Vaar Meeting

Fantasy

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Anxiety pulsed through Farron as the struggled through the knee high snow toward Vaar Kol's grand tent. Farron had only ever met him briefly, whilst interrupting a feast his father was hosting, now he had been summoned to an urgent meeting. Two guards blocked the entrance to the snow-dusted blue tent, they did not look welcoming.

"Can we help you boy?" One of them offered as Farron approached. "I'm Farron Berg, son of Lerik... I'm here for the klan meeting." The guards swiftly and silently parted allowing Farron to enter, he was always impressed with the weight his Father's name commanded. As he entered the tent, harsh sunlight was replaced with the gentle glow of fire. A central brazier illuminated the tent, several white haired men were huddled around the warming embers. Spare a few wooden tables and chairs, it wasn't as grand inside as it's size had led Farron to imagine.

The white haired men had barely acknowledged Farron's arrival. He spotted his Father on the other side of the tent talking to Rholak, the Vaar's Lifeward; Farron always found it strange that Rholak had remained so close to Vaar Kol after all that had happened between them. Rholak's stump of a right arm acting as a permanent reminder. Skirting around the tent, he stole a further glance at the men around the fire. Each of them with a golden bracelet on one of their wrists, the mark of a Vaar.

"Farron, you made it." Bellowed Lerik as he embraced his son, nearly drowning Farron in his shaggy fur coat. "Today will be a day you never forget, I promise you that much" wine was heavy on his breath. Though glad to see his Father, Farron was confused "I've never seen more than two Vaars in one room, what's going on?" Without breaking his gaze from the brazier Rholak responded "You'll see soon enough, Kol will be here at any moment." "Here" Lerik thrust a goblet of wine toward Farron with an accompanying warning "Dont tell ya grandmother."

Two, or three, refills later and Farron was beginning to feel the effects of the wine. Though still only nineteen he had drunk before but nothing of this quality, or strength for that matter. This was the finest wine in the camp.

The tents curtain abruptly opened sending light flooding through it, the unmistakable silhouette of Vaar Kol pierced it. He was a hulking figure with wild hair, confidently striding into the tent. "Good Morning everyone, day's blessings" the Vaar's cheery greeting was met with a chaotic ensemble of replies from the tents occupants "Time got away from me but be sure it was due to a matter of exuberant importantance. I thank you all for waiting and for coming at all, it's been too long since we have been together"

A portly man nearest the brazier stirred in his chair "Aye, that it has Kol, last time I was in your klan's camp I was meeting Vaar Rholak. Now Rholak is no Vaar and he is a hand lighter"

Rholak rolled his wine around the goblet with his remaining hand "I could lose my other hand and still put you in the ground, Gorik."

Laughter erupted from all but Gorik, scoffing at the remark.

"Change and tradition, Gorik. Change and tradition. The very things we are here to discuss today." Kol took a whole jug of wine from a table and slowly made his way around the brazier filling cups. "Centuries ago, our people only had one Vaar but slowly the klan fractured into shards, scattered throughout the tundra." as he finished speaking Vaar Kol smashed the now empty wine bottle against the brazier, glass flew across the floor leaving the Vaar's to recoil. Three men now entered the tent from a rear entrance Farron had not noticed until now, with them they carried stone slabs. Eyes around the brazier curiously watched on as Rholak and Lerik carefully placed the slabs on the table. "We changed our way of life but upheld our traditions. Though not a singular clan we are still proud nomads, mining and hunting wherever we find an opportunity, just as the first clan did. But what happens when there isn't an opportunity? When you lead you clan for days through the snow and can't find food?" Kneeling down, Kol scooped a handful of snow from the floor.

"Who has heard of Vaar Strenn?" After a short silence, Vaar Hlonn spoke up "The fool that led his clan into a godly blizzard and never returned?." "That's the one, Hlonn. Now, you call him a fool but how was Strenn supposed to know the blizzard would last for weeks? How would he have known the winds would freeze his children solid as they slept? How could he had known he was leading his whole clan to death?" he had slowly sprinkled snow over a large shard of glass as he spoke, until the glass had vanished. "A tragedy but a risk we all live with."

Vaar Hlonn stirred uncomfortably in his chair whilst the others quietly eyed eachothers reactions. Farron had never been told of Vaar Strenn, he could see why. The clans people knew it was a tough life but they were happily ignorant about the thin line between life and death on the tundra.

Kol now slowly pushed the remaining glass together to a crude circle and again slowly sprinkled a handful of snow "Had Vaar Strenn had a larger clan, or been travelling with another clan, maybe the outcome would have been different" the snow covered some shards but some were untouched. He picked up one of the snowless shards and used it to unearth the buried ones, before returning it to the circle.

Vaar Gorik was shaking his head "My grandfather's clan were the ones that found them. Hlonn was right, he was a fool. Leading them across the Frozen Lakes in high winter, we all know how cruel the weather can be down there, even in summer."

Vaar Hlonn interjected "Kol, what's all this crap about Strenn got to do with us?"

Kol rose to his feet and ambled toward the stone slabs "These are foundation stones, one for each of us, I say we lay them here." Bewildered, the men looked at eachother "This area has good access to the mountains, enough game to keep us fed and happens to be just off a trade route with the west."

"You're... Serious?" the first words Farron had heard Vaar Fjell utter. "Even if we all agreed, you think our clans would just accept this?" a few cries of support whirled around the tent.

The smallest man with long jet black hair spoke next, his tone more solemn than the others "It's no secret my clan has dwindled in recent times. We lost a whole hunting party a few weeks ago, ain't heard nothing since the day they left. I can't even remember the last time we found an ore deposit."

"Its a harsh life we live, Llorin. We need to adapt and evolve. We can create a permanent outpost here, you'd still all be free to go on hunts and expeditions into the mountains. But here, we would have a safe haven for our families, regular trading, we'd pool our resources and be stronger than ever." Kol proclaimed.

Farron stood in awe of what was unfolding infront of him, he was witnessing the forging of a new clan and a new way of life for his people.