The Gathering Storm(L. Jetten) Long ago, there was nothing. Then, the fire came. Thus begin most stories, as told to us by the priests and seers. They also tell us that if one looks into the skies, he can see the past, present and future written in the stars. Whether that is true or not, I do not know. And although our eyes are always fixed at the present and the future, this tale took place in the past, and therefore I ask you, who have gathered around the fire, to be quiet and listen to what has already come to pass.

The past... When all were children of the Lawmaker. We knew peace, we prospered, we were free under his righteous reign. All paid tribute to the Lawmaker and our lands extended beyond the horizon. No king dared to break his laws, to doubt his judgement, to contest his right to rule. Until, prophesied by no seer, the despicable pagans came, pillaging the cities, desecrating the temples and disturbing the divine order. They brought, led by their false idols, fire and spear point to regions that had known peace for centuries. Thrice the Lawmaker waged war on the pagans and thrice they broke our ranks, thrice the Lawmaker fled the field of battle and thrice his army was destroyed. The standard trampled, the sword blood-stained, the honor broken...

The pagans took our lands, settled here and reduced our people, all peoples, to honorless slavery. They forced us to build monuments to their unholy deities. They claimed our gods and their demons were the same. That they are merely known by different names to us and them. Pah! The insult! It could not be forgotten, nor forgiven! The gods called out for vengeance! And their call was answered…

The nomads beyond the great northern river have never been our allies. They have raided our villages since time immemorial. Disorganized they dwelled on the vast plains beyond the borders of settled men. Yet, although they are barbarians and perpetual wanderers, in their hearts burn the same divine flames that gives us life, faith and freedom of the soul. They too, have been touched by the gods. United under the banner of one king they drove the pagans off their lands. Galloping across the endless grasslands, they pursued the godless with lance, sword and bow, until none was left alive. The lord of the pagans warred relentlessly against the nomads, yet could not break their spirit and was forced to retreat. And then the nomads went on the offensive.

They crossed the river in great numbers and descended upon the fertile plains below, like a storm from the north. To the delight of all, and to the horror of the pagans, they consecrated the holy places and destroyed the monuments of the idols. And they galloped onward and their arrows obscured the sun, until the pagans cowardly hid behind the walls of the cities. Only the lord of the pagans dared to fight them and they crushed him and his army like a rat under a horse’s hooves.

The pagans surrendered or fled to whence they had come. They freed the cities and restored the holy places. But that time is past. The descendants of the nomad king have become tyrants, oppressors, unworthy to rule. Although they are followers of the true gods, as we are, they cripple the peoples with taxes like the pagans did. They have taken vast swathes of our land as pastures for their herds. They do not treat us as equals, but as servants, slaves. They command us at a sword's edge and put down revolts under the thundering of hooves and the charge of cataphracts.

They now see themselves as the masters of this land, but are they? Are they truly the owners of the land on which they dwell? Perhaps soon they will find out they are not. Perhaps a new Lawmaker will rise, who will drive back the nomads across the great river. Perhaps, my brethren, we shall soon once again be masters of this land, as the gods command it should be. Perhaps, my brethren, perhaps…

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