Now the six daughters came to the private hall of their house, as they were bidden, and Licoann came also. When they had gathered, Tiendar and Venyai described and read out the proposals. The eldest of Dyavan’s sons was to marry the eldest of Tiendar’s daughters, second eldest with second eldest, and so on. They spoke quietly among each other for a while, exchanging thoughts and impressions of the suggested arrangements, and the suitors. At this (for little could be made of their true intentions and the color of their hearts), Licoann told of the glances and furtive peeks during the feasts last summer.
At this Neler, the eldest daughter shook her head, but did not speak until she had thought a little more. “I know not what to say of this, for though truly they ask for our hands in marriage, who but Amentoris can judge their spirits and deepest thoughts? Nevertheless, we must discern what we may. What say you, Father, Mother?”
Tiendar and Venyai heard this, and remained silent for a while. Venyai ancient gray hair gleamed briefly like silver, as did Tiendar’s beard, but then it stopped. They turned up to their children, and smiled somberly. “Perhaps, it would be wise to bid the sons of Dyavan to come again to our house, so our children may speak with them, as is the ancient custom. However, we must be wary, and keep our eyes and ears and minds open and alert. Then we shall make our choice.”
And so it was. The messengers were sent back to Dyavan’s household, at which, when Dyavan heard the reply, brought his sons together and was furious, for he hadn’t until then realized what his sons had done. “What is the meaning of this? Your iniquity is testament to the training of your mother and scorning of your father!”
Alas, the father sent his sons away to Tiendar’s house, though without his blessing, and sent them with many gifts and golden-made objects to the house of Tiendar (to make all appearance all was well in the Court of Dyavan). The six sons left immediately, and sojourned for two weeks and two days. They were welcomed into the house, though not as warmly as when Dyavan had first come, for the daughters were careful and wary.
For the first and second days, the brothers remained ever courteous, constantly being good in seemingly all ways. But during the third day, Thelin the Eldest son requested that he and his brothers could speak with the Sisters. The message was sent to Tiendar (who was elsewhere in his realm). To this, Tiendar accepted, though he insisted that he and Licoann be there at each meeting, for Tiendar had desired to be careful with this potential arrangement.
Thelin and the Brothers consented, and so Thelin, the eldest, met with Neler the Eldest, as was the custom. Tiendar and Licoann sat between the two, but watched closely. They met by the lakeside, and spoke. Neler asked of Thelin many questions, of interests, of wisdom, of passions, and of morality. What she found in the Thelin the Fay was warlike of heart, strong in will, brave, but lacked the control to hold his own might. Yet, though she was not pleased, she spoke a little more before until sunset arrived, and they group left for the evening meal.
The next day, the second eldest, Baranin, and the second eldest, Feian met. They spoke, and Feian found the same in his heart.
Then Borthonin met with Thiendori, then Carin with Pienhor, then Thruilin and Lerya, and then finally Thruanin with Treyal. After this, the family of Tiendar took counsel once more, and they spoke as one. They all found, though, that the Sons of Dyavan were as Neler had perceived; willful, uncontrolled, fearless, yet not disciplined in righteousness or the way of right. Their father had seen this, but had perceived also a kind of darkness over his heart whenever he saw the swords at the Brothers’ waists. This he spoke of none to, except Venyai (many a season later). This was one of the least wise of the acts of Tiendar, though he was discerning and upright throughout his immortal days on Endramius. Perhaps had he brought his troubled thoughts to Amentoris the Wise, the course of events may have differed, but he did not, and he regretted his silence.
But for the time, Tiendar spoke carefully, and he and his family declined the brothers’ proposals. But though they refused, they still invited the Sons of Dyavan to a great feast at Tiendar’s table. A messenger was sent, and Thelin received the news in his apartments (for all guests of Tiendar and Venyai were given large staying quarters). Thelin read this, and was infuriated, and he flew into a terrible rage, for ever had his desire been growing, and his initial disappointment turned itself into the black form of hate. He then read the message to his brothers, and they too became angry. Now in his rage, Thelin devised a second wicked scheme, now for the purpose of obtaining vengeance. He suggested this, “My brothers, we have been scornfully rejected by the great house of Tiendar the Steward. He and his household have believed that their place shall be happier without our presence here. We must deprive them of happiness forever! We, of the Greater Fays, sons of Dyavan the Mighty, shall, by this time in three days, slay the six daughters of Tiendar!”
It was done. They declined the feast, and pretended to need to be on their way home, on the pretense their father was expecting them. They then left, cordially making their farewells and blessings upon the household of Tiendar. But they only had left the borders of Tiendar’s realm before they stopped, and camped there. Every day they would move silently towards the Dinkaron Lake, and waited for the six daughters to pass by. The first and second day yielded nothing. But on the third day, Thelin (who had been scouting, sighted the six daughters with Licoann their brother, and he quickly returned to his camp to alert his brothers. They were ready, and ever so silently they crept back into Tiendar’s realm.
They sighted the Stewards again, and stalked them silently. Alas, when they had stopped by the lakeside for a drink, the six brothers sprang their trap, and rushed out of the woods. Licoann drew his sword the instant he saw them, and he call his sisters to go behind him. Then Thruanin fell upon Licoann first, with his sword drawn, and the two fought fiercely. Thelin drew his sword out, and slew Licoann from a mighty spear thrust from his side. The other brothers rushed upon the sisters. They had at first intended to rape the six Stewards, but Thruanin and Thelin had been adamant, for they wanted nothing other than their swords to touch the six daughters. The other brothers consented, and, one by one, the slowly plunged their swords into the six daughters they had once desired.
As each daughter fell, each cried out “May Amentoris remember us!”
Then each perished.
Neler fell first, followed by Feian, then Thiendori, then Pienhor, then Lerya, then finally, Treyal. Treyal wept bitterly, for she had to see all her other sisters slain. Then she wept for a moment, and said, “May my blood yet bless this reddened ground!” Then Thruanin’s sword fell upon her heart, and she died.
The six brothers left.
When Tiendar and Venyai did not see their children again for the evening meal, they began to grow worried, for their trip was to be a short one. Then they, with troubled hearts, began to send search parties in search of them. The searcher found their dead bodies on the ground in the northern stretch of the lake. They brought their slain bodies to Venyai, then Tiendar. The whole household wept for many a season afterward.
Now Amentoris the Wise saw his faithful Servant’s distress, and he came down from his great abode in Thol-Maran to speak with Tiendar and Venyai. When he first came down, he did not speak, but only sat down and wept with them. Then, when they had settled themselves, Amentoris spoke to them.
“My friend, I have heard your sorrow, and have seen the sadness in your eyes. I come to pay my deepest condolences.”
Then Tiendar looked up and said, “My Lord, You have come!”
Amentoris smiled sadly, and held Tiendar’s hand firmly, and comfortingly.
They spoke quietly of things, of other things, that took Tiendar’s and Venyai’s minds off of sorrow. But their minds came back to their children’s murder. And they beseeched Amentoris the Mighty, “Oh great One, could You not have prevented it? Could You not have allowed them to live?”
Amentoris looked into their eyes, and his eyes were sorrowful. “Oh my dear friend, I cannot explain all now, but one day, when the world is no more and you will return to dwell with me in Thol-Maran, I can explain, but for now, I cannot.”
“But, as a reminder, and a gift, I will give you my last token of love to you.” He pointed to the sky. “See that bow of seven colors in the firmament. Of red, and orange, and yellow, and green, and blue, and sea-indigo blue, and violet. That shall be my gift. May it be a bittersweet reminder for all of us to see, in memory of each of the colors that your children had chosen as their own,” he paused, “Then may this be. A gift, a reminder, a joy, a sorrow, a beam of hope to this world, as Endramius may endure.”
Then Amentoris’s presence left them. Leaving the rainbow to hang there, for the rest of time.
Showing posts with label fantasy. Show all posts
Showing posts with label fantasy. Show all posts
Bidal-Karon
Sunday, July 19, 2009
Starting a 2-part series. Another addition to my little stock of Tyatoran legends (haha!).
In the later years and seasons after the Great Making, and after the Rebellion of Jalkir, there were yet many of the faithful stewards of Endramius. Among which, the wisest of their number, were chosen to be the Jyelvarin, the Princes, by Amentoris Himself. Each of these Princes, were delegated tasks and regions to care for and look after, as time and earth may endure. Each was given one place to call their own; some were given mountains, some rivers, some principles or natural laws to supervise. They and their households would watch over the land, as a gardener over a great field, or a Guardian over a doorway. They were not masters of the land, only caretakers, for their duty was different from that of us mortals. Yet, for this, they were content to be, and they lived happy ages, and still live on, throughout the Seasons of Endramius.
Among these Jyelvarin, Lord Tiendar set up his stewardship of the Lake of Dinkaron, of the Merry Heart. He and his wife, Venyai, cultivated the land surrounding the lake, and caused the fish and water-flowers of the lake to flourish. Beautiful was the land under his and his fair wife’s care.
It came to pass that Venyai became with child, and she gave birth to their first daughter, Neler. After her, Venyai had another daughter, Feian. And after Feian, came the Twin Sisters, Thiendori and Pienhor. After the Twins, Venyai had two more daughters, Lerya, and Treyal. And finally, Tiendar and Venyai, had their last child, a son named Licoann.
And many long years passed, as the household grew larger and merrier with the laughter of young children, and the sound of music was constant. Many a traveler and pilgrim, even Solemn Lathur, came to see the shimmering lake of Dinkaron, and bear gifts to the great house of Tiendar and Venyai. Of gifts, they refused, but instead constantly gave, and despite it, they grew wealthier and greater still. Truly and mightily was the blessing of Amentoris upon them.
Their daughters and son grew tall and fair, as was the appearance of all the great Stewards. And they each took upon themselves a robe to the shade of color that was their own. Neler took maroon, Feian took the hue of citrus, The Twin Sisters each took to themselves the shades of gold and forest green. Lerya took the blue of rivers, while Treyal took the shades of the Blue Sea. Licoann took the rich violet that symbolized tenacity and loyalty.
Now very fair were these, especially among the daughters, of which there was no comparison on Endramius, though none among them were the greater. They were raised faithfully in the way of Amentoris, and they faithfully took on and upheld that which they had been taught.
As it was, to the south, there were the Greater Fays, led by King Dyavan, which means Gleaming Sword. He, among all the other fays of Endramius, opposed Jalkir heavily, and was one of the most upright and warlike of his race. He had six sons, Thelin, Baranin, Borthonin, Carin, Thruilin, and Thruanin. They, like their father, were warlike and strong, yet unlike their father, and more like their mother, were impulsive and less upright.
Alas, when King Dyavan and his sons came to visit Tiendar and his household, he came bearing many gifts. As was his custom, Tiendar refused, and instead treated his mighty guest with many feasts and celebrations. At the time, the seven children of Venyai and Tiendar had been off to deal with a large infestation of weeds on the Northern Lakeside. A messenger was sent to tell them to return for the feasts.
On the fifth day of celebrations, they came, having dealt with the large bulk of weeds. Down they came, in their flying robes, and spent the day readying for the night’s merriment.
That night, they came to the feast, for King Dyavan and his sons were staying but for one more night. And on this day, the six brothers first met the Steward maidens of Tiendar. At first sight, the brothers found these sisters very beautiful, but they kept their thoughts secret, to each other and to their father. However, throughout the merry-making and celebrations, the six brothers’ eyes were ever on the daughters of Tiendar. Licoann, though, by chance saw their furtive glances and was troubled by that flash in their pupils, but he spoke of this not, for he decided such suspicions as folly.
The next day, Dyavan returned to his realm, with his sons and their retinues. Dyavan, upon their departure and return, noticed a cloud over his sons’ heads. He was wary for a while, but let it slide off over the weeks to come. In truth, the brothers had great desire for the maidens of Dinkaron, and time oft breeds greater desire for all manner things. Their desire ever grew greater, and in time they spoke among themselves about it. They had all considered asking their father to arrange a series of weddings between they and the Stewards, but pride stubbornly held them back.
Finally, Thelin, the eldest of Dyavan’s sons, suggested a plan that surely would allow them to arrange marriages of their desires. It was a crafty and conniving plan, but impulse and want overruled morality and uprightness.
“Let us then invite our father to a feast, and make him drunken with heavy wine. Upon this, we will persuade him to give us all a promise, and we will arrange our plans well. We will send the messages to the King Tiendar. When our father has awoken from his stupor, he will have no opposition to our plans, and will not realize his decisions the day before.”
Thruanin, the youngest, heard this proposal, and was unhappy. His love for his father was no greater than that of his brothers, but his standards were more upright, and he was reluctant to partaking in the plan. But his desire too overruled his conscience, and he remained silent.
The sons of Dyavan executed the plan. All went as was expected, and messengers were sent to Tiendar’s household, bearing proposals. The bearers of the messages were welcomed cordially by Tiendar, and their proposals were considered. Venyai and Tiendar called his family together from their duties and held a private council among them.
And that is where we stop for this post. To be continued. . .
In the later years and seasons after the Great Making, and after the Rebellion of Jalkir, there were yet many of the faithful stewards of Endramius. Among which, the wisest of their number, were chosen to be the Jyelvarin, the Princes, by Amentoris Himself. Each of these Princes, were delegated tasks and regions to care for and look after, as time and earth may endure. Each was given one place to call their own; some were given mountains, some rivers, some principles or natural laws to supervise. They and their households would watch over the land, as a gardener over a great field, or a Guardian over a doorway. They were not masters of the land, only caretakers, for their duty was different from that of us mortals. Yet, for this, they were content to be, and they lived happy ages, and still live on, throughout the Seasons of Endramius.
Among these Jyelvarin, Lord Tiendar set up his stewardship of the Lake of Dinkaron, of the Merry Heart. He and his wife, Venyai, cultivated the land surrounding the lake, and caused the fish and water-flowers of the lake to flourish. Beautiful was the land under his and his fair wife’s care.
It came to pass that Venyai became with child, and she gave birth to their first daughter, Neler. After her, Venyai had another daughter, Feian. And after Feian, came the Twin Sisters, Thiendori and Pienhor. After the Twins, Venyai had two more daughters, Lerya, and Treyal. And finally, Tiendar and Venyai, had their last child, a son named Licoann.
And many long years passed, as the household grew larger and merrier with the laughter of young children, and the sound of music was constant. Many a traveler and pilgrim, even Solemn Lathur, came to see the shimmering lake of Dinkaron, and bear gifts to the great house of Tiendar and Venyai. Of gifts, they refused, but instead constantly gave, and despite it, they grew wealthier and greater still. Truly and mightily was the blessing of Amentoris upon them.
Their daughters and son grew tall and fair, as was the appearance of all the great Stewards. And they each took upon themselves a robe to the shade of color that was their own. Neler took maroon, Feian took the hue of citrus, The Twin Sisters each took to themselves the shades of gold and forest green. Lerya took the blue of rivers, while Treyal took the shades of the Blue Sea. Licoann took the rich violet that symbolized tenacity and loyalty.
Now very fair were these, especially among the daughters, of which there was no comparison on Endramius, though none among them were the greater. They were raised faithfully in the way of Amentoris, and they faithfully took on and upheld that which they had been taught.
As it was, to the south, there were the Greater Fays, led by King Dyavan, which means Gleaming Sword. He, among all the other fays of Endramius, opposed Jalkir heavily, and was one of the most upright and warlike of his race. He had six sons, Thelin, Baranin, Borthonin, Carin, Thruilin, and Thruanin. They, like their father, were warlike and strong, yet unlike their father, and more like their mother, were impulsive and less upright.
Alas, when King Dyavan and his sons came to visit Tiendar and his household, he came bearing many gifts. As was his custom, Tiendar refused, and instead treated his mighty guest with many feasts and celebrations. At the time, the seven children of Venyai and Tiendar had been off to deal with a large infestation of weeds on the Northern Lakeside. A messenger was sent to tell them to return for the feasts.
On the fifth day of celebrations, they came, having dealt with the large bulk of weeds. Down they came, in their flying robes, and spent the day readying for the night’s merriment.
That night, they came to the feast, for King Dyavan and his sons were staying but for one more night. And on this day, the six brothers first met the Steward maidens of Tiendar. At first sight, the brothers found these sisters very beautiful, but they kept their thoughts secret, to each other and to their father. However, throughout the merry-making and celebrations, the six brothers’ eyes were ever on the daughters of Tiendar. Licoann, though, by chance saw their furtive glances and was troubled by that flash in their pupils, but he spoke of this not, for he decided such suspicions as folly.
The next day, Dyavan returned to his realm, with his sons and their retinues. Dyavan, upon their departure and return, noticed a cloud over his sons’ heads. He was wary for a while, but let it slide off over the weeks to come. In truth, the brothers had great desire for the maidens of Dinkaron, and time oft breeds greater desire for all manner things. Their desire ever grew greater, and in time they spoke among themselves about it. They had all considered asking their father to arrange a series of weddings between they and the Stewards, but pride stubbornly held them back.
Finally, Thelin, the eldest of Dyavan’s sons, suggested a plan that surely would allow them to arrange marriages of their desires. It was a crafty and conniving plan, but impulse and want overruled morality and uprightness.
“Let us then invite our father to a feast, and make him drunken with heavy wine. Upon this, we will persuade him to give us all a promise, and we will arrange our plans well. We will send the messages to the King Tiendar. When our father has awoken from his stupor, he will have no opposition to our plans, and will not realize his decisions the day before.”
Thruanin, the youngest, heard this proposal, and was unhappy. His love for his father was no greater than that of his brothers, but his standards were more upright, and he was reluctant to partaking in the plan. But his desire too overruled his conscience, and he remained silent.
The sons of Dyavan executed the plan. All went as was expected, and messengers were sent to Tiendar’s household, bearing proposals. The bearers of the messages were welcomed cordially by Tiendar, and their proposals were considered. Venyai and Tiendar called his family together from their duties and held a private council among them.
And that is where we stop for this post. To be continued. . .
Tyatoran History (again)
Friday, June 12, 2009
This is the Tyatoran belief of how the stars were formed. Came up with it some weeks ago. Haven't put it down to paper yet. Here it goes. . .
Before the world began, before the oldest of years, or the most ancient of times, or the longest of nights or days, there was Amentoris. He was never born nor made. He simply is. Mighty and great was He, stronger than all of this earth. Indeed, He was great. And upon this, he called forth the Concepts and the Masters.
By His call, the Concepts were made. He separated eternity into days and years and centuries, though He was not been bound by them. He called forth the light and the darkness, and they became what they were. He commanded the earth to be, and from its deepest pits He made water and air and fire. He looked upon his first phase of creation an was glad.
Then he made the Inhabitants, they who would live upon this land, He called Endramius. He formed all of them, one by one, then called them to life. He bended and shaped the trees and plants to beauty, and the beasts and birds and fish to that which was good, and sent them down to earth and populate it. Then he formed the Great Masters, the highest and most glorious of his making, creating them from the dust of mountains and hills, and plains. He made the first giants, and the first Firk-notts, and first two Humans. He created the first gnomes and first griffins of the mounts. Then made the first Rashoth, of which were all the great animals that could speak. Then He made the fays and stewards. He made them as spirits, the stewards to inhabit and watch over the lands and rivers and hills of His creation, and the fays to safeguard this world; for it was His great delight to see His created beings enjoy and keep that which He had made for them. He looked upon his new earth and indeed was glad.
Then, He made the sun and the moon, and the Guardians of the Sky. Beatiful He made the ornaments of the heavens, and he bestowed upon them the most wonderful of lights. The Guardians He made were like the stewards, but more powerful, for they had vast expanses to watch over. Then Amentoris the Great smiled, for much had been done.
It came to past that night came, and all of Amentoris's creation wondered at the glories of their Maker. That day, each race of Grand Master gave Him a name, to be held in Reverence for that race and fear. The Firk-notts called Him the Regi -Damarkhi, the greatest of Spirits. The Griphions called Him Kuchgaardin, True King. The Gnomes called Him Throigalin, Vast One.
Then Amentoris let them witness the final wonder of the creation. He came upon the sun and moon, and tore them into hundreds and thousands of pieces. The Grandmasters and fays and stewards were terrified at fist, unable to perceive its meaning, or its reason. Then Amentoris bellowed, in a voice deep and great, "Fragments of the old moon and old sun, disperse! Be the stars, and form among yourselves tales and shapes and constellations. This is the birth of the many lights!"
Then the fragments, though inanimate, obeyed, and sped to the places assigned them, far away from the world of Endramius.
Now, the creation of Amentoris wondered, for though at first they could not perceive, they saw the beauty of these new stars and were amazed.
Then Amentoris called forth once more, "Hearken! People of the first day! To remember theis day, and be glad, for I have made this land for thee. I promise my unending and incompassable love and passion for thee, as long as you accpet it and remain in my ways. Great will be the friendship between you and I, for many things I have in store for you! let the stars be witnesses to our covnenant here."
The people of Endramius heard and obeyed.
This is the tale of the Creation, the first day and evening in Endramius.
That is the story of he Great Making,
Before the world began, before the oldest of years, or the most ancient of times, or the longest of nights or days, there was Amentoris. He was never born nor made. He simply is. Mighty and great was He, stronger than all of this earth. Indeed, He was great. And upon this, he called forth the Concepts and the Masters.
By His call, the Concepts were made. He separated eternity into days and years and centuries, though He was not been bound by them. He called forth the light and the darkness, and they became what they were. He commanded the earth to be, and from its deepest pits He made water and air and fire. He looked upon his first phase of creation an was glad.
Then he made the Inhabitants, they who would live upon this land, He called Endramius. He formed all of them, one by one, then called them to life. He bended and shaped the trees and plants to beauty, and the beasts and birds and fish to that which was good, and sent them down to earth and populate it. Then he formed the Great Masters, the highest and most glorious of his making, creating them from the dust of mountains and hills, and plains. He made the first giants, and the first Firk-notts, and first two Humans. He created the first gnomes and first griffins of the mounts. Then made the first Rashoth, of which were all the great animals that could speak. Then He made the fays and stewards. He made them as spirits, the stewards to inhabit and watch over the lands and rivers and hills of His creation, and the fays to safeguard this world; for it was His great delight to see His created beings enjoy and keep that which He had made for them. He looked upon his new earth and indeed was glad.
Then, He made the sun and the moon, and the Guardians of the Sky. Beatiful He made the ornaments of the heavens, and he bestowed upon them the most wonderful of lights. The Guardians He made were like the stewards, but more powerful, for they had vast expanses to watch over. Then Amentoris the Great smiled, for much had been done.
It came to past that night came, and all of Amentoris's creation wondered at the glories of their Maker. That day, each race of Grand Master gave Him a name, to be held in Reverence for that race and fear. The Firk-notts called Him the Regi -Damarkhi, the greatest of Spirits. The Griphions called Him Kuchgaardin, True King. The Gnomes called Him Throigalin, Vast One.
Then Amentoris let them witness the final wonder of the creation. He came upon the sun and moon, and tore them into hundreds and thousands of pieces. The Grandmasters and fays and stewards were terrified at fist, unable to perceive its meaning, or its reason. Then Amentoris bellowed, in a voice deep and great, "Fragments of the old moon and old sun, disperse! Be the stars, and form among yourselves tales and shapes and constellations. This is the birth of the many lights!"
Then the fragments, though inanimate, obeyed, and sped to the places assigned them, far away from the world of Endramius.
Now, the creation of Amentoris wondered, for though at first they could not perceive, they saw the beauty of these new stars and were amazed.
Then Amentoris called forth once more, "Hearken! People of the first day! To remember theis day, and be glad, for I have made this land for thee. I promise my unending and incompassable love and passion for thee, as long as you accpet it and remain in my ways. Great will be the friendship between you and I, for many things I have in store for you! let the stars be witnesses to our covnenant here."
The people of Endramius heard and obeyed.
This is the tale of the Creation, the first day and evening in Endramius.
That is the story of he Great Making,
Heaviness
Tuesday, April 21, 2009
I remember things once heard before,
That once had been, but is no more.
They grasp the slipping past that glides upon the tide,
Time has carried the path that all men ride.
Fallen are the great towers, the castles of Old Kings,
Desolate the waste where the Songbirds pine and sing.
This is the destruction of Olciun, place of many days,
Land beyond the moon, once bathed in the merry sun rays.
All is woe, if only you had heeded,
And repented, that the blood-bathed earth so greatly needed,
Had you not turned from your ways of sin,
And turn to Elohim, Creator of the ground and the wind.
Repent, oh people of Olciun!
Hear the words of your prophets' scrolls and runes!
Don't make me pour the judgement that Justice demands!
Turn from your ways, wash the blood off your hands!
Flee from those desires that you know are neither justified nor right,
Do not hide in the darkness, come with Me to light!
I cannot call forever, one day, this weighing scale will fall one end,
This land can hold your sin no longer, and the iron rod will bend.
I do not want to pour out death, upon your once-good Olciun,
Turn and look to me, oh Land Beyond the Moon!
Come back, remember that you have fallen from a height!
Oh Olciun, Olciun, Come into the Light!
Let Me change your ways, you, both the simple and the wise,
Come to me, oh people, let Me open your eyes!
I hold much gifts I've longed to give that you will not except,
I knocked upon your gates, while your cities' fathers slept!
Come back, remember that you have fallen from a height!
Oh Olciun, Olciun, Come into the Light!
That once had been, but is no more.
They grasp the slipping past that glides upon the tide,
Time has carried the path that all men ride.
Fallen are the great towers, the castles of Old Kings,
Desolate the waste where the Songbirds pine and sing.
This is the destruction of Olciun, place of many days,
Land beyond the moon, once bathed in the merry sun rays.
All is woe, if only you had heeded,
And repented, that the blood-bathed earth so greatly needed,
Had you not turned from your ways of sin,
And turn to Elohim, Creator of the ground and the wind.
Repent, oh people of Olciun!
Hear the words of your prophets' scrolls and runes!
Don't make me pour the judgement that Justice demands!
Turn from your ways, wash the blood off your hands!
Flee from those desires that you know are neither justified nor right,
Do not hide in the darkness, come with Me to light!
I cannot call forever, one day, this weighing scale will fall one end,
This land can hold your sin no longer, and the iron rod will bend.
I do not want to pour out death, upon your once-good Olciun,
Turn and look to me, oh Land Beyond the Moon!
Come back, remember that you have fallen from a height!
Oh Olciun, Olciun, Come into the Light!
Let Me change your ways, you, both the simple and the wise,
Come to me, oh people, let Me open your eyes!
I hold much gifts I've longed to give that you will not except,
I knocked upon your gates, while your cities' fathers slept!
Come back, remember that you have fallen from a height!
Oh Olciun, Olciun, Come into the Light!
Thalagran; allegory
Saturday, April 11, 2009
Upon his mighty fortress,
In turret high and great,
stood Thalagran, King of Formadis,
Lord of Cotni, Emperor of Olmarait.
The greatest of all mortal humanity.
mighty beyond spears and swords.
With strength that few may comprehend,
With armies and heralds and hordes.
"Hear me!" called out Thalagran,
"See the lands, once theirs, now mine;
I crack the bows of beasts and men,
Hearken! Am I not divine?
"The Phoenixes subdued, beneath my might,
The horses of the Korasarh-men are mine,
I seize the inheritance of kings, and barons' rich birthrights!
Who wears the golden silk of the Makri, of quality so fine?
'Who drove the Firk-Notts from their lands?
Who broke the Jungle Tribes,
Who's army is as a beach's grains of sand?
Who made war that words cannot describe?
'I have built myself and empire,
With my hands, from nothing to all,
I, Lord of water and fire,
See all my foes now fall
'Am I not mighty?
Am I not terrible?
Am I not the unsightly,
Am I not horrible!
'I challenge thee, oh I challenge thee!
I shall reach for the skies,
The stars shall soon bow to me,
I reach for heavens high!"
Then Thalagran looke upwards,
And raised a iron fist,
Upon that time he heard,
A voice like lion in the mist.
"Hearken, oh King Thalagran of Formalis,
Lord you once were and once had been,
See, that this night your archers shoot and miss!
See the faces of your generals, to turn to pure chagrin.
'You cannot make the ground to shake,
Thou cannot make the moon to quake,
you cannot crack the mountians or the hills,
Thalagran cannot make winds blow at will!
'You cannot strike the starry hosts,
You cannot make the wheat to plant,
You haven't the realm you want the most,
you cannot make flowers grow at want!
'You cannot make to mute to talk,
You cannot make life of nought,
You annot make the lame to walk,
You cannot find the immortal life you sought!
'For who, Oh Thalagran, can do as such I said!
I have let you build this empire of might,
Your spears are of my iron, steel, and lead!
For this land I have given you a right!
And as it was given to thee,
Thalagran the proud, for now, do as you may,
But you will fall tonight, and all may see.
Hearken! I am Yahweh!"
Thalagran tossed his forehead high,
and waved his iron fist at the Voice,
He roared in voice heard far and nigh,
Then slipped to the safety of his castle.
That very night, in mauve, slow, evening,
His foes stormed his castle-grounds,
And heard that day from his foes, the sound of them singing,
"Thalagran is dead! See his lifeless body bound!"
And so the dominions of Thalagran,
crumbled into dust,
His legacy, rendered desolate by sand,
As all proud kingdoms must.
Now he and his kingdom is no more,
His lands where haughty buzzards now hide,
None can tell where his castle was before,
The results of his foolishness and pride.
Here I end my story,
of Thalagran, KIng of Formalis,
Lord of Cotni, Emperor of Olmarait.
In turret high and great,
stood Thalagran, King of Formadis,
Lord of Cotni, Emperor of Olmarait.
The greatest of all mortal humanity.
mighty beyond spears and swords.
With strength that few may comprehend,
With armies and heralds and hordes.
"Hear me!" called out Thalagran,
"See the lands, once theirs, now mine;
I crack the bows of beasts and men,
Hearken! Am I not divine?
"The Phoenixes subdued, beneath my might,
The horses of the Korasarh-men are mine,
I seize the inheritance of kings, and barons' rich birthrights!
Who wears the golden silk of the Makri, of quality so fine?
'Who drove the Firk-Notts from their lands?
Who broke the Jungle Tribes,
Who's army is as a beach's grains of sand?
Who made war that words cannot describe?
'I have built myself and empire,
With my hands, from nothing to all,
I, Lord of water and fire,
See all my foes now fall
'Am I not mighty?
Am I not terrible?
Am I not the unsightly,
Am I not horrible!
'I challenge thee, oh I challenge thee!
I shall reach for the skies,
The stars shall soon bow to me,
I reach for heavens high!"
Then Thalagran looke upwards,
And raised a iron fist,
Upon that time he heard,
A voice like lion in the mist.
"Hearken, oh King Thalagran of Formalis,
Lord you once were and once had been,
See, that this night your archers shoot and miss!
See the faces of your generals, to turn to pure chagrin.
'You cannot make the ground to shake,
Thou cannot make the moon to quake,
you cannot crack the mountians or the hills,
Thalagran cannot make winds blow at will!
'You cannot strike the starry hosts,
You cannot make the wheat to plant,
You haven't the realm you want the most,
you cannot make flowers grow at want!
'You cannot make to mute to talk,
You cannot make life of nought,
You annot make the lame to walk,
You cannot find the immortal life you sought!
'For who, Oh Thalagran, can do as such I said!
I have let you build this empire of might,
Your spears are of my iron, steel, and lead!
For this land I have given you a right!
And as it was given to thee,
Thalagran the proud, for now, do as you may,
But you will fall tonight, and all may see.
Hearken! I am Yahweh!"
Thalagran tossed his forehead high,
and waved his iron fist at the Voice,
He roared in voice heard far and nigh,
Then slipped to the safety of his castle.
That very night, in mauve, slow, evening,
His foes stormed his castle-grounds,
And heard that day from his foes, the sound of them singing,
"Thalagran is dead! See his lifeless body bound!"
And so the dominions of Thalagran,
crumbled into dust,
His legacy, rendered desolate by sand,
As all proud kingdoms must.
Now he and his kingdom is no more,
His lands where haughty buzzards now hide,
None can tell where his castle was before,
The results of his foolishness and pride.
Here I end my story,
of Thalagran, KIng of Formalis,
Lord of Cotni, Emperor of Olmarait.
Firk-Nott Volcabulary
Thursday, April 2, 2009
I think I'm going a bit too enthusiastic about Tyatora.
Maybe even crazy about it.
I've gotten so excited with the idea of fleshing out Tyatora and its world, this driving hobby of mine to get everything about this fantasy realm of mine organized, A to Z. Ideas of new peoples and cultures and places pop into my mind every now and then, but I'm gearing myself up for perhaps the toughest aspect of my fantasy world:
Language-making.
I don't think I'll feel truly satisfied wiith my work without several developed languages in my fantasy. It just has to be made.
I've been trying for the past month or so to develop languages for the world Tyatora. I'm not sure how to start, nor do I know exactly what I plan to do. I have absolutely no idea how to complete my self-imposed goal, but oh well. . .
There goes a stab in the dark.
So far, I've been trying to create some root words and suffixes for the Firk-Nott language of Tyatora. I've got roughly forty words down on paper, based on about twenty or so roots. The idea is to form the roots first, then combine these roots with other roots and suffixes. Most of the Firk-Nott nouns and pronouns will be made this way (the language I'm making will have a lot of compound words).
Pronouns, articles, and prepositions will be developed next (if I haven't given up altogether by then). From there, I'll come up somehow with the grammar.
This is all in theory, of course, and there probably will be a lot of kinks to iron out of my experimental language.
Here are a few of the words I've made, Firk-Nott words placed first, and the English equivalent placed next to it:
olkvo = considerate, polite, good
alin = people/person
dram =man/male being
nill = lady/female being
olkvo-dram =gentleman
olkvo-nill= polite lady
Frantar = Traveller
I'm out of time, Mom's calling me to see something.
I apologize, good Reader.
Until the next post,
Joshua of Tyatora.
Maybe even crazy about it.
I've gotten so excited with the idea of fleshing out Tyatora and its world, this driving hobby of mine to get everything about this fantasy realm of mine organized, A to Z. Ideas of new peoples and cultures and places pop into my mind every now and then, but I'm gearing myself up for perhaps the toughest aspect of my fantasy world:
Language-making.
I don't think I'll feel truly satisfied wiith my work without several developed languages in my fantasy. It just has to be made.
I've been trying for the past month or so to develop languages for the world Tyatora. I'm not sure how to start, nor do I know exactly what I plan to do. I have absolutely no idea how to complete my self-imposed goal, but oh well. . .
There goes a stab in the dark.
So far, I've been trying to create some root words and suffixes for the Firk-Nott language of Tyatora. I've got roughly forty words down on paper, based on about twenty or so roots. The idea is to form the roots first, then combine these roots with other roots and suffixes. Most of the Firk-Nott nouns and pronouns will be made this way (the language I'm making will have a lot of compound words).
Pronouns, articles, and prepositions will be developed next (if I haven't given up altogether by then). From there, I'll come up somehow with the grammar.
This is all in theory, of course, and there probably will be a lot of kinks to iron out of my experimental language.
Here are a few of the words I've made, Firk-Nott words placed first, and the English equivalent placed next to it:
olkvo = considerate, polite, good
alin = people/person
dram =man/male being
nill = lady/female being
olkvo-dram =gentleman
olkvo-nill= polite lady
Frantar = Traveller
I'm out of time, Mom's calling me to see something.
I apologize, good Reader.
Until the next post,
Joshua of Tyatora.
Pining Phoenix
Saturday, March 7, 2009
Haven't written such a long poem in a while.
In the grassy, green, slopes in realm afar,
East of Crinsehr, West of Tyatora,
North of the Coastline, south of the pits of tar,
Lies the land of the Phoenixes of Pierah.
The Phoenixes of Pierah,
Who came from distant land,
Growers of peach and aloe vera,
Far from Leprechauns and men.
A wondrous race of bird were they,
Those fire-birds of wingspan great,
Whose feather like red roses in May,
Whose beak like carven stone of agate.
And so these orioles of flame,
Came upon these open slopes,
Upon a land without a name,
A land of freedom and new hope.
They settled there,
And grew their aloe vera and peach,
they colonized their kingdom fair.
out of man's and giant's reach.
For a thousand years their people rule,
lived upon the hills and dales,
In the kingdom of mountain and pool.
There they were, scarlet wings, plumed tails.
Then the men of Korasarrh,
Came into this wondrous land,
They came to raid; to break; to mar,
With the power of the lances in their hands.
The phoenixes now rose, united as one,
and sharpened the blades their ancestors had born,
Rallied they, Flame-Birds of the Sun,
Who now wore the armor their forefathers had worn.
But alas, the phoenixes were broken,
Crushed by charging spear,
before the axes of the Korasarrh men,
And many, for their loved ones, shed tear.
The phoenixes left the Land Without Name,
dispersed to the distant corners of the earth,
Sad were they, to leave the Kingdom of the Phoenixes of Flame
The land of their heritage, the land of their birth.
Now, today, they hide by cover of night,
englow the fields with their burning fire,
They emit a sad, mournful form of light,
In the fiefdoms and shires.
Tonight, you might hear a sorrowed phoenix pining,
Weeping for the pain that throbs within her heart,
Perhaps see her feathers shining,
As she spreads her great wings apart.
Their song is heard now,
Loud and piercing,
One that saddens men, birds, and cows.
One that sends the ground to quivering.
Shaking mountain,
Halting wind,
breaking fountain,
roaring din.
And such is the pining of the Phoenixes,
wailing and sad.
In the grassy, green, slopes in realm afar,
East of Crinsehr, West of Tyatora,
North of the Coastline, south of the pits of tar,
Lies the land of the Phoenixes of Pierah.
The Phoenixes of Pierah,
Who came from distant land,
Growers of peach and aloe vera,
Far from Leprechauns and men.
A wondrous race of bird were they,
Those fire-birds of wingspan great,
Whose feather like red roses in May,
Whose beak like carven stone of agate.
And so these orioles of flame,
Came upon these open slopes,
Upon a land without a name,
A land of freedom and new hope.
They settled there,
And grew their aloe vera and peach,
they colonized their kingdom fair.
out of man's and giant's reach.
For a thousand years their people rule,
lived upon the hills and dales,
In the kingdom of mountain and pool.
There they were, scarlet wings, plumed tails.
Then the men of Korasarrh,
Came into this wondrous land,
They came to raid; to break; to mar,
With the power of the lances in their hands.
The phoenixes now rose, united as one,
and sharpened the blades their ancestors had born,
Rallied they, Flame-Birds of the Sun,
Who now wore the armor their forefathers had worn.
But alas, the phoenixes were broken,
Crushed by charging spear,
before the axes of the Korasarrh men,
And many, for their loved ones, shed tear.
The phoenixes left the Land Without Name,
dispersed to the distant corners of the earth,
Sad were they, to leave the Kingdom of the Phoenixes of Flame
The land of their heritage, the land of their birth.
Now, today, they hide by cover of night,
englow the fields with their burning fire,
They emit a sad, mournful form of light,
In the fiefdoms and shires.
Tonight, you might hear a sorrowed phoenix pining,
Weeping for the pain that throbs within her heart,
Perhaps see her feathers shining,
As she spreads her great wings apart.
Their song is heard now,
Loud and piercing,
One that saddens men, birds, and cows.
One that sends the ground to quivering.
Shaking mountain,
Halting wind,
breaking fountain,
roaring din.
And such is the pining of the Phoenixes,
wailing and sad.
Tyatora III
Sunday, March 1, 2009
Yay! I've developed and drafted the races of Tyatora.
Now I need a history (desparately). Hmm. . . This will take a while.
Tyatora is, err, 324 years old. It was created as a confederacy of the various races I mentioned, directly after the Colovician Wars*. The seven leaders of the seven races met at the town of Tillari, and forged a unique alliance, or the Treaty of Tyatroin.
The Treaty was created mainly as a military precaution, a joining of several weak states to form a stable economy and standing defense force in a battle-ravaged land. Tyatorans see this date as the foundng of a nation, a creation of a people. This date is the first year in the Tyatoran calendar.
All years upon this are described based on the number of years away they are from the year of the Treaty. For example, if you were to see the date, "246, N.T.," it means it is 246 years after the year of the treaty. As for the mysterious "NT", the initials stand for, in the Tyatoran tongue, Nigh-aget Tyatroin, or, in English, "Upon the Year of the Tyatroin Treaty."
I think that's all I'll do this post. I won't go into people, events, and places yet. I'm trying to make a framework with which I can use to create more tales and stories on. I hope to make individual records of how each ethnic species came to the land of Tyatora soon.
*The Colovician Wars were a series of wars that occured off and on over one hundred years before 1 NT. It was sparked off by the human earl named Colovici, who incited several wars to wipe out the other races of the continent. Immediately, good human barons, Firk-nott warrior-priests, and gnomes allied to destroy his army. He won the first war, but lost the other five wars he launched. He and most of his men were wiped out in the Battle of Ghimlass. However, his immediate posterity established great castles and forts of resistance, and it took many more years of fighting to destroy these mighty strongholds. By then, the entire continent was tired, exhausted of the raging wars that had gone on for more than one hundred years.
Now I need a history (desparately). Hmm. . . This will take a while.
Tyatora is, err, 324 years old. It was created as a confederacy of the various races I mentioned, directly after the Colovician Wars*. The seven leaders of the seven races met at the town of Tillari, and forged a unique alliance, or the Treaty of Tyatroin.
The Treaty was created mainly as a military precaution, a joining of several weak states to form a stable economy and standing defense force in a battle-ravaged land. Tyatorans see this date as the foundng of a nation, a creation of a people. This date is the first year in the Tyatoran calendar.
All years upon this are described based on the number of years away they are from the year of the Treaty. For example, if you were to see the date, "246, N.T.," it means it is 246 years after the year of the treaty. As for the mysterious "NT", the initials stand for, in the Tyatoran tongue, Nigh-aget Tyatroin, or, in English, "Upon the Year of the Tyatroin Treaty."
I think that's all I'll do this post. I won't go into people, events, and places yet. I'm trying to make a framework with which I can use to create more tales and stories on. I hope to make individual records of how each ethnic species came to the land of Tyatora soon.
*The Colovician Wars were a series of wars that occured off and on over one hundred years before 1 NT. It was sparked off by the human earl named Colovici, who incited several wars to wipe out the other races of the continent. Immediately, good human barons, Firk-nott warrior-priests, and gnomes allied to destroy his army. He won the first war, but lost the other five wars he launched. He and most of his men were wiped out in the Battle of Ghimlass. However, his immediate posterity established great castles and forts of resistance, and it took many more years of fighting to destroy these mighty strongholds. By then, the entire continent was tired, exhausted of the raging wars that had gone on for more than one hundred years.
Tyatora II
Tuesday, February 17, 2009
I think I'm in a Tyatora craze.
I can't stop thinking about it, and I spend a considerable amount of time thinking about it, inventing new ideas and history. Tyatora has fascinated me, and its charm has made (and probably always will continue making) a mark on my life. I use this not as an "escape" world, but as a mirror, to reflect my thoughts, my heartcries, and my desire to express my deep admiration and wonder of Yahweh; or as the Tyatorans call Him, "Amentoris". It is, in essence, me.
I did forget, however, that there are two additional races (besides the ones I spoke of last post on Tyatora).
1. Gryphions (Tyatoran spelling of Griffins)
2. Chinchillas. Don't worry, Gryphions don't eat Chinchillas.
The Gryphions are a mountain race. Fierce and independant, the live in the gold-rich mountains of Norhtern Tyatora. This region is ruled (and ferociously guarded) by the griffin tribes, and all but a few contract-based companies and government programs are allowed to mine their gold here. Previously, prospectors and greedy giants threatened to start a Tyatoran Gold-rush, but the Gryphions drove back the gold-getters at the Battle of Vatlinclov some 500 years ago.
They, surprisingly, are herbivorous, who are fond of eating Kimboli Ferns and noodles.
The Chinchillas, are also a mountain race, but live on the fertile hillsides of Western Tyatora. They are farmers by trade, and swordsmiths. A family of Chinchillas may take four days to make a Gryphion-sized sword, slaving over this one sword, hammering, thwacking, planning, enlaying etc. When they are done, they sell this to the government for fifty thousand Corcals (Tyatoran currency). That's a lot of money, by the way. Their swords are so reputable to be good the govt. just has to have them (more or less a national ego). Their fruits are pretty sweet too.
Mom's calling, I'm out of time. Sorry about that. Hope you don't mind, readers. Oh yeah, I'll try to do Part Four of the Polar bear story soon(those things are hard to chug out).
I can't stop thinking about it, and I spend a considerable amount of time thinking about it, inventing new ideas and history. Tyatora has fascinated me, and its charm has made (and probably always will continue making) a mark on my life. I use this not as an "escape" world, but as a mirror, to reflect my thoughts, my heartcries, and my desire to express my deep admiration and wonder of Yahweh; or as the Tyatorans call Him, "Amentoris". It is, in essence, me.
I did forget, however, that there are two additional races (besides the ones I spoke of last post on Tyatora).
1. Gryphions (Tyatoran spelling of Griffins)
2. Chinchillas. Don't worry, Gryphions don't eat Chinchillas.
The Gryphions are a mountain race. Fierce and independant, the live in the gold-rich mountains of Norhtern Tyatora. This region is ruled (and ferociously guarded) by the griffin tribes, and all but a few contract-based companies and government programs are allowed to mine their gold here. Previously, prospectors and greedy giants threatened to start a Tyatoran Gold-rush, but the Gryphions drove back the gold-getters at the Battle of Vatlinclov some 500 years ago.
They, surprisingly, are herbivorous, who are fond of eating Kimboli Ferns and noodles.
The Chinchillas, are also a mountain race, but live on the fertile hillsides of Western Tyatora. They are farmers by trade, and swordsmiths. A family of Chinchillas may take four days to make a Gryphion-sized sword, slaving over this one sword, hammering, thwacking, planning, enlaying etc. When they are done, they sell this to the government for fifty thousand Corcals (Tyatoran currency). That's a lot of money, by the way. Their swords are so reputable to be good the govt. just has to have them (more or less a national ego). Their fruits are pretty sweet too.
Mom's calling, I'm out of time. Sorry about that. Hope you don't mind, readers. Oh yeah, I'll try to do Part Four of the Polar bear story soon(those things are hard to chug out).
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