Meine Bosma
Ik sil dyn mem har achterstik skoppe
Out of Character Information
- Objective: To flesh out the history, beliefs, and way of life of the myriad tribes and clans calling themselves the Frisaia
- Category: Homogenous Culture
- Image Credit: Jan Steen: The Happy Family, Winter Scene
- Development Thread: N/A
- Permissions: N/A, Frisaia Freedom is OOC and IC!
General Information
- Name: The Frisaia, Frisaians
- Classification: Indigenous
- Affiliation: The Frisaia are collectively represented in a voluntary council known as the Friezen Frijheid, or the Frisaian Freedom in more common tongues. The Friezen Frijheid is not so much a formal organization as it is a sporadic gathering of the various tribes and clans that determines what is and is not permitted within their lands.
- Description: The Frisaia are a people doomed to the most inhospitable and forgotten land in all of Ostrien, or so many of their neighbors would have you believe. Theirs is a land of flood plains, marshes, and thick forests prowling with man-eating beasts. Few would ever dare to make their home in such a place, and it is for that reason that the Frisaia have thrived. Left to their own devices and forced to work together or perish amidst the marshes, the Frisaia have developed a unique independence streak. A man must be a farmer, a tailor, a warrior, a fisherman, and a thousand other professions, because no one else is going to do any of it for him. If he is incapable, then he must learn, and if he cannot learn, then he is not Frisaia. As the Frisaia is a certain kind of God to another Frisaia, so too is he a kind of wolf. He holds the power to save or destroy in equal measure: thus, he is of the same station, and hierarchy can only be derived from voluntary action.
With that belief in mind, it is easy to understand the Frisaia's opposition toward feudal structures. There has never been a count, margrave, duke, or any other hereditary leader of the Frisaia. In times of crisis or mutual need, the leaders of the Frisaia, titled Tydhear, are elected by all present adults regardless of gender, faith, or creed. The Tydhear is expected to resolve whatever issue brought about his station and give up power as soon as a resolution is met. Tydhears are only elected in times of great chaos, such as war or plague, and generally only one or two appear every decade. This has become an issue as of late, given the Frisaia's forceful inclusion in the Realm of Ostrien and their subsequent need for representation. As such, recent Tydhears have retained their positions for some time to serve as diplomats, though even then their tenures are limited.
If they were left to do as they pleased, the Frisaia would have likely continued their peaceful subsistence existence, along with their worship of ancestors and the old gods. Unfortunately for the marsh dwellers, the Emperor Marloman had different plans.
The Frisaia had long kept ties to their neighbors via maritime trade and domestic exchange, and it was through those links that the first Curian missionaries began to spread their faith among the freefolk. Many of the Frisaia were receptive to the new gospel, incorporating worship of this new divine into the pantheon of their native gods. A strange syncretism arose in Frisaia that was at first dismissed by Curian missionaries as a stopgap between true revelation and their previous ignorance. The Curian faith proved quite popular in fact, with most Frysaians welcoming this benevolent god, but their worship was viewed as impure. Rather than shed the pagan attributes of their faith, this Frysaian syncretism began to spread into the realms of other peoples. Reports of merchants from Westmannia and Ceshemia selling idols of the Frysaian Tide God Jip as a Curian saint were brought to the Ostrien court.
Something had to be done.
When an army of men gathered from across the Ostrien realm marched on Frisaia, the people assumed it was heading for Neustrava. There had been raids from the northmen yes, but no one in living memory had ever dared to march an army into the marshes. The first few days were marked by slaughter. Any settlement that harbored 'pagan idolatry' was put to the torch. Those townsfolk that paid loyalty to the Curian creed were assumed to be corrupted by their kinsmen and put down all the same. The rivers of the marsh wept tears of blood as its children were ripped apart by Curian steel. All the fertile plains on the outer periphery of Frysaia burned as the people withdrew deep into the marshes.
The survivors gathered what weapons they'd managed to abscond with and voted for a new Tidehear, Jan Doostwalder. Jan was a renowned priest of Jip, and promised his people salvation so long as they cast off the chains of the foreign Curia. Many did so, with those that refused sent off to wage a guerilla war against Marloman's rear guard. The further the Ostriens entangled themselves in the marshes, the tighter the vines around their neck.
Left with his faithful, Jan preached a sermon and led his followers into the deep heart of the marsh, where none but Jip's priests had been permitted before. There it is said they came upon a great tree with roots reaching up toward the heavens. The tree had grown into the earth rather than above it, and a path was had been carved into its depths. Jan led five of his chosen into that darkness. When they returned, they were changed: their flesh deathly pale, eyes colorless, and their limbs moving with the fluidity of the waves. Those six beckoned Marloman's cohort into the heart of the marsh, and the emperor obliged the challenge.
What happened there is so debated that fact and fiction have become one. It is a myth as much as it is history. If one asks the Frisaians, Jan and his chosen channeled the very waters of the marsh with their bodies and drowned hundreds of footmen beneath a cascade of tidal waves. The Ostriens were routed utterly, but the powers Jan and his chosen used were too tremendous. Each of them died where they stood as the Ostriens fled, and the Frysaians were forced to agree to an uncomfortable peace before the Ostriens realized their power over the marsh had ebbed.
If one were to ask the Ostriens, Jan and his chosen deceived the emperor with promises of peace talks and then unleashed a dishonorable surprise attack that murdered hundreds of good men under a peace banner. Whatever stories of pagan magics the Frisaians might babble on about are nothing more than typical provincial idiocy. What matters to the Ostriens is that every Frisaian settlement on the boundaries of the marsh openly declares allegiance to the Curia and to the emperor. That many of those settlements might be lying is conveniently ignored for the sake of peace and trade.
For now, the Frisaia will kowtow to the emperor and pay his token sum when the tithe is demanded. Even as they do so, the old ways still flourish within the marshes, and it is said that the old tree still speaks Jik's will to those paying enough attention to listen. The Ostrien's attempts to install new Margraves and bring Frisaia into the feudal system are ongoing and as stalled now as they were thirty years ago. The last two drowned in a bog after nights of drinking, and the one before that simply disappeared while hunting in the marsh. Investigations that followed found no evidence of foul play, and no Frisaia in his right mind would dare to say otherwise.
Overview
- Presence: The Frysaia dominate the province of Frisenmark in terms of demographics. Beyond that, they can be found scattered across the empire and beyond serving as mercenaries and privateers. Frysaians are noteworthy for their skill as shipwrights, navigators, and oarsmen. Some say a Frysaian navigator can chart his position by communing with the moon on well-lit nights, though this is likely another Frysaia myth.
- Population: Uncommon
- Demographics: The Frysaia are ethnically similar to their neighbors, with significant inputs from the Northmen, Albion, and Greater Ostrien. Whilst open to outsiders as long as they accept Frysaia ways, they have traditionally been an insular patchwork of multiple different tribes and clans. The Frysaia of the coast and interior tend to be taller with lighter complexions and hair colors. They are generally considered quite beautiful, and as such have often been the target of slave raids by the Northmen in the past. The marsh dwellers are generally of a stouter make, often built far heavier but significantly shorter than their coastal cousins. They are generally quite hairy and known for sporting dark red beards and outlandish hairstyles.
- Languages: Frysaia: The mother tongue of the Frysaia, it shares its origins with the tongues of the Ostermen and the Albish. It is common for Frysaia outside the marshes to speak Nordur, Albish, and Ostermanni as trade languages.
- Spiritual Beliefs: The Frysaia officially follow the canon of the Curia. Realistically, their beliefs range from orthodox Curianism, to syncretism, to outright worship of their ancestors and the Tide God Jip's pantheon.
Culture
- General Lifestyle: The vast majority of the Frysaia live very simple lives. They build small huts in the marshes or erect settlements of mounded earth called terps along the coast. The coast dwellers survive on fishing and whaling, whilst the more adventurous of their ilk take to foreign shores to raid for plunder. The marsh dwellers tend to keep to themselves in large family units, often surviving on selling pelts from the large beasts of the marsh or spearfishing for subsistence. Some small farms dot the edges of the marsh, but all Frysaia are taught to live in harmony with their environment and often seek to build in tandem with it rather than conquer it. It is said that there are villages built from vines amidst the trees in the heart of the marsh, where ancient priests teach the old ways to those they find worthy, but that remains hearsay.
Every two weeks denizens gather near the coastal towns to hock their goods. It is here that any issues affecting the locals are put forward and voted on by any adult with an opinion. If the issue is significant enough, a greater gathering is called, traditionally held every three months on a rotation from village to village. It is at these large gatherings that the tithe to the Ostriens is gathered.
Outside of cultural gatherings, the Frysaia are a mostly atomized people. Families and settlements tend to keep to themselves, valuing the other Frysaia as their kin, but fiercely defending their right to live as they see fit. Concepts such as land ownership and private property are fluid in the Frysaia: those within the marshes tend to live utterly egalitarian and minimalist lives, sharing homes and goods with their kinfolk and respectful passerbys. The coastal Frysaia are more orthodox in their view of property, but still tend toward communal living: sharing tools, grazing fields, and even ships from time to time on little more than a promise of returned favor.
- Cultural Values: The Frysaia are as diverse as they are uniform. Their moderate independence, so often won at the point of a spear, has led them to view freedom as a foundational tenant. To the Frysaia, all men are equal, and the radical notion that women too should bear the same rights as men has gained popular support since the invasion of the Ostermen. Egalitarian democracy defines Frysaia society alongside a rabid opposition toward any semblance of hereditary rule.
Beyond that, the Frysaia are the wardens of the old ways. Whilst paying lip service to the Curia and often following its canon enthusiastically, the Frysaia retain most of their ancient traditions. The first Frysaia are said to have walked out of the bogs of the marsh as children thousands of years ago. They were raised by the Tide God Jik who found them as wandering orphans. Jik explained to the Frysaia that the marsh was the beating heart of the continent, and that all other men had sought to conquer it and had been swallowed up by their ambitions. He taught them to live in harmony with the marsh, to serve as its wardens and caretakers, and in turn they would be free of the designs of mortal men. Exploitation of the marsh's resources is strictly forbidden. Marsh dwellers are expected to only take what they need, and to replenish whatever they have taken if possible.
In the modern day, this shows itself in the strong environmentalist stance of the Frysaia. Those within the marshes pay respect to the spirits wandering their forests, often refuse to eat meat unless it was killed and ritually prepared by their own hand, and are expected to care for wounded wildlife if they are able. It is not uncommon for young Frysaia to 'take a walk', meaning an ascetic spiritual journey into the heart of the marsh where their souls are measured by the vines. They take these journeys alone, often disappearing for months at a time only to reappear disheveled and wizened in their old homes. It forbidden to speak of what occurs on these walks, but many of the young men and women that take them come back fundamentally changed. Some do not return at all.
The coastal Frysaia, or the 'civilized Frysaia' as the Ostermen often call them, live lives more akin to their neighbors. They live in small communities and attend church proceedings as all good Ostermen do. They bow to foreigners and welcome them warmly, so long as the foreigners respect their ways. Outwardly hospitable and considered a cheery folk, the coastal Frysia have long learned to hide their true selves from the outside world. They disappear into the marshes in twos and threes on nights of the full moon to commune with the Goddess Fre, wife of Jik, and living aspect of the moon. When babies are born, mothers quietly pray to Fre for the infant's life as soon as the Curians leave the room.
The coastal Frysaia pay as much respect to the natural world as their marsh-dwelling kin. If a ship is to be built, the shipwright is expected to ask the marsh's blessing for the required lumber and explain to Jik why it is needed. If his request is accepted, he shall feel a stirring in his soul, and he may only take exactly as he needs. Then, he is expected to replant three trees for each one he has cut down. This has resulted in a very sluggish growth of the Frysaia economy and even the coastal Frysaia are considered poverty stricken, but it has also preserved the natural wonder of Frisenmark. Most villages are built into the forest rather than replacing it entirely, and those few lands that are cultivated for large scale farming and animal husbandry were marked out by Jik centuries ago so that his people might prosper. These areas are considered holy places and are used communally. The encroachment of the Ostermen and their desire to see the land further cultivated has led to tension between them and the Frysaia, and the Frysaia go to great pains to hide these places from the eyes of foreigners.
Most Frysaia converts, be they purists or syncretics, tend to keep the old ways. They only invoke the Curian God's name rather than Jik's when they act -- for his part, Jik does not care to who the praise goes to, so long as the marsh remains pure.
- Distinctive Traits: Communalism, Egalitarianism, Environmentalism, opposition to feudalism and traditional hierarchy
- Festivities & Traditions: The Frysaia are lovers of music and mirth. Each gathering of the Frysaia is a festival in itself and is often host to traditional dances and singing competitions. The Frysaia poets, the only 'educated' Frysaia in the eyes of foreigners, tell beautiful tales of ages long since passed to wide eyed children and ancient grandmothers alike.
Beyond their typical meetings, nights of the full moon are considered extremely important. The Frysaia believe that Fre has a physical presence on Gaia on these nights, and it is then that her power is at her apex. It is said that the most spiritually attuned of the Frysaia can speak with her then to glimpse possible futures in the marsh's mists. Traditionally, the Frysaia would gather to sing and offer prayers to the moon, but now such gatherings are done in secret, lest the Ostermen unleash their wrath on the coastal Frysaia once again.
- Inter-Cultural Relations: The Frysaia, much like the waters they claim to be their lifeblood, are fluid in their relations with their neighbors. The coastal Frysaia have accepted that they must interact with foreigners if they wish to retain their way of life. The marsh-dwellers want nothing more than to be left alone. They have been taught by Jik to respect foreign cultures, but at the same time are subject to the trauma of the Osterman invasions. Their naturally welcoming nature has been warped by a need for self-preservation, and so the Frysaia have mixed opinions from and towards their neighbors.
The Ostermen are viewed with revulsion and fear by those old enough to remember the slaughter. The young Frysaia have mixed opinions: some wishing to emulate the 'civilized' and 'noble' bearing of the Ostermen, and others praying each night for Jik to swallow the rest of the continent in his tides.
The Northmen have transplanted much of their culture into the Frysaia way of life, and at the same time have often been the source of its woe. Northern raiders have plagued the coasts of the Frysaia for generations, absconding mostly with slaves as the Frysaia have little wealth worth taking. In the past, some Northmen have claimed lordship over the Frysaia as the Ostermen do. Their rule was always brief, but it brought about a certain synthesis between their pantheon and that of the Frysaia. The Frysaia developed a strong maritime tradition in response, and their 'People's Fleets' now traverse the North Sea to routinely harass Northmen ships. They specifically target slaving vessels, often stealing everything not nailed down, freeing the slaves, and setting the Northman ships to the torch. Several small coastal settlements are inhabited entirely by these freed slaves, who are considered just as Frysaia as any other.
Curiously, rather than execute the Northmen, survivors are routinely captured and delivered to the marsh-dwellers so that they might have their souls tested by Jik. Those that are found wanting never return, but the few with ears to listen and hearts to understand emerge as new Frysaia. Indeed, some of the marsh's greatest zealots are former northern raiders.
The Albish and the Holsalanders are viewed much like the Northerners: cousins never given the chance to find their way. The Frysaia view them as kinsmen corrupted by blood hierarchy and feudalism. It is said in ancient days that the Albish, Holsalanders, and the Frysaia were one people united in faith and tongue. Then the Primans conquered, and with their conquest came the decline of the Frysaia. Now, only the children of the marsh carry the old ways.
Further Information
In summary, the Frysaia are an anomaly on the continent. Utterly committed to independence and living in harmony with their environment, they reject almost every aspect of modern feudal society. Theirs is a land where any man or woman can live as their heart desires, so long as they do not break the core tenets of the marsh. They are a mostly forgotten people and prefer it that way, their region being almost completely economically unviable, and their people more prone to revolt more than almost any other. Never were there a more unruly subject people.
They pay token respect to the emperor and acknowledge him as their liege, though there is little loyalty or love in that respect. The Ostermen rule by conquest and often make their revulsion toward the 'savage swamp scum' known, usually only ever interacting with them to collect tithes and ensure the Frysaian knee remains bent. The Frysaia are content to get along with their neighbors so long as their ways suffer no further encroachment, and this is preserved through the marsh's impenetrable nature and their secretiveness.
Unfortunately for the Frysaia, the tides are shifting. The moon priests whisper of a new war: a war in which Frysaia might find itself to be in the very heart of.
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