Chapter 1 - Ragnarök

The skies of the realm of Helheim were constantly filled with dark storm clouds. Relentlessly raining down lightning and thunder onto the desolate desert of ice and snow. Showering it without pause with thick and heavy snow that would never melt on its own.

But should one pass through the clouds and come out on top, they would see a crystal clear sky of pure white, with the top of ice blue clouds, like an endless winter ocean.

Sailing on this ocean an observer would have been able to see a magnificent ship. Its figurehead was an Octopus who held up the bowsprit, his tentacles flowing down almost the entirety of the ship. It had five enormous masts, each adorned with blue sails. If one looked closely on the rear there were several blue magical circles visible that were submerged in the clouds.

Both on the blue sails as well as on the flag hoisted upon each mast, there was the symbol of a cutlass stuck inside a seashell. This was the Emblem of Ygdrasils 7th most successful Traderguild, 'Sailing Survivors'.

'Sailing Survivors' was a guild that had been founded by a single player who had maintained it for all of its twelve years. What was even more impressive was that 'Sailing Survivors' possessed one of only 43 mobile Guild Bases in all of Ygdrasil.

On the deck of the ship stood a magnificent crew, consisting of all sorts of Races. Ranging from undead to humans. From water spirits to sea witches. All of them had two facts in common, first, they were all dressed in a manner that made them seem like historical seafarers or pirates. Secondly, they were all merely NPCs created by the same Player.

At the Helm of the ship stood the only conscious being of the ship. A seemingly humanoid individual, with grey hair and a luscious beard that reached down to his stomach. A grizzled Face with Emerald green eyes that, despite having no wrinkles showed old age. He stood nearly 8 feet tall in his black Admiral Coat, only his right arm was inside his sleeve, whereas the other was just a mass of 9 tentacles. On his hip hung a cutlass, appropriate for his size. This was the Leader and only Member of 'Sailing Survivors', Bill Grayhate.

Bill was old, one of the oldest people on earth right now. With his age of 121, he was even old enough to have been alive before the world became the polluted ball of poison it now was. He had been successful enough back then to start a company that survived the wars as well as the increasing pollution. He even gained favor with one of the Mega-Corporations, who eventually bought his company and left him in charge, securing him enough income for him to be able to live this long.

Of course, he had long retired, but his pension was still quite a large sum. And at some point, he had discovered the DMMORPG Ygdrasil, which then had become his major form of passing the time. It was also there that an old passion of his was reignited that he had to give up quite some time ago. That passion was sailing.

With that in mind and using his skills of a successful merchant in his real life he founded his guild 'Sailing Survivors' and eventually built his ship and Guild Base 'The Survivor'. It was a ship that was able to sail anywhere. At sea, at land, in the skies, beneath the sea and even through the most desolated desert. It was his masterpiece.

He looked down at the crew he had made himself, he had carefully constructed each of their backstories. That eventually led to him picking them up as their ship crashed allowing them to continue sailing. And today all of that was coming to an end, he had done everything in his might to stop the game from ending. He had donated money to the developing firm, supported them publicly. But eventually, there was nothing he could do anymore since he did not own the money to keep the servers running on his own.

He looked at the last twelve years of his life, he decided like so often he would now give one final speech.

"Men. Today will be our last day. It will be our last voyage, our voyage to Valhalla. For today is Ragnarök, the end of Ygdrasil and all its Realms. For the last twelve years, we have sailed every corner of this Reality and now it has come to its end. But fear not, for after Ragnarök we will sail the Realm of Valhalla. Be it sky, sea, or land, Be it hostile or not. Nothing will stop us. For we are the Sailing Survivors." With those words, he drew his Cutlass, the Guild Weapon |Traders Tongue|.

"So I ask you. Will you sail with?"

In perfect Unison the NPCs raised their arms and all played an audio file, just as he had programmed. "AYE CAPTAIN!"


"Then we will now face Ragnarök!"


I'm sure there is some other Dive Game that I can use to sail again. But this was really great. He closed his eyes.



Thunder boomed through the air as he felt heavy rain on his face. What? He opened his eyes and saw the sea, they were in the midst of a raging storm. The ship shook as it was hit by an enormous wave. What is going on? This was all too realistic he didn't even notice that the crew was looking around in confusion, talking amongst each other.

As he took a deep breath to calm himself down he smelled something he thought he would never smell again. Fresh salty marine air. His eyes widened. Did he die? How could he breathe the air without a mask or his artificial lungs?

Then he became aware of his crew. Of their independence, the fact that they seemed to be alive. At this moment he decided that it didn't matter if this was reality or not. If he was alive or dead. He embraced it. He had the chance to sail a treacherous ocean amidst a storm with the crew he so painstakingly created.

He went behind the helm and shouted his commands. "Reel in the sails. Secure the cargo. Close the gunports, I don't want the Survivor taking in water."

He was not sure if his voice had reached them when from his left he heard a booming voice repeating his commands. As he turned his head he saw the NPC he had assigned to be his First Mate, Ol'Shacklegear. He was a 10 feet tall golem crafted in the image of steampunk. Two massive pipes protruding from his back constantly huffing out hot steam. Cogs being visible all over his exposed body, turning at varying velocities, valves releasing or building up pressure resulting in liquids being pumped through tubes.

I really do hope this is real. And even if this is just a dream while I am dying, this is not a bad way to go.

He suddenly heard the voice of a boy reaching down from the crow's nest. "Captain. There is a shipwreck at 11 o'clock. I see several people still on board. They are 3 miles away."

Then let's do what the lore of the ship dictates.

"Bulmir, you heard him. Get ready for Maritime Rescue. I want full throttle ahead." He turned the helm to face the direction Plihg had told him.


After a short time, he was able to see the ship. It had been a small ship with only two masts, it was already half-submerged in the water, one of the masts was burning and split in two as if lightning had hit it.

"On Bulmirs sign full-throttle backward."


"Aye!" the firm but slightly gurgling voice of the seafolk could be heard across the ship. He leaned over the rail and raised his arm over his head.

After a few moments, his arm shot downwards, without waiting for anything he and his team jumped overboard ropes in hand.


Shortly after they could see the first people being pulled on deck. Three of them immediately caught this attention. One was a blonde boy in shining armor, seemingly unconscious. Another one was a girl in a once probably elaborate dress that was now dirty, wet, and torn. And the third was a man of at least 6 feet, with a muscular build and simple armor.

"Rigla, get them below deck. Once their leader is in a condition to talk bring her into my cabin and tell me. Full throttle ahead."


Shortly after they resumed their voyage he could see Bulmir and his team emerging from one of the entrances to the lower decks.

{Captain, the princess is ready to receive you and waits in your cabin.} a raspy old female voice suddenly said in his head.

{Thank you Rigla.}

"Shacklegear, take command. I'll talk to our guests."

"AYE CAPTAIN." Does he only have that one volume for this voice?

With that, he went down the stairs from the helm, turned, and went to the doors leading to his quarters.

Upon entering he saw a familiar sight. A long room with a desk towards the end, behind it a glass front and a balcony on the rear of his ship. In the middle a large table with several small maps laid out, as well as one large coiled up map.

Then in front of him stood two couches with a small table in between. On the left couch sat the blonde woman, he had noticed earlier. She was now wearing clothes that only moderately fit her and were definitely not as elegant as her dress once was, but they were dry and warm. Behind her stood the tall muscled warrior, still wearing his armor, he could see him shivering.

"Aye, nice to meet you. I'm Bill Grayhate. Captain of the 'Survivor'. You sure you don't want some warm clothes, big guy?" He went over to one of the shelves and took out a bottle of rum.

"No. I will rest once I know her Majesty the Princess is safe."

He sat down on the seat opposite to the apparent princess and took a swig of the rum.

"Then take a swig. That'll warm you up a bit." He held out the bottle but the warrior seemed to have no intention of grabbing it. He shrugged "Your loss. So Rigla already told me that you were some kind of princess. Might I ask your name."

"I am the third Princess of the Re-Estize Kingdom, Renner Theiere Chardelon Ryle Vaiself and this is the Warrior Captain Gazef Stronoff."

"Nice to meet you. I hope it's okay if I just call you Princess. That name is a bit long for my taste. So what was a princess doing on such a small ship that didn't even have any canons?"

"I was on my way to the Roble Holy Kingdom on a diplomatic mission when this storm appeared and we were separated from our escort ship. The captain said he had ever seen a storm as strong as this."

"Hm, that's unfortunate. To be honest I have never heard of either that Roble Place, nor your Kingdom, which isn't quite surprising considering my history. But if it's okay with you we'll wait until the storm dies down, then we can search for your escort or get you to Roble."

He saw the surprised look on their faces when he said he had never heard of the two Kingdoms before.

"Captain Grayhate. Can you save Climb?"

"Climb? That boy in the overly shiny armor?" The princess nodded. "Well, I have no clue what his condition is. But if Rigla can save him she probably is doing it right now."

"Rigla? You mean that ... with?"

"Yeah, she is our ship's doctor. And if you got a problem with her being a sea hag, you can search for another person capable of helping that boy. But you won't find them here."

He stood up and went over to the warrior. "Drink Boy." He shoved the bottle into the man's chest. "If you don't warm up your gonna drop dead." With that, he left the cabin and went back into the storm to relieve his First Mate and enjoy the sea.

Hey. So I started another Story, I just had this idea and had to write it down.

I will continue to update 'Awakening of a Friend' don't worry.

Also, there will be no Ainz or Nazarick in this story except for mentions by Grayhate and his crew.

I hope you enjoyed this. Have a great day.

Man I just revised this chapter and damn, my grammar was horrible and there were tons of spelling errors I overlooked.