Brothers, Sisters, Cousins:
I write you with heavy heart, and a fear for our people. Yes, I, an Oorlog Kampioen, feel and speak to fear. You must accept this for a truth from one proven no coward by many a scar, and hear my words with solemn ears.
I write not just to the Wylde Beschermonz like myself, but to our cousin the Romani of Kosmara and the strange mists that I hear now make for travel to other land. Vreemd, outsiders, they walk into our lands now. They pass through our Seizoen Gronds on their path, and who knows what they may try. It is possible even that they bring with them Macht Gulzig, who will try to grasp the power of the Wyldes for their own use. As happened so long ago to the brothers, we could see happen again if our vigilance fades.
Yet the Beschermonz Staad has spoken, and the words have been cast. To allow the Vreemd entry spoke the Geit Stam, the Brumaline Stam, the Boreanors Stam, the Vos Stam, the Vernalk Stam and the Slangt Stam. To deny entry spoke the Algid Stam, the Adelaar Stam, the Valk Stam, the Eenhorn Stam and the Schildpad Stam. It was the Nihilrukh Stam that would not cast words to aye or nay, calling foolishness to all who walk this path. But we like foolishness, so we watch still.
But for this dream, I am not to speak of our people divided, of our cousins who claim sumadjia to us and we protect as close kin: I am to speak of the kinship we do not yet have, but must call upon now.
I call to all Besche, that vreemd may call “Barbarian”. I call to all Romani, that vreemd may call “Gypsy”. I call to you to come and join us in our land, to come together with kin and protect what we have held for too many begettings to count, and protect it from these outsider.
They come and we promise not to fight them. They come and we swear to uphold the words that were cast. They come and we swear to fight common enemy together, and to heal them of their wounds. They come, and we swear that if a single vreemd remains in our lands on the dawn of the Langste Dag, every last one that stand shall feel our blades. And every one that ever entered shall know our anger, for to betray one among the Wylde Beschermert is to betray all.
I call to you, cousins of my blood, brothers and sisters of my spirit, to stand with us now and protect our lands from those who claim to save it. May it be an ending of peace, that we only should meet and break bread together as we tell tales of our many journeys. But should it not be so, then may we spill blood together and become true kin through the mixing of our lines.
Dael Nihilrukh, Oorlog Kampioen of the Nihilrukh Stam
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