Good day!
The second edition of the second volume of The Chronicles of Aertu is fully edited and uploaded to the publishing site. I am waiting only on delivery of the cover design. That process is taking a bit longer that for the first volume, so it looks like the publication date may push to early June.
This volume required less revision than the first volume, more refinement than outright rewriting, though I did add one chapter, expanded the next, and added some additional reference material in the back of the book. The new chapter is inserted as Chapter Seven, with the old Seven renamed Eight, with an additional section at the end.
For those who read the first edition of Sign of the White Raven, I am including chapters Six, to get your bearings in the story, followed by Seven, and Eight from the second edition below:
Chapter 6
Sildaenday, Day 6, Harvest Moon, 8765 Sudean Calendar
Aleron and Eilowyn settled into their respective bedrolls, after his turn at watch; she woke to accompany him for his shift and they talked over the problems that kept them apart the previous day. With the few hours of relative privacy, they solidified a plan on marrying shortly after their return to Sudea and both felt better for settling the matter. He lay on his right side, still favoring the left shoulder, with Eilowyn tucked in behind him, between him and the fire and drifted off to sleep and into a dream, he dreamed many times before.
Here I am, once again, on the plain before the towering black fortress of Immin Bul. I am not myself, though still named Aleron. I see through the eyes of the first Aleron and I can feel him here with me, as if his thoughts are my thoughts and only a thin veil separates my mind from his. The slight rise I occupy affords a good view of the battle. Our front lines hold solid against the onslaught of goblins. The elves’ longbows have eliminated most of the trolls, having targeted them from the first moments of the battle. Goblins are relatively easy opponents for a well-organized military force, as are the wild men. Neither has any grasp of large-scale military tactics, but simply throw their numbers against the opposing force, with no thought of strategy. The Kolixtlani regulars present more of a problem, but faced with a Sunjibi shield wall, backed with the ten-foot pikes favored by westmen, they are unable to advance. Aelwynn, resplendent in the gilded breastplate and helm of his office, directs his elvish archers, ever searching for new targets. His long halberd glows with a faint blue light, visible only to those capable of wielding the massive power within. The greatsword resting on my shoulder glows with the same radiance. I know that if Aelwynn or I draw upon the power of our weapons, the glow will be visible to all, not just sorcerers. A rank of elvish spears backs my lines of shield and pike, inflicting the majority of casualties against the enemy line. The din of battle surrounds us with the clash of weapons, the screams and moans of the wounded and dying, but my mind is cool and detached. Connected to my leaders among the halfblood knights and seeing the whole battlefield in my mind, I sense the pendulum swing in our favor.
In the distance, the gates of Immin Bul open and another host issue forth, made up of creatures we had never before seen. Large goblins, well armored and armed, form uncharacteristically ordered ranks, while interspersed among them are clusters of what appear to be trolls, though smaller than the norm, hairless and covered instead with black reptilian scales, seemingly not armor, but their natural hide. The column turns to me and advances, likely sensing my position as the strongest point of our line. Front and center of the new force is a figure, taller even than the trolls. Clad in gleaming black plate and mail and wielding a massive battle-axe, glowing red, the figure reeks of malevolent power. So the Nameless God himself has decided to join the fray, with new abominations bred in the depths of Immin Bul. The rear half of the column splits, comes alongside either flank, and then the entire formation breaks into a trot. Easily five-hundred shields across and twenty ranks deep, ten-thousand fresh enemy troops advance on my position, with alarming speed. Dark boiling clouds form overhead, from a previously clear sky and orange-red lightning stabs down, opening gaping holes in our formation. Elvish and halfblood sorcerers quickly raise shields of blue energy to deflect further assault from the skies, while others fling bolts of the same energy at the approaching force, slicing through shield armor and flesh. Shafts of crimson flash out in answer from the rapidly closing force, obviously issuing from the knots of trolls. “Target the trolls,” I command my sorcerers and Aelwynn commands the same to his sorcerers and archers. The trolls must shield the enemy halfbloods. If we fail to cut down their sorcerers, we may still lose this battle, with the numbers on the field now even and the magic of death gaining every moment, as that of life dwindles. Flights of arrows and shafts of pure blue energy converge upon pockets of trolls, but new groups move forward, to take their place, scrambling over the dead bodies of their forerunners. The goblins and few trolls left to our front finally notice the force coming up from behind and they break and flee. Many prove to slow in their flight, cut down or trampled by the newcomers. As our lines finally meet, the Nameless God’s axe swings to and fro, taking out scores of men and elves. Raising my greatsword high in my right hand, I know it as Andhanimwhid, but here it is yet unnamed, I draw upon its immense power and send a searing bolt directly to the Adversary, but he shrugs off the attack as if it were a pebble thrown by a child.
Aelwynn has come alongside me, and I turn to meet my blood brother’s eyes of the clearest blue. We nod in unison and then turn to the Adversary and sprint, screaming the battle cries of Elvenholm and Sudea. If the Crown Prince of the Elves and the King of Sudea are to die this day, we will do so as brothers, attempting to save our world from the evil of the Nameless God and his minions. Thus, we meet the fallen god, trading blows, as our weapons afford us strength far exceeding our own unaided. We fight the Adversary to a standstill, as the battle rages around us and I sense the wailing of tormented souls, captured within the enemy’s fell blade. We must destroy that filthy portal to Hell, as soon as we defeat our opponent and relieve him of it. I spot a lucky opening and strike the Nameless One’s greave, cleaving deeply into his shin, but my blade is jammed, in metal or bone, I cannot tell. I see the axe descending. I have no means to block, but then darkness overtakes me. I feel no pain and can see nothing. My skin is not my skin. I am trapped within something and at first, I believe my spirit devoured by the Nameless God’s axe, but I am alone and not in torment. This place is filled with clean magic, not foul. I fear for my people, as well as the other free peoples. I may never know if we are victorious or defeated, free or enslaved. I am trapped in this place, I know not where, unable to feel any sensation.
After time interminable, I finally sense something outside of my prison. Someone reaches in for me, but who? Suddenly, joy fills me; it is my son, Beldan. I link to his mind, and I know what he knows. We are victorious, still free, but Aertu lies devastated. Tens of thousands of Sudeans dead, with hundreds of the halfblood noble caste lost in the fighting. The numbers of the elves are decimated. The Nameless God is imprisoned, defeated, but alive. Aelwynn lives, but Goromir has disappeared. I am no longer a man; I am Andhanimwhid, the Sign of the King.
The thin veil separating my being from that of the first Aleron thickens and solidifies, but a voice comes through with ice-cold clarity. “This will come to pass again, though not exactly as it was. The spiral of ages loops once again and only you may divert its course.” The voice is gone now and once again, I am only Aleron, from the village of Swaincott.
Aleron awoke with a start, as he always did from this dream. He knew what no one knew for a thousand years, and before that, only the Kings of Sudea. Andhanimwhid was Aleron, the first. He was sure of it. The dream was all too clear, and he understood its meaning after the second or third time he experienced it. Somehow, the sword stole Aleron’s spirit, before Zadehmal could take it. The dream came to him shortly after he touched the sword for the first time and had recurred several times over. There were other times that he dreamed other scenes from the ancient king’s life, but this was the most common one.
“Is everything alright?” Eilowyn asked, as the first light of dawn paled the eastern horizon. “You were mumbling in your sleep, and you jerked awake.”
“It was the dream again,” he replied, “the one where I’m the other Aleron and he tells me it’s coming around again.” He told Eilowyn of this dream before, as he had others, but never related the secret involving the sword.
“Was there anything new this time?”
“No, just the same old message that the final battle will be repeated, with me facing the Adversary.”
“And it still bothers you to hear that, after all this time?”
He turned over to face her, wincing when he put the weight on his injured shoulder. “Yes, it does, because it puts all the pressure on me. The dream always says that only I can change things to avoid another war like the one that killed Aleron. It scares me to think that the fate of so many people might hinge on me. I’m not that smart and I can’t figure out how I can change anything to avoid a war. If anything, I’ve only made things worse between Kolixtlan and Sudea.”
“That may be true, my love, but I do appreciate what you did to rescue me.” She leaned forward, placed a hand behind his head and kissed him soundly on the lips. Releasing him, but still resting her hand on his shoulder, she continued, “You are a very smart man, my love, and if the Allfather has placed his faith in you, then who are you to question Him? I have faith in you as well, dearest. What you lack is experience, not intelligence, the experience you will gain soon enough, when you return to rule Sudea. You are barely twenty and I doubt even the Allfather expects you to save Aertu from the Adversary this very minute.”
“Thank you, Ellie, for believing in me,” he said, pushing himself to sit up. He observed Geldun walking the perimeter in the dim light. Porridge slowly simmered over the low fire and the smell of the barley cooking set his stomach to grumbling. “But I feel it drawing near, whether or not I have the experience to deal with it. What if my powers never return, what then? Perhaps I made the wrong choice and the Allfather is even now moving on with a different plan. What if there is no other plan and I just bungled things to the point of no return? I haven’t the slightest idea what I could do if the Nameless one escapes his prison, much less how to keep that from happening in the first place.”
“Then, why would you still be having the dreams?” she asked, as she sat up as well. “You ramble on about the hopelessness, but the dreams still come, telling you otherwise. Let’s take things a day at a time, for now, and worry about all that when we get home. Your abilities will return, when they are fated to return, I am certain.”
“Do you believe in what the priests say about fate?”
“You, of all people should, Aleron. You cannot escape your fate, but you can shape it by your deeds. At least that’s what the priests of the Allfather tell us and I believe. Don’t you believe?”
“I do believe, Ellie. It’s just that I can’t see how this is part of the Allfather’s plan and my wrong decisions might leave Aertu in ruins, like the Great War, or worse, enslaved by the Adversary. You’re right; we do shape our fate, but am I shaping mine in the proper direction? The Nameless God should have accompanied his brothers and sisters and left Aertu, but he chose a different fate in disobeying his father. My fate may be to oppose him, but what if my choices turn out to be as wrong as his?”
“Make the best choices you know to and trust in your faith. That’s all you can do.” She pulled her boots on as she replied, and it was obvious to Aleron that she was done talking about this. She began rolling up her blankets and Aleron followed suit, pulling his own boots onto his feet.
Geldun strolled over to check on the porridge, testing a bit from the end of the stirring spoon. “Almost ready,” He announced. “Now what’s all this gibberish I’m hearing? We’re going to make it home, rest up for a while and then we’ll save the world, end of story. You just need to get your head out of your arse for all that to happen,” he finished, with a mischievous grin. As a reply, Aleron pitched a pinecone at his face. “Hey, not over the food!” he admonished as he dodged the projectile.
Barathol stirred at the commotion and clumsily rolled to his feet, just like a sleepy bear. The sight was always amusing, until one realized how dangerous a freshly roused bear could be. “I smell food; is it ready yet?”
“Almost,” Geldun answered. “By the time you’re dressed and packed, it will be.” He was already packed, aside from the cook pot. The others finished dressing, rolling up their bedding and packing everything but their bowls and spoons. Each had a large bowl of the porridge, which turned out to have bits of dried peach added and a strip of the salted meat. Once finished, they wiped the bowls and pot out with pine needles, deposited the refuse in the fire pit and filled it back in. After they all slung their burdens, each took a branch to sweep the pine needles, and twigs back over the area they cleared for their camp. They wished to leave as little evidence of their passing as possible. It was bad enough that they needed to hack through the undergrowth for the first half of the previous day. That was akin to drawing an arrow pointing in the direction they travelled. The pine forest allowed them to move far less obtrusively and this morning, they planned to take advantage of the situation by taking a more northerly heading until midday, to throw off any pursuit. They had a dual purpose in that though it might slow their reaching the border, they would avoid crossing the main road through the region at midday. Crossing in the evening, with most travelers settled in for the night, was a much safer option. With pursuit likely days behind, their biggest risks were random patrols and other smugglers who might use this same wilderness corridor for illicit trade with Sunjib. Compared to those risks, their pursuers and roving goblins were a distant third and fourth.
By the time the sun stood straight overhead, they had crossed two valleys and a ridge, finding them atop another ridge, running southeast to northwest, two ridges north of where they started that morning. They minimized peril from hacking through the dense undergrowth of the valleys by the slight trail they left between those sections. Anyone following would have no idea where the group decided to turn north, unless they were exceptional trackers, or if they had hounds and neither was likely. They resumed their original northwest heading that would take them to the border with the least hindrance, as an early spring thunderstorm boomed overhead. They were glad for the rain, cold and uncomfortable as it was since it worked to further mask their passage. The storm was heavy, if short lived, soaking through their cloaks and into their clothing. Aleron, taking his turn in leading the group, could feel a small rivulet running down his spine and soaking into the back of his trousers. As the rain tapered off, he suggested, “Let’s walk ourselves dry for another bell and break for lunch. The others voiced agreement, they continued onward, with the storm moving off to the west and drops of water falling from the boughs, glimmering in the shafts of sunlight that managed to reach the understory. The freshness in the air from the rain was soon replaced with the steaminess that usually follows a midday shower. The wet needles underfoot made their steps particularly silent, with the chatter and activity of squirrels and birds dominating the background noise. Once, a stag, the first stubs of this year’s antlers in velvet, startled them by bursting from his place of concealment, before they overran him. Otherwise, their luck seemed to be holding and they were alone in the forest.
Hours later, with the sun sinking below the western horizon, they concealed themselves in the tree line overlooking the road. A small patrol passed north, about two bells past, followed by a merchant train half a bell later. They had no way of knowing if the patrol might be looking for them, but it was unlikely for word to have preceded them. With the road in shadow and seeing no travelers for more than a bell, they made the dash across the open area, cleared fifty paces either side of the travelled portion. The clearing of the roadside occurred a couple years prior, and they chose an area with substantial new growth to shield their passage. Aleron and Barathol sprinted across first, checked the other side for danger and then Eilowyn followed them across. Geldun made one last check on their back trail, before sprinting across himself. After reforming, the group headed into the forest to find a place to camp before darkness overtook the land completely.
Chapter 7
Shilwezday, Day 8, Harvest Moon, 8765 Sudean Calendar
Eilowyn practiced with her bow, targeting an old rotted stump against a grassy bank for a backstop. She was determined to get better, after missing a shot at a large hare earlier that morning, relegating them to another meal of dried meat and fruit from their quickly dwindling supplies. Her quiver held three types of arrows, bodkins for use against armored opponents, broadheads for large game or unarmored enemies, and small game points with steel points shaped like inverted cones, the wide flat tip to deliver a killing shock, without going through the game. The types could be differentiated by sigh, having different colored fletching, or by feel, having one, two or three notches carved in the nocks. She practiced with the small game tips, as she noticed that each type flew differently, and practicing with bodkins, as she had previously, would not help her to bag a rabbit. She compared their flights and determined that she needed to move her point of aim up about a handspan at the twenty-pace range she currently practiced, to hit the same spot she had with a bodkin. The flat-tipped small game arrows dropped off much more quickly than the more aerodynamic types. Though she had figured out the proper aimpoint, she was still struggling with consistency.
“You need to work on your follow through,” she heard Aleron’s voice from behind her, right after she loosed her arrow. Turning to him, mildly annoyed at his unsolicited advice, her consternation dissolved at the sight of the earnest expression on his face. She knew him to be one of the least judgmental people she had ever met.
“I had the same problem in my first few years practicing with the bow, he continued. “Grandfather had the worst time with drilling it out of me. We would spend days on end focusing on nothing but archery, until he was so frustrated with me that he couldn’t help but move on to something else. I eventually figured it out.”
She realized that her betrothed was speaking of days around a decade prior when he spoke of his “first few years practicing”, when he was likely nine to eleven years old. “What am I doing wrong?” she asked. “What’s follow through?” She had always just shot her bow, never receiving much in the way of formal training.
“Your form is superb for target shooting, back straight, body turned to the side, bow plumb, draw hand elbow high, but you need to hold that after release. Keep the same pose until you see the arrow down-range. The slightest movement of your bow hand before the arrow is gone will throw off your shot.”
“Really?” she asked, disbelief in her expression. “The arrow is off in the blink of an eye.”
“Grandfather claimed he could see my bow wiggle, before the arrow was off the riser,” Aleron contended. “I think that is only from his elvish vision, though I had no idea of it at the time.”
“I suppose that makes sense,” she conceded. “So, you just hold like you’re still aiming until you see the arrow off to the target?”
“Pretty much,” he agreed. “Once you get used to that, we can practice some hunting and combat stances. Positions are different, but the principles are the same.”
“Show me,” she demanded, holding out the bow and drawing him a bodkin, then hesitating, “I’m sorry. I nearly forgot about your hurt shoulder.”
Aleron took the bow and the arrow from her and nocked the shaft to the string. “I should be all right,” he replied. “It’s been nine days, and this is a light bow.” Holding the shaft to the riser with his finger, he half-crouched, holding the bow at a near 45-degree angle, and loosed the arrow straight into the knot Eilowyn had been trying to hit. “That’s a hunting stance,” he stated, holding his hand out for another shaft. She handed him another, and he straightened, assuming a stance midway between his hunting stance, and a target stance. “This is more of a battle stance,” he continued. “It’s more relaxed than target, and you can loose a lot of arrows in a hurry.” He took her arrow, plugged it next to the last one he shot and held his hand out for another. Within six heartbeats, he launched the remainder of her dozen bodkins into a small circle about the first knot he hit. “Let’s go get the arrows, and I’ll show you one more.”
Returning to their shooting position, he fished an ivory ring from his pocket and slipped it onto his right thumb. “This is a Chebek style, though it’s also used across Chu, Talik and Adar.” He turned his back to the target, placed the arrow on the right side of the bow’s riser, opposite to the southern form he was using prior, twisted over his left shoulder, and loosed an arrow into the stump. “That probably wasn’t such a good idea,” he said, rubbing his left shoulder. “It doesn’t like bending that far yet. Anyway, that one is for shooting from horseback. It allows you to shoot directly behind you as you ride.”
“Thank you, smart-ass,” Eilowyn replied, like it wasn’t enough for him to likely be the second-best fighter in Aertu, trained by the best to ever live. He didn’t need to rub her face in it. “That should be a lesson to you about being a showoff.”
“Sorry,” he replied, looking abashed. “I didn’t mean to be an ass.”
“It’s all right,” Eilowyn replied, “I realize you know a lot about fighting. Just one thing…I need you to teach me how.”
Right then, Geldun came stomping up to them. “What in Isselle’s name do you think you’re doing?” he shouted. “I told you not to risk reinjuring that shoulder but here you are, shooting a bow!” he berated his friend.
“I’m fine Gel. My shoulder is much better today.”
“Not if you aggravate it. I saw you rubbing it after that last shot. Maybe you should stick to normal shooting, if you’re going to be too dense to lay off it entirely,” Geldun answered, a bit less angrily. “You are not ready to twist like that. Now go retrieve that arrow. Lunch is ready.”
As they all settled in their places, Barathol stated, “I can’t wait until we can get a proper dinner again. These light lunches are not the most satisfying.”
“Yeah, but we don’t have time for the post dinner nap either,” Aleron half agreed. “We can cover more ground eating light.”
“Plus, we don’t have the supplies for it,” Geldun added.
“I’ll hit that rabbit next time,” Eilowyn interjected, taking the trend in conversation a bit personally.
“That’s not what I was trying to say Ellie,” Barathol apologized. “We all miss sometimes.”
“He doesn’t,” she countered, pointing her chin at Aleron as she said it.
“He doesn’t count,” Geldun explained. “Barry is talking about the rest of us, not the wizard.”
Barathol and Eilowyn chuckled at the quip, while Aleron only looked embarrassed at the attention.
Following a several minutes lull in the conversation, where everyone concentrated on their food, Aleron suggested, “On the subject of moving, we ought to get this cleaned up and ourselves back on the trail.”
“I suppose…” Barathol agreed, rolling ponderously to his feet.
The rest followed suit, gathered up their belongings and repacked their rucksacks, or bundle, in Aleron’s case.
They set out again, this time with Geldun leading, Barathol in the rear, Eilowyn and Aleron in the middle.
“Were you asking for me to teach you to fight, When Gel so rudely interrupted?” Aleron asked Eilowyn.
“Yes, I was.”
“That’s not usual,” he replied, “for a lady to train to fight…”
“I don’t care what’s usual, or what’s proper,” she responded. “I will not be the damsel in distress from those sappy romance novels my sisters like to read. If I knew how to fight, I may have been able to get away from those scoundrels who abducted me.”
“That, or gotten yourself killed, or badly injured,” he countered.
She glared at him, causing him to wilt slightly, before answering, “I will not be helpless any longer. You can teach me how to use a sword, and this knife or I’ll get Barry or Gel to teach me.”
“All right, I’ll teach you. But I’ll still protect you or die trying.”
“That’s fine, too. You do make a good hero for those terrible stories,” she said with a grin. “If we make it home, I’m sure someone will write one about it.”
“Pray to the Allfather that they don’t,” he replied, grinning as well.
Chapter 8
Zorekday, Day 12, Harvest Moon, 8765 Sudean Calendar
Karsh saw to the transfer of supplies from the carts to the sleds. The two arduous weeks of overland travel had weighed heavily on the dogs and drivers alike. Men and Arkans moved the food and equipment across the rocky ground to the stable sea ice, where the sleds awaited. They would set up the tents for three days, to allow the dogs and men to recover their strength. The flinty ground wore on the animal’s paws and many of them favored one or more. Often as not, the carts moved by men and Arkans pushing, as much as by the dogs pulling. Karsh understood the issue with the dogs, but had difficulty understanding the men’s weariness, since they had the advantage of boots. Arkans handled the exertion better than frail humans did and Zormat’s group could easily have continued non-stop. Not that I’ll complain about a few days of rest, he thought, but the sooner they moved, the sooner they could return with the axe, free the One True God and get on with the conquest.
Three days of rest for the sled dogs, necessary, but infuriating, Zormat surmised. They needed this mission to move forward, without delay. In half a year, the entire Arkan war fleet would arrive, to coincide with the return of Zadehmal to the One True God and the conquest of this continent would begin in earnest. After the continent, his forces could turn their attentions to finding and subduing Elvenholm. He was certain he and his father could find the hidden path. It could not be much different from the weaves of magic that kept Arkus hidden. Everyone knew where the homeland of the elves must lie, but none could sail to it but the elves themselves. Pilots of men had often charted courses due west on the equator, only to find themselves sailing into the Castian Sea, after months on the ocean, as if sailing directly through where Elvenholm must be. It will be interesting to unravel that particular warding. Common conception said that his father’s siblings created the wards to conceal the elves from him. Zormat needed to find his way through them, lest the elves have a staging area from which to launch attacks indefinitely.
“Have you any word of the King, Lord Steward?” Ambassador Baruk inquired, taking his seat across from Gealton’s desk. He met with the Thallasian ambassador one to two times per week. He knew him to be a courageous young officer, the first of his people to venture to Sudea, suing for peace and alliance in the wake of the Arkan’s appearance. The alliance proved invaluable these last five years, with the increased aggression of the Kolixtlanis and Adaris, prompted by the Arkans, he was certain.
“Unfortunately, nothing directly, Ambassador,” the Steward answered. In the weeks since Aleron departed, after declaring for the throne, word of the event spread like a grass fire at the height of summer. Eilowyn had been missing since spring and autumn was upon them. He wished for some word, anything of the fate of his daughter. By now, everyone in Sudea who did not live under a rock knew that the throne had been reclaimed, but still no word of his daughter’s fate. “We do, however, have word of some sort of unrest in Kolixtlan. According to rumors, the King there is dead, from an attack that nearly brought down a portion of the palace. The Castian border is crawling with Kolixtlani troops, nearly stopping the flow of smugglers that the Castians rely on for intelligence.” He was sure the attack was Aleron’s doing and sincerely hoped it hadn’t been in retaliation for his daughter’s treatment.
Baruk must have thought the same, for he asked, “The king is betrothed to your daughter, is he not? Do you suppose he struck out of revenge?”
“I hope against hope it was for her escape and not to avenge her death,” Gealton replied, obvious worry in his eyes. “Hadaras warned the lad is powerful, perhaps the most powerful halfblood in four-thousand years. I think, if vengeance were his aim, the palace would be rubble, rather than nearly toppled, as the reports state.”
“That is good news, I suppose, though it wouldn’t break my heart to hear he leveled the city. The blasted Kolixtlani and Adari refuse to learn from the mistakes of their forebears.”
“As much as I want to see Kolixtlan fall, I would not wish it at that cost. I cannot believe the whole of the country is corrupt. They were a goodly people once, long ago and I hope not to slaughter innocents as a means to an end. If we remove the head, perhaps the body can be salvaged.”
“That is a thought,” Baruk conceded. “I have given little thought to the possibility of reforming Kolixtlan or Adar. The problem is mainly with the kings, who are puppets and the priests, holding the strings. Remove the ones pulling the strings and the puppet collapses.”
“Is that how it worked with your people?” Gealton inquired.
“More or less,” he agreed. “We were pirates, way back before the war and had no use for kings, but somehow, we let ourselves believe that we needed one. I’m sure that was the Adversary’s work. With a king, came the priests and with them together, came an unwinnable war.” He paused to take a sip from his wine. It was a very good vintage and he savored it on his tongue, before allowing himself to swallow. “Once the war ended, we rose up and did away with kings and priests. We went back to the way it used to be.”
“You’re not pirates anymore.”
“No, that could only last so long, before our neighbors, you included, would have done away with us. I’m a bit surprised that Castia did not move against us in those first centuries after the war. The desert and the mountains protected us, for the most part, from land invasion, so we defended our territorial waters with fierceness.”
“I think the entire world was tired of war, the forces of darkness included. All sides lost dearly. I would suspect your origins in piracy led to the current organization of your government?”
“Indeed, pirates rise to power through their ability, not their birth, so a more military arrangement was inevitable, I suppose, especially considering our experience with having a king.”
“We had a bit better luck with our kings when we had them. With your experience, I’m not surprised that you came up with the sort of meritocracy you did,” Gealton agreed. “It’s interesting to see it on such a scale. Usually, one only sees such an arrangement amongst smaller tribes. Even the Elmenians have a hereditary aspect to the choosing of their clan chiefs. Your people don’t balk under military rule?”
“Technically, we are all in the military, from the age of fourteen, Baruk explained. “If one chooses a profession requiring leadership, anyone can progress and achieve the High Admiralty.”
“Those professions being the traditional combat roles, I take it?
“Usually, though we had a Quartermaster advance to the position, in my grandfather’s time.”
“What of your wizard’s guild? Are they a part of the military, as well?”
“They are a notable exception, but as such, they are allowed no direct political power, though they often try to influence from the sidelines.”
“A safeguard to avoid ever being led by sorcerers again, I assume.”
“Exactly that, they are contracted and paid for their services, when needed and otherwise allowed to go about their business. We have needed them aboard our ships, since the coming of the Arkans, so the guild’s coffers have been swelling more than ever these past years. I don’t really care for it myself, but the measure was necessary. If we were to bring them onto our military structure, we would be forced to award them rank, which we refuse to do.”
“Does it concern your people at all, that our new king may be the most powerful sorcerer in Aertu?”
“Even among the elves?”
“If Hadaras was correct, then yes, even among the elves.”
“Well, we don’t really care about anyone’s politics, as long as they don’t try to force them upon us. You can have who you want for a king.”
“Well, it concerns me,” the Steward admitted. “Plenty of the halfbloods of old turned to darkness when last the Adversary walked Aertu. If the most powerful of them does and has a claim to the throne, giving him access to our army and navy, I fear all will be lost.”
“Are you truly worried that the enemy may sway him?”
“Only for the fact that he has sent no communication,” he responded. “He’s a fine young man, raised well, but if the Kolixtlani priests managed to capture him and discovered who he is, there is no telling what they could do to turn him.”
“A valid concern, I suppose,” the Ambassador agreed, “but why would you allow him the throne, if that came to pass?”
“I don’t know if it is possible to turn a person against his will, or not, but it occurs to me that they could do so and release him, along with my daughter, making it look like a legitimate escape.”
“Then, he could assume the throne without suspicion. I understand now.”
“I’m not sure how we will be able to tell, when and if they return, but we will need to think of something to assure he is not turned to the Adversary.”
“I will think on it, as well,” Baruk offered, “as a friend, though I know little about such things, but for now, I must take my leave, Lord Steward. There is much I must prepare for my successor’s arrival.”
“Thank you, Ambassador and once again, congratulations on your promotion to Grand Ambassador, though I am sorry to see it take you from us.”
“It pains me to leave as well, but the High Admiral needs organizing the Diplomatic Corps off from his plate, and I am the most senior. Besides, I have not seen my home in five years. It is high time for me to get back.”
“Best of luck with your preparations, I will see you again, before you go, so this is not yet goodbye.”
“Until next time then,” Baruk said, as he took leave of the Steward, closing the dark polished oak door as he entered the white marble corridor. Gealton now maintained his office just off the old royal hall, rather than the one just off from the kitchens, as he did when Baruk first came to Arundell. Therefore, the ambassador had a long walk to his chambers in the diplomatic wing, with plenty of time to think on recent events. I certainly hope the King returns, before I have to leave. I would like at least an idea of what sort of man he is, before I hand over my mission. If not, my successor must know what to do if things go sour here.
After five years in the capital, Baruk had gathered eyes and ears within the palace and without. It was always easy to find some who would betray their loyalties for a little coin, often surprisingly little, especially if it seemed only a small betrayal, barely more than gossip. Baruk knew much about every noble in Arundell and several outside the city. His countrymen needed information on who was weak and strong among the powerful of Sudea. Thallasia was committed to this alliance, but still ready to bolt like a gazelle from a pack of wolves, if the rule of Sudea went awry. Several of his personal retinue were really assassins, ready to remove anyone who threatened Thallasian interests. Fortunately, he had not needed that recourse, up to now.
Baruk did not know this Aleron, from any other Sudean soldier. He had seen him, on occasion, visiting the Steward’s daughter and the name came up with some frequency, on the topic of prominent fighters gaining a reputation from the numerous skirmishes in the north. The young man’s announcement, claiming the throne, came as a surprise to everyone but Gealton, in the wake of his daughter’s abduction. The sudden announcement, followed by his immediate move on Kolixtlan, seemed to indicate a man of action, but hopefully not overly rash. Baruk could appreciate some rashness, considering the nature of the situation and if the new king was as powerful a wizard as Gealton seemed to believe, he likely believed he could maintain the upper hand, even with the tiny force of two retainers. I hope he did maintain the upper hand, otherwise, it will prove worse for the stability of this land than if he had never shown himself. Sudea fared one-thousand years without a king, under the stable hand of the stewards. To give them the king they waited a millennium for, only to take him away again, could do nothing less than demoralize the nation, just when their allies needed them strong. It might even ignite a fight for succession that would not have occurred otherwise. He hoped, for the sake of the alliance between their nations that the king return safely.
Arriving at his quarters, he found Korella waiting for him in his sitting room. She had a key to his apartment, as they were a couple for nearly two years now. The pretty little blonde woman lounged upon his divan, two goblets of chilled white wine on the side table, condensation glistening on their surfaces.
“How is my cousin today?” she inquired, straightening, and beckoning him to sit beside her. She was the steward’s second cousin, through her mother.
“Gealton is fine, though rightfully worried for his daughter’s safety,” he replied as he leaned his unbelted sword against the sofa, sat next to her, and accepted the goblet she handed him. “We have reports of significant unrest in Kolixtla, serious physical damage to the palace,” he continued. “We are both hoping it was from a successful rescue and not revenge on the king’s part.”
“We must hope for that,” she concurred. “Eilowyn is a sweet girl, and it would be a tragedy if anything were to befall her. Aleron always seemed a most agreeable boy. I wouldn’t think him quick to anger, but he does love the girl, very obviously. And, he has a fearsome reputation on the battlefield.”
“Love can lead one to rash actions,” Baruk agreed. “On that note, are you certain you wish to accompany me back to Thallasia? Corin is a lovely city, but it is no Arundell. I’m afraid you will find only boredom there.”
“Boring or not, if that is where you are, that is where I need to be, My Love,” she answered, reaching an arm around his neck to pull him into a kiss.
***
Eilowyn lunged at Aleron with the cut branch she used as a practice dagger for sparring. The thickest portion served as the hilt, with a pair of side branches forming the guard, and another foot of branch the blade. Aleron blocked her thrust with his own identical practice weapon, held in an icepick grip, pushed forward to rake the tip along her arm and into her armpit, as the momentum of her thrust carried her forward. He pivoted slightly, placed his off-hand palm against the butt of the hilt and ‘gently’ shoved, careful to not actually hurt her…much. She cursed as she stumbled, nearly falling to her knees, just managing to maintain her footing.
“That was stupid,” she muttered, as she spun to face him, flipping her blade into an icepick grip as well. In a real fight, that blunder would have left her with arm laced open and the right lung punctured, ending the fight, and likely her life.
“Yes,” Aleron agreed, “but you are getting better. I barely dodged that thrust,” he admitted.
She was learning fast. Aleron discovered her to be quick, agile, and surprisingly strong. Her offense was coming along well, but her defense lagged behind. She tended to overextend, as she had just done, leaving herself open to counterattack when her offensive moves were blocked.
Barathol and Geldun looked on with amusement, Barathol shouting, “Good going Ellie! You almost tagged him there!”
She grinned back at the two men, nearly forgetting her embarrassment at her failure. “I’ll get you eventually, Love,” she told Aleron.
Here is the back material that was adjusted for the second edition, with two appendices not present in the first edition, along with some error corrections to the historical timeline, and dates of the prophecies. I apologize for the appearance of the timeline. The table formatting does not carry over well to the blog.
Appendix B
Comparative Timelines of Dwarves, Elves, Sudeans, and Arkans
| MAJOR EVENT | ELVISH CALENDAR | SUDEAN CALENDAR | DWARVISH CALENDAR | ARKAN CALENDAR |
| CREATION OF THE WORLD. | BILLIONS OF YEARS BRH (Before Recorded History) | |||
| ELVES CREATED. | ~6000 BRH | ~7255 BRH | ~5830 BRH | ~10635 BRH |
| MEN, WESTMEN AND DWARVES CREATED. | ~5000 BRH | ~6255 BRH | ~4830 BRH | ~9635 BRH |
| DWARVES BEGIN WRITTEN RECORDS. | 170 BRH | 1425 BRH | YEAR 0 | ~4805 BRH |
| GODS APPEAR TO ELVES | YEAR 0 | 1255 BRH | 170 | ~4635 BRH |
| DWARVES MIGRATE TO BLUE MOUNTAINS. | 971 | 624 BRH | 1141 | ~3664 BRH |
| GODS LEAVE ELVES, APPEARING TO MEN, WESTMEN AND DWARVES. | 1255 | YEAR 0 | 1425 | ~3380 BRH |
| GODS DEPART WORLD. | 1755 | 500 | 1925 | ~2880 BRH |
| DWARVES BEGIN TO COLONIZE GREEN AND WHITE MOUNTAINS. | 1760 | 505 | 1930 | ~2875 BRH |
| ELVES REACH CONTINENT. | 1867 | 612 | 2037 | ~2768 BRH |
| GREEN MOUNTAIN KINGDOM OF DWARVES ESTABLISHED. | 1990 | 735 | 2160 | ~2645 BRH |
| WHITE MOUNTAIN KINGDOM OF DWARVES ESTABLISHED. | 2032 | 777 | 2202 | ~2603 BRH |
| SUDEA DECLARES INDEPENDENCE. ELVES WITHDRAW FROM CONTINENT. | 3886 | 2631 | 4056 | ~749 BRH |
| ADVERSARY RETURNS TO WORLD. ELVES RETURN TO CONTINENT. | 4514 | 3259 | 4684 | ~121 BRH |
| ADVERSARY ESTABLISHES ARKUS | 4635 | 3380 | 4805 | YEAR 0 |
| BEGIN THE GREAT WAR OF THE FREE PEOPLES AGAINST THE ADVERSARY. | 6000 | 4745 | 6170 | 1365 |
| THE ADVERSARY DEFEATED, ENDING THE GREAT WAR. DEATH OF ALERON I . | 6004 | 4749 | 6174 | 1369 |
| SECOND CLEANSING OF ARKUS | 6115 | 4860 | 6285 | 1480 |
| KING ALAGRIC IV OF SUDEA DIES WITH NO HEIR. | 9000 | 7745 | 9170 | 4365 |
| WRITING OF SUDEAN HISTORY: YEAR 8000 EDITION. | 9255 | 8000 | 9425 | 4620 |
| WRITING OF DWARVISH HISTORY: YEAR 10,000 EDITION. | 9830 | 8575 | 10000 | 5195 |
| WRITING OF ELVISH HISTORY: YEAR 10,000 EDITION. BIRTH OF ALERON II. | 10,000 | 8745 | 10,170 | 5365 |
Appendix C
Myths, Legends, and Prophecies
The Allfather Creates Aertu and the Nameless One Rebels
According to the elves recounting of their teachings from the aelir, at the beginning of time the Allfather, creator of all things, begat the universe from incoherent matter. He created the multitudes of stars in the night sky. He beheld the beauty in what He had created from nothingness, but it gave him no comfort, for it still seemed cold and empty. The Creator fashioned beings like unto himself, in the forms of male and female, for He remembered his Sisters as well as his Brothers and wished to create a family like unto the one from whence He came. These first children, the aelir, numbered fourteen in all and equally matched, consisting of seven male and seven female, not truly brothers and sisters, but intended to pair and multiply. This celestial family coexisted happily for uncounted ages, with only the stars as companions. They travelled widely, marveling at their Father’s creation. The male and female of his children coupled and over the course of the ages begat untold thousands of offspring, the aelient, like unto themselves, but of lesser stature. This was the natural state for these beings, and they did just as their Father had, before coming of age in his Mother’s universe. These first children were not destined to stay forever in their Father’s cosmos but would someday come of age and create their own to their own liking. Their offspring, however, begat of their Father’s universe, would remain forever tied unto it.
As is the way of stars, some grew old and died. From their death were born new stars. It was at this age that the Allfather knew the time had arrived for the next stage of his creation. About one likely star, He congealed the formless gasses into balls of matter, glowing hot like steel from the crucible, spinning around the star. He did the same about many other stars and left them to cool for eons untold. One day, He returned, with his children and grandchildren in tow and said, “See all of you the many worlds I have made here unto this star. Only one of them will be suitable for our purposes next.” He then led them to the third small rocky world from the star and said unto his children and grandchildren, “Behold that which is to be the fruit of my Creation.”
His children did not yet understand, and one said unto his Father, “Why this one Father, for there are much larger and more beautiful worlds further out than this one. It is plain, dark, and uninteresting with its steaming pools and black rocks.”
“Ah my child, you do not yet understand our purpose. Though still rough yet, it will be as a jewel when we are finished. Let us go down and shape this rough new world to our liking.”
The Allfather proceeded to separate the land from the sea. He brewed monumental storms over the seas and used the rain and winds to carve the highest mountains, wearing them flat and then raising new mountains in their place. Thus was barren rock turned to soil over the course of untold ages. When at last it was ready, He said, “Come my children, let us bring life unto this fertile world we have before us.”
“What is life, oh Father?” they asked in unison.
“I will show you now,” He told them, as He took up water from the sea and bent His will to it. The first life sprang forth in His cupped palms. His children saw and were amazed, and He was glad for that but then admonished them, “My children, do not attempt to bring forth beings like unto yourselves into this world, for that is my prerogative. Make all forms of plant and beast but save for me the beings who will rule over them. My grandchildren, do not attempt to bring forth life as your parents do, for if you succeed, your creations will be flawed. Instead, it is your destiny to inhabit this world and others that we build, so that you may watch over them as caretakers.”
With that instruction, the children of the Creator made all the life in the seas, then they made all the life on land. What had been barren rock and steaming pools, became green hills and valleys, white capped mountains, and crystal blue waters. The world had indeed become like unto a jewel.
At the point where the world had been populated with all manner of life, one of the children became so enamored of their handiwork that he begged of the Creator, “Father, please, may I have this world as my own? I love it so and wish to watch over it and care for it for all the ages that are yet to be.”
The Creator knew that this could not be so and saw through his son’s plea to the covetousness that lay beneath the request. “Do not ask this of me, as it cannot be so. Your purpose is to create a universe of your own when you are grown. In due time, you will be able to create worlds and populate them, just as I have done. Do not thwart your own destiny, just to possess a portion of mine.”
The errant child, much chagrined by his Father’s reprimand, grumbled loudly to his brethren and their children over the unfairness of the Creator’s decision. His brethren rebuked him as well for his disobedience to their Father, however, he swayed many of the grandchildren with his words and they became his followers. Secretly, he preached to his following of the unfairness of the Creator’s prohibition on them to create living things. He taught to them the way to accomplish it and together they created all manner of despicable creatures, for it was true, as the Creator had said, that the creations of the grandchildren would be imperfect and flawed.
Soon enough, the others discovered that the beautiful world they had created was beset with foul creatures that crawled in dark places. The beasts were beset upon by biting things, parasites, and disease. The plants died from fungus, rot, and ravenous creatures. The Creator was not pleased with what He beheld and asked of his children, “Who among you is responsible for these foul creatures? They are a disgrace and a disfigurement upon our beautiful world.” None spoke up to own to the wrongdoing. The Creator looked into the hearts of his children and when He came to the one who had disobeyed him said, “Do you think you can hide the truth from me, my disobedient son?”
“It was not I who disobeyed you, Father. I have always been your faithful servant,” the son lied.
“Do you think I cannot look into your heart and see the truth? You add lies as well to your treason. I have seen now what you have done, and that you have drawn my children’s children into your disobedience. Get thee gone from my sight, never to return and those of your following who refuse to repent.” The disobedient son left the presence of his Father and his brethren, taking with him the grandchildren who would follow. Though many rebellious grandchildren repented, begged for forgiveness, and returned to the fold, most did not and followed the disobedient son. All told, he brought one third of the grandchildren with him, into exile.
The other children then proclaimed, “Father, we must rid this world of all the vile things our brother has brought into being.”
“That cannot be so,” the Creator replied. “That which has been brought into being must not be destroyed out of hand and must be allowed to follow its natural course. We will give our creatures a means to defend against the
creatures of your brother, who will not be named. Now our beautiful world will be marked by strife forever more.”
Soon after, the Allfather discovered that the one who will not be named had done that which was unthinkable. He had created creatures after his own likeness, as was to be the sole prerogative of his Father. Like the creatures of his followers, these were fraught with imperfection, and he made many attempts, failing each time. Now, gruesome creatures of dim intelligence and evil disposition stalked the dark places of the world, wreaking havoc among the beauty of creation.
Eltheri Prophesy
Darkness shall envelope the world and the mighty shall fall to contain the nameless shadow.
Though the light shall seem victorious, it is but the start of the waning.
The tree appears dead; yet one branch lives on, hidden among the weeds, and the fruit of the living branch shall be chosen above all others when the nameless shadow shall walk the world again.
The chosen will carry my power and might and shall be the only hope against the nameless shadow.
Should the shadow consume the fruit of the living branch, all is lost, but the chosen may turn the darkness to light.
-Elther the Enlightened
Roughly two years prior to arrival of the aelir
Recorded at the High Temple of Cyte
Year 500, Elvish Calendar
Halfblood Prophecy
The strength of the halfbloods fails; the line of kings dies.
The might of the halfbloods is but a distant memory.
Millennia shall pass, before another comes to reclaim past glory.
From the weeds, a hidden seed sprouts; the tree grows anew.
The glory of the halfbloods comes at great cost.
Darkness seeks to swallow light at every turn.
-Duran the Mad Hermit
Recorded by Ethelred
Scribe of the Great Temple of Iesenholdt
Year 3254, Sudean Calendar
Arkan Prophecy
The One True God needs no other name; no other gods shall come before Him.
He is the beginning and the end; all the world is His dominion.
You, my offspring, His chosen people, shall rule this world and all that inhabits it, in His name.
Always, shall you follow His commandments, for should you fail Him in that, a new people shall be chosen to rule in His name and a new champion shall lead them to glory.
-Ghizmuk the Last Quarter-goblin
First Seer and Revelator to the Arkans
Recorded at the Executioner’s Block
The Second Cleansing
Year 1480 Arkan Calendar
Appendix D
Sentient Beings of Aertu
Immortals
THE ALLFATHER: Creator of the universe
THE AELIR: First children of the Allfather, each were destined to create a new universe upon maturity. Numbering fourteen, seven male and seven female, they pair-bonded prior to maturity, producing offspring known as aelient. Men commonly venerate them as gods and goddesses. Sent by the Allfather, the aelir came to elves and men as teachers, assisting them in building complex societies and advancing knowledge.
Gurlach: God of the Forge/Metalworking
Finle: Goddess of the Loom/Weaving
Shilwez: God of Husbandry/Livestock
Cerdae: Goddess of Agriculture/Crops
Corball: God of the Sword/Law
Andulle: Goddess of the Bow/Government
Carpath: God of Numbers/Mathematics
Faelwe: Goddess of Scrolls/Writing
Sildaen: God of Stone/Engineering
Lillane: Goddess of the Hearth/Cities
Zorek: God of the Sea/Fishing
Korelle: Goddess of Wind/Sailing
Nameless One: God of Evil/Adversary (Intended God of Philosophy)
Iselle: Goddess of Mercy/Medicine
THE AELIENT: The offspring resulting from the pairings male and female aelir, produced during the period preceding creation of worlds, to serve as caretakers of the finished worlds after the departure of the Allfather and aelir. Numbering in the thousands they manifest as various nature spirits, often forming attachments to land and water features. They taught elves and men to live in the wild, before the arrival of the aelir. Fully one-third of the aelient followed the Adversary into rebellion against the Allfather and remain under his sway.
Mortal Peoples of the Allfather
ELVES
NATIVE TO: Elvenholm (The Western Isle)
LIFESPAN: 3000+ years
ATTRIBUTES: Elves range from five and one half to six and one half-feet-tall and weigh 100 to 200 pounds. They are generally human-like in appearance, with a slight pointed shape to the ears; clear fair skin color, never freckled; hair color white through black, but never red, located head and groin region only, always straight, with males beardless. Very quick and lightweight for their size, they are omnivorous, with fair night vision.
NOTES: Elves are not immortal, but extremely long-lived, with some individuals greatly exceeding the minimum life span of 3000 years. All elves possess some degree of ability for sorcery.
MEN
NATIVE TO: Northeast and South of Continent
LIFESPAN: 50+ years
ATTRIBUTES: Men range in height from five to seven feet tall, weighing 100 to 250 pounds. Heavier than elves of similar size, but not significantly stronger, men appear clumsy, in comparison. They are regionally variable in size and appearance, with skin color ranging from fair, sometimes freckled, to dark brown, approaching black; hair color ranges from pale blond, through browns and red, to black, texture from straight to tightly curled, males usually bearded and body hair distribution is highly variable. They are omnivorous, with poor night vision.
NOTES: According to historical records, pale skin, and hair colors other than dark brown through black, did not exist in men prior to their contact and intermingling with elves and are most common within the historical borders of the Sudean Kingdom. Lighter shades of brown skin, with straight black hair, are natural to northeastern populations, while a similar, though darker skinned, physical type is native to Kolixtlan and the central jungle. Populations south of the inland sea and the Blue Mountains were originally dark brown skinned, with curly hair, prior to elvish colonization. Sudean populations assimilated many of the outward physical traits of the Elves, while the traits of longevity and sorcerous ability consistently passed on only in populations maintaining greater than 50% elvish ancestry.
WESTMEN
NATIVE TO: Northwest of Continent
LIFESPAN: 50+ years
ATTRIBUTES: Westmen range in height from five to six feet tall and weigh 150 to 250 pounds. They are extremely heavy boned and muscular, far more powerful than men or elves, great sprinters, but poor distance runners. Their skin color is fair, sometimes freckled; hair color ranged from blond, through browns and red, to black, texture straight to wavy, males bearded, and body hair distribution varies. Heavy brow ridges, large noses, large teeth, and chinless jaws characterize their facial features. They are omnivorous, with poor night vision.
NOTES: Considered by elves to be a variety of men, there has been little to no intermingling of their populations with those of other men for over 10,000 years. According to the dwarves, whose records extend that far, their immense strength is due to their method of hunting large game by ambush, prior to becoming civilized.
DWARVES
NATIVE TO: Iron Hills, Northwest of Continent; migrated to Blue, Green and White Mountain ranges
LIFESPAN: 80+ years
ATTRIBUTES: Dwarves range in height from four and one half to five feet, weighing 150 to 250 pounds. Their skin color is fair to brown, sometimes freckled, hair color ranges from blond, through browns and red, to black, texture straight to curly, males heavily bearded, with heavy body hair. Heavy brow ridges, large noses, large teeth, and prominent chins characterize their facial features. They are omnivorous, with fair night vision.
NOTES: Dwarves may have originated from an intermingling of westmen and men, in prehistoric times, or as an independent branch of the family. By appearance, they seem more closely related to westmen, who were their close neighbors in prehistoric times. Their short stature may be an adaptation to their inclination for underground habitation. They shelter exclusively in caverns, often enlarging them substantially through mining. Dwarves were the first race to develop writing and forge metals, preceding Elves in those respects and are the most skilled in metal and stonework of all peoples.
Mortal Creatures of the Adversary
TROLLS
NATIVE TO: All mountain ranges of Continent
LIFESPAN: 300+ years
ATTRIBUTES: Trolls are seven to ten-foot-tall bipeds with short tails, weighing 500 to 1000 pounds. Thick fur covers their bodies, with small areas of exposed skin on face and hands, reptilian in appearance and mouths filled with sharp reptilian teeth.
NOTES: Usually solitary, sheltering in caves and overhangs in mountainous areas, individuals native to higher latitudes and elevations are larger and lighter colored than those from lower latitudes and elevations. They practice primitive stone tool making, to include thrusting spears, clubs, and hand axes, but no known use of fire. Trolls are carnivorous, with excellent night vision.
HALF-TROLLS
NATIVE TO: North foothills, Blue Mountains; Castia, Kolixtlan, Elven Colony and Central Jungle
LIFESPAN: 200+ years
ATTRIBUTES: Six to eight-foot-tall humanoids, with vestigial tail, half-trolls weigh 250 to 400 pounds. Their skin, dark green to black in color, appears reptilian overall, with hair only on head and groin region. They have humanlike teeth, with prominent canines and are omnivorous, with excellent night vision.
NOTES: Believed to derive from the crossbreeding of smaller varieties of trolls to westmen, half-trolls appear much more humanlike in behavior than trolls. They engage in advanced tool making, to include ironworking, use fire, build shelters, fabricate crude clothing, and congregate in small bands.
GOBLINS
NATIVE TO: All forested regions of Continent
LIFESPAN: 60+ years
ATTRIBUTES: These four to five-foot-tall humanoids weigh 100 to 150 pounds, with greenish black, smooth hairless skin, a slightly stooped posture, with apelike gait, and an apelike face, with prominent canines. They are omnivorous, with excellent night vision.
NOTES: Goblins are semi-arboreal, though known to shelter in caverns where available. They employ advanced tool making, to include ironworking, use fire, fabricate crude clothing, build shelters, often occupying caves as well and congregate in large bands.
HOBGOBLINS
NATIVE TO: Kolixtlan and Central Jungle
LIFESPAN: 70+ years
ATTRIBUTES: Five to six-foot-tall humanoid, hobgoblins weigh 100 to 200 pounds, having light to dark brown skin with a greenish tinge, straight black hair on head and groin region, a fully upright posture, and a humanlike face, with prominent canines. They are omnivorous, with excellent night vision.
NOTES: Believed to derive from the crossbreeding of goblins to men, hobgoblins are much more humanlike in behavior than goblins. They are excellent climbers, though not as arboreal as goblins. Practicing advanced tool making, to include ironworking, they fabricate advanced clothing, use fire, build shelters, often occupying caves as well and congregate in groups to the extent of small villages.
ARKANS
NATIVE TO: Arkus; (The Northern Isle)
LIFESPAN: 3000+ years
ATTRIBUTES: Arkans range from five and one half to six and one half-feet-tall, weighing 100 to 200 pounds. Generally human in appearance, with a slight pointed shape to the ears; light tan skin color; hair color dark brown through black, never red or blond, suspected to turn white in older individuals though none have been witnessed, located head and groin region only, always straight, with males beardless. Very quick and lightweight for their size, they are omnivorous, with good night vision.
NOTES: Arkans are 88% descended from elves abducted by the Adversary, during their second colonization of the continent, crossed with goblins for night vision and to instill affinity for dark sorcery. Just as with elves, they are not immortal, but extremely long-lived, with some individuals greatly exceeding the minimum life span. All possess some degree of ability for sorcery. Arkans are not inherently evil, but culturally indoctrinated to venerate the Adversary, believing him to be the creator of the world. They refer to the Nameless One as “The One True God” and claim that he needs no name to distinguish him from the false gods.
DRAGONS
NATIVE TO: Desolate areas of Continent
LIFESPAN: 3000+ years
ATTRIBUTES: Dragons are large reptiles, up to forty feet long from nose to tail, having slim sinuous bodies, with the exception of a deeply keeled chest for anchoring of flight muscles, bird-like legs ending in clawed grasping toes, wide leathery bat-like wings, with wingspan exceeding length of body and a long snout with numerous sharp reptilian teeth. They possess lung-like organs that concentrate a flammable gas and an oxidizing gas which, upon combining in the nostrils, burst into flame. They come in several different varieties, some preferring mountains, some deserts, and others, like the water wyrm, gravitating to low wet areas. They are carnivorous, with excellent night vision.
NOTES: One of the Adversary’s earliest attempts at intelligent life, dragons are notable in that they seem to be indifferent, rather than truly evil. Numerous reports exist of compassion and restraint on their part. Solitary by nature, they are slow to reproduce and have never been numerous. Dragons are notoriously difficult to kill, but a well-placed spear, puncturing both flame organs, causes immediate death by incineration.
OTHER MONSTERS
Other monsters exist throughout the Continent, with highly variable lifespans and intelligence ranging from nearly non-existent to advanced. They exist as small populations overall, lacking reproductive viability, but intelligent forms are extremely long lived, some individuals surviving from the creation period. Intelligent specimens, like dragons, were early attempts by the Adversary, before his creation of trolls and goblins, while non-sentient forms are the creations of renegade aelient.
Appendix E
Magical System of the Allfather’s Universe
Magic of Aertu
Upon creating his universe, the Allfather established physical laws to his liking, and chose a system of magic based upon colors visible to the sentient peoples he created. His Mother’s universe had no such magical system, and physical laws very different from those chosen by the Allfather. Of the myriad universes created by his kind, the Allfather’s is unique in its combination of physical laws and magical system.
The various forms of magic existing on Aertu manifest themselves as colors to practitioners and occasionally, at high intensities, non-gifted onlookers. Listed below, are the various colors and their attributes.
Blue is the only strain of magic available to elves. Blue and red are available to men and Arkans, though Arkans are only trained to practice red magic, and may be completely unaware of their ability for blue. Men of good character tend to choose blue, while evil men gravitate to red, though there are occasional exceptions.
Immortals are the only known practitioners of green and yellow magic. The Allfather and the aelir are able to combine pure strains into new forms, while the aelient are capable of using pure strains singly.
All forms of magic may be used to manipulate objects in the natural world. Blue can be used as a destructive weapon, for example, while red can affect rudimentary healing if needed. The basic attributes remain, so that blue makes for a very precise implement, while red lends itself to powerful, yet imprecise applications. Red requires a practitioner with a high degree of control for anything non-destructive, while blue requires the ability to channel large volumes of power to attain destructive force. As immortals can harness all forms of magic as required, there is little documentation for yellow and green used for anything other than healing and growth.
The Allfather was the only being known to combine all four pure strains of magic to form the white magic of transformation, though it is suspected that the aelir were capable of it, though rarely used it.
For reasons yet to be determined, Aleron possesses the ability to wield magic in combination, to include the white magic formerly ascribed only to the Allfather.
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