Soon, they weren't refugees anymore but valued members of our community, helping mend and repair with their hands and stone and wood, instead of with spells and mana. And those humans were all skilled with their hands, not being used to having magic at their disposal for every single task. Those human gods were real, and their magic was functioning. We were all dumbstruck, magic was returning… And yet, our few remaining arcanists confirmed, explaining that he was only a vessel channeling the mana offered by the gods so that his flock could survive. At that, Egil Karst, the cleric of Arun, gave a little smile and, out of nothing, conjured up a feast for his followers. This first winter had been more than dire, but somehow, the steep walls of our valley had shielded us, and we had room left to shelter those people, provided they could forage for their own food. And what a sorry bunch they were: some elderly, children, women, not many fighting men among them, and they were following an old man, Egil Karst, decked in clothes the color of fire. Eldoril was able to tell me they were not, as I had thought, enemies, but rather refugees turned allies of the Empire. One year after the Cataclysm, I met my first humans. (…) fellow elves, he let them go, with a heavy heart. If only it had been that simple… The young Airgetine wizard thought himself the equal of a master in wit, if not in power, and managed to convince his personal guard to follow him on a trek towards the imperial heartlands, away from the taint of this travesty of discussion with thralls. On the other hand, some of his patrols had brought back the corpses of very dangerous-looking monsters, and his men had the equipment, discipline, and training needed to face such fearsome foes. ![]() In the middle of the destruction wreaked by this Cataclysm, Eldoril made me realize that our fates were intertwined: without magic, without the empire behind him, there was no way he would be able to compel us to behave like good little imperial thralls. Like every thrall, I was planning a rebellion against the imperial order. On this direst of days, the sky broke, lightning fell again and again, and – worst of all – magic failed! I remember quite vividly the ashen face of our resident wizard, a young scion of a minor branch of House Airgetine, as he told Eldoril Sharp-Blade, the officer left in charge of the Vale, that mana had disappeared and that he wasn't even able to light a candle with his magic.Įldoril Sharp-Blade, was a no-nonsense elven veteran who quickly realized that none of his contingency orders covered such an occurrence. We had heard rumors, and then most of the elven troops garrisoned in our Valley left through the Gates to meet a dire threat, yet with enough left behind to ensure that imperial law still reigned supreme! It has no other function and can be sold or discarded after reading.Įxcerpt from “The Vale of Remembrance to the Vale of Dreams”.Įxcerpt from "The Vale of Remembrance to the Vale of Dreams"īy Kram Steelspine, Ceannard of the mines. It provides additional insight and information on characters and events, contributes to world-building.
0 Comments
Leave a Reply. |