Stories thread

[TheFlax]

Coop with Braden and Ibn-Khaldun

363 AD, Summer
Somewhere in Germania

The cool morning breeze of Northeastern Europe washed over Visimar's leathery skin as he watch his people ready themselves for the long journey West. Women and children were assembling around large wagons drafted by oxen, while the men, all of them armed, assembled into large fighting companies. They were leaving these lands for the Huns were coming at their back and he knew his people would be swept away like the others before them. So they ran... No, it was not running he reminded himself, it was seeking new opportunities. Some of his people had accused him of running, of being a coward. Then now rested in a shallow grave and he was still standing, he was right.

If anyone could defeat the Huns, it would be the Roman Empire and he would lead his people to them, to seek shelter and opportunity in their lands. Yet, to reach Roman territory, they would have to cross the lands of several people, none of whom would look kindly to his intrusion. At his core, Visimar was not a man of words, but he did recognize their worth. The Vandals didn't have the luxury of squabbles with nearby tribes, not now at least.

Oza had been called to the Chieftains longhouse urgently, preparations for the exodus had already started. Younglings yelped and scrapped as only children did when confused with the changes around them. Womenfolk gathered bedding and meagre possessions...to travel light is to leave much of what you call "home" behind, but this did not phase Oza. Long since had he left all trappings of "home" behind, no warm and comely maiden busied herself gathering his bedding and possessions, he was a warrior of no home and no love, loyal to tribe and Chieftain...a scout, a spy.

He waited now at the back of Visimar's longhouse, concealed by gloom and squatting down amongst furs and cushions. He was to observe, listen and understand what Visimar was to say to Duva. It was of great import Oza knew but of what exactly he knew nought, very one knew they were to travel soon...some said West away from the aggressive Hunic tribes whilst others believed either South or North.

Speculation. Foolish at that, this eve though Oza would find out and know his tasks ahead. Oza and Visimar were of the Silingi, this spoke volumes of the pledge Oza had took.

Now he waited...all would be revealed soon enough.

"My king," Duva said and bowed before Visimar. "People who are coming from east are telling that the Huns are getting closer every day. If we want to avoid being crushed by them just like hundreds of other tribes we must move soon."

Duva sighed. He knew that Visimar was probably better informed than him. Duva sighed again and then continued.

"Most of the chieftains and other important people are waiting in the Council tent," he said while pointing towards a large decorated tent in the middle of the camp. "They want to know what are your plans for the future. We can leave from these lands but exactly where? How far and how long to we have to run from the Huns?"

"As far as it takes." Visimar groaned at his own words. "I'll find a new home for my people, I promised as much, haven't I?"

The powerful man immediately shook his head, indicating to his envoy that the question didn't merit an answer. He sighed, before resting a hand on the hilt of his sword. Many would take this as a threat, but for Visimar it was simply an old habit.

"Duva, the situation is grimmer that most of you know. We don't have time to negotiate lengthily with the tribes between us and the Roman Empire. You will go ahead, tell them we wish to pass and gather information. If by the time my people reach them, they are not ready to let us pass, then I will destroy. Make sure they understand."

Easier said than done, thought Duva.

"I will do my best, my King!" he said to Visimar. "But if I may, then I'll go now and make some last preparations before the journey."

Duva bowed and turned to leave.

Oza waited until Duva had left…Visimar called him without turning “You heard then Oza?”

Oza emerged from the darkness behind Visimar, coalescing from darkness to light.

“I did my King, So, what would you have me do Lord? My task ahead would be difficult I feel.”

"Duva might fail, if so we must be ready. Go with him to the Sarmatians, take note of their numbers, their positions. If we must strike, it will have to decisive, we cannot afford to linger."

Oza understood and nodded thoughtfully.

"I will make it so my King. Fearsome creatures these Sarmatians but I will gather all I can and do all I can to ease our peoples trials."

Oza bowed again before moving off once more into the back of the Longhouse...he left though the darkness and out of a rearward entrance to avoid detection.

He gathered his horse and pack, gave the busying camp one last look of longing before raising himself into his saddle. He set of West, better to keep a wide berth between him and Duva lest Duva become aware of his shadow.