In a certain country there lived an Emperor with his wife, who had three handsome sons; the eldest was named Prince Villam, and the second Prince Felard, and the youngest son Prince Isben. One day the Emperor went out with his Empress for a walk in the garden, and on a sudden a violent storm came on, which carried off the Empress from his sight. The Emperor was very much grieved, and mourned a long time for his wife; and the two eldest sons, seeing their father’s sorrow, begged his blessing and permission to go forth and wander in search of their mother. So he consented, and dismissed them.
The two sons travelled for a long time, until at length they came to a wide desert, where they pitched their tents, and waited until someone should pass who might show them the way. For three whole years they waited, but saw no one.
Meanwhile the youngest brother, Prince Isben, grew up, and went likewise to his father, begged his blessing, and took leave. And he wandered for a
THE HERO Peace lasted for 300 long years, until one day, while I walked down the lonely forest path, something large appeared from the bushes. The large creature had a nightmarish appearance; the sharp rows of dagger-like teeth, that appeared under the upper lip, gleamed in the shade, the small, narrow placed eyes shinned with an unnatural fiery glow. I moved a step back. The creature followed. I took out my sword; the creature eyed me with a stony stare. "You think you stand a chance against me?"the creature hissed. "You're brave or foolish or both at the same time." "Who knows?" "Ravens cry in the night, When someone is gonna die. The devil prepares the graves. The wolves, Heralds of the Wolf God are coming. Footsteps coming closer. The wolves, side by side… They come… They
A HARGAN FOLK STORYThere was once a girl who was wiser than the King and all his councilors; there never was anything like it. Her father was so proud of her that he boasted about her cleverness at home and abroad. He could not keep his tongue still about it. One day he was boasting to one of his neighbors, and he said, “The girl is so clever that not even the King himself could ask her a question she couldn't answer, or read her a riddle she couldn't unravel.”Now it so chanced the King was sitting at a window nearby, and he overheard what the girl's father was saying. The next day he sent for the man to come before him. “I hear you have a daughter who is so clever that no one in the kingdom can equal her; and is that so?” asked the King.Yes, it was no more than the truth. Too much could not be said of her wit and cleverness.That was well, and the King was glad to hear it. He had thirty eggs; they were fresh and good, but it wo
A FOLK TALE Once there was a king, who had three sons and only one daughter, who was caged and kept as his most precious possession. When the girl matured, she asked her father to let her go out with her brothers for a walk around the castle, the father agreed. When she went out, a dragon appeared out of nowhere, grabbed her and disappeared into the clouds. The brothers ran to their father and told him what happened. They will gladly search for their sister. Their father agreed, gave them each a horse and everything what they will need on the road, and so they went. On their long journey they, finally, found a castle that levitated between the clouds and the ground. They thought that their sister might be in there high above them. They started making a plan. The brothers thought and thought, until they came up with a plan. The plan was simple, they need a rope, but where to find a rope, in the middle of nowhere, they turned towards the horses. The two younger b
I Some stories are true, but most are half true. It depends what you prefer. But the story I’m about to tell is more than true. I remember the events that occurred some five hundred years ago like they were yesterday. There are only a few more events that are deeply engraved in my memory besides this one. Allow me start with the cold, boring facts about how it all began. The land, where I am from, lays far beyond the forest, hidden by tall, snowy mountain peaks and unknown and hard to track terrain, ruled over by a certain Prince Val Dragwer, or in the native language Val Dracul the Third. A prince, a general, a warrior, a warlord all of this he is; but above else he’s a strategist that carefully calculates his every move, in order to gain the upper hand and save as much of his people as he can. Generous and terrible, merciful and cruel, he’s all this and more at the same time. But this isn’t a story about him, this stories is about how I got
SCENE ILablin, one of the few larger towns in Rowena, is and always will remain a lively place, to say the least, more entertaining than most places and less entertaining than a few better places. Even to this day there is no difference; most people hope that there won’t be one and that things will never change. Who would like to change in a place like this? Nobody in the right mind state, but there are those that would. Who could blame them? Nobody, maybe they like the quietness of village or the song of the mountains as they snake their way through the shear, rugged and cold mountain paths. People have different tastes, in everything, but most returned to Lablin. Why you may ask? The people themselves couldn’t answer. Some would say it’s the market, the theater, the library, the square, the city hall or maybe it’s because of the pedlars. Whatever th
SCENE IThe tavern he got was much bigger than the old Narrakort Tavern where he was housed. The building itself had a different smell, the smell of private property, his property. Narrakort Tavern had four rooms on the ground floor and four rooms on the first floor. The inn he got, in its current state, had eleven rooms that could be used. Many who knew him bet the bard would do nothing to restore it to its former glory. But again, many knew him well. They lost.The tavern at its height had twenty rooms, seven bathrooms and eight toilets.The interior configuration was different from that of other pubs, most of them were single or double floored. It was the oldest and most famous tavern in town.A large fireplace was stationed in the center, thus illuminating the entire room. He sat in his favorite chair, smoking his pipe, watching the shadows on the freshly painted walls and supports. Ther
They appeared from the bush, silent as shadows, a group of at least a hundred man armed to the teeth. They rode in silence. The horses were silent, as well. The whHaotaiga was silent. There was nothing else to it, nothing at all. Why and from where did they come to this part of taiga? What did they search for? Those were questions that were hard to answer.Their faces were covered with beech-wood masks that gathered above the forehead that was decorated with two long straps of colorful cloth. The rest of the mask was decorated with fur, feathers or colored pieced of oak that made a form of harmony. A harmony that was terrifying, to say the least, but none the less it was a form of harmony. Some might say it was a horde of demons that rode their terrible cavalcade, they weren’t wrong. This group was more demon than man. They rode. The leader stopped, looked at the sky above. An eagle flew above, it was an omen. The group stopped. The lea
IThrough High Hill a strange figure ran, it almost levitated, face hidden behind an plain hood of the rough woolen coat that danced on the wind like wings. The figure moved with above human speed, not even stopping to safely cross the slippery, moss-covered, rough-edged stones that appeared here and there. Plain deer hide boots walked without rest over the uneven terrain.High Hill, as the locals with suspicious looking faces called it, was still richly decorated with deciduous trees, even though it was already passed mid-autumn and the beginning of another rough winter was near. It will only bring new problems but it will also take with it many lives that weren’t meant to end and to whom diseases could do nothing. Every since the seasons changed and since Mian Vailur, the winter god, awaken for his multi-century slumber, the winters became colder and longer while the summers became shorter and hotter. The equilibrium
IAlbert walked with every possible thought in his mind, good or bad. As he walked the sword was near hand, the legendary sword. It was comforting, that one thought was more than enough to raise his spirit. He was near the opening. Down below the earth, placed in an endless cavern, the Dark One was preparing to be free once again. No one of the blessed had noticed that the world has changed, that everything changed, and that even the darkness around them changed. As always, there are is a group that noticed everything. He wondered in what group he was placed, even before the truth was told he know deep inside that everything has changed and he could fell that but couldn't see it.He waited. The Dark One will soon appear, he didn't know in what form and how much powerful he will be. He will appear.IIThe magical chains around Rolfheim, the first among the gods that created this world until he fell, slowly we
In darkness of his workroom, the emperor sat, thinking what to do next. He had a lot of options to think about. All of them look like the right decision, but on careful analyzes, every decision was wrong. He was at a standstill. Hours passed, he was still at the beginning. To him, they looked like minutes. Minutes, he spent in reviewing. There was always something that he missed.His grandfather was a great strategist and his father before him. Everyone in his family was a great strategist, but no one has a problem that he clashes with. The maps were scattered on a large, massive oak table, maps of all sizes and meanings. The oak table was from his great-grandfather's time. The north is in chaos and the regional lords are fighting against each other, it's more than a good time to attack.King against king, brother upon brother, and the empire was never stronger. In the year since he became emperor, the state has grown dramatically. No one had glorious beginnings, not e
TRAVELING STONEHjolt wandered through the dark corridors that lead to massive crisscrossed system of caves. Who knows how long did he wander? Darkness was everywhere around. He stumbled and tumbled in the darkness, until he didn’t found a brass hinged door. Naturally, he tried for the hinge, but the door didn’t open. He tried again. When he was ready to take a respite, a voice from spoke the following lines:"Once a dark-eyed Argan girlShod my horse.She asked for a small amount of moneyNot highly valuing her work.What’s your name, young lady?And the young lady replies:"You’ll hear my nameIn the clatter of your horse’s hooves."I rode along the street,I galloped the roads,And along the path among brown rocks,And among gray rocks.
I The border with Kirdan, stretched as long as the eye could see, the ground trembled with their gallop. They rode without rest, for days, swift as a wind, for they must deliver a message to Albin. Important news await, which he alone must hear. Their armors were the same; hard to spot the difference between them, the heraldry, which hung on their right shoulder, was the same; a yellow turtle on a green field, the sigil of House Transin. The bull horn-helmed knight stopped for a moment, looked at the worn-down signpost. His dark green eyes looked at the names on the board. He mounted his steed, turned to the other direction and galloped, the others followed in toe. "Kerd is that way,"said the first knight. "True,"replied the bull horn-helmed knight. "Why are we going in the opposite direction?" "Would you go to Kerd?" "No." "Neither would I." "That's the point." "You think that Albin
IThe year is 263 of the Ertail Age, during the tenth anniversary of King Kird's ascension to the throne of Northern Moscodia. Two brothers feuded over the birthright for the throne of Felard, who at the time was the center for the druidic brotherhood and the main trading center for the whole region Uthtira. The older brother tried peacefully to calm down his younger brother, but alas, his efforts were futile. The younger brother was manipulated by his wife Girtanna, who lusted for wealth and power of Felard. There were rumors that she had an affair with the older brother. Who knows is this true or not? Man with higher knowledge say that one of the keys to the treasure chamber of the late King Galbar is hidden somewhere in Ferlard.The older brother moved his hand across the cold marble of the statue; he looked up at the eyes of the Wolf God. He always wondered in recent time, do the all mighty gods ever hear the prayers of ordinary people and nobles.
IThe morning sun shinned bright in the first days of winter, giving a false feeling of warmth. Herbog walked up the creaking, dried oaken steps. He stopped, looked at the guards on the palisade. The guard turned to left, continued down the palisade. Herbog looked up at the sigil of House Aswar, a proud lion danced on the light breeze. He wondered was it a good omen or a bad one, he wasn't very religious, most problems he resolved with the sword, if you could call that large piece of steel a sword. The soldier waited for him to get up, Herbog turned towards the show-covered field; it will be a harsh winter, it always was and will be, ever since the new king came."I don't like it,"the guard said while covering his face with mask that hung lowered to his chest."Neither do I,"Herbog replied.The man turned, "always the same blasted weather.""It could be worse.""True, but still it's blasted.""I know."
Thunderbolts lighted the cloudless sky, made strange patterns, which the astonished viewers watched without breath. Never have they seen such splendor and might. The thunderbolts were a strange and mystical sight in these dry, desert parts of the Continent. It was unheard of, let alone witnessed on a cloudless night like this. It was a strange omen of things to come. The viewers watched as the thunderbolts glided across the sky, meeting in the middle and, once more, going their separate serpentine ways. The children were terror-stricken but had enough courage to continue watching. In the meantime, in a distant and hidden place, a child was born. Its fate was already decided. Tonight, the witches will come for it. A woman stood nearby; there must be something that she could do, anything even the smallest thing would change to course."Ashal rar' an el da raet,"the words stop in her throat. T
IRuins of the old hill fort stood on the top of the Hill, the Hill as it was called, was closer to a mountain than to a hill. Long ago, the fort was a place of splendor and envy. Now, everything that's left is a ruin, a home for the Dread King and his servants. The main watchtower was the only thing that remained same. In its prime, the fort hand at least five or six watchtowers. The dense, lush forest, that surrounded the fort, has changed beyond recognition.People, now a day, call it the dark forest. Once a mystical place, now you can only find ghouls and other creatures from nightmares. Even in the daylight hours it was pretty dark in the forest. The trees with their long branches looked like humans with claws.Wizertein, five months… I ride for that wizard, Jarden thought. He was astonished with the passing of time. To him, it looked like it wasn't more than two or three weeks.In the human tong, Waweren is Tuverin-
IThe group of men stood and debated in the large longhouse. The major sat in his high chair, which was decorated with two fierce eagles. "What are we to do?"he asked. He had a brooding face that saw seventy winters, each stronger than the other."We will have a wedding,"Olaf replied. "Who's with me?"The hall cheered."Is the choice unanimously?"the mayor stood up. "I ask again."Everyone raised their hands."The matter is closed. Sing men, let the hall echo."The stood up and started to sing:"Friends and kinsfolk met to deliberate To whom would they marry off their kinswoman this year? Rosy youth They deliberatedTo whom would they marry off their kinswoman this year? We want you to wed the son of a king Who has more gold than poor Roland has land? Wed the son of a king