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Vinlandish Folk

By: Boars Heart


I am a Vinlander, and Tru.

Tru to my gods, and goddesses.
Tru to my kith and kin.
Tru to myself.

And yes, tru to my Folk.

My Folk are Vinlanders . . . my family name arrived on these shores over a century before the American Revolution, and descendants of those first brave souls shed blood to tame this land, and to free it.

Even so, they were not the first . . . we know, for a fact now, that long before the Italian with poor math skills, Norsemen sailed from Iceland to ply our coastal waters, establish settlements, make blot, and leave graves.

And so, thus was this land established in the soul of our ancestors.

When the time came again, we began to arrive---some with papers and grants from kings, some turned out from debtor's prisons, scabrous and typhoid, but surviving long enough to plant a paltry seed here in the new homeland, some, regrettably, in chains forced upon them, others in chains of indentured servanthood bartered for the passage to a place that called us all.

Vinland, Othila of our souls.

Now, I am 1/8th Tsilangi (Cherokee to you palefaces), so I'll not pretend our landtaking was . . . uneventful. But it was no more barbarous than was typical of the age, and much less so than much that has happened elsewhere, and since. Nor, granted, is our history as a people here without flaw. Whose is, though?

Our ancestors, surely, would have understood the right of conquest.

We are nonetheless here, and for nearly 500 years our bloodlines have mixed, until the seed of the ancestors has been distributed among nearly all of us. In the odhal lands, Folk have been returning to the old ways since the 1800s, and in Scandinavia in particular, there are many who have always kept the old customs regarding the landvaettir and huldafolk . . . but when Iceland officially recognized Asatru as a religion in the 1970s, it was here that the Folkway's most fertile soil was found.

Blood of their blood, bone of their bone. It is NOT about purity, or percentages, or vectors . . . it is about birthright.

Our gods know their children.

We belong here.

Frith, Boar's Heart