The Fate of Nirdam
The wide expanse of plain rustled through the camp, as the Nirdamese Outcasts, led by Ibrahim, arguably the most famous Nirdam still living – except for Prince Yarih. In the Nirdam tongue, Ibrahim means “father of nations.” This meaning behind his name has made many believe that the fate of Nirdam lies with Ibrahim and his famed Nirdamese Outcasts. The Nirdamese are the exiled men of Nirdam, renowned for their prowess in archery, and for which the bow of a Nirdam is highly prized.
A Nirdamese sentry continues looking on the plain, certain that the rolling plains of the Grand Duchy hold no place for a man to hide. However, he is shocked when he suddenly sees a shadow, barely a few meters from him. The sentry draws his bow and knocks an arrow, shouting clearly: “what man goes there?”
The man in the shadow raises his hands in surrender, and shouts back: “the man of an exiled nation goes there.”
The sentry lowers his bow, as though getting the correct answer to his command, only to raise it a second later after the stranger has closed enough for his face to be seen. “You are definitely Nirdam, but you are not an Outcast, identify yourself! How did you know of our code?”
The Nirdam continues moving, ignoring the sentry’s call until he is barely a meter from the sentry, and can see the sentry’s face. “I am Ishmael Hazak,” states the stranger, “son of Aron and Sara, brother of Ibrahim, who is your Commander. I bring to him tales of my voyage.”
The sentry lowers his bow a little, but still looks alarmed, he calls to the camp, which has not noticed the encounter, and shouts “Ibrahim!” A quick gathering of feet is heard as the whole camp is now roused to the encounter. “Ibrahim! This Nirdam brother says he knows you, he calls himself Ishmael.”
A shout was heard from the camp, as a man came running forward shouting the name. “Ishmael? Ishmael! Where is he?” Ibrahim called, as he went through the crowd and saw the stranger named Ishmael. He let out a shout of joy as he went forward to hug his lost brother. “Ishmael! I had thought you died! We had not seen each other since... since...”
“Since the Vaegir cottage, Brother Ibrahim,” answered Ishmael, pulling back from Ibrahim’s hug.
“Ah... yes, well... come! Quick! By the fire, tell me of what you have gone through.” He pulled Ishmael through the crowd and sat him by the bonfire. He told the sentries to keep watch, but to listen closely. To the others, he told them to sit and listen. “What news from the Vaegir front, Brother Ishmael?”
Ishmael put down his bow and arrow sack, and looked at the band. He had no reaction, but continued by answering his brother’s question. “Brother Ezekiel is alive.”
A great gasp from the crowd was heard, as a Nirdam brother came forth and demanded from Ishmael: “Brother Ezekiel Dizyana, Legendary leader of the Nirdamese Resistance?”
“The very same,” answered Ishmael. A great shout of joy rang through the Nirdamese crowd. “He finds it difficult to send his men here, as they protect more and more women and children, and he barely has men to spare to protect the women and children. Luckily, your Grand Duchy has aided us with Hussars to help the women and children on their long trek through the cold mountains. Most of the refugees now live in a village near Tarnowd, financed by the Prince-Sovereign himself. Brother Ezekiel and his band have refused to return, and so has sent me after five years of his struggle to report on his activities.” Ishmael removed his helmet and boots, and accepted a plate of food from a brother Nirdam before continuing.
“In the five years of guerrilla war in Vaegir territory, the name of Ezekiel Dizyana has gained both fame and infamy. He is famous to the southern Vaegir peoples, those that live near Zenislev, the separatist nobles who secretly hate the Tsar. His tales of defeating hundreds of Vaegirs with barely fifty men have shaken the very soul of the Vaegir nation, though it has not caused its downfall. Many Vaegirs still cling to the delusion that the Nirdam are dead, as very few Vaegirs know of their exploits. The Tsar’s men quickly remove all signs of defeat once the Nirdam threat in that area has moved on.
“Brother Ezekiel Dizyana leads the Nirdamese Resistance under the banner of Prince Yarih and that of his father, the deceased King Leiss of our Dual Monarchy. His longbowmen continue to work through the safety of forests, and his cataphracts only go out to fight in the toughest situations. Brother Ezekiel, however, continues to stay in the battle dressed as a cataphract, even if the other brothers are using their longbows. Brother Ezekiel says that the few Vaegirs that know of his existence fear the very sight of the armoured Nirdam with the banner of the dead Leiss, as though it were something back from the dead to haunt the Tsar. Some of the peasant villages have turned this into legend, the cataphract with the banner of Leiss is the item of legend not just to the Vaegirs, but also to the nearby Laurians and Holy Swadians.
“Day and Night the Nirdam Brothers and Sisters who were condemned to slavery or worse dream of freedom, and Brother Ezekiel has kept that dream alive. Brother Ezekiel continues the fight in small Vaegir villages. He tries his best not to kill regular Vaegir peasants, and makes it his first and only task to free the Nirdam slaves, to take them to his mountain hideout, and to send them here to live a free life. He fights for the freedom of all Nirdams, and of our nation.
“Their resistance has won many battles, but they have had little progress. No lord from the Vaegirs would still openly support Prince Yarih’s claim to the Vaegir throne, and so the Nirdamese Resistance only exists to rally the living Nirdamese to take them to the Grand Duchy. But Brother Ezekiel has talked many times of liberating Nirdam from the Zenislevites. Many of the Zenislevites are talking of separating themselves from the Vaegirs, the Rurik family has already announced their separation with their unity with the Ducal Orlas.”
“Then we must go to them! We must support their liberation of our Motherland!” shouted Ibrahim, as a shout of joy came from the camp.
“No, Brother Ibrahim,” answered Ishmael, putting down the untouched plate of food, “Brother Ezekiel cannot win the war with two of the greatest Nirdams in one location. No, he needs you here to continue your oath with the Prince-Sovereign. If your oath of allegiance continues, then the Duchy continues to bring support to ferry the Nirdam refugees. If you join him, then the oath may not be valid, and the support of the Duchy may turn into our second disappearance from this world. The Duchy knows too much of our way of war and life to be betrayed, Brother Ibrahim.”
“Of course, Brother Ishmael,” answered Ibrahim, “continue your tale then.”
“The Nirdamese Resistance has stayed by the mountains, staying by the forests to avoid them being attacked by large Vaegir armies in the open field instead of the forests, where they live off the land of the forests. Brother Ezekiel has requested me not to tell you where his stronghold actually is, to avoid any temptation to come to him. He has, however, requested that I tell the tale of their way of life, to show to our brothers that their lives are no different than ours.
“For those civilians who have wished to stay, they have established a community in the mountains. So far it has been undetected, and they have grown prosperous by secretly trading with the Swadians. The Swadians of Vyincourd have been friendly with Brother Ezekiel’s Resistance, though they may be the only ones that do. Word has reached me that the Swadian Lord of Vyincourd is not in good terms with the other Lords for his friendly relations with our Brothers and with the Bohemians of the nearby village of Rduna.
“When Brother Ezekiel leads expeditions to raid Slaver caravans with Nirdamese prisoners, our Brother uses castle Vyincourd as a staging point – with consent from the Lord of the castle. He has also sometimes worked with the Bohemians under Jan the Quick, attacking Vaegir caravans, and lords on rare occasions.
“The communities in the mountains are consisted of wooden houses spread out through the deepest regions of the forests. Should one encampment be found, there are plenty more encampments lurking the area. They live in wooden houses, they eat together in nightly feasts to celebrate their survival. The food is provided by the longbowmen, who regularly bring deer, the population of which is thrice more than that of the Vaegirs in Ivangorod, as their nightly game.
“Since the invasion of the Haelmarians, Brother Ezekiel’s dreams of returning the Dual Monarchy have been shattered, as the Haelmarians have occupied the rest of the Dual Monarchy’s old frozen cities. But he tells us all to look for the bright light, as he believes we may have a chance at parleying with the Haelmarians, as we have had contact with them centuries ago.
“I shall tell you of our histories: In the 13th century, the Vaegirs were a Kingdom, and in the land that is now controlled by Lauria, there lived fierce northern peoples who came from the Obello. They called themselves the Nords, and their peoples are now a part of the Haelmarian Union. In the early 14th century, with the creation of the Dual Vaegir and Nirdam monarchies, there existed a war between the fledgling Dual Monarchy and the Nords. Their claim was over the city of Wercheg, our claim was on that city as well. While the Nords were off fighting in the town of Suno – which is now called as Ulm, we besieged the city and were victorious.
“It was in that day that our two peoples met for the first time. The Lord of the city begged for a glorious death, and our Nirdam brothers could give it to them. A sally out the gates, and our Nirdam brothers raining our arrows on them, if all went well, the Nords wouldn’t even reach our lines. The battle was set-up, and the Nords charged out the gates. Our brothers were honourable, and we would stick to our word. Here then, brothers, comes the first conflict between our race and the Vaegirs.
“The Vaegir Lord present in the battle wished to charge them with his cavalry, but our Lord persisted and used his rank to deny the Vaegir his chance of a glorious charge. Our Nirdam Grandfather in that battle would have had no glory given, as in that day a battle won through the use of longbows was not found glorious, even though it was a victory still. All the glory would be given to the defeated Nords, who were coming closer while our Nirdam Grandfathers still weren’t firing at them. Suddenly, the persistent Vaegir Lord charged at the Nords, and our Nirdam Grandfathers thought this dishonourable to our agreement with the Nords, and they fired at the Vaegir cavalry.”
A great shout of joy rang through the crowd at the thought of killing dishonourable Vaegirs, and Ishmael had poetically told them this entire tale to great effect.
“The Nords charged at the remaining Vaegir cavalry, and our Nirdam Grandfathers continued firing, hitting both the Nords and the Vaegirs. After a few minutes of fighting, the Nords were victorious, but they were dead. The remaining Nords called to the Nirdams from the field to shoot them, and our brothers, honourable to the end, agreed. Our Nirdam brothers returned home the only survivors of the siege of Wercheg, no Vaegir ever knew of the story of how the siege of Wercheg was ended, only until the last living Nirdam of that battle was laying on his deathbed was the whole story known. The Vaegir Lord present at the telling of the story showed an extraordinary act for a Vaegir of our age. The loyal Tsarists would have shot the dying Nirdam, but not this man. This man defended the dying Nirdam from the guards present, who had Vaegir relatives die at that field. The Vaegir Lord sadly died, and our Nirdam Grandfather followed soon after.
“It’s these rare acts of kindness that Brother Ezekiel wants us to remember that there are some good Vaegirs. He calls for our kindness to the separatists who have joined the Grand Duchy. He calls us to stop targeting the civilian Vaegirs.”
Ishmael’s eyes suddenly glowed at Ibrahim’s direction, remembering very well how Ibrahim had shown his rage. Ibrahim nodded in understanding, and silently urged him to continue the tale.
“Brother Ezekiel urges us to remember that we are Nirdam, and with being Nirdam comes the virtues that lead our life: loyalty, honour and morality. Should a Brother forget one of these virtues, let he be subject to our code of justice, and to the justice of the Great Father, our Lord, he who created everything. We must remember that, though we live to continue fighting the Vaegirs, we must remember that it was the Great Father that kept us alive. Have faith in the Nirdamese Resistance, have faith on your own Brother and of course, have faith in the Great Father.”
Ishmael stood up and wore all his belongings. “Let us thank the Great Father, Brother Nirdamese, that we have all lived and pray to the Great Father that our lives may continue.” All the Nirdamese stood up and raised their hands with open palms to the height of their shoulders. They bowed their heads, closed their eyes and uttered silent words of prayer to the Great Father.
The Nirdamese, after a few minutes, gathered themselves from their silent vigil. Ishmael strapped on his bow and arrow pack, and faced the group. “Sorry to say, Brother Nirdamese, that I cannot stay long. I must continue on the eternal road to everywhere, and I must continue alone. Brother Ibrahim, it has been an honour, and it shall be an honour for you to let me leave your camp without requests of joining me.”
“I shall, Brother Ishmael,” answered Ibrahim, bowing to his younger brother, and handing him a sack small enough to fit into a belt and handed them to Ishmael. “You will need these; do not open them until you are sure you need them.” Ishmael accepted the sack, and then readied himself for his departure.
“Remember Brother Nirdamese," said Ishmael, facing the crowd, "you are the fate of our nation. Look to your leaders, Brothers Ezekiel Dizyana, Ibrahim Hazak and most importantly Prince Yarih, they are shall be the Fathers of our nation, and they shall lead us to what Nirdam once was.”
“And we shall not forget,” said Ibrahim, facing his men. “We shall not forget that Brother Ishmael Hazak has held together our great nation, that he is the greatest Brother of the Fathers of the Nirdam nation.”
Ishmael bowed to his brother, and turned around, leaving camp. Before he could set foot outside on the great Ducal plains, his brother called to him. “Remember to turn back, Brother Ishmael! When the first star appears on the sky, remember to turn our direction. Your son, Ezra Hazak, is in the village of Krakiw. He is there with his wife and family, and he waits everyday for his Father.” Ishmael continued, not daring to look back, but looked at the starless sky.
A few minutes on his march, he kept looking at the sky at least once every fifteen seconds. Behind him the light of the Nirdamese camp can still be seen. And there he saw it; the first star of the sky can be seen through a rift in the clouds. Ishmael, with joy, turned around to see the camp of his Brothers. And there he saw it: at least thirty arrows can be seen with burning tips through the dark sky, arching to an unknown direction.
Ishmael suddenly had the urge to open the sack, and there he saw his surprise. In the sack was a small bottle of black oil, a strand of rope, cloth, tinder and a flint. He took out an arrow, tied the cloth and tinder with the rope and poured the bottle of oil onto the arrow. He took the tinder and striked it twice to light the arrow. He unstrapped his bow and he put all of his power on the arrow. He knew he was successful when the arrow had hit the sky, and his Brothers had seen it.
“To Krakiw,” Ishmael told himself, packing his bow, leaving the sack on the ground and continuing on his direction.
It's been a while since we've had anything Nirdamese related - Boomie
