《Tales of Karlund》 Sif and The Fairy King The night was late as Sif trekked through the filth and grime of the swamplands. Countless stars dotted the sky. Glowing white twinkles easily seen through the leafless branches of withering white trees. She kept her cloak pulled tightly about her, to ward off the bone chilling cold that howled through the decaying land in which she travelled. For many days and nights, she had not seen as much of a glimpse of life. No birds sung in the morning, no beasts scurried about the land, none but herself travelled here. Ill fortune upon the hooded wanderer who had told her of a shortcut through the swamps! She was certain she would die in this wretched place. Wait! What was that? At first she had thought it nothing more than a trick of the mind. Her desperations made manifest in her sight. She blinked. She rubbed her eyes. No. It was real, wasn¡¯t it? There was a fire burning in the distance. She moved closer. Not an untamed wildfire, born of nature¡¯s wrath. No, it was a well-controlled campfire. There were people there. Lithe of frame and short of stature, but people. Yes, she could make them out quite easily now that she was closer. The men wore loose tunics, the women wore flowing gowns, all the same shade of crimson. She could make out the scent of fine perfumes wafted on the air around them, something else as well, she couldn¡¯t quite place it. Their perfume was too strong. They sat on stumps and fallen logs. Some ate bread, others drank wine from slender bottles. They whispered softly among each other and one man played the harp, though it¡¯s tune was melancholic and weary. The others whispered faintly among themselves, words only at the edge of hearing, even as she came quite close to them. The harpist was the first to spot her. He spoke drearily. ¡°We have a guest.¡± The others looked up, a woman was the next to speak. ¡°Why did you come here?¡± A man, who had been whispering to the woman, gulped down some wine, then added. ¡°This is not a place most would wish to find themselves in. Are you mad? Or simply a fool?¡± ¡°No sir,¡± Sif spoke ¡°I am a simple traveler. I was told that passage through this swamp would be a simple matter.¡± ¡°A fool then.¡± The harpist laughed softly ¡°If you followed such advice.¡± All those around the fire laughed now. They seemed quite amused at Sif¡¯s folly, though undeniably irritated at her presence in the swamp. ¡°You are being very rude.¡± Sif scolded ¡°This is hardly a way to treat a stranger, hoping to share your fire.¡± ¡°True enough, I suppose.¡± The woman sighed ¡°We ought to show you hospitality, least you leave this place thinking we are a wicked folk.¡± Those gathered began striking the camp. The harpist tucked his instrument under his arm, and the man extinguished the fire. The others began putting away their wine and food. Sif gawked at them. ¡°This is a strange way to show hospitality! You are an odd folk, I should say!¡± ¡°Do you expect us to entertain you in the wilderness, stranger? Is that the custom among your people?¡± The man chortled ¡°It¡¯s the palace for you, stranger. You¡¯ll have room and board there, for the night, and all the favors and fancies our people can provide.¡± These queer remarks deeply confused Sif. What palace? She knew of no kingdoms in this land. It was, after all, little more than a swamp. How could such a building even stay up in a place like this? Perhaps they meant to take her far across the country, to a more habitable land where they made their home. ¡°Is the palace very far?¡± Sif asked to confirm her suspicions. ¡°Not far at all, if you walk along the right paths.¡± The woman said firmly, taking Sif¡¯s hand in her own ¡°Stay close. This would be a dreadful time to get lost.¡± With a firm tug, the woman began leading her through the swamp. The harpist, the man, and the others, moved along beside or behind them. They moved quickly and gracefully through the muck and dying trees all about them, though Sif knew not how. Their swift feet barely sank into the mud before they were moving on to the next step. It was all Sif could do to keep up with the woman pulling her along without tripping. Soon they stood before a ruin, though that was perhaps a generous word for the crumbling husk. Sif had mistaken it for a hill or perhaps a burial mound. It was an ugly, squat building of muddy bricks. The woman led Sif to a cavernous opening set in the face of the structure. The others slithered inside and off down the corridors. ¡°They go to inform the King of your coming.¡± The woman explained ¡°It would be improper to bring you to the great hall without properly announcing your presence, particularly on a feast day.¡± The woman stood for a moment, looking about the swamp, then led Sif inside. The interior was just as dreary as the exterior. Muddy grey and brown stone walls, lacking any tapestries or decorations beyond the occasional torch or lantern. Then they came upon a set of oaken doors, studded with black iron. It was cast open, and a warm glow emitted from the chamber on the other side. The heat from large fires and the sound of soft music and singing. Sad and melancholic, like the harpists song, but quite beautiful. She passed through the opening and found herself in a vast chamber full of long tables and benches. At the tables sat people much like those Sif had met in the woods. Dressed in crimson, reeking of perfumes. Though with so many gathered in one place, she could make out a hint of the other smell. Decay. All those gathered wore crimson outfits, and many played instruments. Harps and flutes, for the most part, though other strange twisting devices which produced low, whimpering sounds were also present.The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident. The tables were set with silver. Each reveler had a goblet of wine, and many had plates of bread and meat. At the center of the chamber a party sat at a circular table. Among them was a man who must have been the king of this place. His slender figure was covered with a fine brocade tunic and a cloak embroidered with flowers. On his delicate brown, he wore a thin circlet of silver, set with white stones. His pale blue eyes quickly spotted Sif. He smiled and waved, ushering her towards him. When she was closer, he lazily gestured to the chair beside his own. ¡°You are the human who walks among my people?¡± His gaze never turned away from Sif. ¡°Human? Of course. What else should be?¡± She asked, taking a sip of wine from the goblet before her. The drink was sweeter than anything she ever tasted, having the aroma and flavor of countless fruits, some known to her, others entirely unfamiliar. How could people living in such an awful place have such fine drink? She promptly took a bite of bread. It was soft and white, and the buttery she spread across it was perfectly scrumptious, tasting slightly of honey. ¡°Why, a fairy, of course.¡± The king laughed ¡°What did you imagine my people were?¡± Those gathered at the round table laughed along with their king. Drunk on the sweet wine they were drinking, those gathered about the king seemed more cheerful than their kinsmen. Indeed, the more wine Sif drank, the warmer the dull old hall seemed to her. Yet what of the king¡¯s words? Were these people the fairies of legend? They were nothing like the verdant beings born of childhood stories. They were so morose, and what of that all-encompassing reek they all carried? No matter. In the old stories, Fairies had a tendency towards trickery, if not cruelty. She ought to be moving on. She focused on buttering some bread, acting as if she had not heard the remark. Sif took a bite and spoke once more. ¡°Well well, I¡¯ve enjoyed your hospitality, my lord. But I should be off to bed, I¡¯ll want to set out early in the morning.¡± The king¡¯s face twitched slightly. The shadow of disappointment flashed across his face. Then he took a sip of his wine, and smiled brightly at her. ¡°Yes, of course, my dear woman. I¡¯ve had my servants prepare quarters for you.¡± With a clap of the king¡¯s hands, young fairies appeared. Youths clad in similar crimson to the rest of their people. Promptly they were upon her, whisking away her plate and goblet, and ushering her off down the hallway. They led her through more of those melancholic hallways to a large bedroom. Like the rest of this place, there was a certain sad rot to the whole room. Still, the bed was comfortable enough, and it had a large window through which she could see the silver light of the moon. Soon. Soon she would leave this place. Surely the king would tell her how to escape the swamp, his people seemed more than capable of travelling through it, they must know how to get out. With such thoughts she did all she could to sleep. Alas, it seemed escaping this strange place was not to be so simple a matter, for late at night an intruder passed through her door. The king himself. He smiled at her and spoke. ¡°My lady, I wished to speak to you in private.¡± Sif sat up, her fingers coiling around the dagger hanging on her belt, a short distance from her bed. ¡°What could you possibly wish to speak of at such an hour?¡± He laughed as he approached her. ¡°The hour matters little. It¡¯s simply not a matter I like to discuss in the company of my people. It upsets them terribly.¡± He paused, for a moment, scratching his chin and standing in the moonlight flooding in through her window. ¡°Surely you have noticed what an awful place we live in. Surely you do not imagine our lands have always been so?¡± She frowned. Was he a mad man? Why could he not discuss such things at a more appropriate time? ¡°I should think not, your grace.¡± She mumbled ¡°This land is dead. Why have you not relocated?¡± He frowned. ¡°We cannot. We are trapped here.¡± ¡°Trapped? What keeps you from leaving? You seem to be the only ones who dwell in this place, and I saw no leviathans or other such monsters in the swamp.¡± ¡°No. No physical beasts keep up here, but rather a metaphysical curse.¡± ¡°Your grace?¡± He folded his hands into his cloak, speaking softly. ¡°A long, long time ago, this land was lush and beautiful. We produced great arts of silver and precious metals.¡± Her eyes turned to the circlet on his brow. ¡°Our wealth drew jealousy. Countless eons before your people came to this land, we were attacked by grenlen.¡± Sif arched an eyebrow. ¡°Grenlen?¡± The king frowned. ¡°Has so much time passed? Are our ancient foes truly forgotten?¡± ¡°I have never heard of them.¡± ¡°No matter. They were a monstrous people, cunning and deadly. We were no match for them. Seeking to avert our doom, I endeavored to set the invaders adrift in time.¡± ¡°And?¡± ¡°I failed. They had magicks of their own. The curse rebounded upon us. It changed my people, and our land. Everything was frozen. My people still bear ancient wounds. Fresh to this day. We rot. We decay. We do not die. With this power, we bested our enemies, but at a terrible cost.¡± ¡°Majesty, forgive me, but I think you mad.¡± He rolled up his sleeve. The source of the lingering reeks his people bore was made clear. Running across his arm was a deep gash, stitched together, blood and pus oozing from it. ¡°The red garments gracefully hide the blood stains. We do what we can about the smell.¡± Sif¡¯s eyes went wide, she grasped the knife tightly. ¡°Why did your people bring me here? What do you want from me?¡± He pulled a silver knife from his robe and advanced on her once more. ¡°Mortality has a great power to it. To remain within the cycle of life and death. I need your flesh and blood to restore life to my land, for a time. I apologize. This will only take a mome-¡° She needed to hear no more. She swept her arm forward, slashing at him with her dagger. He lunged himself, his knife jabbing. She made a deep cut across his face. He gashed her arm. For a moment, mortal and immortal blood mixed in the air. Then there was a flash of light. The room was not grey, but pale brown. The window was full of colorful glass. The king was young. Strong. Handsome. He wore a robe of many colors. He looked at her, blinking for a moment. He looked confused. Uncertain. As though he had never seen one such as her before. He reached out to touch her. Then the world was grey again. He clutched his bleeding face. ¡°You bitch! What have you done?!¡± She pushed him aside. He was so frail; it was not a difficult task. He howled in pain as he fell to the floor. Holding her dagger close, she bolted through the hallways. Grey and bare. Then brown and covered in fine tapestries. Fairies poked their heads out doors. Miserable and pale. Sun kissed and bright. Always surprised She came to the entrance. Good. The gateway was still an opening in the wall. No! It was a great rosewood gate, and a fairy stood there in armor woven of silver scales. He held a spear in his hand. He moved towards her. No. She was alone. She burst outside into the swamp. Or was it a forest? Yes. An autumn forest. The smell of cakes and wine and all good things in the world filled the air. No! The decay! It was close now! She ran. Down a road. Though the muck. The sound of hoofs beat behind her. So close now. Feet trudging quickly through the thick mud. She turned on the road, the forest was thick around her now, though she could see a spot where it thinned and opened up into a vast meadow. With all her strength, she pushed through the trees and collapsed into the grass. She was free. She was in the empty tundra once more. The swamp lay behind her. In the distance, she thought she could see the shadow of that hilly ruin. She turned. Far off in the distance lay Eirsmet. She started walking forward, never turning back to look upon the swamp. When her business in the north was done and she moved south once more, she kept to the long road, and forbid any in her party from setting foot in that desolate wasteland. How Karn won the North for Mankind ¡°This way, girl, we¡¯re almost to the top.¡± ¡°This is too risky, pa. We should have come in through the forest, we could still take him by surprise! ¡° ¡°No more of that, girl. Your plan is fine, but we¡¯re too few. The damned beast will be expecting an attack from the trees.¡± ¡°If you¡¯d left me enough time to rally my huntsmen¡­ ¡° ¡°No use arguing now. Look!¡± The hunters could see their prey, illuminated by its colossal bonfire. It rose up before them like a great stony hill. Stretching up into the night sky. A grey fleshed being with bulbous skin. A giant. No, not just any giant, but Uthgar, the king of all the giants! The beasts that had attacked their people as soon as they had landed on the southern shores. Karn¡¯s warriors had all but driven the monsters from the coasts, and Sul¡¯s people had started to establish cities. Many felt they were secure now. Those willing to join on such dangerous adventures were dwindling daily. Things could not go on this way. As long as their tormentors could organize, they could be driven back into the sea. To rectify this problem, Karn, leader of the humans who had come out of the south to settle these northern lands, had set out with his eldest daughter, Eir, to slay the king of the giants. While Sul, her sister, was far cleverer in the ways of city folk, Eir was a huntress after their father¡¯s own heart. So when he set out to slay the commander of their foes, he ordered the girl to string her bow and join him. Now they crouched together in the bushes, a short distance away from the leviathan creature, plotting the best ways in which to destroy the monster for good. They decided to draw his attention by casting a rock into the bushes a short distance away, as he turned, Eir would fire an arrow first into one eye, and then the other. Once their foe was blinded, Karn would rush forth and slay the giant with Ording, his enchanted blade strong enough to pierce the flesh of giants. They took their positions in the undergrowth. Karn made the sound of an owl¡¯s hoot, his signal to his daughter, and she tossed a small stone. There was a rustling in the bushes as it hit its mark. Then the giant Uthgar turned and cast a giant boulder towards Eir. She let out a frantic yelp. There was a sickening crackling sound as it ripped through the bushes, tearing apart branch and bone, Karn dared not guess at which sounds he was hearing. He knew only that his daughter had been slain. ¡°Come out, little human!¡± Uthgar bellowed in a voice like thunder ¡°I know you are still lurking there! I heard you rats creeping in the bushes, and I can still smell you there, even if your companion is dead! Come out I say!¡± Karn drew Ording and stepped forth into the clearing. He saw the giant had now risen to its full height, no less than that of two or three men stacked one on top of another, and had hefted up another great stone, no doubt meant for him! No. He could not allow that. He still needed to slay this beast. For his people and for his daughter¡¯s sake. If he fell without taking the giant to death alongside him, then poor Eir had died for nothing. ¡°I would not do that, if I were you!¡± Karn said firmly.The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there. ¡°Oh no?¡± The giant laughed, a dreadful sound as though boulders were being smashed against each other. ¡°And why should I not exterminate one of the southern vermin who have come to infest my land?¡± ¡°For I am no mere human, I am Karn, son of Alaric, King of the Humans who crossed the sea on our great ships! This sword is Ording! I assume you know it well, for it has slain many of your kind!¡± The giant let out a terrible roar and hurled the stone. Karn leapt to the side, only barely missing the projectile cast at him. ¡°Why should I not kill you? You are the one who brought these devils to my land! If I kill you, they shall all crumble, like a beast with its head torn off! When you are dead, I shall take your sword, lead my people south, tear down your cities and drive your people back into the sea!¡± Karn turned to face the giant once more, sword at the ready. ¡°You must know that I have come to do the same thing to you, Uthgar, this sword is more than capable of piercing your great skin! As surely as your stones would break my body!¡± The giant let out a low grumble. ¡°Then why do you waste time on speech, Karn son of Alaric?¡± ¡°For the woman you slew was none but my daughter. Slaughtering you with this sword would not satisfy my hunger for revenge.¡± ¡°Hah! Is that so? Then what do you suggest?¡± ¡°That I cast aside my sword and you your stone. We shall settle this blood feud man to man! With our hands.¡± The giant let out another round of bellowing laughter. ¡°Do you fear to face me in such a fashion?¡± Karn snapped ¡°Are the stories I have heard about the great giant king lies?¡± Uthgar dropped his stone. Karn threw his sword to the ground in turn. Uthgar began advancing upon him. ¡°I fear nothing, little man!¡± The giant roared as he snatched Karn between his fingers and squeezed fiercely ¡°Not you, nor your pitiful sword! I shall crush you like this, if that is what you wish!¡± He lifted Karn up high into the air, always squeezing. Karn heard another crack as his bones began to break beneath the weight of the giant¡¯s fingers. Pain coursed through his body. With what strength and rage he had left to him, he drove the toe of his hardened boot into the giants left eye. Uthgar let out a horrified roar. Karn followed one blow with another, striking the right eye in turn. The giant dropped him back to the ground. The force of the monster¡¯s assault had weakened him, but he was driven on by a hunger for vengeance. He snatched up his discarded sword and plunged forward, driving it into Uthgar¡¯s gut. He twisted and pulled, cutting open the giant¡¯s stomach. Foul smelling dark purple blood spilled out onto the ground. Uthgar fell to the ground. Collecting the last of his strength, Karn drove Ording through the giant¡¯s heart. Then he two collapsed. He gazed up at the northern stars as life slipped away from him and he passed on into the next world. There he was joined by his daughter and father and father¡¯s fathers. Sul too, came to them in time. In the weeks to come, the people spread out from their southern cities, searching for their missing king and his eldest daughter. They found the broken body of Eir first, the bounder having cast her off the edge of the hill. Atop it they found their king. They built a pyre and burnt them there. Many years in the future, when those lands were settled, the great palace of the kings of Eirsmet would stand upon it. Who would carry Ording, and Karn¡¯s legacy with it, was a matter of some dispute. Sul felt that as Karn¡¯s last living child, she should be the one to hold it. Yet she was no warrior, and her children were not yet old enough to carry a sword. Instead it passed on to Eir¡¯s son, Egil, who would not only wield the sword, but drive the last giants into the mountains. He would lay the foundations of the great northern city named for his mother and rule over the north as the first White Raven King of Eirsmet. In recompense for Ording and lordship over the North, Sul went unchallenged when she claimed Karn¡¯s crown, a circlet of silver decorated with white gems, and lordship over all the South. Still, she did not forget how she had been robbed of a far greater prize, for the circlet bore no enchantments or legends. It is a wound the kings of Sulheim never forgot. The Secret Cavern It is said, even in these late days, when the last bits of the magic we found on this continent fade away, that there are hidden places. Long forgotten palaces of the fairies. Armies of Elves and Trolls, still waging their ancient war among the great forest. Giants sequestered away in the mountains, where the last of their mead halls still stand. Wizards and Enchantresses, those great adepts of the secret world, practicing their craft in secret. My grandson, all this and more have I seen. I have no fear to say it, either. No Greencloak or fouler agent of Eadric shall come to sentence a dying old man. Enough! I beg you, enough! Do not interrupt. I know you are a rational man. Your mind is filled with ship manifests and other such accounts. A man of Eadric¡¯s new Karlund. I would not, however, die without passing on my story. If the old world to vanish, I would know that there is at least one who still lived and knew of these things. Won¡¯t you do this favor for your dying father? Ah yes. There¡¯s a good land. Many ages ago, when there were as many kings in Karlund as there are stars in the sky, I was a mercenary, that¡¯s what you¡¯d call it today, at least. I fancied myself an Adventurer, like in one of the old tales. Well now, back in those days, King Oswald of Blackenmarch- What? You don¡¯t know the name? Pfa. I¡¯ve supposed all the petty kings have been erased from the history lessons. Anyways, old King Oswald had a quest for me. Some of the peasants who worked his land had got talking you see. They said there was a cave deep in the nearby mountains where Ording was hidden! Yes! You¡¯ll know that name, I wager! Ording! The Sword of Karn! The Giantsbane, passed on to Egil and down through his line until it was lost with Thunir, when he set out to slay the last giants lurking about in the mountains. I see you have not forgot all my stories, lad! Hah. Well, as you can imagine, Oswald wanted this sword quite badly. Half the northern kings would, of course. To be sure, they all claimed to be some descendant of Egil or another, but to hold Ording itself¡­ Well, your old grandfather was quite the different man in those days. One of the most skilled rangers in all Karlund, let alone the north. I had travelled from the Southern Coasts to the Northern Wastes. I¡¯d parlayed with giants in their mountain homes. I¡¯d hunted lycans in the great forests. Some said I even knew a bit of the old elf Lore. A gift I¡¯d been given for assassinating a troll king. Hah. Most of it was nonsense, but it never hurts to have a legend swirling around you. They called me Greenshanks in those days. So Oswlad brings me into his great hall. Well. It was really just a particularly nice home. Nothing like Eadric¡¯s great palace, I¡¯ll wager, or even Uther¡¯s, but those places were built for Eir and Sul, so it¡¯s not a fair comparison. Yes! Yes, there is a point to this! Humor an old man¡¯s ramblings! Well. Oswald offers me a great feast. When we were both quite drunk, he brings out a chest of silver. This will be mine if I find this cavern and bring Ording back to me. The old knew that the White Raven Kings would pay me more for it, of course. Half the petty kings could match his offer. So he decides to sweeten the offer up. He was a clever man. You had to be to survive in his position. He¡¯d seen me eying his daughter. Fairest lass I ever set eyes on, until I met your grandmother, of course. She would be mine as well, he promised. Pfa. As if old Greenshanks needed such an offer to set out on a quest. Hmpf. We should have seen the old days were ending when kings offered their daughters, the blood of Karn if they were to be believed, up as payment like cattle. Though I admit, I did feel a certain stirring at the time. A grand adventure. Enough silver to buy myself a great holding. A beautiful woman to share it with. I was a young man, after all. I set out the next morning. I didn¡¯t make straight for the spot where the peasants said the cave was. That was what some shit-brained adventurer led by their lust would do. No, I went deeper into the mountains first. I found one of the more amicable giants, a fellow named Yg, great big bastar- What? Yes, the Giants are real. They just keep to themselves. Used to come down into human lands when I was a lad, but monster hunters seeking a place among the stars put an end to that. Well. This Yg was old. Knew much of the old Giant Lore. I wanted to ask him about this cave. Now, the thing you need to understand about the giants, lad, is that they don¡¯t like us. They were the rulers of the continent before we came. Fairy. Elf. Troll. Dwarf. All paid homage and tribute to the Giant King in his great mead hall. Some of them will do business with men, but only begrudgingly, so you need to bring a gift with you. They like elk meet, should you ever wish to seek one out. Hunt it yourself and drag the whole beast along, they won¡¯t take some trimmed cut you found in a butcher¡¯s window. So I ask Yg about this cave, and he lets out a great laugh. As though he thought me a fool. If you go through your life without hearing a giant laugh like that, you be thankful for it. ¡°A man seeks out the cavern of fate?¡± he bellowed ¡°How precious! I shall not deter you, Greenshanks. Aye, it¡¯s real, and you¡¯ll find many treasures in it.¡±The author''s tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon. ¡°But the sword.¡± I asked ¡°Do you know if Ording is to be found there, too?¡± Now, that was a foolish thing for me to say. I told him I had been seeking a legendary sword there, but I hadn¡¯t named it. Aye, there were many great swords back then. ¡°Ording!?¡± he roared ¡°You seek that villain¡¯s knife?! Hah! Do your people seek to slay the last of my kind? No matter! I know not if that devious weapon is to be found there. Leave this place! I shall not host you, who seeks such a besmirched thing, again! No matter how much fine elk you bring me!¡± Stubborn old thing. It took eight full grown beasts before he would even look at me again. At the time, his anger meant little. I knew the cavern was real. I knew I wasn¡¯t setting out on a fool¡¯s errand. Tracking the cavern wasn¡¯t difficult, now that I knew I could trust my information. You know, it¡¯s always struck me as odd. I expected it to be lined with pillars and tapestries. Some magnificent place born out of a legend. It was just a squat little gap in the grey stone of the mountains. Still, I slipped through it well enough. After squeezing through the tunnel what I saw was¡­. Beautiful. You know what a grove is, right? In the forests? Aye, you married that wife of yours in one. It was much like that sort of place, though made of stone. A great chamber with a high roof studded in sparkling diamonds. Sunlight was fed in through a crack high up in the roof of the cave. At the center there was a lake with a little island in it. Damndest thing, there was a tree going there. White, like a birch tree, only with silver leaves. Maybe I was being a bit too romantic, but I thought it would be fitting to find Ording waiting for me there, resting against the tree, perhaps curled up in some gangly roots. Perhaps I¡¯d have to go through some mythical trial too free it. No such luck I¡¯m afraid, dear boy. Though I did find something far more fascinating there. Two birds. One red. One blue. Of course, birds could have flown in through the crevice up top, but these ones were special. They spoke. Aye, I said they spoke! ¡°He has arrived.¡± The blue bird whispered ¡°The man seeking a legend.¡± ¡°No no!¡± The red bird replied ¡°That¡¯s his stated purpose, but not what he truly seeks.¡± They chirped happily, like ordinary birds this time, then the blue spoke again. ¡°Perhaps we should ask his opinion and settle this disagreement! You there, human! We have an offer for you.¡± ¡°An offer?¡± I asked, good to be leery around animals who speak our tongue. Remember that boy ¡°What kind of offer?¡± ¡°Why, we¡¯ll take you to that which you see, of course!¡± The bird declared ¡°I will help you in your search for Ording.¡± The red bird fluttered down and quickly added its own offer. ¡°And I will help you seek out that which your heart most desires.¡± ¡°What does my heart most desire?¡± I asked it. ¡°Why, we won¡¯t know until we find it, of course.¡± ¡°Then I¡¯ll go with your friend.¡± The red bird snorted and went back to the tree. Look, lad, loyalty meant something in those. I wouldn¡¯t take a quest from a king and then abandon it. Besides, I¡¯m happy, aren¡¯t I? I¡¯ve lived a long, full life. What more could the red bird have shown me? Well, his blue partner leads me off down a tunnel far more spacious than the one I came in through. ¡°Is the sword here?¡± I ask the bird. ¡°I don¡¯t know.¡± It giggles back ¡°I said only that I¡¯d help you in your search!¡± ¡°Why you scoundrel-¡° ¡°Be calm, human! I¡¯m taking you to someone who will know exactly where it is. The weaver of destiny!¡± Well, as you can imagine, I wanted to rip the little bastard to pieces then and there, but I didn¡¯t have many options. Things tend to go that way when you deal with the supernatural, grandson. You remember that, now? I follow this little trickster, hoping the weaver of destiny it spoke of can help me. Before long, the damned bird has left me entirely in a cavern filled pitch black. It got so damned dark, I couldn¡¯t see an inch in front of me. I start working with a flint and tinder, seeing if I can get a torch lit. As I work, a voice speaks, not the bird, a new voice. Soft. Distant. Wavering. Quite disturbing, all things together. ¡°So Greenshanks comes seeking Ording.¡± It whispers ¡°Is it time for that, already? Hmn. The years grow late. I¡¯ve lost track of things. Must remember to pay better attention. Hmn.¡± ¡°Who said that!?¡± I shout back ¡°Speak! Demon!¡± ¡°Why, I said it, of course.¡± The voice snickers. The source of the speaking is moving. Above me. Beside me. Behind me. Above me again. ¡°I am the Weaver of Destiny.¡± ¡°Where is Ording? The Bird said you would help me find the sword, Ording!¡± ¡°The bird was wrong.¡± The voice said with a snicker ¡°Ording cannot be found, for Ording does not exist.¡± Now I¡¯m sure this doesn¡¯t mean a damned thing to a modern man like you, but to me, it was inconceivable. I lashed out. ¡°Liar!¡± I cried ¡°Where is the sword? Do not hide it from me!¡± The creature hissed, it came closer and closer. I could feel it bearing down upon me. ¡°Do not take that tone with me, human!¡± It spat ¡°Ording is a legend your people made to serve their own ends. The sword will not be found. The sword cannot be found. Fate brought you before me, so that you might learn this fact!¡± I lit my torch. I saw what it was I was speaking to. A giant spider. It clung to the wall of the chamber, which was far smaller than I would have liked, and full of webs. I swung at it with my torch and my blade. It only laughed at me as I ran through the caverns. ¡°Go, human!¡± It called as I fled ¡°Tell your people what you learned here!¡± I squirmed through the corridors and the great chamber. The tree was now dying and the birds were nowhere to be seen. Soon, I was out of the cave again. This is the first time I¡¯ve spoken of it to anybody. I couldn¡¯t tell other¡¯s what I¡¯d been told. I couldn¡¯t tell them what I saw, either. Oh, if I¡¯d come back with Ording, it would have been different. I could have fostered a legend. As it was, it would seem like a fantastical excuse. I knew the way these things went. My life as an adventurer was over. Well. That¡¯s my story. Make of it what you will. It¡¯s important to me that someone knows what happened in there, and it ought to be you, lad. The Wild Hunt In ancient days, long forgotten by man, The mighty elves rode across the land. They sat astride great elk, mighty steeds. In those days, renowned were their deeds. Their king was Elias, a hero among the Mer. He was greatly loved by all those who were fair. Strong enough to contend with giants and beasts. Possessed of cunning to match fairies at their feasts. But of all their rivals, the trolls were most despised.This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version. The green brutes were wicked creatures, to elfin eyes. Bulbous monsters full of hate, burning all in their wake. Elias in them saw a wicked horde for his people to break. He called his people together, man and woman, young and old. They would drive the trolls out, push them back into the cold. With spears and swords and bows, the trolls would be hunted. The fearless elves would leave the wretches forever stunted. From their great oaken castles, the elves rode out. Strong of arms, brave of heart, prepared for a fearsome bout. In the dark woods they found their long sought prey. Yelping, cheering elves rode forth to join the great fray. Four hours the battle went quite predictably. Soon, it seemed, the elves would taste victory. Alas, the Trolls had magic that the elves did not. Now unleashed, Elias saw what pride had wrought. Chaos ruled, dancing lights filled the air. A trap was sprung; the elves were ensnared. If the trolls were to die, their shamans declared. Then by these wicked elves their fate would be shared. Their dark cursed trapped all those present in that eternal moment. Man and woman, young and old, the elves would face endless torment. As time passed, the other races would name that dark forest haunted. For shadows of the elves and trolls trapped within fight on, undaunted.