Raskab’s Records

^{Excerpts from the personal diary}

Gehe zur deutschen Version: Raskabs Aufzeichnungen

Raskab was born during the Exodus (Year 23 of Exile) and never knew the old homeland. He spent his youth aboard the ship Brimkar before transferring to the flagship as an adult to serve there as a defender. Throughout his youth he watched the ships attempt to push into warmer regions, yet neither people nor materials could withstand the heat. Time and again they were forced to turn back, repair ships, and test new constructions, only to fail again months later. The following excerpts come from his private diary.

Excerpt I – First steps with the rune armors (Year 38 of Exile)

The heat is our greatest enemy. The sea gives us food, but it also takes our strength. We, the frost‑born, are not made for this burning sun. Every step beneath it costs more strength than a fight against ten foes in the ice.

But today I wore an armor — an armor inscribed with runes that carry cooling magic. It fits tightly to the body, shielding me not only from the suns but also from injury. A strange feeling, being completely sealed off from the outside world; I barely perceive it anymore, except that I can see it and interact with it.

Elkin says this is only the beginning. He speaks of further runes — ones that will let us fly, that will create arrows of ice, that will strengthen our weapons. The others hesitate. But I am certain: those who do not dare will be left behind.

My unit grumbles about the armors, but once they wear them, their opinion changes instantly. The soothing cold is a gift, and when we return from our scouting mission, they do not want to take the armors off at all.

Excerpt II – Runes for the ships (Year 46 of Exile)

There was a certain boundary we could not cross for long. It was not visible, but it was unmistakable. As soon as our fleet remained beyond this invisible line for too long, everyone struggled with the heat. We needed a solution.

We were trapped between the old homeland — destroyed and conquered by the enemy — and the heat of the northern latitudes. For 45 long years we sailed more or less in circles, returning to the ice boundary to gather food, then trying again elsewhere. Meanwhile, the mages searched for a solution in their own way.

Four days ago they inscribed all ships with special runes and assigned at least one mage to each vessel. The runes envelop the ships in the same soothing cold as the rune armors. However, the ship materials are not suited for constant energy storage, as Elkin explained to me, so a mage must recharge the runes regularly.

But since last night we have passed through the heat barrier — and so far without any problems.

Excerpt III – Arrival in Vintergard (Year approx. 69 of Exile = Year 0 N.E.)

We were at sea for so long that solid ground feels foreign beneath our feet. But we have arrived. Once the heat no longer troubled us aboard the ships, we were able to cross the hot latitudes and discover a new ice boundary in the north. It is different from our homeland; here the ice drifts on the water, yet we have found a vast, stable ice landscape.

Everything is chaotic. No one has ever built a house. Of the elders who once could, none are alive or they are too old to be of help. Everyone wants to claim a place quickly, but there are no roads, no structure — only ice, fractured, yet from a distance appearing like a flat plain. The ships are our only building material. The first attempts fail: walls collapse, roofs cave in, the cold wears people down. Old stories speak of round houses, so we try that. Many attempts fail as well, but eventually some dwellings hold and offer shelter from wind and weather.

To survive in the ice, one must stand together. A people without order will break. Truths that became clear to us quickly and by which we now live. The ship communities must be dissolved; we must become one people again. Elkin agrees with me. This applies to me as well. I am 46 years old — time to find a wife and start a family.

Excerpt IV – The birth of Tarjan (Year 4 N.E.)

The night lay over everything like heavy snow. No sound pierced the icy air. Only Alvena’s faint, brittle breathing. And the trembling of my hands, which I could not control.

Then — a sound. Not a cry, not a whimper. A guttural, frosty snort and cough, and only then came the cry. He was here. Small. Almost too small. His skin: pale as hoarfrost. His eyes: still closed. I looked at him and wondered whether the frost would harden him or simply break him.

Alvena whispered, exhausted: “What shall he be called?”

I had many names. Strong ones. Ancient ones. Names of men who had tamed the ice. But they felt like foreign voices in my mouth.

I did not search for sound. I searched for meaning. Targajan. “Targa” means “small round shield,” and “Jan” means “warrior” in the old script. Targajan it should have been, but Alvena thwarted me. She disliked the name and changed it to Tarjan. We had a heated argument, but in the end I yielded.

I had prepared a small bone plaque to record his future name. My handwriting is not the best, but I carved Tarjan cleanly.

I tied the plaque to a cord, placed it around his body, and felt overwhelming pride. My first son. The 69 days begin now — the weeks in which the cold decides whether he will stay.

Excerpt V – Building the fortresses (Year 22 N.E.)

One house is not enough. One city is not enough. Our warriors need a bastion, a place to grow, to learn, and to fight.

Virkin. That shall be its name — the fortress‑city of the rune warriors. Far to the east, near the great ice wall we have named Jodunskuld, isolated from the rest of the world but strong enough to withstand any attack. It will take years to build. For now we live in small igloos or tents of whale hide and bone. But one day its walls will be made of pure ice and magic.

The first stone is laid. The first shield raised. We will not be weak.

Excerpt VI – Training the new rune warriors (Year 25 N.E.)

I see too many young men die. They fight bravely, but without thought. The rune armors give them power, but not wisdom. Snovingas and other creatures forgive no mistakes.

Elkin and I have made a decision: the rune warriors will no longer simply fight. They will learn — and they will grow.

From now on there will be a structured training: three years of magical study, three years of combat training, three years under icy conditions. Only the toughest will endure. Whoever passes the final trial becomes a true rune warrior. Whoever falls, falls with honor.

Excerpt VII – Growing old (Year 29 N.E.)

The snow that once covered my hair now lies within it. My body has long ceased to be as swift as it once was. My muscles burn with every strike. The rune armor, once my second skin, feels heavier now.

When I look at the young warriors, I see myself. I was like them — inexperienced, impatient, full of anger at the world. Today I see differently. The world cannot be conquered. It must be understood.

One day I will no longer be able to fight. But my legacy — Virkin, the rune warriors, the armors, the city — will remain. I am not immortal. But my deeds are.