The Gutes or the Gotlanders (in Swedish gutar) are the population of the island of Gotland. The ethnonym is related to that of the Goths (Gutans), and both names were originally Proto-Germanic *Gutaniz. Their language is called Gutnish (gutniska).
The oldest history of the Gutes is retold in the Gutasaga. According to legend they descended from a man named Þjelvar who was the first to discover Gotland. Þjelvar had a son named Hafþi who wedded a fair maiden named Hvitastjerna. These two were the first to settle on Gotland. Hafþi and Hvitastjerna later had three children, Guti, Graipr and Gunfjaun. After the death of their parents, the brothers divided Gotland into three parts and each took one, but Guti remained the highest chieftain and gave his name to the land and its people.
In Modern Swedish language, there are two words for the inhabitants on Gotland: gotlänning (Gotlander) and gute. All inhabitants of Gotland, regardless of their ethnicity, are gotlänning (pl. gotlänningar -Gotlandians) but one is called gute (pl. gutar - Gutes) if one is of native descent.
Bastards of madness
Call out this prayer of vengeance
Speaking to enemies through these wounds of redemption
Tearing out their eyes with horror
Behold this chosen new devise
As the silence pleads this forgiveness
A senseless begging for absolution
Upon this entrance into oblivion
This fallen angel of defiance, destitute to isolation
Hold tight to liberation, in the form of reprisal
Project of this restored frame, in these pain filled alterations
This new threat of changing life restless in this completion
Powerless you crawl like pigs
Soon to be slaughtered
Suckling to a faith that you avidly hoped would save you all
These offerings will bring us our justice.
For these years of diluted lies
The answers to our freedom
The answer to the death of gods
These hands held into the sky so the dark
Winds can taste the blood of murder
As the blackest hearts obey thoughts of evil
Deathlorn rites, endure the lust for revenge
Surrender the state of embracement and release
This life from the dark interiors
Discomfort of this assisted torment is given in these regards
A scourge of awakening
Prisoned in the rites of blood
Bestowed with ancient plagues, we will forge a disease
Of rape upon your ideals
Within this lifeblood we will find the truths as blades
Slice open their necks
The answers to our freedom
The answer to the death of gods
Once reconstructed the swarm will digest
The souls of this imperfection
Sterilizing faith bringer has discharged
This assembly of this damnation
Burden me with your weak
Curse me with your sick
In blood filled walls I lie confined