A Letter to the Nordmenn

[AstriaS 3679]

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[Art by Mateusz Horbowiec]

A Letter to the Nordmenn

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     The cracking of ice resounded along the northern coast as three longships made landfall, and the stones of the rocky shore rolled and crunched beneath the feet of the Svarlandic crewmen as they disembarked. And leading them ashore was none other than Vikne Kjeldsdóttir. It had been some time since her boots had touched these shores, and she could feel a change in the winds. After her Lord had issued his demand for Svarlgeld, the warmaiden had chosen to return to their homeland- across the seas to distant Svarland where she had collected warriors and wisemen alike into her company, and reminded those who had forgotten of Lord Zharrtyr’s authority in their lands. But now she had returned, stronger and more experienced with fresh warriors at her back, come to lay eyes upon the works of their Chosen in this alien land. Yet, something it seemed had changed, though Vikne could not quite place it- a small, biting paranoia, perhaps, she concluded.

 

     Through the ice and wind, as she had done once before, the Svarling commander trudged to the west- leading her cohort to their new home in this foreign land. And as Vikne and her men arrived at the gates of what once was the encampment of Vesturtjörnbúðir, the woman turned, briefly, and directed the warriors’ attention southeast, towards the Norlandic edifice- the cliffside walls of the city of Varhelm. “That,” she began to simply explain to her soldiers, “is the home of the enemy. It will burn soon enough.” Her words were simple, direct, and most importantly honest. This was no mere boast, in her mind, but rather a promise of glories to come.

 

     With construction still underway on this new stronghold, Vikne watched as the captured laborers slaved away laying brick and erecting wooden frames for buildings. This she found most pleasing; the creation of a true foothold in this new land. Yet what she learned about recent events, she found to be less than so. In fact, she took personal offense, and so did she set about dictating a letter- a letter which would find itself delivered to the gates of Varhelm in the hands of a blinded, half-tongued slave.

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To the men of the Nordland,        It has been some few years since last I laid eyes on the walls of your capital, and yet where I had thought to find steel- a folk tempered in the furnace of war- I have instead found even less than my lowest expectation. It has been brought to my attention that not only did you fail to meet my Lord’s demands, you did not even have the honour and the power of will to deny them outright. Again, your inaction proves to be the greatest of your shortcomings. This is, in the most direct terms, unacceptable; it is an insult. And an insult laid at the feet of a King is an insult laid at the feet of those who serve him. An insult against my own honour, I cannot abide.        Unlike my Lord, I have learned your tongue to fluency in both spoken word and in literacy, so I will  explain directly that which I wish to say, that it may not be misunderstood or mistranslated by poorly-learned scribes. I say this to you; for a decade and a half, or near thereabouts, have I measured your worth and found you wanting. In this time you and your warriors have proven naught but that you are too weak and feeble-minded to serve as leaders of men, let alone as the stewards of an entire folk. For too long have you allowed a poisonous complacency to take hold of you, to weaken you. For too long have you followed your gods of cowardice. You have fallen from any glories you may have once held. It is for this reason, and for your insult against my Lord and myself, that I do declare the following:   I will come for you. My cohort will once more fall upon your lands and leave ash and blood in their wake. I will bring strife and sorrow in the Serpent’s name, offer the souls of the slain in sacrifice, and when I am done, my name will be sung in praise by Gods and Men alike in Nárgrindheim. I tell you this so that you might prepare; offer me what resistance you can muster.   Til Nárgrindheim Vikne Kjeldsdóttir of Brimnesskogar, Shieldmaiden of the Chosen

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Spoiler

tl;dr it's time for the boogaloo to continue. I'll be doing some shenanigans that have been requested of me. Stay tuned for updates.