I opened my eyes. I didn't know where I was but something attacked my face as I was rising up. I jerked my head back, sitting cross-legged on the ground. The trees covered my body some. The leaves of the trees were slightly wet. I felt weak but I couldn't tell exactly how weak I was. I was wearing a full set of body armor plate, and a woolen tunic. I had a sword with a wooden handle; the kind that Vikings used back then. I had a metal helmet on my head and a steelpointed weapon in my hand. I didn't know how I got there or how long I had been here, but I had managed to survive.
I tried to think of what I should do next, but my mind was blank. Then I remembered what was on the boat. What to do about the men? So, I decided to follow my gut instincts. I walked around the camp for a bit. I found my men. They were all on the ground and there was a large hole in the centre of their skulls. It was obviously a hasty burial by the attackers.
I called out to the villagers, but no one answered. I walked toward the village and I saw ghostly figures in the village. I had watched Viking ghost stories back on Earth before. But now I was looking at the real thing. I knew they were the spirits of the dead. They were in Viking fighting armor. They were fighting each other. Some of them were just shooting bows and arrows at each other. I was confused, they were ghosts and they were fighting each other. Nobody was fighting back. They were all bare chested and didn't use shields.
I screamed at them; an expression of my pain, frustration and anger.
"Why are you fighting? Why did they have to die?" I called at them.
But they ignored me. They just kept fighting each other. I began to pull my own sword and then I heard something sharp cutting through the air. Suddenly, everyone stopped fighting and turned to look at me. The ghosts, hands on swords, were standing in front of me, staring at me.
I blocked their attacks using my own weapon and then disarmed them. I took their weapons and I kicked them in the groin. I snapped their necks and then stomped their bodies. I kicked their heads off their bodies. After the last one, I too was left standing in the middle of the village. I looked around me. There were bodies everywhere and the air was heavy with the smell of blood and flax. I was angry and frustrated. I was angry at the attackers for killing my men and I was frustrated by the dead. They were pathologically violent and they were holding me back from rescuing my people and avenging their deaths.
I walked back to the ocean and I gathered wood. I interacted with the camp and I built a raft. I took all the bodies aboard then I set sail. I found a couple of maps. I used landmarks to figure out where I was, and I was taken by surprise. I was very far from the Viking lands. I was in uncharted lands. My ship had been thrown off by the storm.
I sailed the ship for hours and weeks. My hands were blistered from holding the oar, but I kept going. Then we landed. I stepped off the ship. I took one last look around the island. I noted that there weren't any trees on the island. It was almost entirely grass. I saw a large plain. A wide plain with no obstacles. I took out my sword and I hacked a hole in the ground. I found a tree branch and I poked the soil.