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Arthur -> RE: Medieval Fantasy Head-to-Head (7/1/2012 11:17:54)
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My Journeys With A Legend
Greetings, Fellow Readers!
My name is Raynard Karsch and I am a senior scribe at The Great Library of Ara’ath. Without any further delays, I shall skip straight to what matters most, what led to me writing this book filled with accounts of my travels with a Legendary War Hero. I shall begin directly with my own story, so I would advise dear readers to bolt their doors, shut the windows, light their candles and creep under their sheets before they read on.
Chapter 1
The Beginning of my Journey
Ara’ath used to be a most beautiful city during my childhood days, much more serene, much warmer and even more hospitable than it is now. It used to be known as “The City of Sights”, chiefly so because it contained within its walls a number of magnificent heritage sites, and also because the many buildings within were constructed in a unique design with tall spires and big windows. There to the north of the City stood the Castle of King Rareth, now used for the purpose of the City Prison. To the south, the Palace of the fair Queen Lady Kiana, at least she still lives there. The Palace is a beautiful golden affair with massive double doors serving as entrances to the palace. Guards flank the gates day and night, although, most of them as I have noticed over the past few years tend to fall asleep leaning on their polearms.
Moving on, to the West is what really matters...to me, that is. Spread over a massive amount of area, one cannot help but notice the presence of The Great Library of Ara’ath. Housing over a thousand small study rooms, a massive central archive and the numerous Scribes’ rooms, this is easily the most marvellous piece of architecture in all of Karsvorth, our continent.
I was still young back then, but still old enough to be taken in as an Apprentice Scribe for The Great Library. Sadly, for me, my mentor was a most cruel man. It was obvious that he had reached the most prestigious post of High Scribe through his numerous dark connections throughout the City. All he did was sit at the stone desk, drink cold ale, laugh like a donkey and if he still had some time left after that, he would spare me some amusing glances and scribble off at his own pleasure. All I learnt in my five years with him was the art of observation, which I constantly practiced on the man himself, much to his annoyance. One day however, he did not come to the study and I sat alone archiving old tomes, legends and stories. And it was then that my eyes fell upon a dusty old tome on the leather cover of which was written, in ancient Lacknish(the language spoken in Karsvorth), the words “Dragons Immortal”.
My curiosity piqued and picking up that dusty old tome, I tucked it under my cloth corset and wordlessly exited the study. I needed silence, I needed comfort and I needed time for I wished to read that tome, that tome which contained within itself knowledge of the ancient, winged behemoths...Dragons. It so happened that Dragons were long dead, hunted down to the last one, slayed mercilessly. The rumors have run rampant, in fact, so much so that it is said that travellers have seen massive winged skeletons lying in huge, rusted steel cages north of Ara’ath in the ruins of Blackboven. I however, am a man of facts, and therefore, rather than believing in rumors and living in awe, I believe in getting the work done as soon as I can.
I don’t know if the Great Library has another copy of the tome, but if there is one thing that I do know, then that is that this tome revealed to me a lot of legends. I learnt to see things in a much clearer light after reading of the Dragons’ wisdom. In the tome was written everything that could have served as common knowledge to those wise and all knowing High Monks of Etra and also as vital information to the Dragon Slayer Guild situated in the city of Lok Fellast, south of Ara’ath.
To me however, it was just another excuse to go out and see the world in the new light of the Dragons’ wisdom.
For four nights I kept reading the tome without halt or hesitance. I learnt of the Rising, the First Sighting, the Rumors, the Search, the Hunt and lastly of the Disappearance, all of which were related with every event that had taken place since the Dragons had first made their presence known in the Underground City of Etra, where even to this day, one can see the Three Charred Stones, tall oblong stone structures blackened to the core with what the people believe was the fiery breath of the Dragons. Some even claim to have felt it as being warm to the touch, perhaps after effects of the breath lasting even to this day. I however knew that this was all a lie, and that these stones were perhaps just petty trickery placed at the right spot in the dead of the night only to be found and gaped upon by the people in the morning. The following rumors were of course, inevitable.
Returning back to the tome, I finished it on the fifth night and turned the final page. What I saw left me dumbstruck. There in the final page was scribbled in a dirty handwriting what would well have been locations. Whoever had written these had filled the whole page with his dirty handwriting. Here is what was written:
The Ancient Dragon of Knowledge, Mir was reportedly sighted flying by over the North Barrens heading east. He was sighted thrice afterwards flying at the same location as the first time. No one has dared to venture near that place again for fear of the Ragged Cloaks that haunt the North Barrens in the nighttime.
The Ancient Dragon of Trickery, Zerath was seen by a multitude of people as he flew past the city of Lorevand and was reported by some people to have landed by the deserted pond west of the city, he hasn’t been seen since then.
The Ancient Dragon of Shapeshifting, Alceifer was reportedly seen once by a group of weary travellers who were passing by the Lone Gorge to the north of the city of Ara’ath. He wasn’t seen again.
The Ancient Dragon of Darkness, F...
Sadly, the page here was torn and so I could not read what more this mysterious author had written. I searched all the pages for more clues as to who was this Ancient Dragon of Darkness, but try as I may, I could not find even a single phrase mentioning this mysterious Dragon of Darkness, although, there did exist a Dragon of Light who went by the name of Aela.
I contemplated the possibility of a few Dragons managing to survive after the Hunt, and I spent my next few nights losing sleep over it until one day, I made up my mind. I decided to go and do what I did best, and that was, going and seeing for myself.
***
The next day, I woke up early, freshened up and changed into my travelling clothes. I packed all my necessities into my leather satchel which I wore over my shoulder. Then, casting one last glance around my house, I locked the door and headed off to the Great Library.
Once there, I signed a leave letter and had it forwarded to the Head Librarian before I turned towards the door. Opening the main gates, I hesitated for a while thinking of whether I should tell my mentor of my long leave before I left. However, my conscience was not one to goad me into such tasks of risk. I knew that my mentor would never sanction a leave, and so, shaking my head to myself, I left.
This was the first time that I had stepped out of my hometown since the day I was born. The outside world with its unique grasslands, open fields, distant forests and rivers had its own charm. As I trudged along, with every step, I found myself reproaching myself more and more for not having left home earlier. The wide world outside was filled with so many prospects, opportunities, so many people, new cities, caves, ruins just waiting to be discovered. Just thinking about all this made me shudder with excitement and with renewed vigour, I walked on.
My first destination as the tome revealed was to be the one nearest to my present location, and that was the Lone Gorge where the Legendary Dragon Alceifer was sighted by the weary band of travellers. Twilight was fast approaching, and so was a sense of fear. I was afraid, and I had only just realised that. The outside world provided no shelter to men of civilization like me. I considered it a wise move to draw my map from within the depths of my spacious satchel, the one thing that I held most dear to me for it held within itself a couple of books, one of them being the tome, while the other was a blank book wherein I was to write of my journeys, and which also happens to be the book which you are now reading, although I can’t tell whether what you are reading is a copy or the original. But all the same, I also held within my satchel, a bottle of ink, a feather stylus, a rusty old hunting dagger, loaves of bread that I had bought that morning from Rhe’s shop before leaving and a few letters from my grandfather who also happened to be a senior scribe at the very same library, with the exception of being a travelling scribe. He had travelled the world extensively and he knew of each and every river, every forest and pond that existed in our continent of Karsvorth.
I hurriedly examined the map searching for my location and with just my luck, I found out soon enough that between me and the Lone Gorge stood the forest of Ungol, of which I am compelled to admit that I had never heard a word of or seen writings of before this day. I understand that it comes a bit of a let-down seeing as I am a scribe and am expected to be well-versed in the ways of the world, the people and the many places that this world holds within it. However, might I also point out that I used to be a reader only of legends and old tales, not to mention stories of beautiful princesses, playful mermaids, haunted castles and nefarious villains.
Nonetheless, tucking my map in my satchel I walked on. It was just after night fell that I found myself atop a little hillock and from there, the forest of Ungol came into my view. In the fell cloak of the darkness that had settled over all of the land, it seemed all the more terrifying to behold, like a black, gigantic monster that slept blocking the path to the lands beyond, the path which much to my terror coincided with my own. I looked far and wide trying to find an opening in between the dense forest wherefrom I might pass through unharmed and unscathed into the lands beyond...but to no avail. This was one forest that I had to pass through, and so, without further delay, I set off.
Soon enough, the forest towered over me as I walked right into it passing between two towering trees that seemed all the more horrific because of their unnaturally huge girth and equally overwhelming height. The forest, in which I was now, was like no forest of which I had read in my fairy tales as a young boy. This forest had ancient trees with gnarled, fat trunks, long branches that reached several feet away from the tree itself. The many leaves that adorned these huge trees formed a canopy over the forest that did well to block the moonlight. I however trudged on with a resolution that I would not let this forest get the best of me. In any case, even if I had succeeded in curbing my mind to some extent, my sensibilities were still prone to external influences.
And at that exact moment, a shrill scream tore through the silent forest air causing me to come down on my knees and wrap my arms around my head as I shivered with fear. The scream lasted for a couple of heartbeats before it ended almost abruptly and the forest fell silent again.
It was only after I heard the owls hooting again that I took my arms off my head and slowly stood up looking around. That scream had etched a place for itself in my memory and every time I thought of it, it made me want to run back to Ara’ath; dash through its strong steel gates and entering my house, climb under my sheets where I may lie till the world came to an end. But I had a firm resolve and I was determined to meet with at least three of those Dragons that were listed within the tome that lay in my satchel.
I half walked and half ran my way through the damned forest not even daring to stop for even a moment for fear that the owner of that scream might appear from behind a tree and pounce upon me tearing at my flesh with its long, curved talons and peck at me with its beak or whatever it used to prey upon ignorant travellers. As it happened, I felt exhausted after some time and had to stop for a rest. Therefore, as I leaned with my palms on my knees, I looked around for a safe, sheltered place where I may rest. And as luck would have it, my eyes fell upon the hollow of a tree large enough to house a bear within it and low enough for me to lift my leg and climb in. Walking over to it, I lowered my head and stepped into the hollow where I sat down and made myself comfortable. Placing my satchel on my lap, I sighed with relief and looked straight up and much to my astonishment, found that the top was fairly high and open allowing for a good amount of moonlight to creep in and light the hollow.
I decided to spend the night there, where no wild animal would spot me unless it was looking really well. I moved the flap of my satchel and reaching in, drew out the rusty hunting dagger, a loaf of Rhe’s bread and the sheaves of sealed letters that I carried with me. I placed the knife to the side and taking a much awaited bite out of the bread, tore open the first of the five letters that my grandfather had written to me and instructed me to open them only should I decide to go out and see the world. Therefore, finding this to be the perfect time and opportunity, I drew from within the old, brown envelope, a folded piece of paper that when unfolded was big enough to match my palm’s breadth. I recognised my grandfather’s straight and abruptly ending writing immediately. It wasn’t the best of the writings, but it was reassuring. With a final look over my head and out the hollow, I started to read the letter in the dim moonlight.
“Dear Rey,
By the time you read this, know that I would be long gone, out of your lives and out of your sights. Also know that these five letters that I have written to you are my writings of my on-going journey from the last three years and which is still continuing as you read. And be assured that I shall continue to write to you for as long as I live and breathe for you are my most precious treasure and I miss you the most. Please read these letters very carefully as they contain a treasure trove of information on the many jungles, rivers, caves and mountains that dot this vast world.
In this first letter of mine, I shall write about the most dreaded of all forests in Karsvorth known by the name, Ungol. And should you happen to be there at the moment, keep in mind that the instant you finish reading this letter, you must take your leave of that forest.
I happened to be there on the most cursed of nights, as it happened. Rain was lashing down on me as I entered Ungol passing through two huge trees that stood tall, like sentinels guarding the entrance to a haunted castle. Be aware that those trees go by the name “Kialan Fehn” or “The Lost Pair”, known so because of a rumour that was spread around by a fellow Ara’athian, a shepherd by the name of Kella who had been near that forest only that day. He entered Ara’ath shouting that he had sighted two huge trees guarding the entrance to the forest that he had not seen the last night. And so it was that they came to be known as The Lost Pair because people believed them to be two lost travellers, lovers who were fleeing from the King’s men and upon trying to enter the forest, were turned into trees by a witch’s curse. Most tragic, but nevertheless, I passed the trees and entered the dense forest making my way through the sea of tall, ancient trees. For some time, I was at ease until suddenly, a shadow passed behind one of the trees, or so I thought. In order to find out, I moved closer to the tree and once near enough, I abruptly looked behind the trunk only to find no one there. Disappointed and confused, I moved away and had turned to return to my path when I saw it standing there, a mere few feet from me. It wore a cloak black as the night itself with the hem torn and ragged. It had a hood covering its face and it seemed to be levitating above the ground. I stepped back and felt for my dagger safely sheathed at my belt. The cloaked thing hovered closer to me and stopped, then it started to raise its face and much to my horror, the veil hiding its face started to lift up of its own accord. Fear-stricken, I backed away and looking down, drew my dagger and when I looked back up, it was still there and the veil had completely lifted off its face and I saw what I never thought I would have to see as long as I lived. There was nothing. There was no head, only air where the head should have been. I let a gasp and turning on my heels, dashed through the forest not slowing down for fear that the spectre-if that was what it was-might catch up with me and steal my head to use as its own. I ran and I ran, but with every step, I felt that I might not make it. The forest was endless, trees and trees for as far as I could see. My lungs were burning, thirsting for air. I dared to glance back just once and much to my relief, no apparition followed me. I heaved a sigh and slowing to a walk, went on. The rain had stopped by now, but dawn still seemed way off. I had just started to think that I might make it when all of a sudden; a flurry of terrifying screams invaded my ears piercing the night air. Shrill and deadly, the screams went on and on until I could not take it anymore. My palms loosened over my ears and I collapsed. That was all I remembered of my time in the forest.
I woke up next morning only to find the sun shining upon my face and no trees around me. Sitting up, I looked around and I found out that I was out of Ungol. The forest loomed behind me. While I lay, someone must have carried me out of that forest. I slowly stood up and recovering my satchel and dagger that I also found lying beside me, I set off away from the shadow of that forest hoping never to return again.
I had walked just a few steps when I stopped to look back and there at the edge of the forest standing between the trees, I saw It. The hooded creature. It wore its cloak over its “head” once again and was clearly looking at me. For a while, I was compelled to think that perhaps it was It who had saved me from the depths of that never ending forest. As a tribute, I drew my dagger once more and raising it high up, brought it down upon the wet muddy ground wet from the rain. I embedded the dagger there as a mark of respect for It and when I looked back up, it wasn’t there anymore. With a smile on my face, I left.
Now, let me tell you that what I encountered in the forest is actually known as a Ragged Cloak, strange beings that are found in almost all the forests in Karsvorth. I saw five the other day as I passed through the forest of Menlandi. They are considered to be harmless appearing only to look at travellers, although none has been reported to having its cloak removed for travellers to see. I considered myself lucky to have seen it and survived. The Ragged Cloaks have cousins as well of which you must know. The Red Raggs, the Ragged Cloaks with blood red cloaks are rumoured to haunt some forests as well. Like their black-cloaked cousins, they too wear cloaks although, they do not wear hoods and their heads are but a bunch of hair falling as low as their chests which also cover their faces. Know that they are considered to be dangerous and should you face one, don’t linger long enough for it to part its veil of hair and show you its terrible face.
Also let me tell you that the screams that I heard in the forest belonged to the Giant Witches of the Fordwer Coven that’s known to exist in that forest. These witches stay invisible during the nighttime and roam the forest during daytime as beautiful damsels looking for unwary travellers of whom they will ask for assistance only to make them follow the witches into the depths of the jungle never to leave it again. Let me warn you that the witches attack in a group at night. The hunt begins with three warnings. The first one is a shrill scream which serves as a premature warning, the second one is a shrill set of high-pitched laughs and the last one is the earth shaking violently signalling the much feared approach of these witches. If you have already heard the screams, then best not wait for the other two warnings and run for your life. Remember, these witches are as tall as Giants and are known to look like towering hags with razor sharp teeth. They will swoop down on travellers in packs of three and drag them down to their caves, which you might occasionally spot in the forest.
Of course, there is a lot more that I wish to tell you about like the Lost Village of The Kiiv, a village known to exist in the middle of that very forest. The village is said to be abandoned and haunted by the ghost of a singing lady, known as the Kiiv. As to what happens if you chance upon it, no one has a clue and no one cares.
It’s late here and I must sleep. Pay heed to my warnings and proceed with precaution. I promise I shall see you soon. But for now, keep reading my letters for they contain incomprehensible knowledge of places and people that I myself have seen and experienced with my own eyes.
Your Loving grandfather,
Kay.”
I don’t know if the letter is still lying in that hollow or if someone has found it and read it already. In any case, I didn’t wait long enough to find out for the minute I finished reading the letter, I dropped it and hastily packing my belongings and the remaining letters, I crawled out of that hollow and had just taken a step when a series of shrill laughs rang out all around me. My eyes widened with horror and without a moment’s hesitation, I dug my heels in the soft forest ground and set off through the forest at a mad pace. I didn’t look in any direction for fear that I might spot a giant shadow approaching or sight one of those fateful black-cloaked Ragged Cloaks. I whizzed past trees and over fallen branches.
I must have been running for quite some time and was certain that the end should be near and that is when the ground started to tremble, slightly at first, then violently. My heart was beating really fast and it felt as if I would pass out any moment. However, I suddenly remembered my greater purpose of wishing to see the Ancient Dragons and upon that moment, something strange happened and I redoubled my efforts and ran with a new energy coursing through my veins. All through my run, the ground trembled. The Giant Witches must have been giving me chase all this while, but I dared not looked around.
And very soon, my eyes met a welcome sight. I saw that the trees had started to thn in the distance and that I could see green fields. Dawn must have set in for an amber hue had started to invade the dark night sky towards the northern horizon.
“Where do you think you are going?” a shrill, yet grating voice sounded terribly close behind me and with a yell, I pushed my limits trying to run faster as the Giant Witches closed in on me.
Finally, I surfaced out of the forest and out into the wide, open fields where I stopped running and slowed down, even if that was some distance away from the edge of the forest. I whirled around and there, I saw three towering shadows standing still just in the reaches of the forest. I could not see their features or their faces for the shadows in the forest ran deep, but I most certainly could spot the momentary flash of the razor sharp teeth. The towering shadows turned and lumbered away, visibly disappointed.
I collapsed, exhausted. I was so tired that I could have slept through that entire day but I dared not, for even if I was out of Ungol, I was still dangerously close to its edge, close enough for those witches to step out and swoop me off the ground in my sleep. But I did allow myself a moment of rest. As I breathed heavily, I turned my head to the side and saw what looked like a short stick jutting out of the ground. I sat up to take a better look. Then, I reached out and placed my hand on it only to find that it was indeed something with brown clothes wrapped around it. With a sliver of realisation, I grabbed and pulled it out of the ground.
What it turned out to be brought tears to me eyes. It was my grandfather’s hunting dagger. It was proof that he had been here and that he had indeed survived the forest. I let out a cry of glee as I beheld the now rusted dagger, then I pulled it close to my chest where I held it for a while.
I was so relieved. I had survived the dreadful night, the cursed forest of Ungol and had appeared out on the other side where I had found proof of my grandfather’s experiences. The sun peeked over the edges of the faraway mountains lighting up my hunched form. I was truly in a state of happiness.
I had survived my first day out in the wilderness, and I did so for all the days to come.
“Alceifer, here I come.” I said as I looked at the sun.'
-Arthur Dragonlord
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