Pre-Tribes announcement fluff that is now nerfed. Still, it's a nice story.
About Clann Briste
The Briste were a Clann of semi-nomadic people that settled in the Vornair regions in ages past. Their legends refer to the homeland "Beyond the Green sea." called Tir na Dóiteáin. While different in many aspects from their Vornic neighbors, trade did develope. The Briste were able hunters, herdsman, and craftsmen and were known to craft intricate jewelry and woolens that many of Vornic women prized. Still the differences in customs and language made for more than a few clashes between the two peoples and the Briste were known to raid Vorn homesteads that they deemed to close to their land.
During the War of Many Banners Clann Briste stood alone. At first, the Briste managed to fend off attacks from some of the smaller Vornic clans but as the High King unified the Vorn and pushed into Briste lands, Briste victories became fewer and fewer, as did their numbers.
The land around the current town of Bris was the final stand for Clann Briste. Greatly outnumbered against the unified army of the Vornic High King, Clann Briste fought almost to a man in a guerilla war lasting several weeks. They had resigned themselves to their deaths but vowed that if it was their lot to pass from this world they would be remembered, and take as many as the Fir Gruaige (the Briste phrase for the Vorn) with them.
The High King was inspired when during what would surely be the last battle with Clann Bristee, he watched as a young man took up his fallen father's sword and attacked the Vornic warriors. The young man, wearing no armor to speak of and covered in blood, fell armored men nearly twice his size and with a ferocity that inspired the remaining Briste men and women into a ferocity that shock the Vorn. The King knew it would be a crime to remove such heart from the world and sounded his Great Horn. As the sound of the Great Horn crashed over the field like a wave the fighting stopped. The tension on the field was tremendous but the King strode past his men towards the cadre of Briste.
What is your name, boy? He asked.
Tá mé Eoghan, cosúil le mo athair. Anois, Ceann Fine na Clann Briste! Déanfaimid bás lá atá inniu ann ach beidh tú ag cuimhneamh dúinn!
(I am Eoghan, like my father. Now, Chief of Clann Briste! We will die today but you will remember us!)
The High King removed his Great Helm.
I am Beinir Rhyne, High King of the Vorn. I have united all the clans and tribes under One Banner for the first time. Yet, your people stand alone and fight us to your last. Why?
Do you not fight for your land? Eoghan answered.
Indeed I do. I fight for all of our lands, as do all the Clans that join. We are stong when we are One, Eoghan. Your people are few but you are mighty. If you join us your people will live and this land will be yours for as long as the as the stars shine in the night sky and the Sun rises each day. Take your fallen and treat your wounded. I will return tomorrow for your answer.
With that the Vorn withdrew from the field and the Briste tended to their fallen and their wounded.
That night the Briste lit their fire and discussed the High Kings offer. There were so few them now but most had made their peace with death and were eager to meet it, such was their resolve. Still, some began to question if death was necessary. They had seen for themselves what the High King had accomplished.
Finally the woman Sorcha, a midwife, came to the council.
She said, Today, amongst all this blood and suffering a child was born. If we fight the Fir Gruaige they will find him and they will either kill him or take him and he will never know who his people are. The only way to solve that is to stop this fighting, or one of you must kill the child.
She walked around the group, shoving the newborn in the face of every man and woman there.
Will you make peace or will you kill the child? She demanded to each member. None would slay the child.
When she came to Eoghan she asked
And what of you, our new Chief? Will you make peace or will you slay the child?
Eoghan took the baby in his arms, but was torn. Then, when he looked at the baby, he began to weep. How could he kill this child? They had all accepted their fate but the child in his arms couldn't. It couldn't even hold it's head up, how could it be expected to accept death?
We will make peace, Eoghan said, This child can not do what we have done. We have lived, loved, and fought and know what it is that we fight for. This child does not. We have no right to make this decision for him when an alternative has been offered. We will make peace with the Fir Gruaige and raise this child. He will know of this day and when he is old enough, then he can decide for himself wht path to take. I suspect that with peace he will choose to live to a very old age.
What shall we call him? Sorcha asked
His name shall be Gairbith. the Rough Peace
The next morning the High King returned as he promised. As he walked into the makeshift camp Eoghan, the midwife Sorcha holding the newborn, and several other Briste met him. The king was puzzled by the appearance of a child.
He motioned to the child, Is the child yours, Eoghan?
No, Eoghan answered, He is the son of one of my Father's men who fell and his mother died in childbirth. We have named him Gairbith and it is for his sake that we accept your offer. We will join with you so that this child and the rest of our children may live and know who they are.
And so it was that the Vorn and the Clann Briste joined. According to local legend, The Flying Tiger Inn sits on the site where the peace was brokered and every year the Inn, run by the descendants Gairbith, hold a feast in honor of the birth of the child that brought peace.