Travelling through worlds with developer tools.

POV: Heath.

Date: Mörsugur 7th, 999. (Alt: 20th Dec, 999 AD.) Location: Götaland (Ancient Sweden.)

Within the Völsung clan, the sound of celebration continues to play out. On one side of the table, a chatter is going on between Gorm and Heath, all others around him in rapt attention.

". . . Then, upon my axe made of 'netherite,' I slayed the Dragon in the End dimension. Killing it once and for all! I took its egg made petrified and kept it as a monument within the other realm." Heath drinks again, even though he cannot feel alcohol, he does not wish to be rude.

"How could one slay a dragon that is the ruler of a realm?!" Gorm hefts, fully surprised at the feat, "If their dragon breath could melt even through your Netherite, a material that stands within a realm much like Muspelheim. . ." Gorm shivers, "What happened to your axe if it was by your journey for so long, did not see us as a threat?" One of the guards in the background comments, others nod slightly. "Because I did not want my allies to think I was a conqueror, I am a scholar at heart, an alchemist, a scientist." Heath aggrandizes what was once a game.

"Either way, such a dragon would have been a great cataclysm to us. In addition, how could you have lived 'alone' within that realm for so long?" Gorm asks, with the time frame of (in-game) years in that 'second realm,' no one in this room would have stayed sane like Heath. 

"Because I hoped to myself every day I could have a chance to meet somebody, not like the Villagers who have no tellable language or the piglins who are cautious of all outsiders. I want somebody I can have a meaningful time with. To be beyond trading or bartering." Heath's response captures those around him. "And that was a noble goal, let us have a drink to that." Gorm raises his mug with others, allraise theirs and they do an air clink. "Cheers!" Heath proclaims, there was silence, then all others in unison. "CHEERS!" All slosh it down.

"Why do you choose to wear steel rather than Netherite though, you said it is a better material." Gorm asks a different question but with a similar meaning. "Because I wish to mine further netherite and smelt it down to further strengthen it at the forge." Heath lies.

". . . You have a smeltery that is as hot as that dragon's breath. You never cease to surprise me." Gorm quips with faux-defeat. "As I said to Egill, you will get used to it." Heath gave equal measure to Gorm like the others. "And where is your filial son, I wish to meet him! I would say you have raised a fine man by now if not for the long wait." Heath's bravado contained faux-mockery. A few chuckles in the background are heard. Gorm goes silent for a small while, thinking on how to respond, then comments a part of the truth.

"He is past the mountain to the south, preparing himself for an upcoming challenge, there is a recent development where he may get married soon to the Open Hand Jötunn Clan Head's daughter!" Gorm states, causing others to suddenly go silent as well.

". . . Let me guess, open combat with the daughter to test if he is worthy? Then a spent time together to see if they are capable of this marriage?" Others are shocked by Heath's accurate guess. "You know their customs?" Gorm asks, wondering how he knew. "The Jötunn, or King Glaumar's culture are bound by honour and blood, they see a fight like a marriage between skill and a trade of blows, except one is to the other's defeat, this is to both's acceptance of each other." Heath was partially bullshitting. But others accept it.

"I will pray to your son's survival, I know it is a 'spar' but greater injuries can be incurred with their great strength against Mennskr." This causes Gorm to smirk. "No need to pray, I trust my son's capabilities." Gorm's response causes others to cheer at that.

"Then I will drink to that!" Heath is loud, then takes another mug to swig it down. Even if he cannot get drunk, the flavour that washes down his throat is calming to him. "Ah, that hits the spot." Heath voices aloud. "What spot?" Gorm asks. "It is just a saying, meaning it is perfect for what I need." Heath made Gorm think complecatedly. "I will probably start using that phrase." Gorm saw it as memorable. "Then that is good, all the more for you. . . Do not know if it is rude to start, but how are we going to sort the people?" Heath suddenly asks.

"Not rude at all, Heath. We will travel to the entrance to your cave area and then settle down. Will you be pre-making the buildings or should we make them?" Gorm asks, Heath gets a bit sheepish because he forgot to build them. "Not yet." Heath's embarrassment was seen.

"I am surprised you have not started building yet, how come?" Gorm asks, wondering how he could live in just a cave. Heath exaggerates a bit to make a point. "After clearing out the area, some leftover caves that I did not dig out into the open yet were left behind. They contained some magical creatures that would be incredibly aggressive, some Blood Álfar, Jötunn, Vittra and Vätte." Heath embellishes. "Do you need help clearing them out?" Gorm asks, hoping to help their new ally. "Thank you for the offer, but I can do it." Heath declares.

"They will not be as powerful as a dragon after all. But it may take a day and night of straight battle to clear out all of the cave chambers." Heath believes it will be shorter, but it will give him more time. "Call for us if you do need help." Gorm assuages the other's taste for battle.

Heath jovially smiles at that, causing Gorm to smile back with equal emotion. While doing this, a new conversation starts. "I have a question. Are your people fine with not being under the sky? I can figure out a way to use runes to 'copy' the sky above the ground to make it seem like open land." Heath asks, "That would be better, our people are not so good in underground spaces, thank you for the thought. I believe we will give you about 50 people as a start." Gorm announces with incredibly unstinting calculations behind his eyes.

"And offtopic, would you like me to heal you of your ailments and age? I am powerful enough to do that to all of your affected people, for it to be a thanks." Thanks to the feast, Heath gained close to half an extra amount of energy. He is currently close to 7 / 8ths of the way.

Heath's full capable capacity is expanding though, so it is a bit more than overflowing from his original point. "You can ask the people, as for me. . . I wish to see my son happy during his marriage, so. Please, but leave my scars, they are what have shown my struggles and growth." Gorm asks, where Heath nods, fully accepting this outcome. "Do you wish to do it now, or later?" Heath asks the telling question. "Probably after the feast is done, I will hold a Hall Meeting to gather all the injured, old and sick." Gorm plans ahead of time.

Gorm never expected to be healed, and he knows there is no reason to doubt Heath because he has the strength to take on the entire clan and most definitely win (from the forced perspective via accidental insertion.) So both are in final agreement and the feast continues!

"Continue your unfinished story about raiding that pillager outpost! The one before you went to the Nether." One of the warriors, Himlauf asks Heath directly. "Right. I took my enchanted diamond sword and swung upon the pillager evoker, it did not expect me to dash beside its magical spikes that it summoned from the ground. I did not swing in time, instead chopping off part of its nose, I continued attacking it while it was charging its next attack. Except that this time, when it 'summoned nothing.' I got cocky. . ." Heath's suspense caught many.

"It summoned a vex, a Vittra that was converted to crave the taste of blood, even greater than the Blood Vittra. Wielding a cursed dagger made of bone steel, it phased through the floor and stabbed between my armour joint, making me drop my clattering shield. . ."

The audience was raptured about this tale, and one grizzled warrior, Jorhunn suddenly piped up. "If it was any of us stabbed like that, we would be out of battle for life. Or go straight to Valhalla. You are tough like the stone that holds up the earth." They comment as a form of encouragement. Not knowing it was just Heath scared during the battle that he forgot to prop up the shield, good thing the victor can tell the tales how they want.

"Thank you, Jorhunn." Heath says quickly while accepting the compliment with a smile.

"The vex used that as an opportunity to try and stab my neck. Luckily, I had spotted it at that moment and swatted it from the air with my sword, killing it in one blow. This surprised the evoker so much that it gave me time to launch myself. . ." Heath thinks about the next part.

"I dropped my sword and wrenched my working hand like fire to wood upon its neck. And squeezed as hard as I could, snapping its neck. I took its totem as a trophy and returned my items to my storage space." Heath's gruesome tale would have made others in his old world wonder if he was fine in the head. But the people here enjoyed hearing triumphs, no matter how it played out. "Death to that evoker!" One chanted. "Surprised you got caught in arrogance during that fight, you do not seem the type." Gorm utters wonderingly.

"I had to learn, I used to be quite a different character back in the day." Heath thought to his past, knowing that before his loneliness in real life he used to be a rambunctious, rebellious teen and young adult. He had to mature quite quickly after 'that' situation.

"Any would be. But now, it is close to the end of the day, let us stop the feast and call the people for the meeting. FEAST DISMISSED!" Gorm called in a shout, letting all in the Hall hear, many got up at the same time and led themselves out of the Hall. He calls the captain of the warriors and tells them to call upon the people he wants. The guard accepts the order and leaves to deal with the task. "So, how does this healing work. Do you use magic, runes or is it a physical technique?" Gorm asks as a light question. "It is my magic." Heath states.

"And as well, let me help move the table and chairs, that way we can allow for others to sit more comfortably." Heath posits to Gorm, to which he agrees. Heath carries the incredibly large tables with food on top to a corner of the Hall, then sets up the chairs in front of them.

"You work quickly." Gorm gives potential banter. "Yes, I do." Heath smirked confidently. Soon, the door is knocked. "You may enter." Gorm calls, and people on the other side open the door, Heath sits down beside Gorm and the people fall in line in front of them and stand. "Those of highest risk shall be at the front, every other severity go from first to last." Gorm sets them in order as necessary. And now the process can begin. Heath walks towards the first, dying man. He appears slightly afraid of Heath's massive height, but Heath crouches.

Now Heath, sitting on his knees is at head height with the old, sickly man. Showing a comforting smile. "What is your name, sir?" Heath's question helps calm him down. "Jurfinn, Lord Dollen." Jurfinn states with fear and respect in his smoker's voice, croaking through. 

"You may call me Heath if you wish, you are called here under my asking." With Heath providing information. "Why call for us, Heath?" Jurfinn asks, appearing like he gained some strength to ask the question. "Because I have a way to heal you all of your ailments, I cannot bring back the dead yet, but I can help those in front of me. Do you wish to be healed?" Heath asks the main crux of the question. Jurfinn sees to himself, then answers. "Yes, I wish to die a warrior's death. Not one in bed." Jurfinn's answer was more than enough.

From Heath's knowledge, he knows what illnesses to kill, and the processes for old age. Telomeres at the end of chromosomes shortening enough due to mitosis and external factors that it leads to useful genes being damaged, leading to the redundant genes failing.

He remembers his classes about stem cells and how to help repair neural degeneration, temporarily inhibiting Gamma-aminobutyric acid, and promoting Melatonin / Serotonin production from the Pineal Gland to make the neural cells 'biologically younger.' Meaning they act as if they are in their prime, at about 18-19 Winters old. Then using other compounds similar to VC6TF in function, their cellular rejuvenation has sped up the process from a few years to a few weeks at a minimum. Which can allow for a new cellular genesis.

His power visually glows, flowing through Jurfinn, who suddenly cries in a mixture of surprise and ecstasy. As if it was the greatest experience he ever had. After a few minutes, the procedure is done. And Jurfinn looks revitalised, but with additional embarrassment

Heath's magic sustained the procedure, without it requiring excess amounts of food, it should continue for 3 - 5 days. "Sorry for the unsightly view, Heath. It just felt. . ." Jurfinn could not find the word. "Beyond happiness? Blissful?" Heath suggests. "Blissful is a nice word." Jurfinn accepts the new word. Jurfinn already appears as if he is brand new. Severely surprising the people, many ask a question, but they all revolve around """How did you do that?""" In wonder. "I will teach you all later on." Heath notes as a reasonable response.

Gorm himself is beyond impressed. "I will enjoy it once you teach us this process." Gorm states, with dedication in his eyes. "It gets better, he will soon appear as if he is in his prime, at 20 Winters Old, yet still with his experiences and memories." Heath comments.

This just no longer became surprising to others, as with so many other miracles, one more would not be unexpected. But Gorm understands the implications. "Is this procedure 'stackable,' like the word you used for your potion effects?" Gorm asks, and Heath smiles widely. "Yeah, so if he gets old. This procedure can be done again, repeatedly. He is essentially immortal now if I provide my magic as necessary." Heath is truthful, knowing what he is talking about. All the people in the room suddenly look at him with newfound intensity.

Gorm bows, which surprised Heath (silly.) "Thank you, for what you are doing. We can now die in battle as men, rather than stay old and weary. We have our own version of Valhalla upon this realm now." Gorm's eyes show they are full of regard and cognizance for him.

". . . I would have thought you were Freyr in disguise at this point? I would have never guessed." One of the injured boys joke. This startles Heath, who then chortles silently.