A black Peugeot 402 pulls up in the streets of Bella Vista. A rather rough, muscular man steps out of the car followed by heathen looking bodyguards. Ragnar looks around and spots a homeless man drunk at the curb, he pulls an axe out of his belt burries it in the mans throat. As people turn to look at what's going on Ragnar stands atop the dead bum and begins to speak.

"As you may have heard the Godfather council have given me permision to start a family of my own here in Philly. I am greatfull to the council and especially my former Godfather and friend DeadlySpikeS.

I plan to bring Bella Vista back into this thing of ours before any hoods can turn up and take root, this district will once again flurish with organised crime. I plan to run this family in the traditions La Cosa Nostra with a little Viking agression thrown in.

Ragnar motions over several men to bring 6 large barrels of ale, grabs a horn floating in one of the barrels scoping it up full of ale and holds it aloft and shouts.

"Drink with me and toast to the Cyzlled Norse Men"

Creep walks around the streets aimlessly looking for a friend when he notices Ragnar, an ancestor of his friend, speaking about his plans in Bella Vista, PH.

"Ragnar, our ancestors go way back to I believe Wise Guys, Inc. They were friends, family, and even enemies, on the same side of war, and opposites. Our family lines go way back, even though we have been on opposing sides of past wars, my ancestors always told me how great of friends your were.

I would like to continue that run of friendship between our ancestors. I know you will do well in Bella Vista. Should you need something, please don't hesitate to call upon me.

Congratulations, Ragnar_Lothbrok.

Since hearing the news of Ragnar_Lothbrok's recent move across the country, to lead criminal operations in Bella Vista, Philadelphia, Ziva had been curled up on her favorite chair in the office she calls her own in her own head quarters. Sank into the squashy, inviting fabric of the chair, with a soft blanket wrapped around her to guard from the bitter Chicago winter, she stared intently into the flames of the roaring fire in front of her, an intense look of concentration on her young face.

She wanted to send Ragnar off on his big move with a gift, something special to commemorate both the move across the country and the founding of his own crew when he got there, the Czylled Norse Men. But what to get for him, for such a momentous occasion?

The clock on the mantlepiece chimed out a gentle seven chimes, almost scaring the young crew leader out of her skin, and with a jolt, she remembered that she hadn't yet eaten that day, such had been her concentration on the matter at hand. She decided to run around the corner to her own restaurant, The Red Rose, and see if she might be able to convince her chef, Giogio, to allow her to grab some potato wedges to go. While she would normally use the back door and go directly into the kitchen to speak with her chef, her preoccupation with the matter of what to gift to Flash had her almost in a world of her own, and she drifted through the front door.

And that was when she saw it, and the idea hit her.

A solid silver gravy boat sat on the edge of a table, where a young couple were sat enjoying their evening meal.

Rushing out of the restaurant, all thoughts of food once again banished from her mind, she rushed into the centre of town, to one of her favorite silverware stores. The owner appeared to be just about to shut up for the night, but seeing Ziva, who was somewhat a regular thanks to the restaurant, he gave her a smile, welcomed her inside, and nodded gravely as she described what she was seeking: the finest gravy boat he had, engraved with: "Czylled Norse Men of Bella Vista" on the side. He seemed to take delight in her request for him to do the job there and then, for a bonus.

As he set to work, she wandered around the shop, looking at the other artifacts on display, but totally set on the idea of gifting her friend the gravy boat she was sure was of his dreams. She even debated filling it with gravy, but judged that by the time she had flown to Philadelphia to give it to Ragnar, the gravy would be stone cold and slightly disgusting.

Finally, the old silversmith emerged from his workshop, the gravy boat nestled in a navy blue cushioned box, all ready for her to take over to Philadelphia for Ragnar.

As she made her way to the airport, then onto her flight, Ziva felt as though she could've flown without the aid of the plane - finding such an ideal gift which was so absolutely certain to be used on a regular, if not daily basis by Ragnar had her on cloud nine.

Rushing out of the airport, she hailed a taxi to the place where she had heard Ragnar would be hanging around to celebrate his promotion, and hopped out excitedly when it was reached. Catching sight of Ragnar, she makes her way over.

Ragnar, lover of the gravy, lover of all things gravy, the last person on earth, in fact, ever likely to do something as tyrannical as banning the gravy, I come to you bearing congratulations, and a gift to celebrate your big move. Congratulations, my friend. I can't wait to see what you do here in Bella Vista; I'm sure that your work here will continue the great work done here by your father before you, many months ago. I hope you enjoy your gift. I'm sure you will!

She hands Ragnar the navy blue box, having said her piece.

Ragnar steps down off the dead bum and approaches those gathered, he shakes hands with Prince of no land and Creep.

"Many thanks my friends, please drink up an maybe find yourself a wench."

he feels a tap on his shoulder and turns to see Ziva slightly flustered but beaming with happiness. After opening the box from Ziva he puts the gravy boat to his mouth and bites down on the mental as if testing it.

"This is excellent quality silver! I thank you from the bottom of my heart, however that horrid brown stuff shall never touch my lips again! Don't worry it will still get plenty of use and will take pride of place on my dinning table as my drinking goblet."