You're not crazy I saw THAT TOO!!!
...
Thank you for taking the time to visit; enjoy the posts...
THE FIRST CANDLE EVE MEETING
He had ventured far from
the place he once
called home
as travels found him more than lost
again from woods he
had emerged.
Near the clearing by river’s ford
on a moonlit night
he spied
A bathing fair maiden glistening
neath the starlight’s night.
He should have turned away
or made himself
known but
gazed all the more his longing grew
for she sang aloud
as if
just for him of some woodland elf.
Arched back with firmness high
the maiden’s form
and voice
were both a spell of enchantment
as Fayendar feasted
eyes wide
Enava he whispered her name to be
till morning love
she became his.
Fayendar embraced Enava his wife
she who gifted him
a daughter
Elbrekah – ‘Child of Elven Love’
so named as though
she would never
know him upon the approach of war.
He love both mother and child
dearly and eighteen years she passed
till the war could no longer be ignored
or brother his broken oath mended.
From Uruk’s harsh rocky plains
through the gorge of Mount Jebul’s range
he did cross over the troll’s stone bridge
of the Blue River’s rapids into the
dark forest of Norwood’s twisted roots
as southward he turned and ventured
for the island of Eul and Ra`More
The Last Stronghold of his forgotten kin.
KASHON// Lethos
Kashon
[The
shouting, naked Prophet]
.........................................................
In the fifty seventh year of King Legandriel’s reign
there was one who arose clambering against his lordship, a Kashon by name. He followed the claims of the farmer
Shay. Kashon was the first prophet to
arise in the Land of Eriduah. His first
three followers were: Dopot, Arune, and Lethos.
I, Arune have begun this book of the happenings of Kashon, because of
the amazing things he said and did all of which I saw firsthand.
I followed the
desert-Wildman, as some called him, because his words were like no other I had
heard before. Dopot was with him since
his boyhood days in the city of Uruk. I
came from Sinjar of the community near Sinjar hill, beside Orid’s oasis. But, it was Lethos and his many questions
that spurred on the fiery spirit of Kashon to burn even brighter causing our
numbers to grow.
In between knowing and
not was the Seeker. A tent maker named Lethos ventured south one day in
hopes of finding better trade. Stopping at the Oasis of Orid, between his
city of Lindol and that of Mithar, Lethos met a stranger.
He called to the stranger, "By all the gods and
temples man, why are you sitting there with no clothes to wear?"
The naked man answered, "The Vala were the
created sons and daughters, not gods themselves!" Standing up and
showing his full height, the naked man's unkept beard covered his shoulders,
chest and stomach. He shouted, "There is only one God and Lindol has
forsaken Him! Illuva is that one and always! Why, on the other
hand are you naked to that fact? All those crafted temples, made up of
stone chambers, each holding its own deluded distraction like some hidden relic.
They are all lies pulling you away from The One! Rather, dress
yourself in the simplistic knowledge that no one can strip away your inner
peace nor layer up joy like moth eaten robes. Take hope that God shall
send one who knows your very thoughts and is still willing to love you."
Lethos was astonished by such candor. He
neglected his journey for a better trade and stayed there stripping off his
clothes and freeing his stead as well. Two others were there with him and
at the end of the month they had become twenty. They wore no clothes,
sharing only the meat of wild boars killed in the night. From their skins
Lethos made tents. They ate figs, dates and drank camel's milk as they
shared what the Seeker began.
One day the seeker marked each of them with a blue
stripe down their foreheads and nose; this he did recalling the Spike of Shay.
He shouted over their heads, "Illuva has marked us as different, not
because we are special but because others have chosen to be distracted.
They are chasing after a growing world eager to destroy it self.
They kill with words and swords, all those unwilling to bow; take heed to
only love God and care for the poor."
Then a follower asked, "Master, when shall we care for
the poor, if we are here with you?"
The seeker grew solemn, sat down, and whispered
softly, as if to himself alone, "Only one shall do so, and singing all his
days to become greater than me. The others shall willingly birth the Baobab
tree of Enosh with their blood. Hear this truth; even now crows fly to
the tower calling our fancy doom."
The next day three richly
clad figures rode up to the Oasis of Orid on horseback. The envoy was most certainly from the Tower
of Mithar and these three her boldest priest.
Without dismounting one said, “I am Cleso of the fifth House of
Varlendur, and this Jesuth, and Saleno, Keeper of the Watcher’s Urn. Pray tell we are looking for one called the Seeker
of Orid.”
Standing up and then walking
backward to the three behind him, the bearded naked man shouted out, “It would
do you well to pray.” Standing behind
their horses, causing the riders to turn about in their saddles, he added,
“What crow flew your way to warn of such a prophet?”
The second priest, Jesuth
asked, “Are you a prophet?”
Spilling camel’s milk
over his beard that covered his shoulders and down to his stomach, the ruddy
skinned man bellowed, “I am Kashon of Orid yelling to the deaf. I am the first of many who shall surely
come. With each who follow me, louder
voices shall you hear! Seven shall arise causing your ears to burn red with
wrath.”
At that the third priest,
Saleno inquired with spite, “What words spoken by the likes of you would ever
cause our Brotherhood’s attention or merit the King’s retribution?”
Kashon answered with a
laugh, “My words have already called you, and here you are. You have just spoken what shall come to pass
from your own mouth. Crows, your third
flight here shall surely water the Baobab tree of Enosh, and cause its growth.”
With that the twenty,
blue faced followers silently stood in one accord, without a given word to do
so. Smiling, Kashon added, “Each one who
follows me shall have an even deeper word to share than mine. Their cry shall be heard both in the Halls of
Mount Ipstha and at the fall of your Tower!”
“We have heard enough of
this simpleton’s tripe.” Saleno said, as
the others also turned their horses to leave.
At that Kashon yelled
out, “YOU shall walk all the way!” In that
very moment the three horses collapsed dead beneath their struggling
riders. Kashon said, “Such are the likes
of those who struggle beneath the spiritual burdens, and taxes you place on
them. Your followers are likewise
crushed to death; by your smiling misdirection’s of false expectation, and
outright lies. Be gone, your fancy robes
and rings have no power here!”
With that they freed
themselves and began walking toward Salvath and Mithar. A year went by before
any bold priests were seen again.
Lethos sat upon the
ground, hands over his face and singing the word of Kashon. As he rocked back and forth, the others
simply stood with faces and arms raised skyward. They were answering the tune of Lethos with
praise to Illuva above.
Silently facing them all
from the other bank of the oasis, Kashon groomed his massive beard, and then
for the first time that Lethos had known him, the prophet dawned a white
hooded-robe. Hearing the approach of
horses from behind, Kashon shouted as the others continued, “TODAY is the Baobab
tree planted. Now come those who would water
it.”
From the first time since
he knew him, Lethos saw his dressed master walking forward to meet the Temple
guards from Mithar. The only one not
dismounted of those twelve was the Elder-Lord High Priest Saleno
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
I am Blamon the second
follower of the blind-singing Prophet Lethos.
He gave me the scroll first penned by Arune, and I have completed,
adding to it from the personal account of Lethos himself. Lethos had great foresight in spirit but it
failed him on the physical plane.
………………………..
CEIRMAUL (The Lifted Orc)
CEIRMAUL
(The Lifted Orc)
At the port of Kathos, south of Lindol three
ships departed and one had just arrived.
It came from Jebul in the east, laden with goods. Those on shore were unloading its cargo of
dwarven beer and spiced ale, and crates of fine dining silver-ware. Everyone looked up, and turned about at the
stranger. It was a cloaked newcomer from
Mithar who surprised everyone with his odd question.
The Captain, a man named Garbel said, “Come
again, what was that?”
The young man drew back his hood revealing
his pale face. By his very complexion,
and speech he was known as a Fair One of an ancient race. He said, “Again sir, I desire passage unto
the Undying Lands of the greater west.”
Captain Garbel frowned, “I thought I heard
those words come out. This ship nor any
other I am aware of; not even for all the dwarven gold would venture
there. To go beyond the rim of the world
is madness.”
“Is there a shipwright who could craft a
design?” The elf asked.
“Son,” The sea mariner inquired, “What is
your name?”
“Ceirmaul of Mordor,” came his cold answer.
“Ceirmaul of Mordor,” came his cold answer.
After a long silence of disbelief, the
Captain continued, “Ceirmaul – Why are you so bent to meet your end at sea? There is nothing out there beyond the
supplies of the greatest vessel I know.
Well, since I was but boy myself, there were told of seven such ships
that never made landfall in trying. Nor
any that that lighthouse of Mithar brought back with such yarn to spin either.”
The youthful looking stranger began speaking
as a gathering of listeners grew about him and the sea captain. Ceirmaul said, “I was beyond measure. Even among my own people I was considered
less than them and different than most.
I have always yearned to see the sea and its greater west a burning
desire of my heart. My brethren beat
those longings out of me as a youngling and those over me scorned me all the
more as an adult for such beliefs I never spoke of. I learned to let such hopes die.
“Through many years, the Great War, and
dungeons chains; time passed me by. Upon
my release I heard news of a miracle worker in the west. Suddenly that old hope sprang up in me
again. It gave my weary feet the courage
to press forward over the plains, over the Misty Mountains, through Norwood and
to the very Grey city itself.
“Only seven days ago, after two hundred and
seventeen years was my curse finally lifted.
So it is that I repay my healing in fulfilling my oath to venture to
those lands beyond the western rim.”
The Captain’s first mate injected, “Who was
the miracle-worker?”
Another ship mate, “What curse?”
A dock hand called out, “You swore an oath?”
Smilingly Ceirmaul answered them all, “The
Prophet Nadan of Mithar it was who gained my eternal servitude in showing
forgiveness upon me. For, who you see
before you is not what I have always been as I was changed from and made new
again! The God of Heaven saved me. By the mere faith of Nadan’s words the old
creature was cast aside and His light shines in me. Marvel not nor laugh but I was indeed once an
Orc of Mordor, born and bred for the lust of blood and evil war.”
Many disbelieved his story, but many were
touched by his telling of it. Some asked
a multitude of questions about Mordor, the eastern lands, the Prophet, of elves
and –
Suddenly, without warning the first mate, Bailman
by name cried out, “My grandfather was murdered by the likes of you, Orc!” Then, faster than any could counter he slew
the elf, cutting his throat open before all the people there. Many pulled him back from his continued
attacks, but Ceirmaul’s death came soon thereafter.
Bailman was not alone in his ill feelings,
and none did more that admonish with the removal of his blade. None sought out the Dungeon of Varlendur for
his crime, for many more than who did, thought justice had been fittingly
served.
Three weeks later news came to the port city
of Kathos that the so called prophet, Nadan was slain at the Oasis of
Orid. Many of the people rejoiced;
believing the Mitharian priest had rightly named him a dreamer of lies and ill
conjurer.
Inward Tears
The Lifted Orc
(The Tale of Ceirmaul)
Teaching in the
Market of Mithar’s Gate one day an Orc came to the city and called to Nadan,
“Heal me lord!”
But Nadan, the son
of Galadir gave no answer to the deformed creature, whom even the crowds abated
from. None the less it persisted in
following the prophet and his seven followers calling out, “True son of heaven
take pity.”
At this the
bewildered crowd hushed, pondering Nadan’s response. Again the beast called, going to bent knees,
“Lord, does not one even the likes of me need such salvation as you offer these
others?” The beast carried the foul odor
of a rotting carcass, and its reputation as a fierce warrior to death caused
the people to fear it. But this orc was
alone without troop or weapon.
Nadan turned about
and spoke, “For piety’s sake you beg or to do yourself honor?”
“Nay Lord of lords,”
Came the orc’s broken voice through tears.”
A sword was drawn against it by one of Nadan’s followers, but the
prophet stayed his hand with his own.
Again the creature cried out, still on bent knees in the public market,
“Sire, it is known who you are to those who see you as you are. These others here are yet still blind,
Master. Not for my honor, as I even
forsook my cause in seeking you, to purge this flesh so condemned. I chose not this path, nor the one beaten
into my brethren’s war. Would that I
were like unto those first intended ones, for such is the reason I sought you out
these many years, for hope’s chance of our meeting. Show your glory sire; if only you would choose
to turn me back, before the curse of my kind.”
Nadan inquired, “If
I so chose to lift that which brought you before me, then let it be lifted from
them all of such faith here. But of you;
what goals thereafter would you venture upon?”
A joy came upon the
black creature’s voice that none in the crowd would have imagined, “Gracious
lord, ever would your precious name be lofty in praise before even the Vala of
the Undying Lands as would be my sole journey to achieve, Master.”
Nadan replied, “Then
be about your will and purpose as you have so professed before these here. That the lord of heaven be glorified in his
manifestation among these children, to believe one such as you. Behold, like this once vile creature made
whole; such can be made of your lives as well by mere faith.”
Even as Nadan spoke
these words something like flakes of caked on mud began falling away from the
arms and face of the kneeling creature.
The crowds marveled with great astonishment at its transformation before
their very eyes as even the stench of the malformed beast crumbled away. Moments later, instead of a snarling burnt
looking monster, the beautiful figure of a pale young elven prince stood before them in
tattered clothing. A young woman from
her clothing booth freely offered him garments, as others began giving him some
of their wares and food. He pushed his
way through that gathering; came and fell at Nadan’s feet, crying with
gratitude and praise.
But Nadan commanded
him, “Go. Do as you have spoken, for
soon only the son shall remain.” The young elven prince left the city without
the gifts offered him, save the joy of having been restored by the prophet
Nadan.
...
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
