Monarch of the Ten Rings - Tales of Camadorn

In the days of the Old Empire, the nyllians made five rings. Yet these were not ordinary rings, for these nyllians were great magicians. It is known that nyllians, while at first unassuming for being a foot shorter than a man and having a somewhat funny look to them, have the power to give blessings and utter curses that have power to them. It is their magic, and so they blessed the five rings to ensure that the wearer’s dominion would endure for as long as they wore it. Though they would not hold them long.
                 In another country, five other rings were made. Dark wizards crafted them to be used for purposes of evil. Each one was made with human magic and were made with dark understanding. Their powers were to manipulate, to dominate, to cast illusion, to alter, and to destroy. Evil they were, and the wizards were mightily feared because of it, and they did deeds which have been forgotten for the memory of them haunted all knowers.
                 Then there came Kasander, known as Emperor of All in those days, and brought down the proud and mighty. With overwhelming might he came, and with his own magic fought theirs, and with his army and wizards overcame the dark magicians. He then took the five rings, and while at first he wished to destroy them, he wondered at their power and held off on their destruction.
                 Then the five nyllian kings with their five rings were next, yet it was that no matter how many armies or wizards were sent, Emperor Kasander could not conquer them. The rings were the source of this, for in them were magics not fully understood, so the armies of the five kings were unbreakable. Until it was that Emperor Kasander used the five rings of the wizards and through deceit and corruption he took the rings of the five kings and then took their kingdoms in a single night. So Emperor Kasander embraced the power of the dark wizards’ rings, and with the rings of the nyllian kings became known in song as the Monarch of Ten Rings.
                 None could assail him or his empire so long as he wore the five rings on his right hand, and few could withstand the power of the rings on his left hand. So he named them, the nyllian enchanters’ rings were the Oliands or kings’ rings, which he had adjusted in size to fit his fingers, and the human wizards’ rings were called the Kaliands or destroyer rings. He wore them at all times, for he feared what his enemies or even allies might do if he let his guard down for a moment.
                 Upon Emperor Kasander’s death, he had left no word regarding the inheritance of his rings. Yet it seemed fair to his sons that the older brother should get the Oliands and the younger should get the Kaliands. The younger, named Heseil thought at first that he might use the Kaliands to usurp his older brother’s throne. Yet it was that the power of the Oliands made the newly crowned Emperor Inorin immune to the power of the Kaliands. So Prince Heseil began to plot a different way to the throne.
                 Emperor Inorin’s son Jeten was young and learning, so Heseil began to manipulate him. Whenever the power of the Oliands was brought up, Heseil made sure that Jeten did not listen to it and forgot whatever he knew of the power. It seemed a decent plan to Heseil, to make Jeten unknowing of the protection of the Oliands and so give him allowance to circumvent them. Yet the plan would fail, as Emperor Inorin and Prince Heseil both were killed in the same night by assassins from a scheming cousin.
                 When Prince Jeten, now Emperor, assumed the throne, he knew not the power of any of the ten rings, but he was one for great shows. Therefore, he wore the five Oliands, and would give one to any he would send out on official business. Meanwhile, the five Kaliands were given to the court magician as a token gesture, yet they had great power in them still and the mage knew that. Emperor Jeten was a weak ruler, yet popular among many circles.
                 Many generations of rulers passed, and only the court magicians truly knew the power of either the Oliands or the Kaliands. Eventually, there came an emperor who was a great swordsman and who enjoyed leading from the front of the battle. Yet in a battle, this emperor who was named Kezorn fought against a great and powerful madorn who cut the emperor’s right hand off at the wrist along with the Oliands. Emperor Kezorn left the rings behind as he fled to the rear of his army, and so began the fall of the Old Empire.
                 A series of ineffectual rulers followed Emperor Kezorn, and the army he had fought grew powerful. They soon gained allies, princes who had long grated under the empire’s rule and now wished to overthrow it. These princes elected among themselves five kings which would rule once the empire would be destroyed, and the empire put prices on their heads and named them traitors, and so began the Army of the Outlaw Kings. To each of these kings was given an Oliand as a symbol of power and alliance. So it would be that the kings would not be outlaws for long.
                 They stormed the capital the following year and destroyed it completely. Though the court wizard did his best, the five kings themselves led the charge against him and slew him on the steps of the imperial palace. What happened to the Kaliands is unknown after that, but most who know of them prefer to think they were dismantled for their base components long ago so as to make finer rings and the crystals which gave them their power were discarded and fed to pigs, never to be seen again. So it was that the capital city was leveled and the Old Empire fell.
                 So five mighty kings rose from this. They were Bevorm of Mradune, the war king; Tireth I of Nalorne, which later became one with the kingdom of Orthune, together being called Arkathorne; Sivor of Hirajorg, who was old and died soon into his reign; Hedrere of Cithur, which rules over the lands that the capital of the Old Empire once stood; and Kaborn the Incredible of Lidor, who had cut the Oliands from Emperor Kezorn’s hand. While other kingdoms may stand in their shadows, they will rule forever as long as they remember the power of the Oliands.

Voyage to Urthidun - Tales of Camadorn

In the days of the Old Empire, before their fall, a great catastrophe occurred in Hirajorg. The earth shook, shoots of fire and steam burst from the ground, and waters rose. Settlements were destroyed by catastrophe, and even the greatest city of Hirajorg, Berowaid, was lost beneath fire and water. Yet the strife of the realm did not end with the calming of the land.
                 The Old Empire had yet to incorporate Hirajorg into its realms, and so sailed an army to their shores in the wake of this. Any who would not submit were put to the sword, and those that became their slaves wished for such a death. The empire swept over the land and took what they wished. There was but one holdout on the western coast, a place that is now called the Garden of Giants.

If one is unfamiliar with the inhabitants of this land, it should be explained now. In Hirajorg and in other places of the world, there are those who some have called giants, though their proper name would be madorn. The madorns have the form like that of an abnormally tall human, usually even taller, and are rather bulky in proportions. They have curled horns most often, the shape of the curl usually denoting some heritage or another. The madorns of Hirajorg had bluish-gray skin, black or sometimes red hair, and yellow or orange eyes, yet those of other regions usually appear differently. To describe the temperament of all madorns is as impossible as to describe the temperament of all humans, but these at least were not normally prone to violence or acts of rebellion, at least not on a widespread scale. So their actions here are noteworthy indeed.

And so the madorns of Hirajorg saw the Old Empire coming, and some wished to fight them. Yet their elders counseled that fighting them would only end in their own destruction, so any other action was preferable. Yet there was one, neither elder nor youth, named Ijorg who would be called the Valiant hereafter. Ijorg counseled the elders that he and many others would rather die than serve under the empire. Yet the elders already knew that a third option was indeed called for.
                 So they chose to pick up what possession they would need or could not bear to part from, and march as one people to the nearest friendly port. There they hired the services of ships and crews to take them away, though they did not know where yet. With the empire fast upon the city, they put to sail before wind or wave was right, and left Hirajorg behind.
                 Their exodus was not entirely impulsive though. They had brought livestock and seed for whatever place they would settle, and what money they had left was guarded closely. They knew there were not enough ships for all of them, so it was decided who should go ahead. All but three of the elders were left behind, some couples were split, yet the children were left behind least of all. Sometimes, children would be entrusted to their parents’ siblings or family friends so that there would be room to bring them along. Ijorg the Valiant wished to stay behind for the sake of his kin, but the elders agreed that his energy would be necessary to keep the morale of their people from wasting away. It is not told here what happened to the madorns who stayed but only the ones who left.
                 The seas were calm their first weeks out of port, and while they did not go very far, their destination was still a mystery. They kept faith that there would be a purpose behind this, and it was helped by Ijorg the Valiant’s encouragement and the wise words of the elders. It was then that they continued the discussion of their flight and where it would be to.
                 Ijorg the Valiant took part in the discussion, as did the three elders who stayed with the group, whose names are recorded here. There was Lored the Old, whose father was Lored the Elder who stayed behind. There was Niliard the Fair, who first earned her name with beauty then by her judgements, and age had only been able to dull the first at all. And last of them was Broel the Powerful, who knew firsthand the heights their folk could achieve as he was a mighty man in his youth, and mightier than some even in old age. It was those three and Ijorg the Valiant that took counsel to find a new home.
                 It seemed the world was under the empire’s reign. They had heard tell of a land far to the southeast that was independent, yet it was a hostile land and deemed too dangerous for them to settle if they could even get there. When the ship captain whose craft they were using for this discussion overheard them, he noted that there were islands off the coast of Hirajorg that might prove fruitful to settle on. So they decided to allow this captain, whose name was Kroel, guide them to these island.
                 Yet as soon as the sea’s calm ended, storms of snow and rain bashed their ships. These were no galleons, for they had no ship like that at the time, but instead smaller craft. It was bad enough for the madorns being at sea, for few trusted in any sea craft to hold them, but the storm made things worse. Children cried into the night, and those parents they had left wished to join them. Yet Ijorg the Valiant joined the battle against the storm and helped the sailors in their struggles. By his lead, the madorns did what they could to keep the ship aloft, bucketing water or heaving robes. They did what the sailors told them to do and did it well. So they survived the six day storm, even if some did not.
                 Upon the storm’s end, they came across an island. It was small, and they knew that it would never sustain them all, but it was respite. The named it Joladun, or “rest island” in the common tongue, though it had other names on maps. There the people and their animals could roam about, free after weeks of being trapped onboard. Some wanted to stay, but Ijorg and the elders counseled against it.
                 Though it was there that a madorn woman would give birth. Her husband had been swept away in the storm, and it was her first child that she now delivered. Though it was difficult, she gave birth to a baby girl who she would name for the island they stopped at, Joladuni. The woman herself was named Belain the Caring, as she would often look after children and adults who were scared during the storm. Though Belain would take ill after her birth, due to fatigue gained from both the experience with the storm and birthing her child, she would recover, yet it prolonged their stay on Joladun.
                 The crew and some of the madorn men made repairs to them ships while they were ashore, while the sick were tended to by those who were wise in such matters. Captain Kroel oversaw much of this, and personally congratulated Belain the Caring upon her daughter’s birth. Ijorg came to respect Kroel, as he was a man of wisdom and empathy, though also one of courage. They became friends and leaders of the expedition, though often advised by the elders. Once the sick were well enough to travel and the ships were repaired, those who wanted to stay were greatly outnumbered so they came along when they set sail again for an island to live on.
                 Not a week since leaving the island, their small flotilla was attack by ships from the Old Empire. They had no patience for pirates nor rebels, and so attacked the ships carrying the madorns. Ijorg led the men in the defense of their ships, and Captain Kroel sent his first mate and many of his sailors to sabotage the enemy ships. Once the sabotage was done, the madorns managed to flee, the empire’s ships being too damaged to catch them. Though again several were lost, even if most of them survived.
                 Though the empire still would chase them until the Day of Fire. It was two months since they first set out from the cost of Hirajorg that a great pillar of steam rose out of the sea ahead of their ships, and a great roar echoed across the water. They knew not what it was, but then another joined in and then a third until the sea was blanketed by fog. After many hours, then the fog turned reddish-orange, and some said they saw fire towards where the pillars of steam had been. If it had not been the end of the world in Hirajorg, it seemed it was here now.
                 After three days of steam, fog, and glimpses of fire, the roaring of the water ended, and all was calm. After another two, the fog was blown away to reveal three great islands where the steam had once shot from. Upon these islands was no vegetation, but dark soil like they had seen at the foot of their mountains, and great mounds at the center of each isle. They sent men to survey the islands and found that at the center of these isles were pools of fire, yet the soil was rich indeed. So they decided to settle there, though kept the ships close at hand.
                 Then there was the matter of the sailors. Captain Kroel led them as they announced that most of them would not be returning to Hirajorg or the empire. They had come to respect the madorns and knew that they had no wish to become slaves of the empire. Therefore, they asked permission of their elders and Ijorg the Valiant—who was now called such after the storm and the battle—so that they might become one people with the madorns. The elders said that no law or ban would be passed among the madorns to keep the sailors from their people, and that they would be treated to the best of their ability just as their own. The sailors who did not wish to stay were allowed the smallest ship and enough supplies to make it back to Hirajorg. The sailors who did stay, more often than not, would marry into the families of the madorns and their children would eventually become indistinguishable from others apart from some having blond hair and being somewhat shorter.
                 Of the marriages, chief among them was Captain Kroel’s marriage to Belain the Caring. Though the groom was dwarfed by the bride—which was common between humans and madorns—it was a happy occasion. Many cheered for them and were glad in the following years when their children were born. It was the beginning of a happy time on the islands.
                 They would call the islands Urthidun, literally meaning “many home island” when translated into the common tongue, though most would more accurately say it is “home islands.” It was there that they built a new civilization, growing crops and raising livestock. They took the islands’ creation as a sign that this was land appointed to them, and so did not leave even to trade, and kept pirates and brigands from making any lair on their islands. They were happy even in their hardships in those days.
                 Yet five years after they settled, fire came from the mounds upon the islands, and they made for the ships. After three days they returned to find many of their homes and fields destroyed, but they rebuilt. Such would be the cycle for the next three hundred years as fire came from the mounds and made new land upon the waves, eventually making the three islands one.
                It was sometime after that some braved to return to the empire, to trade their excess for goods they needed. It was then they learned that the empire had fallen, destroyed by the Army of Outlaw Kings. The tradesmen brought back this news to Urthidun, they rejoiced and began to openly trade with many, though they never did allow outsiders to come to their island and instead used the isle of Joladun as a trading post.
                 As such, the madorns of Urthidun became famous as one of the only madorn cultures that took to the sea. Some say it is because they had the blood of human sailors, but other say that they had to adopt it. In any case, the location of Urthidun is unknown to any but the madorns native to the island, who are called Urthiads. It has been said to be a bastion of good and a place where there is little woe, yet others assume it is like any other land, only disconnected from the rest of the world. Yet their tale has been said, and their character can be judged from it.

Last Gift of the Elder - Tales of Camadorn

It was the Elder who taught us magic. No one knows who he was or what he was exactly, but he was ancient and powerful. Yet most importantly he was knowledgeable. He knew the gifts given to each better than they did and taught them how to use them. Without him, shape-changers would think themselves humans. To us, to humans, he taught much.
                 He taught we humans our magic and learned much of ourselves. We learned to grow kasult crystals from bits of rare salts and use them to store our understanding of the world. And he taught us how to take that understanding of the world and use it to shape that world in new ways. And that was his great gift to us all, each a knowledge of their magic, yet it was not his last gift.

A call went out to five who were worthy. They were Kaler the Forrester, Mashor the Fisherman, Nald the Mason, Ufol the Mariner, and Ijord the Trapper. These five were called, and they would answer.
                 Mashor the Fisherman was perhaps the first to rise from his home, and from there he traveled onward. He met up with Nald the Mason, who was second, and journeyed onward. Ufol the Mariner sailed towards the calling as best he could, and Kaler was brought up from his forest by Mashor and Nald. Last of all was Ijord the Trapper, who rose from his dwelling in Hirajorg, where fire flows from the earth, and water either freezes or boils, and traveled to the coast where he met Ufol the Mariner. Yet despite this, they all arrived at the same place at the same time, the mountain of the Elder: Hithermount.
                 So the Elder gave each a kasult crystal, grown in the tears of a lion, and in each came a complete understanding of a thing. To Mashor the Fisherman was the crystal with the understanding of water, ice, and snow. To Nald the Mason was the understanding of earth and stone. To Ufol the Mariner was granted the understanding of air, wind, and weather. To Kaler the Forrest was granted the understanding of beasts, birds, and plants. Yet to Ijorn the Trapper was given the most dangerous of all the gifts, the understanding of fire.
                 Then Kaler the Forrester spoke up. He thought anything he did not understand was nonsense and included this as such. So he said, “We are no magicians. How are we to use any of these?”
                 And the Elder spoke. “Many a wizard has no understanding of what he wields, only what others have wielded. Yet you already possess the right understanding of what your magic shall bring about. Nald the Mason knows what stone is, its weight and its weakness, yet if you asked a magician he would not know a thing, only that it may be raised in dramatic display. And you, Kaler, you know nature as one season moves to another, and how each animal and plant work together though they do not know it, and you know not to upset that balance.
                 “Yet perhaps the most important understanding is Ijorn the Trapper’s.” All eyes went to the man from Hirajorg. “He knows both the power and importance of fire. He knows it can burn, wipe away villages and towns, and scar those who get too close. Yet he knows also that from the deepest depths of the earth comes fire from which the most bountiful harvests may grow. He knows that the difference between freezing and relaxing is a good hearth. Yet he knows that hearth will destroy him if he becomes careless about it. You five were no accidents; you were chosen to be wizards, and most importantly, to know your power better than all those in the world now.”
                 And so the Elder passed, though how is not known. He did not die, but disappeared from the world, as if his work was complete. And perhaps it was, for a humble wizard named Gilandros came forth to teach the five who had received the gifts. And from those five came the greatest wizards of all time.
                 Each held his crystal a different way. Kaler the Forrester, now known as Kaler of the Green, set his crystal above the head of his axe, as in that way his mastery of the woods would be complete. Ijorn the Trapper, now called Ijorn the Fiery, carried his crystal in a peculiar staff which from the crystal upwards became a torch. Nald the Mason, now called Nald the Earthen, took his pick axe and set the crystal where wood and iron met, much like Kaler of the Green had done, yet it was useless now to swing though that use was not needed. Ufol the Mariner, now called Ufol the Longwinded as a joke, placed his above his spyglass, so that he may at once know where both are and if a storm was coming. And as for Mashor the Fisherman, he was known as Mashor the Simple, as he placed his crystal in a lantern which he could hang from his belt. Yet what is a tool if one does not use it?
                 The five, once Gilandros had taught them all he could, became known as the Order of the Ways. This order was not like other wizard orders, who would conquer as a king or for a king, but instead they served to guide. In their understandings came wisdom, and the Order of the Ways would teach magic in different ways so as to understand the nature of things. While they would occasionally lend power to a cause of arms, it was only if all five agreed to it, as they knew that the kings of the day do not last forever, and they had become unbounded to all. So they gave advice and dealt with guiding destruction away from the people.
                 Though it could not last, as the mortality of humans is a sure thing. Their crystals could not be used by any others, except those of their choosing. So each of these wizards had taken apprentices, and the one who most pleased them was chosen to carry on the power of their crystal. Yet a pact arose that no one could study under more than one of them, nor carry more than one crystal to use. So when Nald the Earthen died, his apprentice took his place and became Bunond the Stalwart. Such the Order of the Ways maintained themselves for many years, and though wisdom might give way to foolishness sometimes, they endured as guardians against evil and advisors to the wise. Such was the last gift of the Elder.

White Horses - Tales of Camadorn

Many stories tell of shape-changers, those who may have one form and turn into another. Most of the time this is an animal form turning into a human-like form, though they retain certain traits between these transformations. For example, one whose animal form is a stallion will turn into a man, and a mare will turn into a woman. Yet this example is not random, as the subject of today requires first an understanding of the most blessed and benevolent of all the shape-changer folk: the Ildyana.
                 The Ildyana have aided the world many a time, following their fates wherever they are needed, and being perhaps our greatest earthly ally against evil. Their animal forms are that of horses, yet how can such a word as “horse” describe them? They make the most beautiful and mighty of all horses and are unassailable through normal means. That might and beauty is also present in their human-like forms. Their magic also is unlike most of the world, yet it will be illustrated well enough in our story today that I need not describe it.

Long ago, the kingdom of Mradune invaded the country Orthune, which fought against them with the help of their allies from the kingdom of Nalorne. The kingdoms fought fiercely, and the balance of power shifted many times during that war. Yet in the closing days of the war, Mradune seemed invincible, and so despair gripped many hearts.
                 Though in that despair or despite it rose one of the most valiant heroes of the old kingdom of Orthune: Jorold the Swift. He gave battle to Mradune, but he was not enough to stem the tide. Therefore, he sought out an Ildyana to serve as a mount so that his land would be saved. He knew this hope might be vain, but it was all that was left.
                 In the forests, he found what he described as the most beautiful thing he has ever or will ever see. A woman, white in hair and pallor, yet with dark eyes. Graceful she was, and the beauty of her white gown was only surpassed by the beauty of the wearer. Her feet were bare despite the rough ground, yet no dirt or twig could be seen on them or the hem of her dress. It was as if she were separate from the world yet visible. And she asked in a voice like sunlight, “Why have you come to the forest?”
                 The woman’s beauty baffled him and so he could not withhold any truth from her. Jorold said, “I seek an Ildyana so that I may ride into battle without fear and save my country from tyranny.”
                 The woman nodded with a smile. “And is that the only reason?”
                 “Yes,” he said, truthfully. While some mighty seek glory, Jorold had no aspirations towards that. He already had more than enough for himself, and so wished only to save his fellows from the rule of Mradune.
                 A light surrounded the woman then, and when it faded there stood a magnificent white horse. It had no saddle nor was it shod, but a finer horse could not be found in all the stables of the kings. Jorold now knew that he had been speaking to an Ildyana. She said, “My name is Haryain, and it is my fate and my wish to ride for the good of your kings.”
                 So Jorold rode her back to the camp of Orthune’s army, and there it was war. Orthune and Nalorne had been giving battle to Mradune for a day now, and it was now time for the sides to rest before the next battle. The camp was well fortified and well supplied, but it would all be for naught if there were no soldiers to fight. The next day would see fierce battle indeed.
                 In preparation, Haryain was fitted with a saddle. However, she would not bear any bridle nor be shod, for neither was necessary. She would not be housed with horses either, but instead she transformed into a human and had a tent of her own. Yet these accommodations did not keep her from battle.
                 On the second day of battle, Jorold rode out on Haryain, who wore no armor for it was not necessary. They were at the point of every cavalry charge and gave the army of Mradune the most trouble. They forced the enemy towards their camp and it was like that when night fell and the armies withdrew from each other, yet not to their camps. Smaller camps were made and defenses raised to keep their ground on the battlefield. It would be necessary for the third day.
                 On the third day, when Mradune’s cavalry charged, the lines of Orthune and Nalorne were greatly diminished. Men with spear and shield were sent in to secure victory, yet King Uril of Orthune led his cavalry against the side of this force. At King Uril’s side was Jorold the Swift astride Haryain, and they charged valiantly. Though as they charged, arrows fired from Mradune’s line and struck many a man, including King Uril and Jorold the Swift. The charge was broken up, and so Orthune’s men retreated to their back.
                 King Uril was carried back, but he died before he could reach a healer’s touch. An arrow had pierced Jorold’s chest and he fought for life, yet it seemed a losing battle. Haryain carried him back to the walls of the camp, though it did not seem enough. So Haryain placed her hands on Jorold, and when they pulled the arrow out, the wound closed and left naught but a scar and dried blood. There was a cost though.
                 The next day, as they prepared for battle and Haryain transformed into Jorold’s steed, he noticed something. A scar shaped and placed similarly to his own from the arrow wound. He asked, and she responded, “Just as you shall carry your scar for the rest of your life, I shall carry this one. To save you from the wound, I gave it to myself and healed both of them. Let us not speak of this again.”
                 So Jorold prepared to ride out upon Haryain as Mradune closed in. Jorold led the cavalry out through a gate unwatched by enemies and led the crashing of steel against those enemies in front of the camp’s walls. Caught between the hammer and the anvil, Mradune’s army quickly fell apart and they soon surrendered. Thus the war ended with the dissolvement of Mradune’s army.
                 Yet as the sun set on the day of victory, Haryain bade farewell to Jorold. Yet he could not bear to part with her, so asked for her hand in marriage. She said, “It is neither my fate nor my will to do this. Yet know that you are not the last Champion to ride an Ildyana, and there will be one who shall decide the fates of many. Farewell, Jorold, as you are greatly blessed.”
                 So Haryain returned to the wilds, where the Ildyana hide and only come out when they are fated to. Jorold indeed went on to be greatly honored, raise a family, and be at peace, yet he would never forget the most beautiful horse who was also the most woman he’d ever seen. And that, for good or ill, is how it ended.