I am wargear. The Smith has crafted me, according to the Muse’s melodic instruction. A sole purpose, the protection and furtherance of my Kin. Each blow that I am doomed to gift, each blow that I am destined to receive, will test the integrity of helm and blade. The skill of the Smith will not be brought into question, nor will the intoxicating poesis of the Muse’s vision-gift. Yet how will the gear weather time and the elements? Only the Raven may tell..
These were the words carried within my heart-soul as the solemn pilgrimage was made to meet my doom. Wheels long set in motion, held within the memory of my being. A life offered for the continuance of a People, a life given in order that Truth may continue to be known and served.
The Old Ones, our gods and ancestors, the Headkinsman of my People have named myself as his, Robin-the-dart’s, appointed Tanist and Successor, as She wills it. Tradition carries on, just as those who have gone before us, Robert Cochrane to Evan John Jones and “John” to Robin-the-dart currently, then when Wyrd dictates, Robin-the-dart to myself. Each have found that they are mutually Other to each other, bound inextricably through incarnation and beyond, truly there is no separation. Instead, there is an assured completion, a continuation of Being that provides a stability and strength across the ages. We, Men of Goda, are Her servants all, Kings, Rascals and Fools.
Long may the People serve the Light of Truth.
Flags, Flax and Fodder,
Ulric “Gestumblindi” Goding
Tanist of the Clan of Tubal Cain
Níwe Dæg – Níwe Léoht – Níwe Hopan