The Picts
The Picts dwelled on the isle when the Giants roamed, in the days before Brutus' arrival.
According to their legends, their people grew from the soil, of rock and of tree, and were siblings to the animals of the world. The ancestors of the Picts wandered wild, from their origins in Scythia, to Hispania to Ireland. Each time, a part of them left to find a new place to dwell. To the people around them, they are named Picts, as their tradition of painting themselves with woad and their spiral-tattoos, yet few know what they call themselves, as the Picts are not partial to share something that powerful with outsiders, and have come to call themselves Picts in daily parlance.
The Father of the People, Cruithne, was the one to settle them in what would later become Alba; dividing the land up in seven between his sons, yet the royal line would fall to be found from mothers and not fathers, as was the ancient agreement with the Irish, giving Kingship to the son of the last king's sister; and to avoid paternal pride, sons are raised by foster-fathers and not by their fathers themselves.
And so it came to be; for what might have been centuries, that the Picts had peace with the spirits and accords with both Giants and Dwarves of the land, as everyone lived in accordance with the old and true ways. The People became the stewards of the land around them.
Then, ships of new people arrived, bearing their ways of wall and lies, with plough to furrow the Great Mother's skin and walls that brought a halt to the lay lines of the land. With their arrival, the dragon began to slumber and greed became the life of the world; swords and war became the new way of life, forcing the Picts to retreat into the wild places of the world, namely the Highlands and the northern coasts of Alba. In the end, the Picts accepted to be ruled by a King of Britons and for centuries, this was how life was.
However, when King Lucius died, the Picts considered themselves to be free, even when the Romans advanced on their lands, the Picts stood against the Empire with such fervors that the Romans built not one but two walls to keep the Picts from the Empire's conquered part of Britain. Yet, the Picts remained defiant, raiding as they pleased both among the Romans and Britons, but also each other.
When the Romans fled from the Isles, Alba had grown colder and less fertile for the Picts, the prophecies of a new, southern land echoed among the People, whose internal feuding had made the seven tribes even more hostile to one another.
A southerner, Vortigern, gave several of the tribes a chance to settle in the south, becoming defenders against the Irish and the Cornish. Several smaller tribes accepted this chance to see the lands that the prophet Fiosaiches had sung of. In Jagent, the forests became a new homeland for the Picts, and none thought much of the dragon Fiosaiches had spoken about.
For a few years, it was joy. Then, Pictish bodyguards were duped into killing King Constans and then promptly executed, all due to Vortigern's viles.
When the newly-crowned king Vortigern marched on Pictlands, fury spread among the people for his treachery. First, they descended from the highlands on the Britons on both sides of the wall, their fury great. With spear in hand, the northern Picts roared into the green southlands, pillaging Cumbria and Logres alike with their war-luck sending the Britons of Caledonia to their side. The Brigantes of Cumbria even turned, as they refused to bow to Vortigern.
It was then, the Saxons arrived on Vortigern's bidding and broke the Picts in the field.
The People was sent north, defeated and divided. It was not until the Kingship of Orkney was passed on to Der-Ilei's son that the Picts had hope again. A marriage between a Pict and a grandson of Cunneda united Alba in a way that few could have predicted. The tribes were either swept aside or bended by King Cadlew as he fought for his young son's kingship.
Now, Lot is a grown man, wed to a princess of the south, with blood from both Orkney, Caledonia, Cornwall and Avalon running through his veins. Lothian might be a kingdom of Caledonians, but Lot speaks his mother's tongue and have been tattooed with the spirals of old. If anyone can bring the Picts a new future, it is Lot and the line that shall follow him.
According to their legends, their people grew from the soil, of rock and of tree, and were siblings to the animals of the world. The ancestors of the Picts wandered wild, from their origins in Scythia, to Hispania to Ireland. Each time, a part of them left to find a new place to dwell. To the people around them, they are named Picts, as their tradition of painting themselves with woad and their spiral-tattoos, yet few know what they call themselves, as the Picts are not partial to share something that powerful with outsiders, and have come to call themselves Picts in daily parlance.
The Father of the People, Cruithne, was the one to settle them in what would later become Alba; dividing the land up in seven between his sons, yet the royal line would fall to be found from mothers and not fathers, as was the ancient agreement with the Irish, giving Kingship to the son of the last king's sister; and to avoid paternal pride, sons are raised by foster-fathers and not by their fathers themselves.
And so it came to be; for what might have been centuries, that the Picts had peace with the spirits and accords with both Giants and Dwarves of the land, as everyone lived in accordance with the old and true ways. The People became the stewards of the land around them.
Then, ships of new people arrived, bearing their ways of wall and lies, with plough to furrow the Great Mother's skin and walls that brought a halt to the lay lines of the land. With their arrival, the dragon began to slumber and greed became the life of the world; swords and war became the new way of life, forcing the Picts to retreat into the wild places of the world, namely the Highlands and the northern coasts of Alba. In the end, the Picts accepted to be ruled by a King of Britons and for centuries, this was how life was.
However, when King Lucius died, the Picts considered themselves to be free, even when the Romans advanced on their lands, the Picts stood against the Empire with such fervors that the Romans built not one but two walls to keep the Picts from the Empire's conquered part of Britain. Yet, the Picts remained defiant, raiding as they pleased both among the Romans and Britons, but also each other.
When the Romans fled from the Isles, Alba had grown colder and less fertile for the Picts, the prophecies of a new, southern land echoed among the People, whose internal feuding had made the seven tribes even more hostile to one another.
A southerner, Vortigern, gave several of the tribes a chance to settle in the south, becoming defenders against the Irish and the Cornish. Several smaller tribes accepted this chance to see the lands that the prophet Fiosaiches had sung of. In Jagent, the forests became a new homeland for the Picts, and none thought much of the dragon Fiosaiches had spoken about.
For a few years, it was joy. Then, Pictish bodyguards were duped into killing King Constans and then promptly executed, all due to Vortigern's viles.
When the newly-crowned king Vortigern marched on Pictlands, fury spread among the people for his treachery. First, they descended from the highlands on the Britons on both sides of the wall, their fury great. With spear in hand, the northern Picts roared into the green southlands, pillaging Cumbria and Logres alike with their war-luck sending the Britons of Caledonia to their side. The Brigantes of Cumbria even turned, as they refused to bow to Vortigern.
It was then, the Saxons arrived on Vortigern's bidding and broke the Picts in the field.
The People was sent north, defeated and divided. It was not until the Kingship of Orkney was passed on to Der-Ilei's son that the Picts had hope again. A marriage between a Pict and a grandson of Cunneda united Alba in a way that few could have predicted. The tribes were either swept aside or bended by King Cadlew as he fought for his young son's kingship.
Now, Lot is a grown man, wed to a princess of the south, with blood from both Orkney, Caledonia, Cornwall and Avalon running through his veins. Lothian might be a kingdom of Caledonians, but Lot speaks his mother's tongue and have been tattooed with the spirals of old. If anyone can bring the Picts a new future, it is Lot and the line that shall follow him.
Remove these ads. Join the Worldbuilders Guild
Comments