“Are you weeping, brothers? No, it cannot be. You are brave men, all. Warriors, proven in blood. It is the cold wind off the fjord that stings the eyes. It is the smoke from the fire. Aye, that is all.

“Are you not hungry, brothers? Here is hot meat, and fresh bread, and good food of all sorts that our women have prepared. There is beer and honey wine. Here, I will begin. Fill my cup.

“A toast: To the fallen.

“Remember, brothers, he died in battle, as is right. With a weapon in hand, he met his fate. Unafraid! Smiling! I should be so fortunate! When my time is upon me, I am like to piss myself.

“Will you not laugh, brothers?

“I am no skald. I am a poor storyteller. But I have a good memory. Remember. Our brother earned his name in a stand-up fight with the Redbeards, in the stony land where three rivers come down to the sea. You were there, aye. And you. He split the air with his howling. He split their skulls with his axe. And the waves were red as their beards.

“He bought his leadership with clever trading, masterful sailing, hard labour. But he bought our brotherhood with the smile of his axe. Who would not count that man his brother, who fought beside him?

“When the Brightlanders came in their green ships, and he tricked them into landing on the Breaker’s Fjord, instead of our own? He sailed down on them from behind and trapped them between the straight and the beach! Who did not love him when we broke and boarded them, cut them down and cast them into the waves? There is still the green dragon prow of their first boat above the door.

“That was a fine day. A good fight. You remember.

“Do not let my cup fall empty. Remembering is thirsty work.

“In the Giltwood, he took a shield blow that cracked his helm -- and probably his skull! He woke up in the mud after the battle was done. But he came up raging like a bear! Remember! Furious that we had finished the fight without him!

“There now, laugh!

“When he courted his woman, she would have none of him! ‘What will sway you?’ he asked her? ‘Ride you through the camp,’ she told him, ‘naked as you were born, backwards on your horse, and singing a child’s song.’ She thought never would he put his heart before his dignity. But he did it! His big horse braided up with flowers, like a baby’s pony. Bare as a newborn he was! Singing foolish songs at the top of his voice!”

“Yes, laugh!

“Here she is, the lady herself, who so humbled our brother. And worth it!

“Here are his sons, fine strong boys. You will be mighty as your father. You will be great sailers, and fair traders, and fearless fighters as he was. When you ever get your beards!

“His lovely daughter; she will snare a man with one look, and break him with one word! Beware, for she too is fierce as her father, and with her mother’s beauty.

“So he lives on, so his blood continues. He is not gone. The ghost of him is among us.

“Drink up, brothers. To his family; to his legacy.

“Do you still mourn? He died too soon? Think you so? Yet, he was old! Two score of years and some he saw. A score and seven years did we follow him. It seems a lifetime, or more. It was a hard hel-winter, the year of the comet -- who remembers that? Not many. That makes us old! Doddering grey-beards, the lot of us!

“Fill my cup. I’ve no teeth left to chew my meat, so give me mead!

“This last was a hard fight. Truth. You were there. You all were there.

“This young scout carried down the warning: Fellriders, all warlike in the night. Deep-winter desperate now, come to raid on us. We had hardly time to make ready.

“Cold? There was ice in the teeth of the wind. The spray was like needles. Our beards were like hoary winter moss. Our lashes were stiff. Like the wights of legend we looked, in our icy furs and frozen hair. And our great brother, like the devil-king himself, his helm all glittering with frost.

“Before the dawn they came, creeping in at doors to murder us in our beds. They found only straw and matting for their knives! The beds were empty! And when they blundered out again, then our brother led the charge, on a thunder of boots like an avalanche down the fjord. We hit them like a blacksmite’s hammer!

“But they were many, and we could not hold ranks among the dwellings. So it came down, as it must, to the melee. Face to face and eye to eye. Shield and axe, and daggers in the first light.

“A long fight. A bitter fight there among beloved places.

“Our brother raged with grief to see our home become a battlefield. He hacked his way among the Fellmen, careless of himself. We could not keep up with him, and he was surrounded and separated from us.

“The berskerker rage came on him then. Fifteen men he killed, maybe more. Like a wild beast, like a fiend of Hel he laid into them. And they cut him, yes, they hurt him. But he fought until the last of them was driven off in terror and defeat. Only then did he go down. The weight of his wounds piled upon him and he fell. And when we found him there among the bodies of the slain, he was already dead. His eyes were open, and clear. There was a smile upon his face. So I know the Valkyrja received him, and brought him to the Hall of Heroes.

“We laid him in a boat and gave him up to sea and flame. Back to the realm where the world began.

“Our brother is dead.

“Each man must die, in his time, yet it is a hard thing. He was wise, and fair, and brave. We did love him, every one. So we will honour him thus: we will go on. We will be strong. We will trade fair, and treat honest.

“And if we must fight, then woe to our enemies!

First time attempting a journal in Eclipse, as I see this travesty is steamrolling forward tomorrow...

So, I've read about migrating "saved" notifications to Eclipse... but I have no idea what that means, and I can't find it explained anywhere. So, I'm braced to lose a whole shit-ton of stuff from my inbox.

I understand Eclipse is also not supporting sta.sh writer. THIS IS GARBAGE!

DA FINALLY gave us a useful literature submission tool and now they are trashing it?

And I see they've TOTALLY fucked up featuring art in a journal.. thanks fuckers.

I just LOVE paging through 6 menus to select one image at a time for all thirty something images I want to feature...

All Devious. No Art.

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