COMMUNITY - FORUMS - GENERAL DISCUSSION
[Event] Folk lore Hero.

Brought to you by the Free Mann Tavern (NA-E)

Monthly Event! (09/04/2019)-(10/04/2019) 23:59EST Time.

[Event] Folk Lore hero.

Much like every culture,tribe, or region in the world history at some point in time was passed down through the generations through a method of story-telling ussually involving folk heroes as a main point. Whether to impart wisdom teaching a life long lesson through its tale or one made for fun. Stories worldwide have a great impact on people ,and for this event telling the story of your tribe or region of a folk hero or tradition could net you some sweet prizes!

The goal for this event is simple. Tell a story that you would like to pass down to your race,region,biome that could either teach a lesson or just to have fun. Whether you include a folk hero who gallantly saves the day or one whose many mistakes could be learned from or if you have a direction in mind thats completely different the choice is yours to decide.

(Ex: of Folk hero ideas whether tragic or heroic) [The waerd who would not share. The kypiq meat eater or the brudvir drunkard.]

Tavern staff will judge each story blind on who the forum poster is ,and just read the content. Stories will be judged based on creativity , Impact, and use-ability within Coe! Three stories submitted will recieve great prizes for there efforts ,and every participant will recieve multiple lost vault items for participation!

Prizes

First prize: Trading post kit

Second prize: Elyrian package or (40 $ in credit)

Third prize: 20 $ Elyrian Gift card.

Rules

🍷 One entry per player/ per account

🍷 Submissions can be any length

🍷 All kingdoms welcome to join in on the fun

🍷 Dont plagarize

With that being said I cant wait to see how peoples folk hero stories turn out!

Always in service to Fun events

-The Free-Mann Tavern


9/10/2019 7:26:37 PM #1

The sad tale of wee Al(inspiration is humpty dumpty)

Oh let me tell you a wee tale of even weer Neran, He wasn't a Kypiq, he wasn't a Hrothi, and everything would scare em. His name was even shorter! The people call him Al! And because he was so short, he shan't find a gal!

One day Al was sick, tired of being passed up, He went to the tavern and started filling his cup. He drank one or two, or maybe couple more, He drank too much, he felt so sick, he couldn't find the door.

The barkeep didn't like em, so he kicked him on the street, And poor wee Al could do nothing, but stand up on his feet. He went to the woods, to take a wee piss, and think about all the maids that he would like to kiss.

Once he was done, he saw a couple sticks, And wee Al thought that they would help for him to get some chicks. He took the stiks home, and climbed right on top, He put on his long coat, and his smile could not stop.

Wee Al was wee no more, so he went on a walk, He found some women, stopped them there, and asked for a talk. The women were impressed, by his new found stature, but before he spoke, the stick cracked, and Als skull fractured.

The women saw him fall, and they gasped with fright, Because wee Al bled too much, and was dead on sight. And that's the tale of wee Al, take it as you will, If you want to see how wee Al was, his grave is by the mill.


Лазар

9/11/2019 1:26:47 AM #2

The tale of Berkey and the pirates.

In the southwest region of Thearyn there lived in a small seaside hamlet a kypiq by the name of Berkey. Berkey was a farmer’s son, not much for adventure, he dreamed of inheriting the family farm and in turn leaving it to his sons. Berkey cared only for a simple life, the woes of far off places scarcely concerned him, even bards’ tales of great heroes held no place in his dreams, he found it all quite impractical. Berkey would spend his days tilling the fields, and looking after the herds, day in and day out. Then the pirates came. They rode ashore from a far-off land demanding payment for protection. The leaders of the Hamlet agreed, believing the lies the Pirates told them. They came every year, demanding a percent of the harvest and then disappearing again till the next one. They ensured the people that they were off fighting off those who would invade and raid the small hamlet, defenseless as it was. Over the years this took its toll on the hamlet, reserves began to run low, and the Pirates were taking more every year. As a result, it became harder for the farmers to keep up with the increasing demands, the land was over used and yields were waning. The heads of houses met one night to discuss what to do. The sky was overcast with a slight drizzle of rain, a large fire lit up the center of town casting shadows about. Many people were shouting… “We should just tell them we can’t afford this anymore!” Yelled a Neran man near the fire. “They can’t expect us to continue this and expect to get anything from it, we will all starve, there’s nothing in it for them.” And Elder Neran man stepped forward challenging the suggestion, “I have seen this before, and I warned you all when they first came. They will never stop. Our survival is not a concern to them. If we die, they will move on to the next town. They will leech of the hard work of others until someone stops them. I know this is foolhardy for someone frail as me to suggest… but I say we fight these bandits of the sea.”

From the looks on the faces of those present, the thought had crossed everyone’s mind. The younger Neran laughed, “Leave it to the old man to suggest something that will get us all killed.” He turned to look at the older mann and said, “You are at the end of your life, don’t throw away the rest of ours because you don’t care anymore, you old fool!” As the crowd returned to unintelligible shouting and bickering, sitting on a bucket paying more attention to something other then his crops then ever was Berkey. His heart ached for his failing farm, and he had begun plans to pack up and move away, knowing that chances were a Kypiq on his own would likely die in the wilderness. He watched as the Neran towered over the rest of the people who were mostly like him, kypiq. “This is why we are so weak…” He thought to himself. The Neran had been the defacto leaders for generations. They were bigger and until now their skills in dealing with outsiders didn’t matter. They did now. As he listened to the old man call to fight for their homes and livelihood. He began to get flash backs of his father, remembering the time he stood up to a wealthy Neran who demanded the farm be sold to him. The time his father took out one of his inventions to scare off a cougar from the farm. It was a silly thing they used to play with as kids, with a small crank and some rocks the device would hit the rocks on each other making a wave of clattering that they would pretend was music or the sounds of battle. That’s when a spark was lit in the little kypiqs mind. He had an idea, was it good? Maybe not, but he wasn’t about to lose everything his father left him. Where they lived, died and now where they will fight.
It was a few months till the Pirates would return, and the Neran seem to have convinced everyone to continue paying. Nothing a little Hermit Kypiq would say was going to change that. So, he began work.

Over time he began to build larger versions of the old toy, with a few other ideas to enhance the effect. Berkey began needing to sell off house items, animals, even some land to pay for the materials. He constructed and tinkered in secret, no one could know what he was doing everything depended on it. After two months the little kypiq just disappeared. The children who visited to pet his cat found no one home. Not many noticed Berkeys absence, and those that did assumed he choose to try his luck in new lands.

The Pirates returned on schedule, the sun was on the horizon twilight was setting in. They jumped off their boats and walked into town looking about laughing and drinking. The towns people knew what to do and began loading supplies. The Pirates didn’t seem to care to talk to anyone anymore. They sat by waiting for the work to be done. Soon the crowd of people began to chatter from the far side of town, the leader of the pirates could see the crowd slowly parting, the part coming closer to where the supplies were being gathered. As the towns people separated, there stood a lone kypiq, dressed in hunting gear, wielding a sword and pointing it at the pirates and saying, “Your time here is at an end plunderer. I will not allow you to continue to steal from these people and drain them of their homes and lives!” The Pirates laughed at what was to them the funniest sight they had ever seen. The leader, a tall Neran mann looked at the kypiq and retorted, “You? Pipsqueak? And what do you think you’re going to do to us?” Berkey smiled and pointed to the forest, “Oh I am just a messenger, these are the words of the local baron, Narrax Fornsbran, he is here to take care of you for us.” Then in the forest just outside of town lights began to appear, first one, then ten, then thirty. The sound of metal clanging, and drums beating revealed a great force just outside of town. The kypiq turned toward the Pirates and said, “Of course the baron is willing to hold back his forces if you leave this place and never return.”

The Pirates faces were ghost white, they couldn’t take their eyes off the forest. The lights kept appearing showing hundreds of torches now. They had no choice, they shouted in fear, boarding their boat and promising they would never come back. The people began to cheer, throwing rocks and mud at the pirates as they left. Berkey was swarmed by the people all asking questions and raising him into the air, at first wondering around the town, but ending up at the local tavern. He was showered with drinks and gifts. Everyone was singing his praises, until someone shouted, “What about the baron’s army? Shouldn’t we thank them as well?” The little Kypiq smiled bigger then he ever had in his life and replied, “Well you can, but I don’t think they are gonna say much.”

He explained to the towns people his father’s invention and his improvements, with some time, he constructed the fake army in the forest. The people were amazed that he was able to build so much by himself. In truth Berkey found a love in building his little ruse. They continued the celebrations through the night, singing and dancing and having little Berkey reenact his challenge of the Pirates for the children over and over. Almost the whole town was past out in the tavern the following morning, all except for Berkey.

Years later: Sitting on his porch looking out over his fields, the barley swaying in the wind, Berkey played with a little contraption made of wood and bone. Sitting with him, his wife and children listened to him play music with it and spinning a tale of a little kypiq who saved the land from evil pirates. “And they built him a statue in the town square, right father?” Asked the littlest one, who had not yet realized the truth of the story. Older and beginning to wrinkle now, Berkey looked down and said, “Yes, indeed little one, and he lived happily ever after.”


Upvoting and downvoting indiscriminately

9/11/2019 2:05:14 AM #3

The First Peirce

As a member of the Peirce family, I feel it's about time I tell the story of Franklin Peirce first of his name and how he achieved his title. A long time ago before the 5 kingdoms, we know and love today (NA-E), there were many tribes and smaller regions with intermittent wars and battles.

Franklin Peirce was in a very mountainous area with a majority Brudvir population as one of the only Naran he was outcasted for being smaller and weaker than most in his area. Franklin was not a fighter, in fact, he was a tailer sewing together clothes and working with different cloths more often then wielding a weapon.

That was when telling of raiders coming from the south reached Peirce's ears they had with them a stripped man tall and strong wielding a war pick of a pteroguin skull his weapon was specially made from Jonoa culture and local wildlife.

Peirce's weapon was also custom made, a long needle that had a cutlass's handle which reminded him of his profession. A rapier that was very rare around in his region and was pasted down from his Naran family line.

As the sound of raiders came ever closer Peirce grabbed his weapon and was prepared to defend his home with his life. as the raiders and defenders clash with great yelling of pride, anger, and pain. Peirce parried blows and defended himself when a large shadow covered him. He dodged out of the way just in time as the pick smacked into the dirt where Peirce was. Peirce replied this heavy blow with a silent thrust, the rapier hit its mark. Blood sputters forth as the raiders stop fighting and started to retreat knowing their strong leader was dead. From that point on his name would be Peirce for the action he took to save the village.


9/11/2019 2:34:59 PM #4

The Hunter of Greed.

In the Taiga of the north, there was a hunter named Hesdø. He was one of the best hunters in the region, or so he liked to claim. He was always bragging to his kinsmen about how he bagged the largest elk, or snared the fattest rabbit. He would brag and brag much to the ire of all, after some time, he earned the name Grådig Jeger or the greedy hunter from his kinsmen. But this man took it as a sign of pride, he felt that because of his desire he would always go for the biggest game to help support his village.

Time grew on and Grådig Jeger was preparing for Winterswatch, knowing that he must bring in the largest prey to prove out of all of his kin he was the most connected to Ylva. So, he set out on his trip, making his way into the forest towards the rivers where he knew the animals would gather. He sat in wait, watching, his bow in his right hand, arrow in left resting on the draw string.

Eventually he saw his prey, a lone Ursaphant, something that could only be bagged as a group because of its size alone. “This is mine, this is for Ylva.” He whispered to himself as he moved knocking the bow and taking aim right at the creatures’ neck. Silence filled the air as all one could hear was the running of water, the Ursaphant paused its head looking upwards towards the sky.

Twang.

The arrow fired and hit square on, moving quickly Grådig Jeger knocked his next arrow getting ready to fire again as he moved out into the open, but he never got the chance to fire as he heard a screech, the sound of a Pteroguin, as the last things he saw was its open maw going straight for his own neck.

9/12/2019 4:03:39 AM #5

The Mann and The Lynx

========================================================

"Oh, my little ones...So much energy this morning." The Teacher clucked as she tried to get the class settled. "Would a story help?"

"Story!, Story!" the children started to chant.

"But which one?" she asked, already knowing the answer.

"Lynx! Lynx! Lynx!"

"Alright then, as soon as you are settled."

As a hush fell over the room, she began....

once A Very Long Time Ago There was a Mann.

He was a Mann like most other Menn.

Except he liked to do somethings that a Mann shouldn't do.

He liked to go off alone and wander the land by himself.

The people would tell him no, but he wouldn't listen.

One day when he wandered out alone he came across a Lynx.

The Lynx looked at the Mann and smiled at him.

"Why are you all alone little Mann." The Lynx asked him a questioning eye. "Where are your people?"

"I don't need anyone else," The Mann said proudly. "A Mann is smart and strong and has nothing to fear."

"A single man has much to fear." replied The Lynx, licking his lips. "What would happen to you if I attacked?."

"I would just run away." The Mann replied. "I am faster and you can not catch me."

"Is that so?" The Lynx asked. "If that is true, then you should start right now."

"What?" the Mann asked.

"I said RUN"

And so The Mann ran.

And The Lynx ran after him.

Long and hard and fast they both ran.

Over the rocks and across the sand.

All of the day and almost into the night.

Until The Mann looked back to see where The Lynx was.

That was when the Mann stumbled.

And that was when The Mann fell.

Now at the bottom of deep hole, he turned back to face The Lynx.

"Little Mann, " The Lynx looked down at him from the edge of the hole. "What will you do now that you are down in that hole? You cannot run from me now."

The Mann looked up in despair.

"If you let me climb out of this hole." The Mann said. "We can begin our chase again."

"Go ahead and climb back out." The Lynx said. "If you can."

The Mann tried and tried.

But he could not get out of the hole.

"If only you had a rope." The Lynx replied as the sun began to set. "You could toss it to me and I could pull you out."

"I have a rope" the Mann said

And so he tossed it out of the pit to The Lynx.

"It's too bad for you that I am a Lynx and not a Mann. Because I have no hands to grab your rope to pull you out."

The Mann looked very sad.

"What about your mouth?" he then asked. "Could you put it in your mouth and pull me out?"

The Lynx thought about it.

"I'm afraid I can't" he then said. "I would like to start our chase again. But you are much to big and heavy for me. If I tried, you would just pull me into the pit with you and then we would both be trapped."

So then The Mann sat down to think.

And he thought and thought.

All through the night he thought.

And as the sun began to rise then next morning he addressed The Lynx.

"Good morning Lynx"

"Good morning Mann. I see you are still in your hole."

"Yes I am. But I think I may know how to fix that now."

"What is your idea Mann."

"I think if you went and got another Mann, he could then pull me up with the rope, right?

"Yes" The Lynx replied. "That should work."

"Would you go get another Mann so we can begin our chase again?"

"I will" said The Lynx.

And so he did.

And after The Lynx came back with the second Mann they pulled the first Mann out.

And The Mann and the Lynx are still chasing each other to this day.

But NO Mann ever goes outside of the village anymore without another Mann, because no matter how fast and strong a Mann is, no one Mann can do what two can.

Looking down, the Teacher now saw the children were already curled up in little pairs.

And some were even sleeping.

Just like they always were by the end of this story.

=========================================================

(p.s. This is a Waerd fable for community that is also played out as a children's game where the young Waerd act out the parts of The Mann and The Lynx. The children run and jump and chase each other until they "fall" into the pit and have to get pulled out by another child.)

(p.p.s. The inspiration for The Lynx is the endangered Iberian Lynx..)


We Are The Many... We Are The One... We Are THE WAERD !!!

9/13/2019 5:15:28 AM #6

The Founding of Raberre's Relief

In the fields of the north west, within the lower montane forests, the men of a small village were driving their cattle to field. It was summer in Elyria. The birds sang in the scattered trees that surrounded the fields, hunting insects that chirruped from their hidden sanctums in earth and wood. The sky bore no sign of rain this day, as sunlight cut through the atmosphere like an arrow, striking the ground, and everything on it, with its warmth. A soft wind blew from the south east, drawing with it the humidity of the nearby lake. Aided by several dogs, which nipped at the heels of errant beasts, and circled the herd in lopping strides, the men quickly brought the cattle to a lush spot bordering the the forest to the east of their village, near a large lake.

The men were lightly armed with spears, pitchforks, and axes. Wolves roamed these lands, and a man was not likely to bite harder than they, but with a proper tool, one might survive, if with a few scars. The men took in the area, scanning the treeline for any sign of trouble, and after confirming the relative peace of the area, let their charges roam. Some sat in the lush grass as the beasts chewed around them, leaving nothing but the cushioning blades of vegetation beneath the men. Others fidgeted with their arms, or played with the dogs which frolicked through the short, dense green that spanned the men's eyesight. One stood out, a mann known locally as "Raberre".

Raberre was a large Neran man. A leader not only in mind, but in form. Framed like a stone home, he was was easily 2 to 3 inches taller than his fellows. His muscles were coiled tightly to his skeleton like a large snake suffocating its prey, and bulged slightly beneath his tanned skin, toned by years of time spent moving stubborn animals, and even more stubborn earth.

He was the leader of these menn, and bore the title of village elder, even being a mann of only 40. This area was lightly settled, and those who were strong enough to live without the comforts of civilization often rose to such a position. His arms and face showed the scars of this burden, as did his shaved head and large beard. A person unfamiliar with him may have confused him for a Brudvir, far from home.

Raberre slowly snatched a long blade of grass before it was eaten, and contemplated it. A drop of dew clung to the broad of it, and in the pliable and dark green blade, the health of the land was heralded. He raised the grass to his bearded face, and blew on the edge as he held it in place. A high whistle issued forth, and he enjoyed the jaunty whine it played with so little effort. His father had taught him that trick, and it was always a fun distraction, yet another gift this land had given him.

Yet, there was no relaxation in this mann's form. His muscles were as a drawn bow string, and his face bore no smile, only a slight grimace. These were troubled times. In recent months, a group of brigands had entered the area, and this was what held his thoughts. They had seized on the relatively unsettled area as a haven from the law and restriction of more populous area, fancying themselves the lords of this territory, as they were strong, and as such, made the rules. Several young women had been taken from the varying villages, and no shortage of theft and highway robbery had been noted on the trails of the land.

As Raberre thought on these issues, a glint of metal caught his eye from the south west. As he peered across the receding sea of green and past the cattle, he bore witness to what appeared to be a young woman. She was certainly a sight, with fiery hair so long it reached the back of her knees, and a large braid bordering the right side of a serious face. That face knew conflict, Raberre could tell. Her jaw was set, her eyes alert, regarding the men and their beasts. She wore impressive armor, though Raberre was not a military man, and neither were his peers. It clanked heavily, as did that of her hangers on, who trailed behind her like holy men following the steps of their prophet. Unexpectedly though, the touch of humannity was to be found in this woman, as she knelt to regard a herding dog which found interest in this strange procession. She gently stroked the canine's head, and for a short period, a fine smile could be seen, before she was on her path again.

A woman such as this was certainly not common, and after conferring with his men, Raberre's suspicions were confirmed. This was the southern exile, Sancta. A true upstart, the lords of the south had made clear. A peasant who demanded much, a parasite that ate at the table of others by virtue of the glory of others. This was all hearsay of course, and Raberre was a man of the soil, not of the courts. Yet her bearing spoke much of experience, and among the men that gazed, not one could help but question the statement that she had not earned her glory. Word had it that she made for the north, to find refuge with some ally there.

The men of both parties eyed each other with some curiosity as the travelers grew near, but no words were spoken, only nods given between two groups who were consumed with their own business. Shortly after, the travelers had made their way to the north, where the path entered a small patch of forest. The nearby land sloped upwards, and while the path twisted up the hillside, the group would like be visible when they had come to the north edge of the forest along the dirt road.

The menn of the village continued their relaxed vigil over the herd of large beasts that lazily wandered the area, stomachs laden with the vegetation they had pilfered from the now semibarren surroundings. As the cattle slowed their eating, and the men called back their dogs from play, Raberre cast his brown eyes back towards the patch of trees that the strangers had entered. Though time passed strangely for a mann lost in the nature of the area and the warmth of a fine day, he was certain that they should have been through by now. No silver shine had called the menn's attention as they exited, and this, Raberre reasoned, was enough oddity to warrant investigation.

Calling together the menn under his charge, he instructed the younger to remain with the cattle, lest their lose valuable beasts to a lapse in attention. With the older herders behind him and several dogs close to their sides, the men quickly stole through the grass towards the dense thickets and trees. They entered the forest low, with tools and weapons held firmly, and peered about. With some time, they came upon the issue.

A rough conference was being held on the path a moderate distance into the trees, between two very opposed sides, as Raberre's menn approached quietly through the bushes that surrounded the trail, trying to ascertain the current disposition of the opposing sides. Nearest to the hidden observers stood the upstart swordmaiden and her followers, and north of them and blocking the trail, stood a semi circle of rough looking vagabonds. These were the so called lords of the area, ruffians of all tribes.

The tension clearly visible in their stances and faces spoke of the situation clearly. A pack of hungry scavengers had found outnumbered prey weary from travel, and had figured them as easy to set upon. No action had been taken yet, likely due to the bandit troops preference to threaten first, Raberre observed. As Raberre peered from the bushes, a large Brudvir walked towards the woman's group with a swagger belonging to one of solid standing and spoke aloud for all to hear while making crude gestures. This one was a clear leader. His words were not audible to the group still obscured in the foliage, but their vulgarity was obvious.

Laughter rang out from the highwaymenn, raucous and unrestrained, as the Brudvir hulk finished his speech, now standing toe to toe and a head above the scarlet haired valkyrie. He grinned a wolfish grin as he whispered something towards her stony face, and cast his gaze down the line of her followers that had fanned to her left and right. As he turned his head as he shifted his vision from one end to another, he made it back to the woman before the back of her clenched fist hammered into the side of his head, staggering the behemoth of a mann, who wobbled back a few steps, shaking his head like a flea bitten hound.

The ragged bandits quickly drew ill cared for weapons, likely looted from past victims, as their chief recovered his footing and bore his teeth in a grin yet again, though this grin was decidedly different. This one was far more predatory. The armored group quickly followed their leader in widening their stances as their harassers drew close, semi circle condensing to a more solid line to wash over and break the outnumbered defenders.

In the cover of the dense undergrowth, Raberre's menn gestured quickly to one another and whispered with quick suggestions as the clash of metal rang out. On the path, the lines had met. Crude weapon hammered loudly on the more well equipped of the parties as the woman in the center kept the enemy at bay with a long spear, stabbing with quick thrusts as she held her ground with a solid stance. She was certainly quick, even in her armor, yet she could not duck even swing, nor parry even thrust that came toward her from the milling mass of hungry menn that even now set upon her contingent.

Several men had been cut, or simply hammered down now, and though both sides had suffered losses in the first minutes of battle, the knightly procession was showing its lack of mannpower. The bandits had backed off slightly, licking wounds and enjoying their numerical superiority, casting cruel jibes towards their harried prey as they encircled those that remained.

Rabarre was no hero. No military time had left its mark on him, only a harsh yet fair life had scarred him. He knew little of higher affairs in the land. This was not his fight. He could live as easily as before if he simply crept away. However the teachings of the Vitori that sometimes visited his village throughout his life came to him, and it spoke thusly. The time for Justice to show itself was nigh, and the time for Patience was over.

As the large Brudvir mann came around to show his back to where the hidden group lay, Raberre dug his hands and feet into the moist earth, and with a bellow like an angered bear, propelled himself from concealment. Leaving his fellows scrambling in his wake to match his fervor, he barreled forward, broad shoulders leveled as he flew across the path, launching himself into the stomach of the bandit leader as his quarry turned to see the source of the ruckus that had suddenly sprang up.

As their forms met, Raberre's legs strained to lift the weight put on them as he speared into the Brudvir's massive bulk, carrying them both into the dirt. The element of surprise been spent, but had bought time for his men to engage the nearest vagabonds, and the melee was renewed as the exhausted defenders lent themselves to the aid of their unlikely saviors. Tools and weaponry flashed all around as wild arcs were cut into the opposing forces.

Raberre grappled with the large beast of a mann beneath him, striking downwards with clenched fists and heavy elbows as he sought to subdue his enemy. The Brudvir in turn hammered upwards with fists as large and solid as granite paving stones, striking Raberre in the chest and face as the two rolled and struggled in the dirt of the path. As Raberre struck downwards again, the Brudvir caught his wrist, and wrenching it down, bit deeply into his right forearm. Raberre loosed a pained yowl as the sharp canines scraped bone, and dug his left thumb into his opponent's eye. Before his grip tightened, he was struck sharply over the head from behind. Dazed, Raberre felt himself thrown back by a sharp kick to the stomach as the Brudvir capitalized on his luck.

As the large Neran rolled over onto his hands and knees, he retched into the soil with the force of the blow and struggled to right his senses. The beaten wolfmann slowly rose to his feet, wiping the soil from his form as he assessed himself. Seeing his prey before him, and cocksure in his presumed victory, the bandit chief began his slow approach towards the Neran mann who knelt on hand and knee before him, face to the earth below him. Then he heard a sharp whistle.

As the Brudvir realized the whistle came from his target, a large dog broke from the bushes in a dead sprint. Before his reaction could save him, the angry beast ran up the broad surface of Raberre's back, and with hind legs braced on his bull-like shoulders, launched itself into the Brudvir, latching sharp teeth into his lower jaw and upper neck. Other canines raced out behind it to begin their assault on the surviving bandits who aggrieved their masters.

With a long roar, Raberre sprang forward again to where the Brudvir wildly struggled with the large hound hanging from him, and with the last strength left in his form, wrapped his arms around the larger mann's hips from behind. The hound released the bite it held as Raberre swung the man in a wild circle before hoisting him as high as he could, and then slammed himself backwards, driving the bandit leader's skull into the ground with all the force of Haven's split from Elyria. A loud, wet crunch heralded the splintering of the vertebrae below that skull, and all who remained standing turned to face the noise.

A beaten Neran extracted himself from the ruined form of his opponent with a growl, bloodied and ragged. The remaining bandits, seeing this revenant of a mann leaving their strongest in a broken heap, cried out as one, and ran for the woods, leaving their dead and dying to bleed to death as they scrambled to survive. Rabarre saw this, then he fell to his knees with the weakness that came to him as adrenaline faded, and his remaining men rushed to support him. With his men holding him, he bade the survivors to follow.

As the bloody survivors limed into the village, wives and children rushed to their aid, as shouts of alarm rang out from the homes and streets at the sight of their men. The younger cattle-herds put the cows away, and those who had been in the battle sought aid for their wounds. Raberre called for a fine cow to be brought as he conferred with the remaining knights who were tending to their own wounded and dead. When it was brought, he spoke with the voice of authority proven on pain of death. This victory was truly a gift from the Virtues, and demanded celebration.

A shout of agreement went up, and a bonfire built as he led the cow to the center of the village. With words of thanks, he drew a knife across the beasts wide neck, and comforting the beast in its death throes, declared for all to hear, the story of what transpired. As the beast was hauled away to be prepared for the fire, he sought the wild haired woman who led her people through the fight. He found her tending to her men, preparing already for travel ahead. Raberre inquired as to her purpose, and hearing of her intent to take these lands for the betterment of the common mann, knelt as he had heard was proper, to ask her to accept his support and that of the willing, at least in these lands, and such was agreed. That he would be raised to a high position on such a day that she assumed the position above that, and that he would lead his own men, a unit named Raberre's Relief, and he demanded that he wished the land too to be named after them and their deed. So it would be, in time, that the name of both was the same, and the village where he ruled wisely, worked diligently, rested in his old age, and died, would come to be known as Raberre's Rest.

END


Count of Raberre's Rest

9/13/2019 7:31:47 AM #7

Forest Friends

“Gather ‘round children, to hear the tale of the Kypiq who put aside our age old differences to get along with a Janoa of the tropics.” The elderly Kypiq woman, a Thorn Guardian of the Forest, smiles at the gathering of youngsters. “Our tale begins with a young Kypiq boy, much like some of you.”

~~~~~

Oqui was a rather rambunctious child, even for a Kypiq. His curiosity knew no bounds, and he often traveled far from his home village in the treetops. Most Kypiq would be aghast to venture so low to the forest floor, but not Oqui.

The bright eyed boy spent many a day venturing down into the dark and dangerous depths of the forest. To where predators roamed, and thick roots created a tangled web of nooks and crannies for the smaller fauna to hide in.

He kept himself safe from the predators by using his wits, like any good Kypiq should. He smeared berries over his face and body to cover his scent and created false trails for any beast trying to follow him.

But even Oqui knew he should never set foot on the actual forest floor. The ground slithers with hidden beasts; snakes that could gobble an adult whole and sharp bushes that scratch and poison the unaware.

Within the trees, he would spend hours each day, sitting and watching. Observing.

Over time, Oqui learnt to identify and understand the animals of the forest on a level beyond even the Spirt Guardian of the Forest.

But one day, he saw something unusual in the forest.

Tangled on a branch just a foot above the ground, a scrap of cloth dangled in the weak breeze.

He knew it was dangerous to go so low, but his curiosity was screaming at him to get closer. So, as silent as a mouse, he climbed his way down, and snatched up the scrap of cloth. The brown fabric was not like anything he has seen before, because this piece of cloth, was made from an animal hide.

Then, as he looked down, he spotted footprints in the leaf litter. A trail.

With a wide grin, he swung through the trees, following the curious trail. The footprints weren’t of any animal he had seen before and were far too big to be from a Kypiq.

Soon, he heard sounds up ahead. The crushing of leaves and snapping of branches mixed with the roar of a forest beast.

Hurrying along, Oqui climbed higher, until he came to a stop on the perfect branch to perch over the sight below.

One of the other Mann races, wielding a spear, circled the forest floor in a tiny clearing as a Canis Rabbit snarled. The stranger was no match for the rabid beast, as the rabbit pounced, and slashed out, sinking it’s claws deep into the stranger’s side.

A high pitched scream escaped them, but even as they were wounded, they struck out, landing a blow on the Canis Rabbit. The spear embedded in the Rabbit’s side, it recoiled back, pulling the weapon out of the stranger’s hand and snapping it against a tree trunk as the stranger fell back, staring up at the wide maw of the beast.

Oqui was shocked, he couldn’t understand why anyone would attack a forest animal, but at the same time, he couldn’t sit by and watch the stranger be killed.

Using the knowledge of the forest animals he spent so long observing, he let out a loud cry, mimicking an even more dangerous predator.

Hearing the howl, the Rabbit turned and ran, leaving the stranger alone. He would have left it there, but the stranger was injured, so, despite all his teachings, Oqui descended down, and for the first time in his life, set foot on the first floor before the stranger nearly twice his height.

“You…” A female voice mumbled in an odd language. “You saved me.”

Oqui’s large eyes grew wide in surprise, now that he was closer, he could see the stranger was a Janoa female. He turned and ran, but not to flee. She was hurt, but he was certain he could help, using the plants of the forest. He quickly returned, and she watched as he made a salve and leaf patches to treat her wounds.

Even though the two could not understand each other’s words, the Janoa and Kypiq recognised the need and giving of help.

This was the first time a Kypiq had ever given aid to a Janoa despite harming a forest animal, but it was not a deed that would go unnoticed.

The young Janoa, saved by the Kypiq boy, returned home to the tropics without the trophy she searched for during her Hunt, but with something even more valuable.

The unlikeliest of friends.


9/14/2019 5:29:40 PM #8

The Pirate Queen

There is a Legend in the wetlands and the jungles. They tell of a people, almost as short as the Kypiq, tanned and wide-eyed. It is said that they live their entire lives on boats, learning to sail from a very young age. These Legends come from a time immemorial, when that people nearly brought the south to its knees.

They had been skilled and fearsome raiders.

The Mydarri, as they are now called, had once faced a cataclysmic storm. Their people were scattered, flung across the far reaches of the ocean. Survivors were soon met with land: more land then they had ever seen. That land had other menn, and more importantly, more food than they had seen in the last few months. They soon turned to forcefully stealing food and resources, destroying seaside hamlets and villages and even going up waterways to siege down walled towns.

The Mydarri became so used to this new lifestyle that they simply kept raiding. New tactics were devised, and soon they started to contend with local authorities who were determined to stop their destruction. The Mydarri, who had been disorganized at first, soon formed warbands under pirate lords. There is a Legend in particular about the most famous warband of them all: the Prying Predators.

The Prying Predators were a different sort. They were elective, and traditionally elected women to lead the warband. They had been made rich amongst all other raiders, and started to absorb many of the smaller pirate warbands into their ranks. It would be the Predators that finally tried to return to their ancestral lands in the South. These efforts would be carried out under the Pirate Queen Shiang.

Shiang was born during this age of raiding and strife. She had known no other life than that of stealing and fighting, and became very good at it herself. Her boundless determination and cruelty made her a respected figure in her clan, and eventually even lead her own warband. She renewed raiding of coastal towns, targets which had become more difficult as of late.

This of course, drew the attention of two interested parties: the Prying Predators, and the Lords of Fortuna, Arthos, and Bloodoak.

She was paid by the Predators to integrate her warband into their ranks, making her clan extremely influential and wealthy. At the age of 25, Shiang was flipping walled settlements and turning cargo shipments like coins. She rose to become the Pirate Queen of the Prying Predators, creating detailed maps of the southern shores and their waterways and sending numerous raids as far north as the Lower Montane.

A coalition of Lords from Fortuna, Arthos, Xeilias, and Bloodoak met about the matter. Her insolence must end. They devised a trap, one that would end the hegemony of the Pirate Queen and send her people once more to the wind.

The Battle of Darkbarrow Point is that trap. During one of her raids, the coalition launched the attack of the river delta. Shiang was trapped, her ships outnumbered 2:1. But Shiang was crafty. Knowing there was little hope in direct confrontation, she decided to make a run for it. She quickly redistributed her pirates, making several boats into floating bombs. She then sent those empty boats toward the blockade, primed for explosion. She then, using the detailed maps of the river delta, sailed away unscathed. Explosions could be heard miles away, and the Lords were left with nothing but failure.

Shiang was worried by this coalition, however. If she had not prepared, she would have been destroyed then and there. Shiang decided to finally try and find a way home. Much to her underling’s immediate dismay, she ordered the building of sea-worthy vessels for ocean travel. Soon those boats were made, and the Mydarri left as quietly as they had come.

Shiang lead her people back to their ancestral home, and became a Queen in her own right. It is said that many of the Mydarri nobility is descended from Shiang, and that the Mydarri take from her quick wit and her boundless spirit.

EDIT: swapped owem with mydarri. oops!


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9/15/2019 5:45:16 PM #9

Not all heroes are known for doing heroic deeds in battle or at war! Some risk their lives to save their people peacefuly and to prevent future wars!

Ancient tales speak of the peaceful young King!

In an ancient time a long time ago a powerful barbarian king ruled! He had done many wars and managed to conquer several kingdoms! One of those kingdoms had a huge number of people and they never accepted their defeat! Many years later there were still many rebelions all over the country started by those people who wished for indipendence! The king decided he had enough and after each of the following rebelions he reduced the freedom of these people more and more. Taking away their weapons, their land, their food and forcing them to extremely tiring work to gain their food. The great king grew old and died after having stabilised his empire and passed the throne to his successors! Hundreds of years passed and the now enslaved people still desired freedom, now more than ever, but had no strenght left to fight! Then it happened! A decendant of that king was charmed by one very inteligent slave woman and had a son with her. That king was, unlike the ones that came before him, very kind and had stated that he prefered to let his kids have a civil war to decide the next king instead of having all the weaker ones die before he does to prevent it, as it was written in a law that was introduced after the last succession war 50 years ago stated! And it was this kindness and love for all his kids that prevented him from quietly dealing with the one he had with the slave. As it was a son of the king he couldnt be a slave and had to be declared a possible heir! So he was educated by the best teachers of his time! The boy grew and was extremely inteligent, some would say he was a genius! He was interested in both the ways of his father's people but also the way stories described his mother's people as well! He wished to end the slavery and to show the 2 sides that they can exist together as equals even though they begun as enemies! And he knew a way to present this to his father! His father wouldn't really understand why he wanted to free the slaves but he would understand and help him if his motives were self preservation and not ideals. So one day when the boy was only 12 he approached his father and said:

Son:Father I am very worried and you know why! Even though I am one of your heirs noone would help me in the war that will happen following your death! My brothers are already managed to gain many followers and as I have none i shall be the first to die alongside you!

His father desired to have a few sons and make sure that almost everyone in his court was backing one son as to make a bloodshed unessary! But he was quite easily falling in love with women and his life so far resulted in 8 sons all wanting the power for themselves and all of them,but one, had gathered a decent ammount of followers. So he replied:

King: I know! But there is nothing i can do about it. Noone wishes to support you for the throne and even though you will be no threat whoever is victorious after spilling so much blood will wish to have everyone who has a claim dissapear.

Son: I have a plan father! The boy replied! Give me that Island to govern,the kid said pointing a small and poor on rescources but still having enough to support a small population of people island on a map he was holding.

King: That? That is nothing but a small forest island! Our people always thought it would make a descent farmland but nothing more.

Son: I know this is why you can give me that one! If noone wants it then noone will object in me having it to start a new home there!

King: Even if were to give it to you, who would follow you there and allow you to be called their leader? Don't forget the reason noone is supporting you is who your mother is.

Son: I dont need any of them. At least not at the beggining. Send me alone with 1000 slaves to populate the island.

King: Alone with the slaves? They wish to destroy our house and free themselves. How could you possibly get them to work for you?

Son: This is my experiment father. I am one of them and i wish to see if they are ready to be integrated in our society after so many years of enslavement. I shall go alone with them there and use my identity as one of them to rule them by also treating them as free men. If I succeed I will have enough support over time to survive and if I fail I will just die a bit faster and surely you can handle a small revolt of 1000.

Also because this plan has so small chance to succeed noone will have a problem with it as they will get rid of me in a legal way and present me as a casualty of a rebelion.

And the king aggreed to this little experiment! He named his son lord of the island and sent him off to wait for his new subjects! Then as he was instructed by his son in a meeting picked the most rebelious slaves he could find and sent them to that little island. Once they arrived there, the ships unloaded them on a beach, the guards and ships left and and their new leader was waiting for them! He gave a truly inspiring speach unchaining everyone and providing them with weapons. In his speach he explained who he is, why they are here and most importantly he explained them the full plan, even the parts that he did not mention to his father! The former slaves even though they didnt really trust him then, decided to give him a chance. That was mostly though because he was promising fair treatment, freedom and allowed them to carry weapons near him in case they change their mind. The began under his guidance,he had studied a lot to at least look like he knows what he is doing, they cleared a small piece of land and built their houses! They worked hard because they had to finish everything till next year! They had supplies of food only for 1 year! After those were consumed they had to produce their own food! By the end of the first year a small village had formed! It had enough food production to feed the population, everyone had a roof above their head and it even had a small port with a few fishing boats! After the village had survived for a second year without problems the young prince, who was now chief of this settlement, sent a letter to his father! The letter was stating the current situation of the project and since the experiment was going so well it should be a bit bigger. So more people were sent to the little village! Every few years the king was receiving a letter like that and was sending more and more people. The small village grew to a town of at least 4000 men. Then the same letter appeared again! This time though things were difrent. There were too many slaves being free on that island! His advisors were worried of rebellion! To make their point more clear they asked that, even though he received letters with his son's seal, how could the king be sure that his son was alive and not being killed by the savages and had his seal stolen and used to begin a rebellion?

The king invited his son who was approaching adulthood by that time to his castle for a feast, to make sure he was fine! His advisors however had other plans! They along with his brothers tried would try to assassinate the prince! That the young prince knew, but if he was to not go there that would mean he was planning a rebelion and his father would have no choise but to kill his people and end the experiment!

His settlement had grown a lot since he began building it! It had a nice tavern, a big port, a nice town hall which was also his house and enough people to require more educated workers to do specific tasks! Until now he was working hard being the only one able to read he bought books which he read to learn how to be a doctor that would heal basic wounds and diseases, a low level architect to design basic small structures and read enough to guide his people to what kind of crops to farm in the climate of this island! The island was producing enough food through fishing and farming to support a much larger population but space was becoming an issue too. So the young lord planned to do some negotiations with his father as well in that feast! He needed scholars to do advanced works and to teach his people! He needed a steady supply or people to keep increasing the size of his city and most importantly he needed a trade agreement that would force his neighbours to accept trade with him to sell the food that he was producing in excange for minerals stone and other things his island lacked! In all those years his plan had evolved! He no longer wanted to grow stronger to protect himself and his people by negotiate a peace that grants him more autonomy, now he wanted to make a new independent nation based on his little island where everyone would be free and which would never have to go to war!

He begun preparing! Fortunatly his vision was one that many in his city shared! He had no trouble finding volunteers for his plan! He spent his time planning and training a small group of his guards to be ready to protect him yet not scared easy enough to cause problems! He trained them to stay calm and ignore everything but the real threats even if everyone around them hated them! Finally he found a group of elders willing to die for their cause to be food tasters! When he arrived at the capital, he greeted his father and proceeded to negotiate! His father was impressed! Clearly there was no son of his smarter than him but noone of the officials wanted him to be the future king! The days passed and despite a few assassination attempts that happened the prince didnt make a fuss about it. He protected himself and accused noone of this even though he knew who would be able to do those attempts. In the end he departed with everything he wanted! He had trade deals, scholars and new people! Most importantly though, these new people were not from the slaves! The deal said that any non slave citizen of the kingdom who was found guilty of sympathising or helping rebellions of the slaves would be sent to the princes island instead of being executed!

This worked perfect! Both of them found a way under his guidance to work together and despite the tensions that happened in the first few years things were going well! He knew though that he didnt have too much time! His father was growing old and he wouldnt have any support from his brothers! So he got to work! He worked hard to educate his people! The scholars that he received was tasked to teach EVERYONE how to read and write! He also used his new people to design and built roads a bridge to the small river that was going through his island and expand the port! He then promoted trade! He lowered the taxes from trade a lot and ordered a fleet to be made! He would then go on to give away the ships to his people if they could prove they can sail them for free! They had only one obligation! If the ship( a mix of trade and battleship) was at home in time of war it would immidiately join the combat fleet and fight for the lord! This way he soon had a might fleet with experienced sailors who were going further and further away, gaining sailing experience through traveling and combat experience through fighting pirates!

Merchants came to him as well! He provided a tax free place for them requesting only their service in time of war and for them to not cause problems! Soon all merchants of his father's kingdom and the neighbooring kingdoms as well were based on his little island and every day hundreads of ships were at the ever expanding port at the same time being ready for war at a moment's notice! His brothers were seeing that but his father refused to tax or stop him from doing anything he wanted in his little island, and all assassination attemts failed because his people were very loyal to him!

And finaly the time came! His father passed from old age and the sons begun fighting! He didnt wish to join so he stayed out of it but he did declare himself intipendent of all of them! Seeing that his brothers sent him letters threatening war but he replied with a simple statement! If we go to war none of my merchants will sell you food suplies or weapons to fight in your war so you can either agree with me being indipendent or loose to our fellow brothers and be forgotten! Some tried to fight him but his mighty fleet prevented any enemy ships from ever landing on his land and the brothers who did so found themselves starving without supplies or weapons to continue fighting! The one who won made an attempt to finaly seize this land back after all others were defeated but again the fleet held and the new king was forced to agree that the little island was indipendent. He was also captured in that battle so in the peace treaty he also had to allow all trade from that little island till his reign ended! With all these over the prince had one last big problem to solve! What will happen when I die? he wondered. So he decided to fix the problems of the succession laws that created the problem in the first place by changing his law into a weird elective monarchy. The 5 richest merchant family heads would gather upon the kings death to vote for the new king. This way he was sure no problems would happen if one of his sons was not suitable for the role and noone would have a claim to the island to begin a civil war!

The king continued his life ruling peacefuly! Although he did fight in a couple of wars, none of them was declared by him and did his best to mentain friendly relations with his neighbours! He died of old age and his succeros did a fine job for hundreads of years, making sure the people lived and prospered and none of their enemies wished or managed to attack them because they all wished to trade and none had a fleet as mighty as they had! He even became an example to his neighbours! Soon after his brother's death the great kingdom was broken again in several pieces all of which promised freedom to the slaves to fight for them like our hero did and a few decades later there was no slavery anymore in that land! This story can't be confirmed and we do not know where the city is! The story was found in a book that survived in a shipwreck that was found in our shores! We believe that the crew was killed by starving to death after being swept away by unfortunate winds and currents!

Our translators have managed to translate the bulk of the story but they can't seem to translate the way the names sound without hearing the language even though it has a distant comon root in ancient neran! No place in any known continents match this description! It could be fictional but if it is true one day we might discover it and open the greatest trade route with them! One thing is certain though: These people whoever they are considered their founder a great hero, because even though he never fought in a battle, his live was always at risk for doing what he could for his people!


9/16/2019 12:15:53 PM #10

--- A Guardian's Promise

Stories speak of one of the first Neran houses that first settled the land! They were chieftains! Protectors of the inhabitants from all kinds of danger! As the years were passing there were many raids by barbarian tribes so one of those ancestors thought to build a stone fotress to protect his people! So people gathered from all nearby villages and were united as one hoping to build a place to be a refuge for the weak! And so it happened! That chief later took the title lord of the land by the council of chieftains, due to his many contributions to the society: hidding everyone inside the walls of his fortress during the barbarian invasions, feeding them in times of draught, giving away seeds, clothes and weapons, things that only a true lord would do! They also build a room in the fort for the council of chieftains to discuss and decide matters of great importance! And the chiefs were in time renamed to mayors as their villages grew more and more to form small towns and the lord took the title of the Count. A couple of centuries of prosperity followed in everything! Trading was booming, the army was stronger than ever and the land had many artists and scholars working there!

But as it so often happens, after a long time of prosperity corruption started appearing!

The mayors wished to overthrow the count and take his place! They were jealous working in the shadows, scheming like never before! After so many generations of kind, brave and generous counts(the descendants of that chief, who built the fort) from whom they got so many benefits and protection over the years, this was the ultimate betrayal! To make matters worse a mighty army was coming from the west approaching rapidly, destroying everything on its way and from the south there were news of a mighty Kingdom was making a move north and had made a treaty with the kingdom (which now turned into a duchy) to be unified! The lord lost no time and sent his messengers to assemble the council! The next day they decided to sent scouts west! The group included 12 light cavalry scout 8 of which were provided by the mayors and 4 of them were loyal to the count himself and a smaller group of 6 messengers mostly from the mayors' armies to call their new king for aid!

If noone returned in 4 days time they were to all enter the fortress for protection, where they had stored supplies to last for a long time waiting for aid from their new king!

The days have passed and no news arrived so a descision had to be made! They all decided to follow the previously agreed plan and gather at the mighty fort to wait in safety, while there were no news of the messengers!

Meanwhile one of the loyalist messengers named Kleopas was part of the expedition! The ride was long and tiring and the party stopped by a little pond and lit a fire to rest! Things seemed quiet but Kleopas was unable to sleep as if he was feeling something was off. -He heard voices! -Two of the other messengers! What were they doing up? -Shouldn't they be asleep? he thought! He approached silently to listen! There he saw others! Soldiers! They all went behind a nearby hill! He lost no time! He woke his loyal friends and gave them directions to a safe location nearby with orders to wait for him there and went back to listen to the soldiers! As he approached he discovered that the Coat of arms of the soldiers was one that he had never seen before, and they were speaking of treachery! They were to kill the messengers so no help would arrive and then have a mayor become the count as a subject to the western invaders! The mayors were to open the gates of the fort in secret and the soldiers were to kill the messengers, after they were sure everyone was sleeping! He knew he had to run! He had to warn the others! When they met were shocked, but there was no time to loose! They had to act fast to survive! So they decided to split! Kleopas would go back to the fort to let the count know of the traitors and the others would follow a slightly slower, but unknown to the traitors, route to get to the king!

Meanwhile in the fort the people were getting worried! Black clouds were gathering and the signs were ominous!

Suddenly a huge army appeared in the horizon! The barbarians had arrived! He sighed, saying: "At least everyone is already inside!" The siege begun and it was only a matter of time before the traitors let enemy inside the main gate! That army had managed to approach in secret mainly because the mayors made sure no scout of the lord survived to bring back the news while also guiding them through the safest paths! Then as he was getting ready for the long siege he noticed something weird! Some guards were not on their posts and the enemies were not stopping! They were preparing to assault the castle! He knew then that he was betrayed! He gathered his troops to organise a defence! It was too late the main gate was sabotaged and some mayors with their troops defected and were fighting against their former allies! There was no hope there were being pushed back quickly! The lord decided to stop and pray! ~ He said: "Please God, I beg you to save our children from this slaughter." and all of a sudden the thunder's, lightnings and heavy rain stopped and the clouds start to dissolve. Then the lord felt, a peaceful drop of rain falling on him and miraculously a rainbow appeared. What does that mean, he thought!?! - From the Secret Entrance of the Fortress, Kleopas showed up!!! ~ lord: "what an unexpected miracle this was!" They both knew that they didn't have much time! So, after telling each other a summary of what happened, they begun making plans! The assault was pushing forward to the keep and the secondary defences were not going to hold for long! There was one secret weapon the lord had available! To use that though meant noone inside the fort would survive! Now that Kleopas was here, they decided to send him away with all the kids and some other loyal servants, from the Secret Entrance! and the lord with his guards would lightly arm the women as well, to resist enough and save time, so the kids would have a chance to escape! And so they did that!

Everyone's last wish was for the children: "to grow up, rebuild a new home and live peacefully for ever after."

  • Kleopas gave a promise: "to protect the children and tell the story" and was named "Uetos", because he came and gave hope: "Like a peaceful rain, followed by a rainbow" and helped to save the children so they can make a new beginning.

The people knowing that they were fighting for their children's future, fought with renewed vigor and their morale was high! The enemy had only two choise: Overwhelm them with huge numbers or retreat and do a normal long siege! Being impatient the barbarian lord sent everyone to attack! Kleopas seized the opportunity to escape unnoticed! Then the count made his final move! He ordered whatever archers he had left to use fire arrows and hit the wooden structures behind the enemy! The enemies where overwhelmed by flame! By the end noone from the count army or the traitors were left, the few barbarians who survived discovered that some people escaped and decided to pursue them, but by the time they caught up with kleopas and the kids, the kings glorious army was here and forced them to retreat!

The fort and the lord was lost but hope still remained! The children were safe and in time they would become the new citizens of this land which was now safe under a new king!


9/16/2019 6:05:36 PM #11

The Avarice and Nine Companions

This folklore is sometimes used in Brudvir society among the nobility. Dukes and Counts tell this tale, each with their own variations, to highlight the importance of coming together when disputes arise.

The tale is of a Neran man who led Brudvir people’s into a doomed expedition for his own monetary gains. Such tales make the Neran hard to trust for the Brudvir.

The tale is told, usually by nobles, as a reminder to not put financial gain over family, friendship and loyalty.

The 100 Year Storm Approaches

In 271 the natives of Duchy Wrievok sighted white blankets across the sea as far as the eye could see. This was a sight that had long foreshadowed the predictions of astronomers who worked tirelessly to study the omens in the sky. Residents of this northwestern Taiga Duchy became discontented when a Brudvir Diviner prophesized that the northern Taiga will be inhospitable. While he could not provide the answers people had, astronomers had clearly learnt more but were instructed not to tell the people. This information only reached the High Courts of Elyria.

At the beginning of each summer in the subsequent years, as the white blanket drew closer, seafarers sailed out to the encroaching sea ice with Astronomers, Cartographers, Diviners, Engineers, Monks and Scholars in an effort to study the phenomena and figure how to resist or adapt to it.

Astronomers feared the white storm would turn Elyria into an icey tundra, the native biome of the Yoru. Leading thinkers saw this as an opportunity for Yoru to migrate and expand.

317 - The White Storm

By 307, the white blanket reached the northwest coast drawing inland with every winter. The winters grew longer, and were harder to endure, while the summers grew shorter giving wildlife little chance to develop.

The year 317 saw the first great storm. In the deepest of winter, 6 county’s in the northwest of Wrievok were slowly blanketed with snow and ice over 8 days. Astronomers determined this was the major winter storm Yoru territories suffer every 4 winters when a powerful gust of warm wind from Erishe territories clashes with the Arctic air. The snowstorms could increase intensity as the storm expands and the arctic air clashes with the warmer biomes. It may one day be safer to migrate north again.

The State of Wrievok

The Duchy of Wrievok suffered greatly from the first White Storm, having already spiraling from its depopulation. The northwest became inaccessible, its resources, its coastal access and its fish. Thick snow and ice made it impenetrable for daily activity.

Many Mayor’s and Counts refused to migrate south as there was no promise to keep their title. Instead opting to stay in their ghost settlements.

When the White Storm passed, astronomers warned of the next one in 4 years and thought it would cover much of Wrievok. Panic grew as more migrated south. Despite the gloom, opportunists prepared to venture north into the aftermath.

As World's Collapse, There Will be Heroes

When astronomers revealed their findings to the Kings of Elyria, the King’s advisors concluded the sub-arctic biomes would eventually be the safest place to settle. While many citizens, especially further south, sought to find new lands untouched by the storm. There was now a demand for pioneers to return to the storm-afflicted regions of the Taiga and re-build what they could.

Few dared. For if they couldn’t find shelter before the storm, they would freeze. If they did re-build a community, they would eventually meet the Yoru. Not much is known of the Yoru, other than their harsh environment and curiosity of the Brudvir. Before the storm, homing birds were used to communicate between Yoru and Brudvir people’s. As a secretive tribe, they were looked at with distrust. Hence the concern for their arrival.

Nevertheless, adventurers came forth. Unremarkable soldiers, unassuming citizens from ordinary settlements. Looking for fame, wealth and adventure. Warriors sought fame by facing the Yoru, merchants were eager to capitalize on resources with little competition. Some wanted to learn more of this extreme arctic environment, others wanted to learn more of the Yoru.

Aernid The Avarice

Among the first group of venturing into the white wilderness, one had grander plans. A Neran named Aernid, Elder of a village in the temperate forest. An unlikeable Elder obsessed with wealth. Aernids mineral and logging industry expanded into neighboring counties and brought much animosity from aristocrats and merchants.

Aernid was an opportunist. Knowing he too would have to leave with the inevitable storm drawing in. Though it would be safer to head south, he suspected his foes would make life difficult for him. Heading north was an escape from the problems that come with people. The wealth he had accumulated made chances of survival much greater.

Aernid wanted to govern lands free of noble rule. The transformation of the taiga to the icey tundra was expected to bring unique animals, resources and microbiomes. Aernid wanted to monopolize on a grander scale and to be the first to build relations with the Yoru.

Few joined the ambitious expedition but the nine who did, were paid handsomely to their families. And promised another large sum upon their return.

At the start of spring in 319, Aernid, six warriors, one dungeoneer, a diplomat and an animal handler set northwards from the southern capital of Wrievok. Elk were the mount of choice for their anti-pteroguin antlers, to carry more weight and tread across tough and snowy terrain.

The Hrothi dungeoneer rode on a sled with six wolves. When terrain was too difficult for the wolves, the sled would be pulled by an elk rider with wolves running unharnessed. The wolves were just as important to help fend off dangers in the wild.

Aernid headed towards the north west coast, finding settlements for shelter along the way. Briefly surveying the settlements for resources. He pondered interactions with the Yoru and hoped to provide for them to better relations. Before crossing the arctic line that separated the tundra from the taiga, they felt the difference in temperature of the breeze. Even the Brudvir added a layer or two for extra warmth.

The challenge of the tundra was greater than they had expected. The arctic breeze and drizzling snowfall blowing in their eyes with the vague mist made navigation difficult. The small peak they were heading to, which had a river leading to the sea, was the only distinguishable shape they could make out in the blindingly white snow. Most trees had fallen, unable to withstand the winter storm, and obstructed much of the landscape.

His companions were quick to suggest finding a settlement and settle there. But Aernid wanted to go further than anyone would dare reach. To govern lands unclaimed by nobles, he would need to reach the hardest to access regions. Disaster struck when a pteroguin dived in from the foggy sky and swiped a leading wolf with its crushing claws. As the animal handler bolted forward with his mount bracing for impact, a second pteroguin glided feet first to pick up the panicking wolf but was just shy of being impaled by both antlers of the rider and the elk.

The wolf was too injured to continue and so the handler swiftly killed it, hoping to reunite with its reincarnation. Aernid was enraged and damned the handler for not advising him on the wolves inability to defend themselves and not informing him that wolves are pteroguin prey. The handler stood his ground and warned that if anyone else is lost in the group, he will take his animals and turn around.

A few days into the expedition, Aernid was much disliked but his companions still followed him in the hopes for promised rewards. Though they doubted his leadership.

The group became increasingly exhausted as each evening was spent digging out snow and ice covered buildings to rest for the night. Aernid grew increasingly frustrated with the groups lack of motivation, reminding them of the generous support to their families.

The group pushed on to the base of the mountain where they found a warmly lit cave dwelling with the glaring fire glowing through stacked up bits of wood and logs covering half the entrance. It was an uplifting sight to see life near to the journey’s end. When no one responded to Aernid’s call, he approached the entrance and looked through the stacked logs. Aernid sharply turned to the warriors gesturing a big cat was in the cave. The warriors, tired and poorly rested, were energised through their fervour to ascend the cat into mann hoping its reincarnate would join them. They prepped their spears with confidence before hoisting onto the logs to peer over. But the stack gave way, frightening the cat deeper into the dwelling.

Then they saw who it was feeding on. Another adventurer with two frozen body’s on either side of the fire. The six spear wielders broke in and cautiously moved around the corner as Aernid impatiently followed to loot the corpses and travel gear. The big cat pounced from one of the holes in the top of the dwelling, swiping a warrior from behind with enough force to knock him against the wall before jumping into another hole. The reactions of the Brudvir were slower as fatigue set in. They ferociously stabbed into the holes, chanting for ascension. The handler refused to bring the wolves in at Aernid’s request as the Brudvir need to kill the cat for the reincarnation to occur.

When Aernid confronted the handler outside, commotion replaced chanting as the warriors were ambushed a second time before killing the beast. One of the men was bleeding profusely from the neck having been dragged and shaken by the cats jaws. Two others caught the cats swipe, tearing through their layered clothing and causing injury that limited arm and torso movement. Tired, cold and now wounded, the Brudvir followers sensed despair in each other. They knew Aernid would not stop pushing. Seemingly unfazed by the event, Aernid discussed prospecting for minerals inside the dwelling with the dungeoneer, how to setup a cave farm and the sturdiness of the dwelling.

Undetermined to continue working for the man, a warrior who narrowly avoided the felines claws, briskly walked out the cave with spear in hand towards Aernid. He raised the spear over his shoulder and with both his thick weary arms struck Aernid through the neck from behind. Throwing him to the side, apologising to the stunned dungeoneer as he placed one foot on Aernid’s back and pulled the spear out.

The diplomat, the dungeoneer and the animal handler decided to return south, taking all the animals with them. The warriors stayed with their dying and wounded, hoping to survive the storm in the cave. For 98 years the storm expanded southwards, reaching the temperate forests, decimating the ironwood trees before it suddenly disappeared with only the cold and mist lingering. Reports of Yoru settling on the north west coast were abundant as more warriors set out to find them for personal glory. Though when the storm disappeared, only their abandoned camp settlements remained. Adventurers were fascinated with these camps as there were no signs of fires and their infrastructure was made from snow, ice and bones melded together by a sticky fish-smelling substance.

The story of Aernid had stuck throughout the generations as the Neran saw him as a hero for his sheer resilience and bravery, let down only by his companions while the Brudvir see him as a heartless fool willing to use others for his personal gain. The Hrothi understood both sides but very rarely discussed this story openly with their neighbours.

Adventurers had trekked to the dwelling, hoping to find out what happened to the warriors. But there were no signs of them. No more bones either. Some say they crawled into the holes and were swallowed into the mountain. Others believe they met the Yoru and travelled to their homeland. Some authors theorised a mythical creature preyed on them while other authors suggest they either returned home or settled elsewhere in the northwest.


Becoming a Legend of the community, one post at a time.

9/16/2019 8:05:41 PM #12

I made this some time ago, but I think it suits the theme very well so if you don't mind me using the tale of Jyn to participate :

Beware of Jyn, Kypiq eaters.

"It's looking at you. It knows that you hate Kypiqs. It knows that you like to make them suffer. It knows that you love to eat them. But more importantly, it hopes to hear you scream. It is Jyn."

This is the story of Jyn, Rak and Poy, three young Kypiqs, who were caught up by the night while carelessly wandering through the forest. A light in the dark led them to a weird hut on the ground. A Mann lived there, a Mann from another tribe, and when he noticed the lost group of Kypiqs, he offered them hospitality. It's unsafe to stay on the ground, but they had nowhere else to go.

The hut seemed bigger inside, and prettier. Indeed, the walls were decorated with silk tapestries and clay baubles. Furthermore, there were lot of beautiful and tasty berries on the table. "Eat as you wish, you're my guests tonight," the Mann said. Dazzled by the scenery, Rak and Poy rushed to the table and gorged themselves with berries. However, Jyn stayed on guard, and only pretended to eat.

Then, a laugh burst behind them. A twisted laugh. Jyn stood up, but not Rak nor Poy. When he realized that they had fainted, it was too late. He wasn't able to dodge the blow of the club the Mann was hiding, and fell unconscious.

Jyn woke up tied up to a chair, on the same table than before. It was the same weird hut, but yet it was so different. Tapestries and clay were substituted by pieces of hide and bones. No more berries on the table, only blood and meat. A vision of horror for all self-respecting Kypiq. Still, the Mann looked peaceful as he smiled to Jyn. "I'm glad you finally woke up, my friend, I began to lose patience. Worry not, the poison does not spread in the flesh, you can eat serenely," he said. Full of dread, disgust and hatred, the Kypiq shouted at the Mann. He tried to shout at the Mann. His words didn't come out. Only unintelligible sounds. And tears. Were they tears of fright, tears for his dead friends, or tears for his tongue that he can't feel, that didn't matter anymore.

The Mann's smile grew larger as he began his bloody meal. Unable to move nor to speak, Jyn closed his eyes not to see the atrocity and the barbarity that's happening within the hut. As if he was going to die, pictures of his life scrolled past his eyes. Despite being short, his life was full of adventures and discoveries. Like the time when he explored a maze with Rak and Poy. They took a long silk thread to avoid getting lost, and they heard footsteps coming closer. Wait, these footsteps were real. Jyn opened his eyes to find the Mann just in front of him, a fork with a piece of meat in his hand, ready to feed him this disgusting dish. "Come on, give it a try. I wonder what taste your meat will have if you're fed with the meat of your own kind. Hurry up and eat." he ordered while forcing the meat into Jyn's mouth.

In a last attempt to refuse his fate, he spat the piece of meat mixed with his own blood right in the eye of the Mann. Surprised, he recoiled and fell in pain. Quickly, Jyn managed to free himself from his bonds, and tried to escape. Yet the Mann, who lost his smile and his peacefulness, stood up and screamed with rage while blocking the exit. He didn't block it long, though, as Jyn cut the throat of the mad Mann with a knife found on the table. He never killed anyone, but this time his desperation made him cross the line.

Jyn died before dawn, since he was losing too much blood from his cut tongue. It is said that his soul was reincarnated into a creature of darkness, hunting down the mad Manns that dare to eat Kypiqs.

Beware of Jyn, Kypiq eaters.


9/17/2019 2:09:53 AM #13

Darf the Drunky

Info:

This story is a very subtle underlying joke about a player wanting to be "A Drunk Dwarf" type character in CoE.

The name Darf is like Dwarf, since Dwarves/Hrothi usually live under mountains it's like a pun/gag. But for Darf, always drinking in CoE didn't go well. It's almost like the in game lore perspective on how the people of Elyria would see the story left behind of a players character who played "The Drunken Dwarf".

Done in an accent for fun, (Somewhat like the Dukes of Hazard Narrator kind of Country accent)

Deep in the tunnels of a small hrothi mountain community, lived one such Hrothi named Darf, known as Darf the Drunky. Why not jus' "the drunk" or "the Drunkard"? Some folks say he was too drunk t' write the word while filin' a harrasment complaint fer the name, others say the children came up with it from hearin' their parents speak about 'im in rushed mutterins while hurryin' em' away. The truth? Well, if y' ask around most'll say that only the tunnels know.

This story is of when Darf the Drunky met 'is end, and seein' how he drank, well, it's no wonder... Whether it was fer the attention' o' others, or jus' show'n off, though some say it was simply fer the persona of " bein' the most drankinest' 'rothi 'round the mountn' " Regardless o' the reas'n, it was a pretty quick end, and o' course it would be, when one tries t' play chicken with a rogue group of canis rabbits....

It was a bright day when Drunky, ahem.. I mean Darf, was followin' round a group o' adventurers, braggin 'bout how much he drank, and how, "no 'rothi" as he'd say, was tough as him. After continuin' to be a nuisance and comin' across the canis rabbit group, Darf thundered out, "Ae'll proove thaiet I'em the tuffest and the drankinest!" The adventurers tried to stop 'im as Darf went a runnin' into the oncomin' group of them blood bunnies, but he was jus' too quick. He did succeed however, in savin' the adventurers, and by chance, bein' remembered as "the hero hrothi who took on a pack of canis to save his comrades". Which I've heard they've milked a time or two for some reason or another.

While the truth is only known by a few in that small hrothi community where Darf once lived, They now teach their children the dangers o' showing off, runaway drinkin', and participatin' in nonsense just for the renown. Because in those Hrothi tunnels, Darf the Defender is still jus' known as Darf the drunky. But more importantly, Since 'lyria can be one dangerous place, they tell the story t' teach hrothi youngin's some life lessons, through the real tale of Darf the Drunky, who through his bad choices, only wound up as Darf the Dead.

Don't be like Darf.


9/17/2019 6:42:28 AM #14

The myth of the Long Singing brothers

In the coastal wetland hamlet of Greybarn Bight lived two young adult twins: Lananyo and Tenuyo. They were tall and lanky, even for Dras. Although twins, their physical prowess made Tenuyo seem stately while Lananyo appeared rugged, reminding one of an exiled prince and his most trusted guard. There was still a hint of gold in their violet eyes, which were like a sunset on a summer’s eve. They were fishermen, like their father and their father’s father before him. Although capable in their craft, they found little joy in it and only fished out of duty to the community. They much preferred exploring the swamps land inward. They were inseparable from birth and expected to one day die together if the Two-Fold Queen would allow it.

It was the year of the Eve of the Longest Night and Selene had just touched Angelica, setting in motion a twelve season-long darkness. Twice per century, the sun was eclipsed by a planet in a process that took three years. Its first year, known as the Eve, was the start and brought ever-darkening twilight. Its second year, known as Midnight, was pitch black. The third, known as the Dawn, slowly brought light back into Elyria. During the longest night, the lands were cast into an ever-worsening winter. Animals would act strange, disappear, or become highly aggressive to find what little food was left. Farming became nearly impossible and the people of Elyria tended to rely heavily on food storage and hunting. Luckily for the Dras, they could eat most foodstuffs even after they’d gone off or mould had gotten to them. The Longest Night therefore did not worry them as much as it did other tribes.

The twins were out exploring a new part of the swamp. They did not know where they were going, only the direction they came from. The pair chatted while seeking out or remarking on any interesting features. As they walked along, they lost all sense of time. Insofar that it was still distinguishable from day, evening fell before they knew it and they realised they needed to head home.

On their way home, they were completely taken aback by an otterbear. It sprung out of a murky pond and lunged at Tenuyo. He barely managed to jump out of the way. “Run!” Lananyo shouted, as he sprinted in the direction of Greybarn Bight. When Lananyo looked back, he saw that the otterbear had forced his brother to run in the other direction. Lananyo would not let his brother get eaten by an otterbear, or worse – lost in the swamp at the mercy of the Two-Fold Queen who took life as easily as she gave it. Lananyo turned back to chase after his brother and the beast.

Once he had caught up, Lananyo noticed that his brother was pinned to a tree by the otterbear. Tenuyo’s leg was in the beast’s jaws making him cry out in pain. Lananyo jumped on the otterbear’s back. He started stabbing the creature with his jet knife. The otterbear let Tenuyo go and attempted to remove his brother from its back, to no avail. After a tiring and dizzying struggle, Lananyo was thrown off. The otterbear decided that that was enough and ran away before more harm befell it. Once Lananyo ensured that it was safe, he ran over to his brother who was slumped against the base of the tree. “Help…” Tenuyo mumbled, more unconscious than alert. Lananyo checked his brother’s wound but could see that it was too gruesome for him to try to mend. They needed help and Tenuyo could not walk. He got up and attempted to gain his bearings. All the tumbling and fighting had disoriented him and going in any direction for help would have been a guess.

Tenuyo was unconscious, but his brother could not tell whether it was sleep or the pain from the wound that caused his state. Lananyo had gathered some food and filled their waterskins with murky water from a nearby pond. He did so in the knowledge that poison and decay could not worsen their situation. Lananyo was at the end of his wits. Nowhere to go, no help in sight, and nothing to do but care for his unconscious twin; Lananyo was scared and pessimistic about their chances. There was no way out.

He started to sing. In a minor key, a ballad came out of his mouth that lamented the brevity and fragility of life as the Two-Fold Queen takes what she so graciously granted before. All his grief and sadness poured into an improvisation. One we now know as the ‘Light Lament.’ Lananyo did not stop singing, despite the lack of a conscious audience. He wanted to comfort himself, his brother, and perhaps attract the attention of potential passers-by, however slim that chance may be. He sang for what must have been four hours before his brother came to.

Dazed but comforted by his brother’s singing and a few bites of food, Tenuyo attempted to lift their spirits. He joined in the singing with a countermelody that transformed the minor key into major. Although Tenuyo did not have much energy, the song itself was powerful – celebrating a life well-lived. Rather than mourning its end, the song accepted it. It was optimistic and appeared to challenge his brother’s like the two had done throughout their lives thus far. The song he sang we now know as the ‘Triumph of the Night.’ They sang this harmonic but disjointed duality for another four hours.

Just past midnight, as Lananyo felt he had no more breath in him, they heard his very own light lament sung back at them in the distance. Someone had heard them! Sadly, the swamps were disorienting and they could not tell its origin. The wounded brother sang louder, in the hope that it would aid anyone searching them. Perhaps, also, he sang louder out of fear – hoping to keep any more ill-willed creatures away. After an hour, the third voice faded and left an eerie silence as only Tenuyo was left singing.

By this time, Lananyo had regained his breath and took up singing where the third voice had left. It was the only thing they knew to do. It took until an hour before dawn for anything to change. The same voice as they’d heard at midnight singing the light lament re-joined them. Only this time another voice tagged along, singing the triumph of the night. The twins continued singing, in the hope that the Two-Fold Queen would come to their aid. Slowly, a third voice took over, coming from what may have been a different direction as the most familiar voice stopped. A chain seemed to form, where every hour a different voice would take over as the dawn neared and light began to shine again. It was uplifting and it showed the power of the Two-Fold Queen and her followers. As the sun was fully up, a person stepped into their sight. They did not recognise her.

“Is it you who have been singing for the past four years?” She asked, likely astounded to find the tired, but still singing pair to be two plain Dras brothers.

They stopped singing and looked at Angelica. Selene appeared to be on the other side from where it was yesterday – an indication that the Long Night was ending. It could not be! Yesterday the Long Night was only starting.

“I don’t know about four years, but we are lost and my brother is wounded. Could you help us?” Lananyo replied. The confusion flowed from his mind onto his face and left furrows in his forehead like rivers through landscapes. The woman, who in all accounts remains unnamed, although some hint that she was the Two-Fold Queen herself, helped them find their way back to Greybarn Bight. Once they arrived there, everyone they knew looked different. Family and friends were older and some had an extra scar. The villagers explained that, to them, the brothers disappeared at the start of the Long Night, four years ago. Since then, they’d been hearing the brothers’ singing and feared that it was their spirits, unclaimed and not been put to rest. Their father had tried to sing along but did not have the stamina to keep singing for longer than four hours. By the third year, the Long Night seemed never to end. They believed they needed to sing along with the twins for longer in order to end the celestial event and put their souls to rest. So they sang for months, one person picking up where the other could not continue. Even neighbouring villages joined: they had heard of the story of Tenuyo and Lananyo and how the singing coincided with the start of the dawn of the Long Night. As the dawn came – although a year late – and warmed the swamps once again, the entirety of the Dras sighed in relief. They knew that their singing had called the Two-Fold Queen who in return rebalanced the scales of light and dark. The singing saved them from the longest Long Night that had ever been. The singing saved the brothers from a slow and painful death.

Ever since, the Dras sing the Duality, as the duet of Light Lament and Triumph of the Night has come to be known, in one continuous flow of singers throughout the three years that the Long Night lasts. Some sing to ensure no four-year Long Night will recur, others to thank the Two-Fold Queen for her balance, and some simply to keep the history alive. But every single Dras does so – without hesitation for hours on end.


Astrid van Mauve

9/23/2019 4:57:44 PM #15

Vault of Destiny

As the young Hrothi entered the ancient vault his eyes adjusted to darkness. The room was rectangular in shape, with more width than length. The dimensions of the room seemed strange but unusually familiar. The entrance that he had just passed through was small, even by Hrothi standards. It was perfectly centred, the only opening to the vault. In the middle of the room stood a small pedestal with a book placed upon it. The walls were perfectly smooth to the touch, except for a series of identical rectangles carved into each wall from the ground to the ceiling. Each one identical in size and shape to the door and engraved with text like the tablets he had seen in the Hrothi library of his village. The floor and ceiling had no markings.

The young Hrothi moved towards the pedestal to examine the book more closely. The pedestal stood about waist height from the ground with a lockbox attached to the support pillar. The box was small enough to grasp with a clenched fist, ornately decorated with gemstones which almost seemed to shimmer in the darkness, a subtle effect that only a Hrothi’s eyes could discern. The box was locked and required a key to open. The book, which seemed to be the focal point of the room was positioned laterally on the pedestal, and secured firmly in place. The text on the outer stone cover was etched sideways to compensate for its positioning. It was shaped with an unusual convex curve. Curiously the back cover of the book appeared to be its beginning. The young Hrothi’s only means of discovering what lay inside was to fold to cover towards him.

He stretched out his arms, grasped the stone cover, and folded it towards him. As he opened the book, a light began to shine from within. A colourful array of text shone from the pages like rays of sunlight being channelled through natural crystals to illuminate the room. The text aligned itself perfectly on the ceiling of the chamber as if it was the page of a book. In that moment the design and purpose of the room became clear. Everything was positioned perfectly to allow the text to be projected upwards. The length and width of the room were similar in scale to that of a book. That was the reason for the sense of familiarity when he walked into room. The height of the pedestal was perfectly calibrated to allow the entire text to cover the ceiling. The concave shape of the book ensured that the text spread evenly over the entire surface. The book wasn’t secured to the pedestal to prevent theft but to ensure the masterpiece of art and engineering was viewed as it was meant to.

As he gazed upwards to admire and contemplate the beauty of the work that lay before him, the young Hrothi noticed that the text carved into the wall was identical to that upon the ceiling. The mystery of the vault deepened. To confirm his assumption, he turned the first page of the book. The soft touch of gold on his fingers sent a shiver through his body as he realised that he was the first person to view this work of art in hundreds of years. The turning of the page towards him created a calm movement in the air against his face, as if by design. The text shone brightly in his brown eyes, turning them a deep red, engraving the knowledge into his mind. The back of the page contained no text, and the next page of the book projected itself upon the ceiling in the same manner as the first. His assumption was then confirmed. The text of each page was also etched into the wall.

After what seemed like an Age of Elyria had passed, the young Hrothi turned the final page. Before him lay the back cover of the book, and an inscription carved into it: “The key to our future is to learn from the past, remember our mistakes and triumphs, share what we have gained, and pass on the wisdom of our experience and knowledge to future generations..” Below the final words of the unknown author a golden key was placed perfectly into the stone, an invitation to open the contents of the lockbox which was secured to the pedestal. He took the key gingerly in his fingers and opened the box. The contents of the box shimmered as he lifted the lid. Contained within was what appeared to be a small chisel, possibly the same one that was used to engrave the walls of the vault with the text of the book. It appeared golden like the pages he had just read. He took it in his hand, but it was much lighter than expected. The golden colour and light weight, it had to be Hrothic alloy!

In that moment, his destiny had been written. The young Hrothi left the vault with a new purpose in life, to gather, preserve and share all knowledge for the benefit of all mannkind.