runes THE TALE OF OSMUND

[BuilderBagel 832]

THE

 TALE OF OSMUND

 

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Art depicting Osmund hearing admonitions from his people.

 

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DIE GESCHICHTE VON OSMUND | THE TALE OF OSMUND

Raised by Owinrich Eadlacsson, Chieftain of the Eadlkin
In the Age of Frost

Transcribed by Aelfwin von Kretzen

In the year of our Lord 1973

 

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Medieval II Total War Music "The Widow"

 

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ÖHNE UND TÖCHTER VON REINMAR,

HARK THESE TALES INSCRIBED ON STONE, KINSMEN. I have transcribed the Runespire of Osmund, one of the earliest known chieftains to undergo baptism and convert to the One True Faith. Formerly a mighty, prideful, and boastful chieftain, he found the Lord after committing a great sin and was granted salvation following a most divine punishment.

 

 

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THE TALE OF THE MARTYR

Art depicting Leofred ‘The Martyr’.

Long ago, when my son was but a babe and my people still praised the spirits of the forests, rivers, and sky, my hirdman and brother, Leofred, approached me after a great battle amid my feast. 

 

"Brother, brother!" he exclaimed as he entered my hall. 

 

"What? Come forth and partake of your bread!" I called back, eager to receive him. 

 

"The herder Alfgar recounted a most wondrous tale! He spoke of an ancient king, Goswin, if memory serves?  How steadfast he remained in his faith even amidst defeat by his foe, Harwin." He shared the tale with me as he accepted my bread and seated himself beside me at my lengthy table. 

 

"Bah! Alfgar must be weaving foreign fables and myths. Why does this Goswin captivate you, brother? He was forsaken by his gods and met defeat," I inquired, scoffing at the account of what I would later come to know as the tale of the illustrious Godwin of Aaun. 

 

"Was it not honorable to remain loyal to his gods even in the face of defeat?" Replied Leofred with a curious expression. 

 

"I suppose..." I responded with a thoughtful hum before shifting the conversation to the spoils we had garnered from our triumph.

It wasn't until a fortnight had passed that Leofred broached the topic of his tales once more. This time, during one of our hunts, he spoke to me of Horen. 

 

"Brother, have you ever heard of the chief of chiefs Hörn? A man of such magnitude that he held authority over all others? A trader came to our mead hall and spoke of him, mentioning how Hörn was bestowed power by a singular god. Have you encountered a god so mighty as to elevate a man to such heights?"

I grunted in response, my focus consumed by the hunt, and in my ignorance, I harbored disdain for such tales. "If there truly exists a deity of such magnitude, why bother with any others?" I retorted mockingly.

Leofred remained silent regarding this god until the arrival of summer and the resurgence of our campaign against the Joreksson clan. Following a skirmish with our enemy's warband, I was informed that my hirdmen had vanquished the most foes and seized the greatest number of steeds. 

 

"I beseeched the god of Hörn and Goswin ere the battle, and he granted me strength!" Leofred exclaimed joyously when I inquired about his newfound prowess in combat. "Brother, we must invoke this god; he shall shield us! His might surpasses that of the spirits!" he urged earnestly. 

 

"No. You shall not lead me or our brethren astray from our allegiance to the spirits. Keep your tongue still concerning this foreign deity, Leofred," I retorted with disdain, my fear of the retribution of the false spirits and gods palpable, fueled by envy and ignorance. I cautioned my brother, and he held his tongue. !

He gazed at me with apprehension, though at the time I mistook it for fear of my anger, only to realize later that it stemmed from his concern for my well-being.

As days turned into months, Leofred's valor on the battlefield became legendary within our clan. Yet, with each triumph, I witnessed his inner struggle, the torment of not being able to attribute his victories to his deity. And with each pang of his heart, mine grew colder. Though I was mistaken, I persisted in my condemnation.

Then came the moment when he could no longer bear the weight of my persecution. Amidst an assembly, he boldly declared that his triumphs were bestowed by the god of Hörn and Goswin, denouncing the spirits of the forest, rivers, and skies as false. He lamented my misguided convictions with sorrow in his voice.

In a fit of fury, I rose from my seat and demanded of him, "Leofred, my brother! Renounce your god and embrace the spirits once more!" His response was a defiant shake of his head, unwavering in his faith.

"Then face your end, brother! Renounce your god or meet death!" I demanded in return. In response to my ultimatum, he drew his seax and, with a solemn prayer on his lips, drove it into his own heart. I made a martyr of my brother, and the rebukes of my tribesmen fell upon me like thunder. 

"Silence!" I commanded, quelling their voices, before dismissing the assembly. I withdrew to the depths of our sacred forest, beseeching the spirits for solace, yet my soul found no rest.

 

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THE TALE OF CONVERSION

Art depicting Osmund receiving a sign from God.

On the night of my brother's passing, a mighty tempest descended upon my lands, wreaking havoc until I was granted mercy. This marked the beginning of God's retribution for my grievous transgression. My plains were submerged beneath floodwaters, and the ancient trees of our sacred forests were uprooted, the very shrines they guarded laid to ruin by the relentless storm. 

The following day, my adversaries, the Jorekssons, whom my brother had once vanquished with divine aid, triumphed over my forces on the battlefield, seizing our steeds and laying waste to our livestock.

In the ensuing days, calamities befell my people, yet I remained obstinate in my defiance of God's will. Even as my tribesmen reproached me in assembly, I blasphemed against the Almighty, demanding their silence. But when the final blow of divine punishment struck, and my son fell gravely ill, I felt the fear of God grip my soul.

With a heavy heart, I rode forth to the banks of the once-hallowed river, where I knelt in supplication, pleading for God's forgiveness and protection. I vowed that if He would spare my people and my son from His wrath, I would dedicate my life to His service, surrendering myself to the priesthood. As my entreaty reached its crescendo, I rose to my feet, and with me, the sun emerged from behind the clouds, the storms abated, and the trials ceased. 

God had bestowed upon me redemption and a divine purpose. My son and my people were spared, and together, we embraced the glory of God.

He bestowed upon us priests and wise sages of the One True Faith, and at the hallowed place of my redemption, the sacred river, I underwent baptism. I took the name Owinrich, in honor of the renowned son of Goswin and nephew of Harwin.

 

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WER RASTET, DER ROSTET

AELFWIN VON KRETZEN

 

HER LADYSHIP, FREDERICA, Baroness of Sigradz, Seneschal of the Heather Court

HIS EXCELLENCY, NIKOLAUS, Prelate of Reinmar, Chaplain of the Heather Court