Tianxia:Garme Autras

Garmē Āutrās is a prolific and well-traveled god of semi-terrestrial forging. His travels, feats, and actions have left permanent influences on ancestral traditions throughout Europe, setting many an example for folk heroes and craftsmen. Overseeing the work of steelmakers and blacksmiths is what he has been tasked with by the Dievai of the Celestial Bureaucracy. He is associated mostly with the Old Prussians, a Baltic people that have long since been absorbed and assimilated. However, his ancestral title is still retained by him as his name, since it was indeed the first of the Balts that orchestrated his origin. At least 4000 years ago, an effigy-mound was raised by skilled wizards and craftsmen in modern Kaliningrad, and was given life by Televelis, a heavenly god of metal-creation.

Currently, Garmē is the leader of the Romuva-Suomenusko Alliance, a conglomeration of "Native Believers", wizards, and shamans in the Baltic. Their operations mostly deal with bookmaking, heavy industry, and controlling the world's amber trade, but also offer teaching in the form of magic and martial arts. Their presence is also important for diverting potential insurrections of Hiidet, and provides an excellent source of immediate faith for the Dievai.

Appearance
Garmē appears in the form of a man of about twenty-seven to thirty-five years of age, of average, sturdy build and height that is somewhat tall for the time he was born in. His hair is of an extreme copper color, glinting with numerous different hues in varying light. His nose is straight and heavy, and his eyebrows are low and prominent. The eyes that he possesses are green, and often have a sort of “blank” expression to them, making his expressions quite hard to read. Garmē’s complexion is a very light pinkish-white, with a number of freckles adorning his face. He has a copper-colored beard, which is somewhat scraggly, though is kept under control by cord ties here and there. He normally wears his hair tied back in a bun, secured by two hairsticks – one is made of twisted bronze, and another is made of a special, unrusting iron that he forged. However, he might just wear his hair slack. For normal clothing, he commonly wears a white linen undershirt, a heavy woolen tunic that is embroidered with hammer motifs, a leather belt with bronze buckles, woolen leg wrappings, baggy woolen trousers, and rather simple leather-soled shoes that are open and fully laceable.

Background
Spin words I shall,  Spin words of many a tale rank  ''With death, deceit, and retribution. ''

Come to know the ages of man  In all their splendor and majesty;  Knowledge sacred spilled forth  ''Thither from the High Ones. ''

The Bronze Age of Europe
 Beginning in the Copper Age, the horizons of the Corded Ware and Comb Ceramic Cultures interlocked, forming a truly magnificent mixture of Chalcolithic farmers and hunter-gatherers. The “Balts” and “Slavs”, as they were first known, had not achieved a linguistic horizon yet, though the Indo-European people had already populated the area east of modern-day Poland for quite some time. Their horses had traveled from afar - from their area of origin in Southern Russia, they established a crucial foothold among cultures long forgotten to time. Already, stories were spilling out from this people about a god who fell many a foe with his thunderous axe, among numerous other visceral tales. The great sun and moon were to crest the sky, pulled by huge metal chariots drawn by horses that could have only had divine origins. As this great Age of Copper was coming to its close among the old cultures of Europe, the technology for Bronze had crept its way out of the Caucasus region and Aegean into places such as Central and Eastern Europe.

To the west of the Comb Ceramic culture and the Eastern Corded Ware horizon, the technology for making bronze was known quite well. An alloy of copper and tin, bronze could be made into far more useful tools than pure copper could, including longer, sharper, and tougher weapons of war. The aforementioned western areas were highly focused on keeping their technology to themselves, leaving the Comb Ceramic Culture in the Chalcolithic as late as 1900 BC. Nevertheless, this would change soon, as the organization of a very large cultural group was taking place in these early days… the Balto-Slavs to the east of Poland would soon make their presence known to Eastern Europe, and carve out a place for themselves within the archaeological history of Europe.

Beliefs and Rituals of the Early Indo-Europeans and Balto-Slavs
 It has been said by the Finns of the North that certain bygone tribes to the Southwest of them possessed pre-disposition to prowess as shamans, calling forth spirits and becoming one with all planes of existence. These individuals were purported to have connections with the gods themselves. In modern times, such stories pervade the books and chants of the peoples of Northeastern Europe, though pagan, pre-christian traditions are no longer practiced. That was certainly not the case in the early medieval era and Migration Period, where shamanism was still rife in the immediate east, and such practices were even more common in the middle of the Bronze Age.

The Balto-Slavs had still worshipped a god named Perkwunos, the “Great Striker” that possessed one of the most powerful tools in history – his own axe. He caused thunderstorms, rode a chariot drawn by goats, and had a temper that was unmatched by any of the gods around him. Such temper would cause him to strike the very World Tree when he found out that Miniks Who Bears the Moon, the husband of Sauliā Who Bears the Sun, cheated on the sun-bearer with the tantalizing goddess Ausrine. His only immediate, close-by authority above himself was Dyēus, also known as the Dyēus Ph2ter, who had birthed the gods of the Indo-European people some time before the Neolithic Era. Dyēus Ph2ter had often spoke of some beings that were even higher in status than himself, though only to certain children of his. The “sky father” had kept Perkwunos’s anger in check from atop the great World Tree, appearing to the council of gods only when Perkwunos would again lash out.

Exaltations of gods through the use of an effigy was also extremely common, and the Balto-Slavs became famous for their exquisite use of effigies and totems. Sometimes, carvings of symbols and faces were made in wood, and placed into the ground. These totems would be given offerings of mead, food, and often gold to make the gods rich. On occasion, a huge figure would be wrought from the Earth, and sometimes burned to signify the passing of seasons. The ever-aging and wise Dyēus Ph2ter was generally pleased by this, allowing small amounts of benefits to the cycles of life. However, even though the gods directly below Dyēus Ph2ter would generally let him do his far-reaching and slow work, they would sometimes watch the course of worldly events from the World Tree. Thus, they would naturally see some instances where the Balto-Slavs were specifically exalting one of them, and they would promptly perform what was known as a miracle to humans.

The Great Pleasing of Perkuns
 At the time of roughly 2000 BC or earlier, one instance of exaltation of a High One would have a lasting effect on a specific Baltic people who were among the first to break away as a specifically distinct cultural group along the Baltic Sea. They were known as the Prūs, and would keep their name for a millennium and a half, leaving behind a massive legacy of their culture. This time, a personal gift from the gods was in order for those who delivered a massive exaltation, starting during the Spring Solstice, and ending after ten days had past. So, dear reader, here begins a tale of the creation of a being that would give great gifts to a culture that had its goals set on claiming much around them. Read, and perhaps you too shall receive a glimpse into the past!

CHANT LOUD, CHANT WELL! CHANT LOUD, CHANT TO THE SKY! CHANT LOUD, CHANT TO THE THUNDER! Hear this tale, brethren and sistren, hear of the Prūs shamans and wizards, hear of how they granted unto their people a forthright prize! Spring Solstice, it was, spring solstice it was When a tribe of strength began their chanting; So unmatched they were in number and prowess That no one would dare disturb them in their ritual Lest wound-watered fates rest on the foemen that did.

Drunk with an elixir were these men, Giddy and lively all the same. “Are we not the great Prūs? Are we not the sons of Deiwis?” Shamans and wizards alike sang and drank deeply of their honeyed elixirs into the night; The festival of Uzgavenes went on with might and vigor.

A mound of earth was hewn in a firepit Likened to a king’s lauded burial; The twisted warris placed promptly Into the mound, earthen soil covering the scarlet-brown surface; All was lit by flickering flame round the mound.

Trenkete, trenkete, all ye earth-movers, Shape the great effigy into a form divine, Such that the Great Being is pleased. Trenkete, trenkete, working as ever, Striketh they the soil.

Into the day and into the night, chanting loud as ever, “Ukadebbaisis Perkūnai Deiwe, Ukadebbaisis nūsan Deiwe…” Flames wrap the shaped mound and seal its surface; Keen wizards display their wise wiles and power.

Perkūns gazes from the great World-Tree And hears the spun chants of laud and glory; Twelve ožkos lay upon the earth, their necks all cut With wound-water flowing well, Their life-essence joyous.

Into the day and into the night, chanting loud as ever, "Sēn swāise spārtin, sēn swāise warrin Sendāis mans wissans, spārtinais wissans!” Thunder broke the sky, rain squalls came, Yet stalwart flames were not extinguished.

The great axe-bearer thought these men steadfast In both mind and in strength; Called forth Televelis, did he, from the smithy of the great tree, Televelis, eternal wonder-worker, Televelis, smith of all universal skill.

Perkūns the High One chanced a favor from wonder-worker eternal, "Kindred folk exalt me in my power, now I must present them with goods. Skilled smith, allow me part of thy soul, for a plan I have, A plan I have to enrich those who have earned With forge-knowledge bountiful.”

Gaze into the violent, ancient eyes of Perkūns, and one shall comply; Televelis tugged the life-essence, and Perkūns bore his mighty axe, Swinging the foe-bane down on the part of equally mighty soul; Forsooth, this was a split of power – the soul-part shot out with such force, That the World Tree shook and creaked.

Fair Zeminnika witnessed the fall of this thing to her soil, Feeling the life-essence and knowing well That selfsame object would be the source of much prowess; Prowess granted to mortals, and yet Still inkling towards a future of uneasiness.

Thunderous roar of power, thunderous roar of birth, An ancient tide rocked the effigy-mound; Naught but a single person dared to stand by the structure; In its tumult and violence, it melted with a glow of great brightness, And much was in the way of danger.

Nay, these stark men fled not at this sight – Knew they that the High Ones had sent their bidding; No fools of men were they, but those who had indeed earned In their wide-reaching wisdom; So they moved not.

The very land burnt, Zeminnika swore a cry of pain, And Sauliā reached to protect her dear Žaltys of slithering gait; Crows and goats, too, fled from the heat, Yet all would subside in time; Unbearable brightness would be quelled.

Foresight had its will fulfilled, And the object ceased to shine; The pain of Zeminnika was no more, Her dear nature safe, Safe from the act divine.

Black was the smoldering mound, dark its visage, No life-essence to be felt; Yet from this, a rumble gripped the area, Onlookers confused but ever stalwart; Something was astir.

Great spires of bronze shot from the mound Higher into the sky than anyone could have seen; Aye, even the gods that resided in the World Tree witnessed this, A great power birthed and unfettered, Signaling the coming of bronze to a people.

From out of the largest spire came a man, Strong-eyed and steadfast in resolve; Of the copper thread was he, a fitting Feature of one who could perpetrate such wonder, His other talents yet unknown.

With a flick of strong fingers, the spires Collapsed and melted, returning Once more to Zeminnika from whence They came – truly, a son of Televelis Had graced Zeminnika with his step.

This has been heard, words have been weaved; Hail to the High Ones, hail to the efforts of mortals! Forget not the great legacy of metal, For it is our glorious upheaval, And forget not the deeds of Garmē Āutrās. 

This story was told through an oral tradition from the earliest of the Prūs, and by the time in which it took place, the Prūs had then referred to the god Perkwunos as “Perkūns” through a linguistic change. Thus, from the effigy-mound and from the splitting of the soul of Televelis, the highest god of the smithy, a new god was created upon the Earth.

Bearer of the Brazen
 Garmē Āutrās, or “The Warmth of the Smithy”, in the Old Prussian language, was dubbed as such by the Old Prussians (what the Prūs are known as nowadays, and it also might be easier now to say Balts or simply Prussians) shortly after they witnessed his abilities. Indeed, Garmē was deserving of his name, since he brought the knowledge of melting just the right amount of copper and tin to produce wonderful bronze, and the specific hammering motions required after the molding of bronze was finished were also brought by him. Lines of exceptionally skilled Baltic metalworkers would be taught by Garmē, and some of them claimed direct descent from him (though this was, of course, highly fallacious). The Prussians were extremely grateful to him, first promising him something to hold back his hair – this would culminate in a beautiful three-pronged bronze hairstick, twisted and shaped in the form of Televelis’s godly hammer.

No longer were the people of the Eastern Baltic stuck in the cuprous days of the Comb Ceramic Culture – the Baltic Bronze Age had been brought to them by the gods, sending their gratitude for the wisdom and prowess of shamans and wizards. Bronze was a fine material, and an easily-workable one, too. Televelis had expressed this earlier, as he considered it to be among the more “tame” and “artful” metals of the world. For sure, it could be used in nearly every facet of life, from the shining solar pendants of the Balts to the adornment of shields. He saw fit not to take his son under his wing at this time, as there was little evil innate in the ways of bronze. Nevertheless, Zeminnika, the goddess of the land, still had a nervous inkling towards a more malicious future, and this was not a far-fetched notion.

Bearer of the Ferrous
 By the time Televelis had first isolated iron, he wanted to wait for the right time to instruct his son that it was good and proper to use. The Early Iron Age was already taking Europe by storm within Central Europe circa 800 BC, the Proto-Celtic tribes in Northern Italy and Southern Germany branching out greatly with their Hallstatt Culture. A couple centuries earlier than these peoples, iron production had flourished in Greece and the Eastern European steppe. The Proto-Germanic cultures in the North, too, were spreading out, and they would meet the Hallstatt and La Tene Cultures in an extraordinary exchange of metalworking knowledge. Again, the Eastern Baltic areas would be left in the dust at this time, though Garmē could simply not have that. In an astonishing move, he begged his father to let his people have the marvelous wonder that was iron. Still able to trust his son, Televelis accepted his plea, and sent Garmē off to the Balts once again.

Once he returned to his birthplace at around 600 BC, Garmē instructed the Prussians on how to extract iron from their ore-rich bogs, and gave an enormous demonstration on refining ore through different sorts of furnaces, without using any of his magic. Televelis witnessed this from the World-Tree, and felt as if he had made the correct choice.

Garmē eventually became bored with the simplistic hum-drum of showing basic smelting techniques, and without the direction of his father, he began doing exactly the same thing that he did in the Bronze Age – employing his powers to train wizards and shamans to fuel their forging through magic. This would start when Garmē secluded himself on a sheer cliff overlooking the Baltic Sea, and invited those who could brave the craggy and slippery boulders to become his pupils. Now, the bronze hairstick that he was given by mortals had turned a greenish color, and he wanted to show that he was capable of much more – in a days’ work of much more strenuous action, Garmē forged a small pattern-welded hairstick that would never rust. Such an ornament signified that the Age of Iron was upon the Baltic, and it had brought with it an increase in the fear of the gods.

The Frustration of Perkuns
 Not ignorant of what was occurring in the mortal world, Perkūns and Televelis had witnessed what had occurred over the last century, and both became concerned for different reasons. Perkūns, knowing that his own axe was of a godly iron, was worried about what would happen if such a thing would fall into the hands of mortals. Televelis thought this to be nonsense, as his son could not perform the finer matter-creation and divine blessings that he was personally capable of performing. The father of the forge-warmth was concerned not with this, but with his recent experiences with iron, though he again decided not to inform his son about this, for he could still trust him. Their argument was quelled by Deiwis, the name of the praiseworthy Dyēus Ph2ter at the time. Deiwis reckoned that events, if they were to move momentously, would make themselves known with time, which was the natural way that things moved. Even with the words of the Sky-Father, Perkūns remained skeptical of the power that Garmē had shown to mere mortals.

From atop his residence on the cliff, Garmē had taught hundreds of men and women about the strength of iron, but he did not inform them about its potency and vile character. Many foolish magicians abused the knowledge that they had gained from him, creating disasters and killing several folk in the process. It would seem that the people whom Garmē was instructed to teach were not all perfect, and had not all truly earned. All the while, with this knowledge of making steel weapons, the Prussians were readying themselves for a great push northwards, looking forward to unite the scattered Baltic peoples under one leader. This was, unfortunately, impossible to be done through peaceful means, as envoys sent from the Prussians were sent back to their homeland with nothing but words of bemoaning and anger for the mistreatment they incurred under their foreign hosts. This was in a large part due to the fact that East Germanic tribes had now occupied several parts of Eastern Europe, even as far away as the lands of the Sarmatians, making ethnic unification extremely difficult and impractical.

These Eastern Germanic tribes had adopted the runic alphabet by this time, (c. 200 BC) and many of their individuals were hardy enough to visit Garmē on the sheer cliff that made his residence, carving and writing runes that told of his praiseworthy abilities. No longer would the Bearer of the Brazen and Ferrous be a secret god of the Prussians, but someone who could potentially be known to other cultures. Such a development was extremely dangerous for the Prussians, as other Balts and Eastern Germanic peoples would want to put this god under their control. Some of his personal forge-wares were even stolen from right under his nose, no doubt by magical creatures conspiring with the Germanic tribes. Garmē simply could not have this, so he mulled over a very shady plan to lead the Prussians to great victory, all the while erasing notions to the outside that he existed.

The first part of his plan was orchestrated when Garmē stole divine javelins from the arming stores of Perkūns, all the while masquerading as his father, who often checked upon similar tools. These javelins were immensely powerful, able to tear the ground asunder with a simple throw, and cause month-long thunderstorms to appear in a wide radius. Such terrifying tools were beyond even what Garmē was capable of making, but he truly wanted to erase cultures from history, and that would require the wrath of higher gods. Garmē would also soon lead an army of Prussians into lands to the Northeast and Southwest of them, demanding subjugation and fealty from the Balts and Germanic peoples that they met. To the Southwest, the tribes gave up when they witnessed the overwhelming force, but the cultures to the Northeast replied in great force. Javelins and spears pierced many a son and daughter of Prus in a matter of three days, fueling great ire within Garmē’s ancient mettle. His rage and fury was to finally be seen on Žemyna’s land, and wound-water would again flow well. A shorter account from the Eastern Germanic tribes describes what violence had first occurred:

The first of them seemed to raise His arms and chant a rune most vile, Shooting from the bones of the giant Great walls of iron.

Rivers of fire soon flowed forth, Just this single thane Had engulfed both Geat and Balt In scorching fury.

Then the being raised his arm And conjured a terrifying javelin; Threw it, did he, All was torn by its wrath.

The bones of the giant quaked Under the fury of a god; Then the sky broke in thunder, Not a noble omen in sight. 

Here, the “bones of the giant” that the East Germanic peoples refer to is that of Ymir, a dead giant whose bones were said to make up the earth. Germanic mythology of most different linguistic and cultural stocks was quite similar to one another, and the Norse believed this, as well.

After Garmē had quenched the Goths in his rivers of fire and reaped a bloody harvest with the javelins of Perkūns, his people were in awe at the might of their overseer. Torrential rain flooded the coast of the Eastern Baltic, sinking a small portion of the land into the sea and creating even more swamps. A culture that had flourished here before was nearly wiped out by the might of a god and his people, the remainders of which scattering and finding solace with their cousins, the Gretungi, in the steppe of Eastern Europe. Such an act of outright devastation was awe-inspiring to those who witnessed it, and the East Germanic peoples did not dare to return to the Northeast Baltic for centuries. However, what had been accomplished was truly a heinous act, and as a Norse proverb once said, “Fear the reckoning of those you have wronged.” The reckoning would not come from the people that Garmē bloodied, but from the gods that oversaw his very birth. Seeing what had occurred and realizing that his tools had fallen into the hands of an irresponsible god, Perkūns nearly hit himself with his axe in rage, only to have his hand stayed by the calm Deiwis. This matter, Deiwis said, should be handled accordingly: by punishing the perpetrator of the act with Three Great Punishments. So, the two Baltic deities of the dead, Pekols and his brother Patollo, were brought forth by Deiwis, and sent upwards into the realm of humans. Patollo created a diversion in which he would appear to reason with Garmē to come with them quietly, all the while silently observing his brother weaving his invisible head-wrappings around Garmē. When the wrappings were complete, a curse was put on them by Patollo, and Garmē could not resist without his spiritual essence being greedily tugged at by the overseers of death. If only one of them had come to him, he could have put up a good fight, but they were two, and powers were rendered useless in the face of the full power of the two who guarded the doors of the Baltic afterlife.

Garmē was brought before the full council of gods in the Baltic World Tree, the section of the Celestial Bureaucracy that oversaw the lands of most of Eastern Europe for thousands of years. When Televelis saw his son wrapped in the cursed death-wrappings of Pekols, he bowed his head in shamefulness. Not only did he fail to instruct his son about the ways of iron, but he also failed to be present when Garmē masqueraded as him to steal the tools of Perkūns. No matter, though, for all of the blame was to fall upon his son, all of the atonement for acts of rage and unbalance would be directed towards Garmē. As the council proceeded in their examination of what had happened, some called for Garmē to be put to an ultimate death. Some favored a more subtle approach – for instance, the return of the part of the soul of Televelis that was severed to make the violent one. In the end, however, Deiwis’s decision was a far more tumultuous and sly one than had been thought of by the other High Ones, and it went as follows:

''I, the Sky-Father Deiwis, concede that Three Great Punishments will be bequeathed unto one who has perpetrated many a heinous act of late, Garmē Āutrās. These punishments are to fit that of a god, and not of a mortal. The first of these shall be a prohibition from his birthplace, lest he suffer a death not simply of his body, but of his spirit the same. The violent one shall no longer be able to assist his people in war. I speak of a second, and this is a stalwart reply to the great crime that Garmē has committed among us: since he has thought it meet to take the form of his father, then an old blacksmith he shall be, for a time. His body will be seen to age, and only return in a certain number of winters. The third I speak of shall be the inevitable – since Garmē has been deemed untrustworthy in his action, he shall be put to death by Pekols and Patollo after the magic of change wears off. We shall all see to it that these punishments occur.''

Tutelage under the Eternal Wonder-Worker
 Thus, Garmē’s form was seen to age greatly to about the same age as his father had appeared. The enclave that he had hewn from bronze and twisted iron had been abandoned, and sunk by Žemyna into a great bog in a swamp that would eventually become part of the area of modern-day Elbląg. So deep under the swamp was the structure sunk, that not even the roots of trees could reach it, making sure that it could never be retrieved by humans. Numerous magical creatures that had inhabited the aforementioned area were commanded by the Balto-Slavic gods to be on the watch for the return of Garmē, and would report his location to them if they caught sight of him.

During 50 BC, Televelis brought his son to the relatively remote land of Eastern Finland from across the Baltic Sea, where he decided he would finally tell him about the ways of iron and how to properly quell one’s own ferocious tendencies brought on by iron. It was true that Televelis was the first known worker of iron and other metals in the mythology of Eastern Europe, so he had much to say about such things. In Finnic lands, Televelis was worshipped in the same vigor as in Baltic lands, though under a different name: Ilmarinen. Garmē sat on as his father orchestrated what had occurred when he first forged bronze – the metal, which he had brought to the Balts nearly 1800 years ago, was rather tame in essence, not possessing a birth of great fury. Iron, however, brought with it a vile essence that was introduced into it by the very nature of its forging. It could be hardened and tempered into terrifying tools by introducing carbon and several other elements that could alloy with it. Iron enticed humans, spirits, and even gods to perform war against one another because of its visceral essence, and the knowledge of the forge needed to be carefully distributed in order to prevent suffering among the living. The only way to fully fix this was to “converse” with the essence of the iron while putting it into a furnace, such that the blacksmith would know exactly what temperatures to use and what sort of liquid for a quench would be needed to seal hardness for good. A Finnic poem recounts Televelis’s first experiences in dealing with iron:

"Ilmarinen thus made answer: 'I will take thee from my furnace, 'Thou art but a little frightened, Thou shalt be a mighty power, Thou shalt slay the best of heroes, Thou shalt wound thy dearest brother.' "Straightway Iron made this promise, Vowed and swore in strongest accents, By the furnace, by the anvil, By the tongs, and by the hammer, These the words he vowed and uttered: 'Many trees that I shall injure, Shall devour the hearts of mountains, Shall not slay my nearest kindred, Shall not kill the best of heroes, Shall not wound my dearest brother; Better live in civil freedom, Happier would be my life-time, Should I serve my fellow-beings, Serve as tools for their convenience, Than as implements of warfare, Slay my friends and nearest kindred, Wound the children of my mother.' -Kalevala, Rune IX: The Origin of Iron 

Learning one of the most fundamental secrets of forging iron, one that was known only to Televelis and some of the highest gods and goddesses of the world, Garmē tested this out with some of his own creations, one of which involved creating the blade of a personal sword – Waisnankalabijan. The fruits of his forging steadily became much more peaceful implements, some of which would not harm others unless the balance of fate and godly law intended it. Buckles for the belts of women, blades for the swords of heroes… the very purpose of such objects that Garmē forged seemed to change greatly.

The Story of Kalevala – Desire, Life Cycle, and Retribution
 Ever are men taken by greed, The great downfall of us all; Fair maiden’s allure Breaks down mightiest warrior, And brilliant flecks of gold Lure to death the once great. 

Staying in Finland was not truly a peaceful or undisturbed matter, as the Northern part of the land was lorded over by a great youkai sorceress by the name of Louhi. She commanded great amounts of youkai of varying power, and even had the approval of Perkuns, whom she referred to as Ukko, to rule Lapland. She was an old lover of his from a bygone time, and the time spent between the two of them forged a lasting sense of duty even after they had left one another. Louhi knew how to manipulate practically anyone with the prospect of love, and gods were not exempt from this wily manipulation. After Garmē and Televelis reached the shores of Finland, their presence had not gone unseen, and word had spread to Louhi about two major deities that had arrived in Vainola, the land of Southern Finland.

At approximately 0 AD, an old friend of Televelis, an aged and powerful sorcerer named Väinämöinen, had called for him to travel to Finland to relieve the populace of their famine. A great device would have to be created - one that could allow prosperity to flow directly from it. Televelis was more than capable of forging such a device, but his instinct of late had turned his desires towards something further. His eyes turned upon one of the daughters of Louhi, one of the most beautiful women in all of Pohjola (Lapland). Louhi’s daughters were the vestiges of Louhi’s former beauty, and the daughters could easily attract even the hardiest and hard-hearted of individuals. Louhi keyed onto this plan to forge a great device, and a sense of greed for possessions flowed through her. She approached Televelis with her daughter, and proposed a wager: if he forged the device and presented it to her, then her daughter would be sent off to him. So, in an impressive feat of skill and prowess that lasted for a week, a great golden grindstone known as the Sampo was forged by Televelis, with Garmē helping man enormous bellows. This was also a great opportunity for Televelis to demonstrate to his son how powerful he truly was. Upon working the grinding crank, the Sampo flowed forth infinite amounts of flour, salt, and gold. Over a couple of years, the great Sampo created heaps of prosperity in Southern Finland, and now the only task left was to bring the same to the North. After this was done, the Sampo was brought to Louhi in a journey that braved much snow and ice, and Louhi rewarded Televelis with much in the way of food, shelter, and even a copper boat to send him back to the South. However, Louhi’s daughter could not yet leave Pohjola, which caused Televelis to become thoroughly dejected.

In this time, the spell that Deiwis had weaved to cause Garmē to take the form of a stunted old man had worn off, and his youthful appearance had returned to him. However, he also knew that if the gods of the Baltic had found this out, they would send for the guardians of the Gate of Death to put him to death. Fortunately for Garmē, Televelis had much in the way of newfound respect and faith for his son, so he made sure that no word would be sent to Perkuns or any other outside gods about the location of Garmē. Nevertheless, to better hide himself, Garmē assumed the avatar and identity of a man named Lemminkäinen. “Lemminkäinen” would be known as a great hero and equally great adulterer in this tale, as demonstrated by his exploits. He temporarily assumed a highly naïve, brash, and somewhat more boastful personality as well, to fit with the portrayal. The first of his actions was to attempt to woo a beautiful maiden named Kyllikki, who had the nickname of the “Flower of Saari”. Lemminkäinen’s first attempt was a debacle, as he was mocked by the village that Kyllikki resided within. Further disguising himself in the services of a herdsman, he would gain more favor among those in the village, but Kyllikki still would not join him. Devoid of options, he stole Kyllikki away in his sled, and threatened to kill every last man in the village and raze the premises to the ground if anyone tried to stop him. He rode away with his stolen bride, and he made a deal with her – if Kyllikki would stay with him and not be among the village men, then he would not ride to war again, a deal which she surprisingly agreed to.

Kyllikki would one day become bored as Lemminkäinen went out to fish, and decided to go dance with the men of her village. Lemminkäinen became thoroughly furious, as Kyllikki broke her vow, and prepared to follow in his father’s footsteps. He brazenly reasoned that the daughters of Pohjola’s mistress would be better suited to him, and he made preparations for traveling to the North. There, he met Louhi, and tried to bargain for one of her daughters, though Pohjola’s mistress would not give up the one that Lemminkäinen had chosen without much gratitude and service. He was more than up to whatever Louhi would throw at him, so Louhi naturally gave him three challenging tasks. First, Lemminkäinen would have to hunt and kill the Elk of Hiisi, a powerful creature that defied all previous attempts to kill it. Second, he needed to bridle a horse with the Hiisi Gelding, also an extremely difficult task. When both tasks met him, though, he was more than prepared, and the elk was successfully delivered to Louhi. Lemminkäinen even bridled a magical fire-courser and rode the steed back to Louhi, surprising her somewhat. Now, the third and final task that Louhi gave Lemminkäinen was to shoot and kill, with a single arrow, the black swan that resided within Tuonela, the lowest realm of the dead. By now, though, Louhi had reasoned that Lemminkäinen was not who he seemed to be at first, and was probably one of the gods that had arrived in Finland a few years back. She had heard from High Ukko that one of these gods was a wanted man, and that the two highest beings of Tuonela were hired to dispose of said god. Oh, how her heart of deceit rejoiced! What a fool this Lemminkäinen was, to think that he could stray from death for so very long. If this boastful being knew where Tuonela was in the deepest hall of Manala, then he was indeed the individual she was looking for. Lemminkäinen, knowing the way into Tuonela, ventured into the realm of the dead. He saw the black swan that resided on the top of the lake, though the wardens to the gate of death were already there – Pekols and Patollo recognized this man as the one they were looking for, and swooped upon him as he dove into the river. Lemminkäinen, realizing what was occurring, dropped his bow, and tried to flow forth a river of molten metals from the walls and riverbed. He gave the pair some trouble in his attempted escape, but their combined power proved greater than his, and a great serpent in the black river slowed the advance of his abilities. The powers of Veles coalesced Pekols and Patollo into one being, a being that was far more powerful than a semi-terrestrial god of the forge.The area around the river shook with might as their strange dance of death continued, Lemminkäinen’s strength waning. Inevitably, the cursed death-wrappings of Pekols were again upon him, and he stubbornly struggled. His efforts would be in vain, as the death-wrappings slowly extracted his godly soul. Lemminkäinen’s body drifted to the shore of Tuonela, where Patollo grasped a mighty hatchet that was specifically designed to bore through the most resilient of materials. He viciously and greedily chopped Lemminkäinen’s body into several pieces, showering the vicinity with sparks as godly material met godly material:

There the blood-stained son of death-land, There Tuoni's son and hero, Cuts in pieces Lemminkainen, Chops him with his mighty hatchet, Till the sharpened axe strikes flint-sparks From the rocks within his chamber, Chops the hero into fragments, Into five unequal portions… -Kalevala, Rune XIV: Death of Lemminkainen </i>

Even in its slightly weaker form, Lemminkäinen’s body chipped the edge of the divine hatchet. The soul of Garmē, which had revealed its true identity shortly after extraction, was locked deep within the halls of Tuonela. The pieces of the body that Garmē had assumed were cast into the river, the blood of a god satisfying the realm in an unprecedented way. Not long after this, though, this incident had reached the ears of Televelis, who became thoroughly enraged and disheartened. In his mind, his son had already proven to him that he deserved redemption. He fashioned a magical rake from the walls of Tuonela, and combed the black river for the pieces of Lemminkäinen’s body. Gathering up these pieces in a bag, he ventured far to the dwelling of Perkuns, and reasoned fiercely with the Great Striker. After all, it was Perkuns himself who struck off part of Televelis’s soul and sent Garmē down to Žemyna’s domain. The least that Perkuns could do for someone who he thought highly of was to restore his ilk. In an agreement made with the Sky-Father, the goddess of fate and fertility was called upon to speak with Televelis. Laima, this arcane goddess, saw fit that it was fated for Garmē to survive and commit several just actions, so she joined her power to that of Televelis to return the body of a god to its former status. The pieces of Lemminkäinen’s body were stitched together, and impossibly small life-threads forged by Televelis were inserted into the broken mass. A final salve of enchanted honey was forced into the wounds, sealing them seamlessly for eternity. Garmē’s soul was released from the greatest depths of Tuonela, and found its way back to the body of Lemminkäinen. Once again, air was breathed by resilient lungs, and emerald irises awoke from behind sight-orb sheathes. No steel would be wrought from this second birth, though, as Lemminkäinen appeared more humble from his ultimate rest. Louhi had no idea yet that he again walked the Earth, but this knowledge was better kept away from her. Now, reader, other events would occur in this winding story.

Not long after his physical revival, Lemminkäinen had learned that the people he had lived among since his arrival in Finland had been brutalized by Louhi’s venerable force of spirits and creatures, inciting some concern within his mettle. Surely, these people were not his own, but they did provide him hospitality. Greater, too, he would finally have an opportunity to demonstrate his prowess first-hand to the denizens of Pohjola! Acting much unlike his past self, he barged into the halls of Pohjola while a great feast was going on, and demanded a beer. He claimed to harbor much anger, because such a great individual like himself was not invited to the feast. One might reckon that the eyes of Pohjola’s mistress widened further than they had ever widened at that time, though revived or not, she would not meet a condemned god’s demands with respect and nicety. A cup of beer with poisonous snakes was brought to Lemminkäinen, and he utilized the vilest of his abilities to cook them to evaporation, nearly boiling his own beer. He promptly drank the dreadful brew, demanding for more to be brought. This caused the master of Pohjola, a wizened warrior who was skilled with the blade, to become angry, and he challenged Lemminkäinen to a duel at the edges of swords. Indeed, Lemminkäinen rejoiced here, for this was exactly what he had planned! Without using any of his ancient metal-skill, the head of Pohjola’s master lay bloodied on the floor in a manner of minutes, the hungry, single-edged Waisnankalabijan recording the life essence of the one it had laid low. Louhi’s anger seethed, and in an immediate reply to Lemminkäinen, she sent one thousand of her best warriors after him. Not wanting to cause much more of an incident, Lemminkäinen fled to the South with much speed, failing to inform anyone of his escapades.

Temporarily regaining her nerve after such a sudden event, Louhi again beckoned Televelis to her domain in Pohjola, but this time, her daughter was ready to leave. An overjoyed Televelis would leave with a beautiful woman of the far North, yet all was still not well. This woman was killed in the forest by wild animals, and Televelis became dejected yet again. He would eventually make a “bride of gold and silver” in an attempt to create a placeholder for his dead wife, though this would make a turn for the worse soon enough. After much taunting by his Bride of Gold, Televelis turned her into a bird, which promptly flew far away. A hardened heart would be what this man who was known as Ilmarinen would be left with, fueling Louhi’s joy. Not only was Louhi laughing in her residence, though – Pohjola was enjoying much prosperity with the Sampo in her hands. Truly, it was little more than a small annoyance that Pohjola’s master had met his end, in the face of what Louhi had accomplished. She had utilized so much of the power of the Sampo for the bettering of her own land that Southern Finland lost the previous prosperity that it achieved with the possession of the Sampo some years before. Clearly, something needed to be done about this.

Väinämöinen, Televelis, and Lemminkäinen decided that it was the responsibility of the three of them to retrieve the Sampo, and they formed a detailed plot to steal it back from the lair of Pohjola’s mistress. Televelis had brought the Sampo to Louhi, and he visited her residence quite frequently. The three journeyed to Pohjola, and stole the Sampo from moving a great conglomeration of rock aside. To their ship they returned, with the Sampo in tow, and began paddling with great violence. Louhi would wake up the next day, only to find her godly grinding mill to be missing, and word from an enormous sea-monster had reached her – the three heroes of Kalevala had stolen the Sampo. Enraged to a breaking point, she sent this Iku-Turso, the great beast, to destroy the thieves, and also a fog that was impenetrable to the eyes for more than a few meters. The latter would not slow the three, as a swing from Väinämöinen’s sword, a sword forged by Televelis that could cleave the very air asunder, met the seemingly impenetrable moisture, clearing a path. Iku-Turso, on the other hand, forced the boat to grind to a halt in the rough and icy Gulf of Bothnia. Not wasting any time, the physically superhuman Väinämöinen pulled the enormous Iku-Turso down to eye level by a grip of one of its giant ears, and sent it back to the deep after making a deal to free it from the service of Louhi. Now, the three would have to face Louhi’s boat, which was filled with the thousand of her best heroes that she first attempted to send against the brash Lemminkäinen. Väinämöinen promptly cast a spark of flint into the water, pining for an incantation to raise a pillar to tear the adversary’s vessel into splinters. However, to make sure that this would be a truly devastating action, Garmē quietly recited an arcane incantation from the guise of Lemminkäinen, allowing his power to spill out for a second time. This time, the world would again know the reckoning of a god, working in concert with a sorcerer of unimaginable prowess. From the rocky, metal-rich depths of the icy gulf, a venerable mountain of steel arose, pinning Louhi’s ship of battle on its very top. The ship creaked and cracked, splintering in two from the overwhelming force focused under it.

Louhi, being the great witch that she was, quickly gathered together the pieces of the sinking vessel, and carved strong spells within the wood that melded it to her body. The magical weapons of the ship would also attach to her body, creating a monstrosity greater than even the likes of monstrous Iku-Turso. Powerful wings of the strongest wood made her wings, and the magical weapons became talons. This form was still not enough to match the power of the three, though, and the daring Lemminkäinen straightaway drew hungry Brandor, eliminating Louhi’s offensive weapons:

But the daring Lemminkainen Straightway draws his blade of battle, Draws his broadsword from his girdle, Cleaves the talons of the eagle, One toe only is uninjured, Speaks these magic words of conquest: "Down, ye spears, and down, ye broadswords, Down, ye thousand witless heroes, Down, ye feathered hosts of Louhi!" -Kalevala, Rune XLIII: The Sampo Lost at Sea </i>

Many a destructive spell was weaved by the four terrible individuals and Louhi's army of creatures and sorcerers, causing what some would have called a massive aurora borealis to fill the sky. The skies of Lapland were aflame with the might of the ancients, not matched in force since the fated encounter of Nischergurgje and Schlipme.

Oddly enough, Väinämöinen would snatch the rudder of his own ship and smite both the melded wood carapace and many of the creatures and warriors of Louhi with it. Louhi was not killed from this, as her ship was what Väinämöinen really smote, and killing her would require something much more drastic. Besides, killing Louhi would break the pact that was made with Perkuns after Lemminkainen was revived – the laying low of Louhi was ultimately forbidden. Additionally, in the excitement, the golden Sampo had smashed into hundreds of fragments, cast away into the waters of Finland. Stranger, yet, Louhi shifted her form into a true bird after this event, proclaiming peace to all of Finland. This was more of a desperate joke on her part, for she would return to her lair in Pohjola and regain her throne there.

Long after Väinämöinen had left for the Heaven of the Northeast, Garmē left his identity as Lemminkainen behind. He had searched tirelessly for pieces of the Sampo throughout the land of the Finns, but to little avail. At around 100 AD, he was still living in Southern Finland, though he finally came upon a rather sizeable fragment of the Sampo, still seething with unimaginable power. Even Garmē could not resist its pull on his inner desire, so he snatched it away into a leather pouch. Televelis knew immediately that this power should be contained properly, so he skived a special symbol onto the leather pouch to prevent it from falling out of the pouch. What he failed to do, however, was to skive a symbol to prevent Garmē’s magic from taking the golden shard out, and Garmē would exploit this greatly in the future.

Among the Aesir
<toggledisplay showtext="Show Background Events" hidetext="Hide Background Events"> Over a century, Garmē’s many actions under a different name created much increased trust by both Televelis and Perkuns towards himself. Televelis had realized that Garmē was willing to work for “positive” goals, and Perkuns thought much the same. Nevertheless, Garmē was still not allowed onto the Baltic World Tree or to live among the Prussians, but he was now free to walk upon the Debeskalns, the mountain of souls that is the first obstacle to scale in the Baltic afterlife. There was not much he could do upon the Debeskalns, though, as it was not his job to assist the recently-dead through their journey. Luck would happen upon him in an excellent way notwithstanding, since Televelis had an idea – he brought three brothers from Finland whom Garmē would bring to the immediate West, and he would train each of them to see which one had an inner spiritual gift for blacksmithing. Televelis knew that one of the three had a natural talent for such things, but he could not tell for sure which individual had this gift. Besides, the gods of Asgard were in need of another powerful blacksmith, and this was an excellent opportunity to help them out.

Garmē would train all three brothers to become human blacksmiths of great skill, and he deduced which one was fit to serve the Æsir – Völundr. Völundr was seen by Garmē to make blades that could cleave anvils in twain, which was something that everyday blades forged by humans were not supposed to be able to accomplish. Even more surprisingly, some of these blades were deemed to be “fair” by Garmē when he compared them against his own Waisnankalabijan, a word he would never use to describe something forged by a human. Truly, this man was fated by the Norns to make the swords of heroes. His two brothers were relegated to their earthly doings, though were still brought with Garmē alongside the prodigious Völundr to the west.

Northern Denmark, circa 300 AD, would be where Garmē would arrive. The denizens of Asgard were surprised to see the arrival of someone from the East, as they usually did not have direct visits from gods of the Baltic unless the Celestial Bureaucracy held enormous meetings. Such an event had not happened for centuries, and discerning figures like Allfather Odin had wondered if a meeting would again take place. Fortunately, that was not so, and the halls of Valhalla were not necessarily mobilized. This time, a single god had brought the fruit of his teachings to a land fraught with frequent violence and treachery. Völundr was accepted into the wide-reaching Asgard, though Garmē was only let into Asgard once – the High Ones of the Germanic peoples had already been swayed against him, and they would not let a potential criminal of his power stay among the Æsir. Downhearted and disheveled, Garmē left Asgard, rejected by another group of his ilk. He would leave the gates of the capacious realm, though not before he was approached by the god Loki. This god of fire and tricks had heard much of the past deeds of Garmē, and showed some legitimate respect for his combination of trickery and power. He did say, though, that the Warmth of the Forge had relied far too much on his strength of magic in the past, and needed to tap more into his strength of wits. Loki knew that Garmē carried a shard of the grinding mill that could influence the greed of anyone, so he wanted to see if the possessor of selfsame item could put it to good use. Garmē reckoned that even a short time of tutelage under Loki could establish an excellent connection, making it easier for him to get out of future squabbles or receive help.

The training of Garmē in the wiles of non-violent trickery took many years, but the results had shown themselves greatly by the turn of the Fifth Century AD. Loki had not simply taught him about the ways to trick men, but of poetry and the stories of the Norse deities. For his wisdom, Garmē vested much respect in Loki from then on, and treated him like a great friend. There was also a test that Loki gave to him, with the prospect of the reward of a truly remarkable blade. This blade was called “Tyrfing”, and it was something that possessed a few enigmatic secrets of creation within its folded steel blade. Tyrfing rested in the hands of Angantyr, an Ostrogothic king, who obtained the blade from a man that he killed. By this time, the Goths had really carved out a reputation for themselves in Europe, demolishing the Western Roman Empire and spreading their architecture, gilded ornaments, and language. The Huns had also laid waste to the Romans, too, though they were also adversaries of the Goths. Eventually, a great battle would take place between the Goths and Huns 454 AD, within the Pannonian Plain. The Norse recounted this as the “Hlöðskviða”, and were able to recount such an event due to their close cultural contact and shared ancestry with the Goths. Using this to his advantage in order to locate Angantyr, Garmē approached the field of slaughtered men, where the blood turned the shores of the nearby rivers red. He finally met Angantyr, and called out these woven words from afar while taking out the shard of the Sampo:

"Come, haughty king! I have in my possession a thing much more worthwhile than any weapon of war. Abandon the blade, and it shall be yours."

Garmē allowed the lustrous shard to hover over the edge of a steep cliff, while Angantyr’s already-deteriorating vision was influenced by his greed, characteristic of the shard’s malevolent power. Looking forward, a great forest seemed to appear in front of him, with a clear path to the golden shard. Running with sword in hand, Angantyr nearly touched the shard, though the ground had somehow left his feet. With a cry of defiance, he plummeted to the drainage basin, Tyrfing and its scabbard lying undamaged by his lifeless body. Garmē flew down the cliff to claim his prize, and hoisted the sword in its baldric over his shoulder. Now, two blades were in his possession - Waisnankalabijan, the great sword of Knowledge, and Tyrfing, the unbreakable foe-bane, and Loki would be pleased at Garmē’s successful work.

Looking Towards the East
<toggledisplay showtext="Show Background Events" hidetext="Hide Background Events"> Garmē could not stay in Denmark forever, since he still had duties in Finland that the Celestial Bureaucracy gave him to accomplish. Still, neither the Æsir nor the Baltic High Ones would give him long-term quarter, and he was becoming bored with centuries of relative inactivity. Over these four centuries, he ruminated about past events – he was indeed a powerful being, more powerful than most in the world that he knew, (save for the gods higher than him) and yet there existed a multitude of tools that he was wholly incapable of making. He had come across items such as the Sampo, Tyrfing, and even the Axe of Perkuns, all of which required manipulation of deeper aspects of the universe to make. Perhaps, he thought, if he combined his abilities with another god, like the combined abilities of the countless dwarves in Nidavellir, he could obtain items that would further his own power such that even the Highest of the High Ones would acknowledge him as an equal. Garmē knew that Televelis would not comply with such a thing, since Garmē did once steal the tools of Perkuns and use them malevolently. Reforging the Sampo was a good candidate for such a project, though he still would need someone to help him. Garmē figured that he would need to consult someone who knew little of his past, and for that, he would need to travel further than simply Finland or Denmark. Traveling further West would be impractical for Garmē, as the beings in the most westerly parts of Europe (and perhaps even Africa) would have likely caught some sort of word of Garmē, and he would have to travel over a great ocean, the only metal along the way derived from the rocky seabed. So, he made a decision to travel to the Far East for a time, but just before he left, he was approached by Louhi. She knew of his possession of a shard of the Sampo, and she offered him a seat in place the dead Master of Pohjola in her kingdom to the Far North. Garmē knew better than to make deals with the wily Louhi, and he vehemently declined. “Greed is not thine own for the taking, foul witch. Thy wiles shall not be amplified by such a shard, lest I finally relieve thee of thy worldly essence in my task to keep Vainola in balance!” After Garmē had delivered his warning full of fervor and left Louhi in a fit of embarrassment and dishonor, he rocketed above the flourishing cultures of the Silk Road. He had never seen such an abundance of silk and spices being traded across great swaths of desert and mountain, though too lively a place was this for Garmē. Instead, he would continue to fly towards the East.

Even Song Dynasty China was too large and bustling a place for Garmē to stay in for any length of time to seek out a deity, though its enormous population and mesmerizing colors caused him to take note of the culture, and he was fascinated by the presence of so many learned scholars and voluminous halls filled with literature. The runes that these people had used to write their language down were yet unknown to him, but Garmē did become familiar with some of them. He could not waste too much time here, though, as he remained true to his real purpose for travelling such a long distance, and left the meritorious civilization behind.

Now, as he traveled even further to the East, in 980 AD, a huge island met his gaze – this was Heian Period Japan. The culture here was reminiscent of that he had seen within the Song Dynasty, but it possessed its own uniqueness. Odd customs were practiced by this people, as Garmē had observed, which intrigued him just as much as the vast libraries and learned scholars from the Song Dynasty. However, the language of this people was completely incomprehensible to Garmē, and after testing out whether or not anyone would understand Old Prussian, Finnic, or even outdated Indo-Iranian tongues, all he received were gazes of concern and feet that moved swiftly away from him. Nevertheless, there was one person who did not move away from him when he spoke these tongues – the Onmyoji of Emperor Kazen. Instead of seeing Garmē as a foreigner, something that Garmē would never have expected to happen occurred: the man lay prostrate on the ground, touching his head to the ground in absolute reverence. This was exactly the same custom as Garmē had seen in the Song Dynasty, a custom known as the “kowtow”. In his native Japanese,he asked what he knew as a Kami about where he had arrived from, but the Bearer of the Brazen and Ferrous simply replied in his Old Prussian tongue that he could not understand this man, and he was confused as to why he was showing reverence towards him. Garmē tried what he had tried with the commoners, and used all sorts of bygone Indo-European and Finnic tongues, to little avail. Eventually, Garmē exhausted all of the languages that he attempted to communicate with, and he decided that there was only one option left to communicate, though he thought it unlikely to work properly. This was telepathy, connecting the very spirit of oneself to another in order to convey both thought, meaning, and feeling. He then closed his eyes and necessarily conveyed his own thoughts with the time-tested ability of the gods:

''“Why dost thou lay prostrate? Truly have I come from afar, nothing that I have done should have reached this island most mountainous such that I have gained merit.”''

To the metal-bearer’s surprise, the onmyoji replied to him with his own thought-speech:

''“Thou art a Kami, and recognition must be duly given! I do wonder, though, thine essence and garb are not of origin familiar.”''

Garmē was again surprised at this man, for he suddenly understood what this man had intended to ask him, even understanding the local meaning of the word “Kami”. He continued with,

''“Aye, it would seem that thou knowest not of whither I hail - from the Land of the Prūs, one who possesses this thought-speech, I hail from thither! Thou viewest me as a High One, and thou wouldst be most truthful. I seek solemn assitance in this land, the very warmth of the forge am I.”''

An ancient land filled with mead, poetry, and strange customs filled the mettle of the man, somewhere that was further west than even the Silk Road. Only from translated Arabic sources had he learned of such a land, but ever so scant were they in comparison to what a true Kami could convey. In addition, a sense of what Garmē’s purpose was for his homeland was also conveyed by the latter portion of his thought-speech. This Kami was likely the strangest he had ever seen, strange enough in fact to perhaps stick around for a while. After Garmē had at least figured out how to say his name verbally in Japanese and learned many other basic phrases through the thought-speech, the onmyouji took Garmē on some journeys throughout the Iron-Age island. Over a period of around twenty years, the culture of this place became highly familiar to Garmē, and he even learned much of what the onmyouji knew about cartography, mathematics, and the mythologies of the areas. A sweeping term for a plethora of magical creatures, “youkai”, was also taught to Garmē. The deities in this land were known as Kami, as Garmē had discovered before, and a whole menagerie of them existed in a realm not dissimilar from the Baltic World Tree and Debeskalns that Garmē knew so well.

In fact, there was a specific Kami that the onmyouji informed him about who actually lived on a mountain similar to the Debeskalns – this Kami was Kanako Yasaka, a Kami of the wind, rain, harvest, and war. She apparently also was an adept businesswoman, and chanced at opportunities to make deals with those who intended to bargain with her. What better an opportunity did Garmē have than to approach this being and seal a pact with her? As he prepared to ascend the looming mountain, he bade farewell to the man, promising one day to return and discuss worldly matters. The mountain was truly large, so comparable in size to the one he was familiar with back in the West that he occasionally thought it to be the same mountain. However, these thoughts were dispelled when he saw the rocks, waterfalls, and vegetation that was much unlike any of the comparable things back in the Baltic. When Garmē happened upon the top of the mountain, a solemn structure awaited him – a shrine, perhaps dedicated to the worship of the goddess in the sky. It reminded him of the temples back in the Baltic, though with none of the great totems depicting Perkuns or Potrimpo. Instead of the engraved stone and wooden totems, enormous pillars of wood circled the shrine, brewing with an ancient presence. Not thinking to open the doors of the shrine, he called forth in arcane Japanese to the very heavens in the only way he knew how:

“Oh, praiseworthy and meritorious kami who resideth within the sky! Once more shalt thou grace this mountaintop with thy presence!”

At those words, numerous clouds gathered, and the shades of a native goddess were conjured. The kami suddenly appeared to Garmē, her form truly a sight to behold. She was just as tall as him, dressed in the finest silken garb of the time and bearing with her a number of the wooden pillars. Truly radiant she was, as well, a match for even the Flower of Saari. A garland of rope and leaves adorned her head, the same material cinching her garment to her waist. The ancient presence that Garmē had felt before was definitely coming from this one, of that he had no doubt. Before he could open his mouth to speak, the thought-speech again reverberated within his mind, the female Kami projecting her intent with royal vigor:

''“Lo, who is it that doth call for me, Kanako Yasaka? ‘Tis not every day that I am visited by a visage foreign, and even less often a Kami not of this land-realm. Thou art a face forlorn, and thy worth shalt duly be judged. Speak, return this message divine.”''

Truly assertive was this goddess who dwelled within the heavens, and such a message warranted a reply of equal force and purpose. In a strange combination that overstepped cultural boundaries, Garmē wove Baltic poetry with his mind, in the same arcane Japanese that he had spoken before:

“A Kami of worth stands before me, Beautiful and vigorous all the same; Thou art akin to fair Kyllikki, Blooming life of great artistry.

Thy presence is regal, Thy countenance trustworthy; Truly hast thou earned Fair knowledge and skill.

From the soul of the master Of the forge was I hewn; The Baltic I call home, Land of swamps and sea.

Hear me, for this name of mine Is Garmē Āutrās; Many deeds I have done, Much have I seen.

O deiwe rikijs, I beseech thee, Hold fast and hear my tale Of warriors, song, And bounty.” </i>

Kanako was not one for literature or history, so she bade Garmē to do whatever he needed to do quickly. If he had simply come to put on a show, then he was not worth the ancient kami’s time. Garmē paid heed to her wishes, and wove the story of Kalevala out of molten metal, suspended in the air by his sway over the electron. He recounted a much-shortened version of the story, but he had accomplished what he needed to do. Knowledge of the Sampo was transferred to Kanako, and Garmē was ready to propose his bargain. This time, he spoke with his voice, kneeling as the subject of a Western lord would have done to show fealty. He claimed to want to reforge the bountiful Sampo, but he was unable to do so with his current abilities. If Kanako would one day join her immense skill to his, then perhaps Garmē could collect the pieces of the Sampo in Finland, and the forging of a second Sampo could commence. Once the golden grindstone was made, both deities would share in the spoils of gold, flour, and salt. Garmē even went as far as to offer centuries of service to her in metal-artistry and anything else she required, in exchange for her assistance. However, in reality, the forge-warmth had abandoned the idea of remaking the Sampo, and intended to combine Kanako’s abilities with his to re-create the smithy-tools of Televelis. Such an action would allow him to bend far more matter to his will, and allow him power that would rival beings higher than himself. He even took out the shard of the Sampo that he possessed, hoping that its magnification of greed would help sway the Kami’s decision. Reviewing what Garmē had offered her, Kanako thought deeply of what she would obtain in return for her assistance. In a definitive reply to Garmē’s wager, she posited that centuries of service did indeed seem tempting, but nothing that Garmē could offer her would increase her gain of faith. She declined to the deal with a strong speech, and added that she already possessed a Kami that could perform metal-artistry nearby. The Baltic god could say no more, and thanked the High One for her presence with a reverent bow. He lifted his body to standing height, and turned his face away – failed, did he, but forsooth, much he had learned in his stay in this strange land. The ancient god hailed the Kami one last time, and turned away, but not before a hand rested on his shoulder. Much to his surprise, this Kanako wished that he could recount an excerpt of Baltic poetry to her, and not in Japanese, but in the language of his origin. Even with the thought-speech of the gods, The Bearer of the Brazen and Ferrous had not fully keyed onto what this ancient Kami was intending or feeling, but he closed his eyes, imagining his homeland by the sea and swamps. His voice rumbled through the vast mountain like that of old Väinämöinen, even equaling it for a few moments in soothing quality. He spun a short verse, singing of Zeminnika, the goddess of the Earth:

“Zeminnika kweitākedi, Kwēi sadinlai rōzis wippin? Dirēis, na aūktanin garbīkan, Prēi jūrin, prēi stan maruzzin.”

(Dear Zeminnika, the raiser of blooms, Where shall I plant the rose twigs? Look at a tall hill, By the sea, by the lagoon.) </i>

Perhaps a level of understanding was undertaken by Kanako after Garmē had sung this verse, but this he would never know for sure. After reiterating the statement that he would one day return, possibly to retry his deal with this Kami, he finally descended the enormous mountain. When he was about to reach the foot of the mountain, though, Garmē’s mind was flooded with an essence of great evil, the same evil essence that radiates from iron that is forged in a certain way. The source of this derived in the direction from whence he had traveled to get to the Far East, indicating that he could no longer stay in this area. So, raising his arms to the sky and thanking the Kami of Shinto for their hospitality, he floated high above the clouds, and began his journey back to Finland.

Finnic Faith
<toggledisplay showtext="Show Background Events" hidetext="Hide Background Events"> In the year 1020 AD, Garmē had returned to Finland to find something that was truly disconcerting: a violent feud was occurring between commoners and what he then knew as youkai all over the landscape. These youkai belonged to Louhi, and villagers had recounted to Garmē that Louhi had become terribly angry several years back, sending hordes of magical creatures against the townsfolk of both Pohjola and Southern Finland. Garmē became exceedingly enraged at Louhi for perpetrating this action reminiscent of what he himself had done in the past, but the pact with Perkuns was still in effect. Garmē would again be trapped in Pagarbas (Tuonela) if he killed a strong being in anger, this time for an eternity. Unable to lay waste to the lair of Pohjola’s mistress and eliminate the problem at its root, he instead spent several years saving vast stretches of Finland from youkai, both taking the lives of and imprisoning many. The Battle of Pelkosnjargâ was the most notable deed of Garmē and thousands of native shamans and sorcerers, quelling the uprising at its very start and severing one of its most crucial forces.

By 1130 AD, the last of the unruly youkai under Louhi’s control were sequestered by joint efforts between Garmē and a sizeable amount of native magicians and shamans. Garmē was now known to most of Finland, and even more so than when he was first known by the name of Lemminkäinen. Around a dozen temples were built in scattered locations to worship “Lemminkäinen” or “Ilmarinen”, for the Finns knew not of the Old Prussian name “Garmē Āutrās”. With regards to the latter of the two names that they knew him as, the Finns mistook him for the actual Ilmarinen/Televelis when his shades were conjured to assist them in putting down the swaths of youkai that caused them trouble. This god had finally increased his own faith pool, taking an idea from the venerable Kanako Yasaka whom he had conversed with about a century earlier. Feasibly, with the new source of faith directed towards himself in addition to the pools of faith that derived from his native Prussians, (and some other Balts) he could slowly gather this to increase his own power. If enough individuals believed that he was the actual incarnation of Ilmarinen, then he reasoned that the powers of his forebear would one day become his.

The First Great Punishment Lets itself be known
<toggledisplay showtext="Show Background Events" hidetext="Hide Background Events"> Ah, but such an increase in power derived from faith would not be so, for the pagan Baltic tribes such as the Prussians, Jotvingians, and Skalvians were faced with a very sudden threat from the West. Christianity had long taken a frightening hold in Northern and Eastern Europe by the late 12th century AD, and an evil prospect of conquest had reached the minds of generals and bishops. The Balts had not been doing well to keep up with the times in their soldiers, either, and they had not possessed the network of guilds that were present in Western or Central Europe that made armor-making far easier. Armor such as shirts of maille continued to be made for only the best of the best. Worse yet, the tribes had become disorganized, while immensely powerful orders were making themselves known in Christian areas. This great mobilization of the Teutonic Order from Northeastern Germany became known as the Baltic Crusade, starting around 1193 AD.

There was little the deity could do as he watched his people do battle against a force that was far superior to themselves. Garmē could do nothing to quell the advance of the Teutonic Knights in the land of the Prussians, for he was still forbidden from setting foot onto their land. Repeating something akin to his actions in the middle of the Iron Age would have cost him dearly, as well, and he did not want to have another genocide stain his hands. The Old Prussians were subjugated, assimilated, and often killed in a period of ninety years, their old temples burning and the survivors converted en masse to Christianity. No other event in the existence of Garmē had affected him so sorely, as he watched great warriors and priests lose their lives in a bloody struggle. The people that Garmē had been sent to Zeminnika’s land to serve were now lost to history, sending him into an enormous torrent of sorrow. The faith that he had pooled in Finland was now offset by the serious losses of temples and worshippers in lands that once belonged to the Prussians, now replaced by churches that worshipped a “revived” Near Eastern miracle-worker.

The crusade in the Baltic spread out a great deal from the end of the 12th century to the beginning of the 14th, though its success waned as it penetrated deeper into the stronger Baltic peoples, such as the Lithuanians or the Curonians. Fortunately for Garmē, temples hidden away in the expansive swamp-forests of the Baltic could never be reached on horseback, so the Germans and Swedes could not wipe those out. In Finland, the crusade also had an impact on Garmē’s faith reserves by converting increasing amounts of the native population to Christianity, though it was a similar situation to the Baltic – Finland was full of treacherous swamps and marshy land that was nigh impassable to all but the most hardy of individuals. Cults of different gods had also held out in Christian belief, due to the inexact manner of conversion of most of Finland. The folk tradition of magic and shamanism had also held out greatly, some of which invoked the power of the gods. Thus, Garmē remained in Finland, but a veil of longing for the past constantly hung over him, and the Finns could never replace those who he had served for more than three thousand years.

By the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries, Garmē had become concerned with the dying out of many of the old lines of shamans and magicians in Finland, so he appeared once again within a temple in Karelia. He gathered together the remaining lines of magicians and shamans, and sent them on missions to spread knowledge of folk practice. Garmē himself was exceedingly knowledgeable about Balto-Finnic folk traditions, so he oversaw some of the missions personally. This dilemma of theirs was not simply because traditions were being abandoned for “mainstream” Christian ones, though. Instead, a terrible famine made itself known over Finland in the early 19th century, and the dearth of doctors and ritual healers made the situation rather dire. Real doctors were also gravely needed, so the search went on for those, as well. It was around this time, in 1829, when Garmē assumed the form of a sickly beggar and lurched about among the alleyways. Luck would have it that a man in his prime would approach him and question him about his condition. This man was Elias Lönnrot, a well-known doctor and budding author who had traveled all over Finland, compiling gratuitous amounts of folk tales. He was keen on both modern medicine (vaccination) and also staying true to folk remedies, which the disguised Garmē had noticed after he offered him magical words of advice. Garmē listened in on the tales that Elias had gathered after he was given special leaves and salves for his “injuries”, recognizing them as slightly-corrupted versions of many tales that he was present in. Similar to Väinämöinen, this man had traveled much and loved poetry. “Imaginably, this one could possibly become like him if he truly wanted…” thought the Forge-Warmth. In a display of bright energy and arcane essence, Garmē abandoned his sickly form, and again assumed his godly form. No falterer was Elias to this, though, for he was ready to ask this being about what he had learned in this travels.

Bringing Elias on a journey through the sky, Garmē informed him of the raw, unadulterated stories of how the Baltic had bloomed into a cultural center from the early Bronze Age, and how the bountiful Sampo was forged and lost in a great battle at sea. This man had truly deserved knowledge of such things, for Garmē wanted to make sure that he could get enough information to recount the stories of his past in an epic poem, in return for Elias using his medical expertise to help quell the famine. This poem would be known as the “Kalevala”, and would become the national epic of Finland in due time. Lönnrot’s family line was also one of the last of the ancestral shamanistic families in Finland, but much, unfortunately, had been forgotten to time. Garmē reckoned that this family deserved to rediscover their heritage, and he brought Elias, his wife, and his children to the bottom of the Debeskalns. There, an estimable building of metal was hewn, harkening back to the designs of iron-age “Gords”, or settlements built from many wooden logs, surrounded by the same logs in a style of fortification. So, a significant source of faith towards Garmē was established right next to the Heaven of Eastern Europe, and by the 21st century AD, the fifth generation of the Lönnrot family had continue to swear undying worship to one who they knew as Lemminkäinen. By this time, the Bearer of the Brazen and Ferrous had seen numerous institutions crumble from a peak of the Debeskalns, delivering blessings to the Finns who had risked their lives in guerilla warfare against both Nazi and Soviet forces. He had watched the USSR as they entered his old and venerable land of origin, taking control of a large amount of the Baltic Sea, and also watched their systematic freeing of the populace in the late 20th century. War, terror, hatred, and lies – some things had not changed from the Bronze Age, and Garmē had witnessed it all.

Thus, dear reader, my story ends on a fairly lighter note, and yet also a reminder of what humanity can be capable of, given the right tools and facilities. To this very minute, I do not know why I have been writing this in a highly modern manner, since I hail from a time that used manners of speech that have been lost to history! Ah, but would it not be meet, oh brothers and sisters, to end with the speech of the author, the Forge-Warmth himself? Reflecting on my own actions is indeed troublesome, but it is the duty of a divine being to do just that. Ah, yes… my point… wouldst thou think it meet for me to provide unto thee a purpose or moral of said story? Present I this: thinketh not hastily enough such that thy feelings overtake thee, but do be forceful in such things when necessary. Accomplish thy tasks with vigor, remember the land from whence thou came.

-Garmē Āutrās

Personality
In his time, Garmē flitted between a few different personality styles, far from being content with just having one basic personality to go by. Initially, he was extremely selfish and egotistical, realizing that he was the son of a High One. His people, the Old Prussians, were his divinely-chosen subjects, and it was only they who deserved his knowledge. He viewed other cultures of the time as mortal and undeserving of him. This changed slowly over time after Garmē realized that many of the Baltic gods who had come before him held more power than he did, and boasting about how powerful he was with the knowledge that there were many beings whose power exceeded his was stifling. He learned to not regard those whom he met with scorn just because they were weaker than him, though his feelings that many were simply inferior to him lingered on. His interest in humans was still only perpetuated by those whom he considered to be worthy of his presence.

An arcane seriousness pervades Garmē, perhaps fitting for one who has learned and lost much in the tumult of discovery. His seriousness is such that he will not tolerate juvenile behavior or any practical jokes, and is willing to give long and winding lectures about the process of cause and effect to those who perpetrate such things. Even he will joke sometimes, though his jokes are solely relevant to wisdom and the brutal reality of the world, evident in the visceral trickery of his past. “Fools and the wise present equivalent danger. Teach the fool to use magic, and he will have naught but any control, inciting unnecessary ruin. Teach the wise man to weave spells, and he shall become uncontrollable to all but himself.”

Garmē is very careful to put his trust into individuals, constantly reminded of what happened in his past. To add to that, he has a tendency to be rather tricky and cunning, and will occasionally trick those who have overstepped certain boundaries or are irresponsible. At certain times, he will even go as far as to use his trickery to lead fools to their deaths. His cunning also employs the use of feigning certain personality traits that he would not usually have to gain the trust of others. “I harken trust to pouring boiling oil – thou knowest not if it will spatter back and burneth thee in thine attempt to collect it.”

The few humans who still know Garmē personally would describe him as strikingly forceful in intent, though highly cynical and sullen. It is as if a great king had lost his kingdom to some terrible force in the days of old, powerless to stop it. He reminisces about the old times frequently, longing for when his people were a force to be reckoned with. Hence, he has issues with acknowledging new mortals whom he meets as friends, finding little purpose in the humans of the modern world.

Power/Combat
Naturally, a human blacksmith is an extremely hardy individual, but Garmē is a blacksmithing deity, and therefore possesses immense physical and magical strength. Few would hope to best him in single combat, lest they taste hungry Tyrfing's cast. Many a magical creature and human have been laid low by his terrible power, and it was said that only the greatest sorcerers of the North and fellow deities could stand to test his might.

He prefers both to stay a good distance away from his opponent and get up close and personal with his attacks, since he possesses a variety of skills related to both of these areas. If he is able to do so safely, he likes to gauge the skill of his opponents and taunt them before he releases his raw magical power. When dealing with fools or naïve individuals, however, he does not hold anything back, in a display of how powerful a god truly can be. Such a thing can be extremely detrimental and ruinous to the surroundings, however, so one would probably be wise not to test him to his limit. He does not necessarily want to tear the earth asunder with great spires of metal and force maps to be redrawn with the leveling of colossal areas in molten metal and debris. In any case, absolute magical power and force of spells are where Garmē excels the best, and he will ravenously try to engulf his adversaries in whatever foul incantation he must to win a duel. He greatly enjoys fighting when it does happen, due to the many bouts that the gods put him through in his early days. The Balts were indeed a warrior culture, just like their neighbors surrounding them, so Garmē expresses this in his oblige to a test of martial prowess.

The Control of the Electron
The notion that metals are literally everywhere in the environment is not an understatement – everywhere in the Earth’s crust will you find metal, and almost all living things contain some sort of metal within them, usually bonded with other elements in huge networks of organometallic molecules. Within pure metals, there exists what is known as a “mobile sea” of electrons, which is what makes Garmē’s wide-reaching power so potent. Garmē is able to move electrons around that belong to metal atoms, causing him to be able to control their every movement. This means that he can mold metals into any shape he wants, building colossal walls of metal or twisting great amounts of spikes high into the air. Once, he even raised an entire mountain of steel from the depths of the Gulf of Bothnia. The combinations are only limited to his imagination. Not only can Garmē manipulate pure metals, though – by quickly moving around the electrons within rocks, ceramics, and even organisms, he can easily manipulate the metals that were previously bonded together, their electrons rather immobile. A tertiary, though just as powerful skill that he possesses from manipulating electrons is the ability to modify the kinetic energy of electrons. What this means is that Garmē can vibrate electrons inside metals to an extreme degree. This will melt metals at will, creating huge rivers of molten metal. Such molten mass can be manipulated just like ordinary metal, though the added benefit of it being in an obnoxiously-hot liquid state makes this a more potent skill. If Garmē wanted to, for instance, he could isolate the iron in the molecule hemoglobin within an organism’s blood, and then increase the kinetic energy of the electrons such that the iron would melt, cooking the organism from the inside and killing it. Abundant calcium within bones and other hard parts would be even more dangerous, and any other metal in sufficient abundance could also be used. Thus, this ability has some very dark connotations to it, though Garmē’s ability works backwards, as well – he can absorb the kinetic energy within electrons and release it as a great transfer of ionized air, thus potentially preventing something like a volcanic eruption or his own ability from going further than he would want it, all the while being able to use an offensive ability through the surge of ionized air. Also, when metal is in a molten state, Garmē can shape it into a number of superheated projectiles. Heating the metal past its molten state creates a truly frightening substance: superheated and ionized gas. Terrifying would be the word someone would describe for a swath of metal plasma coming towards them...

Innate Forge Knowledge
From the part of Televelis’s soul that was severed by Perkūns, Garmē was granted the knowledge of all of the forging techniques known to mortals, and some known to the gods. Working alone and given enough concentration, he is capable of making anything that mortals could think of making out of metal in mere moments, though fully-fledged tools of the gods are a different story. His father still harbored deeper secrets of metal creation (and also matter creation, for that matter) than Garmē could have ever known, which Garmē seeks knowledge of. His most "godly" knowledge of forging lies with his knowledge of forging metals that are completely ridden of any impurities, and not simply slag. Such impurity is present throughout humans, and feeds into things such as corruption. However, he is not fully able to remove impurity from a weapon that is already conceptually afflicted by such a thing.

Bodily Resilience
Due to being hewn from a combination of the Earth and the very soul of Televelis, Garmē’s physical body is extremely resilient. His skin and muscles are akin to tempered steel, no doubt from his everlasting affinity to metal. He is practically immune to heat, and will often simply sap the kinetic energy of electrons aimed at him.

Manipulation of Magnetic Fields
An extension of his control over mobile electrons, Garmē can manipulate magnetic fields given off by lanthanides beneath the Earth’s crust, primarily to cause him to levitate through the air. The more magical energy he uses, the faster he will fly. Control of magnetic fields can also be used to eliminate or undermine an existing magnetic field that would otherwise interfere with control of electrons. In a modern sense, a magnetic field of sufficient power can wipe out electronics and devices for a huge distance, or even cause disorientation through the diamagnetic properties of water.

Prodigious Sword and Shield Combat
Garmē examined the existing one-handed sword and large round shield combat that had existed since the Bronze Age, and trained himself in it. He even learned some techniques from Perkūns himself. The wars that he dabbled in during the Iron Age gave him much in the way of combat experience. After more than three millennia of daily training, his skills incorporate much that has been lost to time, and thus he wields his implements of battle with frightening fluidity.

Weapons and Artefacts
Garmē carries Tyrfing in a scabbard attached to his belt via strap bridges and rings attached to miniature belts on the scabbard, just like the original owner did. Tyrfing would look something akin to this Germanic spatha here. He will only draw this blade of terror when he really intends to kill, to make sure that the blade will sing the way he wants it to.
 * Tyrfing - a sword that was forged by the dwarves of Nidavellir. It looks like a typical but highly gilded migration-era sword, with a gold hilt and pattern-welded construction to its long, broad, and flat blade. Tyrfing has a very dark history to it, as each of its previous owners had killed the other to gain its mighty power. No fool’s prize is the blade, either, as the blade can never rust, melt, or deteriorate, and can cut through practically any material as if it were flesh. Originally cursed by the dwarves to slay a man each time it was drawn, the cycle of Tyrfing’s curse seemingly ended with the blade falling into the hands of the Ostrogothic king Agantyr. However, with Garmē being the indirect cause of Agantyr’s death, the cycle has been reckoned to start once again, and in an even more dangerous fashion - the connection of the celestial life of a metal god with a weapon of nearly dead essence took the place of the previous magic, and acquired an aspect similar to a pure Hagalaz rune. It tugs at the incorporeal aspect of a being, and is brutally effective against those that abandon physical form.


 * Waisnankalabijan (lit. "Knowledge-Sword") - a single-edged langseax (Iron-Age Northern European single-edged sword) resembling those found in the Baltic region of Europe. Unlike Tyrfing, Waisnankalabijan was the result of Garmē’s own forging. The metal for the blade was given to him by Televelis, blessed with a great power – it can recognize practically any being that it points at. This is due to the fact that its metal was made at the bottom of the ever-knowing World Tree, where only Televelis was known to be capable of gathering material. Televelis also used a good amount of the wood of the World Tree for the handle of Waisnankalabijan, and incised strong runes within it that would cause matter to distort around the hilt. Therefore, more wood is held within the hilt of Waisnankalabijan than at first meets the eye, and at the beck and call of Garmē, the wooden hilt will come apart, revealing a long strip of rawhide and iron nails. The strips of wood seal themselves together, the blade becomes the shield boss, and the shield is set with the rawhide and iron nails. In this form, Waisnankalabijan serves as a defense against a great deal of magic, as the wood is incapable of splintering or burning through mortal means, as well as providing Garmē with a shield to properly perform his fighting style. Waisnankalabijan, in its blade form, would look similar to these Baltic swords. In its shield form, it would look similar in shape to these shields. The langseax is capable of slinging around massive amounts of power in the form of time-delayed explosions with each swing, thus allowing Garme to fool his opponents into thinking they are safe from his strikes.


 * Shard of the Sampo (Siparle Sammon): A palm-sized piece of the once-great golden Sampo, which was the device forged by Televelis (Ilmarinen) to make endless flour, salt, and gold. With the Sampo long since shattered, Garmē carries a shard of it around wherever he goes, inside of a leather pouch with a special magical protection imposed on it by his father to prevent it from ever falling out. The shard possesses the power to greatly magnify the greed of individuals, and is used well in Garmē’s occasional trickery whenever he presents it to a potential target for bargaining. For instance, he tricked and killed Angantyr, Tyrfing’s former owner, by placing the shard on the edge of a cliff, which appeared to the ailing Angantyr as a great forest in his deteriorating vision.


 * Piece of Gleipnir: A 20-foot-long section of Gleipnir given to Garmē after Sunyata saw him taking interest in what he had attached to his Sh'renjilji. Even though it is only 20 feet of ribbon-like chain, it is still made of a metal that is impossibly stronger than any iron or steel. It would be impossible to break such a thing via physical means.

Spellcards
Since he has not entered Japan since the last time he attempted to make a deal with Kanako Yasaka, Garmē knows absolutely nothing about the concept of Spell Cards or Spell Card Rules. However, he does possess magic that is used as a non-lethal way to demonstrate his might to an adversary, and that culminates in this danmaku-like display:


 * Rune of Televelis [Ire of the Earth-Forge]: A bright, searing, and colossal gathering of molten metal is crushed together, and then released as if spewed from a volcano. The clumps of lava rain down from the sky as lines of projectiles, with some larger clumps interspersed throughout.

Major

 * Teliavelis: The Baltic god and creator of metal that split part of his own soul to create Garmē, thus acting as a father to him. He is Garmē’s perpetual higher mentor and was his comrade in the great battle within the tale of Kalevala. Televelis is often willing to speak with his ilk and share knowledge, though he still tries to monitor Garmē’s actions to makes sure that the evil essence of certain metals is not allowed to be propagated uncontrollably. Of course, this has been made more difficult in the past thousand years due to Garmē’s disallowance from the Baltic World Tree, so Televelis has become rather lax in this regard.


 * Loki Laufeyjarson: A sly deity and/or Jötunn (giant) from Scandinavia that acknowledged the past actions of Garmē so much that he took him under his wing for a century. Loki is one of the few individuals who was actually deemed, rather ironically, trustworthy by the smith-god. Perhaps mutual respect and sympathy has its role to play in this, for both gods suffered consequences of their actions in the past.

Minor

 * Kanako Yasaka: The goddess of the Moriya Shrine whom Garmē failed to make a deal with. Similar to Zenshin Tan, Garmē promised to her that he would one day return to Japan. Kanako's tactful past and present pursuits of gaining land and faith interest Garmē greatly.


 * Rinraku no Youjin Kageki: The Bearer of the Brazen and Ferrous holds a nasty grudge against the Demon God of Beautiful Degradation, for it was he who sullied the Smith-God's honor by motivating the Northern Crusade and even slaughtering his Prussian kin. This had all occurred while Garmē could do nothing in retaliation, banned from his former land.


 * Suwako Moriya: Garmē sought out this native kami after Kanako caused him to worry about the state of the metals in the land. After some initial questioning, the most of which merely gave the Smith-God half-hearted remarks, he vehemently proclaimed that "One does not simply retire from godly duties despite the situation." His outpouring of power forced the native kami to finally take her original form, and with it came the true ways of her personality. After a great coalescing of ancient powers, Suwako realized that this Baltic god wished to help her regain her pride, and agreed to assist Garmē in his current endeavors.

Followers

 * Dzintars Lielais: Essentially Garme's right-hand man since the Battle of Pelkosnjarga, Dzintars helps keep the Smith God's army of sorcerers and shamans well-trained and meticulously disciplined. Garme probably trusts no one as much as him, and recounts his deeper plans for the future to Dzintars. He was appointed as the Chieftain of the Baltan (Baltic) Province, which covers most of the areas straddling the Baltic Sea under Romuva-Suomenusko control.


 * Svyatoslav Volkhvin: After Dzintars, Elder Volkhvin is Garme's second most trusted individual in the Romuva-Suomenusko Alliance. The two actively hold scholarly discourse on a philosophical level, and Svyatoslav will often invoke Garme's essence in rituals. Furthermore, when insufficient amounts of the Smith-God's essence is present to perform socio-political actions, Svyatoslav temporarily assumes the level of Chieftain of the Prēikalas (Hammer) Province. Said province stretches across parts of Western Russia, Belarus, and Finland. It is imperative that someone is present in said province to oversee the blessings of metal.


 * Sarvik: Garme appointed Sarvik to the position of Chieftain of the Zaljan (Green) Province at the old shaman's request. He knows that Sarvik is quite the accomplished author, and aimed to give him an enclave that combined bookmaking on an industrial scale with a lush and diverse environment - perfect for grooming new shamans. It is rare for Sarvik to converse with Garme, for the shaman often has obligations to the realm of Hell, but he does find the odd shaman's outlook to be interesting on a philosophical level.


 * Kuz'ma Alyoshavich Loboda: Popovich's son was found by Garme a few centuries ago in a state of near-death. After reviving his body with the help of Jakamas, Kuz'ma finally achieved his goal to become a hermit, and immediately challenged the Smith-God to a battle. Kuz'ma lost, but Garme was extremely impressed at this man's skill and worldly outlook. Fairly recently, he appointed him to be the Chieftain of the Latakan ("Equine") Province, which is where the Romuva-Suomenusko Alliance houses its proving grounds and the majority of its heavy industries. Kuz'ma has since proven to be a promising Chieftain, and is quite pleased that Garme gave him the chance to test his radical technological ideas.


 * Jakamas Prekybininkas: Among Dzintars, Sarvik, and Garme, Jakamas is a member of the original Great South Baltic Wizards. His work ethic and highly specific knowledge made him an excellent choice to oversee the amber trade which the Romuva-Suomenusko Alliance so very much prides itself on. He is adept in advising Garme in economic matters, and is so accustomed to speaking with the deity that he even chides him on account of his less well-considered plans. That is not to say that Jakamas thinks poorly of Garme - quite the opposite, in fact. Garme does not mind this, since he encourages advice from any of his peers.


 * Others: The Smith-God is known and revered as a sagely, life-giving deity throughout the Romuva-Suomenusko Alliance. Nevertheless, it is very rare for those members outside the Chieftains, the Senate, and the Priests/Elders to bear witness to Garme's combined essence. Most would know parts of his spirit in passing through minor invocations.

Trivia

 * Garmē’s greatest enjoyment comes from seeing the primal, visceral nature of metal being heated within a forge. His essence is hard-wired to key onto such things.


 * A being originally born in the Baltic, Garmē has a taste for foods that derive from his ancestral homeland. It is of the utmost importance to him that he remembers the foods that were sacrificed to the gods upon his birth - such things were symbols of fertility, kindness, and piety.


 * Bartering is an opportunity that Garmē will usually not turn down, since he loves to determine how sly individuals are based on the sorts of deals that they can make.


 * Learning from Väinämöinen in Finland and Loki in Northern Europe, Garmē became versed in skald-singing and word-weaving. An introduction by him will usually involve him spinning rhyme or perhaps even making a poem. Such a thing provides at least a fleeting feeling of jovialness and gaiety for Garmē.


 * It is possible that Garmē first came to being sometime during the Copper Age, and not the Bronze Age, but oral tradition tends to change over time and become corrupted.


 * In the old Northeastern German community of Mecklenburg, there exist some weathered idols and derelict ruins of glorious temples from a distant past. Here, Garmē and his father were worshiped dually as supreme gods, evident in the propensity of the formerly-Slavic populace to provide coins and metal as offerings.


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