The Last Vikings The epic story of the norse voyagers
Kirsten A. Seaver
English | 2010 | ISBN: 1845118693 | 288 pages |
Late in the tenth century, the Norse Vikings embarked on a voyage of no return. Leaving Iceland first for Greenland, from there they sailed onwards to North America, setting foot on its shores five hundred years before Columbus's first journeys of discovery. But by about AD 1500 their settlements were abandoned and the Norse Greenlanders and their explorations of the New World receded into the realms of myth. What happened between these momentous events? How did the Vikings really live -- and die -- and why have so many myths and legends grown up around this mysterious people of the sea?
Drawing on her deep knowledge of the culture and history of the region as well as the most up-to-date evidence from archaeology, medieval history and the evocative Sagas, Seaver weaves together a compelling and authoritative history. Alongside their spectacular achievements and discoveries, she also vividly evokes the last Vikings daily lives and explains why their apparent departure from Greenland in 1500 was not quite such a dramatic schism in the historical record as is often assumed. This compelling history of a people living at the fringes of the known world offers an illuminating entree into the world of the Norse Greenlanders which will captivate all who have ever wondered about the fate of the Vikings and will stand as the definitive work for years to come.
Morten Bryld - Vocals, Martin W. Jensen - Guitar, Carlos G.R. - Guitar, Morten Kristiansen - Bass, Danny Svendsen - Keys, Mikkel Køster - Drums
Sworn to Vengeance A ship arrived this morning A messenger clad in black Bearing tidings oh so grave Of my brother’s untimely demise
I stand at the bow of my ship I must set things right My men are all behind me Honour-bound to fight
I feel a great rage within This is no time to mourn Blood is surging through me To vengeance I am sworn
We have left shallow waters The open sea lies ahead When we reach the southern coast We stare into the face of death
And though some may crumble As death stares right back My determination cannot falter I will sound the final attack
A crimson sun on the horizon The air is freezing cold My heart is pounding And in anger I clench my fists
We take to the oars to make it in time Before the enemy has moved on The shadow of grief weighs me down But I will forever push on
We’ve picked up a fresh trail They cannot be far ahead When we find those wretched knaves Our swords will taste their blood
My men follow me without hesitation Into the lands of the enemy Out of the ashes, into the fire We shall end their sorry lives
The enemy approaches from the south It’s time to meet them head on And as we make our way into a clearing Arrows soar and battle is joined
[Solo: Carlos G.R.]
The enemy is upon us Ferociously they fight Flailing swords and axes We defend against their might
I feel a great rage within This is no time to mourn Blood is surging through me To vengeance I am sworn
We must hold on We can’t fall back Fighting to gain the upper hand We strike them hard We fight with skill Slaying our way to victory
We must hold on We can’t fall back No swordsman unchallenged We strike them hard We fight with skill Slaying our way to victory
I fight my way to their leader His blood will be mine I raise my sword for the final strike My hand guided by the divines
I feel a great rage within This is no time to mourn Blood is surging through me To vengeance I am sworn
Kinsmen
In the sky a jet-black raven flies And deep below you can hear the cries Of ancient warriors locked in battle Swords strike hard and armours rattle
The old gods watch from mountains high As brothers draw their last breath and die They were too bold, they did not know The dangers their final battle would hold
So ride, now proudly into battle my friend The time has come to die for your kinsmen
Kneeling down, their brothers pray That from their chosen path they will not stray To the golden halls, their final resting place They ride to fulfil their destiny
Armies are sent into battle Endless wars for gold and glory Thousands sacrifice their lives At the behest of their kings
Silhouettes of ghostly warriors Wander forever on a road to nowhere They did not find their way To the ancestral halls
Kneeling down, their brothers pray That from their chosen path they will not stray To the golden halls, their final resting place They ride to fulfil their destiny
Silhouettes of ghostly warriors They died for a cause not their own Corrupted, abandoned, defeated No skalds shall tell their tales
In the sky a jet-black raven flies And deep below you can hear the cries No fires illuminate the endless night Death is theirs, unless they fight
The old gods watch from mountains high As brothers draw their last breath and die To fight for the king is their only life To battle, to battle, this could be the last stride
[Solo: M. W. Jensen]
Death is like an infinite dream So embrace the final sleep Fight at your kinsman’s side The time has come to die
Twelve Berserks
Twelve were the berserks Sons of Arngrim Born in the northlands Where wolves roam Great fear they spread Where they came Strongest of them Was mighty Angantyr
Hjorvard was one of twelve He swore that he would have The daughter of king Ingjald For her beauty and skill she was renowned
Twelve were the berserks Sons of Arngrim Born in the northlands Where wolves roam Great fear they spread Where they came
To the realm of king Ingjald The twelve brothers went And before the king’s table Hjorvard spoke these words: “Far I have come, lord Ingjald An oath I have sworn That I will have your daughter Or no other woman”
Two men were there with Ingjald Hjalmar and his companion Od Hjalmar had heard Hjorvard’s speech And these words he spoke to the king: “Do you remember, my lord How I have served you all these years? The battles I have won for you? I deserve your daughter!”
Hjorvard was immensely angered by these words He stood up and challenged Hjalmar to holmgang
Hjalmar accepted the challenge They agreed to meet on a far-away island This duel would decide Who was to have the king’s daughter
Twelve were the berserks Sons of Arngrim Born in the northlands Where wolves roam Great fear they spread Where they came
Forfædres kald
Føl havets vinde rase Mærk stormens kolde favntag Vi sejler mod nye kyster Forfædres kald gjalder fra det høje
Langskibe prydet med dragehalse Sejler stolte fra havn!
Det mægtige hav vi trodser Vor dødsforagt uden lige Navigerer efter stjernehimmel For nyt land at finde Hvor vor rejse ende vil Ved kun skæbnens gudinder
Bølgerne går højere og højere Kaster vore skibe mod klipperne
Havet har ført os til en ukendt kyst Brødre vi mistede til Ægirs luner Vi har fundet nyt land Hvor træer står frodige Snedækkede fjelde knejser Så lang øjet rækker
Vi har mistet vore skibe, men ej vort håb Så længe Njords vind blæser ufortrødent
Synger en hymne til moder natur Hun hvorfra alt smukt udspringer Eviggrøn og frodig asken står Skal i mands minde aldrig visne
Hvo som sine forfædre ære vil Må fatte sværd fra gamle tider
Forfædres kald gjalder fra det høje! Det genlyder i dale og mellem bjergenes tinder!
Deeply rooted in tradition, Ofärd (pronounced approx. /ooh-færd/) is an innovative Scandinavian Folk Metal project that came to life in the ancient wilderness of Öland in 2011.
With lyrics based on nature, folklore, cultural heritage and factual episodes and legends from the Scandinavian megalithic antiquity, bronze age, vendel age and viking age, Ofärd intends to give a new dimension to folk metal.
The cover illustrates a Völva (an alleged seer and practicant of sejd)
holding a staff that resembles the Viking Age artifact
found in Klinta, Öland, in 1957.
The raised stones and surrounding nature capture the essence
of the typical cultural landscape seen in Southern Öland.
The original painting was made by contemporary artist Martin Enrique Pelozo especially for this single. Layout and complementary artwork by Segersäll and Morten Gråfäll.
Recorded during May/June 2012 at Gråborg Studios and La Nave de Oseberg Studios.
Sound producer: Rodrigo Gudiña.
Recording engineers: Jorge Perini and Rodrigo Gudiña.
Mix and mastering: Sebastián Manta.
Loops used in Völvans Spådom by Jens Engelbrecht and Peo Drangert (“Scandinavian Roots Vol. 1”)
In case you wondered, Ofärd do not believe in politics, fundamentalism, religious or racial intolerance, or any other kind of narrow-minded behaviour. They believe in Nature, Music and the strong bonds that unite lovers, family and brethren.
No folk instruments were harmed during the recording of this single!
Ofärd are:
Segersäll: Vocals, guitars, Irish bouzouki, jaw's harp, hurdy-gurdy, månmarkapipa, shawm, hulusi, tin whistle and duduk.
Morten Gråfäll: Nyckelharpa, säckpipa and programming.
Guest artists:
Matias Taubas Oyola: Bass.
Pablo Taubas Oyola: Drums.
Pablo Monteys: Soprano and Alto sax.
Johanna Ribnikov Gunnarsson: Backing vocals and Völva interpretation.
At the roots of the nine known worlds, where the shadow of the Tree becomes one with the Abyss, Grimnir stands ready. The roar of the underground rivers is defeaning but the Masked One cares not. Never before did he speak in vain and nor shall he now. For his is the knowledge of the words of power and it is in him to know how mightily, how high they should be sung. She sleeps in the mist, in the eternal veil of those whom the earthly element had claimed. She is gone and yet there she lies.
The truth is Grimnir needs her, as the crows needs the carrion, as a woman needs a man's seed, so does the Hanged One need his sejdkona. Thus he sings for her. And when the echo of his galdr dies out, the burial mounds are all light and carcass and spirit become one. She is here, she is now with us. Thus, she opens her dead eyes and begins her own song of vision and delusion
Music by Morten Gråfäll. Arranged by Mårten Gråfãll and Segersäll.
Words in Old Icelandic by Segersæll.
War Of Ragnarok Intro - Theme by Ofärd
At the roots of the nine known worlds, where the shadow of the Tree becomes one with the Abyss, Grimnir stands ready. The roar of the underground rivers is defeaning but the Masked One cares not. Never before did he speak in vain and nor shall he now. For his is the knowledge of the words of power and it is in him to know how mightily, how high they should be sung. She sleeps in the mist, in the eternal veil of those whom the earthly element had claimed. She is gone and yet there she lies.
The truth is Grimnir needs her, as the crows needs the carrion, as a woman needs a man's seed, so does the Hanged One need his sejdkona. Thus he sings for her. And when the echo of his galdr dies out, the burial mounds are all light and carcass and spirit become one. She is here, she is now with us. Thus, she opens her dead eyes and begins her own song of vision and delusion.
Music created by Sergio Ribnikov Gunnarsson and Mårten Gråfäll.
Words in Old Icelandic by Segersæll. The Swedish text is loosely based on Erik Brate's rendition of Völuspá.
From Words from the Dead by Ofärd, Scandinavian Folk Metal
Released 01 July 2012
