of Tulips and Birchwood

Valle Waling was wailing in agony as he awoke, his nightmares had tormented him yet again. Who was that olde Witchmaster in his mare-dreams?

Tulip fields and windmills near Rijnsburg by Claude Monet
Tulip fields and windmills

Valle lived his life among flowering tulips, calm canals and wonderful windmills. Yet his dreams of horror were set in another land entirely. A land of darkness, a land of frost and and deep deep forests.

In his dreams he once saw a mighty Birch-tree, it stood lonely on a frozen field. The skies were (…) There was something carved into the tree, he walked closer and he saw the name “Matteo”.

Suddenly day became night,
and the birch-tree was in flames!
He was approaching, yes,
the Witchmaster was there!

Valle awoke, wailing.

Winds blew, windmills turned and the tulips danced. But for Valle, every night was terror, and every day was waking agony. When would it be over? Sun would rise, summer would come, and again turn into autumn and winter. And the Witchmaster would torment him in his dreams.

Valle would walk aimlessly among the tulips, neither asleep nor awake. Days and nights were one, and he saw no other escape than death. Valle took his knife and opened his wrist. As his life emptied onto the ground, he felt the power of the Witchmaster diminish. His mind was clearer, he would soon be free! He laid down among the tulips, yes, it was finally over. As he closed his eyes, he saw the shadow of a figure standing above him. He opened his eyes one last time. The lands froze, it was Matteo the Witchmaster!

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Valle Valle Waling!

Olde Witchmaster!
Is She pregnant again?
And now, she blew his mind
to live His will.

Words and deeds
I’m not your knowledge
I am knowledge, control
I do not know.
Waling! Valle!

Wailing!
To this end,
drink a lot of water
and rich, full sqvill
even shower.

And now it’s old bones!
Take the case of the poor in rags;
Long live you slaves!
Now meet the demand!
Standing on two legs.
Hurry up and go!


– Written by Poet Jürgen Milchbucht, an inspiration for many here at TMHS and indeed for the whole Krim-Jacobian way of life. Thank you Jürgen!

Majahi Na-Majahi!

The letters and ciphers of Jakub z Tepence

A scholar just to our liking. Yet he must die.

– Former friends of the great Jakub z Tepence, before their betrayal

tepence

Encoded in blood is the story of Jakub z Tepence. They say he fell from a horse. The statement is true only in a wide, metaphorical sense: he fell from the tall horse of forbidden knowledge! Oh Ilium, Ilion, too grand, too proud. …

The actual facts and realities surrounding his death are clear to all trained in the occult practice of cryptographie. In his innovative schemes he tells any who would read (true and truly) of his coming demise, and the character (not content) of his recent findings. His inferences in these letters are indeed steeped in Apocryphal Logic – yes, that forgotten art so hideous to any pious servant of established order. No earthly position, such as Pharmacist to the Emperor or Master of Swans could shield him from heavenly (yet perfectly unangelical) assaults.

His destiny was death (as is, curiously, the destiny of most men). His grand estate of Tepence also crumbled, following the Master below ground and to vaster realms. But even as dust he forms a great impression: his message carved in alchemical blood, the blood of Krim. What blood it was!

Involvement of the Nerich clan in the ethnic clashes of Târgu Mureș

1990_Marosvasarhely
Târgu Mures during the ethnic clashes

The ethnic clashes of 1990 is one of many sad chapters in Târgu Mureş’ proud history. Situated in Transylvania, at the borders of Szeklerland, the Mures Folk speaks many languages and belongs to many cultures. To honor this, our patron Jacob Tepec founded the Cultural Palace, where he amongst other praised Hungarians and their qualities (reactionary and Nerichian scholars of modern Romania argue that this was simply a display of black humor), and held several exhibits showing important Romanian and Slavic folklore. However, the open-mindedness and multiculturalism of Tepec became less normal, peoples of different letters felt that their pride and lands where stolen. And the long dormant Evil of the Nerich Clan was woken once again.

Without the involvement of the Nerich clan, the disputes and quarrels would have been peacefully solved by discussion and debates at the very Cultural Palace. But the wisdom of old Tepec did not penetrate the anger of the Nerich-infected minds. Many people died.

etnic
A sad chapter (cultural palace in background)

The bitter seeds of Almonds

My dear Herman,

I write to you in this, the darkest of times. Our lands may be on the edge of conflict and despair, but I hope that our fellow search will not be distributed. The struggle between Fascism and Democracy should not impede our quest for Non-Nerichian Truth. As we both were tested before we formed, as we both will die before the ship sinks.

Once we were young, playful, in the Mures Valley. Almonds abundant, spirits strong. In these days, one can lose hope. We must never betray our search.

I am sure you already agree. However, this has to be mentioned. We must draw wisdom from our fellow friend and seeker, Niels.

Yours truly,

Jean DeWire


Excerpt from correspondence between Jean DeWire and Herman Ploppel, 1939.

“The Touch”

Heart of gold, beard of silver, draped in red...

At the end of the night calm air?
The child is the father of their duties;
A child branch
It’s a good idea to keep warm.

“My son, why hide your face in fear?”
“My son is gone.”

“You boy, come with me, come on
One of the most beautiful games, the touch;
Many colorful flowers on the beach
My “mother, or several coats

“My father and my father and listening
“Gradually, my son;

“Dear children, you say?
Daughter will have to wait;
Woman Dancing Bear Night
Rock, dance and dream of singing ”

“My father and my father can not be
Real Women dark place? ‘
“My son, my son, I do not understand:
Liu old gray.”

“I love you, and I have great appeal;
If desired, use and force “-

Father and met handshake quickly
My father and my father and I! ‘
Shipyard is very difficult;
His hands, infant mortality

Jacob Tepec, 1898

Johann and I

We sailed the seas, Johann and I.
The sails ripped, in the middle of the storm.
The heavens opened, our hopes fell.
No fish, no food, but company.
Johann and I.

Into the the darkness we gazed, Johann and I.
Spoke of drought and the almonds demise.
Spoke in the storm of our future travels.
A bird landed, it was calm.
We saluted death!
Johann and I.

– unknown origin, early 1900s
some scholars indicate Jakko Krimälainen as the original author

Krim Fundamentals – Guilt and Prosperity

thou shalt not

Consider for a moment what might drive a man from his birthplace. Cast then all these thoughts aside, for this is no ordinary tale of migration by need or wish. Were someone ever destined to take on a new name and then a new life, it must have been him.

And at that he took to the door and a bird grew wings of gold…

As written by the 16th-century scholar Tän Anghér in his last work: “Lord Krïm, Wanderer, Seeker”.