A Frankish Fate

[Norgeth 1894]

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ᚪᚾᚳᛖᛋᛏᚩᚱᛋ ᛒᛖ ᚳᛁᚾᛞ

ᚪᚾᚳᛖᛋᛏᚩᚱᛋ ᛒᛖ ᚳᛁᚾᛞ

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[!] The man known to many as Mogurix had been scarcely seen since his induction into the Reinmaren Tribes, locked away inside his small barrack with little but his thoughts to keep him company. He thought to himself deeply for several days, perhaps weeks, attempting to rationalize this fate that now befell him and his family. . .

 

“What would the ancestors think?” he asked himself, coming to no accepted answer.

 

“Why does this fate befall me?” he asked toward the wall, receiving no reply.

 

“Who am I?” he finally asked the heavens, offering a prayer to the almighty, silence ensuing.

 

The warrior, having been given no answer, fell to his bunk, going to sleep after what seemed like days of fruitless contemplation. He rolled and stirred in his rest, given pause by alchemical visions and tales - yet amongst these material convictions was a brief and sober dream, a dream that gave him what he sought.

 

A short letter was penned and posted in the morning, the man being seen first in many days. . .

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To all of Franktir - A choice

Franks are a strong people, a hardy set of tribes hellbent on survival in a time of endless hardship - yet these efforts are in effective vain, as spoke the ancestors. I have received a message, a vision of Dagodurnos himself, he spoke of my troubles, our troubles, and then came to a conclusion, giving me the answer I sought, that we all seek. Devastated by war and occupation, we are but a fragment of ourselves, unlikely to survive the next few decades as our people wither with each winter, with each year. The elder ancestor gave me a choice, a choice that reflects upon us all, die and be forgotten, runestones toppled and history lost, or embrace courage, the courage to accept change. I have chosen to accept courage and change, we will not be a mere museum exhibit, we will live on in our children, and our children’s children.

 

It is an ironic twist, for our former enemy to be our earthly salvation. The Reinmaren were the first to drive us out of our homes, but also the first to give us one - Just as we served them, we shall become them. Our traditions shall not die, but rather change and adapt, we will become what many of us scorn, but in doing so we will become greater than we have ever been. Our chance to achieve victory is at hand, and it is not by sword or axe, but rather the acceptance of former loss and the integration into a greater tribe, a more powerful host. I ask you, those of the Franktir, to undergo the trials to become Reinmaren, not because they are crushing our spirit and killing our tribes, but rather because they will uplift us, allow us to remain strong and without fear, allow us to control our own fate. Just as Dagodurnos asked me. . . Will you live, or will you die? It is your choice, but only one gives fate to your own hand. I beg this of you, I show humility.

 

- Theurik Stroheim ad Uxelos

- A mere son of a humble fletcher

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