He is a Craven

[Narthok 10416]

 

He is a Craven

The 5th of Spring 1641

---

          I pen this letter, not as a sacred authority, not as a bearer of olde blood, but as an old man. Today I recount the events of the Norlandic Moot, that which has been a tradition of our people from the days of Thoromir to these.. Ashen days. We were called to a Moot by the Ashland folk, they had called for the men of Renatus to mediate the affair and ensure that the moot did not devolve into bloodshed as it had before. Having gathered at Hearthton, those of us holding to the faith and old ways of Norland headed to the moot. We arrived at a fortress perched on the summit of one of the many isles of the Ashen realm. It's rough surfaces devoid of decoration or caring craftsmanship. Across the bay the smoking husk of Jornhelm’s hall remains its presence a stark reminder to us all of the Ashlander’s ‘faith’. It soon became apparent that we had arrived at a fortress built in panic as a response to the crusading incursion.

 

          Our entry was met with a cacophony of jeers from those we had once held as kin. Yet now the men of Ashenblood and their ilk viewed us with hostility aflame in their eyes. Once the clamor had its course we seated ourselves. I was soon met by the inane mumblings of the Ashling’s talking head. He demanded that only those who resided within ‘Norland’ be allowed to vote. Already displaying the vaunted intellect of the Ashling’s minions I turned to depart. For my fellows and I no longer dwelt on the islands. Realizing their folly they recanted, peppering the foppish ‘knight’ with insults and derision. I rapped my cane on the surface of the table, its hasty assemblage apparent with the loose joints and cheap quality of the wood. As the raucous shoutings subsided once more I stated my terms. The Red Faith would be instated as the official faith of the Kingdom once more and that all candidates must be inducted believers in the All Father’s blessed light. The Ashling responded, breaking his silence briefly to agree to the terms before subsiding once more his sycophantic lackeys resuming their obnoxious braying.

 

          Having come to a, tenuous agreement concerning the terms it came time to discuss and cast our vote concerning those who would come to assume the mantle of King. I began the vote,  declaring my lineage and my right as a Rurik and head of the Edvardsson clan. I cast my vote for Jory Ash. Half brother of the Ashling and a man of the Eiriksson branch of the Eiriksson. I was met with silence, it soon became apparent that this was not to be a discussion on individuals fit to reign the realm. Instead it would be a clash of ideologies, which portion of our sundered realm would take up the mantle of a Kingdom in the midst of being brought low by foreign armies. Briefly reflecting on this matter I cast my vote for my own son Exander Ruric, of the Edvardsson lineage. A strong warrior and competent enough leader who unlike his Ashenblooded kin had held true to the Faith, laws and traditions of yore. But perhaps my eyes are clouded by the pride of an elderly father who has seen his son grow into a man. It mattered not, my vote was cast, those clans, tribes and houses that had followed me to the moot cast their votes. Each casting their vote for Exander, stating their lineage and faith before declaring for the faithful Princeling. Once the vote had been concluded the Ashlanders began to demand the Leitseig, the mediator from Renatus discount a portion of our vote. Claiming that a number of our party were merely members of the faithful and were too recently recruited to have any stake in the affairs of Norland. Leitseig agreed and rendered one of our votes null before calling on the Ash Landers to vote. As the men of blackened blood and burnt halls slowly rattled off their votes in favour of the Ashling prince I raised a contestation. Several of their votes violated the terms they had imposed upon us, Leitseig agreed and rendered null the vote of a random Orkin, a strange hooded man and a heartlander woman.

 

          It was here that the complication arose. The votes from each faction had amounted to a tie. To break this tie Leitseig called for the two candidates to lay a ring of branches as our forefathers had done. Despite having agreed that the vote counts were legitimate and stating that he was willing to die for Norland and its crown the Ashling expressed reservations about a duel of honour with Exander. Soon his leash holders interjected screaming wildly that the vote had been rigged and that it was an unfair decision. They immediately turned tail and sprinted back to the refuge of their meagre walls. Only one of their number remained, Jory Ash stood amidst a crowd of increasingly hostile faithful and increasingly bored Renatian soldiers. Despite this oppressive air he held his head high and volunteered to serve as champion for his half brother. Despite having no faith or hope for the honour of my Grand Nephew, it was at this point that I lost an additional portion of hope that I did not know I had. What man of the High cliffs suffers another man to fight his battles of honour for him. Here was an instant in which the future King of Norland was to be decided. The future defender of our people. And instead of standing like a man and fighting for the values and people that he professes so much love for, he turned tail and ran.

 

          Jevan Ash is a craven blackblood who has forfeited every and any claim he could ever have to the Thorned crown. I will never acknowledge such a man to be of my blood, of my clan, of my faith or of my realm. No doubt those in my company hold similar views. Perhaps even those in the Ashling’s own company hold doubts about the weak spineless nature of their ruler. In the end, He is a Craven. Nothing else matters.

 

~Arthas Rurik

[Sky 0]

"To think I sat at this damn moot thing, only to see both a vote disregarded and an honour duel fled... It's as if they want to fight their own kin, and ignore any sense of culture or brotherhood." sighs out a bored 'Red'.

[drfate786 1690]

Alifer Amice wonders what would of happened had he attended and cast his vote for Exander. "Would the craven prince have truly held true to the moot had I been there? Or would he had resorted to violence as he always does? Perhaps it is a good thing I wasn't there, it must have been the All-Fathers will." 

[SaltAlt 606]

Exander Ruric would recall the duel, giving a small chuckle to his half cousins cowardice.

 

 

[Legoboy7984 3155]

"Who cares..." a Crusader would say

[Sky 0]

45 minutes ago, Legoboy7984 said:

"Who cares..." a Crusader would say

 

'Red' looks towards the cowardly crusader, before looking away and then back, a confused look upon his face. "Did you just go out of your way, to walk all the way here, and say something so useless, as if it were to be taken seriously? To answer you, it's you... You care."

[Jagermaster 50]

Brynden Greymane would cross his arms

"A representative of the Greymanes should have been present at the moot! Our family has been a loyal vassal for a century''

[Chorale__ 2147]

Moved to The Great Library. It shall be sorted into the appropriate category shortly.

 

If you feel this is a mistake, please contact myself or any FM and we'll restore it.