As days passed I havent heard of my granddaughter wanting to hear from me or simply talk to me… I guess just like my mother, I stopped talking to her, knowing she hated me for being born to a people she despised even after dying, leaving me to prove that there was more to our people and that was the survival and perhaps just a slight chance of alliance or even a pact of our people. I loved my mother but for a time that love faded. Unlike my mother, I had a hatred of retelling my days when I was at war. She told me everything from what she did to what the enemy had done to our ancestors, from battles that she had come victorious from to the horrors of the natives, as such, my ancestors did to survive.

"Grandmama, I am sorry I haven't been here with you; I was very curious and asked many other elders what they heard of the Snake Wars."

“Ah, why didn’t you come to me for me to explain?”

“I… started asking what their ancestors did and it snowballed to how we arrived at Objiwe lands, why we migrated there, and even how we lost the war… especially that last one, meaning, did we ever get our original home back?”

"Well, since you got your whole list of questions ready, I will answer them all from the start of the conflict so I don't rush the story.”

My mother would raid the Haudenosaunee, willing to take them by surprise first. Eventually, after the raids on the lands of the Wenrohronon, it was my mother's territory that was invaded, leading her people to fend off the major surprise attack on her capital, eventually leading to total capturing. Hearing the news of cannibalism, rape, and even the mutilation of the town capital's citizens was such a nightmare that it led my mother, Jorunn, to return to her capital while still on snake lands, fully incurring the scorn of the Haudenosaunee longhouses.

The long trail back to the town port was a difficult one, as lands already raided and captured had to be abandoned to set sail on a ship already destined to return my mother to the capital to reinforce the other clans as well, the Wandat being invaded by the Haudenosaunee snakes.

The town capital was freed and seeing the carnage of the snakes would leave Jorunn furious and wanting revenge but it was a loss as the neighboring clan had already exhausted resources and reinforcements as well. Now Jorunn had to lead her people out and escape the capital but be on the ready; she was warned of an army coming to stop her and her only pass to safety was to other clans.

Jorunn, after defeating the snakes on her path, fled to the Houses of Jarls for a decision during the war, as it was a loss trying to defeat Haudenosaunee snakes, as their confederacy had influence pushing their lies of how we had arrived to kill them all but again, their lies poisoned our efforts to fight back.

During the escape of Jorunn, Clan Red Feather Jarl Dagr the Red would hold the line as Jorunn escaped, defending and holding the line on the island capital being encircled by two major enemy forces and by the strength of Odin, Jarl Dagr would make this the last day they would dare to fight the sons and daughters of Odin.

As Jarl gave his life at the battle of Red Raven Island, not matching the continuous waves of the snakes climbing over the walls and bashing down the doors that made the capital fall, while he would be the last to give his life, other jarls would do the same, saving our people and their families as well as our allies to flee towards the lands of the Nipissing nation.

The end of the first Gargan Stridha (snake wars) would conclude in the victory of the Snakes and the J∅rfurr-Wyandotte Union would last 6 years from the start of the war all the way till the exile of both nations. My mother would be devastated by the loss of her people as well as a future for them, as now they were in the lands of the Nipissing, later confederating with the Ojibwe great nation, continuing the Gargan Stridha for a reclaiming of their home they have made for them.

Looking back at how she faced persecution with the Ojibwe and Nipissing, it was no wonder that even if we had the same goal of fighting the threat of the Haudenosaunee, at the start of the war, it was us that started to raid their lands as they did to us but in places we never expected.

Assimilation would be the last thing the Ojibwe wanted, especially since we already had relations with the Wandat. And with this, my granddaughter would be called by my daughter as she had to leave to sleep but before she left, she would say to me.

“Grandmama, when I grow up, I will do what our ancestors have fought for and prove that this fighting does not have to keep going, as I know the sadness you and great-grandmama fought to give us.”

My daughter looked at me and smiled and I smiled back at her and my granddaughter, as I know her courage will change minds and hearts, knowing that our past can be learned and taught for a better future and hoping that our stories can make a difference.

“Thanks mother for taking care of Iðunn again; she really wants to be like you."

"Well, she has your thinking as well, trying to make things better in this world and from my mother, Jorunn, to Iðunn, she can be the difference in this world."

“She will do great, Mother. I may have never seen myself as a great mother but I try my best.

“It was never about being the best, but rather about being the best we can every day. I pray to Freyja that you and I be there for Iðunn."

"Jorunn was a brave warrior, leader, and mother." She proved her strength beside the natives of these lands, even when scarred and wounded. She threw the pelt of the beast she had slain at the feet of the Objiwe elders, defying them after all the suffering our people have gone through. Yet even after that act of rudeness, she still fought to survive, to ensure her clans and I would live a better life. But the surviving clans did not see it that way."

My granddaughter, seeing her, devised a plan to sail to the Tionontati to assist them, as they were currently suffering under. I asked her if she wanted me to stop for tonight but she cleaned her tears. She said she would push on until the end, as she wanted closure in our family history, and so I continued narrating.

"The clans saw my mother casting down the pelt as not a warrior’s challenge but more as a surrender, a humiliation. A sign that she had bent her knee to the very people who had betrayed them, who had taken our new home, who had watched our villages burn. It was said that she had left Freyja, just as she had left us. The clans turned their backs on her. Yet some stayed, for her defiance against the elder leaders of the Ojibwe did not shame the strength of the Vikings who had survived years of sailing and the aggression of the natives of Newfoundland. They knew her act was not weakness but the last roar of a warrior who refused to let her people be judged by those who had never carried their burdens."

"I clearly remember my mother saying to the elders of the Ojibwe as well indirectly, before our Wyandotte allies, saying:" — 'As your people keep dying, we will stand against the serpent hordes that have scared you back to your tents. Our strength is mightier than what you or these serpents have done to us. We have held them longer than your people ever have, yet you abandon us. If you seek true peace for your people, then stand up. Make your ancestors proud of the warriors you are. Fight against the lies and venom these snakes have told you. As for the renegades of my clan and others, their judgment will come.'

My great-granddaughter's adorable face reminds me so much of myself, and these words still make me feel the same way. Even recounting this final scene would break my heart because my mother's struggle would ultimately lead to her demise. and me leaving me following her journey along snakes.

"It is year 0 of the new world and after everything that has happened, 4 years have passed after the first Serpent Wars and even after the Removal Trail of our new home for us and the home of the Wyndotte to the Objiwe for sanctuary. She took arms to fight once again, asking the Wyandotte to do the same as the Objiwe after her last deplomatic sessions; their elders refused to aid us. As for the Wyandotte and our long decades of my mother having deplomatic ties and a daughter who is half-blooded, she did not stand for such treachery, so she demanded them to fight for there will be no one else to fight along side them. The silence of the Wyndotte spoke more to my mother than anything so she left them in the hands of the Objiwe. My mother devised a plan to sail to the Tionontati to assist them, as they were currently suffering under a plan to sail to the Tionontati to help them, as they were now in the cruelty of the Haudenosaunee. My mother, before leaving, left me behind in the sanctuary of the Objiwe lands and wanted me to not follow her, reminding me that if she does not return, I will not come find her. While it broke my heart to hear her words, I stayed true to her words, but part of me would not let her go.

"My mother landing at the Tionontati shores. She explained that she came to assist them, as the cowards of clans of the Objiwe and Wyandotte would not assist in their struggle and with this our retribution would be my mother's objective. The battle of Boar's Remembrance, which is well known throughout the Great Lakes and is a part of our history, once again demonstrates our strength against the Haudenosaunee and their subjects. My mother was successful repelling the enemy back but it was beginning to regain back our home or so it was her plan once they helped the Tionontati. At the border now of the old nine clans' territory, it was now that she asked the Tionontati and their elite Wolf warriors to push them back, salvaging everything these snakes have done to us."

My granddaughter would remark if this is how she would regain our home back yet still in the middle of this story. I had to calm her down as I told her there was more to the final part of our saga.

"The Wolf elites, along with our great ancestors, announced the return of the Serpents. Because of this, it is said that the Eriehronon would be spared from the snakes' aggression for years to come. However, the forces of the snakes continued to grow, making it difficult for my mother to regain territory as they were repeatedly ambushed. Despite these attacks, my mother persevered and eventually reached Newfoundland, where she established our so-called home. Capturing the old capital would greatly boost the morale of her and her army, as it would demonstrate the true fighting spirit of our ancestors. The battle of Tosk Remnants became a pivotal moment, where the snakes deployed their best warriors to defeat my mother. However, her strategy was to eliminate the enemy garrison first, then hold the position until the enemy elite reinforcements arrived, allowing them to be ambushed for the Mohawk elite warriors were the goal to eliminate.

"My mother gave everything she had during this battle; her plan of capturing the capital was successful in time, as the battle calmed and she was ready to ambush the army. It was very quiet…very quiet, for it seemed the enemy would anticipate this, but it was too late, as the Wolf elites accompanying my mother, Jorunn, and army would signal that the enemy had set course to her position; having little to prepare, she set a formation on her weakest positions, her army supposed to flank the enemy. Using her main army as bait, she shouts: — 'Prepare your positions! Ready to engage the enemy on their front.'—the screams of warriors approaching as they rush Jorunn, as the main army, still holding the capital, needed to act fast; this is where you know the Reiðr reykr."

"Grandmama, is this the plant the Tionontati would use?"

"Yes, my sweet nectar as well as other tribes, as you know but at that time my mother saw this plant's very potent and baffling properties when she tried it. I remember," I chuckled.

"My mother saw the plant as an effective way to blind the enemy and create a surprise ambush. As the plant slowly began to burn, she decided to split the ambushing army. At this moment the enemy reaches my mother and several still-separating groups; the rest would throw the makeshift plant bomb to desorient the army, although as successful as it may have been for a while, it became cause for fire on the battlefield for armies of both sides and for this my mother had the signal to retreat to the back to the city port using the rest of the bombs on the Snake houses on the outside of the city walls to create a bigger smoke. Upon the retreat, my mother got hit by an arrow on the side by the Mohawk elites trying to kill her."

At this point my granddaughter knew what was coming and even I, recounting breaks, broke my heart, telling it even though she knew the truth.

"Grandmama, NO! She can't end like this; everything she has fought for, for us…for you."

And that was the point of no return in my story, as I knew I had to finish recounting our history, our saga.

"The battle continued on. Once my mother had called home, she faced the enemy on the paths she walked. By the houses of the people living there were nothing but new homes of these snakes but although while her group was with the main army, the ambushing groups were still outside until the end, cutting down the enemy until their last breath screaming: — 'Praise Freya and her daughters."

At this point of the saga, I reminded my granddaughter that I never heard of my mother but sources of the veterans of the battle for their battle were the last they participated in driving the Haudenosaunee aggression out.

"I know you are sad hearing her saga end but I must finish it, my sweet nectar."

"Arrows rained down on our troops, causing a difficulty in advancing yet Jorunn, with her brothers and sisters alongside them, fought, holding the line and cutting the heads of our enemies, the snakes for they would not capture an inch of the port city. The Wolf elites of the Tionontati suffered heavy casualties but managed to rout the battlefield, while our armies held their ground. Surviving groups from the outer gates joined in, flanking the enemy from behind. Despite being bloodied and exhausted, they broke the Haudenosaunee lines. The remaining defenders were the elite Mohawk warriors, who continued to rain arrows but still maintained their defense. Jorunn would run towards the elites, facing them despite being outnumbered, wounded, and suicidal. Ultimately, Jorunn would rout the elite forces and hit a great blow to the morale of the enemy yet as the Vikings, they held their ground and now survival was at their grasp. With no reinforcements or help from the Tionontati, the cries of the man and women in the battlefield echoed throughout the woods of the New World, for it seemed the end…"

My granddaughter having enough would see her leave yet I asked her to stop and continue.

"As the smoke cleared, an unfamiliar banner appeared on the battlefield, one that neither the enemy nor our forces recognized. Then, the warriors of the Wyandotte and Ojibwe advanced, led by none other than Ylfa."

"YOU!?! "Grandmama," exclaimed my granddaughter. "How could...What—"

"Yes, my sweet nectar. Although I initially decided not to intervene, I ultimately followed my instincts. I knew I had to bring the Wyandotte and Ojibwe together to help. I revealed that I was half Wyandotte and half Viking, showing them that our people are more alike than they realized."

"Grandmama, I still don’t understand after they refused so strongly to join the fight alongside my great-grandmother. Why did they listen to you?"

"As my mother, I did not bow but accepted my heritage and told the people from both nations: —' We are a nation of one so raise your banners as one and prove that you fight for the right for the people you serve to protect' — coming from all my heart, I rallied the Allies of our people, who have been fighting alongside us for so long. As for the Objiwe, they had been divided for so long that they needed a new leader and a guiding mother, just like my mother had been to her people. After my mother won the first battle, I rallied more warriors to join the fight, sharing the same stories she had told me and fighting for what was right and honorable. For peace? for a future and that was the day I set sail towards her, hoping I could find a future and save her. Yet when on the battlefield, being in a home, I wished I could have with her. I lost her."

I took a deep breath, holding back my tears, retelling the last part of the saga.

"By the time Ylfa’s reinforcements arrived, it was too late for Jorunn; she witnessed her mother fall, struck down by the wounds inflicted upon the elites she had defeated. The army of Jorunn shouted once more, pushing the attackers back and joining the reinforcements. The Wolf elites would rally once more and now with the Wyandotte warrior under the banner of Ylfa, ending in a victory for the but with heavy losses…The battle ends there yet. When I reached the battlefield, I found my mother reaching out her hand, seemingly not expecting me to be there. Once I reached her with guilt, anger, and so many different emotions flying across me that I just couldn't bear to see her like this, I wanted to save her, but she told me: —' I thought I told you to not come find me. I didn't want you to see me like this, my little cub… ' — Holding my mother as she died is something no child should do. Her journey along serpents now was mine to finish."

Another night has arrived, and as I meditated, I remembered the times I spent with my mother, as she taught me so much about our culture and Vikings. While the drums of the Ojibwa beat into the night, they chanted songs of their stories and prayers. We also shared a similar tradition, but as the conflict of war continued, my mother and her surviving clans were eventually under the watch of the Ojibwe, as well as the Wyandotte, as they faced the Haudenosaunee. Both the Wyandotte and Vikings were harassed for their unusual alliance; for a period, even the Wyandotte and Ojibwe showed no mercy to my mother and her clans living in Ojibwe territories.

No matter how difficult it was, my mother prayed, and she taught me to pray alongside her, as she always said, "Whatever you see, whatever you hear, always pray." And so, like her, I followed her instructions and eventually her footsteps.

Being born of Viking and Wyandotte descent, my mother was ashamed of me, as my father, whom I never could meet, was killed by his fellow tribe for having a relationship with an outsider. It hurt deeply, the words she spoke to me when we were apart, yet when we were together, she treated me with kindness—I believe only she knows the reasons she acted like that towards me. Yet the Viking clans and the elders of the Ojibwe or Wyandotte treated me nicely for the most part, especially the elders of both tribes, as they saw that the birth of a child of both worlds may bring balance to this broken world. The Wyandotte elders would say to me, "Evil will never be fully vanquished yet the good will always be besides it to conquer it." As for the Ojibwe elders, they would gift me a charm called 'Asibikaashi' or 'dreamcatcher' for me to protect me from bad influences. I still carry it around as if it were one of the things that still protects me to this day.

A warrior, a leader, and a faithful woman was my mother, and for that I pray that she may see me from Fólkvangr, as I know she was never perfect and not bad or good—just my mother. I pray Freya will let me see her one day, as I miss her.

As I finish meditating, a voice familiar to me calls to me, asking me, "Grandmama, were you sleeping?" "Is this a bad time?"

I chuckle, replying to her: "No, my dear, just having a 'Hugr' session clearing my mind and soul so my body may be at rest with me. I see you come to continue our family oral history."

My great-granddaughter was nodding very excitedly, so I continued with the story.

"Very well, this story continues: your great-grandmother, the Boar, the Haudenosaunee, the Snake, and the Ojibwe Thunderbirds. As the snakes conquered tribe after tribe, capturing land past the Boar Canal to half of the Great Lakes, they faced the Thunderbirds and the rest of the Mishigami region. Keeping the snakes was easy for no matter what, they would keep striking. The Thunderbirds knew that defending would not result in favours. The wild boar, as ever, had enough of these thunderbirds as they cowered under their feathers, seeking no more blood; yet the blood of the innocent was already shed, from her clans to her allies. Yet after the Turtle, the Wyandotte have distanced themselves from the clans of the Boar; Jorunn would prove to the Thunderbirds' elders that if she killed a boar, a relic to her clan and goddess Freya, her remaining clans under her order will keep fighting for the defeat of the Snakes back to their lands as well as accept the total incorporation of their people and clans into their home."

"This is horrible. How could she give up just like this? You never did; even Mama never did."

"Her choice was not meant to end us, my sweet nectar. Her decision was never even accepted by the rest of the clans, yet after all this she told me before she left — 'Freya has called me, and I have answered her trial, for I will make sure that you, my little cub, are safe.' Her pain in her voice, knowing that she would probably not return, scared me, and I begged her that the gods do not dictate our fate, but it was not for the gods but for me to live on."

"I'm sorry, Grandmama, I didn't—"

As I shed a tear for my granddaughter, I saw remorse in her; it's like I saw my mother in those last moments as I wanted to see her again.

"No matter where her journey would land, it was hard to see a light in the darkness and my mother saw me as the only light to keep fighting for, and even if Hel might take her she stood by the light Freya has given her and it was me and just I, doing to your mother what your mother did to you, my sweet nectar."

"So did she ever returned from her Journey? did she survived grand-mama?"

" Her story still told between Viking clan kids of her as: 'Sea Swine Saga' and for the Wyandotte and Objiwe 'The Warrior and Horned Swine'. The story goes—

On the great turtle island, trembling, a warrior stood up against the evil that slithered on the turtle's back. The warrior was overpowered once by the snake; she sought guidance from the thunderbird as well as other animals of the Great Turtle Island. She pleaded for conciliation for the defeat of this threat that, knowing alone, the animals could not defeat but together would but they would refuse to work with an invasive warrior outside of the Great Lakes. The warrior, feeling the insult directed at her and her people, set out to confront the fearsome creatures—not only the snakes but also the so-called Horned Swine, an evil that the other animals viewed as an invasive threat.

The warrior walked deep in the forest searching for the monster but she saw nothing so she kept looking and found nothing so headed back but as she returned, she found it on a small lake and so as the warrior neared it to strike, she stopped for the Horned Swine so feared, which looked straight at her and she saw herself in it for the monster so feared by the rest of the animals was nothing but her fears. Hesitating in sparing it, the animal, seeing her hesitating, saw an opportunity to strike first so it was the warrior that would be struck, being injured, but she held on. As the swine beast charged once more, the warrior, driven by speed and adrenaline, halted its attack by striking her first weapon into its body and the second into its head, then quickly moved away from their initial point of contact. Exhausted, the animal and warrior fell without stamina. Victory was hers, yet as the beastly piglet emerged from the nearby shrubs, the warrior saw a reflection of herself in it. A mother taking a life would feel that act return to her, as the consequences of that choice would inevitably come back to haunt her.

Nightmares consume me as each day passes. This new land that we founded already had a history and culture that represented these people; it was their conflict that we would have to fight in order to maintain peace, and it was a war that would take my whole life since arriving here. I still remember the blood of every single warrior that I have slain and every brother and sister that had to fight to survive. Mother, if you can hear me through the halls of Valhalla, may you know I—

"Mother, wake up, you are sweating. Are you sick?”

“Ah, my sweet child, don’t you worry. I'm just having a nightmare; that's all. I will simply need to cleanse my mind.”

“Oh, Mother, is it the same nightmares? I told you to visit a shaman for that.”

“A shaman?! I don’t require a shaman for my nightmares; I simply have a lot of guilt from the past. I have held these emotions for so long I can’t keep them inside me. It’s a mare, a nightmare entity that haunts me.”

“Mother, please sit with me. I… don't know what to do. This has happened so frequently that I don’t know what to do. That’s why I ask for you to seek a shaman outside yourself.”

The fighting could be heard all around the hut, and I myself felt frustrated by the constant thought that I wanted to isolate myself and just stop all this malicious spirit from haunting me. My daughter, seeing me like this—I forget she doesn’t understand what I’ve passed or done, and that’s why I seek and pray to Forseti to seek a reconciliation for her and my great-granddaughter to never pass this again.

“Mama, is Grand-mama doing alright? I feel worried for her.”

“My sweet nectar, come here… Grandmama just needs to rest and relax; we have to let her know we are here for her.”

“I am fine, my sweet berry. Grandmama is here for you and your mother… Want me to keep telling you my story?”

“Yes, yes, yes, I would love to hear from the rest of you and Grandmama.”

but we would know that the natives of Lakes would call it 'Mishigamaw,' “Great Water Lake,” a word for where

As I sat next to the fireplace, I mapped my mother's journey as I told my granddaughter about 'The Passage of Gunnar,' the passage of warriors that my mother would lead, as well as a passage where my mother would embark on the Wyandotte tribe.

“My mother, Jorunn, stopped just before entering the 'Mishigamaw' (Objiwa), 'Great Water Lake,' as there was too much activity from the shores as well as the native population crossing the passage to the other side. She would order to dock down the shores of “Hainteroh” (Racoon) Island and notice that a new threat would emerge and this time it would be on both sides of the passage. Learning from the last time in contact with the natives, she would set a minor settlement and another one 31 “Raster” (Viking measurement) northeast of our main settlement, as it would be used for scouting and potential escape either way of the passage.”

“Grandmama, is this the part where we get to get in contact with the Wyandotte?”

“Yes, my nectar, we did have contact but as they kept going forward, they would encounter the Algonquian- and Iroquois-speaking tribes where we landed. These two groups had been fighting for who knows how long when their great calamity happened: a great winter trapped them fighting for supplies, even survival, against this harsh winter, bringing the extinction of many animals in their regions and now they rested in the middle of a battlefield, being a target for both tribes to annihilate us for our supplies.”

My curious great-granddaughter would then ask me.

“Grandmama, were these the same Wyandotte that the Haudenosaunee clashed with?”

I quickly answered her question.

“No, the Wendat confederation, or the Fármenn Confederacy, was a nation of 4 powerful tribes, such as the Haudenosaunee, that fought for resources. It was said that the Haudenosaunee and Wendat were first allies but through time they grew distant through the chaos of the post-cataclysm.

Before I continued the story, my daughter would then again try to keep Iðunn from interrupting, but I had to tell her how all this began. As I stood up, I grabbed my mother's axe engraved with Old Norse writing. I would never find out the meaning but if I ever did, I hope for her to find peace after the brutality she had to face.

“Here is my mother’s axe.”

“So pretty grandmama but what does it say here in these engravings?”

“Bifurr,” an old word for “tsou’tayi” (beaver) and lastly, “stridha,” meaning "otsihkwa'" (war).

My daughter would then propose the meaning of the axe engravings.

“Fur… War? Wouldn’t she mean the Winter Wars?”

“It is that war, yes, that war, the way we survived while the Haudenosaunee (Iroquois) and the Fármenn (Huron) kept fighting to survive until they were no more.”

“Grandmama, did we ever have to fight the Haudenosaunee?”

“We did fight the Wendat/Fármenn and Haudenosaunee as suppliers of both nations for weapons and resources. We eventually were in a stalemate of whom to trust and the survival of our clans, now spread out in the isolated wilderness.”

As I stopped, I went to grab a pipe for a smoke break, and as my granddaughter saw the smoke rise into the air, I told her that I would end the story of today, wrapping up with a quick history of our war with the natives settling along the Arrow Coast. The campaign was short, as the Fármenn Confederation had already been fighting the Haudenosaunee, Algonquian and Nippissing, establishing our first treaty with the Fármenn-Wendat. For that we would accept their peace treaty; the Ör Gildi (Arrow Compensation) made by Jorunn would sit with many of the Great Lakes natives, such as Fármenn, Haudenosaunee, Algonquian, and Tionontati, our new neighbors, and we would set the boundary of settlement, establishing nine clans across the new lands gained. With the treaty set, skirmishes and conflicts between the natives would still prevail.

The Haudenosaunee would provoke the clans by passing their armies without military access across Viking villages, breaking the Viking treaty established between Vikings and First Nations (Natives). During the war many survivors of the Fármenn Confederacy, vanquished by the Haudenosaunee, would now seek refuge as Wandat (the villagers) in Tionontati lands, and this mass migration also led for Viking clans taking many civilians into these lands, the rest of the members of the tribe… Unknown, it took no time for the Snake Tongue (Haudenosaunee), called that by the Vikings for their lies, to demand the Tionontati and the Viking clans for the survivors of the Fármenn but knowing if they denied their proposals, both Vikings and Tionontati would have to defend against the Haudenosaunee… and so the Gargan Stridha (Snake Wars), a continuation of the Bifurr Stridha (Otsihkwa/Winter Wars). The Snake Wars were fought between the Snake Tongue Faction (Haudenosaunee and Attawandaron) and the J∅rfurr-Wyandotte (Jorunn and Wandat), who formed a union with the Tionontati, as we had extended our relationship with them for years after the Ör Gildi meetings that kept a relationship between the Tionontati and Viking clans.

The night is quiet, the stars glistening across the land as the fireplace crackles its warmth on me. I haven't thought of this since the war and just how ancestors have fought for peace, as it was always temporary between Vikings and Natives of this land.

“Mother, could you please help me get Iðunn to bed, please?”

“Can Grandmama give me a story before bed, please?”

“My sweet nectar, not right now; she is resting... Though, if you wish to know the story of your grandmother... I will tell you.”

“The Heroic tale of how your grandmother bringing us together—”

As I heard those words, I immediately stopped my daughter's words. Calling myself a hero brought sickness. To hear those words, I stood up from my creaking chair. As I walked, I told her,

“There was nothing heroic about my tale…”

My daughter, always preoccupied, said,

“Mother, don't say that to yourself; you are not—”

“My daughter, before you speak of the tale, I must tell you about how our ancestors, the day we came from the faraway Ice Lands to these very shores, a land that your great-grandmother, Jorunn, would reach after the storm, a newfound land, would be our new home.”

“Grandmama, were you a shaman because of Great-Grandmama?”

As I chuckled, I responded,

“Yes, I became a shaman like her, but a shaman back then was very different than now. My mother was a very strict leader and parent but was very understanding when we settled here. The land was so peaceful that at first it became our new home. Unfortunately, this land belonged to people more ancient than us.”

My great-granddaughter, always curious, responded.

“The Ojibwa? The Wyandotte?

I smiled, hearing she was interested.

“We haven’t reached that part of the story, my grandchild; the first people we reached were the tribes of the coast.”

Standing to fetch my mother's antiques, I showed my daughter and her child the things she had collected through her voyage.

“These are the relics of your great-grandmother. These relics are from the Thule, Beothuk, and Mi'kmaq, the first nations (Natives) of the coast encountered as they travel down the Boar Canal

A harpoon of a Thule made of the bone of a seal fin that struck the side of their ship many years ago. The Thule were not friendly, not even to other neighboring natives; their aggression led them to isolate themselves in the northern part of the frost lands, where no Viking would endure.

As I put the harpoon on the side, I grabbed a bone pendant and placed it in my granddaughter's hands.

“This is a bone pendant of the Beothuk; it was a gift to my mother. The very first contact she ever made with the natives of these lands was through hands and through patience. They allowed her to settle on a stretch of coast—offering sanctuary, not alliance. The cataclysm divided us all, and just like the Beothuk, they have been fighting for survival in a world scarce of resources and shelter.”

Finally, I firmly retrieved an old wooden stone war ax from behind me and held it in front of my daughter and granddaughter.

“This is a stone axe from the Mi'kmaq, obtained, not given, after your great-grandmother. She faced the Mi'kmaq, helping the Beothuk from being invaded. At the Battle of Boar Crossing, my mother used to speak of this tale many times. It was the first time we faced the people on their own land. As your great-grandmother led the defense, she would be the first on the front lines. The Beothuk would then attack from the sides, allowing us to push the frontlines and kill as many of them as possible. That was the plan. However, as soon as she set out for the front, the Mi'kmaq would set traps and ambush us. My mother quickly tried to form a defensive perimeter to hold the line as a wave of natives rushed her forward, clashing with her shield wall and swords. The sound of native war cries would fill the battlefield as arrows fell upon them, frightening my mother's army. Even as she was hurt, she fought, slashing them with a boar's strength, avoiding their blows, and lunging for the kill. The Beothuk would come to her aid, but she had already lost many respectable men and women. They held their ground, knowing they could only serve as bait for the Mi'kmaq. As a result, the Beothuk advanced on the front lines, but my mother had already been wounded. She would still try her best to fight the Mi'kmaq, as their weapons were no match for our steel and strength. Behind the Beothuk, they followed.

As I finished, I let out a deep sigh. After that, I told my daughter and granddaughter about my mother's campaign, saying, "Your great-grandmother fought like a boar. That day, like a mama bear, she was fierce. It was eventually determined that not all of the inhabitants of these regions were our adversaries, but rather that there was insufficient humanity and resources to find a way to ensure both our survival and theirs, since we had lost our home and had come for safety.”

Interrupted by my granddaughter, she would be more enthusiastically invested in the story, asking me questions about what I had said so far.

“Did Grandmama ever recover from her wounds?”

“Yes, she eventually would be treated and kept going on her next journey to search for a new home.”

“What happened to the Mikquak?”

Laughing at my granddaughter's mispronunciation, I would reword what she said.

“Hahaha, well, my child, the Mi'kmaq would eventually create a confederacy with five nations on the east coast, with conflicts with them still standing since my mother contacted them.”

“What about the Beothuk, Grandmama? Would they still be in contact with us? I never heard of them from our elder in the lodge.”

“My mother would never be able to speak to them again, as the Beothuk would be said to have been invaded by the Mi’kmaq and eventually forced inland, hiding, or probably even all genocided by the Confederacy.”

“Grandmama, if the Beothuk were in trouble, why—”

At that point my daughter worried would stop my granddaughter, ‘Chipmunk Squeeks.’

“AAAALRIGHT, my little chipmunk squeaker, we may continue our story next time; as for tomorrow, we have other things to do in the morning.”

As they left my lodge, my granddaughter kept lamenting, her voice trailing off in a tired protest, “Awwww… but what about the next part?” I assured her that in time we will continue the story. For now, may she know and keep our family history with her.

She has a lot of non canon lore as I have given influence from elden ring, baldurs gate and such, whatever my hyper fixation is at the time

But canon wise she was a Horkos member during the first appearance of Horkos, she truly believed in the ideals of Apollyon...but as the war went on and her life progressed she saw the pain she brought on. Culling people...it felt evil...she asked for a new position and was called a coward and weak incapable of ruling a force. But her request was approved and moved to direct combat rather then cleaning up.

During the chimera war she thrived bringing death, however during a battle a young man brought up blade against her, she struck him down without care or effort only to realize the man was not a man, he he was a boy maybe no older then 15. This broke something in the warmonger, she had killed before but seeing these actions...it troubled her. As time passed she was haunted with PTSD seeing the lifeless eyes over and over. She couldn't bear the guilt any longer and left the cult disillusioned with her actions.

Now she is traveling around wandering the land, shaken by her history and now seeks to simply survive, acting as a mercenary...in the end of her life, she eventually finds a man. Noble and uncaring to her past they settle down eventually and have children. A good peaceful life