8611
A place for Aryan (European) Folkish Pagans
Winter Solstice
Iwobrand
And he spake these warm words, sadly, sorrowfully in praise of Ferdiad:
“There shall not be found the hand of a hero that will wound warrior’s flesh, like cloud-coloured Ferdiad!”
Then it was that Cuchulain arose and stood over Ferdiad: “Ah, Ferdiad,” spake Cuchulain, “greatly have the men of Erin deceived and abandoned thee, to bring thee to contend and do battle with me. For no easy thing is it to contend and do battle with me…And yet, never before have I found combat that was so sore or distressed me so as thy combat, save the combat, with Oenfer Aifè, mine one own son.”
Cuchulain threw the Gae Bulga…it passed through the strong, thick, iron apron of wrought iron, and broke in three parts the huge, goodly stone the size of a millstone, so that it cut its way through the body’s protection into him…
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It was then that Ferdiad arose early on the morrow and went alone to the ford of combat…For he knew that that would be the decisive day of the battle and combat; and he knew that one or other of them would fall there that day, or that they both would fall.
Cuchulain called and shouted to Laeg, and bade him…make ready the spear…
Early on the morrow they arose and repaired to the ford of combat. Then they took two full-great long-shields upon them for that day. They turned to their heavy, hard-smiting swords.
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Of every healing herb and grass and curing charm that was brought from the fairy dwellings of Erin to Cuchulain and was applied to the cuts and stabs, to the gashes and many wounds of Cuchulain, a like portion thereof he sent across the ford westward to Ferdiad, to put to his wounds and his pools of gore, so that the men of Erin should not have it to say, should Ferdiad fall at his hands, it was more than his share of care had been given to him.
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Thereupon each of them went toward the other in the middle of the ford, and each of them put his hand on the other’s neck and gave him three kisses in remembrance of his fellowship and friendship.
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“Come now, O Ferdiad,” cried Cuchulain, “not meet was it for thee to come to contend and do battle with me, because of the instigation and intermeddling of Ailill and Medb, and because of the false promises that they made thee. Because of their deceitful terms and of the maiden have many good men been slain. And all that came because of those promises of deceit, neither profit nor success did it bring them, and they have fallen by me.”
“Too long are we now in this way,” quoth Ferdiad.
Now how Cuchulain fared is related here: He arose not till the day with its bright light had come to him, lest the men of Erin might say it was fear or fright of the champion he had, if he should arise early. And when day with its full light had come, he passed his hand over his face and bade his charioteer take his horses and yoke them to his chariot. “Come, gilla,” said Cuchulain, “take out our horses for us and harness our chariot, for an early riser is the warrior appointed to meet us, Ferdiad son of Daman son of Darè. If Ferdiad awaits us, he must needs think it long.”
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“Ye men,” spake Medb, in the wonted fashion of stirring up disunion and dissension, as if she had not heard Ferdiad at all, “true is the word Cuchulain speaks.” “What word is that?” asked Ferdiad. “He said, then,” replied Medb, “he would not think it too much if thou shouldst fall by his hands in the choicest feat of his skill in arms, in the land whereto he should come.”
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Then did Medb despatch the druids and the poets of the camp, the lampoonists and hard-attackers, for Ferdiad, to the end that they might make three satires to stay him and three scoffing speeches against him...Ferdiad came with them for the sake of his own honour and for fear of their bringing shame on him, forasmuch as he deemed it better to fall by the shafts of valour and bravery and skill, than to fall by the shafts of satire, abuse and reproach.
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Then the men of Erin took counsel who would be fit to send to the ford to fight and do battle with Cuchulain, to drive him off from them at the morning hour early on the morrow. With one accord they declared that it should be Ferdiad…the own, dear, foster-brother of Cuchulain. And fitting it was for him to go thither, for well-matched and alike was their manner of fight and of combat.
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The four grand provinces of Erin were side by side and against Cuchulain, from Monday before Samain-tide to Wednesday after Spring-beginning, and without leave to work harm or vent their rage on the province of Ulster, while yet all the Ulstermen were sunk in their nine days’ ‘Pains,’ and Conall Cemach (‘the Victorious’) sought out battle in strange foreign lands paying the tribute and tax of Ulster.
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Weles (Veles) is a Slavic God of poetry and magic who rules the Underworld where he hosts the dead. Weles is also a God of riches and trade since the Underworld is full of valuable gems and ore. In folklore it’s described as a place similar to the world above, but lifeless and still. Even trees in the Underworld are made out of precious metals.
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The conception of gods in human terms was ultimately challenged: Xenophanes (ca. 560–478 BCE), the earliest known social critic of anthropomorphism, delivered trenchant attacks on the immorality of the gods in the Greek pantheon. Socrates (ca. 470–399 BCE) particularized his criticism of dissolute exploits: Hesiod, Homer, and other poets were to blame for telling tales in which gods—and so-called heroes—set a bad example. He was accused of corruptive behavior, put on trial, and executed.
Still, Xenophanes, Socrates, and others such as Euripides (ca. 480–406 BCE) helped propagate monotheism.
Olivier Serrat
The Homeric poems imagine what the reciprocal relationship might have looked like from the perspective of the gods: at Iliad, the many pious sacrifices offered in the past by Hector lead Zeus to wonder whether he should rescue him from death.
C.Metcalf
Thereupon Cuchulain hastened towards Ferdiad and clasped his two arms about him, and bore him with all his arms and his armour and his dress northwards over the ford, that so it should be with his face to the north of the ford the triumph took place and not to the west of the ford with the men of Erin.
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Gae Bulga…the wound of a single spear it gave when entering the body, and thirty barbs had it when it opened and it could not be drawn out of a man’s flesh till the flesh had been cut about it.
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Each of them fell to strike and to hew, to lay low and cut down, to slay and undo his fellow, till as large as the head of a month-old child was each lump and each cut, each clutter and each clot of gore that each of them took from the shoulders and thighs and shoulder-blades of the other.
Each of them was engaged in smiting the other in this way from the twilight of early morning till the hour of evening’s close.
“Let us leave off from this now, O Cuchulain!” cried Ferdiad.
“Aye, let us leave off, if the hour has come,” said Cuchulain.
Of every food and of every savoury, soothing and strong drink that was brought by the men of Erin to Ferdiad, a like portion thereof he sent over the ford northwards to Cuchulain; for the purveyors of Ferdiad were more numerous than the purveyors of Cuchulain. All the men of Erin were purveyors to Ferdiad, to the end that he might keep Cuchulain off from them.
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Their horses were in one and the same paddock that night, and their charioteers at one and the same fire; and their charioteers made ready a litter-bed of fresh rushes for them with pillows for wounded men on them.
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Each of them was engaged in casting at the other with the spears…However great the excellence of the defence, equally great was the excellence of the throwing on either side, so that each of them bled and reddened and wounded the other during that time.
“Let us leave off from this now, O Cuchulain,” said Ferdiad.
“Aye, let us leave off, an the time hath come,” answered Cuchulain.
Ferdiad waited on the south side of the ford; Cuchulain stood on the north side. It was not long before they met in the middle of the ford. And then it was that each of them cast sharp-cutting reproaches at the other, renouncing his friendship.
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“It was not just for him to speak so,” quoth Ferdiad; “for it is not cowardice or lack of boldness that he hath ever seen in me by day or by night. And I, speak not so to him, for I have it not to say of him. And I swear by my arms of valour, if it be true that he spoke so, I will be the first man of the men of Erin to contend with him on the morrow, how loath soever I am to do so!”
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And when Medb got Ferdiad drunken and merry, great rewards were promised him if he would make the fight and combat.
Then said they, one and all, those gifts were great. “’Tis true, they are great. But though they are,” said Ferdiad, “with Medb herself I will leave them, and I will not accept them if it be to do battle or combat with my foster-brother, the man of my alliance and affection, and my equal in skill of arms, namely, with Cuchulain.”
Then were messengers and envoys sent from Medb and Ailill to Ferdiad. Ferdiad denied them their will, and dismissed and sent back the messengers, and he went not with them, for he knew wherefore they would have him, to fight and combat with his friend, with his comrade and foster-brother, Cuchulain.
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Great was the plight and strait of Cuchulain during that time, for he was not a day or a night without fierce, fiery combat waged on him by the men of Erin...
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Going to get back to one of my favorite heroes Cuchulain and his most tragic tale.
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Swarog
Slavic God of smithing and fire.
Possibly the one who forged Perun’s lighting and chariot for the battle with the Serpent of Chaos.
True, some so-called minor gods were theriomorphic, from Ancient Greek thēríon (θηρίον, "animal") and morphē (μορφή, "form, shape"), and had the shapes of beasts (e.g., Achelous, Pan). Irrespective, all the gods had corporeal forms and attendant prototypically human motivations, be they biological, environmental (especially social), or psychological.
Olivier Serrat