Norway—Kraken [Viking raids, 8th-11th century]
Things were not going well. There didn't seem to be enough food for their growing population. Some children Norway, Denmark and Sweden used to play with ended up six feet under. The chiefs were getting tense, and fighting each other. They didn't hide the truth from them: there was a chance that they ended like their little friends, if they didn't find a solution quick.
"I've heard the guys overseas drink in golden cups." Denmark said, during a brainstorming session.
Yes, but it was unlikely that they would share.
"We will take it." Sweden simply said.
Sure that thieves were the worst, but if you declare war on someone and win, there's absolutely nothing wrong with taking their treasures; on the contrary, it was a moral duty.
Another problem: in order to reach them, they would have to face...the Kraken...
The mere mention of the gigantic squid was enough to make little Norway shiver. They had heard stories, about ships swallowed whole by it, of sailors who are left without a chance to survive or even get to scratch it, nothing except start praying to every god in their pantheon. Even Sweden was reluctant to sail too far away from the coast.
But Norway didn't want to die, didn't want to be him the one they buried next. So, though terrified, he got into that ship along with some warriors and sailed off to these unknown, rich places, in an expedition.
He thought his heart would fail at some point, due to the tension. His companions thought he was seasick, but he was actually looking to see if he spotted the big shadow of the monster. Every time they had to stop to get provisions, he hurried them anxiously, because one never knew if that was actually an island or a trap...
The Kraken would swallow them any minute...
But he kept moving.
What's worse: the Kraken eating you or slowly dying of hunger or in a civil war?
No. He didn't want to die like his friends. Not like that. He would face the Kraken, he would face ten Krakens if that meant escaping that awful fate, having a chance, as small as it was.
He would fight for survival! To his last breath!
He threw a harpoon at the water, imagining that he was impaling the monster's heart. Though nothing happened, he saw himself victorious, strong, unstoppable. Come at me, Kraken! I'm not dying yet! I'm not dying!
He reached an island, where priests kept those famous golden cups inside their temples. They tried to stop him, but he had gone this far. Though his sword was as tiny as he was, it was more than enough to gut and cut the throats of those who got in his way.
He returned to Sweden and Denmark with a good loot and a report. Did you see the Kraken?, they asked him anxiously. No, he replied. It didn't dare to show itself.
And so he lived enough to become stronger, to become a man...To become something scarier than the Kraken.