CHAPTER 22: Campaign
It was a day after Grugg Hawkon was formally appointed Chieftan of the Pacifists and a whole 24 hours had been digested since then, and now it was already campaign time for the next election in a week. This next election was Hawkon's to win and he knew he was going to win it - he was aiming to not only jump into first place but to double the number of votes he got in the last election that he lost.
The entire point of the election for Hawkon personally was to show a rally round the flag result, a unified tribe behind him as an individual. Only after the election was he going to begin implementing the emergency proposals he promised in his acceptance speech yesterday on the ledge.
To the surprise of the Founding Father, Hawkon was more than happy to allow candidates to stand in this next election against him. It wasn't entirely Hawkon's choice to decide whether or not candidates could stand against him anyways as the Founding Father had the final say on those issues, but the way in which Hawkon accepted it and was more than happy to do that, it was almost like a relief for the Father.
Everywhere on Pacifist Island you went, you couldn't go anywhere without seeing a New Pacifist flag hung up not just on the huts but on big newly constructed wooden poles planted into the grass. On wells, on blacksmith huts, in the plains, the flags were draped everywhere. This was to be the first ever emblem for the Pacifists as they embarked on a new era as the 'New Pacifists', for as long as Hawkon was Chieftan.
They've never had a viking emblem before unlike the other tribes on the Barbaric Archipelago. That was going to change under Hawkon.
Venturing across the village covered in small and medium sized New Pacifist flags, one of the candidates standing in the next election was a middle aged Pacifist called Tull Brann - he was in his middle 40s and, despite the new Chieftan and these flags, was a great opponent to Grugg Hawkon and the notion of him as Chieftan.
He feared for the tribe's integrity and felt like it couldn't afford even a short four years of Hawkon as its Chieftan. He knew very well the book of 'Rising Up' and the ideas in it made him feel sick. He intended on providing the anti-Grugg Hawkon voice and alternative in this snap, short notice election. He had a group of Pacifists follow him in a circle and he had written a bunch of leaflets to distribute to the village.
"SAY NO TO INEXPERIENCE!" his supporters yelled to everyone in their miniature sized circle of followers around the New Pacifist flagged village.
Most vikings just carried on with their day, from carrying around supplies like fishing rods and metal, to congregating with their families and taking a general wander around the village for the first time since Hawkon's appointment. Barely anyone was paying attention to Tull Brann and his vikings.
The leaflets, made out of a yellowish, almost soggy piece of paper like an ancient map, were going out quite well. But whether or not the Pacifists were reading them or simply just disposing of them right away after being handed one, that wasn't so clear. But either way, Brann was intent on building up a rebellion against Hawkon's idea of the leadership and path he quite obviously wished to take the tribe.
"Hi lad, could you just take a few minutes outta your busy time to talk to us?" Brann asked a younger looking Pacifist who was carrying around a hammer on his shoulder from using the anvils before.
As the busy village continued to be congregated by Pacifists as they walked around getting on with their daily jobs, Tull Brann and his supporters took the young Pacifist to the side of the gravel path so they weren't being knocked into constantly by the busy vikings walking around.
It was a surreal sight to see so many vikings out and about despite the dragon attacks crisis. It seemed that with Hawkon now Chieftan there was a surge in braveness on the part of the Pacifists to walk around and just pretend nothing was happening. There was a feeling that standing their ground under the new Chieftan would drive off the attacks from the beasts due to the prevalence the Pacifists were now showing.
"You heard about the upcoming election?" Brann asked the young Pacifist.
"Mate I think it's already a finished conclusion who's winning it - what's the point? I'm dismayed by what we've done," he replied.
"So you agree with us that Hawkon is a disaster in waiting?"
"Absolutely. How could we have allowed someone like him, who contradicts what we've stood for since our founding, to become Chieftan? my only hope is that he's so young he'll collapse under the pressure and the Founding Father dismisses him," the young Pacifist said.
"I think he will too. He's under control from the Father as well so any orders he does give or plans, they'll be firmly controlled by the Father ultimately. But it's still a sight for disaster, I just wanna ask if you can vote for us in the next election to at least put a stop to him?" Brann asked.
"What's the point? he'll win again."
"I might not win it or anyone else but it'll show that there's a silent majority in the tribe against him, and that way he'll feel less inclined to implement some of the things he's written about in the past in that book."
The young Pacifist seemed to be thinking about it. He lowered the hammer and dropped it to the grass to ease the weight on his shoulder.
"I guess I can afford to do it. Again, I don't think he'll lose but to build up a dissenting voice in the tribe against him, I'll be up for doing that."
"Good lad," Brann said, patting the young Pacifist on the back, "come and join our cause here my boy. We're going around the island promoting my ideas and my candidacy."
"I'll vote for you but I still need to get on with my daily chores, otherwise I would join you. I'm still pretty terrified about being burnt by those dragons so I'll play it by the anvil hut for now mate."
Tull Brann once again patted the young converted Pacifist on the back, his hand bumping the gear of the young early 20s viking. Upon shaking his hand afterwards, Brann and his circle of followers carried on in their way around the village and their ultimate journey all around the island for the campaign.
It was simply a working day for the Pacifist vikings as they attempted to stand their ground against any potential dragon attack. Some noticed Tull Bran and his followers as they went around the island yelling out their campaign slogans and their entirely anti-Hawkon messages, and some simply carried on with their work. Brann was able to pick up some dissent ultimately around the island about Hawkon but the dissent seemed to be more volatile than it was the day before Hawkon was appointed Chieftan.
Walking to the outskirts of the main village reaching the shores of Pacifist Island, Tull Bran and his viking supporters looked to plant flags of their own around the vicinity. And there was no better place to do that than the beaches which were free of banners. The New Pacifist banners hooked onto practically most huts around the main village were an eye sore, you'd become a billionaire if you made a bet on how many you could see. They were that prevalent and common, even after just one day following Hawkon's appointment.
Tull Brann looked to counter that and to bring down the brand of 'New Pacifists' that propelled Grugg Hawkon into becoming Chieftan. And he couldn't wait to get started.
As they reached the outskirts of the village looking out to the beaches in the vicinity, with numerous viking voices still remaining in a congregated manner in the air from the vikings doing their jobs around the village, Tull Brann looked to his medium sized pool of followers.
"Alrighty lads, we've done an okay job. Now we're gonna take the fight to the little boy by playing him at his own game. We need to show him as much disrespect as possible, we need to put out our own banners on the beaches to begin with, so people will notice us. I intend on being Hawkon's main challenger in this election so we need to fight back like we're gonna win. Our leaflets went out quite good which means vikings are picking up the message. Now we need to up the ante. Lads, let us-"
Brann wasn't able to complete his sentence. A group of twenty Pacifist vikings stormed to Brann and his supporters, all of them wearing not white gear, but plain black gear, in sharp contrast with the historical gear of the Pacifist tribe. They viciously ran and charged like they were in races from the village directly to who they interpreted as the main candidate against Hawkon in Tull Brann, as well as his followers.
As soon as they came within reaching distance the black-geared men viciously grabbed the chests of Brann's supporters and hauled them down to the ground like predators.
"WHAT ARE YOU DOING LADS?! GET OFF EM!" Brann yelled.
Unfortunately his words carried no weight in being able to question the mindset of these black geared Pacifists.
One by one they tripped over Brann's supporters and as soon as their backs collided with the grassy paths of the village, they all sent their fists pelting into the stomachs of Brann's supporters, their noses, their faces, just about wherever they could land a punch.
Five of them ran over to Brann and hauled him to the ground, using gravity to their advantage to make his drop as painful as possible. They grabbed his soggy looking yellow ancient leaflet and utterly ripped it apart into pieces like a shredder. They gripped Brann by the neck and before he knew it, Brann's eyes were the targets of deadly, merciless knuckles coming to him like rapid bullets.
The whole village gathered around to witness the fight, but it was so brutal and violent that many of them, out of intimidation of getting involved, simply backed off. A few Pacifists couldn't help but circle around though in decent numbers to watch the commotion. None of them knew what the purpose of this fight was between the black geared Pacifists and the ones on the ground.
Some of the Pacifists covered their kid's eyes and simply escorted themselves away from the environment. It was a scary sight to witness a group of black geared fellow tribesmen engage in a fight like that, and they had absolutely no idea what the purpose behind it was.
Shortly afterwards, the black geared Pacifists, in concluding their brutal beatdowns of Tull Brann and his numerous followers, all stood up and simply walked off in a choreographed looking manner, all leaving the area at the same time. What they left in their footsteps was a group of battered down, hurt, violently attacked Pacifists who were roundly used as punching bags for absolutely no reason.
Tull Brann couldn't even open his eyes, nor could the other supporters of his feel their legs as their stomachs absolutely burnt with pain. They felt like they were bleeding inside. And as the black geared Pacifists disappeared back into the village, with every Pacifist staring at them out of wariness after witnessing what they had just done, a couple of Pacifists gathered to Tull Brann and his supporters to help them up.
The Pacifist vikings were afraid of talking about the election as word got out to the entire tribe of that group of black geared fellow tribesmen beating down their own members of the tribe for no reason.
It had been a couple of hours later and even more black geared Pacifists were roaming the village, but this time, they were carrying a purpose of their own. This particular collection of them had no need to attack or use violence, for there was no identifiable campaign opposing the cause they were recruited to enforce subtly out of the eyes of the Founding Father.
Going hut by hut, numerous groups of these black geared Pacifists walked across the island and spoke to their numerous tribesmen and women asking about the election. A couple of them right now were at the hut of a young Pacifist who simply didn't want to leave his hut after witnessing the commotion earlier on with that unprovoked fight.
"Hi lads?" he said to the black geared Pacifists, his voice shaking with an ever so hidden stutter as he stood in the frame of his hut's door.
"You will be voting for our Chieftan, the great Grugg Hawkon?" one of the black geared Pacifists asked.
"Of course I will! it's time for us to deal with the problem that's faced us! Hail Hawkon all the way!"
"You'll be sure to turn up on the day we vote, yes?" they asked him.
"Absolutely! I wouldn't miss this chance for the world, for this archipelago!" he emphatically replied.
"What's your name lad? we'll be sure to remind you on the day in case you somehow forget so it's a good idea for you to give us your name, we are a big tribe after all!"
"Of course of course!" the young Pacifist said to the black geared men, not with any true desire to give his name, but out of fear.
He didn't want to have the same fate as those other guys before.
The campaign set to overtake the tribe amidst Hawkon's emergence as the new Chieftan had simply taken a turn towards a sinister path. Even though Hawkon's power at this point was limited in thanks to the Founding Father, he clearly managed to create some sort of police-like enforcers of devoted Pacifist supporters of his, almost like he was resorting to brutal violence to get the result he wanted.