vision A Second Encounter with Chieftains Of Reinmaren Yore

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A SECOND ENCOUNTER WITH CHIEFTAINS OF REINMAREN YORE

 

 [!] A mural depicting Theoderic summoning the Reinmaren people for Moot.

 

 

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Spoiler

OOC:

If you are a Blooded Reinmaren, you may choose to participate in this vision. This is just to add to the hype of the coming warclaim against Ravenswood.

 

Unblooded Reinmaren will NOT be able to participate in this vision as they haven’t gone through their Trials to become fully-fledged Reinmarens.

 

As the brave men and women of Reinmar settled down for the night after a day of preparation for the coming war against the Ravenswood, a vision would come to those that had been BLOODED.

 

You would find yourself within what looked to be a tribal camp, your trained eyes darting around for hostile natives. You would feel an air of reprieve as a Reinmaren man in full armor, dented and scratched from multiple battles stood in front of you; the shadowed eyes of the man looked towards you, masked by an iron faceplate similar to those of the officers of the Host of St. Johann. You recognize this man as Theoderic, one of the two most fabled Chieftains of Reinmaren history. Ancient Reinmaren war drums bellowed in the distance.

 

“I called you back here to remind you of the storied legacy you are to uphold, blood of my blood!” The graveled voice of Theoderic called, he would walk up and put a gauntleted hand on your right shoulder. “On your mantle, you carry me and Gelimar’s legacy, much like the Blooded brothers and sisters before you that have passed on and returned here.” He proclaimed, gesturing with an outstretched hand to the Reinmaren that stepped out of their yurts and removed their helmets, here you would see the familiar faces of brothers, sisters, parents, or other family and friends that passed on from your world. 

Another man in the armor of a Chieftain, much like Theoderic, would stand at his fellow Chieftain’s flank. This one you recognized as Gelimar, who’s gauntleted hand now laid on your left shoulder. “For those who live, fight for the glory of Reinmaria. For those who will die, die with honor, o’ kin of mine.” Rang his voice within your ears, the wisdom of both Chieftains etched into the very corners of your mind.

 

Suddenly, clouds parted and briefly showed the glory of the Fifth Sky as Saint Johann, the namesake of your Host, came down to meet with his kin. “Glory to GOD who watches the world from His throne in the Seventh Sky.” The Saint proclaimed to all within the camp, Theoderic and Gelimar stepped back to allow Johann to talk with you. The Barclay Saint walked up to you, his very presence steeled the resolve within your Blooded Reinmaren soul.  “Hark these words from your Father GOD, as His Word is the Absolute Truth: The ground within Ravenswood itself cries out for salvation, this is your purpose in this campaign. Purify that accursed land in the name of GOD.” Saint Johann explained, your focus drawn to his message. “You, kin of mine, may fight for glory, but do so in the name of GOD the Father.” The Saint would walk away from you as his Barclay blue eyes looked at the gathered crowd of Reinmaren. 

“Honorable are the ones who die in the name of our LORD, glorious are those that fight in His Name! WER RASTET, DER ROSTET!” Yelled Saint Johann, pounding his chest plate loudly with his fist, sounding like thunder, in a Reinmaren salute to all as he began to ascend back to his place within the Seven Skies. “WER RASTET, DER ROSTET!” All that gathered yelled, including yourself, as everyone returned a Reinmaren salute to Saint Johann in unison before the clouds parted and then concealed his pious visage.

 

Once the clouds came back together and calmed, Gelimar’s visage stood in front of you. “It is time for you to return to your brothers and sisters, o’ kin of mine.” His voice reverberated behind his helmet’s iron mask as he laid a hand on your forehead, then spoke in the ancient Reinmaren tongue before everything went black. 

 

When you opened your eyes once more, you were back home within the Reinmaren Capital of Kretzen; laying in your bed as rays of sunshine seeped through the windows of your bedchamber. It was morning and in your soul, you held a freshly steeled determination that was ready for the war to come.

 

WER RASTET, DER ROSTET.