[Available in most Solinar book stores, the Library and various traveling merchants.]
Claran'nathar: The Guardian of the Dead -- Part Two
Parts Orated by Unknown
Written by Sammal Ynand
Most loved reader, it has come to my attention that a number of you believe that I have split this great tale into two parts only to gather more gold coins from your silk stringed purses.
This is not true I cry. This is wrong. I only split this greatest of all tales in two so I might be able to drive home the importance of the message in this tale. Live for yourself, don't live for others. That and my Auto-Scribe 2000 broke...
So now here we are at the doorstep of the greatest tale ever scribed. Here we are at a masterpiece of words. Here we are at the final installment of Claran'nathar: The Guardian of The Dead.
+Sammal+Sammal+
The lamplight flickered as I gazed down upon the road worn maps laid out upon my bed. I would be leaving for the bustling docks of Naronis soon and I wanted to have the route carved into my mind.
I rubbed my tired eyes nd was about to turn off the oil lamp and catch a few hours sleep when I thought i heard a soft tapping at my door. I frowned and listened, but for some time it did not return so I undressed and slid in between the soft feather covers of my bed drifting slowly into sleep.
Then it came again. I knew I had not imagined it this time the tapping was as clear as Laa Acela glass in the silence of the night. I rose up out of the warmth and sanctuary of my bed and padded over to the door, clad only in my night gown and bunny slippers. The floorboards creaked as I walked -- I mentally cursed the gods of dramatics at this. The handle of the door felt cold as I opened it and when I saw what stood on the other side I could not help myself, I lost my breath.
The human maiden before me had skin pale and as flawless as the gleaming moon. Her hair was like the white gold used in electrum pieces and shone in the flickering lamp light of the hall. She looked at me with eyes like the glistening emeralds gathered from the the Myst Forest Mines, they were flecked with small spots of gray that told of a sadness that her stance and the dark dress she wore mirrored.
"Sammal Ynand, storyteller from Kymlun?" The woman asked me, her voice light, like fine elven wine. Entranced by her tragic beauty I could only nod.
"I have come to tell you of the Silver Dragon you approached five days ago."
She entered without introducing herself and led me to a writing desk that was still covered by parchment I had left out to be packed before I left.
"I will talk, you will write."
She spoke softly but with command and the small hand that perched atop her strangely pommeled longsword told me I had little choice but to comply. I say strangely pommeled because I could not help but notice that it had been shaped into that of the head of a Silver Dragon. So this woman must be a follower then, I mused.
"Who are you?" I asked taking up my feather quill and dipping it into the dark pot of ink beside me. "I need to be able to say who told me the tale."
"No you do not." He woman stated gripping my shoulder tightly in warning, beginning her tale.
"Claran'nathar was a great silver who lived in the Kattash Mountains of what is now the sunken island of Kaig. Her life up until the age of ninety-six was uneventful, she had secured a fine lair, her hoard was of a good size and her territory uncontested. She was happy."
"Then one day a young elven Knight of The Rose climbed the dangerous route to her lair. The Knight came before Claran'nathar and bowed low, removing his tale helmet. He informed Claran'nathar that a few days travel beyond her borders a Red was ravaging the villages and farms. He asked her for aid in defeating the evil dragon. Taken by his bravery she nodded and went with him to fight the Red."
"The battle was long and hard and the young Knights heart was almost stopped in his chest by the Reds claws. Impressed by the young Knight Claran'nathar took him back to her lair."
"In the long months it took to nurse the Knight back to health the Knight, Gillianian Dourana, and Claran'nathar became firm friends. Thus when her left to continue his quest to remove the evil dragons from Kaig she chose to go with him in her human form."
"For many years they traveled and fought together. When the Dourana family was chosen by fate to become the Royal Family of Kaig she remained with him. By her one-hundredth and twenty-forth summer she had birthed three sons and a daughter to Gillianian and although she continued to mate with others of her race he was her life-mate."
The woman turned away from me and I sensed her tale was not going to continue in its happy state.
"before Gillianians four-hundred and fiftieth summer a evil cleric put a curse on the Dourana family, stripping them of the long life their elven blood gifted them. Claran'nathar quickly hunted down the Cleric but the damage had been done, the curse could not be lifted. After just three-hundred and thirty-six years together, Gillianian died. Claran'nathar was only four-hundred and thirty-four and not ready for such a loss."
The woman stalled here and was unable to continue her tale for a few moments, I just silently sat waiting. This was like a tale I had never heard before.
"Claran'nathar chose to stay around the Dourana family to watch over her half-silver offspring and as time passed they passed away and she then watched their children. From her grandchildren to her great grandchildren. For generations she watched over the Dourana bloodline. Acting as adviser and guardian to the Kings and Queens of Kaig."
"It came then to be her nine-hundredth summer and the time of the last King of Kaig, Darveni Dourana. For years Claran'nathar had been taken to re-walk the paths she and Gillianian had once walked, alone with her memories it was on those roads, long forgotten by man, that she fell upon a young human boy."
The womans hand started to tightly grip the hilt of her sword and her eyes flashed dangerously.
"The childs name was Mortican DeMilo."
My quill paused midway through writing that name and I turned my head to face her. I swallowed I had heard of Mortican, he was greatly feared in the North and I had been traveling those lands for long enough to permit a slight shudder and the mention of his name.
Mortican had been blamed for many of the tragedies and evils I may sometimes write about in the Savage North. Things like the destruction of Kaig, the fall of the great city of Kattash and the Knights of The Rose, these were all said to be his doing and so much more. Recently rumors had started to spread of his defeat, but most people in the Savage North believe him to be beyond death and just waiting to execute some greater evil.
"The childs master; Magius Maldorun the greatest wizard to ever walk Kaig had finally been kill by the Witch Hunters of the Pendragoon family. Claran'nathar took pity on the child and took him in. She taught him everything she knew and eventually he was even able to break the cursed placed all those many years ago by the evil cleric. When he came of age Claran'nathar posted him as the cheif adviser to King Darveni and with Mortican's aid his rule was seen as one of the greatest Kaig ever saw."
"One day Mortican gathered all the mages of Kaig to a meeting with the head of the Pendragoon family. Informed by Mortican that the talk would bring an end to the Witch Hunts no mages failed to turn up."
"Before the talk Mortican was approached by a powerful outside named Unsandee. Unsandee showed him that the Pendragoon family only wished to trap the mages rather than accept the talks. The outsider promised Mortican the power to stop the hunts should he do as commanded. Mortican agreed."
"Under Unsandee's directions Mortican blindly executed a ritual with his few chosen nine mages. He then went to the talks. Midway through the talks Mortican uttered the words that would finish the ritual. The life force of everybody present was ripped out and thrust into Mortican. Morticans mind was destroyed by the horror he had committed."
"Vowing to take war on death itself he cast a powerful spell upon the island of Kaig. The spell snatched the life away from those it touched and turned them into mindless Zombies. Those it did not kill were twisted into monsters. Some standing like dogs others with wings or testicles. His fall was sudden and utter. As was the destruction of Kaig and the Dourana family he had vowed to serve."
"Claran'nathar was away at council with the rest of the silver Flight when it happened. She returned the moment she heard and in her grief battled Mortican. He proved to be too powerful for even her mastery of magick. Unable to defeat Mortican Claran'nathar hunted down the creatures her family had become and gave them the gift of death."
"Taking the bodies in her claws she flew here, to Mexon, where the last Dourana lived. The mausoleum was built and the bodies placed in final rest there. After so many years the last Dourana passed away and joined his kin in the mausoleum. Claran'nathar vowed then that if unable to defend them in life. She would at least guard their rest."
The woman fell silent her tale told. The scratching of my quill finally ceased and I turned to her. Silent tears marked her beautiful face.
"You will return to Kymlun and make sure this tale is published," She ordered me, "Claran'nathar has recently heard that the Darveni's son still lives."
"There is still one Dourana left?" I asked, she nodded.
"Yes and she wishes him to know that it was her failure that doomed his family. He honors her more than she deserves. She is not worth the amount he loves her. She wishes that he concentrate on his life and not pleasing a long forgotten dragon who has no mate, no honor and no hoard."
"I will make it known to the world" I managed to say after some time. I knew that this would be the greatest tale I had ever heard and nothing would stop me from telling you, my beloved reader, from reading it. After returning to Kymlun I took a look at my notes on Kaigian History and found that Darveni had died one-hundred and sixteen years ago! How many years of sadness had she endured so that even now the knowledge that one Dourana still lived could not bring her happiness. I vowed her tale would be told.
*That would make Claran'nathar 803
Last edited by Illy-Dan on Sep 19th, '07, 18:44, edited 1 time in total.
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