Tome of Ancient Aeons

Through Honor and Glory to Purification and Victory

Three months have passed. Ninety days of doubt, anticipation and fear that the old days would re-emerge and everything we have fought for would turn to ash and dust. Every sacrifice would be in vain and the five remaining kingdoms of Nordenheim would plunge into terror once more, a clinging spark ignited by the distrust that had rooted in the hearts of the old lords. But, the Norrimian Peace Treaty prevailed so far. The lands flourish, new established routes of trade have made the kingdoms greater than ever before. I am beginning to believe that the people have finally come to their senses, overcoming all differences, becoming one as it was meant to be in the beginning of time. Tolerance and harmony filled the air as Norrimians, Kalathorians, Shardians and Horngardians spent their nights together, singing old songs of distant tales, drinking ale in front of the fires. There were drunken fights occasionally, but it was to be expected for that was the source of human nature. And the wars were gone for time being. The people were becoming united. Except for the Rhyvians.

I could never understand them. Although I am of Norrimian heritage and the greatest libraries of the world were built amidst the walls of my city, no book could ever replace what I have witnessed during my stay here in Rhyvinos. These strange men of the north have always fascinated... and frightened me at the same time. Perhaps it was because we knew so little of their culture, their tradition, their way of life. There weren't many historical records of them on the shelves of Aisath Elonur and that was the reason I decided to visit their kingdom during this relative time of peace. Using the opportunity, I have managed to arrange a stay behind their tall, wooden walls and catch a glimpse of what really happened amidst the streets of Rhyvinos. The Rhyvians were a proud folk, suspicious of other men who come from distant lands and invade their homes. They were known for their bravery and warrior skill, ruthless and cunny, trained all their lives to be prepared for the dawn of war.

Roaming down the muddy streets of the old city, I came to realize that these people had no libraries, no books, letters or any kind of paper for that matter. However, I did find hundreds of tall, carefully carved runestones across the city where their greatest crusades were embedded to remain there for eternity. Tall, smooth rocks standing amidst the three-floor wooden housings of hay roofs which kept their entire history since the beginning of the Rhyvian folk.

Examining one of the runestones, I came to realize that these people valued honor above all, next to strength and victory. They believed that only through battle their souls can be judged worthy to enter the glorious halls of the Underworld. I never met a Rhyvian who feared the touch of death, but all of them were afraid that they end up forgotten, their names buried in the sands of time and there would be no place for their souls among the legendary warriors of their ancestors. A greatest achievement in their lives is having their names uttered in tales, their deeds remembered through legends. They are strongly focused on personal strength and glory, traits achieved only through their prowess in battle and their ability to hunt.

During my stay here in Rhyvinos, I came to realize that unlike the other kingdoms, these folk did not distinguish their countrymen by rich and poor, but instead, according to their reputation. I could not see love in the eyes of the women, nor childish joy in the eyes of the young ones. All I met was a raging flame which was carefully tamed through training, brutal rituals and hard, dangerous tests that were meant to cleave the kids into fierce warriors. The babies were cast in buckets of ice-cold water immediately after birth. The ones that survived the cold as chilling as a cutting dagger were allowed to live.

Having a marriage was an awkward thing, at least to me, in these parts. The Rhyvians were a strong, patriarchal society, unlike us, the Norrimians. They chose their women according to their reputation and no love prevailed in the hearts of the northern men. Although I found it fascinating that every single one of them was a relentless, capable warrior, sometimes, these Rhyvians were prone to bullying, bragging and unwillingness to listen to reason. There was a belief among the people that refusing a challenge, no matter how hard or death-threatening it was, would damage their prestige and they would end up ashamed and ridiculed as weaklings. Quite often, I came upon some Rhyvians dueling in the streets, fighting like mindless, blood-thirsty predators until one of them is covered in mud; their faces swollen and dripped in blood. It seems that they respected everyone, even an enemy, who beats them in close combat.