We have updated our Community Code of Conduct. Please read through the new rules for the forum that are an integral part of Paradox Interactive’s User Agreement.
You are using an out of date browser. It may not display this or other websites correctly. You should upgrade or use an alternative browser.
Well... here goes. This is my first AAR. I am looking forward to sharing my imagination with you. My plan is to post weekly, but for the first week or two I might give you a little more. If you know what the After the End mod is, you can skip the next post.
After the End is a "what if" scenario. Imagine that there was something really bad that happened called The Event. It totally shattered everything we built. I know. Impossible to believe with our current cohort of stable, rational, and service oriented world leaders, but imagine it all the same.
Slowly, people put things back together, but what was created is not at all like what was before... except when it is. The focus of this mod is on North and South America rather than Europe, Africa, and Asia.
Before you read, a little challenge. Figure out where in the Western Hemisphere this takes place, right down to the province/territory if you can. As soon as you've figured it out, quote the line in your response. Enjoy!
Jamilla Albertskid stared out at the beautiful vista from the top of Plummer Hill. The pine and maple trees reminded her of home, but so much was different here. Rather than the Northwoods forests melting into the beach of Lake Huron, the forest hugged the Zumbro River, a much less remarkable but serviceable waterway. She knew that just a few miles out, the land was flat and dry, like the lake she grew up with but with waves of grass, not water. She nodded decisively. Yes, this place would be familiar in some ways, but different in others and full of new challenges. She would make something of this hamlet on the edge of nowhere.
“Impressive view, eh?”
Jamilla cringed slightly as she heard his voice. He had the sound of an undecided tenor with the velvety rasp of an adolescent. She had expected nothing less than this from a sixteen-year-old boy, but was it so wrong to hope for more? Putting on a cheery smile, Jamilla turned and faced the youth who intruded on her thoughts.
“Well hello there! Yah, it’s really nice up here. Ya must be Lars.”
“Jamilla!” barked her brother, Constantine. “Pa taught you better than that. Greet yer liege lord and promised husband with some respect.”
“Oh fer gosh sakes, I’m sorry!” Smiling a bit wider, and a bit more forced, she curtsied low. “Well met, Chief Lars of the Rochester tribe. I am Jamilla, daughter of Albert The Terror of the Lakes and late king of Superior. I greet ya and look forward to our upcoming wedding.”
As she rose from her genuflection, she studied her future husband closer. True, he hadn’t managed a beard yet, and still had a little of the baby fat of youth in his cheeks, but she could see some potential. Although obviously no warrior, his broad shoulders were those that came with hard work from a life of farming and chores. His eyes gleamed with an intelligence that belied his farm boy appearance.
“No worries, my lady,” said Lars with a confident smile. “I should expect that meeting the man ya’ve been waiting for all yer life is a bit overwhelming. Yer manners do ya credit.”
So that’s how it was, eh? Her manners did indeed do her credit. She refrained from rolling her eyes. Lars continued.
“I thought perhaps we might go on a walk along the trails as we enjoy the vista and ya could get ta know me better. Chief Constantine has agreed ta accompany us as a chaperone.”
Constantine scowled at the two of them. Her twin was good at scowling. She remembered that same scowl on his face as they approached the gates of Rochester earlier that morning. “Sister,” he he had said, piercing her with his eyes as though she were an enemy on the field of battle. “This alliance is important. I am not afraid ta stand alone against my enemies, but I cannot win without allies. I have but one county ta my name. I need Rochester’s levies. Ya must make a good impression, and that means keeping yer mouth shut and yer secrets where they belong.”
Jamilla turned toward her brother and spoke with deliberate, exaggerated calm. “Ya’ve got nothin’ ta worry about from me, Constantine. I’m not gonna ruin this chance ta leave you behind. Just remember, I’m not the only one with secrets ya don’t want out. You behave yerself while we’re here, too, or yer stuck with me.”
Predictably, he’d scowled at that. He didn’t disagree, though. He knew that she knew.
However, he was right. There were a few things she wasn’t ready for her soon-to-be husband to know yet. Fortunately, he had provided her with an easy out. All she had to do was let him do all the talking.
“What a marvelous idea! Lead the way and tell me all about yerself. I wanna know everything.”
She saw Lars stand up a little straighter. He extended his arm, which she took, and strutted down the walking trail with Jamilla at his side and Constantine trailing behind, still scowling.
“Well, where ta start?” He paused and thought for a moment, “I suppose the best place ta start a story is at the beginning, eh? I was born here in Rochester.”
Oh fer gosh sakes, thought Jamilla, this could be a very long walk.
“It’s not like yer Great Lake, but it is a place full of history and magic. Fer centuries, Rochester has been a place known fer its healing powers and a gatherin’ place of scholars and men of great vision. It has shaped me inta the man I am today, and now I will shape it into a place worthy of some new sagas. My parents recently passed on, with my pa leavin’ me as chief of this tribe with additional holdings in the county of Shakopee. The people of Rochester live ta serve the legacy of Dramaticus in all they do and as his direct descendent, I intend ta not only build on that legacy, but surpass it.”
“My oh my, a descendent of Dramaticus,” said Jamilla, pretending to be impressed. “I didn’t know that he had children.”
“He did, but that part of his history isn’t much known outside of these parts.”
Jamilla’s smile was more genuine this time. She always had loved a good story and the Legend of Dramaticus was one of the best. “I’ll be just tickled pink ta meet with all yer elders ta learn more. Can ya imagine what it must have been like back then? The Event. Death and destruction raining down upon ya and everyone ya know. He must’ve been an amazing leader to form one of the first tribes, eh? And ta think that the Rochester tribe lives on today! Fer gosh sakes, he must have been clever, tenacious, and inspiring.”
Lars stopped for a moment and stared at her, apparently stunned by her words. His swagger transformed as he leaned in close to her, his entire body was energized and tense, like a string on a violin about to be played by a virtuoso. “Yer interested in the ancient legends? Truly?” His question was very softspoken, obviously so her scowling brother couldn’t hear the question. In that moment of quiet query, though, there was something more than just uncertainty: there was a true sense of wonder for the Old Stories. The little boy who still had residence in some small part of Lars shone through, but not in the off-putting way of a strutting young peacock compensating for lack of experience with bravado. No, this was the guilelessness of a child at night listening to sagas around the campfire. It was the first completely genuine thing he'd said so far. She was disarmed by his excitement… and intrigued. She also realized that her answer would matter to him.
“I mean, most people aren’t,” he continued, talking far too fast to continue the pretense of suave confidence he had adopted so far. “Everyone knows a few of the stories, but most don’t want ta really know them. They just think they’re tales ta help the little ones fall asleep at night. Me, I wanna know what really happened.” In the silence that followed his confession, he looked away, and a blush crept up his cheeks.
Jamilla could scarcely believe the glimmer of insight that this jumped-up lordling gave her into something he truly cared about. Gathering herself together, Jamila let go of his arm and turned to face him. Lars immediately pulled back, startled and perhaps afraid of what she might say, but when her eyes locked on his, she knew that he saw the intensity that she felt building in her soul.
“Ever since I was a little girl, the sagas have spoken ta me deeply. Odin, Freya, Thor, and all the rest of the Gods connect with us through the stories. They push us ta be better people than we are today. Sometimes, one of us mortals is Chosen by the Gods to do great things and has their favor. One such man was Dramaticus. Ta study his tale, ta know how it truly goes is ta understand what the Gods demand of all of us. These old tales have power. Those who ignore the wisdom of the Gods and dismiss it as bedtime stories fer babes may find that, when they arrive at their final sleep, they don’t wake up in Vallhallafame. They are not worthy of the honor. Yes, Lars, yer stories are important.”
She extended her arm, which he took in his as they started to walk down the path toward the gates of the tribe’s encampment. “By the way,” said Jamilla, breaking the companionable silence, “yer kinda cute when you blush.” They said no more as they walked together up to back to the tribe’s encampment.
Congrats @Sirdramaticus for taking the plunge! This is certainly an engaging first chapter and I will ride along to see what comes next. Fair warning though: I often fall behind and have to work hard to catch up, sometimes months later. But you have a very interesting start.
As @Cora Giantkiller mentions, you have the north woods/Minnesota accent and patter down. Nicely done.
“Ever since I was a little girl, the sagas have spoken ta me deeply. Odin, Freya, Thor, and all the rest of the Gods connect with us through the stories. They push us ta be better people than we are today. Sometimes, one of us mortals is Chosen by the Gods to do great things and has their favor. One such man was Dramaticus. Ta study his tale, ta know how it truly goes is ta understand what the Gods demand of all of us. These old tales have power. Those who ignore the wisdom of the Gods and dismiss it as bedtime stories fer babes may find that, when they arrive at their final sleep, they don’t wake up in Vallhallafame. They are not worthy of the honor. Yes, Lars, yer stories are important.”
Okay, this is the hook for me. If you are going to tell modern Sagas and deal with the Norse gods, how can I not read this? That's all I've been playing with the past few years. Thank you and good luck as you continue onward.
Thanks for the invite to read and I enjoyed the first chapter. Getting dialect to read properly is a difficult think and you've done it well here. Kudos for jumping in and good luck keeping it going!
@Cora Giantkiller , thank you SO much for this! A vote of support before I even wrote a post. I mean, granted, there was a part of me going CRAP! Someone is reading this before I've got my first post formatted. This is stressful. However, knowing I had a reader was great motivation and really warmed my heart.
Ha! Me too, but you may be waiting a while. I am trying to resist the temptation to do "all the things" at once. Otherwise, I worry I will have a good AAR for a little bit and then everyone will be like "oh. Another hotdish feast. Blah. I wonder if Cora Giantkiller has posted another chapter. Her stuff is always good." Granted, I hope they read your stuff, but I try not to be too boring.
@Chac1 WHAT??? Could it possibly be that a Paradox players have other hobbies, interests or life obligations? How dare you defy stereotypes of gamers! On the flip side, if reading AARs is pretty much all you do, it's super cool that you support everyone and build community here. That defies a different gamer stereotype.
I also have stuff to do, which is why I waited until I had 127 pages of story written before I posted this.
My screenname backstory is pretty uninteresting. In high school, I loved doing theatre (anyone else a proud thespian?). I needed a cool AOL instant messenger name. Then, one day, I had to change my name for some reason. I decided, in typical adolescent fashion, to go big or go home, so I knighted myself. Now Dramaticus' backstory, that might be more interesting. His goals, achievements, and ideals are part of my long term plan for the story. You'll hear more about him, but not much for a while.
Okay, this is the hook for me. If you are going to tell modern Sagas and deal with the Norse gods, how can I not read this? That's all I've been playing with the past few years. Thank you and good luck as you continue onward.
The saga of Dramaticus is multifaceted and, I hope, will be told in an unusual way. It will also be a while. I can promise you that, coming up, is the story of a new member of the Norse pantheon created as the new world rose from the ashes of the old. One of the things I love about AtE is that I'm not constrained by historical accuracy and, by and large, I can create the world I want to build
@coz1 Thank you for stopping by. It means a lot. Your CK2 AAR the Song of Wessex was the first one on the site that engrossed me. Her name escapes me right now, but one of the queens in your story who was also duchess of Lancaster was a very interesting character who I enjoyed immensely.
I am glad to hear that the dialect is comprehensible. I wasn't sure how much to put in. Almost NO Minnesotans I know speak like this, although most have a trace accent.
For those who find it annoying, know that it will ebb and flow depending on the setting and the character as the AAR goes on. Also, the dialectical spellings will only happen in spoken lines and be limited to words that shouldn't be too crucial to the meaning. It's been fun to do, especially when I have my characters saying intelligent things with an accent. People who speak with a regional flare are rarely the backwoods idiots others perceive them to be.
@jak7139 Yes. In a lot of ways, it plays like a CK 3 game, but probably the biggest difference is that the designers very ambitiously created cultures and territory from the tippy top of the arctic circle all the way down to the bottom of South America. They also added a few Easter Egg characters to certain locations. You'll meet one such familiar face in a few posts from now.
There will be a new post tomorrow night unless things get too crazy. Thank you for your interest so far.
Lars shot an irritated glance at Lung, his tribe’s Refri, as the cleric stumbled toward him carrying a jumbled pile of many vellum scrolls containing the holy rites that would be a part of the upcoming nuptials. The man may be the holiest man in the tribe, but his preparation had been less than stellar for this event.
“Yah. Sure,” said Lars dryly. “I assume ya have an update fer me on the progress of the ceremony? I’m eager ta get married and don’t need any nonsense or delay.”
Lars found himself surprised that, in fact, he was eager to get married. Certainly, he had his reasons for choosing Jamilla, but it hadn’t had much to do with love, or even lust. She had certain qualities he was sure he would find useful, above and beyond her brothers’ sizable levy. That being said, his choice had been entirely about practicality. Strictly business. However, their conversation on the path back to camp had given him pause. They shared some common interests that might make the whole ordeal of having a wife to manage quite worthwhile.
The Refri smiled broadly, “no worries on that account m’lord. We got things worked out. The animals are all in their pens, yer sword is stowed away, and the cords are dyed the colors you and yer bride requested fer the handfasting. Also, the sauna has been prepared fer the ladies of the tribe. I even took the liberty of sending them with blessed herbs ta create a heavenly aroma fer yer bride as the smoke and the heat purifies her fer the ceremony.”
Lars squinted at Lung, assessing him coldly. This sounded competent. Far too competent for the likes of his Refri. Lars had been babysitting him for this whole process. Although the holy man did list many things as finished that needed doing, Lars thought of one thing that the goodly cleric did not mention.
“Refri,” he said, “this is indeed a pleasant surprise. I am well pleased.”
Lung bowed subserviently to his liege, a mixture of pride and relief on his face.
“The only thing I haven’t heard from ya yet is the blessing that begins the ceremony. Say it fer me now.”
“Chief Lars, I-”
Lars petulantly cut him off with the wave of a hand. His next words were laced with as much sarcastic venom as the smile he now wore.
“Refri Lung. What day is it today?”
“Friday m’ lord.”
“When do weddings happen?”
“On Fridays, m’lord.”
“So that means that our wedding happens today. Specifically, this evening. Specifically at the runestone away from torches and candles. It’s gonna be awfully hard ta read the scrolls. I wanna hear the blessing. From memory. Now.”
Refri Lung took a deep slow breath in and exhaled. Lars chose to ignore the trembling hands before him, though they did not inspire confidence. “Let Odin, the All Father, cast his eyes upon this couple and delight in their union. Let Thor’s belly swell with pride as the happy couple is also swell, and let Freya’s hammer-”
“Odin’s scraggly balls, Refri! What was that??” The outraged chief shouted at his holy man. “I am a man with no training in the holy rites and I could do better than that. Odin cannot cast his eyes upon us. He’s only got one. It is Freya who will swell with pride as may the belly of the blessed bride. She’s the goddess of fertility man, and the words rhyme, fer gosh sakes! And of all the indignities, you emasculated Thor by bequeathing his hammer to a woman. Have ya practiced this blessing at all???”
Refri Lung squirmed uncomfortably. “Well, m’lord, I did, but there was so much ta do and I thought I might break it up throughout the day so I didn’t have to sit so long slavin’ away at the runes-”
“AAGH!” shouted the thoroughly exasperated Lars. “Yer a Refri! It’s yer godsdamned job ta study the runes. Now get back ta yer tent and get to work!”
The refri bowed deeply and, carrying his vellum scrolls in hand, turned and ran back to his cabin, rapidly mumbling the words to the blessing as he ran.
Lars huffed indignantly. How he wished that he was the one in the sauna instead of his bride to be. It sounded like a much more pleasant activity than what he was putting up with right now.
Jamilla was hungry. She could really go for some of those crispy fried onions that some of the cooks were preparing for the feast. Crispy fried onions sounded reeeeally good. She thought about going to get some, but then remembered that she needed to complete the sauna ceremony to purify her before her wedding. So, she had to stay here and sweat. Even though she really wanted the crispy fried onions.
Oh well, she thought. I guess I have to get hot before I get some. She giggled. Hot! Get some! Bawdy jokes were funny and she felt sooo relaxed.
She looked around the sauna at the other women of the court. Everyone was in a deep meditative state. Or just sitting there staring off into space. It was hard to tell the difference. She giggled again.
“What’s so funny, m’ lady,” asked one of the courtiers. What was her name again? Zool? Zoobiedoobie? Zoo full of animals? No. Oh! Zuhur. Yah, that was her name.
“Well, Zuhur,” she said. “I was just thinkin’ how good some of those crispy fried onions would taste. And about how funny bawdy jokes are.” Jamilla paused. Should she have said that out loud? Oh well, too late now.
A beatific smile slowly grew on Zuhur’s face. “You betcha! Those crispy onions sure are delicious. I love how they come in those little baggies. I could eat about five of ‘em right now. The little baggies full of onions, I mean, not five onions. That wouldn’t be enough at all!”
Everyone else laughed at that. It was all so gosh darn funny. Then, Lem leaned in with a mischievous look in her eye. “Bawdy jokes are funny, but not as good as a nice bawdy tale! Or better yet, some advice fer the bride-ta-be!”
“Advice??” Responded Jamilla, somewhat surprised. Then she warmed to the idea. “Yah sure you betcha! Sounds good ta me. Who has any tips fer me on my wedding night?”
Everyone in the room got really quiet for a moment. They all looked away. Jamilla got worried. Lem was a traveler, not an official member of the tribe. Perhaps she had said something she shouldn’t have and Jamilla had walked into it. Maybe she should make some repa… reparat… what was that word? Aw heck, she should apologize!
“Oh fer gosh sakes, I stepped in some real horse poo, haven’t I? My brother warned me ta keep my mouth shut.”
“No, m’lady, it’s not that,” said a shy quiet voice. Lea could barely look at Jamilla. Where some of the other ladies seemed relaxed, Lea sat with her arms over her chest and her legs twisted up like a pretzel. She didn’t seem at all comfortable in the sauna. Or at least, not being in it with other people.
“The thing is, none of us are married.”
Jamilla burst out laughing, “WHAT???” In a functioning tribe, a single woman was a rare thing. This made no sense. Most of these women were ripe for the plucking… or for the fu-
“Chief Ole was a doddering old fool at the end!” shouted Avery, interrupting Jamilla’s thoughts.
The other women shot her disapproving glares. It was not polite, or wise, to speak ill of Chief Lars’ father. “Oh come on, ya know it’s true! The last ten years, he couldn’t tell his sword from a pitchfork. When it came ta wedding contracts, he just fergot. His wife wasn’t much better, either. Without the chief’s permission, nobody could get married.”
Jamilla pondered this. “Huh,” she said insightfully. This was something to be fixed. She started to come up with a plan to do something about this. It would have lots of details and stuff.. but as she tried to think about it clearly, she ended up staring into space with an empty mind.
Then, it hit her. This is really strange. I’m never hungry when I’m hot, and I’m really hot right now. Then she giggled. She said “hot.” Well… thought it anyway. And why am I giggling so much? That’s not normal for me. She looked around. There was a lot of steam. They’d poured some water on the coals, but they were still burning. In fact, they used the coals to light the herbal bouquet that the Refri had given them. The aroma of sage and lavender had livened up the smell of the room and mercifully protected everyone from the smell of sweaty bodies. There was also another smell. What was it? Suddenly, she had a thought!
“Hey, Lea, the Refri brought us two bouquets fer the ceremony. Can I see the one we haven’t burned yet?”
The young woman seemed to gather up a little courage and untangled herself just enough to grab the bundle of herbs sitting next to her. She handed it to Jamilla and immediately curled back up into a ball.
Jamilla examined the bundle carefully. Some sage and lavender. A bit of sweetgrass, and…
“Sonja,” queried Jamilla, “yer a tribal elder. Can ya tell me if it’s normal in the sauna ceremonies fer the bouquet ta include Mary Jane?”
Sonja’s eyes went wide “Absolutely not! That’s one of our cash crops, but not used in ceremonies of purification.”
“Well,” said Jamilla, “I guess there’s a first time fer everything!”
Gasps and exclamations of surprise erupted from the women and they gathered around to see the herbs in the bouquet. With a great deal of mental effort on everyone’s part, they counted five points on some wide leaved plants and determined that indeed, a lot of the bundle was weed. They also noted that “indeed” and “weed” rhymed. That was funny. So they giggled.
“Well whaddaya know?” exclaimed Victoria. “I saw Lung out in the fields gatherin’ herbs in a real hurry. He didn’t seem ta be payin’ much attention ta what he was throwin’ in the bouquet, but he’s our holy man. When he gave me the bundles, I just assumed he knew what he was doin’.”
I guess this means…” she snorted as she tried to hold back her laughter “that our Refri gave us a reefer!” The ladies burst out into laughter and, after a few minutes more, decided that perhaps the purification ceremony should end a bit early so they could sober up for the wedding.
Thank you for the latest chapter. I am not sure if this AAR is meant as a comedy but the last chapter sure had its funny moments. I found the earlier parts light-hearted, but this had more than a few chuckles. Thanks for those.
My screenname backstory is pretty uninteresting. In high school, I loved doing theatre (anyone else a proud thespian?). I needed a cool AOL instant messenger name. Then, one day, I had to change my name for some reason. I decided, in typical adolescent fashion, to go big or go home, so I knighted myself. Now Dramaticus' backstory, that might be more interesting. His goals, achievements, and ideals are part of my long term plan for the story. You'll hear more about him, but not much for a while.
The saga of Dramaticus is multifaceted and, I hope, will be told in an unusual way. It will also be a while. I can promise you that, coming up, is the story of a new member of the Norse pantheon created as the new world rose from the ashes of the old. One of the things I love about AtE is that I'm not constrained by historical accuracy and, by and large, I can create the world I want to build
Refri Lung took a deep slow breath in and exhaled. Lars chose to ignore the trembling hands before him, though they did not inspire confidence. “Let Odin, the All Father, cast his eyes upon this couple and delight in their union. Let Thor’s belly swell with pride as the happy couple is also swell, and let Freya’s hammer-”
More examples that you have the local patter down. (And as this is actually the future/alt-history it could vary.) Guessing you live or have lived in the upper Midwest of the U.S.
Thanks so much for this. A smile and a chuckle is always good when reading. Now, likely in silent mode for some time until I can return to full-time reading.
To be fair, this is not a bad strategy for memorizing lines. But my guess is Refri has been partaking as well as gathering marijuana.
Hopefully Jamilla being under the influence at her wedding won't cause Lars to lash out. He seems like he could be a very unpleasant husband if he wanted to be.
I would encourage the ladies to switch to edibles, personally. Also the combination of Minnesota nice and ancient Norse beliefs is so so entertaining to me, I would enjoy a long AAR that was just that.
@Chac1 I did intend for there to be moments of humor in this AAR. As I reflect, I don't know that this AAR will be a comedy, but I think there will be an undertone of humor throughout. There are also chapters that I have planned with trigger warnings.
I really appreciated this comment. A few readers referred to Refri as a name. It's a title. The Refri's name is Lung. I haven't done a good job of explaining the After the End twist on the Norse religion in my story. I think I may sneak another interlude in to try and cover some of the basics. I was going to explain it here, but I'm trying to avoid out of story exposition... unless it's "well, in the game THIS happened" or "I had to look in the console commands to discover"
@jak7139 Daaaaaaamn! I feel so stupid. It is 100% in line with his character to do that. I didn't even think of it from that perspective. I'll show you all his character page sometime soon. That said, this is one of the aspects of AAR writing I hoped would happen: people would see aspects of a character that I might not have seen myself. Thank you for helping me get to know Lung better.
I would encourage the ladies to switch to edibles, personally. Also the combination of Minnesota nice and ancient Norse beliefs is so so entertaining to me, I would enjoy a long AAR that was just that.
@Cora Giantkiller Unfortunately, the knowledge of the Ancients has largely been lost. Edible gummies were one of the many grand traditions to go after the Event. Primarily because the people responsible for making them were going to write down how to do it, but then they got the munchies.
The "Minnesota Nice" combined with Norse theology comes from this. One of the reasons that humor lends itself to this AAR in places is that the designers of After the End have a sense of humor about our post apocalyptic societal development.
In response to the comments from @Chac1 and @Cora Giantkiller , I wrote a post that I hope will give some insight into the faith of the Rochester Tribe while still furthering the story. I think it made the telling better. Thanks for your great comments. Enjoy!
As she stumbled out from the sauna, the fog slowly cleared from Jamilla’s mind in the fresh air.
She was furious. And terrified.
The Refri had failed her on her wedding day, leaving her at the mercy of evil spirits… or perhaps Loki himself. How dare he??
What if the Gods had allowed this to happen to test her worthiness? If they had, did she really pass? Stumbling naked out of a sauna with an addled brain before she was completely overcome didn’t seem like a triumph. What if this was not a challenge, but fate working against her? That would be dire indeed.
The only thing she could do was to prove to the Gods that she was, beyond a doubt, worthy.
Jamilla paused, gathering herself together for a moment, and then began marching single-mindedly toward the village.
The Sagas taught that the purpose of life is to prepare yourself for the Super Battle, a constant war in the heavens fought by immortal warriors. To be chosen, one must walk the Iron Path and navigate the ocean of life with tremendous skill and honor. Jamilla had always perceived Refris as her allies in this, but today…
Jamilla’s eyes narrowed as she thought about the role of a Refri in a tribe. The Refri’s job, of course, was to guide people on the Iron Path to greatness. They interceded between the spirits of evil and the Gods to keep people free to prove themselves. Refris also enforced the rules governing the spirits and the rules that mortals must play by. That meant a careful eye for detail and a reverential meticulousness for all sacred rites. Had she missed Lung’s inattention to his herbal bouquet much longer, she would have been unable to see straight for her wedding. That would have been disastrous.
A few members of the tribe smiled at Jamilla as she walked toward them. However, they instinctively got out of her way when she got close enough that they could hear her growling breath and see her clenched fists.
The wedding, her mind raged, was one of the most important parts of life as one walks the Iron Path. At these moments of great change, one did not walk the Path, but sailed through a sea of uncertainty to a new part of the Path. The way to ensure that she would be successful in her voyage was with the best ship. A Champion Ship.
Such spiritual gifts could not be obtained without proper respect paid to the Gods. That was what a wedding was for! If a person won enough of these Champion Ships to sail the sea and walked the many crisscrossing ways of the Iron Path, they achieved great honor. Upon dying, they might even be sent to Valhallafame. It was from this Asgardian lodge of the mightiest souls that the Gods chose their soldiers for the Super Battle. There was no room for error if she sought this destiny!
The greatest blunder today was not hers, but the Gods had no patience for whiners. She had to prove that she was an unstoppable force. Starting now.
Jamilla slammed the door shut as she entered her small guest cabin. She grabbed her wedding dress and, as she put it on, proceeded to tie every knot, smooth every crease, and tighten every strap without help. Other women would have three or four handmaidens beside them. Jamilla was in no mood to any more blunders by fools. Everything had to be perfect.
A Refri had made a bad call and nearly lost her the Champion Ship; had nearly cost her the grid of Iron’s glory. Without it, she would never be chosen to stand before her opponents in the Super Battle and would not be inducted into Valhallafame.
If this wedding was to go her way, she would have to remain on guard and do whatever was necessary to make sure that Lung would ruin nothing. Stumbling out of the sauna might not be impressive, but preventing a bungling oaf of a Refri from wrecking her ceremony? That was a worthy test from the Gods, especially if she needed to maintain her decorum as the bride.
Jamilla smiled, admiring her dress. Yes indeed. She wore it perfectly. What chance did Lung have against a woman who could don a dress as complicated as this with the skill of a warrior readying themselves for battle? In fact, as she sent a quick prayer of thanks to Freya for her recovery from the Mary Jane, she also sent a prayer to Tyr requesting that he watch over her. Jamilla’s ceremony had suddenly become a battle with a cause that was terribly just: victory over one who falsely claimed to honor the Gods. As she finished her prayers, Jamilla felt a wave of confidence and strength pour into her. Perhaps she had tipped the favor of the Gods her way again.
Yes. She knew it was so.
With no further doubt of her success, Jamilla decided she would allow the handmaidens to help with her hair.
Thanks for the chapter with a further explanation of the religion. Is all of this baked into the mod? Or are you riffing off of what is already there? Either way, more hilarious undertones are shining through.
Ah, yes, the grid of iron, an essential part of any religion, practiced, no doubt, by many in current times, mainly on Sundays, but on many other days of the week too.
@Chac1 I did intend for there to be moments of humor in this AAR. As I reflect, I don't know that this AAR will be a comedy, but I think there will be an undertone of humor throughout. There are also chapters that I have planned with trigger warnings.
I had actually meant to type Refri Lung. But I was distracted by something, came back to the post and then forgot to edit. That's definitely my sloppy error.
Interesting, that this question has only come up one other time in more than two years. You have a much better story, really.
First, when I asked for the screen-name Chac supposedly it was taken so I always add a number and proceed onward. I have used a variation on this name in several fora and other gaming platforms for many years. It references the rain god of the Maya. I lived in Mexico for a time and traveled and worked in parts of Central America on and off over many years. I became fascinated with Mayan culture and visited many pyramid sites in various countries. It is just a reflection of my interest in the Maya, really.
You see, @jak7139 tumbled to the joke in the subtext before I even read the chapter!
Now, apologies if I don't respond for a time. Already my summer project is heating up and my time in AARland will be less and less for a few months likely until August or later....
