Songs of the Return, Volumes 38 & 39

####Songs of the Return, Volume 38: The Nigh Lost Tale of the Brahtmiir

Many of the tales of the men and women who were the mighty Five Hundred Companions have been nearly lost due to time and forgetfulness. But some tales were never meant to be lost, and we sing them now until our Forefathers can hear are voices in Sovngarde.

One of these tales tell the story of the famed and distant crew of the Brahtmiir, who were legendary in their skills of the clever craft. When the Companions decided to settle the land, the Brahtmiir were so inseparable that they boarded their ship and sailed away from the snowy grounds for adventure and glory nearly forgetting to say farewell.

With the blessings of Kyne upon their backs and the teachings of Jhunal in their arms the Brahtmiir leaped across the waters to the southern east, with such warriors and mages of courage onboard such as Captain Hjaal (whose creations of runes were unrivaled), Boat-Thane Kit the Whisper (who spoke like spring and cursed like winter) and his best friend Hun (whose fists cracked rock), who’s War-Wife was Aria the Fire Catcher. With them were two dozen more Companions (notable ones being the Driftsman and Guri Nail-Face), who sought to seek new lands for conquest.

The Brahtmiir, however, became so entrenched with their wanderings that they forgot to play tribute to the gods, and so Mother Kyne breathed their boat into a storm so violent that the sound of thunder cracked the air and the cold froze the wind mid-passing. Young Yoki and Clever-Man Grunfar the Solaced lost their lives in nature’s fury, and it was in much weeping and limping that the Brahtmiir landed on a isle in the sea that seem to shift and rearrange itself in their memories.

It was here that the crew of the Brahtmiir discovered even newer horrors, as they were attacked by tribes of savage bat-men who looked like mer, and whose voices rivaled their own skills at the clever craft in both elegance and power. For five days and nights the Companions and the wicked beastmen combated with talk, steel, and clever craft until the island began bleeding rivers of flowing ichor.

When both sides realized that neither could out best the other with simple attacks, they resulted to using the most powerful of magicks. The bat-men summoned a blasphemous entity (whose name we shall not record here for fear of evoking him) who killed ten of the Atmorans instantly by simply Speaking. With bloody hearts and pained mouths the Clever Men of the Brahtmiir cried out to Jhunal, who wept at his apprentices suffering. The Rune God ran to the domain of Kyne, who he begged of to save the Brahtmiir. The Mother of Tears wept as Jhunal wept, and through great power summoned the ghost of valiant Shor, whose battle with the bat god in the aether allowed the Brahtmiir to escape the island on crippled planks, eventually returning to the home they had gleefully abandoned with much grief uncontained.

####Songs of the Return, Volume 39: The Final Tale of the Brahtmiir

The wailing of the crew of the Brahtmiir alerted their brethren on the mainland during the starry night, and with much haste they were pulled out of the sea and set upon the frozen land. Despite the pleas of the warriors of Windhelm the crew of the Brahtmiir refused to tell them their sad story, and merely set their tearful hearts west, searching for a place where they could drown their sorrows in the blood of enemies. Ysgramor, who in his great wisdom, knew what was troubling them and left them pass, knowing that he would never see another of their ilk again in recent memory.

Carrying their ship on their back, Captain Hjaal led his crew through rocky valleys and frozen forests, and still with them was the Driftsman and Guri Nail-Face, who came despite wanting to stay in Windhelm but loved their friends to no ending. Together the two crews moved forwards, using the clever craft to light their way in shadow, for which they had come to fear after their battles with the bat-men of the eastern seas. With fury fueled by sadness they struck out against all settlements of mer that they came across, but nothing ended their sorrow or pain and so they pressed onwards leaving a bloody trail behind and before them.

It wasn’t until the twentieth day after they had first embarked that they entered a region of muck and frost populated by mer led by Mage-Lord Rolthryn the Ethereal, who by legend was the child of one the spirit women that dwelled between worlds. And despite the crew’s knowledge of the Clever Craft, they could not defeat the elves, who were able to become as ghosts because of their lord’s heritage. With much regret the Brahtmiir fled to the southern mountains that gazed down upon the marsh with frosty tears, and rested on their peaks. And as his comrades slept, the goddess Kyne sent a bird of purest snow down from the clouds to rest on his shoulder, and Hjaal knew that this was a sign of how to defeat Rolthryn the Ethereal. Awakening the others, he drew runes of snow on their skin and forged weapons of frost in the name of Kyne and Jhunal for days on end, and it wasn’t until they were finished that they walked down the mountains towards the city of the elves, using their craft to make the very laws of nature heed their grieving will.

And as the crew of the Brahtmiir came into the sights of the mer that presided in the city, their enemies cried out in fright for they thought the men were gods in disguise because of their garb and ran off to their Mage-Lord to learn how to confront them. And Rolthryn the Ethereal listened to what his warriors said, and mustered a force of mer thrice greater than the heads of the Brahtmiir and glided out to meet them. As the wretched elf passed the trees wilted and the grass died in his wake, and his army transformed into shades of the lightest blue unable to be touched.

Hjaal signaled to the others to remain where they were, and as Rolthryn approached he readied the incantations he spent so much time in preparing and knew that once it was completed he would no longer be able to exist in this realm. For the captain, a great Clever Man, knew that in order to defeat a spirit one must first sacrifice a spirit. With his own being he used his own soul to enchant his axe, and with a war cry that shook the trees he struck at Rolthryn, who attempted to become like spirit to avoid the blade. But a soul can hurt another soul, and the axe passed through the mer’s neck and his head flew into the horizon, and Kyne turned it into a massive stone in the forest.

With the defeat of their leader, the mer that remained became touchable by flesh and the crew of the Brahtmiir descended upon them in their fury as Hjaal fell into the snow as dead. The soil became mud from the blood that poured into it, and when the elves had been defeated they laid siege to their city and made it crumble to the ground. And from that point on, they knew that they had found the place where they would stay in the new land, and they buried Hjaal beneath the city that they built the Brahtmiir into, and they named the region Hjaalmarch in his honor. No other mer troubled them for the rest of their days.