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Quotes from Ásts Stora Ævintýri


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Ásts Stora Ævintýri means "Love's Great Adventure" in the Storish language. It is the legal and cultural term that denotes the history of the House of Ettlingar Freyu as well as the motto of this Imperial and Royal House.

This thread is for posting quotes from the history of the House of Ettlingar Freyu as well as that of the Lands of the Longships Throne. Please feel free to comment if you would like!

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Love's Great Adventure has commenced...

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- Words whispered by the Goddess Hnoss upon giving birth to Björka Hnossdóttir at the Esmoreit Tower of the Wyhotantas Temple in the year 51372 bN.

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What a mundane day in Björka's Household was like?! There was nothing mundane about life that Storhofhâlding. For your enjoyment and instruction here are a few examples from the top of my head. . .

The year is 50890 bN and high up in Björka's foster-children's schoolroom Valgeir Heiðlindursson, at the time one of Björka's two husbands, is telling those young ones stories about how he descends from Sleipnir, Odin's eight-legged horse. The poor kids, of course, had to pretend that they didn't think he was completely insane.

Meanwhile down below the corridor, in her privy chamber, the Jarla Lára Heiðlindursdóttir - Björka's foster-sister - is sitting in an alcove with her memoranda, account books and bags of coin, greedily and happily counting the loot: a spider at the heart of a golden web of power. As it happened, Her Grace had finally found a novel way to keep her unruly allegiants in check: a reign of financial terror. Lára's heinous hench(wo)men - a vile lot of silver-tongued lawyers, slick con(wo)men and brutish enforcers with an IQ lower than their shoe size - forced, strongarmed and weaseled her allegiants - from the wealthy movers and shakers to much less well-off nobodies - into debts, obligations and sureties for good behaviour to Lára; all of the aforesaid was enforced by a shadowy semi-illegal kangaroo tribunal called the Lǫgsspekiþing. The law was then used as a pretext to levy ruinous fines which, instead of being collected in full, were held above the heads of Lára's allegiants, like a sword of Damocles; those poor folks to be financially fleeced at her whim. Her Grace was violently gloating about the unfortunate people who are going to be done next.

In the mead hall Hjalmgeir Heiðlindursson - Björka's other husband - is singing songs in praise of the tyrant Halfdan Evilheart - which was something that he could only get away with because he was Björka's husband, others having been dreadfully executed for less - while tracing a feather over a golden bowl adorned with precious stones; two objects that he always kept by his side since the Forbidden War. Hjalmgeir - who just like his brother Valgeir had not come out too well out of the Forbidden War, the former due to a blow received on his unprotected head during the Battle of Mythbourne, and the latter because of blood poisoning caused by untimely treated wounds after the Battle of Highwood - was by that time a pitiful wreck of human being who oscillated between being a catatonic zombie and notorious comfort eater who ate until he could eat no more, and then used that feather to himself sick. Subsequently he vomited the contents of his stomach into that golden bowl, and then started stuffing himself again. To this very day the ancient text which is known as Valtians Hirðskrá and which governs the present-day Storhofhâldings provides for a servant's position styled the Groom of the Golden Bowl, albeit rendered a sinecure after Hjalmgeir's passing away.

Several stories lower is Björka at the self-same time throwing a private party: a running orgy. Her Imperial Highness is speeding through the halls and corridors of Falkurhǫll accompanied by a large group of cheerful, naked people composed of her ten inhumanly handsome regular live-in lovers called the Ten Potent Poles, a house band of ecstatically playing merry musicians, and whatever passing fancy of hers of either sex. When the music stops Björka and her lovers and fancies get down and joyously engage in wild group sex under erotic tunes played by the band until Her Imperial Highness gives the command to get up. All of them then start running until the music stops again. This wickedly sensual and pleasurable process is repeated over and over until the people taking part are completely exhausted or when time for supper has arrived, whatever may be sooner. Simultaneously, in her bedroom, Lafði Eyrún Eyðfinnsdóttir - Björka's widowed foster-mother - is once again trying to outfuck Björka with whatever man or woman she can get her hands on. An attempt that was, of course, in vain, albeit a very agreeable failure and worth repeating many times over.

In other words: never a dull moment in Björka's Household!

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- Princess Thiadís Ballindís to Princess Margaery des Vinandy at the Imperial Country Club in the year 1683.

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Every country has a hero. Every nation has a legend. We have Björka, the legend of legends and ace of heroines.

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- Princess Thiadís Ballindís of the House of Pellaiqua to Princess Esther of Anglia in the year 1653 amid the days that the latter Lady Royal was a Temple Handmaiden at the Thingeyri Temple and the former Sacred Lady her mentor.

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The chief reason why it took so long, thousands of years, before the Valtian Free State and the Yule Ladies concluded a Concordat was the sheer - and supercalifragilisticexpialidociously fierce - rivalry between the Great Temple, the Wyhotantas Temple and other senior temples of the Isle of Valtia on the one side and the Thirteen Temples on the other side. Valtia over time even grew so powerful that if it hadn't been for the Ancient Covenant those senior Valtian temples would have supplanted the Thirteen Temples as the supreme temples of the Vanic Faith. It required somebody with the august and stellar stature of Björka to achieve the conclusion of the Concordat of Gríðarstórborg, and I daresay that no other mortal than Her Imperial Highness could have gotten it done because at the time it seemed easier to get Freyja to swear a perpetual vow of chastity than get a Concordat concluded between the Grand Old Temples and the Chieftains of Valtia. Using every trick in the book as well as pulling out all the stops and craftily deploying that gargantuan toolbox of hers, it still took Björka more than four centuries.

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- Princess Thiadís Ballindís to Queen Consort Esther of Batavia at Château Paravel in the year 1683.

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Freydís had the longest wait before becoming the Head of a Branch of the House of Ettlingar Freyu. She had to wait until Björka kicked the bucket and permanently moved to Freyja's Hall; that was something which took more than fourteen millennia, while each of her four sisters became the head of a Falcon Branch of her own at age thirteen already. As Björka's eldest daughter, she got the biggest prize though: the Headship of the Birke Branch. The circumstances of Freydís' wait were also supercalifragilisticexpialidociously mitigated by her mother's frequent absences from Valtia - due to her nigh perennial travelling as well as other prolonged stays in the Outland - in which instances Freydís would wield Björka's Imperial Powers as a Storjarla as Seneschal of the Falcons' Rookery, a position to which Freydís had been appointed by Björka at age thirteen. Lots of changes have been made to the Dynastic Law of the Falcons ever since the commencement of the Second Viking Age in the year 1471, otherwise you would have during this present Regency had to turn to Fjǫrleif - who is the present Seneschal of the Falcons' Rookery - in stead of the Lady Regent for permission for your nuptials with Arkadius.

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- Princess Thiadís Ballindís to Kaiserin Gemahlin Esther of Francia at Château de Vathune in the year 1683.

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Well, Björka did - in spite of her exuberantly long life, a staggering 14293‬ years, and being one of the most desirable mortal women ever of whom the marriages that she contracted for an indefinite period of time ended in widowhood relatively quickly - only tie the knot four times in the aforementioned legal manner: once polygamous and thrice simple, with in total no more than five husbands. In stark contrast to that she took gazillions of pillow and ritual spouses, so many that even Frigga might have had difficulty to keep count of them, pending the millennia of widowhood that went between each of those mortal matrimonial unions carrying full legal obligations. This was because Björka was, as a general rule, supercalifragilisticexpialidociously careful not to get her House through such matrimonial unions entangled in all kind of less than desirable matters like debts, pointless feuds, and other inane legacy issues. Case in point - and exception to her rule - was her marriage with Espen of the Isles, which ultimately got the Falcons involved in the War of Insular Succession.

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- Princess Thiadís Ballindís to Storjarla Esther of Normandie at Kaupmaðrhǫll in the year 1681.

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When he commissioned Falkurhǫll‎, Hersir Heiðlindur Gunnleifursson of the House of Hjalteyri told the Francianian Master Builder Lysanthir de Béthune of the House of Ydermure to design the ultimate Imperial Hall. The megalomanic manor of his wildest dreams; the one palace-fortress he had always dreamt about, but wherefore he never had the humongous resources required to make it happen. Lysanthir joyously took Heiðlindur's advice supercalifragilisticexpialidociously to heart. No effort or expense was spared, and it really showed. When Falkurhǫll's construction was completed there stood a luxurious building complex of unparalled beauty which was superb beyond the imagination of many a mortal: the majestic marble marvel, which made all but a few royal palaces around the world look like they were hovels. This was all part Heiðlindur's plan de campagne, carried out in accordance with Freyja's instructions, to trumpet the glory and the grandeur of the newly-established House of the Descendants of Freyja through treasure, an opulent household, and the matter dearest to his heart: magnificent architecture. All to hammer home the message that the Falcons and magnificence go together like a hand in a glove. Heiðlindur commissioned many a resplendent building more, including the Valtian State Archives and the Valtian State Treasury, inedibly stamping himself on the heartland of the Valtian Nation. Other Valtian chieftains did not wish to be inferior to Heiðlindur and followed suit, kickstarting a construction fever which lasted millennia, causing gorgeous buildings to pop up like mushrooms and changed the face of Isle of Valtia forever.

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- Princess Thiadís Ballindís to Kaiserin Gemahlin Esther of Francia at Scarwood Keep in the year 1683.

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The rats are emerging from every nook and cranny of the world to claw themselves a piece of the Hallenian pie. The only cut they will have from me though, is a cut from Thunderfury.

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- The Storjarla Björka Hnossdóttir to Lafði Merry Blaise de Ravarie in the year 45271 bN.

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Inside of every old person is a young person wondering what in Níflheimr happened.

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- The Lady Björka Hnossdóttir to Lafði Tanja Gunnþórasdóttir of the House of Hríngaríki, her cupbearer, in the year 37099 bN.

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Björka, who had a matchless spirit and a gracious frame, covered by her splendid bravery the inclination of the soldiers to waver. For she made a sally about, and flew round to the rear of the enemy, taking them unawares, and thus turned the panic of her friends into the camp of the enemy.

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- From: the History of the Valtians

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When I came into this world Björka and her daughters were, sadly, dead long time already. I was a regular visitor to Falkurhǫll during the tenures of the last three of the Storlafðir - Hafþóra, Éowyn and Herdís - though, enjoying the feasts, revelry and other fun together with the numerous female cousins who had Falcon Blood coursing through their veins. A favourite activity of ours was to compare boobs to see who had the biggest and most beautiful breasts. Even I got regularly bested there!

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- Princess Thiadís Ballindís to Princess of Esther of Anglia at the Birgitta Hall of the Yfirtemplet in the year 1653.

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The thing that I have always appreciated about the Lady Björka is you never get knifed in the back. You occasionally get one in the forehead or the chest, but you never get it in the back, and you can't say that about everybody else.

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- The Storjarla Sólrún Hersilíasdóttir, the then Head of House of House of Yvaotla, at a ceremony in the year 49370 bN.

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Listen to the mustn'ts, child. Listen to the don'ts. Listen to the shouldn'ts, the impossibles, the won'ts. Listen to the never haves, then listen close to me, your Lady Grandmother, and your Lady Great-grandmother... Anything can happen, o Sweet Child of Mine. Anything can be.

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- The Storjarla Björka Hnossdóttir to her eldest daughter Freydís at the Vanadís Temple in the year 51175 bN during the latter's Brísingamen Ceremony.

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With the adoption of me and Fränzi-Ferdinanda into House de Ravarie and our simultaneous inclusion in the Line of Succession to the Lozenge Throne, the Question of Ravarian Succession was resolved and the dreaded Ravarian Succession Crisis ended overnight. Very much to the great relief of virtually anyone of the isle of Hallenium, except for a few opportunists from within and without the Hallenian Realm who thought that they could fish their way through the murky, troubled waters of the jungle of the Ravarian Succession Crisis to the ancient, prestigious title of Þengilla Rýjaras and its corresponding Queenship, which to boot had been created in the Days of Valtia by the Storjarla Björka Hnossdóttir‎ herself.

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- Queen Æsileif of the Lozenge Kingdom to Kaiserin Gemahlin Esther of Francia in the year 1682.

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Duke Qwallertink had hired the scum of the earth; thugs enlisted for sadism and cruelty, who even could teach the Wild Boys a thing or two.

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- Kaiserin Gemahlin Esther of Francia to the Princess Elisabeth of Austrasia at Tecklenburg Palace in the year 1682.

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Foolshope is, just like nigh all of the Green, a supercalifragilisticexpialidociously terrible place dripping on poverty. Drive through it at about half 7 in the morning and you'll see the local alcoholics outside their favourite beer joint, already on their second pint, having a roll up ciggie.

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- The Storjarla Esther of Anglia to Fledglings she was teaching in the nude at the Frjósemitemplet in the year 1678.

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You may ask me nigh anything about Valtia, but don't you dare query me about its location or why it was destroyed or nasty things shall happen to you by mine hand, as is mine right by ancient law. I would not kill you though, but you would become the unwilling giftee of some seriously large scars - both physically as emotionally - to serve as a reminder never to ask me that again for the duration of your life. The same applies to the location of the Well of Longevity. Do you understand!? Good! Now give me a hug and press that gorgeous body of yours firmly against mine, honey!

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- Princess Thiadís Ballindís to Princess of Esther of Anglia at the Queen's Chapel of the Yfirtemplet in the year 1653.

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  • 2 weeks later...

The Lady Björka is as gorgeous as people said. A jeweled tiara gleamed amidst her long golden hair, its sapphires a perfect match for the blue of her eyes.

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- Thoughts of Percitar Xyrphyra, Ambassador of Qoisweole to the Valtian Free State in the year 44149 bN while watching the Storjarla Björka Hnossdóttir when he was attending a banquet at the Wyhotantas Temple.

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Outbribing Björka was nigh impossible if she really wanted to get her way due to her tremendous wealth. No mortal could match Björka coin for coin without beggaring themselves, while for Her Imperial Highness it was just mere peanuts. On top of that Björka also had a second purse that was supercalifragilisticexpialidociously inexhaustible.

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- Princess Thiadís Ballindís to Kaiserin Gemahlin Esther of Francia at Château de Vathune in the year 1684.

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Esther, o Sweet Descendant of Mine. You are a Rauðihár of Mine Blood; the greatgranddaughter of the High King, a granddaughter of a Kaiser of Shireroth, and the daughter of a Kaiseress of Shireroth and the King of Elwynn. You are therefore destined to become a Priestess of the Ancient Ways. Don't try to flee your fate, because it shall come for you and catch up with you, and mayhaps not in the most pleasant of manners. You can run away from your destiny as much as Avæst Hallthorsson could escape from Me on the banks of the Stream of Sighs, or Thordynnar Galtivaris could escape from Mine Daughter in the Godsgrove of Valtias Stortemplet. The both of them tried, though. O, by Vanaheim, they tried. They tried admirably hard, using every trick in the book. It was all in vain, however, like any attempt of yours to eschew your foreordination shall be in vain as well. Your mother's death has absolved you of the provisions of your parents' matrimonial contract which required you to be raised in the Hurmudan Faith. You are a very spiritual young lady, and in spite of having been raised in the Hurmudan Faith, latently, in the deepest caverns of that marvellous heart of yours, you have always been a pious Vanakvinna, and time has now come for you to follow in the footsteps of the Storlafðir and many, many other Falconesses before you and become a Holy Woman and a Wiċċe. Just embrace your destiny, Sweetling, and relish and savour every heartbeat of it, for it is your birthright. Now get naked, Honey, and show yourself to Me in your full skyclad glory!

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- The Goddess Freyja to Princess Esther of Anglia at the Vanadísarhall in the year 1651.

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Playing a lute - and with a voice unparalled in regality and soothing, assuring beauty - with musical accompaniment by Freyja on a flute and Idunn on a tambourine, Frigga performed a yoik. Utterly strange and enchanting words it were, sung in a magical tongue of which the slightest bit of understanding had since times ancient beyond the memory of woman been lost already to anyone but the All-Mother Herself. Everybody present at the Thingvellir, however, felt what She was yoiking: Her Most Sacred Majesty was proclaiming Harald of Ettlingar Freyu, High King of Stormark.

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- From: the Annals of the Vanadísarhall

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I am an old Vanakvinna, an exuberantly old shieldmaiden, and I have seen much and more battles than most of you have years. Nothing is more horrendous in our existence mundane, nothing more glorious, and nothing more horrendous. You may throw up. You will not be the first. You may drop your sword, your shield, your axe. Innumerable others have done the same. Just pick it up and continue fighting. You may soil yourself. Many before you did so in their first battle. Nobody shall care a fig. All battlefields reek of blood and excrements. You may cry out for your mother, pray to the most of obscure of deities - gods you thought you and anyone else but Frigga had forgotten- and shout profanities that you never dreamed could go by those lips of yours. All of that has happened too.

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- The Storjarla Björka Hnossdóttir in the year 43372 bN, addressing her troops before the Battle of the Icicles.

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The battlements of the Freyusturninn, the highest tower of Falkurhǫll, was one of mine favourite spots within the aforesaid Majestic Marble Marvel as well as of all of Reikistjarna for that matter. Every time I stepped out onto those supercalifragilisticexpialidociously high battlements, the sight was just as intoxicating as always. Awestruck I immersed myself, to the point of nigh drowning, in the view offered by this tranquil land of fields of golden roses as far as the eye could see, endless leagues of sky and cloud, the wide slow-moving river which had been dubbed the Enchanted Stream by Freyja Herself, and innumerable small lakes which shone like mirrors in the sun. Protected on all sides by gorgeous, sheltering and majestic mountains which were known as Björka's Peaks, it was a fairylike landscape of such a beauty that it would make many a mortal think that zie was in Vanaheim itself.

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- Princess Thiadís Ballindís to Kaiserin Gemahlin Esther of Francia at the Golden Sheathe in the year 1684.

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