Chapter Text
This translation is funded by the Barbaric Archipelago Historical Society, with thanks provided to C.C, Lost Languages Expert, who is responsible for deciphering the script of Old Norse used in this journal.
This journal belongs to Bigjob, Chief of the Hysteric Tribe. Anyone who is NOT Bigjob who is caught possessing this will be promptly executed.
November 6th, 995 AD (Note: find out what "AD" means. I keep finding it as a date marker in pilfered books)
I have recently stolen this bound, empty leather book from a Peaceable merchant. As with all books, I intended to hide it FAR AWAY from any annoying Meatheads who would stick it in their library. Upon opening this, however, I realized that it was empty. As such, I intend to use it as a Journal of Discovery and Exploration.
November 9th, 995 AD
Openly mocked at The Thing for believing that the world is as round as an orange. I swear on every hair in Thor's beard, I am going to prove it to these numbskulls, even if it is the last thing I ever do.
November 14th, 995 AD
Today, the tribe and I followed a lead from a while back relating to the location of one of Grimbeard's Treasure Hoards hidden in the caves on the south shore of The Isle of Mystery. To my surprise, we found it! Going to explore it tomorrow.
November 15th, 995 AD
Upon our entry into Grimbeard's Treasure Hoard, we were viciously attacked by a furious pack of four Primeval Bullguards, their ancestors likely placed there by Grimbeard to guard his treasure. Typically, the average Bullguard Slavedragon is a powerful and loyal ten-eyed dragon with the bite force of a crocodile, armor of a turtle, and firepower of an erupting volcano. However, they are particularly unintelligent creatures, having been selectively bred over generations to have the bare minimum cognitive ability. That is exactly why we Hysterics never use them. A TRUE Hysteric would never consider using a dragon for anything unless it is equal to them in both intelligence and raw lunacy.
Primeval Bullguards, in comparison, are very similar to their domesticated (if you can call it that) counterparts, except for the fact that they are twice as violent, and thrice as deadly. Unprepared, me and my men were driven out of the cave. As of now, the treasure may be impos
Never mind. I just thought of the greatest plan.
November 16th, 995 AD
The plan worked like a charm for how simple it was: Eat a great feast just outside the mouth of the now-unsealed cavern.
The dragons watched us consume the meat, bread, and beer. They were likely born in that cave, the only light coming from the bright glowing moss, Electrisquirms, and small holes in the rock. They had clearly never had the feasts they were born to have, but deep in their bones, they must have known what they were meant for.
Primeval Bulldragons, being more intelligent than their breeding-lobotomized cousins, have the mental capacity to understand things such as mutually beneficial alliances, and as such, slowly slunk out of the cavern. The largest of them, who I could only assume to be the eldest brother, spread his wings and flew up into the sky, firing a burst of fire at a bird with pinpoint accuracy, before catching it in his jaws and delivering it before me. As soon as he laid the charred raven before me, he bowed his head and closed all ten of his eyes in a show of fealty.
I smirked. I have never had a riding dragon before, but my first thought was "now THIS is a dragon I can work with."
I have named him Thunderer. His other siblings did not stay around with us, preferring to take their freedom from the caves rather than join us.
With the Hoard unguarded, we ventured into it- only to find it nearly empty save for a few spare coins.
The rest of my tribesmen were furious, and ran off to go take their anger out on any unfortunate small animals in the vicinity.
But I got exactly what I came for.
Hidden below one of Grimbeard's many less-than-stellar extra swords that he didn't feel the need to take with him on the Endless Journey, I found the very top of a small chest. Not something you would use to store a sword or a shield or anything an ordinary Viking might think of as valuable. It was too small to even hold a decent amount of gold. But the moment I found it and lifted it up to my ear, I knew it contained one of- if not the most powerful artifact of the Last King of the Wilderwest.
The chest was locked with the most complicated locks the world has ever seen. But usually, locks become a moot point when you are a Hysteric. I had brought the Master Key with me- one of our tribe's greatest works. While unassuming, it is perfectly designed to open most, if not all locking mechanisms.
Tragically, it seems that Grimbeard knew about this key, and designed his lock to counter it.
He probably should've worried more about designing his chest to be impervious to blades, because with a few swipes of the Sword of Fate (name still being workshopped), I held in my hands the item I've been searching for since the day I became Chief.
The Ticking-Thing belongs to the Hysteric Tribe now.
November 24th, 995 AD
The Ticking-Thing is truly an amazing device. I have been experimenting on it for the past week and drawing up my findings. (Translator's Note: The diagrams have not yet been translated, and are too smudged to convey any information clearly anyways.)
But for the sake of consistency and having everything in one place, I will list all my findings on this page.
Ordinary-Looking Arrows:
The two Ordinary-Looking Arrows seem to tell the time. As far as I can guess, they split the day into 24-hour periods like in Egypt. However, the hours seem to take up a set amount of time, like some Islamic books I have read and (badly) translated. This is going to be very useful.
Short Fat Arrow:
Always points north, like a Chinese compass. I would be grateful for it if I hadn't already learned how to replicate compasses. As it stands now, this arrow only takes up space.
Arrow-With-A-Circle-On-The-End:
Lie Detector. Spins like crazy when the person holding it lies. I have absolutely no idea how it does this. Must investigate further. May imply that the Ticking-Thing is made of a metal other than iron, if this arrow's properties are magical in origin.
Lightning-Bolt Arrow:
Seemingly spins around when near storms, particularly strong dragons, or, oddly enough, for a few seconds when you hold it after rubbing wool together.
Question-Mark-Arrow, and Crown-Surrounded-By-Fire-Arrow:
Even more useless than the compass arrow. Both of these point in completely arbitrary directions and get in the way of the useful arrows.
Other Functions:
The dials on the side of the TIcking-Thing can be used to set a very precise timer, down to the second. However, the music that plays when the time ends is the Hooligan National Anthem. I do not think I will use this function very much.
The Most Valuable Arrows:
These arrows both calculate one important thing- distance from equator and distance from a set point (that I have determined to be Hero's End). The measurements are finicky and hard to get down, but after some trial and error, I can simply check the Ticking-Thing's outer layer and know exactly where in the world I am.
This is exactly what I need to prove once and for all that the world is indeed round as an orange.
November 31st, 995 AD
The plan is set. Most of my fellow Hysterics have agreed on it. I have begun to prepare a course.
The concept is simple: We either circumnavigate the world or find a new landmass. I have a hunch that we'll end up with the second option.
The only problem is transport- we need a boat big enough to carry us- and our dragons.
December 5th, 995 AD
Progress on the unnamed ship has hit a roadblock. To build such a large ship, we need massive amounts of wood. While Hysteria has forests, I fear that the amount of wood required would leave our island rather... bald.
I have a much more intelligent (and insane) plan to get the wood we need- one that will only require cutting down one tree.
We are going to take a tree from Berserk.
December 7th, 995 AD
Slight issue with getting even one tree from Berserk: Norbert exists. I brought him on the Mission-To-Steal-The-Tree-From-Berserk to show him how to be a leader. Unfortunately, he has yet to strike the balance between genius and madness characteristic of a great Hysteric. As he stands, he does not carry himself with the air of a Hysteric- more like a Visithug or Bashem-Oik. For example, today he caused such a ruckus yelling at the boys for chopping inefficiently that the Berserks were alerted to our presence, and we were captured.
I am currently being held in a Berserk prison (apparently the Uglithugs still have it out for the tribe) which has bought me time until Dead-Of-Night to break everyone out. If only there were a
Oh the Master Key works on the cages.
Update: we escaped. Hopefully we can finish cutting this tree down before they notice we're gone.
December 8th, 995 AD
Got the tree. Too tired to write anything else.
December 18th, 995 AD
Ten days. It took TEN DAYS just to cut up the massive tree into manageable lumber. This is going to be a terrifying endeavor.
December 22nd, 995 AD
Progress is slow as ever. I have had to revisit the ship plans again and again. A longship design is just impractical at this size. I'm going to have to blend it with Trireme elements if I want it to move anywhere.
January 7th, 996 AD
The hull is finished. That's the hard part done with. Norbert is actually pulling his weight on the project. He's suggested several modifications to make the ship better, including an experimental engine design as the main propulsion system. I'll look into it.
January 15th, 995 AD
As much as I like my son's engine design... it's impractical. The resources and precision required would surely take years to perfect- and we need to get the boat on the water by the beginning of spring or we'll have no chance of making it anywhere. It was hard to tell Norbert, but he seems to be taking it in stride. In fact, it seems to have encouraged him to be even more productive- but also more aggressive.
January 26th, 995 AD
Progress on the rest of the boat is going smoothly. Oars are in place, and provisions are being stored. The roster of passengers is being selected. If we're lucky, we should be finished by early February.
February 6th, 995 AD
The boat is officially finished. All that's left is to stock it up with supplies and wait for spring to come.
Now that it's finished, I think it deserves a name.
I have heard prophecies whispered of a Land-That-Does-Not-Exist, filled with riches, miracle vegetables, and grapevines aplenty.
This whispered land that I hope to find, a land of endless resources and wine... Vinland.
That is the name this boat shall take.
When the ice melts, The Vinlandic Dream will set off the shores of Hysteria.