RESPITE IN BITTER COLD

[Clandom of Vistulia 160]

ᛜᛥᛜ

 

 

RESPITE IN BITTER COLD

ᛜᛥᛜ

 

From the ruins of the poisoned Vistulian isles, to the snowdrift-marked plateau above Khron’Hundmar, and then to the busy streets of Alisgrad where they were, for a time welcomed as esteemed guests of that citadel in the north – the Freemen trekked. Some of their number had perished in that initial catastrophe that left old Vistulia a hollowed  shell of itself. Others, disheartened, let their fates wend elsewhere. Still others – counting themselves among the ranks of Brennus hal’Cingedoz’s clan, Cingedoz – settled with the Karlik of Khron’Hundmar, founding the sister-settlement of Brigwindosdur.

 

Those who remained with the High Elder and his enduring leadership found themselves finally at what seemed like a more permanent home. Gabriel Pasciak entreated with the honorable Norlandic king, Odin Freysson Ruric on numerous occasions, and they together, with the guidance of the king’s council, agreed to turn over the frozen shipyard of Alisgrad to the purposes of the Vistulians. The sturdy, albeit snow-choked longhouses that scored the shoreline would now host the stubborn few Freemen as they rebuilt themselves, reclaiming bit-by-bit their foothold in the realm.

 

Vistulian laborers, skilled hands that served under the Tvorca, fetched cold-darkened lumber from the nearby coniferous forests, else they shipped the wood from Brigwindosdur in the north. Broad timbers were hammered into the ground, providing skeletons for dark little huts that sat hunched together with the longhouses, whipped by the winds that blew off the nearby lake. The skeletons were reinforced with planks, with furs chiseled into the cracks, with pungent-smelling sealants that warded away decay. The houses were clad with fresh-woven banners of red and grey, honoring the late Piast’s clan of Vilchyc, while celebrating the current High Elder’s clan of Pasciak. 

 

Newly-sworn legionnaires under the supervision of the Black Kos, Dalebor, trickled in and out of the settlement from dawn until dusk, assisting where needed in the construction and renovation of their new hall from which to stage their excursions. Their heavy, black uniforms painted their outlines starkly against the yet-unfamiliar snowdrifts of their northern surroundings – shadowy figures on a ghost-white background of Bies’s creation.

 

Chiefly among the tasks though, was the construction of the temple. It gawked back from the side of the cliff, yet a tangle of scaffolds and unrealized architectural vision. In spite of this sorry state, though – the High Elder looked upon it with anticipatory pride. He was joined by the younger Law Keeper, and the bastard-Duhovnik who both offered their opinions of the construction all the while laborers clambered over it. It would be the first place of proper worship that the Vistulians had enjoyed in a long while, and an energy in the air betrayed an unspoken zeal, a fervorous dedication to the Father-Above-All that would soon be given a conduit.

 

Some wild-eyed boar had been caught scrounging near the village that afternoon, oblivious to the trio of hunters that stalked it and shot it dead with a single, well-placed arrow guided by Mamuna. The sweet smell of pork wafted off its meat as it hung roasted over a bonfire in the middle of the feasting hall, surrounded by all that was left of the Vistulians. Gabriel Pasciak sat at the head of the gathered, a bottle of wodka clasped in one hand as the men and women before him feasted and supped. The High Elder tapped his one freed hand against the table and raised his voice, calling out to each and every one of them for their attention.

 

ᛜᛥᛜ

 

“HVALA, a toast to our fallen sestras and bratskis, guided by Koshei – to the dobre king of Norland, and his honorable subjects, to our kin in Brigwindosdur, and to all of you who remain at my side. Ten priyacil pravdivi, co w smutki ugodlivi.”

 

And with that, they drank. Then they drank some more. Work had concluded for the day, and the Freemen had earned peace for a time.

 

“Hvala Vistulia.”

 -someone croaked later that evening, but so much drink had rendered the words nearly meaningless.

 

 

---

 

Spoiler

(OOC:)

 

After settling the business of land acquisition with the various Norlandic leadership figures, the Vistulians are finally making a move to a more permanent living place of their own. With that said, we're working on building homes/facilities for everyone and managing land permissions. Send a bird to Gabriel Pasciak (Lautrec) or Alfie Pasciak (Thezi) or privately message me (Drzzter#7720) or my regent/Law Keeper (Thezi#0707) to get your permissions in order if you're already a member of the Greater Clandom.

 

Vistulian Discord: https://discord.gg/aAvduXXyDA