended upon their tribe, reminiscing about his own brash past self and then comparing that past-him to Erik. The disparity between the two was vast and with a feeling of dreadful anticipation, Scaldar wished to see the heights Erik would undoubtedly reach.

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Of course Erik did not neglect to spend time with his family and pets. He showered Sigrun and Isabeau with affection and filled them up to bursting with intimacy. Sigrun was still a little down from her condition and Isabeau would need a close ‘sister’ while Erik was away.

And while Erik remained civil and cordial towards Ri & Ra, a hint of coldness lay hidden in his eyes. If the two weren’t pregnant with his children, he’d have no qualms throwing them out on the street.

After the feast, the two had coquettishly approached him. Disregarding the safety of their unborn children, they brazenly invited Erik to make love to them and Erik had in fact been tempted. But when he was about to give in, lust clouding his better judgement about his children’s safety, one of the twins whispered in his ear:

“Husband, why not make Olaf a Captain? He is older than you, more experienced. He’s a better fit than Sven, right?”

First of all, Erik was only husband to 1 woman. Skadi called him dear, Tykira called him master, Isabeau either called him by name or provocatively called him brute and Kitten just adorably rubbed her head against him when she wanted attention.

Second, if there was one thing Erik loathed, it was nepotism. Sven had more than proven himself as a capable fighter and commander during the Winter Hunt while what Erik had seen from Olaf’s behaviour did not impress him. Olaf hadn’t participated in his year’s Winter Hunt nor had he made any notable achievements or contributions since becoming a new-blood Marauder. He could even be considered sub-par as a fighter and always lagged behind in his team during training.

And finally, while the two thought it was cleverly hidden, Erik nonetheless was very aware of their continued misconduct within the household. Arrogantly ordering thralls around, even those that personally belonged to Erik’s other women. They even used his name to enter the warehouse and steal a small coffer of valuables, some of which they subtly moved into Olaf’s hands to show off and attempt to buy his way into becoming a team-leader.

Luckily, Sigrun had steeled herself against their behaviour but still voiced her desire to silence the two gold-digging good-for-nothings. And Erik agreed.

“I don’t want their children harmed. They are innocent and carry my blood after all. Let’s just wait till they are born before you can deal with the mothers as you see fit.

Haha, maybe visit your mother some more, together with Skadi, and plan things out? Might lift your spirits while I’m away!”

This conversation took place the night before Erik would set sail for Marienburg. Due to the situation of his main bedroom, Erik had repurposed part of the Shrine to Slaanesh. A new bed was placed in there on which Erik contently lay with Sigrun in one arm and Isabeau on the other.

They spoke in Norscan, so Isabeau discontentedly and impatiently waited to be included in the conversation, but instead Erik just gave her ass a hard slap to which she responded with lewd moans as a desperate need took over her face.

Sighing, Erik prepared for another round of rough-housing with the increasingly masochistic former-Comtesse when he suddenly remembered an important detail he had to share with Sigrun.

“Ah right, before I forget: I’ll be summoning Skadi every other day or so. That way we can stay in touch even when I’m an ocean away.”

Perhaps a bit short, but it got the message across so Sigrun wouldn’t panic again when Skadi suddenly disappeared.

Sigrun nodded she understood as she limply lay to the side, already having received plenty of Erik’s affections that night and taking this opportunity to rest a little before she threw herself into the unwinnable battle once more.

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The next day the Frost Wolf fleet once more left the safety of their harbour. Some went straight south, towards the coast of Nordland. Others decided to follow the coast due west and intended to go whaling. Others, like Erik decided to cross the same waters when they headed for Couronne but along the way each ship slightly changed their course to navigate to their individual targets.

The male King Ice Wolves, Geri & Freki, joyfully frolicked around on the massive Dragonship’s deck. Since there was no necessity to save as much space as possible, Erik decided to bring them along as either good company or to be used in a fight.

The ship’s hold also wasn’t empty, Erik had informed his men of their destination and everyone had brought stuff to be traded or sold at Marienburg. Erik too had taken tradeable goods along, as well as a large amount of gold and silver.

Furs, amber & other precious gems, whale fat & bone and rare ambergris made up the bulk of the merchandise. Stuff that was quite easily obtained in Norsca but was undoubtedly rare in the markets of Southerners.

Ice Wolf pelts for example would be an incredible luxury item for the aristocracy due to its insulating and cooling properties. Whether it be the heat of summer or cold of winter, a coat made of Ice Wolf fur was sure to keep its wearer at a comfortable temperature.

Lucky for Erik, Scaldar had also brought his navigator along. Otherwise it would be hard for Erik to even make it out of the Frost Wolf harbour, which would have been an inglorious start to his first true independent command.

By now, after a day of sailing, only a distant shadow could be seen of the last Wolfship to leave Erik’s side.

They were now alone on the water and the seas were theirs to sail and harrow as they saw fit. A triangular blue flag emblazoned with a red-eyed, white wolf fluttered atop the main mast, denoting their Frost Wolf identity. And the beautifully carved dragonhead had been taken down from the prow, telling any ships they encountered they weren’t out to raid and pillage but to barter and trade.

Of course, if a lone ship was foolish enough to wander too close without proper protection, Erik had no qualms snatching it up. There were no laws out at sea, the sole exception being the rules set on board the ships.

On multiple occasions the look-out spotted singular ships, but before Erik could have the massive ship turned around, a second cry went up to inform it was a convoy rather than a loner.

As the days went on, traffic began to increase to the point there would always be some ships visible on the horizon. These were all Southerner vessels, either from the Empire or Marienbrug, and armed with deadly cannons. None strayed within firing distance though as they all avoided the obviously Norscan ship like a deadly plague.

Early on the third day at sea however, two equally large warships did approach Erik’s Dragonship and blocked their path. Presenting their broadsides, the Marienburg Fluyts gave a clear message: STOP!

Expecting something like this to happen, Erik obeyed and prepared for his first friendly contact with Southerners.