When I was chosen to be High King I felt as though I was cursed. Hounded by our ancestors I was shown the destruction our people were inflicting upon each other. How cousins killed each other in the name of progress or to defend the past.
I knew what the Grumfather had selected me to do and I prayed for him to change his mind.
The task impossible and I was not the man to take on such a role.
Ignoring the cries of our ancestors I travelled in secret from town to town. Meeting Vendel and Vestenmannavnjar alike. We were not so different, unfortunately we are equally stubborn and hardened our hearts towards one another. How could one man change the heart of a people divided.
So I hid. Like a coward I hid.
I hid as our people slaughtered each other. I hid as the nightmares of our past attacked our spirit.
I can hide no more.
The Great Wyrm has returned. We must overcome our stubbornness and stand shoulder to shoulder as a united people or we will all fall before it.
Every Vestenmannavnjar and Vendel killed is one less soldier to fight the Wyrm.
Gather all your men, all your ships. We are going to war with the greatest enemy of our people.
United we shall win.