The history of Krenn

By order of Amalareiks Vlandi, son of Warnefrid, Rex of Vlandia, let it be known that Liutprand Pertingi, by merit of services performed for his liege, is hereby appointed Gastald of Krenn.

- The following was pronounced on Pravend, 14 October 831. During that day of handing out gifts and compliments, one could not wonder if Krenn seemed more like a burden.

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The swampy swamp of Krenn

Krenn (Krwehn), its name’s origins lost to the ages, is a tiny, craggy plot of land always considered some backwoods place and mostly avoided by travellers in favor of less dark, more civlized places. This land never saw much development. Even at its heights it wasn`t anything remarkable. And now, its lord has abandoned it. Its people have been left to live by themselves. And as one half from the Esten is home to a few hard-living farmers, on the other half no one can tell what lives there.

Krenn’s past is as murky as the water of its swamps. It can only be surmised this was ancestral Battanian land until they were driven back by the Empire, granted to Vlandians until they were driven from the Continent only to conquer it again. Its history that has been written, like its landscape, is dull and uninteresting, though its rumors are outlandish and macabre.

Some folk are said to still practice magic deep in these uncut woods and unsown earth, speaking through forgotten words summons for ancient gods. Stories of glowing stones of power, wronged spirits roaming as wights, monsters and men blurring each other’s definitions. Other tales tell how the folk from the other side, civilized and Makerist, struggle to maintain the light of civilization going; numbering few at times, and not enough at best, how in this land the law is upheld or broken.

The last Gastald, one Hermechis, left his own lands due to what can only be described as pure insanity. “The Baba calls,” he said, and left. He had no family, and his retinue decided to abandon his manor since, understandably, there was no payment to be had. The people of Krenn thus had no lord for 30 years. The land fell decrepit, the old bridge crossing the Esten has fallen apart, the soil has given in and sunken the walls around the hill and the fishing huts and the path to the farm and mills has been blocked by a landslide.

We can only pray the new Gastald turns Krenn into something worthy of respect.

Written by Borrisnator