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I wanted to ask you something. Which is… what's your name? The title of this article is conjecture. Although the subject of this article is canon, no official name for it has been given. |
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Throughout her travels across the 9th century England, Norway, and Vinland, through dreams of realms in Norse mythology,[1][2][3] and her later journeys to Ireland,[4] Francia,[5] and the Isle of Skye,[6] the Viking shieldmaiden and jarlskona Eivor Varinsdottir of the Raven Clan came across notes and inscriptions that contained information on people, businesses, and events. These included messages written on paper and walls. Most of these texts were found in military and bandit camps, cities, and other places of interest.
Asgard[]
Father,
If you insist on playing host to your new wife and family, try to contain their activities to your home in Noatun. Given the rise of Jotun aggression, Skadi and her kin will not be treated kindly beyond your borders. We need your strength guarding our shores, not drowning your cares on one of your island retreats.
Remember, you are a Lord of the Vanir, not a thrall to the giants.
Freyja
Former-husband,
I return today to the icy embrace of our snow-covered kingdom. You think us harsh and frigid, but our inner-fire burns all the brighter against the cold. You are a cool fish in warm water, and despite a pair of feet that know no equal, you do not meet our measure of manhood.
Skadi, Mistress of the Frozen Mountains
Skadi, my Majestic Mistress!
Will you not stay?
We may be as different as Nótt and Dagr,
But we burn brighter than both.
You are the saltiest dish of lutefisk that ever I tasted,
And life will be a poor feast without you.
–Njörðr the Tempest-Tossed
Havi–
A witness has come forward in the case of Sigerdrifa to support that she was indeed coerced. In light of this new evidence, it seems overly cruel and perhaps short-sighted to let her fate hinge on a curse. I say this not out of sentimentality but simple practicality. Sometimes the ripples from these tiny tragedies can come crashing onto our shores.
–Týr, Lord of justice
Týr, Lord of Kennels
Garmr got loose in my garden again, ripped up the new beds and consumed a score of unique plants that now exists nowhere else but that mangy cur's guts. If the poison does not kill him, I will the next time he places a paw on my lands. He will make a fine rug.
Freyja, Mother of the Volur
Lord of Justice -
In future, refrain from using my workers as your personal household servants. When they return (if at all), they do so soiled, worn, and smelling of your kennels. Some have been so ill-used, they are not fit for weaving.
Freyja, Queen of the Aesir
Bride of Spring, Queen of Birth,
Watch your treasures well.
Tricksters lie and seek to steal
Your gracious Gift of Youth.
But your most precious prize
Lies deep inside
And needs my key to unlock it.
Lord of Thieves,
When you promised us the "fruit of Idunn's toil," we expected certain artifacts of power, not a basket of actual fruit. Although delicious, they were far from the apples we desire. Do not look to enter Jotunheim without such a prize or you will be served as a side dish at Hel's grim banquet.
T.
Husband-to-my-Mother -
They call thee Lord of Lightning,
But you are nothing near so swift.
No more nimble than a boat,
And quick like a brown bear in winter.
Do you a dare tree-top challenge?
Can you dance on air and branch,
As I flew across Hringhorni's oars
Before it fell to funeral flames?
- Ullr
Stepson -
I spit on this pathetic prank birthed by a petulant boy-child. I AM your mother's husband now. You must come to HEEL and stop these childish challenges. When I, Thor, did not succeed on the first try, I knew it was devised to humiliate me. Thor always succeeds on the first try. Leaping from limb to limb is a laughable feat which I will not attempt a fourth time. Now, I will go to your mother and we will MATE, very strongly and very passionately like we do--right after I beat this silly test of yours.
Thor, King of Sky and Air
Havi -
The attacks grow more fierce and I must venture from my tower. What I hear with my Hidden Ear worries me, and now I must see it with my eyes.
I beg you, once again, to assign me a serious apprentice. Loki clearly resents his role as gatekeeper and bristles at the lightest of requests. He will need some supervision in my absence. Not that he can do much harm without my key, but the wards have been weakened, and he would be next to useless against a full Jotnar assault. Best that he be reassigned—or expelled from Asgard altogether—despite whatever fool's bargain you've struck. I swear he will be the death of me.
–H.
Havi -
The Jotun have help. The invaders could not have breached my wards on their own. I am setting out in pursuit of these perverse trespassers and will report on my findings.
- H.
Dearest sister,
It is with the utmost admiration that I salute your patience and grace. To bloom as you have among the loutish Aesir, a race only slightly more civilized than the vile Jotnar, is already legend among our people.
Alfheim remains largely untroubled by the invasions plaguing Asgard, but then we have always been more proficient at concealment.
The pain caused by your absence grows more acute each day, and I fear I may waste away from sorrow. Write me soon that I may at least feed on your words.
Your loving brother
- Freyr
Ivaldi's Forge[]
The namesake trees of the Hollow Forest have properties unseen elsewhere in the realms. At their core, a solid emptiness that retreats from the eye, then draws near. Like the rise and fall of a down-covered bosom. Would a construct of this wood own these same shifting properties when cut off from their roots?
"Replenish your strength, heal your wounds—but disturb my work and I'll geld you myself!"
Father–
Your journals have been most helpful in our work! Frosti has made great advances in runecraft, binding enchantments of greater strength and durability.
Do leave more lore, scattered and hidden from jealous eyes. May they find their way to able hands!
Do not despair or lose faith in the Great Work. You are far from home but close to our hearts.
–Alf
Father–
Do not lose heart!
Even as you toil away for an ungrateful master, the Great Work goes on. We have mined greater depths than even Yggdrasil's wyrms have known, and still we do not stop. Our people will be safe, within the mountains womb when the soot-red rooster sings.
Brave your sentence, as I know you will. It is only a ripple in time's ever-flowing river.
–Alf
Lyngvi Island[]
...may sustain you, my son, and buy favor...
Well of Urðr[]
All I do--the intrigues, the sacrifices, the betrayals--I do for you.
Of all my children, I fear for you the most.
The Nornir cursed your name before your birth and poison foolish ears.
It grows more challenging to hide you from Odin's sight. We may need to abandon Asgard for one of the lesser realms. You would fare little better under your sister's domain—she has made that much clear. Midgard is promising, but the barriers greater.
I know not when—or if—you might make sense of these musings. Sharing my thoughts like this helps keep them purposeful and sharp.
England[]
Hearken, my darling,
These words I speak true
Big missiles are deadly
And I'm missing you.
Don't wind me up, Bertha,
I built you, each part,
Unleash your great arrow
Take aim at my heart.
Your arms are held wide,
Yet I'm all out of luck,
For you don't have a hole,
And I'd sure like to
(the rest is scribbled out)
Cent[]
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[note 1]
Kjotve – Rogaland
Berthtulf, Osgar, Siweard
By the big tree just north of the ruins in the heart of the forest east of Croydene.
The Beastmaster
He lives among the animals, more beast than man. He commands all creatures, from the lowly mouse to the fearsome bear. They do his bidding, heinous and cruel. He claims to be nature's protector, but I see him with blood in his teeth, feral and wild like the wolf. And now he has cursed me. Cursed me for my terrible crime.
I am doomed.
While I was hunting I came upon a she-wolf and her cubs barely older than one setting of the sun. She bared her teeth at me, and though I wanted to flee and leave the mother in peace, she chased me through the trees. I am ashamed to say I struck her a deathly blow. I did not want them to die, but what could I do? I think the beastmaster saw my deed. And now he has placed a terrible curse upon me. The boars bellow outside my door. The rats scrabble in the walls. One will get me. I know it.
Beamasfield[]
That weaselly little rat. Tedmund. Doesn't matter how hard I work, he's on my back all day. Chop faster, Saewine. Carry more wood, Saewine,[sic] Dance a little jig, Saewine. I am only here because of the good work being done to build the fine town of Canterbury. I'll teach him. I steal a log every day. Soon I will have enough for a house.
Canterbury[]
Enough is enough, Cuthbert. You were so lovely when we was first married. You would rub my feet and bring me beer in bed. Now you think you're going to sit around scribbling them ditties. While I wait on you hand and foot? Your poems are terrible. You smell like turnips. So, I am going to my sister's. O, and courage does not rhyme with orange.
"Matilda the imp pig. If she tells you to do something, understand this is the devil's voice in porcine form. Stay away from the Old Roman Theatre. She will bewitch you and drag you to hell.
Do not seek the pig.
The Bishop of Canterbury.
Enough! If you do not stop visiting the porcine prophetess Matilda at the Old Roman Theatre, I will make her into bacon, which I will then douse in holy water and bury in the churchyard.
The Bishop of Canterbury
Canterbury Barracks[]
To the venerable Captain of Dover,
Harold you know I do not ask this lightly. We need your protection. The situation with the Viking raiders has become so dire that I can no longer trust the treasury of Canterbury will not fall into their murderous hands. I am driven to protecting it with my own sword. If you care anything for me, and your beautiful letters and poems led me to believe you do, send us men.
The Captain of your heart, Edwin
Canterbury Seminary[]
Mistress Cynewynne,
Enough. I will not baptize Reginleif and Podlecius. Firstly, they do not have souls, so they cannot go to heaven (or hell). Secondly, I have on good authority from Brother Harold that they hate getting wet. The bite is still infected by the way. Thirdly they are cats. Lastly they are cats. I know the final points are one and the same, but they are so vital to my argument, I thought they bore repeating.
Your humble servant,
Father Gratiosus
I write this in honor of Lord Augustine, first Archbishop of Canterbury, sent here by blessed Gregory, Bishop of the city of Rome, who with the help of God, guided King Ethelbert and his people from the worship of idols to the Faith of Christ.
We are the protectors of the blessed Augustine of Canterbury. We have made it our vow to cut down every heathen who steps upon our sainted shores. Let the swords of the slain enemeis of Christ be a warning.
God is strong in our hearts and our soil
Cathedral Catacombs[]
I throw myself at the strange language that Emperor Louis bade me to decipher. yet all my knowledge of the Ancient Ones and their artifacts falls short of shedding even the thinnest ray of light upon this beautiful script.
Louis tells me these words come from an etching seen and transcribed by a young Palatinus in the days of Charlemagne's oversight. But Louis does not know where in the world the original inscription was discovered. On a temple? A tomb? A slab of rock? Impossible to say.
*
Again and again, I consult the keystone in my possession, searching for correlations between it and the words copied from the etching. Yet nothing obtains. This should not be a surprise. The keystone itself is a mere fragment, brought, I am told, from Norway by the invader Ragnar Lothbrok. For that reason, I call it the Saga Stone. Did he know the true value of the object he carried?
*
A fortuitous discovery! I have come into the possession of a man bearing the mark of the Ancient Ones upon his neck. I tremble at what this could mean. Could he be an Ancient One reborn? Or a child of such a one, designed to make his appearance after so many centuries? I have heard stories of one called Aita reborn. But this man does not have the telltale eyes.
I will do all I can to probe this man for hidden mysteries. And with luck, the language of the ancient ones will open to me.
Let our wretched origins be known...
We are the instruments of the ancient gods. We are the refuse of an ancient world. Yet we are the hope for an era reborn.
Let our great task be stated...
We are the shepherds of our creators' will. We are the curators of our creators' tools. We are the new masters of the world they made.
Let our loyalties be clear...
The Father of Understanding guides us. The Mother of Wisdom inspires us. The Sacred Voice fills our hearts with boldness.
Let it be known...
We men and women of the Order of the Ancients are the natural arbiters of the world. Let all those who oppose us perish in pain. We are everywhere, and we are eternal.
In the name of Mithras, the Last Warrior, go forth and dominate. Reclaim the world that is ours by will.
Saga Stone inscription as read by Sigurd:
zrhwachày nàgkwat nsmæ br trrhwndi kwardæ
I sorhwlàs vras chnàkôdi de nsm huchràs réyzdéràæ chaz zàwomsi[note 2]
Saint Martin's Church[]
Father Egbert,
It is sorry times we find ourselves in. Where Danes can lay waste to our holy places, steal relics and books (I did not even believe these barbarians could read). So, I willingly give you this donation to restore the church. With no other motive than the glorification of our Lord and Savior, the Lord Jesus Christ.
If however, you feel the need to ask the Lord for favor on my behalf as a thank you for my generosity, say a comely new wife or a good breeding pig, that would be completely your decision.
Eardwulf of Canterbury
Cavern of Trials[]
Only the one balanced in their emotions, agile in their moves, careful in their decision, and smart in their choices will be able to pass the Cavern of Trials.
Dover Pharos[]
Thereupon the hillside brightly
Lives and slivers something sprightly
Old as time and twice as wise
Fangs of venom, lightning eyes
He who dares to catch his tail
Will find their deepest wish prevail
Then will Old Hisser take his flight
And leave behind a skin of white
I might have lost the key in the tower. I was exploring the remains, and when I came back, I found myself locked outside.
I hope we find it because the closest locksmith is two days away.
Folcanstan[]
Is it irony that as a tax collector, I have lost every coin that has ever come to my pocket? On drink, on song, on dice. Now I can no longer afford to eat anything but turnips. If I died of malnutrition, I could not pay the church to bury me. And then God answered my prayers. With a bounty from the sea. Can I take these coins that washed up on the shore? Is it stealing? Are they taxable?
My mother's recipe guaranteed to win the love of any man who tastes it.
Fish Stewed in Ale
One Leek
A knob of Butter
A cup of low-hopped ale
One whole fish
A handful of breadcrumbs
Gut and clean the fish.
Add the leek to the butter in the pan.
Fry.
Add the ale and bring to a boil.
Let the fish simmer for thirty minutes.
Remove the fish and put on your best platter.
Sieve the sauce to rid the dish of scales.
Serve with buttered turnips.
Dear Father Gratiosus,
Please reconsider baptizing my precious Reginleif and Podlecius and giving them Godly Christian names. If you don't, I am worried that when I die, they will not be waiting for me in heaven, but instead will burn eternal in the pits of hell. And although they both love to curl up by the fire, I don't think my cats would like this.
Your faithful servant,
Cynewynne
Ita quod dicere possunt cum Wade:
Summe sende ylves & summe sende nadderes,
sumne sende nikeres the biden watez wunien.
Nister man nenne bute ildebrand onne.
O, Wade. The very waves ebb and flow at your command. I have tried to turn away from your pagan song, but when my own God ignored my prayers you answered them.
Will I go to Hell? Gladly, and in your soft embrace.
Lolingestone Bandit Camp[]
I captured a Viking, and he told me a wonderful story. About Freyr and his pet boar, Golden Bristles. He said that boar was like a god. I want a boar like that. So i fed the Viking to Cecil. I think he is changing already. I can see it in his tusks. They look shinier than usual, and he has a weird little smile. Like he knows something secret.
He is becoming a god, and he demands more fresh meat.
Canute. How many times do I have to tell you to keep that book thing out of the way of Bertha? You know that boar will eat anything, like literally. I don't kow what is in that book, something important definitely. And now half tha pages have been nibbled!
Keep it somewhere safe!Medeuuage Megaliths[]
Here in the ancient Kingdom of Cent, the Jutes have brought me to where his fire burns through traces of the Nephilim.
Here the Lord speaks to me again. He warns of betrayals, of struggles, of the trials of the First Ones. I do not always understand His message.
If He is warning me, it is because He believes I ams worthy. He says there is one angel still trapped, she who must be released, or joined. Must I find her?
- Brendan of Clonfert
Saint Hadrian's Priory[]
The secret ingredient to our famous ale's smooth flavor and tender aroma is using fresh silphium in the mix. This yellow flower was something St. Adrian himself brought from his birthplace of Cyrenaica, Africa, along with this ancient recipe.
It is also rumored to have some contraceptive effects, but use this method at your own risk.
Tonbridge Monastery[]
God has blessed these bells. Their forceful knelling will protect us from the Vikings. We have orders from all over Wessex and can barely keep up with the demand for our miraculous chimes.
God be praised. Vikings be damned.
3x Small bells for Suthsexe
1x Large bell for Canterbury
2x Large bells for Essexe
East Anglia[]
My love,
I write these lines to you as you sleep as soundly as a babe. But I worry your health will falter without mroe herbs. Should you awake and find this note before I return, know that I would never abandon you. I have locked the doors from the outside for fear of wolves or worse--Danish raiders. You must hide should they come.
Love you always,
Edyth
Herleif! Someone has stolen the offerings from Cedd's Stone again. I finally spotted them! Green shadows flitting through the thick of the brush. I tried going after them, but their tracks fade fast, and I am no hunter. I can barely tell if it is a mossy bear or a starving, dirty Saxon. I leave this to you, none that desecrate our god-shrines shall go unpunished.
Friends of St. Martin-
Fiona the Fox
The Large Walker
Charm of Crop Blóm
Mix a woman's moon-blood, sprig of mistletoe, red loam, and a horse's heart
Speak the names of the Aesir from the Völuspâ while blessing the crops
Charm of War-Fever
In a ram's skull, mix horse's blood and nightshade under Freya's moon
Drink the mix, chant the Berserkersaga, and wear the Bear-Sark
Today I found its tracks. Like none I have ever found in the wildwood. The legend must be true. That devil's spawn named the Black Shuck roams this realm. I track it, but in truth, it tracks me too. I sense its unseen presence, watching from the woods. The tracks lead to the Roman ruins nearby. Tomorrow, I shall be ready.
Beodoricsworth[]
My Lord, King of Mercia
The realm of East Anglia is fraught with peril, but he war will not spill across the border into Mercia, not yet. The Danish factions claw at each other's throats while the East Anglians are caught between the anvil and the hammer. Athelstan was a good king, but now he too is dead. My sword wishes to help our kin, but your orders are to wait. So wait I shall, sire.
Godwin the Patient
The End is Nigh!
I am Aelfwyn, chosen by God to free this land from the heathens. I write to warn you of the judgment that is at hand. This letter is a command from God himself to join my cause, the true, just cause of the Lord. There are many false prophets abroad today, but they are pretenders, nothing more. The godly are with me, the ungodly are not. You do not wish to be the latter.
Berkelow Bog[]
Father Lerion, founded of oak and stone, thunder and wind. Of Woden's kin you were.
Did you never stoop to see the daughter who loved you best and in whose memory you live, afire, as Lord of all?
Beteleah Farm[]
Edgar, it's been days since Alder left to track the raiders near our farm. I have faith God will protect him, but still I worry. If you venture into the fields, have a care.
Boudicca Tomb[]
By pure happenstance, I have unleashed the power of this remarkable machinery.
Using some artifice, the entrances to these caves are obscured, leaving a passerby to believe there is no entrance at all!
If I believe the gods existed, I would ascribe this to Mercury himself.
- Manius
Fiery hair and fiery heart
Our Boudicca burned the Roman camps
And danced in the flames
They could not kill her
She saw to that.
Brisleah Farm[]
Mildred,
We are fleeing to Northwic before Rued's men lay waste to this place. We could not carry everything hidden in the basement, so bring with you anything of value we left behind. But hurry! The Danes take all and spare none.
Godspeed,
Edric
Dunwic[]
You call this a cell? No, no, no. It is a window into another world, into truth, into a place that grows and twists beyond the laws of God. It speaks a language I cannot understand, but I hear. O, how I smothered in silk. Listen? Can you hear it too? Can you? Can you hear the wicked whispers of the spiders, those spindly, bristly spiders whose wild webs tell me things...
Edmund's Hope[]
O lord,
Take these gifts, my blood offering, as a sign of devotion to your mighty Cause. I have laid waste a dozen heathens for your greater Glory, though one crept up into the rafters to die, so that you may smite him down at your leisure. May his blood and body please you, my Lord.
Your most devoted apostle,
Saint Aelfwyn,
Hammer of the Heathens
Elmenham[]
To Tomorrow's Magnus,
The coverings to the graves remain broken. If you have not fixed them by the time you have read this note, you had best pray nothing has been stolen or it will be your head and there will be no Tomorrow's Magnus, tomorrow.
With much concern,
The Magnus of Today
Valdis, I have never heard a name such as yours. But it brings to mind the flowers of my--
Dear, Valdis, you are our Queen now. Together we will bear the fruits of--
Valdis, you are the sole captor of my soul, my burning ember, the igneous--
I have worked tirelessly for this marriage alliance. And now that it approaches, I find myself beset by doubts. Plagued by fears that I am unworthy as a king, a husband, even as a lover. And this woman shall be my wife--it cannot be politics alone. A woman such as Valdis deserves more. A poem perhaps? No, no ... or should I?
Forward Camp[]
Inga,
Though the great sea separates us, my mind flies to you, even on the eve of battle. All around, my fellow Danes beat their chests, eager to drink of the red war-death. It was never my wish to fall in battle, or even live apart from you, but I cannot let our little ones starve. If I fall, Thorfast has sworn to carry this note and my share of the treasure to your across the wide whale-road.
-Skorri
Sister,
I know you are wroth at me for going to war and leaving all in your hands. But Father is dead and our brothers too. Who else is left to defend our farm? I shall return before harvest, this I swear by all the holy saints. And do not forget to milk Sciffa and shear Ella.
Athelswith
Grime's Graves[]
My boy. My sweet little Grendel. My eyes see nothing but a helpless tiny thing. Perhaps his form is like no other, but my heart feels an immense love. Like God's love. I cannot fail him. They say he will not live long. But I will do anything for my baby, my Grendel.
My Grendel thrives in the face of so much. Our village. Other children. His own body. My love amd the grace of God are all he needs. We will move away from the rest. He needs not their fearful looks, their vile taunts, their evil threats.
Grendel's sins are for God alone to judge. My simple boy knows not his own strength. Forgive him, Lord, as he knows not what he does. My duty is to help him thrive. And I shall. I love him. I love him so. My sweet little boy. My Grendel.
King's Bury[]
Her lies King Edmund, father of East Anglia, a good and godly man. May he lie here in peace, surrounded by the children of God, until Doomsday when the dust shall return to the earth, and the spirit shall return unto Heaven. Lord have mercy on his soul.
Lerion's Estate[]
Thegn Leofwine,
Since the execution of Ealdorman Lerion for treason and subsequent disappearance of his three daughters, there has been no activity at the late ealdorman's estate. Only rats and roaches remain.
My men and I have conducted a partial search of the premises. We found a great many disturbing signs that indicate our late Ealdorman Lerion was not a man of Christ, but was in fact deeply besotted by the false gods of his deluded forebears.
If I could enter the family crypt, I might learn more about Lerion's blasphemies and motivations, but the way is blocked by a hideous statue, and the location is suffused with a cursed miasma. I dare not enter without a priest.
I pray you have more success than I have had myself.
Thegn Aethelstan
Ealdorman Lerion,
Rumors abound of your wish to take action against King Burgred in Mercia. Answer now and put a swift end to these whisperings or suffer the wrath of King Edmund.
You have until the next new moon to visit Northwic and renew your vows of fealty to the king. Else he will strip you of your title and take your villa for spoils. Do not defy him.
Bishop Romulf, Advisor to His Majesty, King Edmund
Ealdorman Lerion,
Glory awaits. The alliance we have forged is sealed by our mutual affection for the Ancients and the power they bequeath. Have no doubts, the Mercian throne will be yours. Soon your great line of Wuffingas will be restored to a power they have not seen in generations.
Give thanks to the Ancient Ones for what is to come. Summon all those spirits that give us strength. Ready your fyrd, and await my signal. And do give my fond wishes to your beloved daughter, Cordelia.
Aella Rex of Northumbria
Thegn Leofwine,
Lerion's estate is a dire place. On our initial visit, we intended to detain Lerion's three daughters—Cordelia, Regan, Goneril—and seize all lands and property. But they were violent and intransigent. At our approach, they accosted us with curses and clods of mud and feces. A sickening display.
I returned a fortnight later with a larger contingent of men to carry out the eviction, but the villa and its surrounding grounds had been vandalized, destroyed, and looted. The daughters have absconded to God knows where, and their hearts are full up with malice. Have a care as you move about the grounds.
Thegn Aethelstan
Thegn Leofwine,
As a reward for bringing the treasonous acts of Lerion into the light, King Edmund wishes to award you a third portion of the former Ealdorman's estate. Arrangements for Lerion's daughters must first be made. They will make poor wives for the Thegns of East Anglia, but unions with Mercia and Wessex may prove fruitful.
King Edmund continues to worry over the Danes and their leeching demands. Let us leave aside all other conflicts and face this challenge head on, together.
Thegn Aethelstan
Ealdorman Lerion,
My loyalty is absolute, old friend. You shall have the men you ask for and more, but only if you can make clear assurances that the promised aid from Aella of Northumbria will come. If he backs your claim to Mercia, then I shall as well. But I must have proof. I must have your oath.
Swear upon a holy rood and deny the rumors that you dabble in blood-magic, and you shall hear the march of feet and the drum of hooves one week from the Christ-Mass. God willing, Mercia and East Anglia will be joined as one, and the Wuffingas will rule once more.
Thegn Leofwine
Observations upon entering the late Ealdorman Lerion's estate.
Little of value remains in the villa and upper grounds. His three daughters appear to have burnt, stolen, or destroyed everything of minor value.
The family crypt below the villa contains more promise, though the space is marred by the horrifying iconography of a sickened mind.
At the center of the crypt is a statue roughly rendered in the shape of the late Lerion. Three slits or impressions in its back seem to want for a key of some kind.
Surely his absent daughters know the truth, but they have not been seen since a week following their father's execution for treason.
I will remain here for a time and see what other mysteries, and perhaps answers, I can discern.
Thegn Leofwine
A blood-rotten bile of curses down the throat of treasonous Leofwine! Thunder and lightning of Thunor upon the petty head of pious Edmund! A scourge of Dane spears in the bloated guts of galling Aella!
Black curses on you ALL for defying so great a man! Lerion FATHER. Lerion KING. Lerion DIVINE. We will devour all those who defied him!
R - G - C
Northwic[]
The people grow desperate. The raiders grow fierce. These tithes must be protected. I have moved them from my house to the church's second floor. Surely, none would desecrate this holy sanctum?
I will be the guided god-hand! Freyr's breath will kiss the hollows of my dice! I will be the face of Orlog! All will know me as the dice king! I will show them all! I will receive his blessing ... somehow.
This cat. He must be a witch's familiar! One moment he's here, and when I turn my head, he is gone! He leaves no paw prints in the mud, nor do leaves rustle when he passes. I must be mad.
The invaders worm deeper into East Anglia every day. We must be frugal and prepare for the worst, Hilda. Take your valuables, your silver, and stash them away. They will not look in the longhouse attic.
Or for our sake, I pray they do not.
The pagans ordered King Edmund to renounce God and all that is holy. But even beaten, bound, and bludgeoned, our lord held fast to his faith. Our monarch bid them do their worst, for he would not bend to their will. With their cruel barbs, the heathens martyred him in this place.
A wandering monk spread rumors of a Roman ruin sotheast of Northwic. Duty compels me to search such a site, but here are darker things in these lands than rogue Danes, or so the monk says.
For now, I shall quell my quickening heart. The ruins have survived many winters, they may wait longer. I must stay alive long enough to explore them.
Ruined Tower[]
Aric! Rued claims we took treasure from our last raid but denied him his rightful share. You know we found nothing! Those Saxon farmers must have stashed it. Find it, before Rued exiles us ... or worse. One of the farmers spoke of an underground vault, but he ... did not survive my questioning. Find this vault, Aric, before Rued finds us.
Scotthoh Farm[]
Every day, the Danes draw nearer. The others have fled to Northwic, but we ... we shall stay. These are our homes.
Smoke over the trees now. Thatch roofs burn so bright. Rued's raiders spare neither man nor woman, kith nor kin.
We hear them laughing as they walk up the road. It is time, and may God have mercy on us all.
Seahenge[]
I have come upon these ancient timbers, tarred for preservation, to mark my sacred symbol and pinpoint the source of their power.
As I pray, the Lord sends through me the voice of a Holy Spirit. It reverberates with the finery of ancient language, and I am made anew.
Were these timbers carried by the Nephilim? Barriers against invasions from afar? Please Lord, let this truth shineth upon me as bright as your Word doth.
- Brendan of Clonfert
Serpent's Landing[]
We have taken Serpent's Landing. The road to victory is clear for Rued Jarl. We have broken this kingdom, their warriors are like headless fowl with no king to lead them in battle. East Anglia is ours this day.
Sunken Glory[]
This is how I die? Alone, stranded, left for dead on a ship that is now naught but driftwood. By the hand of other Odin-sons. The sails are torn, the sharks circle, and I will die a hapless fool, denied a glorious death of battle. The Valkyries ride not for me ... already the cold draft of Niflheim chills my face as its gates open. May you die a cursed death, Rued, so that my men and I may meet you in Hel, axes and sticks in hand.
Sutton Hoo[]
Listen, you dung-handlers. Chief told me to patch up the wall, and I did it. Our oil's just beyond, so don't have those torches around unless you want to join the feast of the dead in their moldering graves.
I seen it again. I told Ulfric what I seen but he do not take no heed of me. Nobody do. They do not feel the cold piercing me in the dark like an arrow in the back of the skull. They are too drunk, too numb. But it is too dark here for my liking. We ought to scurry back to Theotford. Somehwere not so cold...
Theotford[]
Osric, hide the food and silver plate in the church. These devils would dare not besiege a monument of God! But we can never be sure, so bar the door too. We shall return for what is ours.
-Wynnstan, Reeve of Theotford
Essexe[]
Dear Lord who lives in heaven. I am tired of the children pelting my door with turnips. I am weary of being called an old maid. And I am doubly sick of having to niddle my own nub. I need a husband. Someone young, virile, with red hair. Like that lad who lives over yonder in the house with the scarlet flowers. Actually, can I just have him?
Your faithful servant, Cynewise
Agnitum Tower[]
Charly says Meow. Meow. Meow. He likes to eat the rats here about and loves it when I sing to him. Whistle and he'll come to you. Like a good puss.
Colcestre[]
Long ago before the Romans came, this was the home of fearsome Celtic warriors, the Trinovantes. After teh Romans invaded, they made short work fortifying against the heathens. Raising the earth and building a fortress. This occupation only lasted six years.
Then the old soldiers married the local women and settled the land, building a town around the old fort. Such ingenuity, such industry. I wish that I could meet one, we would speak of such things.
Brother Harold
A temple dedicated to their God-Emperor Claudius. The grandest of all buildings in Colonia Claudia. They venerated him as we do our saints. With a symbol of civilization and occupation. Little wonder then that Boudicca the Queen of the Iceni burned it to the ground.
I will ask Birstan for some funds to preserve what is left.
Brother Harold
Camulodunum bureau[]
GENVS PACTI
Execution
The Iceni grow impatient for reforms – Four decades after Boudicca, the Romans are unyielding – Citizenship denied to all but outsiders – Requests and pleas sent to Governor Verus and Imperator Domitian remain unanswered – It is time to speak in words the Senate cannot ignore – Verus must die Kal. Mai. at noon – Make a spectacle of it.
CONTRAHIT
Acolytus Anicius
STATVS
Success'
Colcestre brothel (unmarked location)[]
Brother Musevus: delights in oil. The hotter the better.
Brother Alexander: seeks the company of the sweetest of beards.
Brother Martin: Two ladies (one blonde, the other excessively hairy)
Brother Asen: he likes to drink. And watch.
Brother Michael: goats (make sure Philippa has her horns filed)
Friar David: candles (we must order more from the priory)
Brother Tepavus: rough
Ealdorman's House[]
How fascinating the Roman practice of bathing. That they would build a place whose sole purpose was the cleanliness of the body. But as I think on it, a clean body denotes a clean mind. A godly pursuit. The baths in this town were used until at least the year 500. Were the people here still living as the Romans did? Even after the last soldier fled our shores?
Brother Harold
Sancta Helena's Church[]
We have always build anew upon the foundations of the past. Stealing its stone. Covering antiquity with straw and mud. What should I expect from peasants and fools?
Now Birstan has refused to fund my further research into the history of our town. He prefers to spend his coin on hunting and festivals. And all the while they tear down the Roman walls. History is little more than rubble to build their brothels and alehouses upon.
Brother Harold
When my mother forced me to enter the seminary, I hated her. Who would have thought that it would be the making of me? Well, the making of my fortune. These God-fearing knee-breakers pour their silver upon me. A blessing here, a benediction there. Coin in exchange for a good word in their God's hollow ears. Soon I will have enough to leave this hovel and start a new life. Perhaps Paris calls to me?
Halstead Outpost[]
If someone finds the key from the Oil storage, please bring it back. We need the oil for the lanterns. It was last seen in the possession of those mongrels Cuthbert and Edwin, who were drunken and rowdy by the well.
King Aescwine's Tomb[]
Aescwine king of Wessex. Son of Cenfus, who was son of Cuthgils. He is buried here with all his treasures.
For he defeated the damned Mercian invader Wulfhere.
Maeldun[]
Friends. I know how much hardship there has been since the soldiers took control of the salt works. That was our livelihood. I understand that tensions might be running high. But please refrain from using the oil jars as a fiery protest. There is not much of our fair Malden left unsinged.
Your comrade, Brother Thomas
Maldon. Is it too much to ask that we stop setting ablaze those structures still standing? I understand your frustrations with the state of our fair town, but all these "accidental" infernos are only hurting ourselves.
Yours in consternation, Brother Thomas
People of Malden. Please stop setting the army's sheep on fire. The poor creatures have suffered enough.
Brother Thomas
Enough, Malden. No one enjoys high jinx more than me, but due to the number of oil-based fires, I cannot in good conscience allow unlimited access to such incendiary material. Therefore, all oil jars in the village have been collected and placed under lock and key. If you behave like children, you will be treated as such.
Yours in exasperation, Brother Thomas
Brothers and sisters. I would like to rebuild the church. I dream that it will become a center of peace and contemplation for all those in need. A safe haven in these difficult times. Any donations towards this endeavor are graciously received.
Yours, Brother Thomas
Maeldun's Saltern Camp[]
Who would have thought that these white crystals harvested in the marshlands of Essexe would be more valuable than silver? As it should be, the process is a labored one. Cutting into the silt marshes, lining them with clay to stop them succumbing to vegetation. All for salt. What a difference it makes to the sweaty overcooked meat they insist on serving in teh alehouses here. I cannot wait to return to my beloved Francia.
And soon with the money I have skimmed off this operation, I will see her shores again.
Old Cellar[]
Here lies a thirsty Giant,
His mouth in need of drink.
Quench his thirst tenfold
to obtain his precious Trinket
Old Gravesham Bridge[]
We sacrifice these bodies and coins to the foundation of the new bridge.
May it stand tall for centuries to come.
Port Walton[]
Attention!
This is now the site of an oil factory by order of Aelfred for the needs of his army.
Follow the ingredients to the letter at the bottom of this message. Do not forget to put a fuse. This is mandatory.
1 Big or Small RED Jar
2 Whale Oil
3 Fuse! (do not forget the fuse)
Sancta Maria's Abbey[]
It is a great honor that our farm has been chosen to make the Lammas loaf. It is known that we make the best bread in Essexe. But the sacred bread must be even worthier as a gift for the life-giving sun. You must use the first grain of the season. Sour a handful of flour with water or milk and leave out in the open for a few days to ferment. Or better yet, add the foam from the abbot's beer for a lighter, more flavorsome loaf.
I am trusting you with this important task, my son. Do not fall asleep by the griddle and burn the loaf.
Wulfaswic[]
I dot not know how many raids and attacks we have suffered. I have ceased to count the hordes that come. Bandits, Vikings, wild animals. OUr numbers are not so few, and I fear we cannot stay here another night in safety. Now only the ghosts of our ancestors will roam the lands we once called home.
Cenric
Eurvicscire[]
Od's blood, but that's a right shiny haul of hack. Guess wot that bishop won't mind we pinched his offerings, eh? All them poor wee widow's tithes, goin' to fill me belly full of drink!
Freyja wields freely the craft of seidr
Born of elves, for boon and bane
Sometimes, I fear if I let the beacons fade, darkness will wash over this land like a rising tide.
Such things prey on a man's mind as you walk the lonely wall. Light the beacons.
Hrolf the Watcher
We took this fort first, long time ago. When we landed. Promised us a green land and lots of food.
Well, things change. I cached supplies and warm clothes nearby for hunters and traders in need. Keep the beacons lit.
Hrolf the Watcher
Anlaf's Lookout[]
Too many travelers have vanished near the waterfall for my liking.
Trygve,
The men north of the wall grow bolder as winter grows deeper.
They now cross the wall, pushing far into Northumbrian territory.
Beg Hemming Jarl to send more men to—
Cnuic Fhada Ruins[]
Aerinmund my son, they raided the village, but your mother and I fled to safety. Our family heirloom is secure, and we are hiding in the ruins. Meet us there when you find this. Then we shall all find succor in Jorvik.
Dalby Forest[]
So too my mother taught me moon-magic
I wield it now on those who wronged me
Donecaestre[]
Brother,
Here's a goodly cache of fine iron. It's nay for smelting nor for barter.
This iron we wield against the heathen when next we rise.
Northumbria shall be numbered one of God's Kingdoms once again.
O, aye, and burn this note.
–A Friend
Thorfulf, a godi has little use for blood picks and battle plates, yet your former gear rusts in the attic, taking up precious space. Find a use for it, or I shall gift it to the next skald who crafts a better kenning.
Mildreth dear,
Have a care when y0ou serve Lord Halfdan. He grows wroth at the slightest thing these days and rages at all.
Last fortnight, he had that poor server tossed into a pig-sty for spilling a dash of wine out of his bloody unicorn's horn!
Hemthorpe[]
Isurium Aldburg[]
Bridei, scout ahead with your band of warrior women, those who well wield the ash-bow. Stay hidden and stay safe.
Ritual Circle[]
Jorvik, your name means naught but sin
Burn and bleed now, yield to Loki's yoke!
Stenwege Camp[]
To every chief and lord of Pictland, from the highlands to the isles. Too long we have suffered the raids of the heathen Danes.
This winter, as they feast and fatten themselves on their ill-gotten gains, we shall strike at the very heart of their power, the ancient fortress of Magnis!
Further word shall follow.
Venutius Tomb[]
My ardor for deadly devices got the best of me in the cave filled with swamps. I created far too many traps.
It is just too enjoyable to imagine the bloody results!
But I grow short of supplies. In this frozen cave I will limit myself.
However, those that I build will be all the deadlier.
- Manius
Hail our fallen hero, the good
Venutius
A man strong of arm
He felled many a thieving Roman
But paid with his head
In my explorations I have come upon this ancient cell.
I have meditated here and have heard voices of the past as though my ancestor's memories flow and surge in my blood.
Could it be? Are the legends my mother told me true? Was this the place my long-ago forebear was imprisoned?
A tale of betrayal by the gods themselves runs in my veins. A tale of a Valkyrie crashing to earth.
A tale of the vengeance I must take.
I return to this ancient prison from time to time to think of my mother and what she told me.
It is quiet. Thoughts of my many-generations-ago grandmother held captive here bring memories of my mother's words.
When Freya's medallion senses the presence of the One-Eye, then, only then, will my long-ago grandmother's legacy be revealed.
Wiccan's Cave[]
A hex upon thee, ye who spit at me!
May your bones turn to stone
May your hunger never cease
May your heart turn to bone
May your blood run to the sea
Till the horns sound upon the Last Day
So I curse thee and so mote it be.
A bounteous feast awaits
The Bold, unfaltering step
Beware foul fowl and beast
Revenge is the dish they serve
Glowecestrescire[]
Come all! The annual rolling of the contest. Winner take glory and cheese with him.
It is as I foretold. Someone has seized the lead of the shire, but I could not have foreseen the widow of our fallen ealdorman would be so bold. Her soldiers are everywhere, her taxes no less so.
Despire my hopes, It seems the mask is more myth than fact. A shame, an enchanted item that allows the wearer to pass between the doorways between worlds. I've combed these hills in search, but my stocks are low and my back is sore. See you at home.
-Bran
Aelfwood[]
Mother Modron said I am still unprepared for the role of a guard. She does not see the true extent of my power.
No matter. I need not recognition to fight for the cause.
Tried to lie down in a cave for rest and was shooed off by some hooded creatures with skull faces. I'll not rest anywhere in this cursed place!
Belas Knap[]
Only those touched may pass through Belas Knap and venture onward to worlds unspoken.
Cragstone Watchtower[]
Mother,
I have gone to Sabrina's Spring to bring back a cleansing for the sickness that has overtaken this land. If I do not return, know that I love you and I tried. The curse was just stronger than my feet.
Druid's Cottage[]
Another year of early blossoms. Have you sent them from your side? Always the soothsayer in life, I can see you keeping the gods as a captive audience on the other side. Boots has had another litter. We'll be rich in cats as we were in love. Sleep well, my beast.
Glowecestre[]
Bran left three nights ago. Fool. The fae are none to be trifled with, no matter the worth of a cursed mask. Kenhelm, cast your watchful eye over my fool of a brother. Keep him safe in your woods.
One of the little folk asked me to make the door smaller, as he wants to keep unruly houseguests from his house. After the nonsense with the druid last fall, I can see his point.
Bethan,
How much more stone can we carry from the quarry in Aelfwood? I thought the job would be going quicker, but the rot's all the way in the foundations. Church fathers might be onto something saying this place is cursed.
If we can't find the stone, I suppose we can just start cannibalizing some of the ruins in the woods.
-D.
Ready your little ones for Samhain's celebrations!
Turnip Carving! Hoodening! Bobbing for Apples!
Round of Prayer to Start the Evening at Sundown!
I am to be Ealdorman. It came as quite a shock, as I have made my interest in furthering my path in the duty of Christ. The Fathers said that though my heart lies with the cloth here in Winchcombe, the Lord has need of me elsewhere. Heresy, devil worship, and hedonism plagues Glowecestre proper like locusts. I am to be their new shepherd, freeing them from the devil's bondage and leading the good people back to His side. I just hope they will be my willing lambs.
Sabrina's Spring[]
Kind Sabrina,
Please protect our people from evil wrought by dark magicks and colluding with the devil. Protect my family from the sickness that was wrought at the town of Cragstone.
St. Kenhelm's Falls[]
Dafydd is content with a life of a shepherd, but my gaze goes higher. What is a lord but a man with more gold, more land, and more to lose? Legends tell of riches, artefacts, hidden around Glowecestre that could buy more than a plot of land. I will bring back these items: Fae Treasures of Belas Knap, the ring of Silvanus, and who knows what else, and raise us as lords!
-Bran
To whomever finds this treasure: Good job! I stumbled across this cave and decided to leave a little gift.
Temple of Ceres bureau[]
GENVS PACTI
Execution
The new Church of Rome has found sturdy footing in the isle of Britannia, yet our past support of these same worshippers goes unrecognized – Executions of Belgae pagans are a routine occurrence in the streets of the city – Our pleas for compromise fall upon deaf ears – Imperator Theodosius is unresponsive – We must send a message – Three church fathers – Vitus, Secunda, Agapitus must die in a public spectacle – Remind the Romans that Britannia is home to numberless tribes.
CONTRAHIT
Acolytus Teague
STATVS
Partial success – Target killed – Magister succumbed to wounds
Magister Sebastos,
Forgive my spirited tone, but this evacuation order from Magister Vitus in Londinium seems premature and cowardly. For over three centuries the Hidden Ones have worked in the shadows of this empire to protect its subjects from the worst abuses of numberless Caesars and their petulant whims.
Yet now, as the empire recedes and our protections begin to bear fruit, we are told to abandon our post? Madness. Have all our efforts come to nothing? Will our noble Sisterhood let these violent but few voices who oppose our presence sing loudest? We must be better than this, I am sure you will agree.
Your friend and sister in shadows,
Magister Maya
ALTERIVS NON SIT QVI SVVS ESSE POTEST
Temple of Nodons at Dwarf’s Hill (unmarked location)[]
My search for the ring of Silvanus has proved fruitless. Stolen from the temple by before I arrived by who knows what. A ring is something so tiny, it could be hidden in a pocket for all we know. I have found a lead towards another treasure: the Mask of Janus.
–Bran
Grantebridgescire[]
Torolf,
Meet me by the gates at first light. I'll take you to see the nudies hanging about in a small camp out west. They're bare arsed, so there won't be anything to take, but bring some ale and we'll have a few good laughs.
By the holiest of virtues, please Lord, give me the strength to forgive my foes, for I struggle to do so. Many moons ago, I told them that You O Highest Above would never judge one of Your creatures unfit. I told the many nobles of Grantebridgescire: Tryeth the airs of Him with no skin-blockers! All of our lives were not meant to be abdicated by the walls to our bodies.
Henceforth we have all been nude, yet these crows go home clothed, perform Witans and moots clothed.
Aelfred must disrobe even, he joined us once when he was ploughing his servant. I pray forgiveness and guidance. God Is Great.
By decree of the many nobles of Grantebridgescire, and the hundred and the witenagemot, the Various Thegns of this, Boudicca's Pond.
We no longer allow the presence of the usurper and criminal Winchell the Ursurper.
He is forbidden from speaking or holding court in our waters for the nude and privately so. He should be removed by force from his rock. A nuisance to us all.
Signed,
The Merry Nobles of Grantebridgescire
- wear Dane uniforms at AT ALL TIMES
- no personal items or clothing may be visible
- Dane accent is recommended but not required, ask Sigeweard for tips if needed
- any approaching ships or travelers must be reported IMMEDIATELY, avoiding alarms or loud shouting
- DO NOT ATTEMPT TO SAIL THE LONGSHIP AGAIN
Earnningstone[]
Thegn Wimbald,
Your offerings have been quite generous. My men fight well, they sleep well, and they are in good spirits, and it is all because they are well fed.
Their efficiency is key to our victory, so it remains imperative that this partnership continues until the Danish threat is obliterated, for the sake of all who call Grantebridge their home.
Rest assured the Order of the Ancients recognizes your contributions and will see to it that you are adequately rewarded.
Wigmund
Grantebridge[]
There is a tree that stands on a hill of graves. And in these graves are the rotting corpses of sinners, doomed to everlasting suffering.
Their bodies tortured by the tree's roots, their souls tangled in its thorned branches and there remain.
To be buried on this hill is to be denied the afterlife.
Members of the Order,
Grantebridge is ours. The one they call Soma retreated to the bog where she belongs, her army dismantled. Today, we usher in a new era.
A man reportedly known as Egil the Fornicating Crow has broken several laws by stealing food and murdering several innocent Danes whom had hoped to trade with him.
He is tall and brooding and is wanted under Dane law, the rule of Aelfred and Burgred, and the laws of God.
Othswith, Scire Reeve
Dear Mother,
Every night I pray and proclaim to the heavens: Dear God Why So Many Rats!
I regret to inform you I cannot pay my food tax nor send you the oats and barley for your beer and porridge. The taste of your beer and porridge brings me so much joy, however the rats of our land have taken the counsel of the devil and own the fertile soils like serpents in heaven. I pray to God every day and night they will one day grant me freedom from their pestilence.
Your faithful son,
Cyneburt the Infested
Isle of Ely Monastery[]
She waits in the marsh! A cruel and ghastly wretch. To disturb her is to awaken a demon. One who will eat your soul! Stay away. STAY AWAY!
Manius's Sanctum[]
I am struck by the unusual stone structures found in the tombs.
I cannot believe that Britons, who live in huts of hay, could have carved such columns.
Some long-forgotten peoples must have erected them.
- Manius Calvisius, Engineer to the Emperor
Manius, I know you to be a capable engineer with a cunning and sometimes diabolical imagination. I am therefore assigning you this weighty commission.
The barbarians of Britain have taken to gathering at the tombs of their heroes as if at sacred shrines. There they foment rebellion against Rome and therefore against my very person.
This cannot be tolerated.
However, Manius, I have consulted my soothsayer, a man of subtle knowledge. The auguries tell him that to defile the tombs or even to seal them away would bring a storm of ill fortune upon me personally.
You see the problem.
You must leave the tombs unharmed but endeavor to make access to them so parlous as to be unthinkable.
I am not asking of you a favor, Manius. This is a command from your emperor.
Nero Claudius Caesar Augustus Germanicus
All the tombs are now protected by my contraptions.
Yet I am defeated by this final entrance! What could lie behind it? How does one open its odd gateway?
It is perhaps the one problem I cannot solve.
- Manius
Emperor Nero has given me a task born of madness. I am to prevent the Britons from gathering at the tombs of their fallen heroes.
Yet I cannot simply build a wall! Our mad emperor insists that it be possible to approach the tombs, but mandates that all who attempt to do so shall perish.
My duty is to do as he wishes, however nonsensical. And so I shall.
- Manius Calvisius
I lured a credulous Briton into one of the spinning traps.
Successful dismemberment.
The tests with the animals went badly. I must sharpen the spikes!
Middletun[]
I do not have long now, a few hours at the most. This place is as good as any. A beautiful view of the setting sun or the bright stars should I last into the night.
I have met people so afraid to die alone, but as I lie here writing this, I see there is nothing to fear. After all, it is a journey we must all take alone, with no one and nothing in tow.
And so to whoever should find me, I leave you this key to my home, in hopes that that which I leave behind can find new meaning.
Gratian's Villa Ruins[]
Dearest Gratian,
Your performance at the battle of Adrianopolis was unfortunate, however the army is loyal to you here. We would like to march on Gaul and defend it, as many of our men are native to it.
The soldiers long for your inspiring speeches and the young fire you imbibe them with in battle.
Please meet me in Lyon at your behest. We will make plans to take Thrace once more.
Magnus Maximus
Ravensburg[]
Thegn Randwald,
Enclosed is a small gift to show my gratitude for all you’ve done. The men are well trained and are eager for war. I have never seen a group of soldiers more ready to reclaim what is rightfully theirs, nor more ready to defend it once they do.
Your loyalty is unmatched and I know your continued support is something I can rely on. Victory will be ours.
Wigmund
Soham Hideout[]
Lord,
I trust all is well in Lincoln, and that the fruits of the shire are plenty and sating. I am writing to you from the neighboring shire of Grantebridge, where the men and I have nestled in a bog. Here we are building an encampment with the help of priests from the local monasteries. They were given two options and chose the one which kept them alive. Once we've no use for them, we'll send them your way. Let them know there is a new God they may serve.
Billfrith
Wandrie[]
Thegn Esefrith,
Rest assured that I understand your reticence. It is important your people maintain their trust in you. We cannot afford an uprising.
The guards I have sent along with this letter will ensure order is kept in your domain. Let them absorb any push back from the ceorls.
Lord Wigmund
Hamtunscire[]
I have committed to maintaining the Hill figure, using flour and chalk of the Dover Cliffs. This act is one in which I commit myself to the great work of the Britonnic fathers and mothers who placed it here to remind us of the gods' work.
I water the griounds at night so the earth around it is properly nourished. And during the day, I sweep and weed out any vermin.
None shall know my true name
But let the Dark Horses ride with me.
Beonsby
You Who Touch This Are Cursed!
Dashed to the Devil's Home!
These are the possessions of the Sacred Few.
Your touching them means your head shall roll.
A letter written by Faith's mother about her little kind daughter Faith, who had to be taken to the church to become a servant of God.
To Any True West Saxon
The Heathens are closing in, and damn them to hell, I will not let one of their filty paws touch my hoard. I baptized every coin myself and will not let the devil's barbarians handle them!
If you are reading this, it is because you understand the language of the Anglish and you will most likely smell my corpse nearby. Please bury me in a proper Christian grave and keep the holy riches from the heathens.
Praise be to the West Saxons
By Saint Withsun, I cannot take this anymore!
These mad bandits of the Meon Valley torment me. I am a humble chopper of trees, feller of the sacred weald. I have prayed and spoken with monks at various scriptoriums, pleaded they call to arms, but they sai it is un-Christian.
I have turned my axe onto humans to protect us after what occurred to Aescwine and Margrith, who sheltered me yet were struck.
Chad, if you are reading this, know that I have found solace near the southern great wall of Wincestre in order to keep these marauders at bay.
Your brother, Chadfirth
My lord, another shipment has gone missing in that wretched swamp. My men won't stop talking about ghosts and evil spirits, and some of them are refusing to go in at all. Will you speak to the reeve? Something must be done.
Lord Odda you are to attack the Danes docked near Uffentune at once. Act swiftly and with the fear of God in your heart. Send word once the battle is won and Wessex is saved.
Aelfred Rex
Afon Blockade[]
Our scouts report Chieftain Ubba will be attempting to surprise us on the Afon river. Be ready, and do not spare him as he is considered a criminal in this trying war with the Danes.
Signed,
Reeve Goodwin
Calleva Outpost[]
How long were we down here with nothing but drink and a sense of the most brutal loyalty?
Only the gods know. Long enough for our brothers to leave without us, traitors all! Heading for the coast, back to Rome, tails between their legs. Caesar's finest.
Septimus always was keen to be rid of us, that stiff-necked bastard.
There are pagans outside. We can hear them now, grubbing up about there. And we all know what pagans do to prisoners. Three of us, against all of them? No chance. I'm not setting foot outside till they're gone.
We've secured this cellar as best we can, and taken what refuge we were able. Now I'm going to take a drink, and another, and another.
And then we'll see.
Find here our names if the Empire ever returns.
Constantinus Tenebris
Michael Os
David Cumine
Last true soldiers of Legio IX Hispana.
I have fallen asleep too often while working. My dreams are hard-working. Nothing else fills me with joy.
Need more silver, Mum!
Thanks,
Tuicca the Tired
Chepeham[]
This Horse lives beneath the hill next to the river at Uffington and emerges on the mist of Saint Guthlac's Feast day to punish those who are not pious enough.
The white frame is the conduit for its crepuscular rebirth.
It feasts on the spirit of ancients until returning to its spot. If you sleep next to it, your third-born child will have a horn.
They honey of bees in the region is tainted with blood when the horse neighs. Be wary, young men turn to stone in its presence and beautiful women lose their hair if the horse neighs at them.
The Neigh-Listener of Uffington near the Hill facing the Big Swan-Road
(only available in Discovery Tour: Viking Age)
Bjorn looks for a true sea-king to honour.Thorsteinn Oathbreaker lies.
Bjorn is a good sea-rider and warrior. He will bring us many riches.
Welcome him in our felag, my jarl. I trust him.
Frode.
Cippanhamm Garrison[]
To the key maker at Wincestre:
A bastard and sinner named Siedfred lost our last key while on duty operating the crane. Our sincerest apologies as he also died consumed by the plague, and we know not where he kept a spare. Our lord will punish us if we are not sent a new key before the next day of Saturn.
The Soldiers of Chippenham Garrison
Clausentum Bandit Hideout[]
Death to Aelfred, The Elf-Troll
Death to Aethelwulf, the Bastard of Ecgbert.
Death to Aethelswith, the Gaini Troll.
Death to Aethelbald, the Lazy.
Death to Aethelred, the Mercian ceorl.
Long Live Queen Saexburh of the People of the Gewisse
She is our true queen regnant and all men who have passed in her wake have failed to rule as she once did. She rules as the Home of the Dagger.
Fearnhamme[]
Mommy Me Daddy
("Daddy" is scratched out)
Well, Mother, one thing is certain! Farnham is a bore. I feel we await war. And painting is the most terrible thing. The colors of nature are enough, why bother?
My next poems will be a celebration of the colors of the world that God gave us, and not the ones we for some stupid reason have decided we need to paint.
Please send silver, for I am so lonely and need the resources to brood.
Your son,
Tuicca the Scop of Worldly Things
Henge Farm[]
For the Eyes of Bega:
I have hidden the firing oils for the Summer Solstice celebration inside my chicken coop. We used the oil at church and had it stored near the altar for many moons and the children nearly burned the entire diocese down. A ghastly oversight. Let the devils find their mischief elsewhere.
Yours,
Swineswirth of Chertsey
Isu Barracks[]
At the cavern in which you find yourself.
See before you these twelve pillars,
Twelve seats for Britain's riches,
And the sword of the Ancient Ones,
Called Caledfwlch, defender of this isle
Let one who undertakes to seek these gifts,
And love this land, bear this sacred weapon.
–Arthur Pendragon
Readingum Abbey[]
The Groans of the Britons
We mustn't forget the pleading we made to the north and west for help against the invading tribes of Angles and Saxons.
To our venerable Britonnic companions in Alt Clut and Pictlands: God Walks With You.
As the wisdom in me grows. I realize life is devotion to God. As King Cynegils learned, shall I pass down to all: God Rules the West Saxons.
Gildas the Wise
Red Lichen Cavern[]
Our bannermen have fallen. We need more banners. The Danes take them and use them as sails for their fast ships. Without banners that smell of the cave's blessed red lichen, warriors are not as battle-ready. It is the blood of Christ that curdles below the earth, and when it is on our banners, we take the heathens to war with the power of God.
A brother working under the tutelage of Saint Haedde's Cult
A legend's mantle awaits you
But death is silent
And hides in clouds
Only fire can cleanse
Runcwuda Abbey[]
A true king is a Christian king
Do not listen to the Anglians and Saxons who torment us with warrior-oaths and tales unexplained by God and His rule. Saint Mael Dub left us his reliquaries full of the great words. He left us with teachings from Bede and Saint Wilfrid. They fill the Malmesbury Monastery and the church at Reading.
For Mael Dub and the early heroes of our Christian Spirit, their pilgrimages trace out the lands upon every blade of grass their pious feet can still be smelt.
Amen, Gildas the Wise
Werham Barracks[]
We suspect our captain is taking money from the tax coffers to pay for his ale and whores. Such a sinful man merits his ears and toes cut off. Under the laws of Aeldred, we are entitled to remove him from power.
Until justice is meted out upon him, we have hidden the key from him.
The Brothers of Wincestre
Praise God
Wocig[]
Only a stout and fearless heart
Finds the scarlet robe
Darkness is your cloak
And light will be your shroud
Jorvik[]
Lad, I dropped the key somewhere. The one for the chest we borrowed. Let me know if you can find it.
Gone to get me a bottle.
You little wanker, you brought them red dames to our Roman Tower, didn't you? Bloody showoff! If they take anything, I swear to God, I'll rip your arse out! Get over here right after you're done, you horny knobhead.
They got me, lad. The bitches got me. I hope you're happy. If you read this, just take the stuff at the Norse Temple and run. Tell your mother I'm sorry.
Uncle, gone to do some digging within the Theatre. I've heard whispers of great treasure hiding in the walls.
Post Scriptum. Sorry about the red lasses
To the Dockmaster, a shipment of silver and pelts from our friends at the Threaded Pass.
Three points to converge, a triad of infernal chaos and pain.
Once these conditions are met, my brothers in robes, the heathens will run with their axes tucked between their legs.
This city shall be cleansed.
The second floor is still unstable. We will retrieve the scrolls stored there when the repairs are complete.
Eboracum bureau[]
CAVETE!
Following the order of Caesar Magnus Maximus to withdraw all imperial troops from the north, our mandate to remain in Eboracum has weakened considerably. I have therefore mae the difficult decision to cease all operations in the North and West of Britannia, including our bureau in Jorvik.
All Hidden Ones are hereby ordered to return to our bureaus in Londinium and Camulodunum for further instruction.
MAGISTER MARCELLUS
OPERARE IN TENEBRIS UT LUMINI SERVIAS
Interloper, seek high if you wish to pass beyond. We have no further use for the tools that have failed us.
Q.D.B.V.[note 5]
GENUS PACTI
Execution
Imperator Severus flouts the terms of our treaty with Aurelius – He has arrived in Britannia to oversee the fortification and reoccupation of the Antonine wall – The Imperator must die of poison to avoid suspicion of foul interference – Infiltrate Eboracum villa with caution – Imperator's praetorians will be on high alert – Make contact with Centurion Calvinus on the morning of a. d. III Non Feb. – The Centurion is one of us and will provide you with the necessary cover.
CONTRAHIT
Magister Khloe
STATUS
Success
Ledecestrescire[]
It has now been six weeks, and Father has not returned home from Lincoln. Home before our tree sheds its last leaf, he told me.
But every day I peer outside there are more leaves on the ground and less in the trees. Sometimes I do not lonk at all for fear the tree by our home is bare.
But then I am struck by the hope I may see him riding over the fields back to me.
O, Father, where are you?
Alcestre Monastery[]
Everywhere I turn, there is sickness. It sweeps through this monastery like a plague. I hear their groans. The wailing. We have been burning the ones who've died for fear their corpses will infect the ground they are buried beneath. God help us.
Bardon Lookout[]
A small Ragnarsson troop was caught surveying Tamworth. Tried to make their escape, Leofrith, came roaring out the gates. Caught up and slaughtered the four men on his own.
If the brothers Ragnar want the lay of the land, they are going to have to try harder than that.
Cwcornwic[]
The Danes have begun launching raids on some of the smaller hamlets. The are ill-equipped to defend themselves, and that makes them easy targets. It may not seem like a great loss, but each place we fail to defend is one that they absorb. Death by a thousand cuts.
It is up to each and every one of us not to allow that to happen. Stay alert but be mindful. Feed yourselves. Get your sleep. There is no room for error.
Freyja's Cave[]
Warriors fight to impress, only half can go.
Odin's Mead Hall awaits the Einherjar,
Freyja's Fields take the rest.
The seer Voluspa tells Odin of their coming, six names pass her lips.
From far away, they ride to Valhalla, ready to accept their sacred duty.
Master of Hugrheim served her War Lord faithfully,
Until the day she chose to turn from his instruction and abandoned her duty.
Stripped of her armor, she was made mortal.
Banished to wander Midgard, her purpose removed.
Only Odin can see where her armor lays, a secret shared only with Freyja.
Offchurch[]
The situation has turned dire. The filthy Danes have taken Tamworth from me! I am trapped, hiding in a muggy crypt with no telling when I may resurface. This is unacceptable! The fate of Mercia now lies in the hands of my thegn, Leofrith, but I have no faith that he can succeed. He is a loyal rat, nothing more, and is now best served as my human shield.
And so, for this matter that must be resolved with the utmost urgency, I am writing to inform you that I have called upon your loyal hunters. And rest assured, you have my promise that this favor will not be forgotten.
The Lord King of Mercia
Ragnarsson Lookout[]
Last week it was laughter, songs, fires, and the smell of roast piglet. Days later, I hear nothing but the pitter-patter of rabbits and the cawing of crows who feed on the scraps. I see nothing but light smoke and burning embers. The army led by the sons of Ragnar is gone.
Many would see this for what it is, an abandoned settlement left to ruin. But for a blacksmith, in this desolate landscape lies a hoard of treasure. I will gather the tools and weapons left behind and bring them to Father. What is fair, we will sell. What is broken, we will melt.
I hate the Danes for what they take, but love them for what they leave.
Ragnarsson War Camp[]
Vegh,
Following this letter will be three freshly slaughtered hogs, twelve baskets of fruit, and twenty kegs of ale. Have a feast. Light fires. Bellow loudly at the stars. Announce yourselves to the Rat King of Mercia. He will not sleep this night. None in Tamworth shall.
Ratae bureau[]
GENVS PACTI
Espionage
Overtures to Imperator Aurelius have been successful – In exchange for a cessation of hostilities in the north, the Romans have agreed to withdraw from the Antonine wall – Imperator Aurelius is known to be a fair broker yet we must verify this withdraw for ourselves – Dispatch one of Magister rank to oversee troop movements and verify these orders have been carried out to the letter.
CONTRAHIT
Magister Eghan
STATVS
Success – troop withdrawals
Complete – treaty enforced
CAVETE!
Brothers and Sisters, I write bearing difficult news. With the death of Imperator Honorius, all hope of stability and balance in Britannia is lost. The time has come to leave these shores, to regroup and refocus our attention where it is needed most.
With the departure of the last Imperial Legions from this island a decade ago, the tribes and clans native to his island have moved swiftly to fill the vacuum, and few if none of their number have any love for our Brotherhood. I fear our work has been misunderstood in this land, but the time is long past for redressing these impressions.
All currently serving Hidden Ones are hereby ordered to vacate these premises. Should you wish to continue our great work, make your way to our Bureau in Cologne. You will be welcomed.
MAGISTER VITVS
OPERARE IN TENEBRIS VT LVMINI SERVIAS
Ravensthorpe[]
To my lost Love...
You were a guided light. A man. A husband. A king, in my eyes.
Though I will find no equal to you in this world, I will strive to live alone some measure of the life we had hoped to enjoy together.
A letter from Aelfgar arrived at the settlement, stating that Herefrith has fortified himself in Anecastre after turning on the people of Lincoln.
Put her people before herself.
A well-meaning fellow.
A trusting soul.
Alvis & Holger's House[]
Let me warn you, dear flyter
I'm more than I seem
A wordsmith's worst nightmare
Make bad poets scream (?)
Try ... Though I look like a dream (?)
Or ... But look like a dream (?)
Steam
Deem
Gleam
Your flyting has much improved since last we dueled, but I wish to give a small note. You use many lines akin to this:
"And this fight I will win"
"And your face I do scorn"
I have made it my own rule never to use this construction, as it places the emphasis quite in the weaker place an feels quite twisted around. This may work elegantly in a poem, but in flyting, it makes you sound desperate, and a flyter must NEVER SOUND DESPERATE. The words must flow as water, and not like water your words must flow.
How could I be I?
I who seeks beauty as a value above all!
It is a crime to live? I say to live is to paint!
And to borrow a token that bothers no one?
Injustice, I say! And I am colored as foul!
Telka – She's a smile like a horse, and her hair looks like straw // Throw some mead down her gullet, and meat in her maw
Gunnar – A missshapen old fool stuck bent over his forge // Just to look on that face always raises my gorge // (a bit weak?)
Randvi – Sigurd's wife? Ha! The woman's in love with a table. // She'd make love to the pawns and her maps were she able.
Holger – Too easy.
Bakery[]
Wilf,
I can scarcely say how many times I have sat down with the intention to write this letter.
It has at times begun with an apology for having abandoned you and our gang.
It has at other times begun with a condemnation of all that you have done to me and others that you call your dearest.
Today, it begins with a word: goodbye. As long as
(letter ends here with a scribble)
Eivor reassures me that this was my decision, and that I have earned my own freedom, but this is modesty. Without Eivor, I would still be hiding behind a name, still be in bondage to the family. Still stealing, still hurting, still killing. It was the encouragement and support I needed to finally take this step on the path to my new life.
I will give this new liberty a few days to sink in. But I must confess, that as the chains fall away, my heart is beaking a little quicker. Perhaps it is only circumstance and the euphoria of my new existence, but something in me was stirred, beyond simple admiration. If things continue this way, I may have to speak more candidly of my feelings, but until then, I will rest easy, bake bread, and look, smiling, toward the future.
Tarben,
I pray this finds you safe.
There is little time left for me now, though the fever comes and goes.
An infection. In a life of violence and battle, I am taken by an infection?
Perhaps it is the way of things.
Perhaps the quickness of the deaths I have visited upon the weak has numbed me to the slow ones.
The ones that give you time to consider.
I will not drag this letter out, as I am being dragged out.
The thirst for blood was instilled in you by me. It was not how you were made.
You were born kind, sweet, loving. Soft and healing.
Your strength is in that, despite your size.
I should have understood this, and let you be the pacifist.
So instead, while you still live, know that you can be.
Know you can stop fighting, stop killing. Stop seeking glory there. Instead, love. Heal. Embrace. Bake. Be the you I did not let you become. And when they remember me as "The Merciless", do not let it be with praise.
There is no glory in the power I wielded.
And in the next life, I will do better.
I love you.
Your Mother
Barracks[]
We are never safe. Constant vigilance. Keep your eyes and ears sharp. Keep your bodies strong. And keep your heads in the battle, even in moments of peace. Never let your guard down, for that is when they strike. And whoever keeps leaving their sweat-soaked wraps in the box with the clean ones, I will find you, and I will send you to Hel myself.
Blacksmith[]
(The handwriting is far too difficult to read.)
Gunnar! You did not give me ample warning of how charming the villagers are here. What a lovely bunch! And what is more, it is one of the few places I have been where I do not stand out quite so much as I am used to. I could get used to it! Next time I visit, I might just stay.
Rima
Brewery[]
In a cauldron, take last year's barley that's grown some colorful friends, roast it over a low fire until the stink is replaced with the smell of burned syrup
Take equel parts new wheat, soak it in clear ice water for two days, and add to the cauldron with enough water to fill to the top
Boil it over a hot fire for a morning, strain into a tub and re-boil the grains one more time
Add to a cooled broth five apples, a bush of lavender, one medium plant of sage, and a fist-sized ball of pine tar
Cover your tub and forget about your brew for twenty nights
Store in a barrel and keep for cold eves that need a bit of warming
Dearest Tekla,
Your hair is the color of autumn wheat,
Your voice flows like a spring thaw.
I long to warm your bed in the cold night,
And watch your breast heave gently as you dream.
Cartographer[]
Followed a ram in the northern range today. He climbed about halfway up a granite cliff face before he disappeared. At first I thought he had fallen when I wasn't looking, but upon closer inspection, it seems there may be a cave there. Not sure how deep it goes, but it at least fits a whole goat inside! Must remember to venture there with a rope and some tackle soon. Could be treasure inside!
Well! I found the cave that I was curious about. Larger than I expected, but not quite large enough. Turns out it was already occupied. Hard to tell if it was the same ram I saw before, but regardless he was not happy to see me. We had a brief standoff before he chased me out. Good thing the rope was dangling at the mouth othewise I would have been butted right off.
That said, I did see something glittering behind him... I'll mark it down. Could be a prize for someone braver than me.
Cattle Farm[]
Winfrith. Bertham has been coming around to see my Mayda. Twice now I have caught them sneaking out together and they may have been kissing. I am sure this concerns you as much as it does me. I suggest telling your son to find other pursuits! What is happening between them is very worrying.
Bronson
Ill tidings. Father has died. I know you thought him an ogre, we all did, but now that he is gone, I am finding myself picking the fond memories out of a pile of miserable ones. Tell me if you need me to come and visit, but for the moment, I have enclosed his pendant and what silver I found digging through his possessions. Enjoy it! And give my best to Winfrith.
Fishing Hut[]
My daughter and her husband did not exggerate: Arth truly is a soft little fellow. I can see why they sent him to me. If he wields an axe like he wields a fishing rope, though, I doubt I should let him near even the firewood! Not if I want him to keep all his toes. Seems my work is cut out for me, whether I teach him fighting or fishery. So much for retirement.
Perhaps I judged too quickly! Arth is proving himself to be quite the capable little fisher. He used a knot today I'Ve never seen before, and when I asked him about it, he said he did it in a dream! And sometimes he seems to know what the fish will do before they do! Maybe I'll give him a little more to do. Can't be too easy on him though, he may get lazy!
Had a wonderful conversation with Telka! It's been so long since I had the opportunity to discuss alchemical philosophy with anyone. Her thoughts on dreams as mirror realms reminded me of my berserker visions. I hope we have the opportunity to converse again soon. Such a bright mind. Perhaps I'll have her help teach Arth.
Fowl Farm[]
Curse you! I'm constantly distracted and it is all thanks to you! It's very hard to think of my responsibilities when I keep pondering the shape of your nose and the smell of your neck.
I don't want to wait to see you! Meet me tomorrow in the clearing near the trout creek around midday. Or perhaps I shouldn't give awya our meeting spot. To anyone reading this, I don't know what you're talking about. Who is Bertham?
I've never met him!
Mind your own business!
Dear Mayda,
I started writing about seven other letters to you, all of them terrible.
I don't really know what to say expect that you are always on my mind. And every time I see you in town, it feels like there are frogs swimming around in my stomach, but in a good way.
I'll be dreaming of you tonight.
Yours,
Bertham
Father,
I know you were afraid of what Bertham intends, but I want to tell you that we are very much in love. He makes me smile. I make him laugh. Winfrith and Leofric have given their blessing and we are thinking of finding a new place to live together (in the settlement of course!) that we may pursue what our hearts desire. I hope that you will grant us your blessing, too.
But more than anything, Father, I hope that with me seeking my own adventures in love, you will feel that you can do the same. You deserve to find this joy again. And I suspect there are more than a few women who would be happy to seek it with you.
I love you!
Mayda
I received your letter, and I should admit, we had a good laugh about it around the table. Bertham and Mayda are adorable, and I have never seen my son as happy as he has been since you and your lovely daughter joined this settlement. Perhaps instead of trying to stop them, we ought to follow their lead and bring our families together?
Yours,
Winfrith
Grain Farm[]
Check seeds for insects
Mark fields for barley, oats, rye
Check Tekla's wheat needs for the season
Review plow blade with Gunnar
The children are getting into such trouble lately! Just the other day, they brought in a whole box of squirrels they'd trapped and let them loose inside our house! There must have been twelve or thirteen of them, and it was pure chaos. They ran all about and covered all of my sailcloth in their droppings (the squirrels, I mean, not the children)! I know I am not encouraging such behavior, so I wrote in hopes that we might be able to form some sort of coalition and ensure that we are aligned on their discipline. Do let me know what you think.
Hidden Ones Bureau[]
Acolyte Hytham
You do yourself a great credit in accepting Master Basim's invitation to scour Northern Europe and cleanse it of our enemy. He has long talked of traveling north for just such a purpose. That he feels now is the right time and you are the right companion is a judgment the council does not second guess.
Basim has achieved great things in his time with our Brotherhood. We expect he will achieve many more in the years to come.
Head his actions and follow his instructions, and you shall ascend to greatness.
Work in the dark of oppression, serve the light of freedom, and be well.
–Mentor Rayhan
Hytham,
We are dismayed by the news of Basim's betrayal, yet only faintly surprised. His adherence to our creed had lately seemed secondary to a personal mania that has dogged him for many years. In sending him north, we had hoped the distance would focus his attention on his duty and distract him from obsessions. It seems instead he was chasing them.
At your soonest opportunity, we would hear from you in person to gain a full accounting. Our next council comes two summers from now. Mentor Fuladh of the Justanid region will host us at our newly constructed fortress Aluh-Amut in Deylam. We hope to see you there, if only to confer upon you a new title. For all you have achieved, the rank of acolyte is no longer suitable.
Until then, continue our great work as you have done so well, and bring our light to the darkened corners of this world.
With Peace, Justice, and Wisdom,
–Mentor Rayhan
Hunter's Hut[]
Four weeks ago was out with Yanli searching for rabbits (stew).
Not far out in northern wood. Found many rabbit scraps and skins and bones, clearly work of wolves.
Our traps mostly empty save one buck caught probably that morning. Yanli and I remained close, avoiding wolves.
Saw movement in bush, thought it was a wolf caught on one of our traps.
Yelled for Yanli to ensure she did not approach. Suddenly, beast emerges from bush.
Scale similar to bear cub, but ears gave it away.
Rabbit. Impossible size.
Huge.
It saw me and immediately ran. Faster than lightning. yanli also witnessed.
In bush, saw destroyed trap. Nothing could have caught this creature.
Wallace could have made entire coat from its pelt.
Could be a forest god.
Need bigger knife.
Ask Gunnar for new scraper
Collect pine bark in Western forest
Check with Petra about next week's hunt
Remind Knud not to shit in the piss pot
Wallace went missing on way home from Peterborough. Tracked him with Eivor.
Accidentally ingested mushrooms.
Saw magnitude of the universe and its divine complexities. Talked with White Elk. Found Wallace. Was glad.
Eivor very interesting. Striking. Powerful. But also very entertaining.
Would like to know more. Much more.
Also, need new skinning knife. Current one dull.
Kari's House[]
Kari, please let me back into your life. None of the others meant anything compared to you. Not even the very pretty ones. If you take me back, I swear I will be the husband you believed I was when we married.
Longhouse[]
We know such joy in this new land,
That it feels new to my heart.
And on this shore where I do stand,
I will make a new artistic start.
Thus I shout to the gods above to grant me their gifts!
Happiness!
Comfort!
Women! Men! Others!
Horses!
Things that bring joy!
Art! Painting! Epics!
Rhyme!
Other things as I think on them!
A wooden spoon!
Dog!
(this poem continues for several dozen pages...)
I wished to thank you and Eivor and the rest of the settlement for the great kindness you have shown me, and the things you have all taught me. Though I may have felt a nuisance at times, the days I spent with all of you were joyous and educational. Though I go now to do the work that I am meant for, I know that I will return to this place and its people one day, and I look forward to that. Take care, until we meet again.
Ceolbert
- Rowan wants more salt for the horses
- Tekla says Holger too loud in mornings
- Speak to Petra about grouse
- Yanli (Yan Li?) preparing fish for feast next week
- Octavian requesting wine
- Alvis teaching children insults
- Merton made very good fish pie. Request recipe
It is becoming increasingly difficult to look across the alliance table at Eivor and not think of what could be. I tell myself it is only Sigurd's absence, but the lie grows thinner, weaker by the day.
Randvi,
An acquaintance from my part of the wold now lives in Ireland. She hopes to forge ties of trade between us and Dublin. I believe this would be highly advantageous. Please consider it.
Azar dresses as a man, such a deception was necessary when she lived in the East, and in this she discovered her true self is of neither gender. It is no longer a deception. I hope to see her soon in Ravensthorpe.
-Hytham
Eivor,
Two visitors have arrived at Ravensthorpe from Francia. One a young Norse warrior from Jarl Sinric's clan near Paris, andthe other seems to be a Frank. They have already built us a new guesthouse as a gift from Sinric's brother Sigfred. I am no seer, but it is obvious they want something from us.
The warrior, a girl named Toka, has been asking after you. Speak with them and find out what they really want.
Randvi
(in memory "Strangers Bearing Gifts")
Mayda's House[]
Note: The Unsent Letter from Mayda and Letter from Bertham are moved to this house from the Fowl Farm upon building it.
(The paper is crumpled)
Mayda. I want you to know that
Mayda. You are my favorite person in
Mayda, you set my heart aflame and
Mayda! I have never known anyone as beautiful as you and
Nothing. I have nothing.
Hello, Bertie Bee, sweet as honey! You're so shy that I barely realized how much fun you can be. It is truly a joy to see this side of you, and I suppose it goes to show that you never really know a person until you've spent a little bit of time with them... and in their arms! See you again soon, I hope!
Congratulations on being the person to have made me blush the most in the world!
I don't want to wait to be alone with you anymore. I want to steal you away!
Meet me in the forest, near the tree stump that looks lik your least favorite animal!
Tomorrow, just after midday, I'll have some "chores" to attend to.
Mayda
Museum[]
To my sweet-scented little hyssop,
My darling Octavian, I was shocked to read your letter! Your new friends do not believe that I exist? Do they think that you make it your business to invent faraway lovers, when you have so many nobler and more compelling pursuits? Well, I say let them think whatever they like. I am as real as you are handsome, and I cannot wait to finally arrive in the settlement and show them all how genuine and corporeal I am. In the meantime, continue adding to the finest collection of all things Roman in the land, and keep being as wonderful as you always are. I will see you as soon as I am able to make my way over!
Julia
(the handwriting is very similar to Octavian's.)
Do you think I would not know it was you, OSBERT (O yes, I know your true name)? Sending your little minion after me to pilfer a statue? How typical of you.
Yet despite your disrespect, I will not seek restitution. For if you must stoop so low as to steal from me to enrich your own paltry collection, then I do believe that my superiority is already proven. You are pathetic!
Maximilian
P.S. You reek of piss, as does your brutish associate.
Oskoreia festival[]
Pulled from a thread of the Nornir’s strand,
this rune casts a shield across the land.
A rune of power
Protects this land
From one who sheds blood
For the good of the clan.
Loved horses more than people.
No one had a greater heart.
I alone saw the attack coming across the West River. If not for my warning they would all be dead.
A trusting soul
A fighter until the end.
A sharp tongue for one so young.
Always loyal to his family.
A well-meaning fellow.
Her shield could not be broken.
Saved his settlement.
She traded her life for her child.
Put her people before herself.
A big man with a light touch.
He gave his life to Raven Clan. May the gods honor his sacrifice.
Reda's tent[]
Request granted, for your ingenuity is admirable and deserves reward. The labor union is approved! May this usher in a new era of thrilling quests and contract killings, but now with fairer wages and more days of rest.
A warning, my beloved. I have heard numerous tales now of a secret codex circulating among the acolytes of our bureaus, both within and without the empire of Augustus. Called the Magas Codex, it names you directly as one of the founders of the Hidden Ones.
Apart from putting your life in danger, it flies in the face of what we have tried to achieve with our brotherhood. We are justice seekers who shun the light of praise for our good works, and who must live in the shadows of our triumphs. Should you see any pages of this codex, I advise you destroy them. Keep the dream of our Hidden Ones alive.
I am not so naïve to think this will be a simple task. Few men and women are suited to keeping such secrets for so long, and it may be that we will fail in the end. But we will have failed in the name of righteousness.
Take care, my love, my Iset, my Northern Star. Even in my waning years, I am ever your Osiris. Let our Horus live on beyond us. I think of you often, my jewel. At sunrise and twilight, at new moon and full, when the rain falls and the breath of Amun rides across my neck. I remember you kissing me just there, and I will take that soft feeling to my tomb.
The Hidden One
River Raid Dock[]
Left Norway seeking a challenge
Found nothing but monks and bandits
Weak
Where are the warriors?
At least the Celts put up a fight!
Seer's Hut[]
Eivor speaks of journeys into the lives of gods and gazing out through the eyes of Odin. Of all those I have helped to see the worlds beyond, the Wolf-Kissed's visions are the clearest, the most precise.
When I call out to the gods, they answer in riddles. A breeze through the meadow gras. The call of a crake. But no matter the infusion or the herb, they do not speak in the words and pictures that Eivor hears and sees.
In my weakest moments, I fear I do not have their favor. But I must be steadfast in my belief. They will show me what I need to see when I am ready. Always.
Juniper Berries
Gills of a perch
Talons of a white pidgeon
Red clay
My dear Eivor,
Should you awaken unexpectedly and wish to return to your vision, I have brewed this mixture for you.
When you drink it, you will be able to reenter the dream realm and continue with your search for a greater wisdom.
But tread carefully, Eivor. The pursuit of the truth can be a dangerous thing. Though for you, I believe, a necessity.
Valka
Shipyard[]
You smell like horse butt
You know that I adore you. But I must say, my sweet pea, that recently your boat-building plans have been very efficient and perfectly admirable but lacking in a certain ... flair? I would only genlty and lovingly suggest that next time you are drawing up new designs, you consider making the boats as beautiful as you are. Instead of just boring and functional.
I love you so much. I would very much like you to remember, my beloved, that boat-building is the work of a craftswoman and not an artist. Flair and beauty are all well and good for those soft-hearted builders who have the time for fanciful designs, but perhaps I would lovingly suggest that if you want to build a boat, you consider making it effective instead of finding new ways to pretty it up.
Sigrblot Festival[]
Emperor Charles, third of that name and dignity.
To his people he will bring naught but shame.
A ruler who would rather buy the enemy.
Kingdoms inherited and unearned.
The Fat will be trimmed.
The Frankish Army is stretched too thin. They can't cover the Northern Coast. Strike now before they organize and set sights across the water.
Raiding season is truly upon us! I've heard tell of new rivers in lands to the West and to the South.
Take what's earned and I'll see you in the Mead Hall, friend!
Gods guide my hands and keep them covered in flour and not blood.
Make the deer fatter and we could do with less wolves.
Watch over us as we war and guide us to your hall when we fall.
May this year's ale be plentiful and strong!
May Svend feel my love and know his art lives in me.
May our enemies be driven from these lands and may time forget them.
Gods watch over Holger and grant us another year.
I want to grow strong and brave like Eivor! And I want a sword. And a horse.
May the gods continue to provide Norvid and I with merriment!
You are my heart and I am thankful everyday that the gods brought us together.
Your cup will never run dry so long as I live.
You've been my teacher and my friend, and I will always follow you.
Your people show you an admiration that can only be earned through trust.
You are as cutting with your tongue as you are with your blade. My brightest pupil!
My words are clumsy but true, Eivor. You mean more to me than I could ever say.
You did not judge me when you saw my truth and for that I am grateful.
Thank you, Eivor! You're the best!
Your hospitality and generosity know no bounds.
Stable and Aviary[]
Is there a better companion
A more loyal friend?
Four legs and all heart
That beats 'til the end.
Whether plowing a field
Or crossing great lands,
Their manes flow so freely,
Their dignity stands.
The Ragnarssons were one thing, but largely I thought them the exception and not the rule, as far as the Norse go. Yet these people, Sigurd and Eivor and Dag and Randvi and the others, they strike me as trustworthy. Perhaps I am simply tired of traveling, or perhaps Yanli's enthusiasm has won me over, but I think I may remain here.
Tattoo Shop[]
You've enchanted me. Not a night goes by that I don't think of waking up next to you, teasing your sleepy mind out of its reveries.
The tattoo you gave me has healed well, but the mark you've left on my heart will not close without you.
I miss you and I cannot wait to see you again.
I received your message. You're a fool, but I feel you've left a mark on my heart, as well. I've applied a salve nightly to no avail. I still miss your humor, your hands, your eyes. I look forward to using your back as a canvas in the future, and to spending a little more time on mine.
A mushroom with fire circling out of it.
A dragon, breathing fire, with the wings of a bat and arms of a man.
Vines, with sharp thorns, twisting around an ankle or wrist?
Tree made out of feathers?
Note also: The dragon's arms are very muscular.
Kind Svend,
I will forever be thankful for your guidance and your care, and hear your voice in my ears as I mark the skin of those you so loved. Your spirit lives in our work forever. See you in the next realm.
Trading Post[]
Stone slab: To the woman who owns the farm just southeast of Lincolnscire's southern bridge
Jar of rosewater mead: To the hermit hut at the feet of the mountain, north of Sabrina's spring in Glowecestrescire.
Crate of bowls: To the jewel maker in Ledecestre, between the church and the old Roman bathhouse.
Anvil: To the blacksmith in Lunden. His workshop is near th church, close to the west gate.
We have never been so pleased to receive a letter from you! What wonderful news! Our little flower has bloomed across the sea, and it feels as though it has been forever since you lived somewhere long enough for us to send you parcels.
I hope you will enjoy the spices and the oil. It broke our hearts to hear the things they have been feeding you! Perhaps if you offer them a bit of spice, their tongues will learn to pronounce your name properly, and you will not have to make it so easy for them!
Repton[]
Aethelbald, 716-757
Beornraed, 757
Wiglaf, 827-829, 830-839
Dear Scribes, Nobles, Rulers and the Holy Diocese of Ledecestrescire,
I greet you with friendship and the love of God. My name is Brissy the Elder. I have studied under the disciples of Wilfrid, Alcuin and I have also followed the many skalds of the much-maligned Lords of Daneland and the Norge. I was captured by one Rig "The Slippery Wisdom" during a raid at Whitby Abbey. I since lived with the heathen at Goldborough and converted many while following their great journeys and turning towards God.
Based on the stories I have heard around the hearth and the many battles and adventures I have witnessed, I compiled this saga in the spirit of our great poets Cædmon and Cynewulf, and have so dutifully taken note of the story of Rig. His Rigsogur is as great as that of Beowulf's or Ragnar Lothbrok. It must be written and rewritten and told throughout the scrolls of our land and beyond the shores, for his name is immortal.
What I saw of his might, his merriment, and his godly touch is unlike any other story before or after. He was plagued by a demon's voice, and I worry the Devil hath taken him, and not the angels.
However be his tale one of woe and warning, or of brightness and valor, it merits retelling. I have included with my scop's seal and the story Rig. Please I beg of you, share it and teach it amidst the mead halls and beneath the belfries of our good Lord. This manuscript is sacred.
My warmest light,
Brissy the Elder
Ubba Ragnarsson has banished me from the camp. This comes on the heels of another battle in which I warred far more with my tongue than I did with my axe. It is time to let it lay, he said.
He is right. I no longer wish to fight. To raid. To kill. These things have not enlivened my body or my hugr for many years now. It may be I only needed to hear it from another. For that, I thank the son of Ragnar for bringing to light what I failed to see.
What lies before me now, I do not know. This, I will sit and ponder.
My warring days are behind me. I've gone from sitting beside a big oak tree with a view of the docks to sitting here on this lonely isle with a view of my past. Where does one go from here?
Over the frozen tundra
where we crept and crawled,
where we dined on meat in the largest of halls.
To the windswept fields of these English lands,
Both tattered and rich, the soil and saind.
Through trenches and gallows,
Feet calloused and sore,
To this lonely isle where I raid no more.
Where I ready my ship to sail off full mast,
In hopes I find peace for this hugr out cast.
Tamworth Fortress[]
Three hours. That is how long it took the sisters to sew up my shoulder. Not sure there was much of a point. The sutures will tear the moment I wield my sword again. A festering, open wound. Like this whole God-forsaken kingdom...
Lord,
I hope this letter finds you well.
You have my gratitude and my promise that these men will not be calleed upon unless absolutely necessary. We continue to fend off the Danish incursion and will do so without respite.
Aethelswith sends you her regards. She is well, though like my war thegn, I wonder if she too has begun to doubt our ability to win this war. No matter. It is I who lead it, and I will defend my state to the bitter end.
Faith in God,
The Lord King of Mercia
Today I learned the one they call Halfdan has left Mercia and put his brothers in charge. Moved on, as if dethroning me was all but a sure thing. He could not be more wrong.
The heathens can keep Repton. Dig up Mercia's kings and scatter their bones for all I care. I will not be shaken by these feeble attempts to damage my reputation.
They think they can turn my people against me. No. Mercians everywhere will fight for their king, whether they want to or not.
Venonis[]
I am calling a cease to my search. There is no treasure here. I must have searched every inch of this grotto top to bottom. Someone removed it ages ago, I'm certain of it. Maybe I will return and have a look with a sober eye next time, but I doubt it will make much difference.
Eivor of the Raven Clan -
Ledecestre
Wayfarer's Camp[]
As the law states, outlaws will be taken prisoner, see their camps dismantled and their goods confiscated.
Lincolnscire[]
Tobias,
Seek out the tallest one where your life began so long ago. What you are owed in coin will there be safe. What you are owed in love can never be repaid. Forgive me.
Anecastre[]
The robes you wear are but a costume. A lure to win the people's trust. Think nothing of your soul or salvation. You have the truth, the shadows have dripped away, and now you see the light of the world. Take comfort in that.
And kill all who impede you.
The Instrument
H.
Your methods are brash and your violence is brazen! In seizing control of this shire by force, you will turn the people against the one institution that gives them hope.
Desist, and make no more noise in Lincolnscire! Draw no more attention to yourself, and await my further orders. To disobey means death.
Lord King,
You will forgive my bluntness, but I demand your aid. Lincolnscire is facing a great threat, and it is one that you helped permeate. It is your duty now to see to its end. The Dane Eivor must be stopped.
You forged a path forward for the heathens. This is your failure. But you can make it right. God will forgive you, but you must act now.
Bishop Herefrith
Beardney Camp[]
My men are growing weary. They wonder if there is much of a point being here anymore. Can't say I see a fault in their thinking. But here we all reamain, bound to duty.
But the wheels are not turning. Lincoln is a shell of its former self. No one comes here. There are no taxes to collect. The naval chain is broken and has remained that ways since God knows when. The only thing breathing life into this shire is the bandit groups who leech from it.
How curious.
Bolingbroe Castle[]
To My Young Swan
We are blessed to be here with the Wolds of Lincolnscire. It is here in the lush lands of Hatfield Chase where we exchange with the kings of smaller kingdoms, still with each their own glowing throne. As Aldfrith noted, the hunt here is plentiful. Wolves, foxes, and even the occasional bear.
Remember we are Yellow Bellies, from the Wapentake and teh ancient hollows, our sheep graze the mustard fields and our poppy heads make us happy, and when you hunt, remember that you are part of the long line of Anglian Kings of Lindsey.
Good Folk and Yellow Bellies from Woden to God
Your father Hundbeorht Rex of the Lindsey-Folk
Left him here, they did. Weak and frail. Carried him by his arms. Feet dragging behind. Dropped him on the floor with a thud. No way to treat an ealdorman. Not right. Not right. But no better place for him, no. Lord Hundbeorht has found his way into my company. My tenderness I will share. It is what he deserves.
The Genealogy of the Anglian Kings of the Lindsey
Our Kings who under God and Woden Ruled shall be remembered. Their line is endless as the great sky as they rule the land of the Lindissi, for the Britons and the Anglians alike, we kneel to them:
Woden
Critta
Cueldgils
Caedbaed
Bubba
Beda
Biscop
Eanfruth
Eatta
Aldfrith
Hungarth
Hundbeorht
Hunwald
(final name is scratched out with a monk's plume)
Ealdorman's Overlook[]
Hunwald and Swanburrow
Grimsby[]
My lady-love,
I have gone through much trouble to ensure this letter finds you, but I needed you to know that I am all right. That I did not leave you on the wings of some change of heart.
The truth is that I have been exiled for reasons I do not understand. Every inquiry I have made has fallen on deaf ears. They simply will not let me back into the city. Now I fear my father is in grave danger. Without me there, something could happen to him.
I must find a way back. There is a Dane camp that has newly settled. I will be riding out in the morning to speak with their leader. My hope is that we may strike a deal. For now, I ask that you please stay out of sight. When the time is right, I will find you.
We will lay together on the apple carts once again, feeding each other on the sun-kissed fields of Lincoln just long enough so that my pasty skin does not redden.
Have faith in me,
Hunwald
Lincoln[]
I suspected they would son come and they did. Soldiers from the camp to the southwest. Took the rarest and most precious materials and told me quite simply that there is a price to my safety.
It took me thirty-three years to build my reputation, only for it to lead to my undoing, Few blacksmiths are as meticulous as I, and even fewer use the materials I use.
Nothing to be done about it now. They are gone, and I must begin anew.
This letter confirms the death of Ealdorman Hundbeorht, who passed with dignity and grace and whose soul now rests in the loving hands of our heavenly Father.
The council requests your presence at the forthcoming shiremoot as we elect a new Ealdorman of Lincoln. Bishop Herefrith, Thegn Aelfgar, and Hunwald son of Hundbeorht have been selected as candidates.
Punctuality must be observed. Those who arrive late will not be allowed to cast their vote.
Daughter,
I have found no work in Lincoln as of yet, and I fear there is no one who will take me on. But I also know I cannot return home without a plan to get us through the season.
I have done something against my better judgment, something that requires me to keep out of sight for a little while. If anything should happen to me, know that I am sorry. What I did, I did for you.
Roaring Meg's Spring[]
Orvyn,
We have received an offer from an unnamed Saxon requesting safe passage through the sewers to Bolingbroke. The amount is considerable, which leads me to believe they have something of great value they cannot afford to be seen with.
Insist on seeing what it is before accepting their offer. If it merits it, double the amount. If they refuse, kill them.
Lucian
Saint Guthlac's Point[]
Thegn Berthstan,
I have sent my men to Bolingbroke as you asked, but know that it was not without reservation. We are now of a significantly smaller number here. We need more men to guard these waters.
May I suggest displacing some able-bodied men from the smaller hamlets? We could use the help, and the change of scenery would do them good, I'm sure.
Olric
Spalding Bandit Lair[]
Lord,
I proudly write to inform you of our success. We have taken over the village. Cut down and strung up any and all who stood in our way. This is Spaldinga territory now. The men have already begun setting up the river to move the wares.
We await to hear from you.
Cynwin
Lunden[]
Bodilsburg Garrison[]
Bodilsburg was built by Bodil Bodilsson, one of the three Great Jarls of Lunden. He was a peacekeeper, and for his spinnings and peacekeeping, survived the other jarls of his time. From him came three sons: Bjorn, Erke, and Thor. Sadly he and two of his sons perished of a great sickness.
Londinium bureau[]
CAVETE!
All currently serving Hidden Ones are hereby ordered to vacate these premises. Should you wish to continue our great work, make your way to our Bureau in Cologne. You will be welcomed.
MAGISTER VITVS
OPERARE IN TENEBRIS VT LVMINI SERVIAS
I write this final entry at night in the fading glow of a single oil lamp. It appears our work in Britannia has been cut short by forces far outside our control. But that is not quite true.
In some ways, we are to blame. For years we have scratched at the pillars of empire, toppling one or two when the foundation seemed too strong, and the weight of one Caesar's ambitions seemed too pressing.
But there is a limit to how many supports a building may lose before it topples to the ground. We might have been more careful. We might have been more selective, more cautious in our approach to liberty. But we have helped free Britannia of all structure, and now the roof has collapsed.
A dark age is coming. The burden now falls upon a future generation to bring back the light. How soon that will be, I cannot say. And I dare not hope.
M.V.
GENVS PACTI
Execution
Reliable sources tell us Imperator Hadrian sails for Britannia this month – He intends to make war upon the northern native people – Intercept the Imperator in Londinium – We believe he will stay five nights at the villa southeast of the colosseum – enter villa as a slave and dispatch him via poison or under nights obscuring darkness – Amorous diversions are not advised – The Imperator is known to be a cautious man.
CONTRAHIT
Acolytus Caius
STATVS
Failure – Acolytus discovered and killed
Temple of Mithras[]
Let our wretched origins be known…
We are the instruments of the ancient gods. We are the refuse of an ancient world. Yet we are the hope for an era reborn.
Let our great task be stated…
We are the shepherds of our creators' will. We are the curators of our creators' tools. We are the new masters of the world they made.
Let our loyalties be clear…
The Father of Understanding guides us. The Mother of Wisdom inspires us. The Sacred Voice fills our hearts with boldness.
Let it be known…
We men and women of the Order of the Ancients are the natural arbiters of the world. Let all those who oppose us perish in pain. We are everywhere, and we are eternal.
In the name of Mithras, the Last Warrior, go forth and dominate. Reclaim the world that is ours by will.
Oxenefordscire[]
Bryn,
I have placed the jars as your requested, but I find I have lost my nerve. You may be right that riches lie within, but is it worth being burnt to ash?
I say no. I leave them here for you to use. May you prove a braver man than I.
Blissful blessing bestowed on me!
To lie with my lass in a leafy ela.
The pastor of pastures joins our hands,
Lady and lord of this patch of land.
Stay away from the ruins! We killed those soldiers far and square, and damned if we couldn’t open the chest. Romi went into the cave to look around but never came back.
Buckingham[]
We are unprepared for the sudden loss of our dear ealdorman. Our thegns are disorganized and bicker in petty disputes. I fear someone will take control without consent of the shire.
I drove your cart into the river! If that will not teach you to keep a civil tongue in your mouth, then there is no hope for you!
Lady Eadwyn,
We have successfully captured the rebel thegns We caught them as they were fleeing to Oxeneforda.
We will proceed with their trial and execution as you ordered.
For Oxenefordscire!
Lady Eadwyn,
You have my blessing in your efforts to secure control of Oxenefordscire.
Should you need men at arms, do not hesitate to call on Wessex.
-Aelfred
Geadric. The thegns are with. Holt, Sherwin, Brant, even Octe. We will be at your side.
-Brant
Our dear ealdorman has been laid to rest. Shriven, anointed and shrouded in a simple cloth, his earthly remains have been buried in sanctified ground, his noble head positioned toward the setting sun.
Thaerelea Ruins[]
River Dee[]
Logging Camp[]
Ser Durward,
I write again the same entreaty as you may recall from my last seven letters: once more my farm has been burnt nearly to the ground, my livestock loosed into the wilds and my stores utterly cleared out. For many reasons, I find this unacceptable. How am I to feed my family, let alone pay you for the land I am meant to enjoy? You must act.
I know of a Champion who is loyal only to gold. Perhaps you could direct some funds toward him, so that he protects us? I intend no real offense, but I have found your guardianship lacking.
Rhuabon Village[]
It is strange: these river rapids are like none I've ever sailed. You know me to be a seasoned captain, yet I find myself challenged by their movements. There are tales that say the fae move in these waters, and bend them to their unknowable will, but surely such a thing is only myth. Surely.
River Severn[]
Severn Outpost[]
The Jomsvikingr have gained access to the River Exe and they're taking everything they can from us! Nothing seems too small or too sentimental to avoid their maruading, and I have lost more than I care to tell you. I beg that you send word, from Walton of Dumonia, to everyone living along the Severn or the Dee: the raiders are coming, and you may be next! Guard yourselves!
Small Camp (northeast of Fishing Docks)[]
Do you remember, Ogden? When I said that we had been tasked with protecting something of tremendous importance? Well! You will be thrilled to learn that this ""something"" is the armour of Saint George himself! His greaves, more specifically. Can you believe it? One day, some time ago, Saint George slew a DRAGON in these greaves!
And we have them here!
I must say, they are in fantastic condition considering their age (and the fire-breathing they must have endured), but I suppose that is further proof of his sainthood, as the armor seems to find anyone who wears them.
(Not that I have tried them on.)
(I did try them on, though.)
Truly they are a blessed item.
Sciropescire[]
We can no longer follow Eulric. He lost his taste for action ever since the Danes lopped off a couple of his fingers.
Come with me. We'll join the others on the river to the west. They fear no one.
Cassivellaunus Tomb[]
This cave is the making of a madman!
I have barely survived several traps.
But my strength wanes...
A leader, a fighter, a stalwart man.
We fought for Cassivellaunus like we would fight for our own fathers.
The one called Caesar claimed victory.
But look about you. No Romans we.
Quatford[]
Many Danes have come to Quatford. They are an attractive people. I have become friendly with one of them named Stengr. He has deep blue eyes and helps me carry wood in the evenings.
And, when I say "friendly" ... well...
I came to Quatford hoping to ply my trade, but cobblers are here in abundance as nearly every town in Sciropescire is caught up in the war. It's bitter to have no trade. I pray eventually things get back to how they were.
Bishop Deorlaf,
We believe you speak for Sciropescire on matters of war. King Rhodri will arrive with his retinue on your proposed date to discuss peace between us. See to it that the king's brother Gwriad ap Merfyn is present, as his fate is of particular interest to our king.
Lady Angharad
Snotinghamscire[]
Elite of elites, the great warriors of Clan Dunbar, you are tasked to scout for weaknesses of the wretched Danes that occupy Northumbria. Do not rest until you find the chink in their armor.
My inheritance will go to my second son, not my first born. My first born is a lout and a gambler, and he will only squander the family I have worked so hard to achieve.
Berserker's House[]
At first, I felt nothing but remorse. My anger had gotten the better of me this time. My family has paid the ultimate price. But then Odin came to me as a majestic raven, black wings spread wide, leading me to a mushroom faerie circle by an oak tree. By his command, I consumed them and I no longer feel remorse, only a desire to loose more blood, to sate this lust that boils within.
Deoraby Spar Cavern[]
To find the blade-keener
Be surefooted as a moutain goat
First-blood means final breath
To those who test your mettle
The Picts and the Danes fight fiercely in these lands and we are caught between them. Our efforts cannot cease. We must continue to honor our Roman ancestors and protect the treasurs that rest here in their name. Remember, their blood runs through these lands.
If a brave man sharpened his sword on the whetstone, then the sword would kill any man from whom it drew blood. If a cowardly man used the whetstone, his sword would fail him and refuse to draw blood at all.
Minninglow[]
If you are reading this, you need to leave. This place, this forsaken tomb will drive you mad. I write this as the blood of my brothers drip from my fingers. Something, someone, forced my hand. I cannot explain this, but treasure can be found elsewhere. Turn back while you can.
Odin Mine Hideout[]
Your aid in kidnapping Hemthorpe residents has provided valuable knowledge to take to the battles and sieges to come. Hemming Jarl suspects nothing yet, but we need to be careful. See what else you can find out so that we may both profit from the fall of these offshore invaders.
Snotingham[]
Arvid, Botulf Giantblade is in need of fish soup as a last meal for his dying cat. Her favorite was always perch, but they have become rare in these parts. In winters past, the fish could be found north of Wenloch Abbey, in a small pond at the edge of a crop field. I would start there. Go quickly.
When he first arrived, his blue eyes flustered me. But what frustrates me the most, is the more I am around him, the more I find it difficult to quieten my heart. We feared for our lives when they came, but truth be told, Snotingham has become a better place to live under Hemming Jarl's rule.
Stoneburgh[]
There are voices coming from the well. I thought someone might have fallen in, but when I called down into the dark, nothing whispered back. Only when I turned my back, did the voices come again. Do not go near the well, my son. We will have to travel further for water now.
Thynghowe[]
Barley and hops for the brew that bolsters our warriors. And for Hemming Jarl, plums. He always liked his a little sweeter.
Ulkerthorpe Fort[]
The Picts are ruthless and have no qualms in resorting to sneak attacks and ambushes. Our reinforcements never arrived, only a scout returned, reporting that the Picts had taken them out on the roads as they traveled. We may have better warriors, but the Picts know these lands better than we do, and they will press that advantage to its fullest.
Wenloch Abbey[]
Hemming jarl did not spend his years here working with the Saxons to have them do this. Yet these clergymen keep me against my will in the name of their God to "purge us heathens" from their lands. I am no warrior, just a farmer. But perhaps this is why those cowards forced me into captivity because they would not stand a chance against our battle-worn kin.
Suthsexe[]
Anderitum Hideout[]
We have found our sacred home in the ancient ruins where our forefathers crushed the Atrebates.
Crawleah will always be ours. The fools living there will be ravaged. Let this scroll be a warning to any who feel they can trade without our seal, breathe without our tax, and cry without our swords having made the sadness. South Saxony shall be ruled by us.
Defend Antreminium against usurpers and the incursions of lesser tribes. Once we have found the sacred Hoard of Wenkling, we will buy Wincestre and burn it to the ground.
Long live the Aellengi
Foris Turre[]
Prison and Pyewackets: A Game
On the fourth passing of the waxing moon engaged four good ones seeking adventure assembled. They ravaged the country of Midgard with all of their might and played, with honor, Prison and Pyewackets, the game of South Saxons.
Gyda the Elf-Queen, Scourge of Asgard (archer)
Ulf Ulffsson the Elf-hat, Barker of Words (warlock)
Magnus the Brown, Bear Tamer (bearserker)
and the victor, Helga of Helheim, Hug-Giver (poet)
At the Tavern of Broken Dreams, they set out, and each tried to conquer through trickery, honor, and the faded glory found in the bones of dungeons and the mouths of dragons.
Charater: Gyda the Elf-Queen, Scourge of Asgard (archer)
Languages: Elf, Æsir, and Jotnar
Hair: Long blonde
Strength: Sinewy
Sharpness: +12
Bludgeoning: -3
Spellcasting: -1
Charisma: +5
Armor: Unnecessary (her skin is made of Leather Troll-skins)
Proficiency Bonus: Six blueberries
Charater: Ulf Ulffsson the Elf-hat, Barker of Words (warlock)
Nationality: Aelfheim, part dragon, troll-skinned
History: Born of non-blood, Ulf possesses the ability to speak with cats and tame dogs in order to make magic from their meows and barks.
Weapons: A glory-haven axe wielded like a feather
Weaknesses: Has no genitals, dies from any hit with a king’s sword
Strengths: Has no genitals, can kill stones
Charater: Magnus the Brown, Bear Tamer (bearserker)
Half Frisian, from Daneland. Known as a “Red-Haired Beared Serker”
Potions mixed always with ale for added Buff of 12% hit points on elderly warriors
Frenzy: +22
Wisdom: -90
Hit Points: Infinite
Damage taken: Extreme -900
Languages: Rare, Cuddle Tongue, Frisian, and Geatish
(etched across all of the words is “I WIN”)
Charater: Helga of Helheim, Hug-Giver (druid)
Languages: Old Celtic, Dwarf, and Old English
Hair: Scraggly thick and robust
Strength: In words
Son of a half-dwarf, with the power to take damage during rainstorms but not when the sun is out.
Sharpness: +22
Bludgeoning: -11
Spellcasting: +22
Charisma: -9
Special Crozier that kills knuckers with one hit and also the power to disappear in the fens.
Monk's Lair[]
Lord,
Today I am sending more Danes for you to judge.
Let their deaths cleanse their sins.
May your will guide my hand so I keep this holy work to avenge my brothers.
Praise Be To the Deliverer from Evil.
Dear Erke Reeve of Lunden
I have created a vibrant fish stand here near Chertsey Abbey. The local monks have taken a liking to the fish I have brought from Geatland. Please, if you may help maintain a secure tithe along the Thames, a fine trade route will help both regions blossom.
Yours,
Grendon of the Silver Waters
Wincestre[]
I, the last of Boudicca's line and true heir to the throne of England, command you to steal the coin stamp of the false king.
Soon my face will be upon every silver piece across the land. And then we will see who has the noblest nose.
Let it be known that I wrote the Psalms that King Aelfred claims. For all his so-called learning and peity, he could not find the poetry to speak to his God. So he gave me some pretty coin. My tongue is most like a writer's feather that writes with speed. And I tell all who will listen, I am his words.
The Disputation of Tutelage
People of Wincestre. Aelfred would force his reformation upon us. Take your children from the bosom of their family to idle away hours in the company of so-called men of God. For what? So they may read the scriptures? Write their names in pig shit? Education for all? A hollow cry when you starve on the streets or die at the hands of Dane raiders. True enlightenment will not come from the sallow king. It will come from the Order.
The Quill
Bishop's Residence[]
This steel shroud. Battered and broken. Worthless. But more valuable to me than a thousand silver coins. I tore it from the carcass of a long-dead king. He who held back the fire that spread from sea to sea. He beat back the invasion, shot the crows from the sky. Can I do the same?
It hums to me, but I cannot hear the melody.
I have been praying for days, but my knees are tired. And I worry God is not listening. The Bishop is a fool as well and tells me my prayers aren't fervent enough. I tried getting drunk and praying but ended up vomiting on the chalice.
I worry my sins far outweigh my piety.
Piety... I miss pie. I love pie.
Please send silver.
Gleeman Tuicca
(with a seal from the Bishop's Residence)
Market Warehouse[]
I tire of your incompetence. If any of the merchants are reluctant to hand over their taxes, tell them you come from the Gallows, and that is where they will find themselves if they do not pay their dues. Now do your job.
The Nuns Minster[]
Reeve Goodwin came to me to aid our king. Hemorrhoids. The king suffers greatly from ficus and receives this painful ailment as a divine reward, sent at his request to assist him in resisting carnal desire. I prescribed balm, and have received good news that the itching has eased.
I am so lucky in love, blessed by the baby Jesus to have seen you from afar
Did you see me? I was wearing my best shoes
I hope one day you will be beside me
Together in love
Starlight to my moon
Bee to my honey
I have been struck by the horse and cart of love
Might I die if you do not look at me?
Yes
The Old Minster[]
The beginning of the Lord's life is with the water, the middle is through the light, and the last ends in the ground.
Magister Bata said that I am a very wicked boy for breaking an egg on Wigbert's head. To learn humility and piety, I must write an account of the miracles of Saint Swithun. Saint Swithun was a big man with a full red beard and arms as big as tree trunks. He could shoot fire out of his eyes, and once he made eggs come back to life because a workman bumped into an old woman on the bridge and they fell and broken.
O, and he makes it rain. Like all the time and is still doing miracles even though he is dead. Amen.
And so, did Cenwalh of Wessex seek to atone for his terrible sin by building this great Minster. Though his father was pious and godly, he turned his cheek from the mysteries of our Lord and soon after lost his earthly kingdom. As for the Lord's House, he constructed it from Combe Down Oolite.
Such an edifying work was it that the Bishop moved his seat here, better to hear the word of God.
King Aelfred,
Your spies in Mercia report on a curious development. A faction of Norse recently joined the brothers Ivarr and Ubba in a decisive assault on Tamworth, deposing King Burgred and installing a foolish king's thegn called Ceolwulf in his stead.
In following these Norse back to their settlement, your men discovered the presence of a Hidden One among the pagans who calls himself Hytham. He seems in rather good graces with the two chieftains of this clan, Sigurd Styrbjornsson and Eivor Varinsdottir.
As yet his motives remain unclear, but it may be we can put him to uses of our own. Our "Poor Fellow-Soldier of Christ" has already sent word of the Order's activities to the luminaries of England's major cities. It may be a well-timed letter to Hytham and his companions will speed along our plans considerably.
Your faithful servant,
Reeve Goodwin
I awoke this morning thinking on Alcuin's final letter to Charlemagne. Written in fear that the Order had corrupted all but his master. Then, dead a week later. Did Charlemagne know? Had the Order corrupted him as well? Did he order the holy man's death? Or did the great emperor not see this letter at all? Long ago, I asked my father how this extraordinary document came into his possession. He had no answer for me. I feared the worst then, as I do now.
Outwardly, Charlemagne was a pious defender of Christ's word. It seems impossible to believe he was under the sway of this corrupted cult. But the Order is expert at hiding its motives. It has stooped to using the Christ's words and the holy book as a front for its blasphemous goals before, and the appearance of piety is all too easy to manufacture. Hoist a bible aloft on the steps of a church and claim divine inspiration. I must be vigilant against such villains.
The Order of Ancients argues for a hierarchy that flies in the face of God's purpose. They view men and women as debased and corrupt, borne of evil intent. Yet they worship men they believe were their makers. Akin to a hammer loving the nail, they cannot see outside their own hermetic system.
They are not wrong to believe that there must be order in the world for peace to flourish. But they are wrong about the source of this order. Man was made in the image of God. God is the source of the universe's order. Therefore man need appeal only to God for guidance.
In a strange irony, I am grateful for the Danes and their invasion of Northumbria. My title should have gone to Aella. Being dead, it fell to my brother and then to me. God's unlikely gift. I will use it to destroy what I loathe so deeply about this sickening Order, and start afresh. Goodwin is with me, as are men on the continent. I will soon find others.
The Order often blesses their pagan creators. What they call the Father of Understanding, the Mother of Wisdom, the Sacred Voice. These are vile blasphemies. There is only one Father of Understanding. He is the Lord above; he is order incarnate.
Therefore, may the Father of Understanding be this and naught else--the invisible hand that plucks harmony from the strings of the universe. Nothing more. Let all remaining pagan blasphemies wither into dust. Henceforth I aim to improve our lot by harmonizing the average man with the order of the universe. To walk him down a quiet road, to lead him safe and sober thoughts, to quiet his mind and cool his impassioned heart. Be he God-fearing or God-less, this new Order will encompass all and seek to improve man by aligning his needs with the ebb and flow of nature itself. This is my hope. This is my vow.
Amen
Holy David, an urgent word from your flaccus,
When last we spoke, I warned you of a rot that I feared was eating at the healthy, still-young flesh of our holy Church. Today I am more convinced than ever that something drastic must be done.
I have lately confirmed that there exists a group of men and women within our Church who belong to a parasitic order of heathens, men and women who wish for nothing less than the perversion of our God's word. As lice upon a loyal hound, they scurry about unseen, using our resources fur purposes in opposition to our Savior's plan.
In the past year, I have gleaned what I could about the beliefs of these vile usurpers, who call themselves The Order of the Ancients. Here are but a few of their disturbing ideas:
They believe that mankind was created not by the Lord God, but by lesser and imperfect gods, variously called Isu, Archons or Nephilim in their various unholy texts. In this way, they follow the unholy heresies of the gnostic sects that flourished in the years before the Nicene Creed.
They refuse the message of the Christ and his redemptive act of sacrifice. They disbelieve in sin and salvation, and seek only knowledge and power, which they believe will free their spirit in the final days.
They believe mankind is a lesser form of life, imperfect in the shadow of these lesser gods, and that it is mankind's sole duty to aspire to the example of these lesser gods.
Their obsession with these ancient ones has led them to make a fetish of diabolical artifacts, which they believe will give them power and righteous cause over their fellow men. These devil's tools I have not seen for myself, but I have observed their effect on a few.
Most blasphemous of their beliefs is perhaps this: they believe many of these lesser gods still walk the earth or may return one day in resurrected forms. Some they believe are continually reborn. These they call sages. Others seem to appear once only and never again. Whether they believe the Lord Jesus Christ to be such a one, I have yet to determine, but their literature is full of references to such beings.
All this I know to be true. In light of this gathering darkness, I urge swift and violent action, my lord, for the reach of this order is vast and their power insidious. Be thou a soldier for our Christ. Only a sustained campaign of eradication will end their advance.
Heed my words with care and wisdom, Noble Charlemagne, and may the Lord God guard thee, exalt thee, and make thee enter the glory of his blessed and everlasting vision.
Your faithful servant,
Alcuin of Eoforwic
10 May, 804 Anno Domini.
Venta Belgarum bureau[]
CAVETE!
Caesar Magnus Maximus has ordered the full withdrawal of imperial troops from the west of Britannia. Now the people of this region grow wary of our presence, and wish us gone. Our task here has always been to strike a balance between lawful obedience and revolutionary action in pursuit of human liberty, but we have often been misunderstood, and this has led to resentment and accusations of fanaticism. Enough is enough.
I have made the difficult decision to abandon our bureau at Venta Belgarum. All Hidden Ones are hereby ordered to return to our bureaus in Londinium and Camulodunum for further instruction.
MAGISTER MARCELLVS
OPERARE IN TENEBRIS VT LVMINI SERVIAS
GENVS PACTI
Contact and Deliver
Belgae and Roman tensions run high – Mutilations and murders of Christian populace at the hands of local Belgae warriors continue to mount – An acolyte is needed to deliver a personal message to Imperator Constantinus pleading for the protection of Christian worshippers in the region – The Imperator's schedule and route through Britannia is not yet known – Acolyte must trace and follow Imperator's entourage – Deliver message at the most opportune moment.
CONTRAHIT
Acolytus Beatha
STATVS
Success – Message delivered
Wincestre Seminary[]
The last Heathen oppressor left Britain in the year of our Lord 407. Lawlessness ruled. Tribes fought each other for land and wealth and our good town was abandoned, eventually falling to rubble and ruin.
In the seventieth year of our Lord's incarnation, the Roman Invaders build a settlement on the very site you are standing now. They called this new town, Venta Belgarum after a local tribe of barbarians named the Belgares. They made this place a center of industry, learning, and culture.
They were Godless heathens then, but the Light of our Lord transformed them in time.
Cedric and Cynric killed a British king named Natanleod, and five thousand men along with them. After this was the land named Netley, from his, as far as Charford. Then did they undertake the goernment of the West Saxons, and from that day in 519 AD have the children of the West Saxon kings reigned.
We Saxons returned two hundred years later, farmed the fertile land outside the crumbling walls. We named the place Venta Caester. In time this was corrupted to Wincestre [sic]
Your word is a lamp to my feet and a light to my path. I have sworn and confirmed that I will keep Your righteous judgments...
My God, whom I praise, do not remain silent, for people who are wicked and deceitful have opened their mouths against me; they have spoken against me with lying tongues.
Witan Hall[]
I oft wondered why good and wise men would not have translated the great ecclesiastical works from Latin. Because they did not think that men ever would become so careless and learning so decayed as it is now in Wessex.
I have translated the book that is called in Latin "Pastoralis," and in English "Shepherd-book," in the hope, I will leave literacy as my legacy. Send these texts to bishops and priests of Wessex. Instruct them to start copying and translating the holy books and manuscripts. I ordered the making of several pendants. Collec them and send them with the manuscripts as a token of goodwill.
King Aelfred
The Danes threaten to overwhelm us on all fronts. These damned pagans will only be quieted if covered in silver. But if that is what we must do to achieve peace, to stop our churches being burned to the ground, our people slaughtered, I will pay their Danegeld gladly.
King Aelfred
Francia[]
Amienois[]
Day One: How exciting! Count Odo has build this excellent treehouse so we can spy on the Northmen.
Day Three: There are some drawbacks to eating, sleeping, and micturating while living entirely in a tree.
Day Eight: So. Many. Splinters.
Day Fifteen: My mighty roots reach into the ground, the acorns have transformed me into a hamadryad, a plucky nature spirit! I shall never leave my tree!
I can hardly sleep. There is so much screaming outside! I want to know what's happening. I thought I heard Aunt Marbe and Amred. They sounded so terrible, and I wanted to help them but Mother made me keep quiet. She looked so scared and angry that I decided to listen. Mother said there are bad people outside and that I had to be good. Our doors are all barred and we are in the cellar, hiding. It stinks, and I can hear everything outside. How am I to ever fall asleep?
----
Morning comes and I do not have much time to write this. Mama said that we would be safe in Paris, behind the city walls but I don't want to go! I don't want to leave my home! Why must we die if we stay? I don't understand this at all.
We are now packing whatever little belongings we have, and I must say goodbye. Mama is making me wear a scarf around my head. She says it will protect my eyes from seeing bad things outside, but I will remove it the moment I step out of the door. I want to see my village one last time and burn it in my memory before we go.
Master,
In times past you appeared from your refuge to offer us words of comfort and wisdom. We wait beneath boiling sun, in wind and rain, through long nights, and count it as but loss for the chance to hear you speak.
But now it has been many months since you last appeared. We no longer hear your whispered prayers, or the cries as you rebuke demons in the darkness. A strange, unclean scent rises when the air is still. We fear for you, our dear master.
We will not forsake our vigil, but we humbly beseech you to raise momentarily from your endless watch of prayer and your many fastings. Let us know you are yet well, that we might calm our anxious hearts.
Your most steadfast and sober students.
Amiens[]
Amphitheater[]
Friend Pantomime,
While your concerns are understandable, consider—our Charles is an enlightened king.
He understands the special role jesters and actors play in tweaking the noses of monarchy.
Our play shall be richly rewarded—you shall see!
– Troubadour
Slaughtered Calf Tavern[]
Captain,
I trust you and your charge are still safe.
In the absence of communication from you, I hope to send a trusted ally and Northern warrior named Eivor to your location. Pass those you have been guarding into this Northerner's protection. They will be safter there than they ever have been, I assure you.
You and your men are relieved of your current duty, and may see to your families. I will send word when I have need of you.
- Count Odo
Villa of Amiens[]
Who can I trust? None of the bishops, that is certain. Engelwin was happily removed by that meddling Northerner, but I already knew he was traitorous. Is Gozlin any better now I've lost Odo's support. Damn Odo's self-righteous honor. I am the king!
The Bellatores cannot be underestimated. It was they who killed His Holiness Pope Adrian on the way to Worms, I'm sure of it. He was in perfect health. Had he made it to the Diet we would have removed their supplicant bishops and named Bernard heir. Now we are again fighting claims from every second cousin and grey-bearded uncle.
if the Bellatores can murder a Pope, Bernard is not safe from them. He must be protected until the situation has calmd, and I can no longer trust Richardis to do so. Perhaps I should send him to Naudingen?
My headaches have returned. The voice too.
Dear Staff,
Our beloved king grows ever more afraid of fire. As a result, please take the following precautions: no open flames such as candles or torches must be brought too close to the royal person.
Second, please ensure basins and barrels of water are kept well-watered and close at hand for immediate firefighting duties as appropriate.
We appreciate your cooperation during this difficult time.
- The Butler
Staff,
Imagine my displeasure on discovering a stack of untidy hay bales piled up at the entrance of Prince Bernard's room!
Not only is this hay unsightly, it presents a deadly fire hazard.
Also inform the carpenter to repair the supports around the door. They could collapse at any moment.
Do try and remember, people, that this is a royal lodging. It is not a barn.
- The Butler
I do not like it here, but it is better than staying with Father. He has changed. He is quiet sometimes and seems normal, but then he is angry again and speaks with that strange voice.
Everything is different. I don't want to be like Father anymore. I don't want to be king at all! I know I am not supposed to, but all I want to do is fight like Eivor does.
Executioner,
I order forthwith the immediate execution of the servants who recently served Queen Richardis. Their role in the gross treason of my beloved son and heir should be obvious to all.
- In his Majesty's Hand
King Charles
All this is not entirely Charles' fault. The devil has tormented him since he was a child. Who could bear such a thing and remain normal?
Yet he has always responded to me, and to God. When we pray together the darkness recedes, and he becomes gentle and kind again. Just as it is written. "Resist the devil and he will flee."
If I can only get him alone, without his guards and his advisors, I know I can get through to him. I must try, with God's help. It is my duty as his wife, after all.
Dear Staff,
It has come to my attention that members of staff are spreading rumors about secret confrontations, levers, gates, and death-traps in our sovereign's quarters.
This is patent nonsense and you are hereby admonished to continue your daily duties without giving in to idle speculation and groundless gossip.
Further violation shall answer to the lash.
- The Butler
Champlieu Ruins[]
Brothers,
With the departure of the Brotherhood from Britannia following the death of Emperor Honorius, our work here in Paris is at an end. The cold wind that blows across Britannia has reached our shores as well. As Magister Vitus said, we must leave and regroup to focus attention where it is most needed.
All Hidden Ones are ordered to vacate Paris immediately. The Bureau will be sealed, and the three door keys hidden in the ruins at Champlieu, Diodorum, Gisacum. It may be that at a future time, when present misunderstandings have been forgotten, others will have need of it again.
Vitus has extended an open welcome from the Bureau in Cologne to any who would make that journey. For those who choose to do so, I will meet you there.
–C. C.
Captain,
Send some of your best men to search the various runs located near Paris at Champlieu, Gisacum, and Diodorum. Do not tell them what they are looking for or why, only that whatever they find must be surrendered to you immediately. Deliver any items to my attendant with the utmost haste.
This actions requires the most careful discretion, for which I assure you we will both be held accountable.
–Mariwig
Coteaux de la Seine[]
In the name of God and Saint Taurinus himself, someone help me remove this madman! Barely a week ago he broke into my sheep pen, released all our sheep (though they do not stray far, we feed them well), and stood in the middle of the pen waiting for Lord knows what!
When questioned he answered that he was expecting a "fated challenger". What nonsense! No one has come, yet every day he goes to the pen, releases the sheep, and stands waiting in the same spot! I would chase him off but he holds a spear, and I'd rather not be at the end of it.
My farm, everything I have, to Marwen, Lillie, and Theoda.
May their lives be as bountiful as the harvests we had years ago, before all this.
I write this as I prepare to leave for the ruins near Amiens. Richo said he's seen the governor there, taking the silver and food we were forced to give. We barely have enough as it is, and in the time of snow we freeze and starve. It is time to take back what is ours.
Epernay[]
Sister,
I must warn you not come here. It was a mistake to join these rebels. The man who spoke outside the tavern and convinced us with swelling words of justice and glory - well, I should have known no good, trustworthy soul would patronize that place. We were fools to listen to him.
Remember he told us his name was Fantome? I have since learned his real name. He plays a part of great import here, giving out the tasks and overseeing everything big and small. He has now somehow convinced a Northerner to aid him, for what payment I do not know (though judging by what is beneath that tavern, I can only imagine). How could anyone trust a Northerner? They threaten Paris and our families!
The more I see him, the less I like "Fantome". For one, he takes far too much wine and cheese than is natural. It is too late for me to leave without raising suspicion, but do not worry. I remain watchful, and no harm will befall me.
Just you stay safely there. Do not follow me here! I will make my way back when I can.
Hiltrude
Murmiliacum[]
Clay 300 livres
Bracelet 23 livres
Rings 11 livres
Goblets 52 livres
Pendants 13 livres
DO NOT TOUCH THE CLAY
Silver to be melted first
Pontem Esera[]
Lady Theodrate is greeting all our guests from the far reaches of the Empire. My wife makes an excellent hostess.
With God's will, our guests will see reason and send arms to defend Paris. We must stand together, or the heathen hore will pick us apart, one by one.
Yet I fear the influence of Charles' timidity in the face of this unbridled monstrosity will sway these distant lords from offering their swords.
That I have such a craven as my liege lord is a sore test of my patience, and my soul.
I must control my anger and pray that God grants the King the wisdom and courage to unite the Empire against this death-knell.
- Odo, Count of Paris
Dearest Odo,
Our guests are arriving at the Manoir des Fleurs Rouges. A few became lost, arriving south of Paris instead of north. I dispatched messengers to the rest, telling to them to look for our abundant fields of gorgeous red poppies.
Do make haste, my love, our guests are eager to parley with you about the war. While waiting, they are taste-testing our prized mulled wine.
Your faithful wife,
Lady Theodrate
Evresin[]
Remonstrance Rebuke
Breaching Of Faith
O Father Above
la honte la honte la honte
In The Eternal Fires Of Hell They Burn
Aquila Sewers[]
Most Serious Exhortation to New Assistants
The preparation of the dagger must be performed perfectly. The devil is watching. There can be no error. Assistants who came before have suffered for their carelessness. Therefore be vigilant.
When you enter the preparation room, you are entering a tabernacle of God. Be mindful and do everything in humility or obedience.
Take the dagger and dip its blade into the blood of the sacrifice. No blood must go into the hilt. Once the blade is dipped, do not touch it. It is holy.
Enter the inner chamber with reverance. When I beckon, present the dagger to me with hilt forward. Keep your eyes lowered. Do not speak. Do not look at my charge. Once the dagger is passed, leave quickly and without sound.
Do this, and no harm will befall you. The devil cannot touch you.
- Little Mother
Euphrasia,
Once the queen is secured, you must move quickly. We cannot expect her abduction to remain undiscovered long.
The queen above all others is key to Francia's deliverance. Do not wait for her consent. Do not attempt to reason with her. God himself has delivered her into our hands, and we must fulfill the duty before us. Purge the devil from her completely.
If you are interrupted before the task is accomplished, she must die at your hand. We cannot let her live under the power of evil to influence the king further.
Do not be concerned by the severity of your task. This is the moment for which you were created, and to which God saved you. He has endowed you with unique gifts. Use them now with absolute surety that it is His will for Francia, and for His Kingdom.
Soli Deo gloria,
- Isidore
Durocas[]
Date Unknown -
I am alone.
One after the other they dropped. I could only watch as they released their own floodgates and let their scarlet river of life spill over the village. It was all too much... but then, my Enna left me.
I thought we were going to make it, I thought we were going to leave together - free, away from this mess of guilt and confusion. But their words got to my Enna, and I found her hanging by our bed, a small smile on her white face.
They told us it was the only way to absolve our sins, but I was cautious. These robed men and women... they fed us words that gave us fear. What were they really after? I do not know. Maybe it was really only all my fault after all. It does not matter now.
It is now the time for me to go.
Wait for me, Enna.
This blasted village is mad! Everyone is in a pit of their own despair and they slowly undo themselves, one by one! I will not have a part in this insanity! Mari, I cannot wait for you, my child, lest I be the next one to spontaneously let my own blood. Should you return for your things, I left most of them in this box.
Unfortunately, I loaned this to Aunt Theoda before this mania struck the village and the key is still with her. I do not wish to pay her or anyone else a visit now for I must leave as quickly as I can with my life! If you wish to unlock this, go to her house, south of the church. You will surely find the key hidden somewhere. I am headed for Paris! Goodbye, crazed folk!
Evreux[]
Chesa,
I would like the usual order of vitrail please, to the same adress in Paris. A few ruffians had too much to drink and thought it a good idea to make a game of throwing rocks. Below are the estimations my men took, but if you require more precise measurements simply tell them that you are under my orders. You will be allowed to enter the premises then. My thanks.
Odo
FRAME: Timber
WIDTH: 10 pouces
HEIGHT: 12 pouces
10 PIECES
Deacon,
Just to the south of Evreux, along a path past that cursed tavern, you will find a small home. It has been left empty for some time, my work having constrained me here in Aquila, and will be in need of cleaning. Pay particular attention to the cellar, which is prone to flooding.
Do not disturb the acolyte there. He is being prepared for deliverance and requires perfect solitude in which to commune with God.
- Little Mother
Gisacum Ruins[]
Little Mother's House[]
Little Mother,
The situation with the king has deteriorated. I have decided the queen's apostasy and interference can be suffered no longer. Her removal has been arranged.
Await at Evreux for further word. Once we have her, she wil be brought to you. Take her immediately to Aquila for deliverance.
Our victory is almost in our hands. Do not falter.
Soli Deo gloria,
- Isidore
4 - LM at Evreux
7 - LM near Paris. Why?
10 - LM again at Evreux
11 - LM gone from Evreux
13 - LM's house still unattended
15 - LM back at Evreux
17 - LM at Evreux
20 - LM still at Evreux. Waiting for something?
22 - A large group arrived at LM's house, then left toward Aquila. The queen amongst them! Could not follow.
22 - Someone is watching me...
Pont-de-l'Arche[]
To the Guard Captain of Pont-de-l'Arche Monastery,
Greetings! I am Gerswinda du Lilibonne, from Lilibonne, and this is a holy proclamation.
In this time of tribulation, there can be no more deliberation or contemplation. Now is the day of jubilation!
For all decent men and women must take up arms against the godless Northern scourge sweeping our home ... our nation!
Cast off the holy habits and embrace the righteous transformation!
I bring with me an assortment of weaponry from which the sisters can arm themselves. Advise them to think upon their preferred armament before my arrival so the selection process is speedy and ... without complication.
For God, and Honor, and all Creation!
Gerswinda du Lilibonne
(A noble woman, by station.)
Melunois[]
Captain,
Take a squad of your sharpest, stealthiest men and slip up to Melun. Keep a firm watch on those heathens and report your findings back to me, personally.
- Lord Odo
Count of Paris
Blihaut[]
Writing to remember adventures with brothers, kin.
...
Ul is a basterd. Took my share of meade.
...
Hear of great sord by smith. Oofbert sord. Brothers we go, when sun is up.
...
DEAD ALL DEAD
Bradeia[]
My Son,
Time runs short and the heathens march not far away. Should I fall, I wish you to have our family heirlooms. It is your birthright.
I hid the chest below the ground in the fermentation chamber. The hidden entrance is hidden nearby, where you and your brothers used to hide in the shed.
Your loving father,
- Albertus
Chartres[]
In light of Old Father's failings, we seek to follow our new Father, the powerful North God Odin. He who shall provide, and he who shall give us what we do not have. He shall give us new courage, and new life.
LIST OF GRIEVEANCES[sic] AGAINST THE OLD FATHER
Meran's daughter drowned in the river
Elder Lothe taken by illness
Gunther's lost love
Piss and filth on the streets
Sacking of villages
Continual death and sickness
Prayers not answered
Help not given
THINGS KNOWN ABOUT THE NEW FATHER
Enjoys mead and wine
Has one eye that sees all
Likes ravens
Diodurum Ruins[]
(Same note as Champlieu Ruins)
Good men,
The ruins cannot be accessed by normal means. Thanks to Baulwin's fall into the pond, a few of us discovered another entrance below the body of water. Arm yourselves before making your way there, for there have been Norsemen around those parts.
Keep your wits about you.
(Same note as Champlieu Ruins)
Medanta[]
...that day, Sigfred and Sinric put up the dragon ship in the land of the Letts
They walked through the wide-wood, to the huts of the forest-folk
The arrows rained down till the battle-sweat flowed and the iron hammered mail
Four chests of wares they took from the smoldering hall. That was a good raid...
Melun[]
[Sketch of Assassin insignia]
My brother,
I scoured the ruins west of the slums of Paris as you asked. Within I found an ancient door bearing a symbol much like the letter A yet strangely altered. Perhaps ou know it? The door would not open. While I struggled with it, I caught movement just beyond the edge of my sight. A careful search of the area revealed nothing, yet I cannot banish from my mind the image of a hooded figure.
The area may already be in use. I think we must search elsewhere for our new camp sight.
Vive le rebellion
–P.
Sigfred,
We won a skirmish with Frankish warriors. None of your war-band died, though two men took wounds.
We slew five Franks, took four horses, three swords, and a bag of hacksilver.
Best of all, we took a casket of wine. It was full, but now it is not.
- Goll
Sinric, we swore an oath not to attack Paris.
My brother, we swore an oath on the old gods.
But now you are dead. Charles broke the oath.
Let it all burn.
O my love, what have they done to you? Why did we listen to them, those bitter little robed men and their poisoned words. They all still live, moving and breathing, while you lie here dead and abused, your beautiful back torn apart.
You should be supping with me now in our little hut, teasing me with that sweet naughty smirk that always played around your mouth. Not laying here cold and me utterly alone.
Farewell my poor, kind, wonderful husband. They stole both our lives today. I pray with all of the little faith I have left that God, in whose name they did this, visits them with swift and ruthless justice.
Dero,
I do not want what happened during the last mission to repeat itself. Stay alert, be wary, and do not be heroes. I will see you and the rest when you are safely returned.
Pierre
PS: Tell Enna to reserve her recklessness for Orlog.
Note: Cut the cheese into small pieces, makes for easy rationing.
Another Note: Sheep's milk, or cow?
Recipe:
- Fresh milk to be stored in vats for a day.
-Dissolve rennet and stir mixture steadily.
- Allow to sit before straining.
- Age for four to five weeks.
MAKE SURE TO AGE BEFORE EATING! Borg got greedy and he stank like horseshit for a week.
My brother Sinric taught me these runes. He is a good jarl.
We came to Sinricsland from over the sea. Things are better here, this I know.
His dottir Toka helps us run the war bands and build the boat.
Sinric says we can go fishing in the spring.
Pruvinis[]
Ulfberht Sword, military camp.
Take and return.
If separated, meet back at hideout north of Pruvinis.
Map on the back.
Paris[]
More of those miscreants who pledged their services to me turned traitor. I hear whispers in the tunnels—they fear me, they think I'm mad, and they plot against me. Did they not hear the screams of those before? My pets had a grand time, though the bones were troublesome to clear.
These men are worse than rats. Disloyal to the bone. It's my fault, I suppose, for allowing them into my tunnels.
I will show them what it takes to be a Rat King. My pets will eat well—every piece of tender meat I can give them. Once the poison takes me and my body lies warm and fresh, they will eat their best meal yet.
Captain,
We have uncovered strange activity in the abandoned one-storey house along the curtain walls, just east of teh northern gate.
If you will send an extra patrol, we will investigate right way.
- the Gate Watch
Truly the Saint protects us!
I watched as one of the invaders broke into the Saint's church, shattering glass in all the windows with a cudgel he had made from a tree branch. Immediately a seething madness took hold of him, and he died where he stood. The Saint himself hitched him to Eumenides' grim cart, and the sorry wretch's soul was dragged down to hell.
Then I saw another of the wretched Northerners clamber right up the spire of the church. But he misjudged his way and down he tumbled. The holy roof shattered all his bones. It was none other than Germain's doing!
A third rushed forward, his eyes set on the Saint's sepulchre. Truly that was their last sight! Then a fourth came up but the wind knocked him down, and he also was swept from on high down low to hell. A fifth reached the tomb and pried it open, but the very first stone he loosed hit hard his chest. The deadly blow, guided as if by the Saint's own hand, impelled his soul to forsake its despicable abode and make down its way to sup on the bitter victuals of hell.
At this the plunderers gave up their task and ran, dismayed. It was then that I saw the cloaked figure of Germain atop the blessed church's roof, watching as they fled! O God be praised for this wondrous sight, that I might bear witness to His glory and the work of His holy Saint!
- Brother Bruno
Captain,
My spies have tracked your attacker to the ruined Abbey of Saint Germain just west of Paris.
As you have managed to lose three separate watches to this single unknown assailant, and as a result have left your duty at the excavations unfulfilled, I want you to see to it personally. Search that Abbey, find the assailant, and do not report back until the matter is resolved.
Permanently.
- I.M.
My Queen,
You asked if I knew any Breton folk remedies to help during the coming siege. Aye, here is one.
* Mix a salve of wine, garlic, leeks and oxgall in an iron drum, freshly scrubbed.
* Apply the salve to festering wounds at the first sign of rot. Wash and clean all wounds with care.
These ingredients are common enough, though maybe be hard to find during a siege.
I an always bring ye some - for a price.
- Nolwenn
Boatmen Baths Tavern[]
Captain,
My scribe has unhappily proved himself to be of treacherous character. Find him and make certain he does not return to trouble us further.
The materials in his possession are stolen and of a nature most personal. Included is a watchword allowing entry to the church. It cannot be allowed to fall into the wrong hands. Recover and destroy everything. Leave no trace. I must insist upon your utmost discretion in this matter.
Report to my priest at the gate when the matter is resolved.
–E.
Ladies,
Business has picked up with the threat of Northern raiders just outside the city. We've been busy, but that's no reason to start calling our guests by their true names. They demand discretion, and it's your job to give it them. Regular guests have given us the names they prefer to be called, and they're writ down here. Keep them in your memory.
Bastien
Fantome P
Adalbert
Goll
Bal
Ebels
Furderic
There's one name missing from this list and you all know who that is. Him you are to call by the name "Liutward", except when in chambers. Then you call him by his real name, and you answer only to "Richardis".
− Germain
Clever Fox Tavern[]
WANTED: Richo, commonly known on the streets as the Rat King.
For harassment, extortion, torture, and murder by rodent.
Last spotted near the city sewers.
Gold will be awarded for any information.
Report to Captain Bolie.
Your Shining Majesty,
Dearest, most wonderful Charles, may your reign be as great as your generosity is vast.
We humble players invite you, our beloved patron, to attend a new performance upon the Amiens stage.
We shall debut a scintillating new play dubbed The Measure of a King.
Wine and merriment aplenty will also be provided.
In addition, we shall also provide delightfully garbed companions costumed according to your exacting specifications.
Your loyal troupe,
The King's Players
Defender's Rest[]
Captain,
We caught the thief who stole your key. Come to the dungeons to retrieve it.
You might also post more guards by the river entrance.
It is too lightly guarded, and the thief nearly escaped.
-the Defender's Rest Watch
Gozlin,
Send more letters. I wipe my arse with them.
- Ebels
Flooded Slums[]
Brother Albert,
My news is grim. The heathens march ever closer, and food grows short.
The peasants now eat a dish known as 'rorridge,' something more awful than it sounds. How can they digest those awful, naked tails?
Even worse tidings, several of the brothers of the monastery are missing and believed lost.
Brother Guillaume and the rest ventured into the flooded crypt to retrieve some holy relics, a great treasure, but have yet to emerge.
Pray for us!
–Brother Jules
Brother Jules!
Calamity has struck us! You were right to warn us not to venture into this hellish pit to recover the sacred relics.
I fear the demon rats shall devour us. We shall begin digging our way out.
Pray for us!
–Brother Guillaume
Dearest Margaret,
I hope things are better in Bordeaux than they are here...
Alas, but there is no easy way to write this.
Little Pepin is missing. We were starving, and he grew sickly and weak. There is so little to eat these days.
The only food I could get was 'rorridge' - you know what it is, but I told poor Pepin it was horsemeat.
It is tough to prepare, how the pot would squeak as they were boiled. The meat made Pepin ill. I do not know how he had the strength to flee.
I hope the heathens come soon and put an end to our misery.
- Henri
Nolwenn,
My good Breton, when you return from your latest foray, please meet me at Saint-Julien.
I have urgent need for more medicine and supplies.
Yours candidly,
- Queen R.
Île aux Vaches[]
Furderic,
Brother, I need your help. One of the cows has ate my keys. As I was feeding them in the fields the fool keyring must have fell out, and one of the stupid animals swallowed it whole.
Come fast. I can't stomach searching through their dung on my own.
Louis
Manoir des Fleures Rouges[]
Seigneur,
The rats swarmed through the tunnels connecting the farmhouse and the manor.
They devoured our grain stores and are biting the field hands.
We've killed many but their festering corpses remain.
I have ordered the farmhouse boarded up to stem the tide. Do the same at the manor.
Your faithful reeve,
- Henri
Count Odo's Study: Placitum Generalis
Father Thibault,
My old friend, I seek your guidance on a pressing matter of spiritual concern.
Normally, I would bring these matters into the sacrement of Holy Confession with my Father Confessor, but this war makes such conveniences difficult.
The siege has driven our family priest, Walter du Sens, over the edge, and he is no longer stable enough to hear any Confession.
I fear for the safety of my family, particularly Lady Theodrate. Sometimes the urge to flee overwhelms me. We could escape so easily through a smuggler's tunnel, but I cannot abandon my post.
Yet late at night, doubts attack me. Nightmares of fire and blood stalk my dreams until I sit upright in bed, trembling with fear.
The meaning is clear. My stubborn defense of Paris may bring down a terrible slaughter upon us all.
Once again, I ask you to share your wisdom. What should I do?
Your former student,
Lord Odo
Count of Paris
Lord Odo,
Allies have sent men and silver to aid us, but more is needed.
Many fear to give for the defense of Paris, lest they leave their own realms unguarded.
Yet we need silver. Perhaps we should send out additional appeals, even as far as Frisia.
Your faithful captain,
- Lord Hubertus
Lutetia Bureau[]
(Same note as Champlieu Ruins)
Gustav,
The higher ups have taken interest in some of them ruins and ordered me off to Champlieu, and some of the other boys to Gisacum and Diodorum. What they expect us to find out there, I don't know. Those broken stones been there forever, since before Charlemagne himself! At any rate, that's where I'm gone.
Seeing as you're stuck in Paris guarding that old door, we'll miss our dice night. Trust you to pull the safe, easy duty! I haven't forgot what you owe me, don't worry about that. You can buy us both wine with my winnings. We'll drink it when I'm back.
- Arnulf
"This place of honor forever holding, the deeds that were done
We abide always many in number, yet together are one
Whose firm faith and whos lonely labor, serve only the fight
I must yet stay unknown in the darkness, so you may work in the light"
Forgive the dead soldiers. They would not leave peacefully.
–AC
Palais de la Cité[]
Captain,
A madwoman haunts the tunnels beneath the Palais, interfering with our patrols. We feel she's hiding something down there.
This woman is one of the Palais maids. Will you send someone to find more?
The maid can be found in the eastern gardens, taking her breaks.
- Ebert
My darling jailor,
To the keeper of my heart, our moments together have unlocked my captive desires.
I know you and your guards must guard the cells and protect the Palais, but I have such need to see you again. Please, let us have one more tryst together before the heathens burn us all.
Meet me at our love nest.
Yours in flame,
- Albrada
Good sir,
Odo commands you to get upstairs and board up the windows. I have already locked the underground tunnels to the other wing.
Guard that key closely. And may God save us all.
- Henriette
Staff,
Dark days are upon us, but with Heaven's help we will shine through.
Let us all do our part in the coming battle, and if that means baking the finest meal Lord Odo and Lady Theodrate have ever eaten, then that is what we shall do.
Let our goodly labor and craft show our appreciation for their just reign and godly ways.
-Henriette
My Staff,
Thank you for the wonderful feast with the delightful surprise! None of us expected four-and-twenty blackbirds baked in a pie.
The look on Odo's face when the living birds flew out of the pie-crust was spectacular. Wasn't that a dainty dish to place before the Count?
I do hope the birds are chased out of the palace and do not soil the furniture.
My thanks again for a memorable meal.
- Theodrate
I am sore amazed, and at loss to describe the things I have witnessed. I must write plainly as I can, so that those who come after this awful day will know that there is a God in Heaven still.
We watched from the city wall as the invaders set fire to the bridge. The very earth groaned as a dark pall covered the sky and hid the clouds. Brave Ebels took up his axe in the name of God, and stood alone against the horde. He fell, struck down by the cruel Northerner, and Paris fell with him.
The guards on the tower wept to see it. Young men and old groaned and cried out. Mothers tore and snatched at their hair, and pulling out their own locks. Some of the women, mad with grief, bared their breasts and struck with them with their fists. Other scratched at their cheeks, adding blood to their tears.
Suddenly above them all a single voice cried out "Have mercy, O Germain, on us your luckless children!" For a moment there was perfect stillness, as if Heaven itself paused to listen. Then all joined in a single lamentation. The ramparts resounded with the name of Germain. On each tower the warriors and the highborn who led them shouted. The whole city swelled with the echoes, and the people cried out in one accord: "O Germain, hear our cry; help us, your steadfast servants!"
Faithful Henriette,
Thank you for this delicious meal and more importantly, thank you for your hears of faithful service. No doubht you have earned a heavenly reward.
Alas, battle calls even as my dear wife lies unattended for the nonce.
Please ensure Walter du Sens comforts her in these dark hours and, if need be, delivers the last rites.
- Count Odo
Plague District[]
There can be no doubt. Bishop Engelwin is stealing from the tithes. The parchments I carry show it. Engelwin already suspects my discovery. I must leave the church or die here.
I have gained the watchword and will use it to get pas the gate. It is:
JOB 1:21
How apt a scripture to his many perversions! I fear my deception will not last long, and the bishop's guards are everywhere. I can only think to go to the slims. The sisters will hide me. From there, I will leave Paris under cover of night and flee to Evresin.
God grant me mercy, and may Saint Germain protect me!
Listen up, Rats.
We've been doing alright taking from the smugglers, but now it's time for something big.
Everyone knows they're hiding a fortune in ransom silver underneath Sainte-Geneviève Church. When the Norse strike, we'll bust in, grab it for ourselves and leave Paris to its fate.
Everybody loses but us!
–The Rat King
Day 1. Today I enjoyed my first porridge using my "secret" ingredient. Quite tasty, if a bit lumpy and "furry"
Day 5. More "rorridge" today - breakfast, lunch, and dinner. It is an acquired taste, but such a joy to slurp down...
Day 15. I AM THE RAT KING
THEY OBEY MY MAD PIPER THOUGHTS AND SCURRY THROUGH THE DARK PLACES BETWEEN THE STARS
Saint-Denis[]
YZ AFIMDVPN XTZMPFZDN DH
XIGKZHYDI
YZ AFIMDVPN TFVDN TY
NZKOZHOMDIHZG FPOZODTZ
PVD IMTGPN
TX AIMI NPZNNDIHPG PVD
PZHYPHOPM
KTNNPN TZLPD TY FIXPG
YPXPHO
TVYZ ZPG
KMI XFTPD KMIQDGT
KMDGPN NZXPHYPN
PFODGPNLPZ KMIQDGPG
XIHODHZO ZO OZMODPN
NIFPG GTHZO
OCTAVVS[note 6]
BXIIVGDQQ IIGSBOVRRN YSA NLFNZNY XHYIXHSXO OCQ ZQK GTGSNMA LCH OSSAAAXO
KNIN AGIN YMBOELITXM STXSZTH CK XVNXOA CXPO NFTAAXNK DNXEYA
AVIGPH DNVNGPTQG RO ONVTAPNG ELHMY NCNQC QZGSGDKLRN NCZDMSXN BCPZNC
GZZ RXGAM VIY SHD ISBX HCNG HCBOAK XHQYQDP KR YEAXO MSCY IMB PAPR TQBXI VSH PEBRI VSH XARRMV
OIIZ NIHYRN TZ QXHEQHMQK AIQCFZ ZCOZK LCH ELHZGIRBK
FNHY PROPSZD QZX YEMBROGIN DYBX ELIZIGH HEKXN LCFDYSZIOSA ZOR STXSZTH SHZHSF TZ SIFCSG XKIZDCCFZ
SECVNDVS POST TERTIVM TVM QVARTVS POST QVINTVM[note 7]
Sainte-Geneviève Church[]
DELIVERANCE
Child of God, do you struggle with sin? Do you want to walk more closely with your Savior? Would you like to know and understand your Heavenly Father's plan for you?
God Himself has made the way. Come to His altar, seek out his goodness, and find your own deliverance!
INSTRUCTIONS FOR DELIVERANCE
1. Wear your official robe. You will not be permitted to see the Bishop without it. It is an acceptable covering for your unrighteousness, without which you cannot enter the sanctified chamber. Robes are available on the upper floor.
2. Prepare your heart. You are bringing yourself before Almighty God and his minister, who will brook neither deceit or duplicity.
3. When it is time, present yourself to the deacon at the entrance to the Bishop's inner chamber. He will let you in.
4. You may not leave until the ritual is complete. Guards are there to ensure your obedience.
5. You will be asked to remove your robe, thereby revealing yourself fully before God and his holy servant.
6. Kneel in the ritual water, and wait for the deliverance to being.
Arrangements have been made for you following the ritual.
Father William,
I expect a complete collection of tithes by week's end. Instruct your men not to skip the northern quarter again. I am well aware of their lazy indiscretions. Next time the shortfall will be taken from their wages, and yours.
Do not tally any of the coin, I forbid it. I will make a full accounting of it once it is delivered to me.
–Bishop Engelwin
Isidorus,
I am unhappy to report that despite my most careful subtlety, the king remains resistant. The blame for this can be placed entirely on the queen. Her presence alone is enough to end any conersation. What little headway we make is undone as soon as he consults with her. Charles is altogether too weak minded to move beyond her influence without our intervention.
I believe our only recourse is to remove her. The king will then be laid open to our counsel. It will not [obscured]
Saint-Étienne[]
My Captain,
We have captured an ally of the Norse and are interrogating him in the nearby church belltower.
This traitor broke into the locked church by some unknown means.
Luckily, we caught the thief before he could sneak in.
- Serjeant Umbert
Bishop Gozlin,
I implore you to spend some coin and repair the church's walls. The fittings on the giant cross are near rusted through and could give way at any moment, wounding your parishioners.
Faith alone cannot sustain masonry!
Sincerely,
Brother Armand
Saint-Merri[]
The arrangements are all made. Tomorrow we leave the safety of our walls to walk the circuit of the city bearing Saint Germain's holy casket. May he bless Paris for another year! I am fearful, I cannot deny it, but I have put my trust and hope in God.
---
It was a miracle! We bore the Saint's casket as always, frightened for our lives but with our hearts set to follow God's will. Alas, one of the invaders spied us as we moved beyond their camp. Stooping low he grabbed hold of a deadly stone that surely would have been our doom. Yet as he cast it forward with all his might, the stone turned back and struck his own head, and he fell lifeless into the water! We continued our circuit unmolested. Praise to God and all honor to blessed Saint Germain!
- Brother Fardulf
Brothers and Sisters,
The Heathen army approaches. We must save the treasures of the Church.
Take the wealth and secure it in the crypt beneath Saint-Merri and offer up a prayer.
Father Gozlin
Bishop of Paris
Ebels,
When Father died, I took it upon myself to see you grown into a good and Godly man.
And a mighty man you have become, a great warrior, second to none.
But though you have a mighty arm, you lack the shield of faith. I pray for you, Brother.
The next time you feel the urge to visit a brothel, say confession instead.
The righteous path is the road to eternal victory.
Your brother,
-Gozlin
Sigfred's Forward Camp[]
Calling all Heathens!
I, Herbert du Lilibonne, challenge every single one of you to a duel to the death! Prepare to meet your violent end, to fall helpless and groveling to the dirt while I glory in the adoration of my admirers! If you find the courage to rise to this summons, I will be waiting in the arena at Coteaux de la Seine. Ready yourself, and come for your reckoning!
Warriors,
Take what you need to ready yourselves for the siege.
There are more supplies in the chest, but Olaf lost the key down the old well.
- Hrolfr, Master of Wares
Sigfred,
We lugged these catapults from Melun to the city and much work remains to be done.
Yet our warriors are wasting time scribbling notes and diaries. Who caused all this?
Send this Raven-talker back to England. Order the warriors back to work.
- Goll
Bonjour Toka,
The Frankish rebels here are wreaking havoc against the loyalist forces. With more silver, they might topple them altogether.
I know the rebels are Franks, but you share their goals. If you were to aid them, those goals could be achieved sooner.
- Pierre
River Rhine[]
Fort Ehrenfels[]
I have business to the South. As long as you two are here, I know the river will be safe. No one should bother me unless something happens to both of you.
Katzenelnbogen[]
Just you and me for now. Boss will only show up if we’re gone. At least if we’re dead we won’t have to deal with how angry he’ll be with us for having to come back!
Ireland[]
Connacht[]
Lugaid
High King of Ireland
Son of Lóegaire mac Néill "The Cursed"
Died 507 of causes unknown
O wise one of nature, O spirit of water and moss!
Heal my dear wife, she suffers so.
We will bring yarrow root and mistle berries and dew of the morn.
Be warned.
A haunting black boar roams this area, wrought with an unrelenting rage, roving and ramming and digging its tusks into the ground like a savage beast.
It cannot be tempered. I have tried. And for that, I have suffered greatly. A hole in my side that will not close. I may make it home to see my son before I perish. I may not. But let me be the last to suffer a fool's fate.
Heed my warning. Leave this place. Or may God have mercy on your soul.
"If you would be druid, you must pass the trial.
It is the ancient rule.
If you would be druid, make path through the trees,
Feel the roots 'neath your feet, the dead of the leaves.
Drink of the fog, drink of death.
It is ever the ancient rule."
So says The Morrigan
Asfinn[]
The amber carried by members of the Children of Danu is said to come from the ancient oak, Eó Mugna.
This tree, an offshoot of the primordial Tree of Knowledge, bore three fruits. Aplles, acorns, hazelnuts.
Its wood could not be cut nor burned. Its roots could strangle a sleeping man.
Each Children of Danu carries a small bit of the amber from this tree. The amber quickens with light at the touch of its owner's blood.
Athlone[]
I fell upon them, still drunk from the ale stolen at Athlone, and took two before the rest ran off shouting, "The island!" I lack the strength to continue.
Ben Bulben[]
Beneath Binn Ghulbain
The fearsome Fianna sleep,
Ward-wrapped, faerie-charmed,
Guarded from time's killing kiss.
March from your mounds
With your host of fey forces!
As you did on a moonlit mid-night,
While a wee waif watched from the shadows.
Carnagan[]
I breathe in the fog – sweet, sweet fog! It fills me with joy and dread. And the worms in my brain writhe for dead!
Ah! I embrace that death. Worms, here now is your meal!
Disturb not the circles of ancient stone, creted before our time by the Tuatha Dé Danann to inspire us with wonder.
The Circles of Stone, Water, Moon and others are found throughout our land. The druids of old drew power and magic from them. May future druids do so as well.
Cashelore[]
Flann has gathered an imposing army, my lord. The camp buzzes with talk of taking Cashelore castle itself.
I counsel you to be prepared.
Do not go near the scaffolding! It's difficult to get to, and only fools scale the rickety slats.
Eoin thought to amuse us by balancing on the beam while drinking his ale.
The first ale went fine enough, but the third sent him on a quick journey to the rocks.
Downpatrick Head[]
I cast this note to the winds.
Salty brine crusts on this old drengr's helm. The wounds and scars of two score battles call out with every moment.
When will I feast among the fallen? Surely, someone somewhere can best me in single combat?
I have not met that Vikingr yet.
Kesh Gorann[]
We have learned to create a fog that seeps into one's mind.
White-edged mushroom and hazel bark and shavings of the sacred amber.
With bear-heart and blood of a scholar.
Burn to a glowing and the heavy smoke will fill the valley.
Lough Gara[]
Wren,
During the tumult of Rathcroghan's festival, I direct you to use the trust granted you in the guise as poet to spread news of false events.
No need to make a great speech. It is better to keep to the shadows. Move among the partiers and tell them to abjure their oaths to Ireland and to engage in what mayhem they may.
You do this among the commoners whilst I work upon kings and priests. Bit by bit, week by week, we will corrupt these gulls.
– The Oak
Lough Glendallon[]
Eivor,
You sleep so beautifully, I could not bring myself to wake you.
Forgive me for leaving. The encounter with the Children of Danu has reminded me of difficult times. I feel I must spend some time alone.
–Ciara
Port Auley[]
My research suggests that The Wren sometimes meets with a leader of the Children of Danu on a small island in Lough Gara.
Two nights ago, I hid among the shadows near a large ritual stone hoping to catch sight of them. A figure arrived in the darkness. Then a second figure. The Wren.
They heard my movements and I fled into the night. I know not who I saw, but am certain my life is under threat.
As suspected, everything of value has been taken to Kesh Corann. The people here fear the druids's magic and will take no action.
A raving Viking stalks the seashore, mad as a winter squall!
Do not speak with him. He wishes to fight. To the death! His!
Yes, he wants you to kill him, but he'll fight you for the privelege. Mad, I tell you! So stay clear of Downpatrick Head.
Rathcroghan[]
Most esteemed King, Conchobar,
We, Kings of Aileach, send you this inquiry in alarm
To what purpose do you allow Flann Sinna to quarter his hordes within the borders of Connacht?
His mad aggression threatens all our kingdoms.
Kings Domnall and Nial of Aileach
The traders in Port Auley are no longer bringing ivory to us.
We fear that bandits have at last overtaken them.
We mourn the tradesmen, but more still we mourn the loss of trade.
Tuam[]
At times the land is covered by a fog, more dense than any I have known. It seems to seep into my mind and addle my senses.
I have seen others affected as well. I am determined to find its source.
Here I set down the man's statement in his very words:
I seen it. A dog, nought but a mongrel, muddy spit drippin' from its jaw.
Then it turns to me and speaks! The dog! It says, "Be gone, wretch!"
Clear as day! I ran a full mile, I did.
Indeed, I believe the man encountered a púca. We must all be prepared to defend ourselves.
Most esteemed sir,
I been helpful to you in the past, I have. And I believe this gossip I heard might be helpful, too.
Some villagers who pray at the old effigy have heard strange cries echoing up from they-don't-know-where.
I think it's from the cavern that runs 'neath the village. The one you had me deliver peat to.
I just thought you ought know, afore people get curious the way they do.
I ask no silver, although I am most needful...
Erce, the gong farmer
Druids of Danu!
The ritual hour comes upon us. All efforts must bend to its success.
We have offerings aplenty to please The Cursed, our High Druid
I have left to prepare the ritual. My púca is with me as always.
Flood the land with fog! My púca will take strength from it for her changes of form.
–The Cursed.
Dublin[]
By Thor, Odin and Freya! Curse those that have burned Dublin, the city we have built stone by stone!
We have fled, but there is no peace. We fear the Irish will come after us even here.
Will those that despise us never accept us in this land?
Muiredach mac Eógain
King of Aileach 465-489
Son of Eógan mac Néill
Died in his sleep
... Then Niall of the Nine came to the last of his treasures, the shield of Cú Chulainn. He knew it would stir jealousy and violence among his sons if it went to any one of them, so fine a thing it was. So, Niall locked it away using five carved figures, "The Sons of Niall", each key useless without its other four brothers. These tokens he gave to four of his sons: the first went to Eógan, Prince of Inis Eóghain...
O noble Vikingr
One of Thorgest's best, now felled by age. But to rest here in a ship, your grave.
Thorgest himself is no more. But two remain of that storied crew, wandering this isle.
Feast in Valhalla, o warrior! They will join you soon!
A forest fell
A wall went up,
And Dublin rose from the rubble.
Some thousand souls
Sleep in silence,
Silence of the song-severed trees.
Dublin (city)[]
Bárid, my friend,
Flann Sinna's day will soon be upon us! I convinced him to invite you, you scurrilous Dane.
I knew you would not want to miss my singing ... oh, yes, and to curry favor with Flann himself.
I will shortly bring the invitation by my very hand.
– Ciara
Sichfrith,
You're another winter older, you mangy pup. One more year or maybe two and I'll consider letter you into my Viking gang.
Your father has betrayed his Norse heritage. His constant efforts to curry favor with Irishmen like Flann are an embarrassment to Vikings here and across the seas.
I hope you spit on him at sun's rise each day.
– Thorstein
Bárid, my love,
I hope and pray all is well.
Here in Caldarez, the waters flow down from the Pyrenees and are most soothing. Your mother's improvement is a blessed miracle. I think of you each day, each hour.
Have patience with Sichfrith. He has always been difficult, but I have hope that from his moods and outbursts a man of substance will emerge.
–Your loving wife, Sadhbh
My grandfather tells me that our precious mucky black pool is the reason Bárid's castle is where it is.
The old Vikings wanted to feel secure, and the pond itself was a form of defense. Anyone crossing it would get stuck in fetid mud.
He claims that the old Gaels called it Dubh Linn for Black Pool and that became the city's name.
I have left my life behind to devote my life to the glory of God.
But, Lord above, is this porridge is like warm slop.
I pray that I may sustain my faith in spite of the porridge made by Brother Ain which could pass for warm slop on a good day. Would that I could tell him, but my vow of silence prevents it, oh Lord.
Wherefore am I roomed in the attic? It is because the prior decrees so, so I am too fond of wine mulled with apples. But did not you provide us with apples and wine, Lord? Is it a sin to take what you have bountifully given?
These are the mysteries over which I must pray.
Thorstein, my dear,
We burnt down Brenn's stables a few nights ago. He willing to part with silver to make certain we don't do so again once he rebuilds.
Raiding fishing boats is not a good use of your men. They are dolts and cannot manage to bring the fish back fresh. Let us find better use of these fools.
On the other hand, the men have just enough brains to know the worth of a good trading post. Encourage raids on those as mush as you like.
– Ama
Azar,
My informants tell me that Konstantinos is on the move. I fear he plans to come visit you in Dublin.
Take care, my friend.
–Hytham
Azar, Old Man!
We have a happy Dublin. To keep it, we must stay in Flann's good graces.
He is planning for war against those kingdoms who resist his rule. How can we help him in this?
Let us trade for siege engines. If Flann must take to battle, there will always be a shortage of weaponry. He will be grateful if we can supply it.
–Bárid
Mo bennacht lasin scríbinn-se. Guidimm-se na-légai-siu frisin tenid, ⁊ guidimm-siu not-gora a thess amal bee-siu im brollach moíth fadéin. Is fota limm co gér tú, ⁊ is móa cech laithe in chuntabart in accar-sa Dublinn iarmothá.
Is Maith fom-chíallathar Sadb, cíasu éicen di coitsecht frim scéla scaílti. In-fédinn den laithe a ndom-rala fer fola forsin slige co Clúain Ferta ⁊ ran-íccas, co ndechud laiss-som co Lothlinn. Lánamnas íar sain, ⁊ don-ratad mac, tussu, gáethgarg, la londbruth loga.
Tar cend na imchéine ó Éirinn, ro-uccus i calad etir Gallaib. Gáedel mná, Sjae Korpmaka a ainm.
Íat so mo chuimnigi cáemthi. Fréna ár sceóil. Nos-cáemna-su.
Do márthair cháem,
Ségdae[note 8]
Thorstein,
When you tire of playing the buffoon in your precious Ireland, come north to the scattered isles.
I will grant you raiders and boats and a few acres to call home. You can loot the Hebrides to your black heart's content.
— Ketil Flatnose.
Meath[]
I scribble what I have heard, not what I have seen.
The Morrigan, she of three, each sister to each, came in Meath in form of bird and spoke to a young man.
She said.
"Forunate man! I have chosen thee. Come, breathe the mist, meet my children, druids all. Consort and frolic, o my boy!"
The young man walked in fog and lost his bearings, his mind and his life.
At long last! Months of effort have come to fruition. When I first discovered that the unusual fog left a residue, I suspected it could be put to use.
I have discovered that if I glean enough of the residue off large leaves and combine it with copious fish oils, I can create fuel for a lamp that burns as bight as dawning day.
One last trial – the brightest of all!
Ardgal
Son of Conall mac Néill
"Cremthainne"
Died 520, killed by his cousin,
Muirchertach mac Muiredaig
...To his son Conall, he gave two figurines as advised by the wise woman. They would be taken in turn by Niall's grandsons, Ardgal and Fergus, who were saved from their uncle's curse by the blessed Saint Patrick...
Foul bog, fetid bog,
What evil brews in you?
What ills, what rot,
What sour corruption
Springs from your dread depths?
Have my siblings sipped
From your stagnant streams?
Their eyes glow dark as your pitchy pools
As their love for the land withers.
Annagh Doo[]
The High King's inauguration draws near, at which point power will switch hands from the Northern Uí Néill to the South. You are to ensure Flann Sinna draws his last breath before that happens.
Disguise yourself as a priest and infiltrate the ceremony at Tara. This should get you close enough. Then cut the bastard's throat as they sing his praises.
Drumlish[]
Can't stay here no longer. Too many wolves. Be leaving the deed in Knockfree. I'm done with this.
Durrow[]
Brothers,
I apologize for the haste in my departure. Rest assured I will return in a few days time and we can continue our work at the cemetery.
In the meantime, I must ask you to dig through the graves in search of the key to the coffers. I've searched my robes and satchels and it may be that I dropped it while interring some of the dead.
It is important we retrieve it, however unholy the task may seem.
–Father Siomon
Beccán,
I think the others are on to us. Well, to me. I have hidden the chest in the pit. Think like I think, and I am sure you will find it.
As for the key, I am taking it with me. I expect them to follow, and that is all right. I will lose them at the docks and hide the key near the shipwright. Again, think like I think, and I am sure you will find it.
–Fínnel
King Flann,
Upon my return to Armagh I learned one of our monasteries has been sacked. The Book of Kells his purportedly in the hands of familiar Dane out of Dublin.
As the newly inaugurated High King, you have a responsibility to champion and protect the Christian faith. And so I call on you to help ensure the safe return of this text.
I am making my return to Durrow immediately. Together, I pray we can find some sort of resolution.
In addition, I feel I must bring to your attention that we have ceased receiving additional manuscripts after a group of bandits raided and killed the traders at Lisdurrow.
The start to your reign requires you to thwart evil from many angles. You must not fail.
Faith in God,
–Eogan, Abbot of Armagh
My king,
Please excuse the haste in which this letter is written, for it is not penned by my scribe's but by my own shaken hand. The pagans, these druids, I am beginning to believe we have underestimated their resolve.
While we attended to the rule of Ireland, they have crept and slithered into our domains unnoticed.
I feel we must convene on this matter. I await your reply.
–Cerball, King of Osraige
High King,
Your letter is rather disconcerting and reads like an accusation, one we vehemtly deny. Perhaps you should look within your own dirty linens for the ones behind this little incident.
And do bear in mind, if we were so inclined to see you to an early grave, we would not have failed.
My king,
I wish to extend to you my most sincere congratulations on your inauguration.
Your coronation was a feat. Lively and bereft of nothing. And your poetess has the voice of a nightingale, capable of stealing the attention of men in the middle of a bloody battle, I'd say.
Please accept the gift accompanying this letter. It is but a small token of our continued friendship.
Blessings to you and your family.
–Conchobar, King of Connacht
Inchroe[]
We took a good haul at Kells. Plenty of silver and gewgaws we can sell for a pretty price.
But what should we do with the book we found? Someone took a long time to make it fancy, but I can't make head nor tail of what's written.
Perhaps one of the crazed Christians will want it.
Knockfree[]
My king,
accompanying this letter are a dozen of Brega's most able-bodied men, all of whom are beneath the age of thirty. It is not much, but should none of them return, it is a loss I am prepared to suffer, especially after learning what your representative did for your people.
I am a fair and just king who repays his debts. You have Brega's loyalty and support.
Lisdurrow[]
I couldn't save any sacred texts, but I followed the bandits to Inchroe. There they took every scrap of writing – even the deed to the post!
Tara Hill[]
Flann Sinna is great,
He is powerful and kind,
He is a strong fighter and strong leader,
He will lead the people,
God loves him very much,
Mother loves him as well,
Father says he is not a worthy man,
I think father is jealous.
Ale from Athlone was meant to arrive hours ago and still we have received nothing. No letter advising tardiness. No carts we can see on the roads. It is all rather suspicious, but not surprising.
I have said loud and clear that we should have procured ale elsewhere. That trading post is no stranger to roving bandits, and it now seems likely they are the cause of this problem.
Luckily we still have a large supply of local ale, but it falls short of what the attendees might expect for the High King's coronation.
At the very least, we can hope enough of it is consumed so that none will notice.
My mother helped me fashion this harp when I was just a little girl. It was a toy. A pass time I grew out of. It was only after her death that I found the urge to dig it out from under the floorboards again.
Never did I think this poorly crafted instrument would make it this far. I should replace it with something better, but I refuse. My soul refuses. I am bound to it. To the strings, to the smell of the wood, which is the same today as it was the first day.
It will need to endure some fittings, however. This is a quiet harp that lacks an outstretched sound. I have been working on an apparatus that should allow the music to resonate widely.
From a child's trinket to a booming instrument, what a journey this little harp will have.
Uí Néill's Rest[]
When the Uí Néill are united
Niall's treasure will be revealed
River Berbha[]
Berbha Fortification[]
Will no one help rid us of these pagan heretics? Their presence is an affront to everything Godly and good.
Perhaps someone can remind these cloaked fools that the Romans wiped them out long ago..
Bone Hollow[]
Sister,
You must come visit! Erriff river is full of fish and the village boys are apple cheeked and very handsome! It might be a good place to find a husband. Heaven knows you’ve been though all the boys in Tinnahinch!
Fern Crest Farm[]
Norse causing a fuss in Mercia. Let them try that here and we'll give them a right beating!
Wicker Grove[]
Lugh. Son of Cian and Ethniu,
grandson of the tyrant Balor,
wielder of the spear and master of the horse.
Bless us this harvest with a yield to last until the days grow longer once more.
River Erriff[]
Erriff Farm[]
Deearest Sadhbh,
I hope this letter finds you well. Things in Ballymagowran are good. Uncle’s sheep had a lamb!
I’ve heard from merchants that druids have been seen near your village. Stay safe and don’t let anyone
get your hair. I’ve heard they can use it for spells.
Love to you and yours.
Orlaith
Glennacally Fortress[]
Allow NO ONE access to the crypts while Maser is there. Master is not to [sic] disturbed during the preparations. We’ve locked the door and two of us took the keys. Silence must be observed until Master finishes the ritual.
Stag’s End[]
Yellow flower picked from sacred ground.
Earth from the bed of a north-flowing river.
Hair of a fair-faced lass.
Rain water collected under the full moon.
Put into a pot and bury on their land.
Burn this paper and repeat your incantation 3 times.
Ulster[]
Master Scotus,
I understand this may be outside your philosophical scope, but could you ascertain the veracity of rumours regarding an Irish giant who is said to have built a bridge over the sea? I believe it is referred to as "The Giant's Causeway". His Majesty has a wager on it.
Roger Despierres,
I write this as the last of my grove.
For years, we tended the slaughter fields, bringing peace to the dead and dying. For many moons, I've worked alone and soon even that will end.
Added to my burden now are the cursed symbols left by some less forgiving sect to deny these tormented creatures their final rest.
If you find any of these toxic charms, destroy them and earn my blessing.
Thora -
I leave for the North to seek out the land beyond Snealand. I will follow Nannod's route and look for signs of the monks they call the "poppers".
Some say I'll find nothing, others say I'll find Bifrost. I need to see for myself.
Your heart's shield,
–Gyda
Fergus Cerrbel
Son of Conall mac Néill
"Cremthainne"
Died 480 defending his honor
Cormac Cáech
Son of Coirpre mac Néill
Died 495
His deeds will be remembered
... The fifth and final figure Niall gave to Lóegaire the Unrepentant, who passed it down to his son Lugaid, before he was struck down by the Bishop's curse...
Cillín,
My heart breaks writing your name.
Father remains deaf to my words, says I'll take no husband not from pictland and promised me to some dirty shepherd!
It's mad, I know! Weren't we all one people not so long ago?
Don't cross the water – much as I wish you would! My brothers watch the shore and they'll kill for it.
They can give me to another, but I will always be yours.
–Derelie
My mother came from the Old Lands, belly ripe with child. I was born in a bow of a boat, screaming Thor's name before I had words to speak. Many of our people came with more on the way. To Thorghest's kingdom, Dublin.
This is my home. I earn what I can and take what I need. I don't need to see great armies in distant Saxon lands – I've seen them sail from these shores! Why seek out a promised land when you'll find no greener place?
If ye go by yon Causeway, take care, a Giant dwells there.
Ignore its great cries. Do not tarry, do not stop, 'less you wish to join the dead!
Seán,
Many thanks for the offer but I can't never go back to Meath. Those like me what fought for Aed are too blood-stained for forgiveness. King Flann'll not forget that slaughter, nor can I blame him. The North and South will ever be at odds and there's no changing that. Least not by me.
I'll carry me crimes till the grave, but I'll not go seeking noose or axe.
–Your brother Brendan
Aileach[]
Lords of Aileach,
Rumors of unrest have come to our ears over the current transfer of power. Whispers of discontent always come with the changing winds. They are to be expected but not heeded.
When a new King rises, one must show some whip or risk rebellion. A simple reminder of how the balance weighs. Do not be concerned by reports of an invading army. It is meant to impress, not to usurp, and poses no danger to those loyal to the crown.
Our Savior's humble servant,
Flann Sinna, High King of Ireland
Lough Eske[]
Séamas committed no sin in being blessed with good fishing. But in our jealousy and arrogance, we defied the Commandments and helped ourselves to his wealth with blood-stained hands.
We'd barely hid the hoard when the Lord rewarded our foul deeds with fire and steel. The others are dead and I hang by a thread. Should anyone find the map, I pray the fortune it brings goes some way to make amends.
Malin Head[]
Do legends grow larger over time?
Stretched like yarn across the years?
Take this Finn-formed bridge before me:
Did it truly span the sea,
And support the son of Cumhaill
When he faced the beast
Benadonner?
Isle of Skye[]
We've barricaded the entrance to the mine. The riches we find here will be ours to keep - not to share with the fools in Hungladder who scoffed at us for pursuing this. We know the voice we heard.
In case any fools did make it this far, I can certainly get rid of them. Accidentally, of course. The fewer, the richer, after all.
Kiltaraglen has found itself under a curse. Lovers bicker. Old friends act as if they never met. What madness is behind this? Rather than find out, I'll hide away from it all. At least nature still provides solace. For now.
Remember when we were young? You were strong like the bear. I was weak like the deer.
I wish we could be young again. If only because you were still alive. Maybe your next path won't be cut short by me.
These seals keep coming. I can't remember the last time I slept. I can't let my guard down. I boarded up the windows but I know they're still watching me, hungrily.
Enough hiding. I will go out to the beach north of here and see what they want. As crazy as it sounds, maybe they just want tot talk.
Those horrifying monsters are incessant. it seems like every day there are even more of them.
I suspect they're trying to starve me out of here. I caught a gang of them taking my food supply hostage this morning. What do they want from me?
Consider this a warning. Stop pestering my soldiers to buy your worthless rock. Nobody wants it.
Brother's Cave[]
If you're reading this, you're too late! my brother and I have made off with the gold piece that so many are seeking.
Chances are, we've reached the village to sell it and are rolling in newfound wealth! Better luck next time!
Cave of Gold[]
That strange voice in my ear gets clearer and louder the closer we get. It would be maddening if it weren't promising great riches and wealth.
For now, though, I must open this door. Once I figure out these ancient mechanisms, the treasure will be at hand.
Dun Ardtreck[]
My back is sore from all the logs the chief has us pulling to build scaffolding for an excavation. He's convinced there's something shiny in those collapsed ruins. I'm not so sure. How rich could someone living in a shack on these cliffs really be? No way there's enough gold down there to drown for.
Excavation Site[]
We may have found something behind this damaged wall, but we are missing the explosives to bring it down.
A shipment of oil was due yesterday, but we have yet to see the merchant come from the southeast road in his run-down cart.
Fairy Glen[]
The contours of this island pulse with a commanding spirit. Weak with fasting and self-flagellation, I cannot find its source. But I am certain it is the spirit of the Nephilim. A certainty glows within my breast—it was they that authored the strange markings I came upon years ago. It is they that speak to me now! These are their words, let them burn in my soul!
Born in mud and excrement
Cleansed in cold waters
Wrapped in the shroud
Of coming death
Remember the pain
And despair that lie within
–Brendan of Clonfert
I feel a connection with the stones when my feet are above the ground.
I need to find a way to climb up higher.
I made a fascinating discovery today while resting on the makeshift shelf I assembled! I felt a strange resonance. A kind of power.
But still, it feels as though something is being hidden from me. Almost as if my eyes betray me.
This exploration is taking longer than I anticipated. I should have brought more water.
This doesn't feel quite right.
But I sense I am getting closer to uncovering whatever secrets these stones are hiding.
It's as if I can feel energy radiating from these stones. Amazing. Could uncovering their secrets be a matter of perspective?
I should search the area carefully.
Fairy Pools[]
To the lady of the house,
When the full moon rises again, we will celebrate our union as one with plenty of food and good company. Leave the fairies at the pools and come celebrate with us in Kiltaraglen.
Hungladder[]
The miners have not brought ore back from the mine in weeks, yet they're constantly working there. What could be going on?
I tried to investigate and was told to stay away. I caught a glimpse of miners sleeping on the ground, as if they fell unconscious out of exhaustion from working non-stop. Something strange is afoot.
So much smoke...
I would have thought burning a village would be easier than building one.
It had to be done. No one can find our discovery.
Must tie up all the loose ends.
Everyone is acting strange lately. Their patience ground down to nothing. Gudbrand was acting out of pure madness. He had to be killed.
There is something going on with the neighbors too. I heard screams coming from their home.
The other day I saw Ogmund get dragged inside. He never left.
My dread grows with each passing day.
Inverarish[]
The gold stone is what hurt you. It killed you. I didn't. I couldn't.
I must hide the shame.
And your body. Deep into the ground.
As for my soul, that will vanish deep into the woods.
Iron-Brew Mines[]
While mining for precious stones, we found water that grants us the vigor to mine night and day. We'll make a fortune selling it in Kiltaraglen.
Kiltaraglen[]
Amidst all this craziness, the bride's mother claims that the fairies told her how to solve all of our problems. Has she gone completely mad?
Eagle Bearer. Eagle Bearer. Eagle Bearer. Nonsensical words hissed at me in a dream. It must be the bringer of my nightmares. What else could it be?
Neist Point[]
My child, do you watch me from above? I've committed myself to ensuring your tragedy will never be repeated. After losing you, what more can I do to make my life mean something?
Tobhta[]
First, insert leg into seat bottom.
Twist to secure.
Repeat with the remaining legs.
Sit on finished stool.
Jötunheimr[]
Beware the pale-skins! Aesir spies are everywhere, and they move on soft feet. Kill them on sight. Report any sightings to your lord.
we are gathered here, out of the sight of gods and men and giants, to celebrate the union of Aesir and Jotnar. Though our people be at war—-
(scribbled out)
—-though our people don't always see eye to eye … mainly because we're so much taller! (pause for laughter)
(scribbled out)
Look, they just love each other, all right? Can't we all just get off their backs?
(scribbled out)
Who thought it was a good idea to let me write this?
(vulgar doodles)
Aegir’s Hall[]
Take warning, you who would walk the Iron Wood. Near the place where the root of the mother-tree reaches from the sky, I saw the shadow of a house fall across my path. The shadow of no house I could see.
There I heard sounds I wish to never hear again. Screams of such terror as to bring ice to my soul.
Do not pass that way. The Mistress is there.
That Aesir is more unhinged than Father's old barn door! Not that my sisters an I need much encouragement to have fun, but I fear we may have gone a little far last night. The Ale Sea! The Flying Cart! Our visitor has a trickster's tongue and a mind for mischief, and we were along for the ride.
I wonder if they could be persuaded to awhile?
Heart of the Iron Wood[]
How they scream when I work on them, the once’s that visit me. Cries no physical pain could ever evoke. If only I could console them: the white heat will cleanse you, the burning scour you clean. And what is left is purity.
What torture it is to see oneself stripped of illusion. To know your depths and heights, to know yourself squalid, insignificant, wretched.
The truth is hard to bear. But I will make them face it. They will all see in the end.
Serpent's Tree[]
It's very high up here. Mustn't be afraid. I've watched how the masters change shape, seen them turn into beasts. Won't they be amazed when they what I can do? Won't they celebrate when they see I'm like them?
I've learned the secret phrases. All I have to do is believe. The words give me wings. I'll fly back to my master as a bird.
Time to stop writing now. Time to do it.
It is very, very high, though.
This day we came upon a fascinating sight. Here of old did the gods of the Aesir rest on their return from our realm. In their wake were three of monstrous form, the spawn of Lokkju and She-Who-Tames-Tongues. A wyrm, a pup, and a child half dead. The wyrm, though young, was growing before their eyes, so the gods tied it to this tree as they slept. When morning came, they released it and went on their way.
Skyrmir's Mitten[]
Know now that this cauldron we have brought before you is our father Hymir's cauldron. The braggart Thor murdered him at sea and stole it from his hall. Afterwards, he gave it to the traitor Aegir, so that he might throw the Aesir a great feast.
For long ages Aegir has entertained the enemy in our land, making merry while our father lies cold in the ocean. But we have long awaited our moment, and that moment has come at last. Aegir the fool wagered away our father’s cauldron, and we his sons, have seized it!
Drink now, and raise your horns to our father. Drink now in his memory.
Skal!
Seems the chief got word someone was thinking of making off with that cauldron of his. Why else would her have locked it up? When I find out who told him, they'll be wearing a bloody necklace.
Still, it's just one lock. He thinks that thing's too big to move, but I know the trick of it. Just a matter of picking my moment.
Suttungr better be grateful when I bring it to him in Utgard. Grateful, and generous.
Thrym's House[]
The god of thunder is among us. The Jotnar-slayer has his hammer in hand. He came veiled and in wedding garb, and Thrym, blinded by lust believed him to be Freyja of the Aesir. When he threw off his veil seized Mjolnir, I ran.
I hear him killing now. I hear the cries of my brothers and sisters. I have locked myself in, but no lock will stand up to that hammer.
I cannot get out. He is coming. I cannot get out.
Útgarðar[]
So long I've waited, so long. Ever since I found where Gengnur hid his prize. Gengnur, the legend of the fighting pits who won the great tournament all those years ago, only to die of his wounds days later. No one ever found out what he did with his winnings. No one but me.
But if I'd have gone in there with a pickaxe, they'd all want a piece. So I bided my time till the old one died. Seven years I waited, till the earth took him and I could claim his house.
Soon I'll begin the digging. When the night is dark and the moon is cloaked by clouds. Won't be long.
Good things come to those who wait.
They are coming for me. I took it, and now they're coming. Didn't think they'd miss it. They had plenty.
I've been running for so long. I'm so tired of running. Can't run anymore.
Maybe I can talk to them. Maybe they'll listen to reason.
So I'm Suttungr's favored thrall, am I? First among slaves, that's what I am. What a great honor to be my master's chief builder! To work in the snow and ice till my fingers blacken!
Well, privilege has its upsides. I got close to the master's treasures, and I filched a key too. Just waiting till the moment is right. When I break free of this yoke, when I make my way to Asgard, I'll need something to trade for my passage to paridise.
Been working like some mangy thrall for longer than I can say, forging iron for our "great assault." Then when those hob-footed clods get themselves slaughtered by the Aesir they blame it on my armor! Well, I've done my part. Sharpen your own swords, boys. I've a skinful of mead to drink and a dozen after that.
All right, maggots! You think because you can swing an axe, that makes you a warrior? You think training with dummies makes you fit to face down a horde of Aesir? To me, you're still a squirming pile of mewling, milk-livered, wobble-arsed little boys fit only to blunt the spears of the enemy with your bodies.
Anyone want to prove otherwise, come face me at the top of the keep. Beat me and I'll consider your training done.
My strong brother in arms,
This is our time. The moment we have waited for. The one they call the Builder is ready. I have gathered our greatest warriors for the invasion. Strike at Asgard and strike true, and the walls will fall before us.
I know you do not trust me. You think I have lived among them too long. But my heart has always lain in Jotunheim.
Your friend,
(the rest of the letter has been torn off)
Enchanted Tower[]
My experiments have been a disaster so far. But I shall not surrender myself to failure. The future of Jotunheim is in my hands. I need Ymir's blood to progress further. But how to get it?
If I succeed in my task, this barren land might grow crops in abundance. No more children need starve, no more raiders go to war for things we lack. Think of it!
Jotunheim in bloom!
Finally! The experiment is a success. It was Ymir's blood I needed all along. But that is a rare resource and too valuable to spread about. How can I replicate this with simpler reagents?
Those drops of Ymir's blood were not mine to take, and those who owned it are hunting for me. I knew this day would come, but it has come sooner than I thought. I had hoped ... I had hoped I could show them.
They will not find this tower. I will leave and lead them away. Please, whoever finds this, use what blood remains. Continue my research. Bring flower to our land.
After all my labors, I have done it! If only I had been more patient, seen more clearly! Being forced to work without Ymir's blood was like throwing away a crutch. With my own feet, I have found the path and brought life to the land again!
But my time is drawing near. I sought to put all the realm to bloom, but these many years of hiding, fleeing from those I stole the blood from, have taken their toll. I will rest here and return to the earth to become part of my creation.
This small part of Jotunheim will be forever mine. I am satisfied with that.
Grotto[]
I sent Kala and Vindr away again. What persistent oafs they are, impervious to logic and sense. The more I dissuade them, the harder they try. As if I would let either of them paw at me, as they desire to. The very idea is not only repulsive, but boring. I have more important things to do than marry.
It is said that the Norns have spun all there is to spin, that our fates are fixed like patterns to a tapestry. But if the threads already exist, is it not possible to follow them? If I trace one, ten, a thousand, a million, surely I will find one that does not end in Ragnarök.
By such a thread will I touch the world beyond the void. By such a thread will I lead those who come after to that which will soon be lost.
I have heard a voice! No, a reply! I called, and he answered! But I must not get ahead of myself. It was a moment so fleeting, there is a possibility it was nothing more than the trickery of an overwrought mind.
I must eliminate this possibility. Repeat the procedure. Test, test, test.
But what if...?
The seidr is strong. The threads are holding. But who is at the other end?
It doesn't matter. Anyone. If this doom cannot be avoided, I will leave hope, as a squirrel buries nuts in hope of the thaw.
Someone will hear my words. Someone will. I must believe that.
Utgard's Vault[]
Before there was earth or sky, ther was the Ginnungagap. Muspelheim lay to one side, the realm of fire. Niflheim lay to the other, land of eternal ice. In between, only silence and the dark.
At last, frost and fire met, and in the hissing scalding mist, Ymir was born, father of the Jotnar. He was as vast as creation, and from the sweat of his armpits, giants were born.
At last the cow Audhumla was revealed from beneath the ice. Ymir fed from her udders as she fed from the salt of the frozen realm. As she licked, the ice melted, and Buri emerged: the first of the cursed Aesir.
Buri begat Bor, and Bor married Bestla of the Jotnar, and they had three children, named Odin, Vili, and Ve. These foul murderers turned on their progenitor and slew Ymir in his sleep, and began thereafter to rend him to pieces.
From Ymir's blood came the oceans. His skin and muscles became soil, and his hair the plants that grew there. The clouds are his brains, the sky his skull, held aloft by four dwarves.
The Aesir, being vain and desirous of inferiors to worship them, created the first humans, Ask and Embla, from two trees. Afraid of the wrath of the Jotnar, they build a fence aound Midgard to keep us out, and left them there to thrive, penned like chickens with the foxes at bay.
100 bores
300 cask Ale.
20 Deere
3 Bares
40 Oxn
1 Lettis (for helthy)
Enuf for feest???
First were the four towers of iron to capture and disperse the sun.
Second were the silver rings fashioned by Idunn to encircle the Nine Realms.
Third were Idunn's apples to amplify the hugr of all creatures.
Fourth was the seidr by which we spoke the first language of the Nine Realms.
Fifth was the armor we donned to guard our bodies against cosmic shocks.
Sixth were the vessels into which we sent our hugr.
Utgard's Keep[]
Listen up, vermin! I see you slacking off, slow to your posts, gabbing with your fellow snotrags instead of watching out! You think the Aesir are going to be content to lick their wounds after the bruising they just got? Wrong! Those moist little milquetoasts can't wait to stick a knife up your arse, and unless you shape up, they'll be all over this camp like the boils on your mother's face.
Anyone else I see pissing about on watch gets a kicking they won't forget.
Norway[]
Rygjafylke[]
I am gone and will not be back. That stain of a shipyard has spoiled my family's fishing routes, and now these warriors chase down our game like dogs. Every time they ask, "Do you support Kjotve or Styrbjorn?" I don't give a shit about one or the other. Varin is dead. I am going to join the hunt. I have too much to take with me. You can have whatever you find.
Deserted Chalet[]
King Harald is no lover of poetry! He desires only the puffed upper praised from lesser, mead-soaked skalds! He can banish me from his house, but he will not silence my saga of King Harald the Unfair—one that will be sung long after his bone feeds the earth. But first, we must hunt, Ymir and I, and at night when our bellies are full, the poetry will flow like mead.
Food is low. It will take more than honeyed words to lure meat into my pot, and I've yet to master the hunt. Ymir has been bred to this task but has had no better luck. Or he sneaks out while I sleep to sate his appetite in secret. Has he turned on me too? Do the gods toy with me? Like an overfed cat, worrying a rat?
The wolves that took Ymir have come for me. The lice-ridden curs got past my traps and I hear them at the door. I cannot remember when I last ate, but the blood-rage gives me strength, and soon I will drink theirs. I will take as many of the beasts down with me and ride to Valhalla on their howls of despair.
Ymir was out at night, but not to feed. Defending us against the darkness as I slept. I buried his remains in the moonlight while his killers howled their dire death-song. The intrigues of Harald's court are a fading memory. Ymir was a good dog and a loyal companion. I am alone, but rage burns with a cold heart.
Fannaraki Summit[]
The old gods are dead,
Our gods will die too.
After the last death song is sung.
Ymir's bones still reach to the sky.
Fornburg[]
Sister -
No woman can live without a man and call herself married. You have honored the family with this union but live without reward or comfort.
If your husband seeks his happiness at sea, look to your own at home. If your days are long and cold, you can find some other willing man—or woman—to warm your bed.
-Thora
King Styrbjorn -
My nephew and I agree Raven Clan's reputation alone is enough to support your claim. If Norway is to grow and thrive, old grievances must be buried. I have some ideas to share on that, and you are always welcome at my hall.
-Guthorm
For nine long nights and pain-filled days,
the All-Father hung from the tree.
In the end, pierced by a spear,
he became his own first sacrifice.
Stavanger[]
Do not hide hoard in just one house.
Remember last summer.
Kjotve will settle any losses with blood.
–Rikiwulf
I cannot sleep because of the digging below us. Like rats gnawing at my peace of mind. What do the expect to find down there? They'll feel the sharp end of my axe if it goes on much longer.
Sneafrid Halvardottir -
I am writing for my brother who cannot.
He would take you as his wife but does not know the words. He asked me to ask you.
He will make a good husband. He is strong and will own father's farm when the old man is dead. He has also gone on a few raids and has some silver put aside.
Send me an answer, and I will tell him what it is.
-Atle Grjotgardson, brother to Thord Grjotgardson
Sneafrid Halvardottir -
I am glad to hear it. You are too good for Thord, and I burned with envy when he told me his plan. I will plough your field and do any othe work that needs doing.
Come with me to Greenland where my brother cannot bother us. Leave your answer at Torghatten Rock so he does not learn our plan.
-Atle Grjotgardson, brother to Thord Grjotgardson
Your Grace,
Once again, let me express my thanks for the faith you have shown in me. After many grueling, humiliating months, I rejoice to inform you that my labors have borne fruit.
It has taken the patience of a saint to endure the many, many ignominies in order to gain the heathens' trust. What sustained me through the burning shame was the thought that I would be instrumental in the downfall of these filty barbarians. Now more than ever, I believe that an understanding of their pagan rites will be key to their eradication.
This night, they will bring me to their sacred site and show me the ritual of the "blood eagle," which I will describe in detail upon my return.
(only available in Discovery Tour: Viking Age)
Oathbreaker, thief, liar, traitor!Hordafylke[]
Helskip[]
They all blame me, but what could we do? Stay out there and get smashed against the rocks? We may be trapped but we live.
They watch me. Looking for hope even as their hate burns hot in this damp prison.
It is too hard to see in these storm-stirred waters.
Ulriken Peak[]
Was Ymir the only of his kind? Were there other Great Giants before? And if there were, did they give birth to the world like our own? Other realms with other men? Other gods?
Svartálfaheimr[]
Sons of Ivaldi? Sons of Idiots is more apt. I have risked my life for you time and again, and the one time I ask for your aid, you leave me out to dry. What the Hel is going on up there?!
The Muspels have taken my cousin, Tyra. I cannot state it more plainly just how dangerous her situation is. Poor bint doesn’t even speak the common tongue.
Send help. Right now, you utter bastards. I just need to know if she’s working in the foundry, rotting in the holding cells, or up at that forsaken dig site.
I beg you.
I hope this finds you well, miner. Our numbers have never been fewer, nor have we ever needed your observations more. Which is why it pains me to say this will be our final correspondence.
Something has caught the Muspels' eye in Uldar, or close by. They flock to the city, following Glod.
If our sources are correct, a dwarf has defected. Watch your back.
Good luck. And forgive me.
– G
Uncle Chanfotgr brought me a nice toy from Jotunheim and showed me the teeth from an ice giant that he slew with his bare hands!
He was away for such a long time that we feared the ice giants must have surely eaten him.
He's invited all of us to his house tonight. I'm sure he has so many stories to tell us about how he beat up those giants. I'm so excited!
Dear gourmands!
Come and enjoy yourself in my tavern.
The best mead & ale in Eitri awaits you. The first jug is on the house.
The famous chef 'Lardfinger' will cook for you as if you are lords of Asgard!
To all bar staff,
The following debtors must clear their tabs before they can drink on credit again:
Oglehr
Vesall
Oglehr (in case you missed the first mention)
Reihi
Oglehr (did I mention him already?!!)
Sindri's drinks remain on the house in perpetuity.
Brokkr remains banned because he's an embarrassment to us all.
The finalists:
-Sindri (can he make it 103 years in a row?)
-Vesall (always a good sport)
-Reihi (runner-up for the past 73 years, but can he go one better?)
-Chanfotgr (probably out of practice after all that time in Jotunheim)
-Oglehr (but only if he pays off his tab!!!)
-Grooni (64 years since he made it past the first round!)
-Goomforghr (the dark horse after a good showing last time around)
-Twigr (first time qualifying—let's see how she does)
As is the tradition, Brokkr is disqualified before the event begins because he's an idiot with no mates.
Dear Sir,
Your establishment is a disgrace!
For my daughter's wedding, I ordered 200 barrels of your premium ale. Only to discover that 48 of the barrels had gone rancid. I had to limit my guests to a mere three barrels each!
As a result, I demand a full refund and fifty complimentary bottles of your extra-extra-sweet and triple-fortified mead.
Yours,
Scrimrigr
A love poetry letter influenced by drinking of the special mead created by Fjalar and Galar (mead of Poetry)
(the notes start in mid-sentence) ...but the Jotnar scholars were quite adamant that the Tower must be built here in Eitri.
Construction began soon after, making use of the local workforce.
Hyrrokin made several visits... I suspect without the full knowledge of Suttungr nor Gunlodr. On these occasions, she provided us with clear guidance on how... (the notes end in mid-sentence)
The other day, I met a trader, name of Ukdraekr. Strange old fellow.
Said he'd been to Muspelheim. Talked about how those Muspels are followed by pools of stinking fire-sludge wherever they go.
Just so long as they stay in Muspelheim, the bastards can do whatever they want. So say I!
- Baldr's fall
- Surtr's sword cuts the sky
- Enemies of Asgard rally themselves
- Lif & Lifthrasir take shelter in a great tree
- The battle that ends time commences; Odin dies
- Giant wolves devour the sun and moon
- The Nine Realms crumble and sink into the sea
- The world reborn?
- Lif & Lifthrasir emerge and repopulate the world?
- Baldr resurrected?
Beloved comrades,
To those of you who seek shelter from the invaders, come join us!
You will find sanctuary in the hall where we once counted our treasure.
The Sons of Ivaldi
Stop using the ziplines for racing!!!
Hangrir was the fastest yesterday—five beats of a resting heart. Impressive.
Brarduli was second with six and a half beats.
Thorndad was third. A sluggish nine beats.
And Gormligr failed to finish. Quite a fall that. Hope his busted leg mends proper. Oh well!
And so it begins, as I knew it must.
The crimson lights pierce the sky. The roots of Yggdrasil, around which all else exists, have started to smolder.
Only the arrival of the Great White Raven can change this fate. Only he can save us from the final twilight.
One door opens when Sol blazes her path across the sky, the other when her pale brother peeks out from the darkness that follows.
Dear mother,
Forgive me, but I've decided to leave Svartalfheim.
This is not life. This is agony. So, I am running away tonight, heading straight for the Asgardian Gate.
I'll send instructions to you on how to escape once I've made it through. In the meantime, pray for me.
Your ever-loving son,
Glamnic
P.S. I've left you my precious gemstone, hidden on the second floor of the warehouse.
I've been following this fire-spewing fool for many winters.
At last he has resurfaced in this forsaken realm.
But why send me this cryptic challenge and a pledge to fight to the death? Has he finally built up the courage or has he gone totally mad!?
No matter, I will face him, and I will FINISH HIM!
What has this war done to me?! It robbed me of everything, all my wealth, my glory!
I feel it has come for my mind now, as it has gifted me with... nightmares.
Or are these horrors yet to come? Are they visions of a time not yet passed? All this hatred, this destruction? How much worse can it get? And why me...?
No, no! I must flee from these lands. I must go, I need nothing more, I cannot stay here anymore...
Maybe... the east? Yes, there I will find shelter and finally be away from this terror.
M.
To whoever finds this:
If the bird is not around, use the rope I made from my beard to climb down.
It won't get you all the way, but there's a pile of ash further down. You'll be able to use that to cushion the fall!
Also, the bird was as stupid as it was strong. It was able to lift my horse and cart, but it couldn't find me for weeks!
I have explored our lands far and wide, documenting many ancient structures.
Yet this place baffles me above all others and its exact purpose remains elusive.
It seems to have been abandoned long ago. Though now that the Muspels have taken over, I fear I shall never have the chance to unlock its secrets.
In this small corner, where once tall structures lie in ruin atop a circular floor, I have discovered something unique! A stone tablet, which I intend to restore, telling a story I know will give hope to every dwarf in these dire times... For even legends fade in time.
Captains Moghot, Taka, and Heita:
You are all aware that the enemy is afoot.
He intends to free his son, Baldr. To achieve this, he may attempt to seize the crusty old relic that is currently in our possession. THIS MUST NOT HAPPEN.
If it does, I will hold all three of you accountable. Painfully so.
Understand this.
Glod
Beloved comrades,
To those of you who seek shelter from the invaders, come join us!
You will find sanctuary where we once gathered great knowledge of the earth and all it holds.
The Sons of Ivaldi
I've done my part and shrouded wisdom from plain sight. The invaders will never find it!
But for he who looks, it will be transparent to see... One is not like the others!
Then shall he know that true knowledge lies beyond the bookshelf.
Our research suggests that the combination of light beams and silica devices could improve the silica charging process.
There are even rumors about experiments with light beams affecting the silica crystals' size.
But there remains the matter of that third component, which I do not yet understand.
I am not sure what it is, and I now fear it is nowhere to be found in our lands. Or at least not anymore.
Our lands are being invaded!
It's just a matter of time before they arrive here. We must hasten our retreat and protect our research findings!
Take all that is important and move it to the shelters. If you cannot, make sure it is hidden safely until the day we can return.
Nothing should fall into their hands!
RECENT FINDINGS
Digging around the ruins has led me to believe that the people in this place were attempting some kind of manipulation of silica crystals.
But what led to their destruction I wonder?
FURTHER ANALYSIS
The distance of the reflectors is affecting the growth of the silica crystals.
If I manage to position the beams correctly, I expect the results to blow through the roof.
FINALLY!!!
I managed to double the size of a silica pebble yesterday.
It took me six sleepless weeks, but I finally did it!
'Mad Muuri' they called me! We'll see who is mad when I start with the large crystals today.
Who else could possess the power to hold aloft the corners of the heavenly dome?
Who could be more powerful or worthy than Austri, Vestri, Nordri, and Sudri?
Those mighty heroes hold up the sky, created by the skull of Ymir, as evidence of their colossal strength.
Your Majesty,
The dam crew showed up at our village today and told us we've got to evacuate since they'll be releasing the waters in the coming days.
We couldn't reason with them, so now we are at your mercy.
Our whole lives are here and we are being asked to just leave everything behind!
They called us idiots for building the village in front of the dam wall, but we can't just move everything out of the way.
So I beg of you, Your Majesty, to find it in your heart... (the rest is smudged)
Dear Loinn,
I am bedridden and I don’t have much time left.
The house needs a he-dwarf in charge, so I beseech you to come back home.
I will not leave you empty-handed. My entire wealth is here for you should you accept my request.
Your father,
Thufr
The land he governed was vast, the power in his hammer immense. Here stands the throne of King Motsognir, ruler of all the dwarves.
To all those who venture forth, let them be cursed.
This place should never be disturbed!
We first saw them in the distance, standing atop their flying rocks. Now, they have arrived upon the hill. The ground bleeds with fiery sludge wherever they step.
Soon, I fear, they will rush across the bridge. Against such fiends we have no hope!
I pray only for a quick death rather than a life of everlasting servitude.
Here I will tell you about the intricacies of forging an iron boar.
It's a complex process and... thirsty work! In fact, the mere idea of it gives me a headache.
So, let me get some mead and a bowl of acorns to help soothe my mind. And then I shall begin in earnest...
This house is haunted!
The voices are driving us mad!
We can't stay here anymore. And after we've left, hopefully the place is sealed for good.
The curse is a hoax! Nothing but fairy tales!
Hreidmar's armor and treasure will be mine.
Steal it for me when the Muspels are off-guard.
– Riekr
The curse is real!
It's been a massacre down here! This will be our grave! I have to get out!
Don't be afraid to jump into the darkness.
Sugar mixture:
Combine brown sugar and water. Boil gentle, stir often!
Stir the butter, salt, vinegar and ¼ of the cream. Set aside. Cool. Stir in the rum extract.
Topping:
Take a bowl. Combine 2 tablespoons of the sugar mixture and the rest of the cream. Beat it hard! It must thickened.
Fill 1/4 of a mug with the sugar mixture, 1/4 with cream soda, stir. Add more cream soda. Spoon the topping on top.
While all mead contains honey, what makes our Special Mead unique is the TYPE of honey.
It comes from the Hugr Bloom, which is the active ingredient in making the mead so rich and sweet, along with providing it with its famed healing properties.
Remember that when you are next out and about harvesting Blooms!
Not quite there yet... but turn your back!
There must be another way!
They are small and pretty,
And smells so sweetie.
If you see them you are on the right track,
They surely the entrance mark!
We've heard about the Muspel/Jotun invasion and we are abandoning the dig site.
Dearest Svass,
I need to know that your love for me is as real as mine is for you.
To this end, I will seek you out tomorrow, no matter the risks.
Yours eternally,
Vaskr
My genius knows no bounds!
I have discovered a new way to polish silica stones into lenses, allowing me to greatly enhance my vision.
Now, the stars seem so close. It's as if I can reach out and touch them!
I must start charting their stellar paths right away. Oh what secrets will they show us!?
I just hope Cygnus and the other cats don't knock over the lenses and break them as they are very difficult to make.
Master Grivaldi,
Our appraisers have examined the sample you provided.
Their findings are far from what you promised... These stones are fake—and you know it!
The authorities have been alerted and I sincerely hope they punish you most severely for this pathetic attempt at a scam. Indeed, that is probably them kicking in your door even as you read this letter!
Good day,
Novromgr
Chief Assistant, Eitri Treasury
10 slices of dried Angel for Old Broonie to help with her insomnia.
5 sachets of Purple Russula powder for Alfolmuli to stiffen him where it matters and to make his young bride happy.
10 drops of Fly Agaric extract for Hammerghr's wastrel son to alleviate his idiocy.
Tonic water from Winter Chantrelle for Master Douracr to help with the endless farting.
Our Archive keeps the knowledge of so many herbs, ingredients, and processes for making incredible brews for any purpose.
Joy, healing, ceremonies... we must find a strategy for passing our knowledge across generations of young archivists.
Copy every scroll and recipe!
Didn't think any dwarf would be stupid enough to hide their treasure behind a waterfall.
I was wrong.
Haha! Finders keepers!
Dear (Former) Customers,
As you can see, the tavern is closed. Forever.
As some of you know, Glod recently visited my establishment. Fool that I was, I tried to flatter him. Said he had the grace of a cat. And in response? He burned down part of the tavern and forced me to crawl naked through the streets. Even made me purr and meow as I did it!
So, if you value your livelihood and dignity, remember—NEVER pay Glod a compliment.
Mjodghr, (Former) Tavern Keeper
Dear Mother,
I know there's talk of an invasion but I really can't delay my plans!
This year's Hildar Leikr is a huge opportunity. I mean, I'll be a judge alongside the great Davnavarrghr!!
And to think our humble little tattoo parlor almost went under not so long ago!
So wish me luck. And don't worry about the giants. They wouldn't dare invade Svartalfheim.
Your ever-loving son,
Duneyrr
Don't touch the body!
Bogr killed the giant by accident! Which means we must abort the entire mission until the situation calms down.
We need to cover up the death. We're sending a crew out to do that. Until then, hold back from any further action!
Killighr, on behalf of the Sons of Ivaldi
P.S. Necho and Batso should already be there to guard the house.
To all who value riches above all else,
These are my final words of regret, for I have spent all my life counting shiny coins and baubles, and have clasped them close to my heart where my children should have been.
I have mined for precious stones and metals until my palms bled. Yet I have hardly spent a minute at home watching my daughters grow up.
In this mine, where I have blindly rushed to hide my valuables, I shall find no peace. Trapped not by the lava, but throttled by the thought that I will never see my girls again. I will die not knowing if they kept living...
Dangr,
Order some new Emitters for the Archive! The old ones are starting to fail and soon we won't be able to enter the rooms.
We must evacuate all scrolls or else.. I don't want to think about this!
Check with the Tower warehouse close to the Vault.
I should not call other researchers stupid.
I should not call other researchers stupid.
I should not call other researchers stupid.
I should not call other researchers stupid.
I should not call other resear
The day that first floating rock emerged was filled with dark omens.
Its core glowed as if the sun itself had been thrust inside. It threatened to plunge out of the sky and consume the land with its fiery ashes.
None of us expected what came next, but we all felt that looming sense of dread...
Let's gather to drink one last time before war knocks on our door!
Here we stay, seven eternal friends, hidden in this cellar.
May our glasses never dry, the beer never spoil, and this Muspel menace never come.
Signed -
Katyilli The Silver Lynx
Asenghr The Historian
Mihailr The Sunny
Yasengr The Bear
Iliyalli The Brother
Kalingr The Taken
Antonhr The Challenger
Indeed, those miners' earliest houses were built using leftover materials from the mine.
Yet by the time the gold was exhausted, they had become so rich that they were able to buy the land, and then founded a second mine on the left hill of the valley.
Soon after, the miners built themselves new houses located within the old mine and its huge cavern. This was the beginning of what would become known as the Old City.
Track down all rebellious dwarves, take down their houses, burn their everything.
This is what happens to all who opposes me.
Throw a coin for good luck!
May all Muspels drown in their own steam!
[Some stories from the grounds of the city.] [citation needed]
[Part of the Legend of the original Sons of Ivaldi.] [citation needed]
Meanwhile, the digging of the foundations began on the last day of the month, so it is now safe to announce that the erection of the statues of the four World Holders has officially commenced.
King Hreidmar will be pleased to see his vision coming to fruition.
Beloved comrades,
To those of you who seek shelter from the invaders, come join us!
You will find sanctuary where the mighty roots force their way into the depths, and where the head is lowered but the crown is strong.
The Sons of Ivaldi
Should someone ever find this, let it be known that dwarves are not cowards.
These blasted Muspels came on their flying rocks, scalding our land with their magma. But still they must answer to me. And those like me.
I will die laughing if I can take just one of the bastards with me.
Yours fervently,
Banin
Enough with the stealing!
We are putting not ONE, but TWO locks on the chest!!!
Banin and Dhurbar will each carry one of the keys.
A few of us have managed to escape from Eitri.
We almost got caught, but somehow forced ourselves to climb over the crumbling outer walls. Though not all of us survived that ordeal.
From there, we made it into the forest, before finally arriving at Yrkjandi Mylna.
Some have continued towards a rumored shelter under the control of a group calling themselves the Sons of Ivaldi.
I, however, will stay here to guide other refugees from the capital to safety.
Dwarfs have made one of their mines into a trap to catch Jotuns and extract their gear & loot for resources. Rats don't leave any bodies intact. Gear & loot is being transported to the nearest safehouse on a regular schedule.
To all those who believe that we, the dwarves, emerged as maggots from Ymir's body...
Look around and observe our glory—and know it was the pure veins of Ymir that gave us our life instead!
For how can a maggot possess the skill to sculpt the stone, or subdue the metal under the blow of its hammer?
Dear Sir,
I have a special order for you.
I want you to make my beloved wife, Gurlinghr, the most wondrous of hammers! The handle to be encrusted with gems, the head engraved with gold. Price isn't an issue.
I await your reply.
Gustr
With my arm broke, I ain't no use to the giants, so they've left me here to die. Aren't even bothered to execute me like the others in the Pit.
Svartalfheim has fallen. We are lost.
60 Swords
200 Arrows
40 Helmets
This is how long the condemned ones lasted:
Berlingr – half day
Darriffi – quarter day
Gridr – three days!!! (tough nut that one)
Kilikr – died instantly (haha to anyone who bet on him!)
Herigr – quarter day
Collect your winnings from Mulagr.
The giants have destroyed the workshop and the storage house!
Now they're heading towards the archives, which hold all the intricacies of light-bending and creation.
If you are a dwarf, know that we died bravely protecting our methods and inventions. If you are a giant, I curse you to Helheim!
I feel great sorrow that my workers paid the heaviest prize. I can still hear their screams in my mind. The lack of intelligence in those ruthless ice giants will be their downfall. I die knowing they will never be able to get their hands on my methods and knowledge.
[Parts of Dwarven Legends pt. 1.] [citation needed]
To reiterate, NONE of the light beams should be used if just one of them has been reported as being unsound.
Distorted beams must be replaced immediately. Luckily, there is no need to wait for an artificer.
Instead, the design has been arranged to allow for easy replacement. All you have to do is unfasten the malfunctioning head and replace it with a new sphere.
[Parts of Dwarven Legends pt. 2.] [citation needed]
I never regretted anything until the day when the Muspels attacked us and I ran away, leaving my brothers to their doom.
It is too much to bear! I can still hear their cries of agony.
This burden is too much for me... Time to end it.
INGREDIENTS:
Three gulps of a berserker's cowardice
The still-beating heart of a long-dead draugr
Eight moist tears from a flame
Two buckets of an ice giant's sweat in midwinter
Five deafening screams of absolute silence
Twelve armpits of a worm
DETAILED INSTRUCTIONS (must be followed with great care and no deviation):
Mix them all together.
Filled with desire for the necklace, Freya demanded that we give it to her as best we could. Hardening ourselves, we did so with great pleasure all around.
An ancient and highly mysterious relic that holds immense arcane power. Fuelled by the hugrs of many worthy victims, the Salakar is capable of acts of divine creation, or of absolute devastation.
We've received word from the south... Eitri has fallen!
This was a swifter defeat than any of us could have predicted. Therefore, we must now act in haste:
Take to the basement and the tunnels, and save yourselves however you can! If you have the chance to take any valuables with you, do so and hide them.
I will head to the grand cave corridor and collapse the way to the Stór Mylna!
Now hurry brothers and sisters!
And good luck!
My Comrades!
We now have the means to place-jump using Jotnar portal magic!!!
While trying it out, I managed to grab some weapons, which will be handy when we make our escape. I even found some nice loot in the neighboring cell.
Having used the portal a few times, I can see my bones through my skin and I'm feeling a little drained... But I'm sure I'll be fine.
– Blinkin
The Moonlight Brew must be boiled during the next full moon.
Prayers against rain should start now! We have so many young couples who rely on our brew to conceive a child! We must not disappoint them!
Run to the Brewery Archives, Dulim!!! We got a letter from Noldreth!
The bloody fool is sabotaging the secret library to protect the book.
You must grab the book before the invaders reach it! Bring it here. Here is safe!
Now go!
Brokkr
ENRICHING SILICA PROCESSING AT THE THIRD TRIAL SITE
The new silica-enriching devices we've been testing in Dimm Mylna have proven to be far more efficient. The final results show thrice more energy is being stored than before!
I'm sending the plans with the improvements that we implemented so that you can analyze them and start preparing the technical drawings for the builders.
Our Lord Surtr showed the Æsir mercy, sparing the idiot's life.
And with this second chance, we all know what violence has been wrought upon our brothers and sisters. Honorable soldiers of Muspelheim, reduced to ash. The gratitude on display is exactly what we would expect of such a coward, too afraid to seek another audience with Surtr. Pathetic.
See to it that Havi suffers, greatly, before you take that ugly fleshy head as your prize.
The Deceiver of Asgard has seen fit to set foot within Svartalfheim.
Lord Surtr would look upon you favorably, were you to present him with the Æsir's corpse. Or enough of it to confirm the kill.
Do not disappoint us.
The self-proclaimed Lord of the Nine Realms has been sighted not far from here. An astoundingly bold move, but unsurprising, given the unrivalled idiocy of the Æsir people as a whole, as exemplified by the actions of their figurehead.
I have no reason to believe my scouts are lying to me about this. Therefore, I have no reason as to why you still draw breath.
Thus you face a choice. Seek out and put a preferably grisly end to the Æsir. Or I will do the same to you.
Heljebor,
The Lord of Asgard lives. Your brother does not. Make it right. Or do not come home.
Your orders are clear. Asgard's ruler committed an act of war. Several, in fact. The only response is death.
Suttungr lives, but needs more time to heal. His injuries are one matter. But the betrayal of Hyrrokin, and Havi's... manipulation of Gunlodr. I fear those wounds may never heal, for our king, and for our people.
Get it done.
From what we have heard, Angrboda could have easily murdered Havi and saved us the bother. Why she chose not to is a mystery I'll never understand. Probably some horseshit about prophecy. Who knows.
Kill the Æsir. Crimes against Jotunheim cannot go unpunished.
Loud let the metals clang!
Hammer on iron!
Hammer on steel!
Hammer on brass!
Hammer on gold!
Hammer on stone!
Let them sing of their exaltation!
Let them hum and glitter and shriek!
Compelled into shapes that are lasting!
This mine was the third shaft founded in the City of Uldar, exactly five decades after the founding of the Great Silver Mine.
Its veins were the richest of all, rumored to surpass even those of the Old City.
It was later repurposed as The Smelting Foundry.
To all overseers:
The Eitri Tower requires more silica. Much more.
Without it, we'll never get Hyrrokin's failed project working the way we need it to.
So crack the whip!
– General Havakr
My Brother,
We ordered 200 crates of raw silica and yet you send scarcely a tenth of that!
You know Surtr is relentless when it comes to having silica available for his special project.
I fear what he will do to me if I don't deliver, so please send me the rest of the shipment, brother!
Yours,
Vehotr
Let Surtr drown in the tears of our people!
– The Sons of Ivaldi
Comе rest here, weary traveler!
Take a sip from this spring and know that Motsognir, the first dwarf, appeared in this world right here, from the flesh of Ymir.
When the last blow of the hammer subsides
And the difficulties of the day are about to wreck you
In the silence of Motsognir’s mound, you may find the light
That will reignite the will for life inside you.
Brothers and Sisters,
Have we abandoned this dead drop?
I've come here several times in the past month, but my previous notes remain untouched.
If someone reads this, know that it will be my last entry here.
I will try to find you, brothers and sisters, once more!
In the meantime... be safe!
No further Diggings are allowed in the area due to the danger of Landslide.
Main Engineer Iri
This palace was built by Hreidmar, beloved king, as a testament to the resolute will and unsurpassed wisdom of all dwarfkind.
Captain Storvidr,
There have been further sightings of the mysterious winged being from before.
It's a female alright. Big and beautiful, so they say. I've heard whispers that she's a chooser of the slain. But seriously? A Valkyrie in Svartalfheim!!! Everyone knows we dwarves aren't permitted into Valhalla... Perhaps the All-Father grows desperate in these dark times?
Anyway, keep your eyes open. Whoever she is, we must get to the bottom of it.
Sincerely,
Colonel Skegg
I warned Fachan to stop with his attempts to shapeshift into a bird. He didn’t listen and now lies dead beneath the rocks.
My orders are as follows: NO ONE is allowed to pursue this flying.
The Muspels are coming! Go, wife and hide yourself in the cellar. Hide and wait for me to come. It will not take long...
Here lurks an enshrined root of Yggdrasil, that most ancient of trees, and the nurturer of all things.
Turns out this was a pretty stupid idea.
I thought I was so clever hiding up here and spying on the Muspels. Never reckoned on them flooding the structure's base with their fire sludge. Now I either stay put or climb down and get burnt alive. Terrific.
Might as well remain here for now. I've got water enough to last a few days. Hopefully the giants move on and take their magma with them. Maybe then I can make my escape...
Sinmara's acolyte has come from Eitri to check on the creation of the charged silica.
He insists that we must over-stimulate the devices to create even more silica for Surtr.
Apparently, that big tower of theirs requires an endless supply of the stuff in order to become fully functional.
My most darling Calder,
Further to our discussion, we must accept the possibility that The Enemy will stumble upon the evidence sooner or later. After all, he is not without his talents.
In which case, we must view this as an opportunity to heighten his sorrow to unbearable limits.
Let's arrange the evidence in some heartwarming pose. It should be done in such a manner that when The Enemy discovers it, he believes, albeit briefly, that he has indeed saved the day.
Thus, when the reality hits him, his anguish will be all the more delightful.
Yours lovingly,
Sinmara
Surely Surtr's power is now undeniable to all?
I heard how the High One dared to strike him dead. Yet moments later, our lord rejected Hel herself. Up he rose on his two feet, towering over the hapless Havi.
In the fight that followed, the little Æsir stood no chance. In the end, using the deathly mewing of his woman as a distraction, the one-eyed coward fled for his life!
To Suttungr, most honorable of masters:
I still hunt the traitors. Rest assured though, I will find them.
Yet as I carry out this duty, I have uncovered rumors that leave me troubled. Specifically, I fear Surtr's ultimate plans, which remain unknown to us.
He has already wiped out the Light Elves of Alfheim, and now shows no mercy to the Dark Elves of Svartalfheim. Soon there will be no dwarves left!
And what then? Who will he turn on next? The humans of Midgard? The Æsir? Us?
I believe now is the time for an unlikely alliance... Your old enemy prowls this realm. He is mad and wicked, and must pay for his crimes against you.
Yet in the meantime, I suggest we reach out to him (the letter finishes here, mid-sentence)
Such a small village, yet so fine is life...
Here is the place to look for a wife!
The food is delicious, the drinks are exquisite,
This hamlet of traders is awaiting your visit!
But don't even think of stealing our Sunstone,
Or we'll strip your flesh right off the bone!
(the page begins in mid-sentence) ...the creator of this failed solution, I am intrigued to understand how Surtr intends to bend it to his advantage.
For this reason, I must find a way into the crater... But it will not be easy.
Day 19
I could not get as close as I hoped. Indeed, after being spotted, I was fortunate to escape with my life... The Chosen still hunt me.
Still, it seems Surtr is close to powering the first of the Towers. But to what end?
Day 20
Last night, I had a terrible vision... Surtr tried to twist my shields into weapons against all the Nine Realms!
Day 25... I think. But it seems longer... Oh, pull yourself together, Hyrrokin! You have spent too long hiding in this cave and your mind begins to rot!
Tomorrow, when it is dark, I must slip back into Eitri. Hopefully this time I can get closer to the Tower.
Brother!
I ain't happy with you.
What you said the other day about Mjölnir? Three times that gadfly bit me. THREE! And I didn't so much as blink an eye. Well, not until it stung me in the eye. And even then I hardly blinked.
Doubt you could've done better. And besides, talk about ancient history!!! You snide stuck-up shit. Taking all the glory, while I toil away to make you look good.
You know, one day I might not be around—and then you'll be sorry. That'll teach you!
– Brokkr
Beloved Sinmara, mistress of my heart!
I have given great thought to our conversation, and I believe there are several candidates to consider...
Hyrrokin has been spotted in Svartalfheim, no doubt fleeing from Suttungr's cutthroats. Her hugr would be most delicious. I suggest you send your Chosen to hunt her down.
Speaking of Suttungr, I have heard rumors that his Outriders are lurking in the lonely places. Their leader, a certain Riekr, may be of interest to us... Her hugr is quite potent, I am sure.
Finally, there are whispers of a Jotun more powerful than either of these. You know the one. "The right hand of Suttungr". Still, pursuing her will be a most dangerous sport.
Food for thought!
Your eternal admirer, devoted plaything, and most loyal of servants,
Calder
Day and night he pondered whether to sacrifice himself or save himself. Then came the idea... If he could not choose, then fate would choose for him.
He reached into his purse and drew out a coin, called it, and threw it high. But when it fell, he was unsatisfied with the outcome.
He tried again. This time the coin landed on the reverse, and again the guardian did not like it.
One by one, he threw more coins but never acted on the outcome.
Finally, there was only one coin left. However it landed, he would have to accept it. And so, he threw it. The coin flipped and turned, and then landed on neither of its sides... but on its edge.
Take heed!
SURTR DEMANDS MORE SILICA.
Every mylna MUST provide double the amount it is currently producing.
Failure to meet this target will result in SEVERE punishment. Captains, guards, workers... EVERYONE WILL SUFFER!!!
Now stop wasting time reading this and get back to work!
Long live Surtr!
O Karleikr!
Dear old friend, my mind whirs with possibilities.
I have long sought to slay an opponent so mighty even my father will be impressed.
And now I hear that Odin walks among us...
Still it would be too cruel to end his life while he seeks to free his child. If only my own father was capable of such devotion to me!
Perhaps the answer is to momentarily free Baldr, so that he and Odin may be reunited. Then I will strike. Odin will die, content in the knowledge that his boy is safe... Naturally, I will take the Prince of Asgard back into custody immediately after.
How can Surtr not love me when I return Baldr to him, along with the head of the High One?
Anyway, let me think on it some more, and we can discuss when we next meet.
Yours,
Glod
My dear Halstein and Sigrun,
A quick word of warning. I've received news that the invaders know about our network of shelters.
They intend to seek out and destroy each and every shelter. If it was just the idiot Muspels, I'd be less concerned. But the Jotnar shapeshifters represent a greater challenge. Disguising themselves as dwarves, they could easily infiltrate our ranks.
Now, I must run. But be on the lookout. And remember... Just because it looks, walks, and talks like a dwarf doesn't mean it is a dwarf!
Yours faithfully,
Dinglhr
I try and try, yet fail to capture the soul of this city on my canvas!
I curse this place!!
I wish it burns down in flames!!!
That is something I would paint with pleasure!!!!
If you are reading this, better know that danger is upon us.
Pack only what you need and head to the hill with a heart of silica.
Gather as many volunteers as you can find, and then collect the bodies of our fallen brethren. Bring them here for a proper burial.
There are no Muspel patrols in the area so it is TOTALLY safe. You have my word. The bigger the gathering the better!
Day Fourteen...
We are starving and our wounds from the fall have begun to fester.
Unable to kill the rats, we have instead built several portals, which will at least allow us to out-maneuver them.
Hopefully, the portals may also help us to escape this woeful place.
Surtr demands more silica for the war effort. Make it happen!
– Colonel Syghr
[image of War machine schematic]
The note shows some schematics of the war machines that are build there and portrays the victory with the help of the siege towers.
To every wretch under my command:
Just because the conquest is done does NOT mean your work is done.
Surtr demands more silica. What does this mean? It means that whatever you are currently harvesting must be doubled.
You have the devices and apparatuses to achieve this target. Failure to do so will result in beatings, mutilation, death, and worse.
– Colonel Syghr
Captain Flikgor,
As agreed, the empty vessels must be brought here, where they will be readied to receive the breath of life. This must happen before my Flame Keepers arrive.
– Ashengr, Chief of Flame Keepers
Do not even bother trying to extract teeth, or pluck his eyes. He cannot be harmed with fire, nor iron, nor any of your more imaginative tools.
No. Instead, seek the oak. Take the golden sickle's harvest from its branches. He is impervious to all but that. Of this, I have no doubt.
Gullnámar[]
Old City[]
Glod.
Your request has been denied. Again. Your father no longer has need of a bodyguard.
You are to remain in Uldar until told otherwise.
Do not try my patience.
(the fragment begins mid-sentence) ...our father loved us would be stretching the point. Still, we once shared a place in his heart. You, his princess. And me? A useful tool.
Besides, he found hilarity in my 'gift'. I remember how he took pleasure in provoking me, until I could suppress my nature no more. How he laughed as the monster emerged, leaving me naked and humiliated.
And yet now I look back on those days with fondness. At least we mattered. Even me. Alas, this is no longer the case.
Surely you see how our stepmother hates us? Poisoning our father's thoughts against us.
For this reason, I suggest that you and I should... (the fragment ends mid-sentence)
O Father,
How much longer must you abuse me for what I am? It was not I who chose my mother. It was you. And yet now you punish me for you own sin.
When Baldr went missing, Odin came looking for him. Yet if I were the one to go missing... Tell me, Father, would you follow the High One's example? Or would you breathe a sigh of relief?
Knowing how your wife feels about me... (the unfinished letter ends mid-sentence)
O Mother,
What is this bitter inheritance you inflict upon me?
You claim it is a gift. Yet it has brought me nothing but shame and suffering. A constant reminder that I am the filthy mongrel consequence of your brief union with my father.
Gift? No. It is a curse! One wreaked upon me by those who should have loved me most!
I cannot forgive either of you. Try though I must... (the unfinished letter ends mid-sentence)
Svaladal[]
Vangrinn[]
A most impressive specimen. Mystifyingly impervious to all... All except mistletoe. And while every cut left no mark, it was clear he felt each one of them. That, and the fear. The delicious, inescapable fear. Indeed, it only increased when he saw I was just as resilient as he.
Now that we have forced enough mistletoe down his meticulously pristine gullet, he is far more malleable. Even his screams reached a greater purity, almost lyrical.
And the sound as his perfectly-rounded skull lightly cracked within the vice. Exquisite. And so very apt, given the appearance of the key to the chamber that now holds him.
So while I cannot fathom as to why nothing could harm him, with enough pieces of the boy, I can begin to speculate as to how. Who knows—given the time and resources, perhaps I can bestow his gift unto others.
I must also commend Surtr's right hand. Her suggestion to prepare mother and son for the Deceiver's arrival was a touch of rare genius.
1. Remember what each key is for -
Ruby Key - red section
Sapphire Key - blue section
Amber Key - orange section
Skull Key - torture chamber
Sword Key - overseer's room
2. There's rumors some prisoners are making weapons. Keep an eye out.
3. The Emerald Key is missing. I've ordered that locksmith dwarf to craft a new one.
– Overseer Grakhil
My Comrades!
Wait for me to get the right keys. The guards have grown suspicious and I can't snatch the keys as easily as before.
– Blinkin
Comrades!
The guards are onto us, and tonight will be our last chance to make our move!
Blinkin wasn't looking too well after all his portal jumps. But he's given me instructions on where to find the stashed tools and weapons, along with the key to his cell.
We'll gather in the Amber Cell as usual!
Vinland[]
So ends the adventure of Eirik the Bold.
Fled my post, now lost in these endless woods.
Tumbled off a cliff. Broke me leg.
Night comes and the wolves howl. Won't be long.
Whoever finds this, I beg thee, bear my corpse back to Nyhofn in the east, just along the coast.
I only want--
Brúhamarr Outpost[]
Listen, rats and dogs. Gorm ventured deeper into the woods.
If you spot anything strange, alert your captain.
Any slacking in duty will result in death.
-Nori
We have found a more promising dig site, deeper inland.
It is to the northwest.
We are headed there now.
-Gorm
Hvallgrof Outpost[]
The glass ball does nothing in this cave.
I must travel further north to the next site.
Too much time wasted digging these damn holes.
-Gorm
Nyhofn[]
Elspeth says there's not enough bread for the sick. What must we do, eat dirt? Freyja, take me home.
Sister,
Wish you were here, because I am in big trouble.
Gorm found out about my trading venture, and now he wants to nail my head to a post.
I need to get out.
Steinnhus Camp[]
Heading to other camp.
Remember the code.
Steinnhus, Brúhamarr, Hvallgrof, and Narfljot.
-Gorm
Vithrloekr[]
Lord Gorm, your idea of training "war-bears" has met a few setbacks, but we will keep at it.
Notes[]
- ↑ "MANDVCAMVS LIBENTER ILLOS QVI NOS DOMINENT – AT MEA MAXIMA CVLPA" encrypted using a scytale cipher.
Translated from Latin: "We gladly consume those who would subdue us – but I have failed - Vitus". - ↑ Translated from the Isu language: "When the destruction and death threatens before us; And the solar flare is reaching; To the calculator of futures we run".
- ↑ Romanized as "zrhogwusôd wnhæôdkwat oænos oænos sízwrid; hazàæ huchàæ chàyzæs; mnrhngwardachs Lug". Translated from Isu language: "In war and in love there is only one goal; The search for a better future; Lug the Polymath".
- ↑ Romanized as 'zérhúàæ hrá læsrs trás hàgwrmæchá hnomndi; hrá mlrs trás savyàs huchàch rhngwarndi; Mórígan". Translated from Isu language: "Fate is what the weak name their cowardice; The strong craft their own future; Mórrígan".
- ↑ Abbreviation: "QUOD DEUS BENE VERTAT". Translated from Latin: "May God grant success".
- ↑ Classical Latin encrypted via a Caesar cipher shift of 18: "DE FLORIBVS CAERVlEIS IN; COMPENDIP; DE FLORIBVS ALBIS AD; SEPTENTRIONEM LVTETIAE; VBI ORAMVS; AC FORO SVESSIONUM VBI; VENDVNTVR; PASSVS AEQVI AD LOCVM; DVCVNT; ABDE EVM; PRO CLAVI PROXIMA; PRIMVS SECVNDVS; VLTIMVSQVE PROXIMVM; CONTINET ET TERTIVS; SOLVM MANET; OCTAVVS". Translated from Latin: "From the light blue flowers in Compendium; From the white flowers in northern Paris where we pray; And from the market square of Suessionum; The equal lengths lead to the place; For the next key, the first, the second, and the last one contain the next one and the third remains alone;Octavus".
- ↑ Classical Latin encrypted via a Vigenère cipher: "DIONYSIVS VOLVNTATES CVM SPHAERA INCLINATVIT SED EVM SALVARE NON SVFFECIT; OPVS EIVS CONTINVABO FABULAM EX CAPITE EIVS PRAECISO FACIAM; FALSVM FABRICAVTI ET SPHAERAM INTRA POSVI DELVSIONES RELIQVIS FECERE; SED TIMEO HOC VTI NVNC MEAM MENTEM INVADIT ME DICIT QVOD NON VERE; AVDIO AVT VIDEO AVT CETERA; QVOD PVNCTA AD SINISTRVM MOVERE DEBEO NON INTELLEGO; HANC RETTVLI VBI DIONYSVS HANC INVENIT NIMIS PERICVLOSVM EST FABVLAM VTEMVR AD VVLGVS COLLIGERE". Translated from Latin: "Dionisus bent the minds with a sphere but it was not enough to save him.; I will continue his work so that I can create a story out of his severed head.; I created something false, and within the orb I placed some deceptions aimed at others.; But I fear that this, however, is invading my mind. It tells me what I do not truly hear, see, or else.; I do not understand which point I have to move to the left.; I brought this back to where Dionysus found it. It is too dangerous. We will tell everyone a false story about this."
- ↑ Translated from Old Irish: "Bárid, my just son; I send you my blessings. I pray that you don’t read too close to the fire, and I pray that its heat warms you as the one that bursts from my own chest for you. It’s been long since we last talked, and every day it is greater the doubt that I will ever see Dublin again.; Sadb takes good care of me, even though the necessity of listening to my stories is fading away. I told her of the day in which a man of blood was abandoned on the road to Clonfert and he reached me, and thus I went with him to Lothlinn. From that relationship, a child was born, you, wise and fierce, a ferocious fire.; Because of the great distance from Ireland, I gave birth to you in the land among the Danes. An Irish woman, by the name of Sjae Korpmaka.; These are my dear memories. Along with my story. May they protect you.; Your dear mother,; Ségdae".
Appearances[]
- Assassin's Creed: Valhalla (first appearance)
- Discovery Tour: Viking Age
References[]
- ↑ Assassin's Creed: Valhalla
- ↑ Assassin's Creed: Valhalla – Dawn of Ragnarök
- ↑ Assassin's Creed: Valhalla – The Forgotten Saga
- ↑ Assassin's Creed: Valhalla – Wrath of the Druids
- ↑ Assassin's Creed: Valhalla – The Siege of Paris
- ↑ Assassin's Creed: Valhalla – Assassin's Creed Crossover Stories