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Usipeti

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Remark:
The Usipeti are from now on no longer a clan you can choose from. From now on the Usipeti are seen as a UK player clan and are treated as such. This means that existing Usipeti characters are still very welcome to come and play.

We are traders and nomads from over sees. Great seafarers from behind the mist. We came here not so long ago, by means of portals. Mystical ways through which the Fae trap us. Keep us here for games we have no knowledge of, until we reached the city of Culhaven. There we found the end of the mystic doorway. The doorways are not there to trick us into these lands, but are necessary to in the ways of the wyrd. Here we made our heartfire as the heartfire always is treasured and come with us. As it brings warmth, food, brings people together and provide us a way to speak to our ancestors. It's a way to remember who we are and what we stand for. Our family lines are important as our ways of trade. As we trade in silver, gold and wanted merchandize with trinkets and eyes they trade with tales of heroes and villains. A trade that does not make them wealthy, but a trade that makes sure that the old ways are remembered and followed.

In these lands we found ourselves part of the wyrd that makes these lands. In Culhaven we found that the weavers of tales are nothing more than the spinners of conflict. As we trade in goods like furs, they trade in heroes. We have entered a land in which class or blood is sufficient to mark the lands and to stain the gods. We, the Usipeti, witnessed and followed these old ways and through this ordeal, we came out stronger, more determined, perhaps even powerful. We faced metal and spell alike, saw with our own eyes Balor and his mighty army and blooded on the same lands the now Ard-Ri blooded. We saw and witnessed and by doing so traded memories and heraldry in the old ways of the wyrd. We, Usipeti, know that we belong here and that the lands have welcomed us. Still we keep dear to what we are and to our ways. Now we may enter our own trade of tales and achievements and perhaps it will be enough to see our ancestors again, but one way or another, our names will be remembered.

As we defended the gates of Cuhaven we felt how wyrd accepted us into their tales. With every drop of sweat and blood we began to write our names into the mystic song as if we were bards. We battled foe after foe, crushing shields and armour. We took life after life until life itself began to spit blood into our faces. Never did we meet such horrific creatures, so willing to kill us all and on the far side of this tide of armour Balor stood, tall and fierce, his face darkened as if the sun dared not touch it. It was the day that Cascorach, leader of the lands and all its people, fought as legends should have fought against the might of its enemy and in the end his reign of seven years was ended and he gave back, what the earth had given him. We, Usipeti witnessed and all who witnessed were blessed to be part of the story of his name and kneeling the earth blessed those present and there we understood that we were no longer traders, but sons of Mill, destined to rule and by doing so to take part in the songs of bards.

Our new king, Oswald was rewarded kingship in the lands to the east. Lands cursed because of black shields stupidities, but the new appointed High King Bull, formally a black shield, knew that this curse had to be lifted, for if not, he, Chosen by the Lands, was not worthy of that title. We can only assume that our achievements were proof of this task to come. Oswald, king of the Usipeti, destined to lift a curse so black and poisoned, that tales are woven already in his journey towards them. We shall go there and place our heartfire in these lands and achieve what must be achieved. We shall light the skies with tales of heroism, we shall start trade with the eastern lands and we shall govern the tribes living there.

Our journey is set by morning mists, as if the Fae themselves watch us with their twisted minds. We have heard the tales of the east, of famine, of death, of sickness and bare lands. We have spoken with some Norse who have travelled there and have seen the terror in their eyes. They speak of monsters and creatures long forgotten. They have seen things they cannot explain. They have walked the land and with every step felt death touching their feet. Some of their man died by strange illness, wounds that infested with black rot as if cursed by the Gods themselves. Only a few tribes have remained there, some have not seen other humans for years. Rumours from the Menapii, the only tribe they could find willing to talk, speak of others who roam these lands. Others with tales of horrific cultures, evolved by this curse of the lands. And if that was not enough the Norse lost three ships of five to warrior bands of Fomor, hiding in the ice, just of the cost of the main lands. As ever, these creatures of the sea have business with the new lands of our king.

We spoke with our ancestors through the heartfire and they have told us little. Perhaps they do not want a part in this new destiny, as they speak behind the veil of the living. Perhaps they know what awaits and prepare for our arrival. And so we must in time, but not know, for we are Usipeti, Leaders of the cursed lands of Oswald, king of our people. We have summoned the other tribes for a moot and there Oswald will see what truth lies in the tales spoken. Let us muster our weapons, our tents and belongings. Let us speak of our tales and march towards our destined lands. Let our fierce warriors, clothed in armour of chain and leather, walk steady the road of destiny. Let our ovate spin tales for the dead so we might enter their after battle is done, let our King ready his tent so his servants may pledge loyalty there and let us travel to the east, where destiny awaits our call.

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