When the North Men from Ingolfsfell sail from their icy fjord in a single longboat, to establish a settlement across the great sea, they thought they would be gone for just three years. They had no name for the Atlantic then; and America they called 'Vinland', the place of meadows. But a storm takes them off course to an island even the legendary Leif Erikson had never seen. These natives are not savages in skins; and they do not build their homes from hides. They live instead in a great city, in the shadow of a looming volcano. And they do not hunt animals; they hunt men with white hair and blue eyes. Their gods come from the skies, and the Apocalypse is ... now.