The bitter winds of winter thrashed across the sparsely covered plains surrounding the abandoned settlement of Twer. We had arrived several days past, a small band of tired warriors and several women. The cold was fierce, hacking at us in a spiteful way, and if not for our thick furs and youth we would have succumbed to natures enmity long before we had reached this stark place.

Our first task had been to fix the shabby hall at the heart of the settlement. We could tell this place had not long been abandoned for the hall looked effortless to repair. My men set to their work with zeal, eager for a warm place to sleep. By nightfall on the third day, their hard work saw us reclining around a blazing fire, drinking warm mead and eating the roasted meat of a wolf that one of men had taken down with a spear.

Twer was a new start for us. My tribe had been nomadic hunters hailing from the eastern steppes. We existed only to hunt, tracking the herds across the plains. For many years my people had lived this way, indifferent to other tribes. That was until a dreadful enemy came from the far east, from a land no man in my tribe had heard of. They were dark, this new enemy, with slanted eyes and strange armor. They were expert horsemen and they came in droves. For several years my tribe struggled to keep ahead of them, and we succeeded much of the time. But every so often they would swoop down on us and snatch away a handful of lives. My tribe dwindled over the years, until there were less than sixty folk. That was when we decided to leave the east behind us. We trekked west into the unknown frontier, and that became our daily ritual. The enemy fell away and we saw nothing of them for a year. That was when a harsh winter overwhelmed us. Progress became slow, some days we made no ground at all. The elderly and the young suffered the most, sickness struck and people began dying. By the time that winter was over my tribe numbered only thirty folk. Our spirits were broken from the losses we had taken, but we did the only thing we could, we continued west. We seldom saw other tribes in our travels. When we did it usually resulted in a cautious impasse with each side harassing one another at distance. But on one occasion there would be no respite, just a brutal clash that claimed twelve more from my tribe. There was no victory for either side, just a frenzied scene of desperate warriors determined to kill each other. As the sun fell from the sky all that remained was a field strewn with mangled, bloody bodies. I took a nasty gash over my left eye, but also the respect of the remaining men of my tribe. From the gash they have given me the name, Dreadeye, but more importantly they now look to me to lead what is left of our tribe.

That was one full moon past and we have since arrived in the abandoned settlement of Twer. The timber palisade is strong and our spirits are on the mend. Our women are healthy and our mead potent. Our bellies are full and a new dawn greets us on the morrow. We are the Fenni and our tribe must begin anew.

For long days we toiled to make something of the abandoned settlement at Twer. Our small group daily endeavored to mend the buildings that had fallen into disrepair. The process was slow and sapped our spirits, yet the Gods favored us, for new warriors had heard our call and flocked to the Fenni banner, bringing with them strength and will that revived our efforts. Silver began flowing into the tribes chests and roads were made leading to all the new villages springing up in the province.

Our tribe was growing in power, our warriors were honing their battle-skills. But sadly there was one thing lacking. Women were scarce, those already with us were spoken for. So I sent forth scouts to explore the barbarian regions surrounding Twer. Many days passed before they returned with grim tidings. They had found no heroines deemed worthy of wearing the Queen's Diadem. It was a terrible omen for a King to have no wife and ill-ease found an insidious foothold in the royal hall. Though none dared speak of it, as King, I knew finding a Queen was paramount to the success of our tribe.

Then, one day, a trade caravan arrived at Twer over-burdened with goods. The caravan had come directly from our Aorsian brothers in the south. I welcomed the traders, offering rest and nourishment in the royal hall. Over the course of the night I heard talk of a heroine named Astarata, whose deeds were well known. As I listened, hope rekindled. The Aorsian tribe were ever friends of the Fenni. A marriage between our tribes could have only one outcome, to strengthen the already good relations existing between us.

I welcomed the new dawn in good spirit. The traders were about their business, but there was a lethargy about them suggesting too much mead had passed their lips the night before. Sitting in the royal hall, I sent for my personal emissary. When he arrived I told him of my request, told him to speak my words exactly for this was a matter of great importance. When I asked him to repeat what I said, he replied...

QUOTE:
Salutations benevolent Shah in Shah of the Aorsian people. Alconan of the Fenni bids welcome the warriors of your tribe.

Though my King has searched the land for a wife worthy of the Queen's Diadem none have been found. By the favor of the Gods word has reached the royal hall of a heroine named Astarata, whose prestige and deeds have left a mighty impression. My King proposes a marriage with Astarata in the hope it will lead to an unbreakable alliance between us.

If accepted games will be held at Twer in celebration. My King also wishes to make known that Astarata need not leave the Aorse, for the marriage would surely survive the small distance between our tribes.

My King awaits your reply with hope.

My emissary finished with an eloquent bow. Pleased by his effort I ordered him to ride with haste to Srednerusska.
My emissary left immediately, the urgency burning in his eyes. He was a good man, intelligent in the ways of diplomacy. I was confidant he would succeed, but I was also restless.

All I could do was wait, hope my petition would be accepted....

Tired and stained by his journey, the emissary entered the royal hall in a sheepish manner. What little hope I had of a marriage between the Fenni and Aorsian tribes vanished like an early morning fog when I saw the grievous look on his face. He knelt before my throne, revealing his inauspicious news. There would be no marriage with the Aorse. There would not even be an explanation given.

The lack of diplomacy in this matter is a terrible portent of the Gods disfavor. The search for a heroine to wear the Fenni Queens Diadem continues....

In the first moment, Klaevala feels like a little cow, that is hearing thunder the first time. Then he answers:
Say to your king: weeks ago I myself asked Astarata, to be my wife:

She said: No, I don't like to be a bird, that s a prisoner in a golden palace!

You see, this question is not an easy one, but when you both, Astarata and you, king of the Fenni will be husband and bride, than it shalt be!!!

I ll invite all neighbours to a great wedding turnier.

Say that to your master.

Astarata told Kalevala that the messenger of the Fenni is gone. Good luck, she says: I am very unhappy, that I have 3 men, that love me, I love a worrior of the Fenni and I know, he loves me too. Please Kalevala, send the messenger, to the Fennis, to ask, if I may marry Sjaeborn Oakenhorse?
We can make a turney for that, can't we?

Well I ll send a messenger to my friend, the king of the Fenni, to explain the situation to him. And so a messenger of the AORSIAN NATION is hurrying to the castle of the Fenni nation.

The Aorsian messenger strode into the royal hall purposefully. He had an aura of urgency surrounding him, clearly his news was important.

Reclining on my throne I gestured for the messenger to come. He kowtowed before me, then decreed that Astarata desired to wed Saebjorn Oakenhorse, Locum of the Fenni tribe.

I listened to the request, feeling slightly aggrieved that she had chosen my second in command, but the Gods had made their favor obvious, and it is not my place to challenge their omnipotence. I dismissed the messenger, offering him refreshments and rest. He obliged and followed a servant to claim his reward.

I took some time contemplating the proposed marriage between Astarata and Saebjorn. It would surely be of great benefit to the relationship between the Aorse and Fenni. With enough time it may even lead to an alliance. And Astarata had chosen well, for Saebjorn was the richest landowner of the Fenni. Coming to realize the advantages of this marriage heavily outweighed the disadvantages I would give my blessing.

I recalled the Aorsian messenger later in the afternoon. Entering the hall he seemed well rested and wore a broad smile on his face. I told him the marriage between Astarata and Saebjorn was most welcome by the Fenni, and to celebrate it games would be held in the near future for all warriors of both tribes to test their combat skills.

The messenger nodded, saying he would take this news to Srednerusska with haste, and as he departed I too left the hall, intent on seeking out Saebjorn to tell him he would soon be welcoming a wife....

For my Astarata…

Vivamus, mea Lesbia, atque amemus,
rumoresque senum severiorum
omnes unius aestimemus assis!
soles occidere et redire possunt:
nobis cum semel occidit brevis lux,
nox est perpetua una dormienda.
da mi basia mille, deinde centum,
dein mille altera, dein secunda centum,
deinde usque altera mille, deinde centum.
dein, cum milia multa fecerimus,
conturbabimus illa, ne sciamus,
aut ne quis malus invidere possit,
cum tantum sciat esse basiorum.

Let us live, my Astarata, let us love,
and all the talk of the stern old men,
may it be worth a penny!
Suns may set, and suns may rise again:
but when our brief light has set,
night is one long everlasting sleep.
Give me a thousand kisses, then a hundred,
then another thousand, and then another hundred,
and, when we've counted up the many thousands,
let us confuse them so as not to know them all,
so that no enemy may cast an evil eye,
when he finds out that there were so many kisses.

Yours eternally, Saebjorn Oakenhorse