#finnfolk

The submersible was occupied by only 6 people. The Captain and his assistant, two MTF guards with a red hand pattern decorating their visors, and two oddly dressed people. These last two were the least human of the lot, standing out amongst the uniformity of the surrounding vehicle.

 The first one stood taller than anyone else, stooped slightly to fit into the room. Their smile was much too wide, and they wore a long, brown kimono which trailed behind them. Long leather threads hung from the garment, threaded through the many, many teeth that dangled around them. Their long black hair was held back with a set of hair sticks, studded with even more teeth. Every few seconds, a tooth or two would fall from the folds of their kimono and land on the floor. If anyone noticed, they said nothing.

 The second one seemed more human, a man about six foot and bald. He wore a garment that could be described as a cloak of rags, with bones of human and animal origin sewn and clamped on with metal threads. Blue lights glowed faintly beneath his pale skin, and the faint sound of ticking clockwork surrounded him, forming a broken hymn in the echoey room.

 Tags on their clothes indicated them as O5s Seven and One respectively, code names Teeth and Founder. The two exchanged hushed words as the submersible went deeper, until a massive shape came looming out of the darkness. It had the appearance of a massive, mechanical hermit crab, a giant shell several kilometers across attached to its back. The shell glinted with aurora colors, shining brightly in the deep.

 To any onlooker, it would appear as if it was some alien war machine, but to the two O5s who stood inside the submersible, it was just another SCP. 4700 to be exact. The capital and home of the Finnfolk.

 The Finnfolk were a race of thaumotologically advanced aquatic entities that the Foundation had been helping for the past several years. Neither One nor Seven knew enough about the Finnfolk Dilemma, at least not enough as Four, who was on holiday.

 Founder breathed a sigh of relief as their ship docked on the side of the machine, anchoring them to a semi-solid platform. One hated being underwater, but it was a sacrifice he had to make. A green exit sign began to glow above the ship’s hatch as it began to open, letting in the carefully controlled air of SCP-4700.

 “Ready for our turn at these negotiations Founder? We can hope that time hasn’t tarnished your silver tongue.” Founder rolled his eyes at Teeth’s light jibe, preparing his own retort as they stepped out of the hatch. However, before he could respond, they were greeted by a company of Finnfolk. They recognized the leader in passing. Hege, Queen of the Finnfolk. Her scales shimmered gold only slightly dulled by time.

 Both Overseers bowed, and Hege did the same, before waving them to follow her. As she talked with one of her guards, Teeth and Founder chatted together, commenting on and observing the intricate metal structure around them.

 They soon found themselves inside of a meeting hall, the long, wooden table absent of guests. The Overseers sat across from Hege, who clicked her fingers softly. A large, thaumatological projection appeared behind her, images swirling like silt in the water of a delta.

 “Greetings prophet of Hakhama.” She said to the Founder, his eyes widening as the name of his goddess was spoken in the Broken Tongue. A blurry image of a massive woman of iron and bronze cog-work impaling a writhing red serpent filled the misty projection. “And greetings to you, oh Boundary-Maker, Warden of the Seventh Seal.”

 As they spoke to Teeth, the image changed rapidly. Planets and timelines rent apart by gnashing teeth, gods pinned inside great cages of brass and enamel. Seven smiled widely, hand raising to keep the dozens of forming teeth from spilling out of their mouth.

 “I have called both of you here on the topic of my own fears, and whether you will put them to rest or… Give them reason to fester.” She gestured to one of her guards, who came forward with a small sheaf of papers. It was only a dozen or so sheets thick, but it carried an almost ominous aura. “Let’s see here, contained, contained, contained, contained, neutralized, neutralized, contained, contained,  neutralized… Need I go on?”

 The images on the projection changed to cages once again, bars and manacles holding anomalies of all variety.

 “When this is over, when we’re operational and no longer facing potential extinction, what will you do? Contain us, destroy us? Will you lock us away to never see the light of the Orcadian Sun again?” She folded her hands and leaned forward, raising an inquisitive brow. One and Seven looked to one another, and Seven gestured for One to speak first.

 “To answer your question, I shall put them to rest. In the last ten years, the Foundation has been facing a growing, exponential tide of the anomalous. A ΨK-Class “Crimson Skies” Scenario. It has… Required us to adopt a much less radical stance against the anomalous if we are to maintain secrecy. Containment Breaches have decreased by 6% in the past two years with this decision. So no, we shall not attempt to contain you, as long as you make an attempt to maintain secrecy, you’re safe.” He smiled, iron teeth glistening in the hazy light, “We’re not complete fools after all.”

 Seven then stood up, the clack of teeth falling to the floor echoing. Hege noticed that they were Finnfolk teeth, long yet blunt. She shuddered as she thought of whatever time that the deity could’ve collected them.

 “Now, Friends. As we stand here in the guts of this great machine, we must stop to think for a moment. This may be slightly off-topic… But must be said. To put it bluntly, the worlds going to hell. The people in the light are killing each other without the aid of the anomalous, despite its exponential rise. A new doomsday cult shows up every day it seems. And to top it all off…”

 The hazy projection changed, taking the form of burning planets, dead gods, their domains laying shattered around them. Seven seemed even taller than they were before, teeth falling quickly from the mouths that occupied the palms of their hands.

 “We have several hypotheses, but no concrete facts. Gods killed left and right, and Tamlin’s predictions haven’t helped things. There is a cataclysmic threat on the horizon. It looms over us like a mountain looms over two wayfaring travelers, fleeing the home that caused them pain.”

 “If your worries hadn’t inspired you to call for us, we would have eventually called you. For one of the few times in our lives, we truly don’t know what will happen next. Our request is as follows: We would like an official alliance between the Finnfolk and the Foundation. To share knowledge, technology, thaumatology, anything. If either of us are to survive, this appears to be the best course of action Queen Hege.”

 There was silence for several seconds, Hege contemplating Teeth’s words. The only sounds were the gentle clattering of teeth, and the quiet ticking from underneath One’s skin, filling the room. The visors of the two MTF guards were opaque but everyone could feel their eyes surveying the situation from behind the single red right hand. Everything seemed to stop the instant Hege opened her mouth, a single word escaping her lips.

 “Yes.” Teeth smiled, posture relaxing as One’s mechanism’s slowed to a more mellow rhythm. “If the future is as bleak as you say it is, then we both need as much help as we can get. Let us… forge this alliance at the heart of Guð-Bani.” She stood up and motioned for the two O5’s to follow her.

 One stood, adjusting his cloak of rags and bones to sit comfortably on his shoulders. Him and Seven exchanged a look, the kimono-clad overseer motioning for the MTF guards to stay. Hege gave a similar gesture, her Finnfolk guards standing down.

 The overseers followed Hege in a comfortable silence, Seven and One’s conversation conveyed in hand gestures and facial expressions. As they descended into the heart of the Finnfolk war machine, One’s eyes switched from blue to gold, a new lense to fit the darkness of the lower levels.

 “Tell me friends.” Hege said, turning her head slightly to look back at them. “Are you familiar with the customs of our species?” The Overseers glanced at each other before shrugging and turning back to Hege.

 “Four would know, but he’s managed to convince the Ethics Committee to give him a holiday.” Hege cocked her head considering their words before she replied.

 “Given your line of work, I imagine that that would be some astounding feat of persuasion.”

 “You have no Idea.” Seven chuckled and paused a moment before speaking again. “Hey One, remember when he convinced Eight that you and Three were…” They were cut off as One made a high-pitched series of mechanical clicks and whirrs, a series of curses in his mother-tongue.

 “I’m afraid I don’t understand Broken,” Hege said, eyeing One as he muttered several more mechanical sounds. “What did he say?”

 “Oh, it’s nothing, he’s just flustered.” Seven waved their hand, dismissing the question.

 “Back on topic, as is custom, the Finnfolk forge alliances literally. A scale or tooth is taken from each side and embedded in molten bronze. As long as the bronze is solid, the alliance is still active. The only problem is…” She paused, worrying her bottom lip with a fang, “The only problem is that it requires part of every person present. Finnfolk have scales, but with you…”

 “I’ll stop you right there.” Seven said, placing a hand on Hege’s shoulder. “I have more teeth than I know what to do with, and One over here is almost entirely made of metal. We can work something out.” They smiled and plucked a long incisor from their mouth, gripping it in their hand. “Now! Let’s get going. We accomplish nothing by standing here.”

 When they made it to the heart of Guð-Bani, Seven and One were taken aback. Their own sites were beasts of steel and concrete, grand and grey. But the forge at the Center of the Finnfolk capital was in another league of its own.

 Soaring metal beams framed the domed room, converging along the edges of a massive mosaic in the ceiling. It depicted a great, red humanoid being struck in the chest by a bolt of blue light. A massive forge sat in the center of the room, vats of molten metal and tubes of gasses running throughout the room. It was truly like a heart, almost pulsing with light and sound.

 Hege strode to one of the many workbenches that lay, scattered around the room. There, she picked up an intricate mold and a pair of tongs, leading them to a vat of molten metal.

 “Now, we need the pieces.” She picked a long, curved dagger from her side, and bringing it to her arm, deftly cut a small scale from it.

 One extended his hand, and the Finnfolk queen placed the dagger into his palm. He took a deep breath and began to cut at the skin of his arm. Hege visibly blanched as he peeled skin back to reveal the glistening mechanisms beneath. Cords of metal muscle and softly ticking clockwork filled out his arms. Gently, he plucked an auxiliary gear from its position and handed to Hege along with Seven’s tooth.

 “Now, in the heart of Guð-Bani, I, Queen Hege of the Orkney Finnfolk, solemnly build this alliance between The Foundation and the people of Orcadia.” She raised the three pieces above her head and laid them down into the mold. “Until the day this bronze is recast, let this alliance go unbroken.” She began to pour molten bronze from a crucible into the mold, One and Seven looking on.

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 Hege held up the intricate Celtic Knot, the three items held fast by the brazen metal. Seven and One watched as a prayer was whispered from her lips, sealing the alliance. As her whispering voice faded into silence, she turned towards the two Overseers, the bronze held at her side.

 “The Alliance has been forged my friends. You have our resources as we have yours.” Extending her hand, she shook the Overseers’, her solemn face slowly turning into a smile. “I imagine that you both must be on your way. But if you must ever return here, know that you are all welcome here.”

 Seven smiled, their mouth containing only slightly above the normal amount of teeth. “And You are welcome to the Foundation, within reason. Some overzealous level 2 or 3 might try to put a bullet in your head.” One pulled a blue keycard from his pocket, handing to Hege. “This is a Thaumial clearance card. It grants certain anomalous entities the freedom to traverse our sites unhindered. Use it well.” She took it gratefully, whispering her thanks.

 “Now, we should be on our way.” Founder said, and the two Overseers turned and began to walk. Hege looked down at the cast bronze, wondering if the right choice had been made. Shaking her head, she dismissed the idea for another time.

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Do you think this was a good idea One?” Seven asked as they boarded the submersible, followed by the Alpha-One guards. One stood silently, pondering his answer to Seven’s question.

 “I’m not sure if dealings with the anomalous are ever Good ideas, but I think that this was the best thing to do.” A screen popped up on the metal hatch, asking:

 “Does the Black Moon howl?”

 “When Thirteen O5’s Ride the Rising Tides” One said, stepping through the opening door. Seven followed close behind, quiet before they spoke again.

 “Dealings with the Anomalous? A bit hypocritical One. We’re a Machine and a God, helping to lead one of the most powerful organizations in the observable multiverse. Our colleagues are Gods , Anomalies, and whatever the hell Twelve is. Dealings with the Anomalous is a day-to-day activity.”

 One rolled his eyes, motioning for the submersible to begin it’s ascent. Seven merely smiled and patted One on the back, jostling the bones that hung from his cloak. They chatted amicably as the vehicle rose from the dark into the light, One sighing with relief as they breached the surface.

 “Maybe you’re right Seven. I… I don’t know. I suppose that the only thing we can do is prepare. I just hope that what we’re doing is the right thing.” Seven nodded as the hatch opened, the bright sunlight illuminating them as they stepped outside.

Mixed Norse and Scottish folklore

The folklore of Orkney and Shetland reflects the mixed origins of the Northern Islanders. In the 9th century, the Isles were settled by Norwegians, who either replaced the original Celtic inhabitants or blended with them (the jury is still out). These Norwegians created a Norse society which remained in the islands long after they were granted to the King of Scots in 1468 and 1469.  The insular Norse language, called Norn, survived until at least the mid-18thcentury. It was completely replaced by a heavily Scandinavianised form of the Scots language, which was brought to the Isles by Scottish settlers, who had already arrived in large numbers by the end of the 16th century. The mixed society developed a mixed folklore with both Norse and Scottish elements.

Alan Bruford an acknowledged expert on the folk tales of Shetland, has shown that, when it comes to fairy-legend types, the Scottish contribution to Shetland cultural heritage is greater than the Norse. For example, although the fairies are usually called trows, which comes from the Norse word troll, the stories about them are mainly Scottish legend types, often strikingly similar to stories from Gaelic tradition, despite the often heard refrain in Shetland that Gaelic culture is alien to the Isles.

On the other hand, when it comes to supernatural beings, there is a strong inheritance from Norse. Both land and sea were believed to be inhabited by such beings and these have mainly Norse names. For example, there are the aforementioned trows. There are also njuggles (water horses from the Norse nykkr) and grϋlies (ogresses who live in holes and bugbears who bide in coal bunkers from the Norse grýla).

Magical Finns in Scandinavian Tradition

We will see that the Finns, as an uncanny, supernatural people, are another survival of Norse cultural heritage, although they have been transformed somewhat in the island setting. However, before I delve into the stories about the Finns in Orkney and Shetland, I’d like to provide some background by looking at the traditions surrounding the Finns in Scandinavia.

It is important to point out that in the folklore of both Sweden and Norway, the aforementioned Finns are actually the Sámi or Lapps, the Finno-Ugric speaking indigenous population of Northern Scandinavia, rather than the inhabitants of modern Finland. The word Finni or Finnr in Old Norse glossed both Sámi and Finn, and Finn still means Sámi or Lapp in Norwegian dialects today.

It begins in late 17th century Scotland where mysterious reports were recorded of bizarre visitors appearing offshore in strange boats. Rev. James Wallace, Minister of Kirkwall, Orkney, wrote about it in 1688 in his description of the Isles of Orkney:

“Sometime about this country are seen these men which are called Finnmen; In the year 1682 one was seen sometime sailing, sometime Rowing up and down in his little boat at the south end of the Isle of Eda, most of the people of the Isle flocked to see him, and when they adventured to put out a boat with men to see if they could apprehend him, he presently fled away most swiftly: And in the year 1684, another was seen from Westray, and for a while after they got few or no fishes; for they have this remark here, that these Finnmen drive away the fishes from the place to which they come.”

On at least one occasion, one of these visitors made landfall. He was, “all over hairy, and spoke a language which no person there could interpret. He lived but three days, although all possible care was taken to recover him.”

To this day, nobody knows for sure where he or his fellow travellers came from. Different theories abound. Perhaps they were fishermen from Finland? Or maybe they were indigenous prisoners escaped from ships returning from the New World?