BRELSINGA SAGA

Brelsinga Saga

By Jacob “Yeof” Morin

07/22/2023 & 06/04/2025

Foreword

Our scene is set on the peninsula known-as Bindlind, home of the Bindlinders. They are a folk of ancient Germano-Celtic likeness, who long-ago became separated from other lands by the mountains that cap their own, &-so have developed a distinct culture completely unique to themselves. 

While they share a single cultural identity, they are split into tribe-clans called bindclans, or just clans (bind means band, as in “warrior-band”). 

Each clan is led by a chief-figure called the húlhöd (hall-head), who resides in their respective clans’s great húl (hall). 

Within the hall resides, alongside the húlhöd, a group of folk together known as the húlbind (hall-band). This consists of the húlhöd, their closest family & friends, & closest retainers & staff. 

Each clan is named after a founding húlhöd of legend. Each clan resides in a land of distinct geography & features. 

There are the marshes and sea of Pæstoria, home of the Pæstori, of clan Pæstor, founded by Pæst.

There are the plains of Brelsingsland, home of the Brels, of clan Brel, founded by Brelsí.

There is the forest of Dánílía, home of the Dánílíans, of clan Dáníl, founded by Dání.

There are the bogs & fens of Röströmhöm, home of the Röströmír, of clan Röström, founded by Röstr. 

There are the hills of Keazadon, home of the Keazads, of clan Keazay, founded by Keaz.

Lastly, there are the mountains of Þayvia, home of the Þayví, of clan Þayvin, founded by Þayv.

The bindlanders worship a central deity known as the Hölhöd (Whole-Head). Under that god, the land of each clan is said to be protected by a tutelary guardian-spirit, a landvite, whom the people of each individual clan revere. 

The story to be told, now, revolves around Brelsí’s founding of clan Brel. Firstly, I must introduce our hero:

Brelsí was a Dánílían, of the húlbind of Dání, living within Dánílshúl. He was of noble lineage stretching back generations, into times before the clans were established. 

Brelsí had grown into a great horse-rider, & was celebrated among the forest-folk for wrangling & breaking many wild horses from the unclaimed plains, which were disputed by all the clans which existed at that time. 

All-this he had achieved by the age of 30. He was a brave man, of great generosity & charisma. 

With a basic description of our hero established, I will now read the account of his victory, as recorded by the folks of his clan later-on:

The Story

In days low-stacked in the records of the Moon, which even the oldest trees struggle to recount, we did not live here on this meadow by the hill, in the wet-air of this stream beside the sea, in this hall above the well: in Brelsingsland.

Nay, Pergspelta had never heard our names. There were no Brels & Brelsings - none of us who come from great Brelsí, none of us who come from great Hegðo who comes from Brelsí, none of us who live in Brelshúl or its fields.  

Nay, there were none but the deer and foxes, mice and squirrels, wolves and rabbits, the horses & and all hosts of the land who lived in abundance around the mighty oak of the home-spirit-of-the-land. That spirit, Pergspelta, who served the Hölhöd then as now, who graced the land with his sweet waters then as now, and brought joy and comfort to all who tread on his land then as now. 

All was well until one summertide day, when cold winds blew from the northern mountains, and down from high came Ahstangír: That wretched wyrm, that wicked serpent, that terrible dragon who was known to slither atop the peaks of Þayvia. 

The beast flew-down to the grasslands with his wind-sail, and wrought his poison upon the ground which he trampled with his leg-imps. 

Thusly the plants withered, the animals scattered and grew sick with pestilence. Even the fungi melted into ooze as Ahstangír drank the life-water and spit-it-up onto the oak of Pergspelta, which shriveled and charred from his saliva. 

Pergspelta was enraged, and how he mourned this loss - He appeared before the serpent and called upon the shöviren to cast away this invader. But, even the great wallop-beasts did not come here, for they were frightened of the snake. 

Pergspelta called out to the Hölhöd, but the miasma of Ahstangír strangled the wind, and the spirit’s words did not reach heaven before gasping into death-silence. 

The wyrm only rejoiced more cunningly, and the imps bound Pergspelta with thorny vines. Ahstangír’s poison had burned the trunk of the vast tree, and sank a deep well-pit into the soil under its roots. In this new cavern, the home-spirit-of-the-land was imprisoned. 

The putrid mud gathered in the cavity, and Pergspelta was therein plunged, defenseless. 

All this occurred during the celebration of the thirtieth day-of-birth of the great rider Brelsí, who lived under the cover of the trees of Dánílía. 

All the woods-folk were gathered in revelry around Dánílshúl among the sacred grove, & Brelsí himself beamed with pride beneath the rays of sunlight that poked through the canopy. 

The jubilation was wrought into disarray as a screaming man came riding into the clearing. His voice rang against the trees with terror, & birds jumped into the sky. 

He had overslept, so had not arrived at the party. As he arose out of his home which lay on the outskirts of the forest, where the trees thinned into the horse-steppe, he’d borne witness to that wicked wyrm descending from the peaks of Þayvia. 

He described the terror in panic: 

“To its side cling four devilish imps, who serve the beast, & walk as legs for the legless wyrm!

On its back is a great ship-sail, with which it flies through the air like a bird! It bears the markings of Þayvia - Þayv acts to supplant our supremacy over the horse-lands!

Its fangs spit a burning venom, & poison seeps from its scales! The land is black & darkened; the great oak has perished. All the animals run amok, & the drinking-stream of the horses runs green with pestilence!

I dare say great Pergspelta, spirit of the oak itself, has been shackled underground. 

Nay, I say there is no man who can slay this devil!”

Brelsí took that last remark as a personal challenge. How could he continue as a great horse-tamer, when all the horses had perished? 

Nay, this would not do. 

Brelsí went into the hall, & gathered his weapons & armor. The great sword Cloudcleaver gleamed on his hip; the very sword passed-down as a gift from Dání himself. 

That chieftain stood before his friend, bidding him victory in the name of the guardian-spirit. To consecrate holy protection, he bestowed the power of the forest-spirit to the determined-one with a kiss. 

Brelsí said a prayer to the spirit and the one-god above, & set-out on his prized pearl horse, Tentrach, whose name means “lightning.” 

As he burst away, he implored the good-folk of his home to continue the revelry without him, & worry-not their minds with the danger he’d make sure would never come near. 

So Brelsí rode along the road at breakneck pace hitherto never attempted by any rider. Tentrach lived-up to his name, & the pair broke through into sunlight in record time.

At last, they came upon the grasslands. Once verdant and blooming, the land was now dry & cracked. A hissing, burning flood of corrosion made its way, slowly, towards the forest behind them. 

Brelsí reared his horse-friend back, away from the flood. He dismounted & went into the trees of their home. From the shrubbery, he extracted the leaves of a famed herb, which was well-known as resistant to burning of any sort. Around the thunderbolt-legs & flank of Tentrach, he wound the green-&-pink leaves with cord. He did the same to himself.

Now, the duo could proceed. 

Tentrach rode, unfazed & unpained. His gallop was hindered-not by the swirling fluid, & as they continued across the vast steppe, the black skeleton of the great oak at the midst of the plains came into view. 

Where, unseen, was the wicked wyrm so-decried by that man?

Was it all a delusion of a half-sleeping imagination, perhaps under the rabid spell of the dog that bit him the night before? 

Nay, that could not be… The poison & venom which now cast the buzzing land into hissing desert was evidence enough. 

Where, then, was the vile thing? 

Brelsí drove the horse carefully towards the dead oak. Apprehension hung in the air, strung to the ground by twirling plumes of foul-smelling vapor. 

From his back, Brelsí equipped his bow, & an arrow. He faced it above him, at a slight angle. He let-loose the sharp missile, & it whizzed high into the clouds with a whistle, before rearing down & raining straight into the center of the tree. 

It struck just between the new hole of the well-cavern, into the back of Ahstangír. Brelsí did not see this, but it was betrayed by piercing screeches which made the rider plunge fingers into both ears. Tentrach whinnied & shook in fear. 

Brelsí soothed his friend, & plugged both of their ears with cotton from a pouch. He held up his shield, which bore the emblem of a shövir, perhaps the only creature faster than the horse he rode. 

Shöviren were said to run in great herds throughout the land, in a great display known as a shövirad. The speed of their stone-like hooves was so great, it could cast dry brush into raging wildfires. 

The good deer-like beings would cry at their mistake, & the healing-water of their tears would flood the land, restoring the char into greater abundance than before. 

It was said Brelsí’s own shield, from a long-dead ancestor, was imbued with such tears, & was thus indestructible. 

With that shield held high, Brelsí charged the beast that hovered before him, snarling. 

Ahstangír blew poison at his foe, which caught the heat of sunlight, & ignited into raging flame. 

Worn leaves protected the fighting man-&-horse. 

Brelsí shot speedy arrows at the self-made dragon, attempting to fling one through the canvas sail which held that thing up. 

Ahstangír was too agile, & wound through the air away from each missile. 

At last, an ingenuity flung into Brelsí’s mind, & he strung three arrows at once along his bowstring. He held the weapon sideways, so the arrows stood-out left, center, & right. 

Speedy flier took no heed to this deed, & kept whirling-about as ever. Brelsí let the line loose… two arrows missed, but one shuttled with a rip right through the sail. 

Ahstangír roared in vast anger! He swooped-low towards the ground without forethought from himself or the man, & spit-up a foss towards Brelsí & Tentrach. 

Brelsí, ever creative, knew what he must do. As the wyrm writhed wonton, he stood-up onto the back of his horse-friend, & jumped into the air at the proper moment. He flung high, & grasped onto the shafts of the mast. 

With a giddy glee (perhaps somewhat careless), he thrust a seax into as much canvas as he could, before falling-loose & letting the bent-blade cast itself down in a great tear along the whole sail. 

Ahstangír belched with dizzying anxiety, & bucked himself throughout the air as he crashed. 

In that moment of triumph, Brelsí was thrown from the spiky spine, & fell into a puddle of venom (which was more poignant than the more-plentiful poison). 

Brelsí managed to catch himself, & keep his whole body from plunging into depth. But, he could not stop a part of his face from sinking-in. His skin blistered & burned, & his right eye steamed as he screamed. 

Good Tentrach came to his friend in an instant, & nudged his head onto the injured warrior. 

The running-creature wept, fearful, & his tears flowed onto the face of Brelsí. At that moment, brilliant light shone from the wound, & the eschar & pus sealed-away at-once. 

Though left with a purple scar & ruined eye, Brelsí survived. He hugged his arms around Tentrach’s muzzle, but pulled away in surprise. He turned to look…

Where leaves had torn in commotion, the good-beast's hair had singed-away, revealing opalescent armor beneath. Tentrach’s eyes gleamed with a fire yet unknown. 

“TENTRACH!” Brelsí shouted with joy. 

“YOUR BLOOD RUNS WITH THE MIGHT OF THE SHÖVIREN!” 

Tentrach whinnied & jumped-about with great flame in his heart. This was news to the pleasant animal, & he assumed powers he’d never known he had. 

The celebration was short-lived, as a wretched howl sobered the pair back into battle. 

Ahstangír rose from his crumpled fall, heaved by the little creatures of immense strength.  

Those thorny imps, who clung to Ahstangír with long claws, called-out to Brelsí & Tentrach with all-sorts of vile taunts. 

The rider was unfazed, & this annoyed the demons greatly. With free hands, they reached-down onto the spoiled soil, & collected jagged stones. They gnawed the rocks into piercing projectiles, & flung them at the duo. 

Tentrach turned from the stones as well as he could, but there were too many. One spikey thing cast through the air, & beat the hybrid horse square in his left eye. 

How Tentrach reared-up & whinnied! Brelsí held-on with what strength he had left.

The wound healed instantly. Like with that of Brelsí, half-magic tears can only do so much. Tentrach bled no-longer, but his eye was no-more. 

The two folk were alike in that way. 

Tentrach composed himself, & they faced Ahstangír head-on, with renewed determination. 

As the imps carried the serpent near, Brelsí called-out, though not in taunting:

“Friends! Friends of wild nature! The devil you carry has sapped your souls. This is not the life you’re meant to lead.”

The walking twigs only jeered. Brelsí persisted. 

“Is this truly the life you want for yourselves? A life burdened with pain, & enslavement? You should be free among the boughs & valleys! You would fare-well as good-folk in Dánílía. You could feast on a great abundance of fruit & fowl. Not in foul ruin as the armpits & asspits of Ahstangír!”

The front leg on the right, who was named Prátí, growled:

“We are well in our wicked ways! Ahstangír protects us, & treats us fair. He provides all the food we need with his choking death. Our families are safe because we help the dragon.”

Prátí’s neighbor, Frátí, agreed. 

“That is no dragon!” retorted the rider. 

“That is a swollen nadder, with an ego plump like a sausage. And what sort of family is one which cannot be together? I will bet you three gold pieces that Ahstangír has held you to service with a threat of violence against those you love. Am I not, now, a richer man?”

Ahstangír snapped his jaws towards the imps who had frozen in place, but he could not reach them. They had no retort for Brelsí, & only looked-on in despair.  

Brelsí knew he had reached something within their withered hearts. 

“Your poor families! Husbandless, fatherless, frightened, fettered in their trees without you. They are shivering & afraid in your absence, don’t you think? 

This is of no help, for yourselves or your families. You are entrapped under threat of death. Think about your miserable wives! Think about your children!”

One of the rear imps, who was named Trátí, piped: 

“I have no wife. Me & Grátí have always been together in companionship.” said he, gesturing towards the imp beside him, who nodded in adoration sullied by fear, & held-up a hand that sparkled with an amber-set ring. 

Brelsí’s heart hurt more. 

“See what Ahstangír has done to you! Forced under his slime, with no freedom together with your home & hobbies. 

That is no life for mischievous imps such as thee!” 

Brelsí paused, then spoke again. The sunlight carried his voice across the plains throughout the whole of the Bindland, where it was heard by all folks. 

“Friends: Prátí, Frátí, Trátí, & Grátí: you know what you must do! Redeem yourselves, save your loved-ones, & vanquish this vile wretch! Cast his blood into the soil, so it may undo the pain it has wrought!” 

The faces of Prátí, Frátí, Trátí, & Grátí twisted with vengeful anger, & their thorny claws grew into daggers. They thrust both hands deep into the shield-hull of Ahstangír, & pulled-back along his hull until they reared past his spade-tail. 

The steaming, rotten organs of the devil burst out onto the land already deluged with his filth. 

Tentrach neighed with proud triumph, & carried Brelsí towards the beast. At no moment did Ahstangír’s eyes flash with guilt or regret - only fear & hatred. 

Brelsí held Cloudcleaver high. The sword, woven with Röstr’s súþa, caught the sunlight & shot a golden beam into the eyes of Ahstangír. The gilded earthworm writhed with despair as his burning seeing-flames were outmatched, and sputtered into smoke in retribution for the losses of the friends. 

Brelsí gazed at the gurgling wyrm as he swung Cloudcleaver down between the beast’s eyes. Two halves of his head, cut perfectly even, swung to either side from the neck. The demon’s forked tongue was split in two. 

Tentrach rode ahead, & Brelsí dismounted beside Ahstangír. He looked down at the wyrm, said a prayer that the beast’s soul may be healed by the Hölhöd, & swung-down the shimmering sword over the end of his neck, cleaving the still-hissing head-halves clear-off. 

Blood flowed from the devil’s neck in great torrent, & flooded among the venom & poison that scoured the land. The landscape became a hellish sea of red, green, & yellow.

Prátí, Frátí, Trátí, & Grátí came hither. They bowed before the warrior, & exclaimed: 

“Great warrior, whose name we do not know… You have freed us from the shackles of the wicked lord’s rule. We are in your debt, to aid thee in any way we can. How may we serve you?”

Brelsí smiled at his new friends. 

“I am Brelsí, of noble Dánílshúl in the forest. I am granted the honor of bodyguard to Húlhöd Dáníl himself. 

I am he who is renowned amongst all clans for taming the wild horses of these vast plains. 

My friend & mount is the great horse Tentrach, whose blood flows with súþa of the shöviren. 

I have been a great warrior among many raids into the hostile lands of Keazadon & Þayvía. 

And to thee I proclaim: I am owed no allegiance, nor debt, nor service of any sort. I would not free you, friends, just to chain you into slavery once more. 

As free imps, I extend to you all an invite into citizenship among us of Dánílía. 

My task here is not complete. O Tentrach, beautiful beast, please gallop back home with our friends.

Prátí, Frátí, Trátí, & Grátí, if I can ask one thing of thee: Please inform my people I shall return with great news. A powerful feeling beckons my heart. Something powerful is going to occur, although I know not what.”

“O great warrior, Brelsí, you have our word on our honor. We shall see you soon.” 

Tentrach set-off, with the imps clutching his back. 

Brelsí watched his friends depart, & his heart was full of great compassion. He turned to face the black tree that loomed above, & felt a súþageal tug at his will. He tread towards the dead oak, & climbed upwards into its thorny crown. 

As he arose on the helm of the wood that stood sturdy like steel, he gazed downward into a wide pit that sank deep into the ground. 

Miasma swirled throughout the pit, & obscured any light which shone down. Brelsí’s widowed eye could see nothing as he peered. 

From his pack, Brelsí produced a torch which he ignited & clutched as he carefully climbed downward, into shadow-mist. 

Brelsí’s heart beat with tethering anticipation.

After many grapples down, Brelsí’s foot tread into air alone, & he fell suddenly into unseen water. He thrashed-about, heart pounding, holding his breath for what felt like eternity as he grasped about the grotto. 

At last, his hand met a root which slung down from the soil, & he pulled himself above the surface to catch his breath. As his wits gathered about himself again, he became aware of something in the water. 

A glow emanated from down below, somewhat in the shape of a human figure. 

Brelsí called out to the figure:

“HOLLO! Can you hear me? I’m coming to rescue you!”

As Brave-Mind prepared to plunge, something rose-up from the spot of light. Brelsí watched a bubble rise out of the water & schwomp around his head, shimmering with súþa’s purple aura. 

Brelsí felt the purpose of this enchantment was rather obvious, & confirmed as he descended: he could breathe underwater. 

The thin film also bestowed the hero a clarity of vision, & as he came near the glowing mass, he was overcome with terror & ecstasy. 

Brelsí looked upon the bound figure of Pergspelta, the guardian-spirit-of-the-land, landvite lieutenant of the Hölhöd. 

Brelsí tread, stunned & speechless. He inspected the divine face with wonder, & could’ve sworn he saw something akin to amused humor flash over the landvite’s face. 

Brelsí bowed, & unsheathed the longsword. He swung the Foe of Torrent against the black vines which the four bearers had wound around Pergspelta, & unleashed the deity from its imprisonment. 

“NOBLE BRELSÍ, YOU HAVE DONE WELL TO SAVE ME & MY LAND. THOUGH YOU SET-OUT TO PROTECT YOUR STATURE AS THE GREAT HORSE-BREAKER, I SENSE SOMETHING HAS GROWN WITHIN YOUR HEART-OF-HEARTS. 

YOU HAVE DISPLAYED GREAT SKILL, STRENGTH, INTELLIGENCE, DETERMINATION, & IMAGINATION. ALL OF THESE TRAITS DEEM YOU WORTHY OF RECEIVING THE HONOR, FROM MYSELF & THE HÖLHÖD, OF ESTABLISHING A NEW BINDCLAN, HERE UPON THIS STEPPE. 

THESE LANDS HAVE GONE UNCLAIMED, AS NONE HAVE THUS-FAR PROVEN THEMSELVES WORTHY TO LEAD A NEW CLAN TOWARDS HEIGHTS UNIMAGINABLE. I FORESEE THAT DESTINY IN YOU, BRELSÍ, & GIVE YOU MY BLESSING TO THAT END. 

YOU ARE HE WHO HAS TAMED THE HORSES OF MY WILDERNESS, YET YOU RISKED THE UTMOST TO SAVE IT FROM DESTRUCTION. 

UPON THE RESILIENT FORTIFICATION OF MY OAK, I BID THEE BUILD GREAT BRELSHÚL, TO SETTLE THE BRELS OF CLAN BREL INTO THE PLAINS OF BRELSINGSLIND. 

MY FRIEND, YOU WILL ESTABLISH THE FAMILY OF BRELSINGS, WHO WILL STRETCH ACROSS GENERATIONS INTO THE TIMELESS ANNALS OF LEGEND. 

GO, NOW, & PROCLAIM THIS FUTURE TO YOUR PEOPLE!

THE LIGHT OF THE LAND & SKY SHINES WITHIN YOU!”

Pergspelta vanished in an instant, as a ray of sunlight beamed into the black cavern. Brelsí was lifted into the air by hands within the shimmering beacon, his palms held-out as he rose. 

The splendid light coiled around the hero’s neck, taking the shape of a brilliant torc, which fulfilled into dazzling gold. Fiery red jewels beset the looped terminals.  

So it was, by his valiant acts of courage & compassion, Brelsí was bestowed the divine honor of leading a new clan into greatness & glory. The Brelsings became known across the land for their unrivaled might & power. 

Brelsí returned to the jubilation at Dánílshúl, & never before did a celebration roar with so much glee & spirit. 

Upon the light of dewy dawn, Brelsí bid farewell his friend, noble Dáníl. With the company of his kin & those who chose to forge a new future, Brelsí, Tentrach, & the Brelsings set-off towards the plains, destined to raise the grasslands into the most glorious halls of fate.