Author Topic: Return to the Island  (Read 2027 times)

0 Members and 1 Guest are viewing this topic.

Offline RobertAgira

  • Order Of The Pen
  • World Power
  • ****
  • Posts: 546
    • View Profile
  • Your Nation: Agira Latina
Return to the Island
« on: September 03, 2020, 08:48:57 PM »

RL island of Grímsey for reference

In the 1950's the government of Runavik had made an effort to colonise each and everyone of the multitude of islands that made up the stretch of rocks that headed South West from their mainland for about 2,000km. It was an experiment that was always going to be doomed to fail out of the hundreds of them some where barely big enough for anything more than a house or two and even where a whole village could be built the soils were usually thin and of poor quality meaning that even if crops could put down roots the harsh salty sea winds poisoned much of what grew. It therefore meant the people who did make the journey and took the chance had to rely on the dark cold seas for fish and whale along with the occasional passing sea bird, if the sea didn't take their fancy then it was about sheep and the wool trade. Needless to say the experiment died out, as time went by the children of those who did make the journey and established outposts got bored living in isolation or with the need to find husbands and wives ventured to the mainland often never to return. The life on these islands was tough even if you'd be successful however it was the lifestyle that needed youth and energy and as those on these islands had reached old age they'd either eeked out their twilight years as best they could or retired to the mainland. It meant that now some 70 years later nature was reclaiming some of these settlements which had been abandoned.

One of these islands was Vestmanna. It was towards the South West end of the island chain and had at one time been home to about 10 families who had tried to make a living from fishing and farming. They had struck lucky that the government had also determined that the island was perfect for a military communications post and that had seen them get their very own airfield, or as it was a single runway suitable for just light aircraft. As technology changed though the outpost became obsolte by the 1980's and soon the military left and weeds began to grow between cracks in the runway. Then in 2001 the last family left when Úlfur Stefánsson, his wife Sólveig and their 22 year old daughter Ásta had called it a day. They had packed up everything they owned and boarding a boat provided by the government headed for the capital of Koltur.

In the next 40 years Ásta had become a Gothi, she had worked first as someone helping build and restore shrines using the skills she had learnt living such a remote and rough childhood. As she had discovered more and more about the faith the more she had dedicated her life to the Gods until meeting her husband Sindri Ţórirsson. The pair had both been working running a retreat in the hills near Koltur where people could come and learn about the Gods and enjoy a few days of religious clensing. They'd enjoyed it but to them the world was becoming ever and ever more ungodly but thankfully about four years ago they had meet a group of likeminded people and since then Sindri and Ásta had turned their religious retreat into more of a gathering place for their friends and their needs.

Today though was an emotional day for Ásta as the small transport plane descended onto the runway. The flight over had taken several hours but there had been nothing to see out of the small windows except dark grey sea and the odd white break of a wave. It was tricky for the pilot to even see the runway as they began their approach because of the weeds and grass that had grown across it. They had considered bringing a seaplane but their pilot had told them it didn't matter as if this island wasn't suitable to land on there were a few others nearby. Ásta gripped her husbands hand tightly as they descended and the first flash of green grass could be seen outside and shortly after there was a bump as the pilot put them down on the rough runway.

"Welcome home Ásta" a young woman sat across from Ásta leaned forward and placed a caring hand on her knee. It was strange Ásta had loved her childhood on the island but had never really loved the island as such but suddenly she felt an overwhelming sense of emotion and began crying. Sindri instinctively took hold of his wife as she sobbed into his shoulder. There were twelve others onboard the aircraft beside Sindri and Ásta all of whom were in their early 20's. They stood patiently waiting for Ásta to stop crying as the pilot lowered the tailgate of the plane. The salty smell of the nearby sea filled the interior of the aircraft and despite their eagerness to leave and see the island the youngsters stood and waited happy to let Ásta be the first to set foot back on the island. The cockpit door opened and two others entered the fuselage, there was the pilot dressed in a flight suit with headphones around his neck and next to him in a military style uniform a bearded bald man.

"Ásta" the bald man addressed her quietly. "Ásta" he knelt down to be at the same height as her eyes, "It's time. It's time you lead your disciplnes out onto the island. Its only right you take us home." He stood and helped Ásta to her feet before watching her turn and with her husband just a step behind they made their way outside. It was as though she'd never been away except for all the extra overgrowth and the less well groomed sheep wandering the hills. They had stopped at the far end of the runway and just about 200meters away was the first of a group of stone cottages which now became Ásta's target. She walked ever quicker towards them and Sindri thought she was about to break into a jog and struggled to keep up. The youngsters followed some holding hands but all eager to see where their guide was taking them. She walked through a gap in one of the dry stone walls that through not being cared for over the last few decades had collapsed and now vegetation grew through it. She walked up to the door which was only barely still red as the sea air had stripped much of the paint off. The windows were covered with thick cobwebs and from the outside it looked like some of the roof had fallen in. She tried the door and it didn't budge clearly the lock had faired better than the wood around it. Sindri tried and had less luck.

"May I" A young man called Vilhjálmur gently moved her aside. "I think I can get us in." He set down a toolbox and set about his work which took less than 30 seconds and a metallic crack could be heard. He stood tried the door and it swung open on stiff hinges. Once he had got the door open Vilhjálmur waved a hand through the air removing a curtain of white cobwebs so that when he stepped aside Ásta could walk in. She hestitated at the threshold before plunging into the cottage she grew up in. She nearly cried again when she noticed the hole in the roof and the remains of what were clearly birds nests littering what had once been her families living room. The old item of furniture was still visible and there on the inside door was the names of the family carved. She remembered her father doing it the day they left and now her 62 year old fingers traced her fathers handy work.

"Soon we'll have this fixed." A voice said confidently. It was the bald man. Elvar Odinsson looked around and put down his rucksack in what would probably at one point been a kitchen. "How does it feel to be home?" He asked Ásta.

"This is better than home." She said wiping a few tears away. "This is the first of the Gungniröar, the reclaimation of our culture and our faith. Our Ĺlander siblings may have failed but we are made from hardier stock" she said proudly as she looked at the group of youngsters who had followed Elvar in his ambition guided by Ásta's childhood memory and steadfast faith. "You men and women, you will be the first to help us return Mundus to the Gods. Thank you." she walked round and embraced each of them. Ásta headed into what had been her bedroom and found one of the roof beams, standing on her tip toes she reached up and found the nook on top. Two of the Gungnir had come to watch what she was doing. She retrieved a small stone object and beckoned the two young women to come and look at what she had found. It was a small stone hammer of Thor, "I made this when I was eight years old because I thought it would keep evil away. When we planned to leave the island I left it here to protect the island. I think we can safely say its served its purpose." She dropped it onto the dusty stone floor and with her heel smashed it to pieces. "Its job is done, we are here now and we shall rid Runavik of all evil."

Offline RobertAgira

  • Order Of The Pen
  • World Power
  • ****
  • Posts: 546
    • View Profile
  • Your Nation: Agira Latina
Re: Return to the Island
« Reply #1 on: September 16, 2020, 09:52:59 PM »
Nearly 1million years ago the Giants of Dranfeld wandered the southern oceans. Each night they would revel in the starlight and as the sun began its climb above the horizon they would sink beneath the waves to sleep in caves or crevices to avoid the curse that the sunlight would turn them to stone. One evening though a family of three giants wandered east towards what would many many years later become Albion the child giant enjoyed playing in the waves and would pick whales up by the tale and toss them high into the air just to see them splash back into the ocean many miles from where they had once been. His parents watched his antics with amusement unnoticing the slow creep on the suns arrival. It was only at the last moment that the Mother Giant yelled a warning and the three of them tried to disappear beneath the grey waters. The Mother slipped under the surface just in time however the father in trying to help his son was caught mid dive just a short distance from where his son still gazing at the strange yellow ball he had never seen turned him to stone. The last gasp effort of the father saw him frozen as stone half in and half out the water mid attempt to submerge. Now the twin islands of
Ungbarnaklettur (the Baby Rock) and Fađirrokk (Father Rock) stood as outcrops above the Sea of the Antalian. This was the tale that the people of Runarvik told about the islands, Geologistics though gave a different story and that was one of fire from the ocean floor. Fađirrokk had at around the same time people believed the Giants were turned to stone erupted from the ocean floor spilling red hot magma to form an island. It was then just a case of the mighty ocean and the hash winds eating away at the rock to leave a near vertical 180meter high squat rock island. Off to one side was Ungbarnaklettur, probably no baby giant and just a outlet of the volcano. The two islands though now formed a unique and interesting sight on the outer parts of Runaviks island chain. It sat around 5km west of Vestmanna and now that island had a base on it Elvar Odinsson cast his eyes on the giants.

At the break of dawn he had been pleased to see the sea was flat. He wasn't a man afraid of the ocean but he also wasn't a fool. If he was going to cross 5km of open ocean he would prefer it to be like a pool table and so joyful that his day was getting off to a good start he said a prayer to Njǫrd to protect him and the three others as they crossed to the squat islands. He was joined by three young men all excited about the day at hand. Like every member of the Odinist faith they knew the stories and they understood they were exactly that but to see the place with their own eyes brought them back to their youth. "Carsten" Elvar was stood with the waves gently rolling onto the toes of his boots as the inflatable motor boat bobbed just in front of him, "Help me push off"

"Yes sir." Carsten swung himself out the boat and joined Elvar at the rear of the boat next to the small engine. He was a skinny short man with his ginger hair to his shoulder but swept back into a pony tail neatly tied with a leather band. His bushy beard was already getting soaked from the spray of the waves as he and his mentor pushed the boat into the sea. "Jump in" Elvar ordered and Carsten hauled himself into the ship using the thick ropes that ringed the top of the boat. Elvar had hauled himself over the opposite side and was already firing up the little engine before Carsten got settled. "Henrik" Elvar called to the man sat in the front with a pair of binoculars. "Anything in the area?"

"No sir." Henrik was fresh out of University where he'd studied Engineering. He was keeping watch for anyone who may seem them make the crossing as the islands were technically off limits having been designated a bird sanctuary. It wasn't uncommon for the island to have boats visiting to view the birds but normally they didn't arrive until midday at the earliest so they had plenty of time for this crossing. Henrik kept his glasses sweeping the area while they merrily bounced their way over to the cliffs.

From their approach they came face to face with grey slabs extending skywards and in that moment Elvar could see why people had created such stories of the island. They were so imposing up close and the group stopped for a moment to marvel at what they saw. "Sir." The forth man, Garik gently nudged Elvar who had become fixated on a Mother bird that was feeding her chicks before diving into the water close by and coming up with a mouth ful of small shiny silver fish to carry back up. "We should get to work."

"Yes, yes....or course." Elvar laughed to himself that he had been caught out escaping into the world of nature. He turned the boat and they began tracking clockwise around the island. There were no beaches, no bays just sheer grey walls but after about ten minutes of sailing they rounded a curve in the wall and a narrow opening in the wall could be seen and Elvar set the boat towards it. They soon slipped through the gap which was only about three meters wide only to find a small curved bay with a beach so small the boat would fit but only just. Even that beach was backed by the grey wall and once they had pulled the boat up onto the beach they knew the real work was about to begin. They took climbing harnesses from their waterproof bags on the boats and Garik dusted his hands with chalk.

"Lets get going hey" Garik said more to himself than the others before he gave a testing pull on the rock. He seemed almost surprised that the million year rock was solid and soon had hauled himself up a good ten meters before he affixed a clamp into a notch between two rocks, he clipped his rope into it and began looking for the next point. Behind him the ginger bearded Carsten was watching carefully the route their lead climber took to replicate his moves and once he was happy Garik was safely high enough above him he set off after him. It took about twenty minutes to reach the top for Garik and slightly less for Carsten who was able to follow the rope up. Once they had summited they were faced with nothing but an expanse of green rough grassland a few tufts of grass marked where some of the birds had set up home safe from any predators. While the two men would perhaps liked to have stopped and enjoyed the moment they still had work and now began hauling up various bags of equipment attached to ropes by the two men below. "You know Carsten, if Tug of War was a Mundus Games sport by the time we've done here I think we could have taken gold" Garik chuckled as he felt the triceps in his arm begin to burn from the effort. He was a climber and so was used to the feeling. He'd been climbing since he was three with his grandfather who had been a Gothi for the remote mountain community on the mainland. The old man had still been climbing well into his 70's and Garik remembered the rough palms that had often patted him on the back when he had done something that pleased the old man. When Garik had last seen him though he'd been sat in an arm chair in an old people's home hardly able to lift a tea cup to his lips yet alone haul himself up these grey cliffs.

Once the bags were at the top Henrik and Elvar clambered up. For them it was much easier and quicker as the two men at the summit could almost pull them up. Once everyone was at the top Elvar got his phone out and snapped an image of the four of them, all grins with the sea behind them and Vestmanna in the distance. He examined the photo and when satisfied sent it to several numbers on his list including Asta Odinsson back in her old ancestral home. "We leave the ropes for others" Elvar explained as he picked up his large rucksack and once the others had he took hold of a large canvas bag with Henrik. "Short morning stroll" He pointed with his nodding head towards the interior of the island and the men set off singing a traditional song in praise of giants as they went. The bags they carried were heavy but felt even heavier after the climbing but the men were used to such hardship. They had practiced for about a year now, they were men who considered themselves pioneers and warriors and their bodies were conditioned accordingly. It also helped that the island was extremely small. At its widest it was just 300 meters wide and 700 meters long this therefore meant the walk wasn't long but it still saw them stumble a little on the rough ground before they found the spot. Elvar assumed this had at one time been the crater of the volcano and a spiraling cone descended before them and at the bottom, about 30 meters below them a cave. "That's the place." Elvar trudged down towards it and the other three were amazed that when they reached the cave entrance Elvar seemed to open a metal box and flick a light switch. Carsten gasped a little as one at a time a series of lights illuminated before them. Elvar hadn't told them entirely what they were doing here other than setting up a supply cache. "I didn't think they'd work." Elvar shrugged before dropping the bag he was sharing and headed inside followed slowly by the others. The cave continued to spiral in a clockwise motion but you could stand upright with ease. In places the men thought they could see signs where it had been widened or heightened. "I've not been here since I was 14." Elvar slid his woolen hat off his bald head as he rounded a corner. A small room opened out before him, it had a pair of bunk beds but no bedding, a shabby wooden table and a four dusty chairs. I'm amazed the batteries still worked. There in the corner was a network of long life marine batteries that were powering the lights. "Thirty years ago my father and his friends built this ready for the day we shall bring about. I had hoped he'd be here to see if but those Ĺlander arseholes killed him. Now we shall do what he couldn't. Welcome home." he embraced the four men who had joined the Gungnir with as much zeal as he had when he was their age. "We live in the belly of the giant....for now." The men laughed and watched as Elvar put his rucksack on one of the bottom bunks. "I call that one" the three others rushed to claim what they perceived as a good bunk like kids on a school trip causing another round of laughter. Elvar left them for a moment to unpack their own gear, sleeping bags, blankets, clothing etc while he went to a spot on the floor that was covered in heavy wooden planks. He carefully slid the end of one out and moved it peering underneath with a torch into the darkness. Dust drifted across the beam of light but he could see carefully wrapped in cloth the long shapes which he hauled into the relative light of the cave. He unwrapped it and was pleased that at first glance everything seemed fine with the rifle. Naturally it was no longer state of the art equipment but the wooden stock and underbody still looked in decent condition. The metal upper body was free from rust and looking at the inner workings they seemed to have survived in tact. He took three more from the space and checked them too. "Gentleman we are now the official military of the Odinist Republic of Gungniröar, welcome to the army."

Offline RobertAgira

  • Order Of The Pen
  • World Power
  • ****
  • Posts: 546
    • View Profile
  • Your Nation: Agira Latina
Re: Return to the Island
« Reply #2 on: September 18, 2020, 10:25:45 PM »

On this the 3rd of Haustmánuđur in the first year of the Great Revival the Council of the Faithful declare that the islands once known as Ungbarnaklettur, Fađirrokk and Vestmanna shall henceforce fall under their authority and shall be known as the Cross Island Republic of Gungniröar. As the newest nation on Mundus our first act is to send Ingvar Odinsson to compete in the Mundus Games, sadly we have missed the deadline to enrol our own team however Ingvar shall be part of the Mundus Games Committe team. We wish him well and hope he shall bring back the nations first medals.

The Cross Island Republic of Gungniröar shall by the end of the year hold elections to select its first President in line with the constitution the population over the age of 16 have agreed upon. Broadly speaking the constitution is as follows.

1. The Republic shall be presided over by a President elected every 10 years.

2. The Republic shall elect an assembly known as the Council of the Faithful every 5 years.

3. The Council of the Faithful is open to anyone over the age of 16 who is able to prove they are members of a faith devoted to Odin.

4. The Republic shall extend the vote to all citizens over the age of 16 who are able to prove they are members of a faith devoted to Odin and can speak Norse.

5. Citizenship of the Republic is automatically granted to any individual who upon setting foot in the Republic register their arrival with the Republic, prove their adherence to a faith devoted to Odin and can demonstrate a basic ability to speak Norse.

6. A Court of Forseti shall be established as the highest court in the land. The Court shall be headed by judges who are nominated by the President but approved by the Council of the Faithful.

7. The President may enter into treaties on behalf of the Republic. The President may also veto any proposed law by the Council of the Faithful.

Several other articles shall be confirmed in the coming days.

In addition to these announcements the Cross Island Republic of Gungniröar shall place on record that it now claims all the rights and responsibilities outlined under the Fair Seas Concordat. With this in mind we forgo our internationally recognised rite to our North East facing EEZ maintaining only our territorial waters. We believe what would be our North East facing EEZ should remain with its former owner Runarvik. We however fully intend to utilise our own EEZ extending South West into the Antalian Ocean.

We look forward to working with our brothers and sister of Mundus.

Signed
Elvar Odinsson
Interim President of the Cross Island Republic of Gungniröar




Effective map of EEZ being claimed.

OOC - The Cross Cross Island Republic of Gungniröar is essentially a religious fanatical group of Odinists who have claimed three uninhabited islands that technically belong to Runarvik at present. The islands of Ungbarnaklettur, Fađirrokk and Vestmanna have been effectively abandoned by Runarvik for the last 19 years.


Images of the three islands claimed

Offline Paracambi

  • Order Of The Pen
  • Basically New Zealand
  • **
  • Posts: 207
    • View Profile
  • Your Nation: Paracambi
Re: Return to the Island
« Reply #3 on: September 22, 2020, 07:49:36 PM »

The Empire of Paracambi finds that at present it can not support the people claiming territory and declaring it the Cross Island Republic of Gungniröar. We do not believe they should at this time be recognised as a nation as despite the islands they claim being uninhabited we know first hand that much goes into protecting islands and surrounding waters beyond just a physical occupation. We are certain that within the last 19 years Runavik will have undertaken work managing the environment and safety of this region and that this shows they have not abandoned the islands. We do however admire the pioneer nature of what these people are trying to achieve and hope that the government of Runavik can reach a compromise allowing this group to remain residing on the islands while respecting the territorial sovereignty of Runavik

Signed

Emperor Benson of Paracambi

Offline Geo

  • Regional Power
  • ***
  • Posts: 349
  • Scratch a Liberal...
    • View Profile
  • Your Nation: Ni
Re: Return to the Island
« Reply #4 on: September 22, 2020, 07:58:12 PM »
Official Statement from the Tarc

The Tarc would like to offer Runavik its help in dismantling the “Cross Island Republic of Gungniröar” which has created itself on a group of islands belonging to the Runavik state. The Tac recognises that the claim of independence that the “Republic” has attempted to manifest is illegitimate, and that it has taken without permission Runavik land. It also recognizes that the “nation” is a glorified cult, with membership of the "nation" being restricted to those who follow a faith of Odin, living segregated from the rest of society. This statement is, as previously stated, an offer of help for the official Runavik state to dispute this “claim” to Runavik land, in any way that Aschlon is realistically able to.

Offline KrisNord

  • Order Of The Pen
  • World Power
  • ****
  • Posts: 560
    • View Profile
  • Your Nation: Nya Ĺland/Ui Cenneslaig
Re: Return to the Island
« Reply #5 on: September 24, 2020, 10:16:55 PM »

"Each blade of grass and each drop of water are given to us for mankind to cherish and profit from" so says the Hryggjarstykki[1]. With this in mind we support the initiative of these people to, without the need for outside help, settle land that is essentially neither being cherished nor profitted from. These people taking residency on the islands are not harming anyone nor are they taking away land or property of others. It is our belief they are adding to the world not taking from it. However the Hryggjarstykki also tells us that "As in Asgard hierarchy and laws make order." As such it is important those claiming to be "The Holy Council of the Cross Island Republic of Gungniröar" respect those things, we would not build upon a neighbours pasture just because his sheep are grazing elsewhere so we therefore can not just claim an island.

We believe however that there is a path forward and would urge Runavik to meet with these people and see if a way towards them being granted some kind of semi autonomous control over these islands while respecting Runavik law is possible. As brothers and sisters who love Odin we must appreciate these people are putting themselves through hardship to live a life connected to the last three of the Nine Noble Virtues, Self-Reliance, Industriousness and Perseverance. If requested we would be delighted to act as mediators.

We pray for a peaceful and happy conclusion to this dispute.

Odins Blessings

Stein Ulfsson
Head Gothi of Nya Ĺland
 1. an ancient "saga" which is essentially a poetic version of an Odnist tale

Offline Achkaerin

  • Lord Chief Justice
  • Global Superpower
  • *****
  • Posts: 3,967
    • View Profile
  • Your Nation: the Holy Empire of Achkaerin
Re: Return to the Island
« Reply #6 on: October 12, 2020, 07:06:42 PM »

It is perhaps unsurprising that when the name Cross Island Republic of Gungniröar that one tends to focus in on the first few letters of the last word, however we have as yet no suggestion that the people who claim to be part of this nation are terrorists. However we do not believe we can at this time recognize this as a nation, we take this position because the islands in question while uninhabited for nearly twenty years are claimed by Runavik, however that said nothing prevents this group of people from residing on those islands if they choose, we hope therefore that some agreement between Runavik and this group of people can be reached.

Senator Richard Chambers
Minister of Foreign Affairs for Achkaerin

Offline RobertAgira

  • Order Of The Pen
  • World Power
  • ****
  • Posts: 546
    • View Profile
  • Your Nation: Agira Latina
Re: Return to the Island
« Reply #7 on: November 28, 2020, 03:36:28 PM »
OOC - THE REBOOT

With the change of Runavik to The Drenovian Union I'm changing a few things.

1. The group were never old residents of the island. Instead they are descendants of people kicked off the islands in the 13th Century by the pagan equivalent of Knights Templars.

2. The group is still members of Norse religious groups utilising the name Gungnir.

3. The group is now reasonably larger. Say a group of 60 on the island called Vestmanna which is the larger of the three. On  Ungbarnaklettur (the Baby Rock) and Fađirrokk (Father Rock) there is a group of around 15.

Naturally I'll permit people to withdraw statements etc if they wish.