These are a selection of exceprts from the journal of Maxwell Anderson, Scout Second class, North Division, Shield
March 20th, 2319 I seem to have crossed over my tracks again, no matter what direction I take I seem to be traveling in circles. Sometimes I'm not really sure if I actually am going in circles or I just think I am because it all looks the same, the snow blankets everything over in just a few short hours. My supplies are helping, god knows I would have frozen to death long ago if it wasn't for them, but the cold still makes me feel helpless, and the darkness is oppressive. I don't think it ever gets light here.
March 22nd, 2319 I have found other human tracks this morning, a lot of them, I don't think they are hunters, they would take more care to cover their trails, these were very apparent. Skirmishers then? I don't know what to think about that, it can't be shield, we've yet to establish a foothold this far north, its the whole reason they sent me up here. I have to find out who made them then; it could be bandits, or slavers, the commanders will want to know no matter who it is. ....Of course, that means I still have to find out where the hell I am so I can find my way back.
March 23rd, 2319 I made a trek up a nearby mountain today and I saw smoke rising from the valley floor, I couldn't make out much through the trees, but it looks like it was several miles away, I'm not sure what direction it was, but as far as I can tell it was due east; none of my positioning systems help, they're suffering too much interference, and the sun never rises enough for me to make a good call. I suppose soon enough I'll find out who made the tracks, sooner than I'd like I think.
March 24th, 2319 There was nothing left, I think it may have been a Marauders camp, it didn't look permanent in any case, but all the tents were torn down, there were no supplies left and all the machines had either been destroyed or simply shut down and left to freeze solid overnight. I found out what had made the smoke I saw, a huge pile of bodies, burnt to a crisp. I couldn't find any weapons, there weren't even broken ones, I assume they were burnt with the bodies and the rest were taken. I can't think of any slavers who wouldn't simply leave the bodies to rot, this seems like a lot of effort for the victors to go through. But I need to find somewhere to rest, I maybe able to make something out of the leftover tents. I noticed something about the tracks leaving the encampment, they are deeper, they're carrying a lot more than what they came with, so they can't be traveling fast, I should be able to catch up with them.
March 25th,2319 The tracks are getting fresher as I catch up with whoever is ahead, I'm able to travel faster since I'm not burdened with large amounts of equipment and food.
March 25th, 2319 I have found them at last, the outliers at first but I was soon able to catch up with them, although I had a tough time staying out of sight, but with their destruction of the camp they don't seem to be worrying about any reproach from the bandits, I suppose you've got to leave your enemies alive to suffer a counter attack. Although they don't seem to be that unhappy at all actually, at least compared to most post-skirmish soldiers, the horrors of warfare hasn't seemed to have affected them.
March 29th, 2319 They are very good at seemingly not noticing things around them. Apparently they had known about me following them since before they attacked the camp. They captured me on the night after I found them, but it was an odd capture to say the least, they waited until they knew that I had seen them before they attacked. I thought of running but I was exhausted from lack of sleep and food, so I get ready to go down, guns blazing. It didn't go well for me; I managed to shoot one as he got closer to me, hitting him square in the shoulder, his step barely faltered as the bullet struck, his speed increasing as he got nearer, he got to and knocked me out cold with a solid punch before I even got a second shot. I woke up, apparently, a couple of days later, in my captors base, but instead they treat me like a guest, but I'm most definitely a prisoner, their guards watch me constantly and carefully, all the while their soldiers slap me on the back, and making me consume huge quantities of food.
March 30th, 2319 I have managed to convince them that the Shield and I are not a threat to them, I even brought up the subject of an alliance, they would make bad enemies so best to be friends I thought, but their leader wasn't interested, although he didn't object either, like he didn't care about us as long as we stayed out of their way. I am being led back by two soldiers, back to the northern division HQ, I think the commanders will be interested in my report.
The vikings of the primal horizon world are an army that believes that relying too much on technology is a folly. They are not against technology, but they just prefer to put more reliance on their warriors. Wearing heavy furs over tough leather armour and metal reinforcements these modern survivors bare a great resemblance to the old vikings, however the replacement of large steel shields over wooden bucklers and the addition of weapons such as combat shotguns separate them from their ancestors.
While a warlike society, the vikings are still very interested in knowledge, trying to piece together the history of the event and the world that liese in ruins around them, but largely they have adopted the culture of the vikings to survive; tough fierce, well trained and loyal. They see battle as something celebratory and not to be feared, and if one of their comrades falls they will fight depserately to save their fellow warrior or protect his lifeless body from their enemies.
The vikings suffer from a lack of long range weaponry but do have access to some mid range weaponry such as shotguns, and flamers. They are very tough and with the their shields also providing cover they are hard to take down before they descend up troops fighting with skill and they swords, axes, hammers and other weaponry they carry with them.
_________________ The pen is mightier than the sword...and a lot easier to write with.