Book 1

Tales from the Chronicles of Andaria 

The Adventures of Brandar Odaron 

Book 1     The Hidden Continent 

Copyright 2020 by Harrison Kurt Richter.  All rights reserved. 

Contents 

Forword
Chapter 1: Brandar’s Youth
Chapter 2: Brandar’s Desire
Chapter 3: Of News From The East
Chapter 4: Of The Emissaries
Chapter 5: Through The Ranks
Chapter 6: Crossing The River
Chapter 7: Reaching The Mountains
Chapter 8: Of Bereth And The Eastlands
Chapter 9: Across The Wide Yerhiesc
Chapter 10: The Mists Of Time
Chapter 11: Arriving Upon Arzultaur
Chapter 12: The Sereghran
Chapter 13: A New Purpose
Chapter 14: The Secret Warlord
Chapter 15: Through The Jungle Lands
Chapter 16: Farus Meets Flaven
Chapter 17: The Fall Of Vastus
Chapter 18: Healing The Wounds
Chapter 19: A Meeting In The Grass
Chapter 20: The Battle Of Geranost
Chapter 21: The Invasion In The South
Chapter 22: Jesan’s Plight
Chapter 23: The Warlord At War
Chapter 24: The Seven Reunite
Chapter 25: Brandar Takes The Forest
Chapter 26: The First New-Frontier War
Chapter 27: Other New-Frontier Wars
Chapter 28: The Fall Of Agereis
Chapter 29: The Arrival Of Aetas
Chapter 30: The Battle Of Deunomis
Chapter 31: Mustering For The Crusade
Chapter 32: Strabos Comes To The Castle
Chapter 33: Brandar Finds The Statues
Chapter 34: The Fall Of Demon Modeus
Chapter 35: Prosperity
Afterword
Appendix A: The Northron Emissaries
Appendix B: The Magic Seven
Appendix C: The Wizard’s Gifts
Glossary

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The Adventures of Brandar Odaron

Book 1:  The Hidden Continent

Foreword     The History of the Northrons

I, Maneldor of Romin, Wizard of Esaereh, penned this tome, and attest to the truth of it, for I have dwelt in Andaria from its founding, and witnessed events written of herein which occurred in Andaria, even the arrival of the Northrons of Rillguman during the First Invasion, and have also relied upon copies of Sereghran Lore which Brandar carried with him upon his return from Arzultaur, and the testimony of Brandar himself.

The First Fathers of Men woke in Weyilendeh nigh to the end of the Dwarven Age.  But no Fairy nor Elf nor Dwarf in those days kenned how many these were, for Men had grown numerous ere being discovered, and those Fathers, by then very aged, knew only of their own offspring and of their own homelands and but little even of other Men, and remembered only that they and the Mothers, their mates, had wakened full-grown, and had to hand about them all they required to survive.  So, those Fathers of Men become great leaders of their clans, and built houses of wood, and established settlements upon lands long abandoned by the Elves and by the Dwarves, of whom Men knew nothing until by chance explorers among Men went forth to venture upon lands beyond their own.  Yet, where Men in Weyilendeh first wakened may be gleaned by the spreading of their kind in various places.

First, they appeared in the farthest Southlands, hard along the edges of the Frozen Ranges, where the continent is most narrow.  Then in adjacent lands east to west, from the Eastern Coast to the Western Coast; though the first of all Men did not take to sailing the oceans, but rather fished from the shores, or in the rivers and streams, and in the many lakes common to those parts.  But it is from the Western Coasts that certain Men in later days took to sailing, in the Great Western Sea, and made settlements farther north, where is Kaivar, a country which was to become a wholly evil kingdom.

Next is my own homeland, which of old was named Nieosc, but later came to be called Andaria, in honor of the mighty patriarch Andar the Great, sixth in descent from one of the very Fathers of Men who woke upon the westward bank of Wordlyn Stream. This fruitful land is midmost but also in the north of Weyilendeh, and holds, here and there, many crumbling ruins of ancient cities, and mysterious monuments and fallen statues, which long puzzled the Men of Nieosc until the time when Elves from the Eastlands came to speak with them, and explained that Nieosc had once been inhabited by Elves who had fallen in ancient wars, or who had removed themselves from Weyilendeh an Age apast.

Men also woke on the broad island of Ghevelieze, not too far out in the Wide Yerhiesc, the Great Eastern Ocean, off of the Eastern Coast of Weyilendeh.  And because it is so close to the continent, it is counted as resting in the Waters of the coastal lands named Eastwold, which regions have been, since the waking of the Eld themselves, owned by Elven Kind.  But these Men were among the first to be discovered by Elven Mariners, and who taught them the craft of building ships, and the knowledge of sailing upon the untamed ocean.

Finally, there is a vast expanse of grassland named Ebhezieh, far to the north of Eastwold, nigh upon the barren southern foothills of the ever frozen Ice Mountains.   That great range spans many leagues, from the cold coast northeast to the headwaters of the river Ebre.  But Ebhezieh is only the region between the coast and the stretch of grassland at the northernmost end of the Anaurian Mountains.  It was in those lands, Ebhezieh, in which the first of the Fathers of the Northrons woke to life.

Long did the Northrons dwell in Ebhezieh, hunting beasts that roamed in vast herds over the tundra and upon the grasslands; mastodon and bison, moose and elk, dear and antelope.  And it was good.  And whence the Ice Mountain Dwarves and Eastwold Elves sent emissaries to them, the Northrons had friendship with them, and grew prosperous trading meat to the Dwarves, in exchange for weapons, and furs to both Dwarf and Elf for tools and other goods.  And later the Anaurian Dwawrves likewise befriended the Northrons, and therefore traded with them, and for many years there was peace between all of those folk.

The good Northrons grew strong and more numerous for many generations.  But there came a time when Cold Drakes appeared from the north and began feasting upon the beasts of the tundra, slaying the herds or driving them away.  Then the Drakes assailed the Northrons and the Dwarves of the Ice Mountains, and there was naught that could be done to stop them, for they were many and fierce.  Also, Men and Dwarves in those days had little or no knowledge of magic that could be used against the Drakes.  And ere the Elves could come to their aid, all the herds had been devoured or had fled far westwards.  

So it was that the Northrons knew hardship, and were forced to beg of the Dwarves and Elves for food.  And this wore right sorely upon the proud Northrons’ hearts.  Therefore, after a time it was declared by the Northron Chieftains that the people must remove themselves and go west in search of happier hunting grounds.  And that was done with whatever supplies and what horses the Dwarves and the Elves would give.

Hence, the Northron Tribes, three in number, with many souls, made the long march across the plains, passed through the hills above the Anaurian Mountains, and arrived at length in the north of my fair country Andaria.  And there they greatly slowed their pace, for they were weary and sorrowful.

Near to Lake Viehon the refugees made an encampment, in the grasslands stretching from its western shore.  And there did they fish and hunt, and would have remained but were a burden upon the Andarians already living thereabouts, having come unbidden, very numerous, and were taking fish and game upon which the Andarians had need.  So, the King of Andaria, with my counsel, commanded that the Northrons must continue their trek and go soon through the Westward Pass which lay north of the StoneCap Mountains, beyond which lay more good grasslands, but which gradually became a lightly wooded region as one continues west and then south from there, into the northern parts of the Aushoa Forest, the realm of a very great but good Golden Dragon whose name is Krakol.  “Upon those lands thou Northrons may dwell in peace,” said the King, “but if thou wouldst go further, through the woodlands west, at length wilt thou discover Rillguman, the Land of Three Rivers, known to be free of Men, but overrun with game, and where the rivers are filled with fish.”  And those rivers came together to form the mighty Ebre, a rushing torrent into which flowed many another stream, with surrounding lands providing  much provender.  Yet, the King said not that Durwolc likewise roamed there.

Then the Northrons set out for Rillguman led by their patriarchs, Dunjil, Bankar, and Forcha.  But they tarried for a season in the grasslands above Aushoa, thinking at first that here was a fine country.  But it had not enough sources of water for such a great throng.  So then they pressed on, finding sweet water in streams flowing down from mountains north, and also more such streams the farther west they moved into the woodlands.  And in this way they traveled slowly through the woods, with Chief Dunjil at the fore, leading the largest of the tribes, then Chief Bankar, with the next largest, but Chief Forcha last of all, leading proudly the least numerous people.

The three Northron Tribes had no formal names for their folk in those days, other than the names of their clans, based upon the names of their forebears or leaders.  Dunjil, son of Donjor, was Chief of the largest tribe, whose people were blonde-haired, fair of skin, very tall, strong of limb, and the mightiest in hunting and in fighting skills.  And when a member of that tribe spoke of the whole, they often said that they were the People of Dunjil.  Yet, by tradition, Dunjil was called High Chieftain of all Northrons.  And Bankar, son of Bathar, Chief of the second largest tribe, was next in authority to Dunjil.  He and his people had red hair, freckled skin, and thin builds, but were only slightly less tall than the Dunjilar.  Then there was Forcha, son of Fondel, whose people were brown-haired, somewhat less tall than the People of Bankar, but more stout.  Yet, all the Northron folk were valiant and hardy warriors by nature.

Now, when the Northrons had come but halfway through the woods, having taken many weeks to reach that place, the Golden Dragon Krakol came to them and would have words with them.  First he spoke with Dunjil, who revealed to where the Northrons were going, and for what reason.  But then Bankar and Forcha were brought before the Dragon, who said to all three leaders:  “Through these woods you may go to Rillguman, and there find a place to dwell, for the Dwarves of the Mountains have long let it go fallow, and do not tread there these days.  Yet, it is their land, and I shall send word for them to meet with you, and you can best deal with them without my counsel.  And you may hunt in my forest to one day of riding upon a horse, but no farther, for the deep Forest is my own hunting ground, and I shall not share it with Men.  Else-wise, you may go as you will, but I warn that beyond Rillguman, to the west, is the land Kaivar, in which Men have arisen who are dire and evil.  Do not go far west, or south, for those people will not be your friends, but will smite you, and rob you.  That is their way.  And you will find that Rillguman is rife with Durwolc, monsters spawned in days of old who will slay you as soon as seeing you, should any of you be found alone or few in number.  Go then, with my blessing.  But heed of my words”.

As the Northrons had not beforehand known of Durwolc, they asked of Krakol what kind of creatures they were, but Krakol said only that the Men would see them soon enough, and to beware of them.  Then each of the Chieftains swore to Krakol, promising to obey him in all ways, and to heed his warnings, and to wholly rid Rillguman of all Durwolc.  And with that, Krakol lept up and flew south and out of sight above his forest, taking the oaths of the Northron Chieftains for what they were worth to him, having learned something of the ways of Men from the deeds of the Kaivarians.  But he kenned no deception nor wickedness in the hearts of the Northrons, and therefore felt that he should leave them be, and wait to discover what may become of them.

Thereupon, the Northrons sent scouts to spy out the lands.  And the first to return said:  “Monsters there are of a kind I have never seen.  Somewhat like Dwarves but with little or no hair, hunched over they are, clawed of hand and foot, fanged and crooked of teeth, and altogether horrid to look upon.  And they are armed with spears and bows, and thin curved swords.”  So, of course, he had seen a kind of Durwolc called Gobbarin.  And other scouts returned with like tales.  But one who had gone south spoke of much larger creatures, similar in form, but twice as tall as Men, and fearsome to behold.  These were Trollo, though Northrons knew not what to name them at that time.  So then did Dunjil declare that all mounted Warriors of all three tribes must ride in front, leading the people, with Warriors afoot guarding the flanks and rear.  And in this way the Northrons moved forward, hoping not to fight.  But lo, the Durwolc fled as soon as becoming aware of the approach of the Northrons, in fear of such a great throng of Men, so grim and well-armed, with themselves and even their horses covered in mail.

That is how the Northrons came to Rillguman, the Land of Three Rivers, and found it pleasing and plentiful, and perfect for their needs.  Dunjil led his people to the river farthest west, and who set their settlements along its eastern bank.  Bankar thus arrayed his folk along the eastern bank of the midmost river, while Forcha set his along the eastern bank of the eastern river.  And thus did those lands, and each river, and each of the three tribes became known by those Chieftain’s names.  The Dunjilar dwelt between the River Dunjil and the River Bankar, the Bankari dwelt between the River Bankar and the River Forcha, and the Forchakar dwelt in the regions east, from the River Forcha to a day’s ride within the Forest of Aushoa.  And due to the sizes of those tribes, Durwolc that had been living in those parts moved away; scurrying west or south, so that the Northrons found that they must contend only with the beasts that dwelt in the region, though that was an effort at which they were already quite skilled. 

One day a small company of Dwarves came to them from the high mountains in the north and had words with the three Chiefs.  Then the leader of the Dwarves, a Lord of high station, declared that the Northrons had leave to dwell upon Rillguman with only two demands laid upon them.  First, they must rid all the lands thereabouts, and to the foothills north, of all the foul Durwolc, and all of the most dangerous beasts.  And they must also swear to come to the aid of the Dwarves should these send messengers to that end; for the Dwarves had strife with Durwolc northwest, and were troubled by Cold Drakes in the mountains.  Thus would they be happy if the Northrons could defend the foothills nigh to the southern slopes of the mountains.  And to this the Chieftains swore solemnly, and it was done; the Northrons soon slaying or driving away all Durwolc in the lands as far as three day’s ride west, and cleared all of the foothills north to the very feet of the mountains.  Then did they have peace for many a generation.  And the Dwarves were pleased.

Long did the Northrons dwell in Rillguman, engaging in trade and prospering.  The Dunjularians hunted in the Western Wood, and kept companies of mounted Warriors patrolling north and south along the borders of Rillguman, to keep Durwolc from engaging in raids from the west and the south.  And the Dunjilar people traded in dried meats, and in furs and leather goods.  But the Bankari became herdsmen, raising cattle and sheep, and also caught a great deal of fish in both rivers which bordered their land, while the Forchakar became ranchers, raising horses upon the grasslands east.  And many of them also became carpenters of great skill; obtaining lumber from the Forest.  But in time, each of the tribes began sending young Smiths to apprentice with the Dwarves in the Ice Mountains, which I myself had done in my youth.  And after a few generations, the skills of the Smiths of Rillguman at making weapons and armor were the match of any of those of any other Men in Weyilendeh, even my own.  And that later stood them in good stead; saving many of their people from the clutches of death.

It happens that a span of three years had passed when no more Durwolc were to be seen in the woods west or south.  This was in the days of the Dunjilar Chieftain Uldor, whose only son, Odar, was hailed in the yearly Games of the Northrons as the mightiest Warrior in all of Rillguman.  Then the people began to believe that the Durwolc had been defeated, or had moved far away and would never return.  So, the Northrons took to settling along the western bank of the River Dunjil.  And in another three years with no more encounters with Durwolc, Uldor allowed them to extend the borders of Rillguman into the forest west and into the woods much farther south, even upon both banks of the upper reaches of the River Ebre.  And then too, in another three years, as peace remained, and the Northrons prospered with no end in sight, the guarding of the borders grew lax.

Woe was wrought from that lack of foresight.  And Uldor paid  for it with his life, and that of all who dwelt west of the River Ebre and the River Dunjil.  For, of a sudden, vast armies of the Durwolc surged swiftly from the woodlands west and south, and assailed the Dunjilarians with much slaughter and destruction.  Then also came Gobba from hills to the north, descending upon Dunjilaria and slaying all in their path, eating the cattle and the sheep, and even people, and burning every village to the ground.

Uldor, after mustering his forces by the west shore of the river Dunjil, sent his son Odar across the river with a company of the best Warriors he had to hand, and bid him make ready for battle upon the far shore.  And Uldor ordered all of the villagers who remained to cross over and flee eastwards, to Bankaria, while Uldor commanded what Warriors remained with him in a final desperate stand; making a line along the riverside. 

There Uldor fell, and all his Warriors, as Odar and his company watched in horror from across the water.  Then the Durwolc took to building rafts while archers rained so many arrows on Odar’s men that he perforce must order a retreat from the river, and so gathered what men he could out of the reach of the enemy’s archers.  Yet, another great army of Gobba was soon seen coming down from the north along the eastern bank of the river, just as the Durwolc from the west began crossing on rafts.

It was surmised by Odar too late that the Durwolc had long been breeding in secret, in lands well removed to the west and to the south, until this very day.  But what Odar could not have known was that these Durwolc were but the first part of a great invasion from the West, from the land of Kaivar, ruled by an evil Sorcerer named MorLome.  And it was he who had mustered and sent the Durwolc to make war.

Lo, as Odar began to believe that his doom had come, a great company of Bankari Riders swept down from the hills of North Bankaria and assailed the Durwolc that had been coming south beside the river, just as the enemy that had crossed on rafts were mustering, making ready to charge upon the Dunjilar.   But so mighty were the Bankari that their foes were defeated, though it cost them dearly.  Then they joined the Dunjilar with little time to prepare against a renewed attack from the West.

Leading the Bankari riders was a Warrior Princess named Elloeth, a friend of Odar since childhood, and then a lover; the two at times meeting to engage in romance, though they had not yet pledged their troth.  Thus, Elloeth saved Odar from death, but together they would fight a terrible battle; pushed slowly east by the press of their foes, and leaving fallen behind untold numbers of friends and countrymen.

At length they made it to the River Bankar, where they were forced to swim with or without horses, and where many a horse and Warrior were pierced by arrows as they made the crossing or scrambled upon the far bank.  Then the remnant of those men continued swiftly, fleeing the enemy’s arrows, knowing as well that not long would it be ere the enemy crossed in numbers too great to resist.  And they fled as fast as the Warriors afoot could run, with those still mounted, led by Odar and Elloeth, guarding the rear of the retreat, and keeping a watch upon the enemy.

As in Dunjilaria, the enemy arrived also in the hills north of Bankaria, and villagers were fleeing south in fear for their lives; saying the monsters were hard on their heels, while the remnant had been urging all of the villagers they came across to flee now eastwards, cross the River Forchar, and go thence to hide in the Forest of Aushoa.  So did many of the folk of Rillguman escape, and gathered in the eves of the Forest, as Odar’s remnant, and those who remained to Elloeth, crossed the last river ere the enemy had come.  Then did the remaining Dunjilar and Bankari warriors gather with those of Forcharia in a wide clearing north of that place in the Forest where the people had taken refuge. 

As feared, the Durwolc came from crossing the River Forchar, and also down from the hills in the north, and took to spreading so as to surround the Northrons on three sides.  But suddenly the great Dragon Krakol fell from on high and in short order destroyed all of the foremost and greatest of the Durwolc, then chased the survivors into the rivers west, where many struggling drowned, for Durwolc detest bathing, and submersion in water, and thus know not how to swim.  So it was that Krakol teh Gold saved the Northrons, and spent two days scattering what remained of the enemy westwards. 

Now, the Northrons at first rejoiced at this, but must then make what they could of their plight by building fires for cooking and for the nights, and sleeping in huddles under trees.  And early upon the third day, Krakol came back to them and spoke to the Northrons’ leaders.

Here before Krakol stood the tall Dunjilarian Odar, heir to the High Chieftain, and Elloeth, the Bankari Princess, the daughter of the Bankari Chief, whose name was Meneldil.  And there too was Chief Harlan, of the Forcharians.  But behind these stood all the Dunjular and Bankari Warriors who remained, and the foremost of the Forcharian Horsemen.  And behind these gathered many people, emerging warily from the Forest.  Yet, all of these forlorn survivors would later be named the Northron Remnant.  Of them, the Dunjilarians had become the least, though formerly the very largest tribe.  And the Bankari were now less in number than the Forchakar, though they had been much greater.  Indeed, so many Dunjilar and Bankari had fallen that the Northrons together were here less than half of what they had been.  And they were wholly destitute, with many wounded; sickened from poisoned arrows, so that these were feverish and were dying.  But the elderly and small children were also growing weak from hunger.  So, those who gathered before Krakol were eager to hear what he may say, and hoped he could aid them.  But the dragon, while indeed a Good Dragon, had not the means to provide for them.  And then he said:  “Go not back to your homes in Rillguman, for they are no longer safe.  Send the strong among you to glean what can be saved, but do not tarry, and go now east, to the land of Andaria, where only is your salvation, for the enemy that came against you is but a small portion of a those amassing in the West, in the land of Kaivar.  And before those arrive, you must all be far from this place.  Long has the vile emperor MorLome been preparing this war, and vast are his armies.  Flee then to Andaria, and tarry not upon the way."

The Northrons heeded the words of Krakol, and after a few days of collecting what goods could be found in their former lands, burned and trampled by the Durwolc, they traveled east by the way their forbears had come generations before, and thus left their woodlands and their rivers behind.

Slow and dolorous was that journey, where soon were lost all of those who had been wounded by enemy arrows, even by mere scratch.  But the Forchar gave many a horse over to draw biers upon which sick and elderly and small children could ride.  And the Warriors hunted to get meat, while the People gathered nuts and berries and what other food they may find along the way.  Yet, many ranchers they expected to see were gone, and many a horses’ bones were found about the remains of great bonfires.  Therefore, the Northrons grew wary, and scouts were sent to spy out the way; some never to be seen again.

As the Northrons later entered into the pass above the Stone-Cap Mountains they were attacked by Durwolc running up from the foothills to the south.  And these were a kind called Kobo, who are as tall as Men, and much like to Men, but fanged and clawed of hand, and deformed of face.  And they were armed with spears and swords made of iron, but held no bows, nor did any of them ride horses, so that they attacked on foot in large companies.

There fell Chief Harlan defending his folk un-mounted, and many a good Warrior besides.  But the Northrons defeated the Kobo, and drove their small number of survivors back into the hills, but did not chase them far for fear of leaving the People unguarded.  And the Remnant did not linger in those parts, but moved even through the nights, and at last made a weary camp in grasslands far to the northeast of Andaria.  Yet, their water was spent, and they intended only to rest while the Warriors hunted and sought streams thereabouts.  But ere that could be done, a huge pack of wolves attacked from the north, and slew many who were not well armed, especially the young.  And that was a dire sorrow. 

The Warriors were hard pressed fithing the wolves, for there were scores of them.  But horns were suddenly heard blaring from the southeast, at which the wolves broke off and ran north, howling in rage.  Then there rode up a company of Andarian Rangers who pursued the wolves for a while, but soon returned to lend aid to the Remnant, who were glad indeed to have been rescued.

That is how the Remnant of the Northrons of Rillguman came to Andaria, in the days of the First Invasion from the West.  So, the fighting in Rillguman was named the First Battles of the Invasion sent by MorLome, the evil Sorcerer of Kaivar, and self-proclaimed “Emperor of the West”.  And those attacks are called the Battles of Rillguman in the Chronicles of Andaria which are kept in the King’s Castle in Romin.  So also does this mark the beginning of all the terrible Wars of MorLome, and thus the beginning of the Days of Exile of the Northron Remnant.

The Rangers sent for food and water, and tents and bedding for the weary Northrons, and then listened to their tale.  Then the Ranger's Captain sent messengers to the King, and after a few days led the Remnant south and then east, and thus into Andaria, at which he and his Guards rode beside the three Chieftains, and so conducted them on into the presence of the King, Thoron Dol.

I was there when the Rangers brought the Northron Chieftains before the King in Romin.  And all the Court heard Odar give his tale of woe, and beseech the King to give aid to his people.  But Odar spoke also the words of Krakol, and warned of the coming of Durwolc in large numbers from the West.  Then did the King know that war was upon him, for of late reports had come of trouble from Durwolc which had lately swarmed in the Stone-Cap Mountains, much too near, and of large armies of the Men of Kulahn in the South massing at a place but six day’s ride from Romin, as one follows the course of the River Theweg.  And Dwarves from the Ice Mountains north, there to engage in trade, spoke of war with Durwolc in mountains to the northwest, and Cold Drakes from the northeast, who were ruled now by a Frost Demon the Dwarves had named Kruensaur.  But Elves of Eastwold had also spoken of the Demon.  Those Elves had departed some months before, and neither they nor any other Elves had returned to do their accustomed trading in Andaria.  What is more, no Andarians who had lately set out to trade in the Ice Mountains or in Eastwold had yet returned.  And indeed, none were seen again.

Thus, it happened that all trade routes east, north, and west were cut off.  And many travelers upon the roads went missing, while scouts the King sent now in those directions never returned.

The King in those days was Thoron Dol, called Good King Thoron by his people, so much did they love him, for he was kind and wise, and generous, though a great Warrior, in the right line of Andar himself.  And he ceded to the Northron Remnant a portion of land northeast of Romin, in an area that had no dwellings, along a stream that had beforehand been used only for hunting and fishing.  And he gave of his own vast treasure so that they may have tents and bedding, and clothes and supplies, and may not want for anything of which they had need.  And later he built fine houses for the Three Chieftains, but Odar, the High Chieftain, he declared should thenceforth be held an Honorary King of the Northrons of Rillguman.  Then Odar became one of the most trusted Counselors of the King, for Odar was himself very wise.  But the sad Northrons never forgot their former homes in far Rillguman, nor forsook the desire to return, someday, to the Land of Three Rivers.  And they sang to their children the Tells of their folk, filling their youth with dreams of going back “where grows green grass tall, and flowers of every hue.  And where there is such abundance that none go hungry, and where there is wealth of land unfathomed, in Rillguman, where the Northrons once dwelt, and cared not of the West.  Nor did we know then of war nor of sorrow.”

So many people had the Remnant lost in fighting, and upon the road, that they came to Andaria as only a tithe of what they had been.  So, King Thoron decreed that they should not engage in war until their numbers should be restored.  Therefore, none of the Remnant took part in the defense of Andaria at that time, though their Warriors were given positions as Guardsmen in Romin, and as teachers in the Military Arts, at which they excelled, even their women.  And while the people of Andaria had pity upon them, they earned their keep, for they were willing to labor hard for little in return, so glad were they then to be given land by the King.  And so it was that the Northrons came to Andaria, and the kingdom was much the better for it.

Soon in truth was war loosed upon Andaria.  And we were swiftly surrounded, and then besieged for three years.  But with the aid of magicks which I and my brother Wizards imparted to weapons we gave to the Rangers of the Marches, we had victory, and then drove away the enemy with great slaughter.  But that was rather a sad victory, for many Rangers had fallen, and many villagers were lost ere they could flee to the City.  And therein many people lost their lives to poisons and pestilence sent upon them by users of magic in the enemy’s ranks.  And there were Evil Dragons, and other flying monsters, who wrought death and destruction from above.  Furthermore, while the Marches were made safe, Andaria had not the strength to free the nearby lands west and south of Durwolc and other monsters, who therefore remained in far off Rillguman, and within the Stone-Cap Mountains, and also in the Jungles to the South.  And at whiles Durwolc of various kinds would engage in raids, doing great harm to the villages round about, but would then flee swiftly from whence they had come ere Rangers could arrive to stop them.  Yet, apart from that, we Andarians had peace after the First Invasion was ended.  And Odar and Elloeth were married, and had many offspring.  And I grew to love them all as though they were my very own kin.  But to Odar I gave a special gift, the same as that which I bestowed to the Kings and the Wielders since the days of Andar himself.  And that was the gift of a prolonged life, thrice that to which Men are accustomed.   And so long did Odar keep living that his people named him Odar the Old, ere his end. 

Many generations of Men passed in peace in Andaria, so that trade was restored with the Dwarves and the Elves, though the Marches west and south had ever to be patrolled and constantly manned with large armies of Rangers.  And ever did the Durwolc stage raids, and tested our strength.  And it became known that MorLome, the vile Sorcerer of the West, would send men as spies amongst us, to learn our ways and secrets.  But I did my best to uncover them, and slay them, if I could, though such ones were an ever present trouble for the Kingdom.  Yet, that is another tale.

It came about, in time, that MorLome unleashed his Second Invasion upon Andaria, starting suddenly with hordes of evil Durwolc attacking the Westmarch, and throngs of the Men of Kulahn striking from the South.  Yet, by then, the Northrons had restored their former numbers, and partook in those battles; much to the ire of the enemy.  For the Northrons were fell, and mighty of limb, and wrecked at last their vengeance upon the Durwolc in memory of their long lost land of Rillguman.

The Adventures of Brandar Odaron

Book 1:  The Hidden Continent

Chapter 1      Brandar’s Youth 

Know that I am a Wizard.  And one, some say, of great fame.  My name is Maneldor, and I hail from the City of Romin in Andaria, where are the well-known Palaklar, the greatest weapons the world has ever known; many of which I myself have fashioned for use in the defense of this proud and noble realm.  For this is the land of my birth, and the home of my heart, and in my day has become the greatest of the Kingdoms of Men.

I was here in Romin when the Northrons of Rillguman arrived in Andaria after being driven with much loss from their land in the First Invasion from the West.  Forsooth, I was there to hear the first telling of how the young Chieftain Odar and the fair princess Elloeth led through sorrowful trial and dire misfortune the weary Remnant of the embattled and destitute Northrons from the destruction of their homeland; once right numerous clans, coming to us then as but a handful of refugees, ragged and careworn.  And I loved Odar and Elloeth as my dearest of friends, and likewise all of their kith and kin, and all of their progeny throughout their swift and bittersweet years.  And it was I who convinced the King in those days, Thoron Dol, to name Odar the Honorary King of the Northrons of Romin, though it would be Odar’s people who came to call him Odar the Old, so long did he live; a seeming wondrous thing, in which I secretly played a part.

Terrible indeed was that First Invasion.  And many good folk were lost therein.   But we won, after many years, by the magicks set within the first of the Palaklar given into the hands of the Rangers on the Marches.  And those weapons served us well for many generations, as they ensured the peace that followed the war.

In time, however, MorLome launched his Second Invasion, more terrible than the First, and where all of Andaria was surrounded by uncounted Durwolc, and assailed by evil Dragons, and beset by Giants of many kinds, and plagued by other foul monsters.  But due to the powers of the Palaklar, and other magicks of my own protecting the City, and the ferocity of the Northrons, we halted the enemy advance.  Then great armies of Dwarves came to our aid from the Ice Mountains north and the Anaurians east.  And that turned the tide, so that together we drove the enemy into the south, and then to the west.  But the peace that followed lasted only one generation of Men, after which the Sorcerer of Kaivar sent forth his Third Invasion, in which the Durwolc and Dragons, and Giants and many other monsters, came against us as before, but here were they commanded by users of magic of all sorts, even among Durwolc.  And there were swarms of Men from both the West and the South, with Mages of their own.  And we were hard pressed to keep the enemy from defeating us.

Yet, again by the Palaklar and by my other magicks, and those of my fellow Wizards, we stayed the assault, and forced the enemy to make encampments all around the Valley of Niehosc, though they later managed to come down from the Cliffs East, to as close in as half a league from the City of Romin.  And so long was this stalemate to remain that it came to be called the Long Siege.  

Years did that siege last, and drained steadily the strength of the kingdom.   And it was during this siege that there arose from the Dunjilar the hero Brandar Odaron, right heir of Odar the Old, and thus in line to be High Chieftain of the Northrons, but which folk were all by then being called Dunjilarians.

Much there is to say about Brandar, who would come to be called the greatest adventurer in the AforeTime of Men.  A slayer of evil Dragons he was, bane of pirates, doom of Demons, and king by his own hand in the far land of legend Arzultaur, on the Hidden Continent, beyond the Enchanted Mists.  Yet, here I give but an account of his youth, and his first daring deeds, ere he went off exploring upon the face of Esaereh.

Unlike most Northrons in Andaria, Brandar grew up in a large house in the area of the City of Romin that came to be called the Dunjil Quarter, which was that bit of land given to the Northron Remnant by Good King Thoron in the earliest days of the First Invasion, and around which area the northern parts of the City had later grown.  Thus, as the son of Brodar Odaron, the High Chieftain and Honorary King of the Dunjilarians, supported by the King of Andaria, Brandar was considered rather spoiled, in those fearful days of the Siege.  And mayhap this was true; for other Northron children dwelt in lowly houses, poor and untutored, as the Andarians had long ceased to view the Northons as refugees.

The Three Tribes had since been left to fend for themselves.  Yet, no Northron beggar nor thief trod the dusty streets of our great City, while there were many such ones among Andarians.  And in those days, many Dunjilarians had come to be counted among the greatest of the Wielders of the Palaklar on the Marches of Andaria, as they were natural warriors by stock and upbringing; for, by tradition, all of the men and not a few women of the Dunjilarians joined with the Rangers as soon as coming of age, and many achieved renown fighting Durwolc upon the Marches.

So it was with the young Brandar; raised in what remained known as The House of Odar.  Above the great hearth of that old house were mounted the crossed swords of Odar and Elloeth which the two had wielded in leading the Remnant from Rillguman.  And those blades yet bore the notches which they had put there in defense of their folk, for the swords had not seen battle since coming to Andaria.  Odar himself set there the swords on the day of his betrothel to the beautiful Elloeth, and decreed that they should never be reforged.  Thus, there they remained when Brandar was born.

Many times as a youth did Brandar’s mind wander as he gazed upon those revered brands, while his mother cooked meals in the hearth and his father was off fighting Durwolc in the Westmarch.  Then would Brandar imagine that he wielded Odar’s blade in hard duels with Durwolc.  And once he dreamed that he slew an evil Dragon, and in another fought grizzled pirates aboard a ship on the sea, which he had not yet seen, but had merely heard of it in tales.  And in yet another he found himself doing battle upon some mystical land where trees grew as tall as mountains.

Then one night, as if it were a vision, he dreamt of himself as a full grown man, and in the dream slew a powerful Demon, then cast the creature’s body from an high tower of stone.  Far down it fell into a great flaming mote, at which Brandar woke, soaked in sweat.  But he spoke not of this to his parents, although he else often described his dreams to them. 

Always did Brandar ask his parents about the lore of his people, and pestered all of his teachers and Elders with questions about foreign lands, and everything from history to magic.  And in his bed chamber he collected piles of scrolls, and stacks of maps, and many small items from other places, like coins, and carven figures made of wood.  But his most beloved treasure was a small knife of Dwarvish make which his father had given to him, saying:  “Keep this blade secret and safe, as I now show you.  And some day it may save you.  Yea, even if all else is taken from you.  Then shall you thank your old sire for this seeming smallest of gifts.”  And Brodar showed him how to conceal the knife in a pouch which he must sew into the leg of his trousers, as Brodar himself does with a similar weapon.  And he instructed Brandar to speak of it to no one, not even to his most trusted friends and lovers, nor even to his mother.  And Brandar spoke of the little knife to no other soul until many long years had passed.

When Brandar was sixteen years of age, I chanced to speak with him, and told him, upon being questioned, of the Ghieveh, the Gods of Old, and their departing from Esaereh, where they had created the Enchanted Mists, far away, upon the Wide Yerhiesc, the Great Eastern Sea, from which Mists few who entered have ever returned.  But I said not that I myself had done so, an Age apast.  Yet, I now ken that my words then kindled an imperishable desire within his heart, to go himself and brave the Mists.  For he said to me later:  “I wished to see what lay beyond, if mortal man may dare, and seek those Gods; to boldly challenge them with all of my burning questions.”  And while Bandar never met the spirit Powers he wished to confront all his days, verily did he enter the Enchanted Mists and returned from them, in the making of his Tale.  But here I shall relate only that story which is called The Fall of Bitlawen, in which Brandar slew a mighty Winged Dragon as the first of his greatest achievements.

Brandar was but twelve years of age when his father Brodar fell in battle on the bloody fields of the Westmarch, during the Long Siege of the Third Invasion.  Then did Brandar’s mother beg the Northron Elders to raise Brandar to be a mighty Chieftain.  And so, Brandar had much in the way of training in the military arts, and lordly schooling, even at that age.  But eveer did he excel at everything he tried.  And ever was he the champion of all weaker but goodhearted youths, against bullies much taller than himself; winning any fight, even against many foes.  So, he gained respect as a fighter from those days on, ever defending the good against the wicked.  And he grew very tall, and right handsome, with the blonde hair of his clan.

At twenty years of age he joined the Rangers of the Westmarch, and because of his training proved himself many times fighting Durwolc, even at times upon the very field where his father had fallen.  Thus, he rose swiftly through the ranks, becoming the youngest Captain of the Westmarch Rangers that had ever been.  And ere long, he was hailed by all the men under his command as the best fighter they had ever seen.  

There, he slew Gobba and Orgu, and Kobo and Gress, and the very greatest of Trollo, and all of the Men from Kaivar who came against him.  And because of his prowess, he was made a Wielder of the Palaklar at a younger age than any of those days.  For the Wielders could not remain afield at all times, growing weary from combat.  Thus, men and women of proven skill were chosen to wield a given magical weapon, so that it could remain in battle while a worn Wielder rested.  Hence, each Palaklar had five or more Wielders assigned to it, and Brandar became one of the chosen.  But he would not rest while others fought, as would most Wielders.  Rather, he wielded an ordinary sword in support of a fellow Wielder, or would take up some other task requested or commanded by his superiors.  And in this way at length he found himself in command of a Company of mounted Rangers, two of which were close cousins to himself; men he had known since childhood, trained with, and with whom he was great friends.  And their names were Alak and Daram.

Then came a time during the Long Siege that a Winged Dragon came to the Westmarch, and would fall from a great height upon the Rangers.  But ere a sufficient attack could be made against him, he would fly away, only later to return and do the same once more, and again, and again.  And this occurred for so many days that the Queen at that time, Idrisil Dol, the widow of a King who had fallen in the Southmarch, placed a bounty upon the head of the Dragon, who had been named Bitlawen by the Rangers of the Westmarch.  And Brandar’s Company had twice been attacked by the beast, losing several men at each turn.  So, Brandar swore openly before the Queen that he would win that bounty.  

A plan he made with his men, whereby they would take out with them barbed hooks on the ends of ropes, and so prepared they rode bravely to set themselves up as bait.

Down the dark Bitlawen swooped, and slew two of Brandar’s men ere anything could be done to stop him.  But the men threw their hooks and three took hold of the Dragon by its wings, while one caught its neck and another its hind leg.  And while one man was pulled from his horse ere he could even tie the rope to his saddle-horn, the rest were able to secure the beast and keep it from flying off.  Then the remaining Rangers attacked the beast with spears and swords, aiming mostly for its belly, as elsewhere was it covered with impenetrable scales.  And in this way, after a very long fight, in which three men more were slain, the Dragon was wounded so sorely that it could no longer resist.  Then did Brandar ride swiftly in and stabbed upward with his sword from beneath its lower jaw, cleaving its tongue and driving deep into its skull.  Thus did it die, and so fell upon its side.

The surviving men of the company began to cheer Brandar, and clap him on the back, not noticing that a band of Gobba who had come close now fled upon witnessing the Dragon being slain.  But Brandar bid his men mind their joy, because of those who had fallen.  And he had them take the dead men to the City, from where their bodies would be sent to their families to be buried.

That is how Brandar won fame as a bane of Dragons, along with his cousins, Alak and Daram, who survived, and with the other surviving men of his company.  But Brandar, having won the Queen’s bounty, divided it equally among them.  Then also did Brandar become favored by the Queen and was heralded in all the land as the Hero who brought about The Fall of Bitlawen.  But this was ere Brandar had become the right High Chieftain of the Dunjilarians of Andaria, though he was the heir of Odar.  For that he must await a declaration by the Tribe's Elders.

Now can be told a thing which Brandar learned not until many years after, for he departed Andaria in secret, and went away East, as written in this tomb.  And I myself only learned of it much later, during questioning of a Kaivarian captured in battle.  But some time after Brandar had gone, MorLome heard of Brandar from his Generals, and from his Spies, who spoke of Brandar’s prowess, and of The Fall of Bitlawen.  And so angered was the Sorcerer that he set a price of his own upon Brandar’s head.  Yet, none were ever to claim it, for Brandar returned not to Andaria until the end of the Fourth Invasion, many generations after the hard won end of the Long Siege.

This therefore ends the Tell of Brandar’s Youth, and of his first deed of fame in the dire days of the Third Invasion, wherein he earned, in addition to being a Wielder, the title of Hero of the Westmarch, for becoming a Dragon-Slayer.

The Adventures of Brandar Odaron

Book 1: The Hidden Continent

Chapter 2      Brandar’s Desire

When Brandar reached his twenty-fourth year of age, he was brought before the Northron Elders and in a solemn ceremony declared the High Chieftain, and therefore became the Honorary King of the Dunjularians of Andaria, according to the tradition set by Good King Thoron in the early days of the First Invasion.  And straight away Brandar sought an audience with the Queen’s brother, Prince Tarl, grandson of Thoron Dol, while the Queen was wielding the Scepter in the Southmarch.  And there Brandar confessed his desire to go East in secret, to seek aid from the Dwarves of the Anaurian Mountains, for the Long Siege was ever reducing the strength of Andaria, and bringing the Marches ever closer to the City.  So, surely the kingdom would fall.  But the Prince was loath to let Brandar go without the Queen’s blessing.  And he bid Brandar await the Queen’s word.  Messengers he sent to inform her of Brandar’s request, at which Brandar, downtrodden, returned to his duties.  Receiving the message about Brandar, Queen Idrisil left off from commanding her forces in the Southmarch and returned to Romin, where she summoned Brandar to appear before her, wishing to speak with him herself, for she was surprised that such a valued Warrior deigned to leave the realm at such a time.  “By no means shall I approve such a departure, Brandar” said she, after a brief discussion with him, where he voiced his desire.  “It is the tradition of this realm to support your people, for you are dear to us.  But that also means protecting you from your own rash actions.  Are not the Dunjilarians among the greatest of my Wielders?  We require your strength now more than ever before.  But why would you wish to call doom upon yourself in such a foolhardy manner?  Surely you do not fear the Siege, any more than your beloved sire, Brodar.  But to go forth into the enemy’s ranks is folly.” “Such doom would not mean death”, said Brandar, “if I were disguised as one of the enemy.  Then should I be through them and in the mountains east ere they are ware of my nature and purpose.  And while I do not fear the leaguer, I fear that Andaria will not be able to free herself from the enemy’s grasp.  And so, in time, shall fall.”  “You would perish in the attempt”, said the Queen.  “I forbid it, do you hear me?  You cannot leave us at this time.  And I shall consider it no further.”  And she refused to give in, no matter how much more Brandar begged of her.

Then Brandar once again returned to the Westmarch, but fought as hard as ever, for he was honorable, and would put the will of the Queen above his own, whatever betide.  Yet, Idrisil did not then forbid her brother from granting Brandar’s desire should he inherit the Scepter, for she was very aged, and deemed that she would not long remain among the living.  And ere she returned to the Southmarch, where she intended to spend her last days, she had secret words with the Prince, saying:  “Listen to me, Tarl.  I did not let Brandar go, not because we do not need him to go, but because I love him as a son, and could not bear to see him leave us.  And I would not sleep, knowing that he has gone, disguised or no, though he held the mightiest of the Palaklar in his hand.  Yet, not much longer shall I abide in this land of misery and death.  I feel it deep in my bones that my time is soon to come.  Then shall you become King, and may do as you wish.  Therefore, I lay no charge upon you that you must keep Brandar against his will, for it is clear that he has a most magnificent spirit.  Yea, the spirit of Odar himself is in Brandar, and the best of my Warriors would follow his commands sooner than my own, though I doubt not their loyalty, nor his.  And he could get some portion of them through to the East, just as Odar led the Remnant from the slaughter upon Rillguman.  But, dare I say it, he would go someday in any wise, whether we have approved of it or no.  This, therefore, I say to you.  When my life is no more, you may let Brandar go.  But I require of thee, let but few go with him, and those unmarried and childless.  Let no Andarian widow nor orphan result from his decision to go forth.”  And to this Tarl agreed, though he was troubled to hear his sister foretelling her own fall.  Yet, it happened that the Queen lay herself down three months from that day, weary of fighting in the Southmarch, and died peacefully in her tent.

The Scepter was brought to Tarl, who thus knew that she had passed, though he was comforted when the messenger said that she had died in her sleep.  But she was buried in the Southmarch, as she had said she wished to be.  And all in the kingdom were many days in mourning.

A fortnight since Idrisil’s passing, Tarl summoned Brandar, and when he presented himself two days later, Tarl granted him leave to go; knowing full well that the realm would perish if aid came not soon.  And thus did Tarl and I support Brandar in the preparing of the young man's plan.   

Six volunteers did Brandar choose to go with him; two of pure blood each from the Three Tribes of the Northrons, but no Andarians, even of mixed blood, for Brandar held that this task belonged to Warriors of Northron descent in payment to the Andarians for their former kindness to the Remnant, so long ago.  And those Seven Northrons trained long under the direction of the King and his Knights, though the Knights were not told the secret plan.  But I also instructed the Seven, as best I could, about the nature and whereabouts of the enemy in the direction they intended to go.  Thus were they made fit for that fateful sojourn; straight it seemed into the jaws of a grim and tortured death.

None but I and Brandar, not even the Volunteers, nor King Tarl, believed then that any of them would reach the mountains alive.

When at length the time was come, the brave Seven were given clothing from slain enemies, and captured badges of authority of the highest ranks in the armies of MorLome.  And I worked then disguises upon their bodies, to make them appear as Gress and Kobo.  A spell I also cast upon them, that imparted to their minds the speech of the enemy.  And while they were utterly disgusted with the stinking and rotten clothing, the spell made them so ill that three of them wretched upon the ground.

Lastly, I gave to them necklaces made with fine silver chains, each affixed with a different precious gem.  And the gems held within them different powers of magic.  But should the Seven all remain within a hundred paces of each other, then each gemstone would possess the powers of its sisters.  Thus must I instruct the Seven in the proper words for commanding the powers of each of the gems, and that was no simple task, for the words were from an archaic tongue known only to Wizards of the foremost orders, and they must learn the proper way of voicing them. 

Having previously said their goodbyes to family and friends, while saying only that they were “Off to the Marches”, the Seven could not move about freely once their disguises were complete, lest they be attacked by mistake.  And they were kept hidden deep beneath the Castle at Romin while preparing to leave; spending much time memorizing the commands for the gemstones, and practicing the use of their magicks.  Then, at length, King Tarl led us all through the dungeons and into secret tunnels below, which Andar the Great had his workmen delve long ago, but of which I too had knowledge.  And therefore, none but the King and I knew of the Seven’s departure, as we were well aware in those days that everywhere lurked enemy spies.

“I still do not understand why you cannot magically send us to some safe place in the Eastlands,” said Brandar, as we trudged along holding torches.  “You are such a great wizard.  Will you not even try?”  A strange troupe we must have looked, with lordly King Tarl in the lead, followed by an aging mage conversing so intently with seven dirty monsters, marching in a line down those dank and dark tunnels.  “There is no such thing as a safe place any more!” said I.  “Remember what I have been saying.  We are under a siege from a powerful Sorcerer.  There is a great ring of foes all around us, including many users of magic, and an unseen power over our heads.  You cannot see it, but it is there.  And that is what prevents me from sending you off with the mere voicing of a spell and a wave of my hand.  Oh, I wish I could do just that, but it is simply not possible.  You must go on foot, in the night, by this very way, unmarked.  And all the help I can give you has already been given.”

There was silence for a while.  Then the King spoke up, saying to the Seven:  “I must confess that I am yet torn between yay and nay, in this matter.  But I am resolved to let you men go.  Soon will we be desperate for aid in force of arms, as you already know only too well.  And may the Gods grant that such aid comes swiftly.  The borders shrink yet again, as ever more Rangers fall.  And the cries of their children are like arrows in my heart.”  “Indeed,” said I, in sympathy.  “Surely we need not counsel such warriors in the way of things on the Marches.  But in the ways of the enemy, they may be all too ignorant, as well as that may be under other conditions.  Here they are to mingle with the enemy, not merely fight them. 

"Remember that while you are among them, you must behave as wickedly as you can possibly manage.  And you must dominate, confuse, escape from, or else defeat any who oppose you, if you cannot at least avoid confrontation.  The Thralls of MorLome are ugly and evil on the inside as well as on the outside.  They are not kind to each other, not even to their closest kin.  They will quarrel and fight for the least of reasons.  And it is only by the Sorcerer’s will that they band together in this war.”  “And remember, you have provisions for only seven days in your packs,” said the King.  “You must therefore have reached safe hunting grounds within eight or nine days from now, but fresh water you must also find on the way.  Else you must have met with the Dwarves ere your food runs out.”  “But do not forget to remove your disguises,” I said, “when you come to the mountains.  For the Dwarves may slay you as soon as you enter their realm.  And tarry not once you have left the ranks of the enemy.  Some of the Sorcerer’s servants will have sensed your magicks, whether you use them or no.  And be watchful for attacks from the air.  Keep a watch on the skies!  For the Sorcerer will have control of the very clouds above.  And there are many winged monsters flying about, including Dragons and Drakes, hiding in the Dwarves’ own mountains.  Beware winged-ones in the sky.

"Have I not shown you how far the enemy likely stretches east, and in what strength, as such things can be judged in these days of uncertainty?  The way you have chosen is fraught with the gravest of perils.  You have come to a test from which only the Gods can deliver you.  And there is no returning once you leave this tunnel.  Nevertheless, for some reason I cannot explain, I feel, or hope, that you may prevail, after all.  And that is why the King and I have both consented to your quest.”  “True enough,” said Tarl.  “I am dismayed that you intend to go forth of your own accord, with no command from me.  But we need you to do this.  Hence, against my better judgement I am allowing it, and I pray to the Gods that they see fit to assist you in your efforts.”

Nigh a third of a league the tunnel went east, but it seemed that we had walked much farther, lighting new torches picked up on the way ere we reached the end.  And there we entered a cave with dripping roots beneath a very great tree.  But in the midst of the tangle was an old wooden ladder going up through a hole into the hollowed out middle of the tree.  So, up that ladder we climbed and emerged into a room beset with small closed doors to the four directions of the winds.  And there was yet another ladder to a locked trap door in the ceiling, but we did not go there.  Then I cast a spell of scrying upon myself, and made to seek for whereabouts of enemies outside. 

Around the room I moved, searching, and discovered that indeed there were enemies camped all about the grove of trees in which grew the tree we were in, and also marching in companies upon nearby roads, but none were too close to us.  Then said I:  “By all means avoid roads and paths that are heavily traveled.  Thralls on errands for their masters tend to go along straight routes in a determined manner, but are easily led off course.  So, you must appear to be doing just that, while steadily making your way east.

“And all honestly, try not to use the necklaces I have given you.  They will only give you away.  There are many among the enemy who sense magic by nature, even if they cannot use it.  But there are Mages among them, also.  Wield the Gems only in the face of certain death.  And avoid meeting Mages and magical creatures of any kind.  Recall that I have explained why you were not given magic weapons.  Magic is like a fire in the night, when unleashed.  So, if you use the gems, you must flee swiftly from that place."

More I said to the Seven.  But when I finished my scrying I turned then to Tarl, saying:  “It is quite clear for the moment, Sire.  But we haven’t much time.  The enemy is encamped all around this grove.  The Northrons must leave now.  And we must be going, as well.  There is no telling when the secret of this tree may be discovered.”

Tarl explained that the hollowed-out tree stood in a dense grove due east of the City, near the edge of the Valley of Niehosc.  And the doors were under a spell of concealment, and had been for many generations.  Then he suggested that the Seven should go northeast whence leaving the tree, and then north for a while, ere turning east, so as to throw off any direct trail back to the grove.

“Perhaps you could steal some horses,” said Tarl, “after you have traveled some ways eastwards.  Else you shall have to go all the way afoot, which will stretch your supplies to their limit.  Yet, you have been given the most you can carry in those packs.”  Then I said:  “You might also have to capture or kill some higher-ranking Thralls, if that can be done safely.  Question them for knowledge of the whereabouts of their friends, and take their badges, so as to help bluff your way through.  Otherwise, do not risk it, and avoid conflict whenever you can.  But should you use magic, extinguish the gems' powers straight away, once they are no longer needed.”  “When you reach the mountains,” said Tarl, “look to paths southeast, as you were shown on the maps.  There lies the way to the Dwarf-Realm of Barador.  But you must remove your disguises ere seeking out the Dwarves.”  “You can go right away, out that door”, said I, pointing to the south door, instead of the east.  “It is the middle night.  And while many of the Durwolc see better than Men in darkness, we should not wait for daylight.  This tree is in rather a large grove, and after you round this tree, then leave the grove sidewise, so that it appears to the enemy that you are merely passing through the edge of the grove rather than emerging from its midst, whence you come to their attention.  In any event, the King and I shall return to the City forthwith.”  “Good fortune,” said Tarl.  “And send aid to us very soon.”  “Good fortune,” said I.  But with that, Brandar went out, followed by the Six Volunteers.  And Tarl closed the door behind them, saying:  “Never again shall I see those men.”

Again, I cast a spell of scrying, to discern what I could of the brave Northron’s progress, where at length I sensed that they left the grove untroubled.  But I soon lost the sense of them.  “Bah!” says I.  “It is no good now.  The glamory above us will not abide such a link.  And I must not keep trying or I shall draw the Thralls to this place.  Doubtless, they will find it soon enough without my aid.”  “Aye,” said Tarl.  “And I shall have the tunnel blocked up, for the enemy will surely try to use it whence it is found.”   “Then I shall set a barrier herein,” said I, “beyond which none may pass.”

Well it was that we returned when we did, and the tunnel forever sealed, as later I would learn.  For the hollow tree was discovered by a company of Gobba sent to fetch firewood.  And while the Thralls attempted to go down the tunnel, they found the way barred by bricks that seemed to go forever, as they attempted to attack it with pick and hammer, or to dig around it.  Nor could mages dispel it.  So, at last the Thralls gave up, but burned then the entire grove to the ground.  And while the enemy had long been digging tunnels, they were enraged by the magic barrier; redoubling their efforts elsewhere.  And that was troublesome, as the more often would they spring from the ground behind our warriors, and slew many a good Ranger in that manner.

 The Adventures of Brandar Odaron

Book 1:  The Hidden Continent

Chapter 3      Of News From The East

We had no more news of Brandar until the end of the Third Invasion, where the Dwarf Lord Bereth Longhand, leading a vast army of the Dwarves of Anauria, came down from the mountains and broke the leaguer of MorLome in the Eastmarch, and is thus held as saving Andaria from destruction at that time.  Then Bereth spoke of his meeting with Brandar; revealing that the Seven had indeed made it through the ranks of the enemy, from the Valley of Niehosc to the eastern slopes of the Anaurian Range.

“Verily,” said Bereth to King Tarl, “I should not have come so soon were it not for Brandar and his company.  Yet, he would not come with me, choosing instead to go on to speak with the Elves of Eastwold, and then sail on by ship, if needs be, seeking yet other allies to send after me.  For he wanted intently to be sure that Andaria would be saved.  And he swore that he would go to the end of the sea, even to the hidden home of the Powers, to beg their help in his quest to defeat MorLome, so that, someday, his people may return to their long lost homes upon Rillguman, the ancient land of my kin in the Ice Mountains.  Then did I know the more that here were brave and worthy Men, these Emissaries, as they named themselves.  Would that they had returned here with me, to aid in the driving off of this enemy.

“But alas, they resolved to go East.  And I, for my part, supplied them with guides and my tallest mounts, for I believe their cause to be just.”  So spake Bereth Longhand, Lord of Barador, and the Inheritor of the legendary battle-axe Ankiramarth, of the Palaklar.  But Bereth knew little of the Seven’s trek through the enemy’s ranks, saying:  “They did not reveal much; always delaying their answers or avoiding the subject.  All we knew at first was that they had made it to the mountains pursued by what seemed the whole army of the West.  That is when we let them know that we were watching from above; thinking that they were spies of the enemy until we noticed that they were being chased.  Seven Men in ragged clothing, limping, bloody, completely worn out, and fleeing for their very lives in the cold stone pass.  Then we took them in.  But they remained only two weeks with us.

“I set them upon the passes east with provisions for many days, and my best guides showing them the way.  But of their further road, we have had no news.”  As it happens, the Seven went on safely in the Eastern Realms, speaking with Elves and others of the Free Peoples there, who were likewise so moved by Brandar’s pleas that they sent forces of their own.  Yet, Brandar would at all times decline to come with them, preferring at length to take ship with the Elves of the Coastlands, and sail the Wide Yerhiesc, so as to speak with the Men of Quiechios and of Ghevelieze.  And the Seven made passage by serving as guards aboard merchant ships plagued by pirates from Fehvahr, whom the Elves said would sell captured slaves to the Kulahnians, allies of MorLome.  

Then did Brander learn, by letters I sent to him, that the enemy had finally been driven from Andaria, and that his mission was therefore fulfilled.  But he sent a letter in return, saying that he had now a new quest; to go exploring upon the sea.  And so proficient were the Seven at fending off pirates that they earned for themselves a worthy ship of their own in which to go sailing.  And aboard that small but sturdy ship, Wingaron, they rode out of the knowledge of the Men and Elves of the Isles, some the last to see them sailing away.  But one of those Men reported that “the Seven intend to dare the Enchanted Mists at the very edge of the sea, and shall surely therefore be lost.”

Later, when King Tarl came at length to great agedness, and lay upon his bed with his sons all around, he said to me:  “Behold, my friend.  I was right after all.  The Seven have not yet returned to receive their much deserved reward, and I go now to my rest without seeing them again.  Would that Brandar were here with my sons, as our right honored King of the Dunjilarians.  I would dearly love to gaze upon his noble young face once more.  Too few were his years with us.”  But I took the old king’s hand and spoke reassuringly to him, saying:  “Fear not for Brandar and his men, my Lord.  I feel it in my heart that the Seven live, and are doing great deeds in some faraway land.  And mayhap they shall return, someday.  Indeed, I foretell it so.”  Then Tarl smiled, comforted, but went soon to the Halls of the Dead.

What none knew of me in those days, not even King Tarl, is that I once braved the Enchanted Mists, but without a ship, in my youth, having learned magic from a great Mage that was the sire of the woman I loved, but who died of a malady which he could not thwart.  And by spell-magic I flew through the airs in sadness, wandering, and searching out the secrets of Esaereh; desiring to find ways to cheat death, though discovering only that such learning is not to be had by mortal Men.  Yet, I succeeded in finding ways to prolong life, most especially my own, and to some extent the lives of others to a lesser degree, with much effort.  But ever do I give thanks to the Gods for allowing me to gain such knowing, for it is only by their grace that I obtained it.

Long did I journey, even ere Andar had founded his kingdom in the wide Valley of Niehosc, upon the continent of Weyilendeh, going each in turn north and south, then east and west, and there speaking with Mages and Wizards and Alchemists and all other users of magic wherever I found the cities and towns of people of many kinds.

Weyilendeh I encompassed first; braving the frostlands north, then those to the south, and all teh lands between, and from one coast to the other.  And many times must I remain in a country long enough to learn the speech of their folk.  Then did I fly over the Western Ocean, finding there a continent, much smaller than Weyilendeh, and where dwelt only Elves, among thinking beings, though few in number, for there were mostly dense forests there, from north to south, and much wildlife but no monsters.  Yet, those Elves long ago departed, and went whither-so-ever they desired; in the earliest days of Men, and attached themselves to other Elves in other lands, or founded other realms of their own.

Westward then did I continue magically flying, and crossed yet another ocean, full of creatures of the sea, and many serpents of differing sizes, and other monsters, though I viewed them only from above, and never went too close.  And that is how I came to the Enchanted Mists, having thus gone half-way 'round the world; knowing with this that it was indeed a globe in shape, for I had learned from the people of the eastern coasts of Weyilendeh that there were was a great wall of white mists marking the edge of the Eastern Ocean, and into which none who had ventured in were known to have returned, at that time, although adventurers would later come thence from out of them, and at length return into them, as mentioned later in this tome.

Strange things I discovered in the mists, and later determined that they change the time of those who enter them.  But the merciful Gods favored me in this task, and so I came through them unscathed, and came to an inner sea and then another continent.  This was a land called by the Elves the Hidden Continent, whence they had been told by the Gods that it had been enclosed within the Mists in the former days of the Elves, who had beforehand often visited it, when is was know as the Garden of the Gods.  But upon that island continent had been placed the most dangerous of all monsters, after the Last War of the Gods, and the forming of the magical mists, to keep those monsters from troubling the Elves and Dwarves and Men; the Children of Eiowaeh.  And there indeed did I encounter many a winged monster; Demons and Devils, Dragons and Drakes, and also other creatures that had the magic of flight, though not winged.  And often must I fight them to remain alive, at times barely escaping.  And I beheld beneath me a great land filled with the most dire of creatures and beasts and creeping things.

Yet, at length I flew south, over yet more water, and discovered there a wide island in the midst of lesser ones, and which were free of monsters, but upon which I found only the ruins of some long lost city whose mighty stone towers and castles and houses had tumbled in some tremendous cataclysm.  And this I realized was the ancient home of the Gods themselves, in the days in which they walked in bodily form upon the face of the world.  But after their war with the UnderLords, whom they defeated and then cast into the Outer Voids, the Gods removed themselves from the world whence bringing all of the most deadly monsters to the Hidden Continent, and erected about it what we call the Enchanted Mists, to keep them from escaping.

Yet, as told by the Elves, the Gods of Old shall never again take on the forms which once they donned, and remain invisible to all life in Esaereh, though they are not unmindful of it, and at times work to the benefit of those whom they choose.  Why they did not destroy all monsters in those days, and allowed evil even to come about, is not known.  But who are we to question them

Then did I brave the Mists once more, heading west, and came through them to emerge into the Great Eastern Ocean, and discovered in the north of those waters that continent which would become known as Wilderland, but also Dolgondil, and which held no monsters but was filled utterly with all manner of beasts.  Yet, I explored it little, and came at last to the eastern coasts of Weyilendeh, and from there the Valley of Nieosc, and my home, where I settled down and began working as a smith; forging weapons and tools for my people.  And there, after some years, the mighty leader Andar came to me, asking for a sword of special make and magical, which I gladly made for him.  Thus, with that sword, the first of the Palaklar, and with my aid Andar freed all of our lands of Durwolc, and of all other monsters, and established that kingdom of Men later named Andaria.

The Adventures of Brandar Odaron

Book 1:  The Hidden Continent

Chapter 4      The Emissaries 

When Odar the Old was declared Honorary King of the exiled Northrons, only the Andarians called him a king, for the Northrons knew him as the Chief of the Dunjilar Tribe, and later as High Chieftain of all Three Tribes.  But these titles the sons of Odar retained through the years, while the Andarians came to call all of the Northrons the Dunjularians.  Thus, as time would have it, the High Chieftain gained authority by tradition over the other two Chieftains, and that is how Brandar had full power, much as an errant king, to choose any Northron he may wish to go with him on his mission to the East, although it was not his way to order men against their will.  Rather, he desired no man under his command who did not freely choose to be there.  And when Brandar was given leave to go east, he exercised his authority and declared that his mission must involve no full-blood Andarians, for he deemed that none but Northrons would follow him to what may well mean their deaths.  But he also wanted to repay the Realm of Andaria for safeguarding the Remnant of Odar’s day.  And while King Tarl suggested to Brandar that Andarians should go, Brandar insisted that the task belonged only to the Northrons.  Thus was it done.  And so did the Seven come to be.

Brandar’s plan to go east was kept secret from the people of both Northron and Andarian heritage, where only officers of highest rank were used to assist the Seven in training for the task.  But those officers were not given the plan, being told only that the Seven had asked to be exceptionally instructed to initiate surprises upon the enemy, and that the training must be done in secret to keep it from being discovered by the spies of MorLome roaming the streets of the City.  And that was enough for them.

Six Northrons fighters Brandar chose out of all who would have gone with him.  And two were those same cousins from his own tribe who had taken part in the slaying of the dragon Bitlawen.  But others he chose from his many friends and instructors, though only two each from the other two Tribes.  Most were older than Brandar, but one was nigh as young as he.  Yet, all were honored to be chosen, and took Brandar as their leader, for he had proven himself many times on the Westmarch.

Brandar’s cousins were named Alak and Daram.  And these were Warriors of high rank, with many years of experience on the Marches.  But from the Bankari were stout men named Erek and Khalen, while from the Forchakar were hardy men named Rosth and Tomas.  And these Six Volunteers proved loyal to Brandar in all their years of adventuring together.  But each of them later became the focus of their own Tells, for they were to become the mightiest of heroes, and accomplished much good.

Alak Bakhas had been a Hero of the Westmarch, and became an High Captain in the Royal Army at Romin after the demise of Bitlawan, and had seen so much battle as a Wielder that Brandar made him his Second.  And as with all of the Dunjilar, he was tall, fair of skin, golden haired, and handsome of face.  Thirty-six years of age when Brandar chose him, he let his hair grow long, but his beard he kept shorn.

Daram Staendor had been newly-appointed as a Royal Guard after Bitlawan’s fall, having been a Sergeant in the Westmarch, and was then posted at the King’s Castle in Romin.  So, Brandar made him third in command of his troupe, which he decided to call “Emissaries”.  And Daram had the same build and look as his cousins, though he was not as handsome.  At forty-two years, he was one of the older Emissaries, yet remained quite vigorous, and kept his hair and beard well-trimmed.

Erek Laiklond was a Prince of the Bankari, and a Wielder by long tradition of his tribe, though he had won renown by becoming a Hero by his own hand with the Westmarch Rangers soon after being appointed a Wielder.  And Brandar made him fourth.  He was but one year older than Brandar, freckled of skin and red of hair, as were all the folk of his tribe, but he was as tall as Brandar, was clean shaven, but kept long braided hair.

Khalen Barastir, also Bankari, was not as tall as Erek, but was as tall or more so than any of the other Volunteers.  The eldest of the Seven Emissaries, at fifty-three years, he served as Master-At-Arms in the Army of the Southmarch, but was then Head Master of recruits for the Rangers of the Westmarch.  And because he was such a good fighter, and one of Brander’s teachers, Brandar chose him, but must place him fifth.  Yet, due to his age, the other Emissaries, even Brandar, paid him great honor; for all Northrons revere their elders.  With freckled skin and a bald scalp, he had a bushy red beard, though streaked with gray.  And due to his age, baldness, and graying beard, the others called him “Old Man”.  Yet, only Brandar could best him in fighting skill.

Rosth Perestha was a Forchakar Warrior of renown, then serving as a First Lieutenant in the Cavalry at Romin, although he had gained most of his experience in the Southmarch.  And Brandar made him sixth in command of the Emissaries.  Fair of skin, with short dark hair, and the least in height, he kept his beard close-cropped.

Tomas Loksom, also of the Forchakar Tribe, was another Hero of the Westmarch.  A Scout, and a mighty hunter, he had become Second Marshall in the Army at Romin, and Brandar chose him as the sixth Volunteer, though he was not the least in fighting skills, and later came to the fore, due to exhibiting great wisdom.  Only slightly taller than Rosth, he had long brown hair, tanned skin, and preferred to be shaven.

As for Brandar, he was the tallest of the Emissaries, and indeed among the tallest of all Dunjilarians.  And he was very strong, swift, and agile, and was thrice hailed in the Andarian Games as the best fighter in the land.  With long blonde hair and a very handsome face, he was a favorite of the maidens, and also kept himself shaven.

Now, while Brandar must make assignments of rank as a matter of course, none of the Volunteers viewed their positions as truly implying status, for they were all among the best Warriors of Andaria, and were friends, with much respect for one another.  And they soon kenned that Brandar himself viewed them all as his peers, and not so ranked.  But each of them would also later command great armies of their own.  What is more, as I was imbuing their Gems with magic, I studied these men, and gave to them what powers it seemed was best suited to their nature.

Here are the powers bestowed to the Seven by virtue of their magical necklaces, which they named “The Wizard’s Gifts”, and the gems they called “The Wizard’s Gems”.  But the Tells which grew up around the Emissaries after their return mentioned often their use of those magicks, so that later Tells called the necklaces the “Seven’s Magic Necklaces”, or the “Emissaries’ Necklaces”, while the jewels were called “The Gemstones of the Emissaries”, and also “The Gems of the Seven”, and so on.

Each necklace had the same kind of fine silver chain, with no hasp, but was affixed with a different precious gem.  And the necklaces could not be destroyed, either chain or gem, and the magicks could not be thwarted but by a God, though their forces of active magic could be depleted with prolonged and constant usage.  All of this, of course, I had explained to the Seven, while teaching them the words for activating the given powers.  So also did I inform them that each gem held the powers of its sisters, as long as they all remained within so many paces from each other.  Nevetheless, later Tells would identify each of the Seven with the gemstone attached to his own particular necklace.  And that is how I now describe them now.

Brandar was given a silvery pearl, which gave to him the strength of a Giant, by which he may leap like a locust, or uproot trees and toss them far and wide.  And Alak was given a clear diamond that gave to him long far-sightedness, and the ability to see through smoke and fog, and through the darkness of a moonless night, or through the blackness of the deepest caverns ‘neath the tallest of mountains.  But Daram was given a bright red ruby, that allowed him to shoot great blasts of fire from his mouth, by which he may turn to ashes all wood, and melt even the hardest of metals.  Erek was given a green emerald, giving to him healing powers, with which he may rapidly heal any wound to himself or to anyone upon which he lay his hand and spoke the proper word.  Khalen was given a violet amethyst, which imparts great speed, superior dexterity, and long endurance, so that ever might he dodge an arrow or spear, or anything else thrown at him, as the mongoose evades the fangs of the cobra.  And Rosth was given a yellow opal, which allowed him to shoot from his eyes deadly beams of sunlight, which no demon of the UnderRealm can withstand.  But  Tomas was given a blue jade, which let him cast bolts of deadly lightning from an outstretched fingertip.  And this power would later become that most used by all of the Emissaries when they were fighting side-by-side.

Again, the powers inherent to each gem were selected to match some natural aspect of its owner.  Thus, Brandar received the Pearl of Giant-Strength because he was already quite strong.  Alak had the Diamond, as he was keen-eyed, and Daram was given the Ruby, for he possessed a fiery spirit.  Erek was given the Emerald, as it seemed to me that he was in need of being healed of a superior opinion of himself.  But Khalen owns the Amethyst, as I noted that he was naturally quick, while Rosth holds the Opal, due to his piety.  And lastly, Tomas was given the Jade, for he was ever the most calm in mood, but could strike at need as suddenly as a thunderclap.  Thus, given those magicks, and their disguises, the Seven were made ready for their journey.  And by those magicks did they succeed in surviving what would otherwise have certainly meant their doom.

Other magical items, and mighty weapons, I could have given to the Emissaries, and perhaps I should have.  Yet, at the time I feared that the magic of so many magical possessions may reveal the Seven to the enemy too soon, and so would they likely have been caught and killed despite their magicks; as there were many powerful Mages among the enemy in those days.  And I had my hands full fighting against them.  Thus did I provide disguises for the Seven, and gave them the necklaces, which I devised to be undetectable as long as they remained inactive.  So it was that the Emissaries were made ready.

The Adventures of Brandar Odaron

Book 1:  The Hidden Continent

Chapter 5      Through The Ranks Of The Enemy

I, Maneldor, now relate the Tell of the passage of the Seven Northron Emissaries through the ranks of the enemy eastwards during the Third Invasion, having consulted with Brandar and his Six Volunteers after their glorious return to Andaria in the Fourth Invasion.  Barely did the Emissaries complete that first journey, but survive they did, by the success of the disguises I had worked upon them, and the magic of their necklaces.

The grove of trees from which the Seven emerged was not as dense as Brandar would have liked, and many trees in it had been hewn down in no predictable order, while everywhere were whole trees burnt and charred.  Neither were there any birds nor animals to be seen in the dark, though Brandar kenned there would be none alive, whereas the night was made darker than normal by smokes from fires of the enemy’s encampments all around.  And after moving cautiously through the trees, Brandar halted at the edge of the grove to spy upon the enemy from the shadows.

Here the Northrons beheld rank upon rank of Durwolc wrecking havoc upon the land, reveling about their fires, or tramping along in marching companies.  But enemy groups were separated by kind, with Gnoll apart form Yurchin, apart from Gobba, apart from Kobo, and so on.  And everywhere there was brawling and argument, and in some places bloodshed.  So the Durwolc seemed altogether busy with their quarrels, but for a seemingly endless procession of troupes trudging by, also by kind.

A company of Gnoll were marching loosely by the grove, heading northwest, led by their tallest member, who alone wore armor in the form of a chain-mail shirt.  But each of them was armed with a thin curved sword tucked in a belt, though some carried spears or pole-arms.  And after they had passed, Brandar spoke to his men in the tongue of the enemy, saying:  “That is how we must march, as a troupe on assignment.  And we must leave these trees at an angle, as if we have just come ‘round them.”  “Yes,” said Alak, in the same course language, “and with our heads bent low.”  “But with a hand to sword-hilt,” said Daram.  “As those louts do not.”  “Yes,” said Brandar.  “Let us go, as the Wizard has instructed us.”  So did Brandar lead his Volunteers from the grove, hoping the Seven would seem merely to be errand-runners who have just come to the area and were passing the grove upon its eastern edge.  And by fate or fortune the trick worked, for the Seven were not then challenged, though they attracted many a curious stare.

The remaining night was very short-lived; turning itself into a grueling day, filled with choking dust and blinding smokes, and an incredibly horrible stench so revolting that it made all of the Seven positively ill.  And Brandar found himself weaving through and around throngs of Durwolc, while avoiding encounters by adjusting course upon any hint of a meeting of ways.  Thus, in this manner the Seven went far afield that day, becoming ever more alarmed at the number of the enemy so tightly packed upon all open spaces; trampling and defiling the land, and burning every bit of wood, and every loose bone to be had, and cooking body parts, which appeared plentiful.  Everywhere was there fire and flame, and piles of rotting dead of both Men and Durwolc mixed together.  But worse in the sight of the Seven were Durwolc feeding upon the dead, even of their own kind, so that Brandar must halt at whiles as one or another of his men would fall out to vomit from distress.  And due to the fires, the Northrons realized that Andaria was being burned, bit by bit.  Soon would there be nothing but suit and ash, and that dreadful stench.

At length they came to the Cliffs East and began to climb upon one of its many passes, but had little trouble from the Durwolc coming down now and again in groups, which they let continue without a word, standing aside, grateful for a bit of rest.  Then they emerged to find that the enemy's encampments were more numerous thereabouts than they had been in the valley below. 

Brandar remembered me saying:  “The enemy holds the field about the Valley, but how far east they stretch is not now known.  It is hoped that Ferer’s Mote is intact, but we are not sure of it.  And the Dwarf Realms north are likely also under siege, though they are no doubt safe in their lofty mountain holds.  So, they shall not be able to send aid in such straights, though they had fighters to spare, and a way to get them through.  No, it is east that our hope lies, with the Dwarves of Anauria.  Most surely they are not under a campaign so intense.  Not yet.  The vile Sorcerer MorLome must first conquer Andaria ere assailing Bereth Longhand.  For that Lord, wielding Ankiramarth, is much too strong, without the sorcerer sending all his might against that realm.”  This reminded Brandar to turn east, so he guided his men along a wide arc, only to find that the enemy’s numbers increased.

The Emissaries came near to exhaustion as the dim afternoon wore on, and they found no relief from the smell, nor could they find a clear space upon which to rest.  Then they happened upon the road to Kimar, recognized only by a long line of mounted Men, Westrons, in dark garb, riding two-by-two while using pole-arms to keep the spiteful Durwolc at bay.  And one stuck Daram with a pike, though it hurt him not for the thickness of his disguise, that of a Gress, as Brandar and Alak were also disguised.

Here, Brandar halted briefly, letting the riders pass, then led the Six to a small place between two wide camps of Wargren and Buccarin, with a large encampment of Gress to the north and another of Trollo to the east, just across the road.

Made curious by the sudden presence of the Seven, one of the Wargren gathered a pack of his followers and came to have words with the newcomers.  And he spoke in growling tones to the disguised Northrons.  “Greetings, Warriors!  All praise to MorLome.  I am Scathal, Regent of Section Twelve, upon which you stand.  Who of you, may I ask, commands here, and what are your orders?”  Recalling my advice, the Six Volunteers remained silent as Brandar spoke, saying gruffly:  “I am Brar, and my orders are of no concern to you, dogerell.  Know that I have been tasked by the Emporer himself, and shall rest here for a while, no thanks to you.  Be off with you, back to your pups, and trouble us not, or I shall report you to your keeper.”  Then Brandar flashed the small badge of authority that I had given him, at which the Wargren leader backed away in surprise, while some in his pack were angered by Brandar’s insults.  But their leader said:  “You are in command of this band?  What task is this of which you speak?  My Commander has not spoken of you this day.  Tell me your orders.”  “That is none of your business, mutthound!” said Brandar, haughtily.  But his tone and insults angered the pack so much that some drew their swords, at which the Six drew theirs.  And it seemed that battle was about to be joined.

“Brave words you speak,” said Scathal, “being so outnumbered.  I am Regent here, but have heard nothing of your coming.  What is your …”  “Neither shall you ever hear again,” interrupted Brandar, drawing his own sword.  “Begone, I say!” Brandar shouted.  “Or take us, if you can.  We fear not your kind.”  

Now the rest of the pack drew their swords and would advance upon the Northrons, but their leader raised his paw, saying:  “Stay your wrath, High One.”  And he signed for his pack to hold back.  “For so I take you, by the badge you have shown.  We will not fight you.  Yet, I will discuss this with my Commander, who is of the Gressin, as are you.  Then we shall see who gets the lash.”

With that, Scathal turned and literally barked orders to his fellows.  And they angrily turned about.  So it was that the Wargren pack returned to their fires and troubled not the Seven again, which gave the Emissaries time to rest and take food.  Yet, Brandar soon led them away, having decided against crossing the road; going to where the enemy seemed to thin out northeast.  And this is how the Seven found the remains of Kimar, once a thriving trade center, now a dark and blackened desolation, full of ash and cold cinders.  Then the Northrons, rounding the edge of the ruin, came upon a horrible mound of long-rotted skeletons, and bones of arms and legs and skulls strewn about; of men and women, and children.  And there were more skeletons of Andarian dead impaled upon thick spears stuck into the ground all across the land north and east.  And this was such an appalling sight that all seven grew sick, where Erek vomited uncontrollably.  And it was difficult for them to regain their composure.

Now, the Six became so enraged at this scene that they seethed with anger, and some drew forth with a mind to assail the nearest Durwolc.  But Brandar spurred them forward, eastward, to thwart such action.  And thus, due to their rage, they made right good progress ere night had come; nigh forgetting their weariness until the darkness had fallen.

So it was that the Seven passed the Woodlands and the Downs, then came to the Near Hills, where they found a good place to rest.  And while the enemy remained all around, they sat down too weary to care, though they were not approached.  Yet, so warn out were they then that they lay themselves down and went to sleep, and did not wake until dawn, where Brandar leaped up and roused them to go, and thus did they march, but with more fatigue than ever they had known.

It happens that the enemy’s numbers grew less as the Seven went east along the side of the road from Kimar, often with mounted Westrons riding by, always also heading east.  Then, after a day of trudging, the Seven crossed the road at the ruins of Suvai, which was not merely burnt, but utterly destroyed.  And here was yet another huge pile of long-dead victims upon whose bones and scraps of rotting clothing were pecking vultures, and large rodents gnawing the bones, and other scavenging vermin.  And here too were the skeletal remains of Andarians impaled upon spears.

Now, when this mound came into sight, Erek, disguised as a Kobo, drew his sword with a weeping cry, and would attack the creatures feeding there.  But Brandar barred his way, speaking in the enemy’s tongue.  “Hold, you lout!  We are but Gress and Kobo on a task for our masters.  Let us go east over these fields, and cross the river, so that we may complete our mission.”  But Erek’s eyes grew livid at the sound of those words.  So Brandar spoke softly in the ancient tongue which only the Northrons still know.  “Foolish would it be now, my friend, to go ravening for the plight of the dead.”  Then Erek’s mind cleared, and he sheathed his sword, though the anger inside would not easily leave him be.  “Let us go,” said Brandar, reverting back to the enemy’s tongue.  “Delay is a tool for our foes.”  Then he led the Six due east; seeming to all who looked their way but three tall Gress, the Dunjilar cousins, with four stout Kobo guards, the Bankari and Forchakar warriors.  But Erek’s rage was slow to abate, and came through even his disguise, so that he appeared very much as a crazed Kobo fighter.  And that was good for the Seven, as it caused many a Durwolc to avoid the Seven whenever any came close enough for them to discern the disguised Erek’s demeanor.

Thus, the Emissaries passed unhindered across once fruitful fields and noticed that the enemy’s numbers were at last beginning to dwindle.  Later they beheld at some distance ahead, upon the road to Miran, a line of wagons drawn by oxen going north and steered by Westron Men in the same garb as the riders on the road.  So Brandar turned slightly, to cross the road far ahead of the lead wagon.  Then the Seven went untroubled, rested that night, and at dusk of the next day arrived at the River Theweg.

Here they found the river filled as far as they could see with countless bones and decaying bodies of Men and Durwolc, and livestock, while it was also apparent that the enemy were dumping here their bodily waste.  Furthermore, along both of its banks skittered rodents and enormous reptiles, and countless unnamable creatures feasting upon the carcasses.  And the foul air was thick with dark swarms of stinging insects.  Hence, Brandar turned northwest, and led the Six a distance from the river, to a place where they could make a night’s camp from which they may set out early on the morn in search of a fording-place from which to continue east, and then seek for the road from the village of Crossroad; though they expected it no longer to exist.  Years and bitter had the Long Siege been, and the Seven kenned indeed that Andaria was soon to fall.

With the sunrise, the Seven headed north along a path with the river to their right, but not far upon this route, Alak stopped them with a shout.  And pointing ahead, he said:  “Look, upstream.  A very large warrior, with a great following afoot.”  “Yes,” said Brandar.  “Very tall he is.  A Giant, do you think?”  “A Giant it is,” said Alak, fearfully.  “What shall we do?”  “It must be a river patrol,” said Brandar, “coming this way.  Could we swim to the other side before they reach us?  Surely they would not cross to come after us.”  “Nay, Lord,” said Daram.  “The river is too far, and too wide.  We would wear ourselves out in swimming it, what with these heavy disguises.  Then the enemy might shoot us with arrows, or capture us as we founder back to shore.”  “Or we may be eaten by those snaggle-toothed lizards,” said Khalen.  “And I dread to think of the filth in the water,” said Erek.  “We may die of some plague should we as much as touch it!”  “Agreed,” said Brandar.  “But where do we go?  The Giant must be seeing us.  Quick, my fellows.  What say you?  I am at a quandary here.  So much for your Leader.”  “Let us curve about,” said Tomas, “and travel northwest, out of their way.  They could not have marked our true course at this distance.”  “Very well,” said Brandar.  “But we must run, the better to get past.  And pray they do not turn aside and come upon us in the open.”

Unfortunately, their prayers were not answered.  And ere the Seven had gone even due west of the enemy patrol the Giant took to running out with a small band of Trollo to meet with the disguised Northrons.  Six of his following he brought with him, of a breed called Hdutarin, who are tall and strong of limb, bred to endure daylight, and able to run long and swiftly.  And the Northrons could see that the rest of the Giant’s company turned also to follow their leader, though at a slower pace.  Thus, there was no escape, and little chance that the creatures were coming to have a nice little chat.

The Northrons halted and awaited the coming of the Giant.

As with most days of the Long Siege, the sky was darkly overcast, and the air thick with smoke.  Therefore, the waning daylight was not bright and warm, but cold and gloomy.  And in that grey light the Northrons stood, growing ever more fearful at the lumbering approach of the Giant, so daunting his height, so frightful his appearance.

“Hold!” called the Giant, striding up to the Seven, though the Men waited still as stone.  “Who goes there?” the large monster bellowed, coming to tower over Brandar, who stood to the fore while the Trollo band arrived close behind their master.

More than twenty feet high stood the Giant, and his Trollo at least twelve feet.  And they were all fanged of tooth, scaly of hide, and long-clawed.  But, as the Giant was somewhat more man-shaped, his thick lumpy skin was a sickly brown in color, with the Trollo a dark sort of green.  And they all held large spiked war-clubs.  “I am Gar, of the Otog,” said the Giant, loudly.  “I am Lord of the Riverland.  Who are you?  And why are you here?”  But Brandar was at the moment at a loss for words.  “Come now,” said Gar, somewhat less loudly, believing the disguises, “a strange sort you are, by the looks.  A gaggle of weakling Udtyr and puny Hduta.  Speak, sluggards!  What are you up to, running out here on your own?”  And by this, Gar had unwittingly revealed that he suspected the Seven of being deserters.

“My Lord’s pardon,” said Brandar, as loudly as he dared.  “I am Brar of the Autho, and these fighters are my guards.  We are on an urgent errand for the High Ones of the Front.  You must allow us to pass unhindered.”  Then Brandar showed forth his badge, and tried his best to look important. 

The Giant seemed puzzled by the badge, but was not cowed.  And he adjusted his grip on his club.  But the Trollo went wide-eyed upon seeing the badge, and stood slightly back, for the badge was that of a Gress Captain who had served as the Herald of a powerful Trollo Mage, whom they had seen once before.

“That trinket means nothing if it is stolen!” trumpeted the Giant, raising his club a bit higher.  “Speak, now.  What is your errand?  Speak or perish.”  Then Gar leaned menacingly over Brandar, but did not seem ready to strike for no reason.  “Wise is my Lord to be suspicious of strangers,” said Brandar.  “And I will speak of it to my Master, once my errand is done.  But wiser still would it be for you to let us pass, for we are stronger than we look.  And you may be surprised at what we can do.”  Then Gar and his Trollo gave out long evil laughs, since the disguised Northrons did not seem threatening at all, and the monsters thought that Brandar had made jest.  “You do not look strong to me,” said Gar, amidst his mirth.  “Come now, scum wart.  Tell me your orders, afore I squash you like a bug.”  “I could tell you, High One,” said Brandar.  “But that would bring down the wrath of both our Masters, and maybe the Emporor himself.  Rather, let us prove who we are by proving we can do what we say.  I challenge you to wrestle for passage!  You and I together.  And if I win, you must let us go freely upon our errand.  But if I lose, why then I shall tell you all about our secret mission, and you can decide for yourself what is to be done.  What do you say?  Will you wrestle for our passage?”

Gar and his Trollo had an even better laugh at that.  “Wrestle?” said he.  “You and me together?  Why, the least of my slaves could have you for breakfast.”  And all the Trollo laughed that much harder.  “Besides, why should I believe you?  I think you are a liar and a deserter.  Why should I believe you at all?”  “To save yourself the Emporor’s displeasure, Lord Otog,” said Brandar.  “But if you do not believe me in any wise, then still, I challenge you for passage.  What do you say?  Or are you afraid that I will win?”

Well, that was more than Gar could stand, and it stopped the laughter cold.  And he eyed Brandar evilly, suddenly angered to be insulted in the presence of his followers.  “That does it,” said Gar, throwing his club into the dirt so that it stuck upright by means of its long spikes.  And he leapt upon Brandar with a howl, fully intending to crush the disguised Northron and trample him to a bloody pulp.  But Brandar was, by nature, very quick, and easily dodged the lunge, which gave him just the space he needed to speak the word to activate the magic of his pearl hidden beneath his tunic.  Then he wrestled with the Giant in truth; finding that the strength imparted to him by my gift made him much stronger than Gar the Otog.  Yet, he knew as well that using his magic might give him away to Mages or other enemies thereabouts.  And so, therefore, did the Volunteers activate their own necklaces.

Gar was very surprised at Brandar’s strength, and quickly guessed that it was magical.  Then he fought tooth and nail until, at last, Brandar climbed up and took Gar by the neck and choked him into a swoon.

Of course, the Giant’s guards were amazed at this feat.  And they pulled back, readying their clubs when the disguised Volunteers raised their swords and shouted in triumph.  But this, Brandar stood between the two groups, saying:  “Fear not, great Hdutar!  Your leader is not dead, but merely sleeps.  Look!  Even now he stirs himself awake.”  Verily, the Giant was rising.  And the Trollo stood by, dazed and confused, believing Brar to be a very great fighter, despite his stature.  But Gar roused himself, and went to stand by his guards, trying desperately to regain his senses.

Then Brandar stood before him once more, saying:  “Now will you not yield the passage?  I have won our contest.  You must honor our bargain.”  But the humiliated Giant had pride to match his size.  Never before had he been defeated by so small a foe.  What is more, he must have suddenly remembered that another Autho once bore the badge which Brandar had showed him so boldly.

“Kill them!”  shouted Gar, leaping to grab up his war-club.  “Kill them all!”  And immediately was battle joined, where Brandar's Volunteers fought with one each of the Trollo, as Brandar went after the Giant as before.  And clutching the monster’s garment, Brand again climbed upon Gar, clamping his arms about the beast’s neck once more.   Yet, ere he could be choked a second time, Gar began swinging his club so as to hit Brandar with it, and swung it repeatedly.  But Brandar was too fast for the lumbering Giant, and deftly dodged the strikes, whereas Gar managed only to wound himself many times; once so gravely that it sent him to his knees.  With that, Brandar grabbed the creature by the ears and twisted the giant's head around so hard that Gar’s neck was broken with a loud snap, and so he fell over with deep thud, dead upon the ground, as Brandar leapt deftly off, landing spryly upon his feet.

Naturally, since Brandar had activated his magic, the Volunteers knew that death was near, so they had activated their own while the Trollo guards were busy watching the wrestling match.  And when all was done, the Six stood alive over their foes, who had no chance against such power.

“Now we have done it!” said Brandar, standing by the dead Giant.  “The enemy may have sensed our magic and shall send someone to seek us out.  Cancel the magic of your necklaces.  And take up the badges of this lot.”  And so was it done.  “We must fly from this place, swiftly, ere the Giant’s company reaches us.  Come!  Let us go.”  Then Brandar led the Six south as fast as ever any of them had run before.

The Adventures of Brandar Odaron

Book 1:  The Hidden Continent

Chapter 6      Crossing The River

When night was come, the Seven could no longer see how far behind were the pursuing company of Thralls, but Brandar refused to let any of the Six activate the magic of far-sightedness.  And he continued south until coming upon the deserted road that ran west from the Third Ford of Theweg, meaning the Ford was due east from where they stepped wearily from a sparse wood through which they had just tramped.  Then the Seven took to the road, but so weary had they become that they soon slowed to a crawl, and Brandar ordered that Erek must use his healing upon himself, but only he, and to renew the rest of them by placing his hand upon them, in turn, and speaking the proper word, to keep them all going.   And that was done, and the magic canceled, at which they took food from their packs, but continued upon the road while eating, barely able to see in the darkness, so dim were the cloud-covered Moons. 

As morning light began to cast weak shadows upon the road, while Brandar led the Six at a steady but unhurried pace, the sound of an enemy encampment came to be heard from a distance ahead, but where enemies could not be seen through the trees, for there was a long curve in the road.  And this brought them to a halt, though the road itself remained empty in either direction but for the Seven themselves, standing where the road began to curve to the left.  But as they listened, they heard also running water. “That will be the fording place,” said Tomas, in the Andarian tongue.  “Heavily guarded, no doubt,” said Rosth, “by the sound of it.”  “And with no other way across,” said Khalen.  “Not for a hundred leagues, north or south,” said Alak.  “Unless we brave the currents,” said Daram.  “Aye, likely in putrid waters,” said Erek, in disgust. “Enough!” said Brandar.  “Heal yourselves, and activate all of your necklaces.  This ford is our only chance at freedom, for the enemy ahead has likely not heard of our coming, and we have yet these filthy disguises.  We march to the fording as if nothing is wrong, and bluff our way through.  Hold forth the stolen badges, and follow me just as we have seen enemy patrols follow their leaders.  We shall take the crossing by force, if needs be.  But do not draw, nor attack with magic, unless I shout the command.

“Perhaps here, at last, is the end of the ranks of the enemy through which we must pass, though I foretell that we shall be pursued to the very threshold of the Dwarf Realm, once we have crossed the river, for enemy Mages, or magical creatures, will have kenned our magicks, and mayhap also surmised our purpose."  Here Brandar paused, looking around, then said:  “Keep a hand to your swords, but do not strike without need.  Let us go.”  Good advice, but Brandar would himself not heed it, as shall be seen.

Half expecting, half wishing, to encounter some resistance at the ford, what the Seven found was more daunting than they could have imagined, for here were throng upon throng of Gress, led by Great-Ones of their kind, upon both sides of the road to nearly two furlongs from the ford.  Thus must the Seven pass all the way through them to make for the place of fording.  But that they did, shouting for the Gress loitering upon the road to clear the way, where Brandar must shove some of the more defiant aside.  And as the Seven went so far a distance in this manner, there arose a clamor, so that a crowd of the Gress began to follow the newcomers, likely out of mere curiosity.  Yet, this had the effect of causing ever more Gress to get out of the way of the Seven as they strode down the road.  So did they come to the ford without undue hindrance.  But there they were halted, as the ford was guarded by two rows of twelve Gress each, well armed and heavily armored.  And these would not allow the Seven to cross unchallenged, disguised or no.  Then one Gress leader, very tall for his kind, who had been sitting off to the side, came to the Seven and demanded to know who they were, from whence they had come, and what were their orders.

Now, a strange mood took Brandar; brought on by the press of Gress gathering behind, and freedom so close to hand.  And forgetting his own orders, without so much as a word, drawing swiftly his sword and slashing in one stroke, he slew that creature, with the result that a battle was fought there so dire that the Emissaries would later be loath to speak of it, and would have erased it from their memories, if they could.

The Six surprised Volunteers, in the following days, never received a satisfying answer as to why Brandar had not attempted to talk his ways through.  But upon a much later time, he said to them:  “I beheld there the far bank, and an army of evil all around us, with another yet to arrive, and I did not think that we should have to fight so hard to make the crossing.  I am very sorry.  It was rather rash, I admit.”  Yet, little more would he reveal as to why he had neglected his very own words.  And he felt, but never said to them, though he confessed to me when I pressed him on it, as he was telling me his tale, that some mystic power had taken him; possessed him, for good or ill, he could not know.  And it was that entity, some great spirit, which had made him kill the Gress leader and plunge his men into battle.  Then that spirit remained with him for several days, but would never again come upon him so intently for the rest of his long life.

Even I had no answers for him, lest it was my memory, where I said that the Elves speak of a god, an Enon named Ehpion, the God of Action, who imparts swiftness to those who defend good against evil.  Perhaps it was he who had urged Brandar’s strike that day.  But I know this not with all certainty.

All of the Emissaries used the lightening of the Jade, and the strength of the Pearl, and the healing of Erek’s Emerald upon their wounds as they fought; and also the plain Andarian steel of their swords.  So they cut down the guards and made to cross the wide river, but the whole of the enemy was roused against them, and they must turn in midstream to fend off attacks from behind.  Then was it only by the chain-mail armor hidden beneath their disguises that they were saved from arrows and spears, and sword thrusts, and axe-blows  --  for so great was the press of foes that they took many a wound ere they could heal themselves rightly.  And thus were their arms and legs, and their scalps and ears all gravely hurt.  And it was only by the powers of the necklaces that I gave them that they were able to stand so mightily in that river, knee-deep in blood-red water, with many of the enemy’s dead floating away down the river.

It came about, therefore, when the Seven had slain more than a hundred times their number, that the Gress stayed their assault.  Then yet another of their leaders came warily forth to speak with the Northrons, who took the respite to hurriedly use the magic of the Emerald to heal themselves.

This one was an Autho, as were disguised the three Dunjilar cousins, although the beast was even larger for his kind than the one Brandar had felled without a word.  Thus did the Seven ken that here was the highest ranking Great-One among the enemy there.  And despite his brutish look, he was rather more smooth-tongued than expected. 

“Who are you?” asked this Gress, as kindly as you please, holding out his hands.  “Tell me, brothers, what all this fighting is about?  Why is it that you must cross this river at such cost?  Why would you slay so many?”  “We are to go east,” said Brandar, hotly, in the enemy’s tongue.  “Hinder us more and we shall smite you.  Begone!  Or you shall be slain as the rest.”  “To the east?” said the Autho, in wonder.  “Then what sort of errand are you on, to slay my warriors merely to go east?”  But of course, the Gress was likely not concerned with justice, as all such beasts are cruel in their hearts.  Rather, he may have been worried what his overlords would do to him when he could not explain how only seven renegades had slain so many and yet lived.  Were the Seven magical deserters, he must have been wondering by then.

“Come now, my brothers,” said he.  “I am the Guardian of this Crossing, and am charged with its defense.  But I had no word of you, nor of your coming to this sector.  Pray tell, what errand is this of which you speak, and fight so valiantly to complete?”  Here, however, Brandar could brook no more delay, as that fey spirit had not yet left him, and he yelled at the Gress:  “To escape from you, Thrall!”  At which he clove the Gress at an angle altogether in two with a great swing of his sword.  But with that, a horrible rage took him, so that he went about slaying all of the enemy he could reach, even chasing them onto the riverbank, heedless of his wounds or of how greatly he was outnumbered.  Thus were the Seven forced to fight that entire gathering, where the Volunteers formed a line in the water not a hundred paces from the western bank.  Yet, by the magicks of their necklaces they slew all who came near; healing themselves in the heat of battle so that they would not lay down from the uncounted blows and cuts, and stabbings and arrows.  And while the healing of Erek’s Emerald was always quick and sure, it did nothing to stave the agony from the infliction of a wound.  Indeed, the Northrons would later say that it was the memory of all that pain which kept them from speaking freely of that crossing until many long years afterwards.

At length, with Brandar in the lead, the Seven fought back those Gress, often stepping over heaps of fallen foes to get at living opponents.  And there the Volunteers must have slain two-hundred and fifty apiece, but Brandar thrice that, ere all of the remaining Gress withdrew; leaving the Seven, at last, to cross the river in peace.

This therefore is how the Emissaries won the crossing of the Theweg, upon the sunset of their fourth night on the task that Brandar named The Quest.  And so it was that they made it safely to the far bank, where they rested and healed themselves, and took some food, as the enemy watched from across the water, and daylight faded.

The Seven next made their way down the road from the Third Ford, which curved slightly southwards towards the Crossroads with the Great East Road that ran due east from the Fourth Ford.  And they trudged along solemnly in the dark, noting that the lands thereat did not seem to have been so ravaged by the enemy, though they kept a wary eye on the road behind them, sure that the Gress army would cross the river to come after them at least as soon as the Giant’s company had arrived at the Third Ford themselves and told the Gressin there of the death of Gar the Otog. 

Then Brandar ordered that the magicks of their necklaces must be extinguished, to keep enemy Mages from kenning their whereabouts.  But he knew that this may not greatly hinder the pursuit, for many Durwolc can track prey by scent alone.

No other enemies were seen on this side of the river.  So the Emissaries made it easily to the eves of the Woodlands East by noon of the next day.  Yet, they believed that the enemy must be following them swiftly, perhaps in very large numbers.  Thus must the Seven not tarry, but should seek the mountains east forthwith.  Then, with the falling of night, Brandar left the road and led his men east through the woods, seeing by moonlight, for the sky here was clear of all clouds and smoke.  And so did they travel on foot all night.  But with the rising of the Suns, they made a fireless camp on a low hill, having gone as far as they could manage without healing or food.

Here, the Seven did not realize that they were but two leagues north of the Great East Road.  But should they have fared better with that knowledge none can now say, for the road was then patrolled regularly by Westrons upon horseback. 

Brandar ordered that two must stand guard for one hour, while the others slept, and he took the first watch with Erek.  But so weary were the Northrons that they all fell asleep in just a little while; snoring loudly through that day and all the following night, and well into the light of the very next day, when Brandar woke suddenly, having dreamt of being chased by a great army of Gress and being caught by them!  Then he beheld just such a horde marching steadily towards him from the northwest.  But here it was yet another bright day, already full wrought, and he hurriedly roused the others; wrathful at himself for falling asleep.  Then did he guess that a spell of sleeping must have been laid upon the Seven, but from what source he could not guess.  And as to why he had emerged from the sleep just in time, he believed the Gods had sent to him that dream.

The Northrons barely escaped being caught there, and moved swiftly east through the trees.  But the way of the woods fooled Brandar, and he turned gradually south, so that the Seven stumbled in surprise upon the Great East Road that afternoon.  And here was a large company of Westron Horsemen, going west, and whose leader came to an abrupt halt only paces from where the disguised Northrons stepped so unexpectedly onto the road. 

Now, the cavalry leader did not order an attack, but sat confused; wondering what these Gress and Kobo were up to out of their territory.  Nevertheless, the Seven did not think of this, forgetting for a moment their disguises, and ran then headlong back into the woods from which they had come.

“Sieze them!” shouted the cavalry leader, thinking the Seven were deserters.  And twenty horsemen, the standard contingent for such an order, rode swiftly to chase the fleeing Northrons, glad for a little sport to break up the boredom of the road.

Naturally the Emissaries activated their gemstones as soon as returning to the woods, and ran as far and as fast as they could.  And while the riders in pursuit meant merely to capture them for questioning, the Northrons could not know that, as well, and so turned and slew the riders to a man.  Meanwhile, the cavalry leader merely sat with the rest of his company, making jokes while awaiting the return of his men.  And he believed the sound of fighting from the woods was that of the capturing of the deserters.    

The Adventures of Brandar Odaron

Book 1:  The Hidden Continent

Chapter 7      Reaching The Mountains

Of the twenty horsemen who went after the deserters, only seven returned, galloping behind many riderless horses, and shouting warnings of an attack from the north as they rode swiftly past the leader and his company.  And while the men who returned did not stop, and gave no explanation, but rode as if fleeing for their lives, the puzzled leader ordered his remaining horsemen to make a stand in the trees along the roadside.  Thus did the horsemen there begin to array themselves for battle until realizing that the returning riders were men whom none of them knew.  With that, it took their leader, a Captain, only a little while to go and find his dead and naked soldiers, and what appeared to be the very skins of the Gress and Kobo deserters.  Then did he realize that he had been duped, and that the ruse had allowed the Seven to ride far upon the road eastwards.  “After them!” bellowed the Captain.  “I want their heads on a pike!  After them!”

The Captain of the horsemen sent several detachments from his company in pursuit of the seven fleeing riders, one after another, though the Northrons, having donned the dead men’s garb, had escaped by riding swiftly away.  And at length, catching sight of the mountains on the horizon, Brandar led his Volunteers south then east into the foothills on the borders of the Eastmarch.  And while that was a place of ill omen, shunned by Andarians long ere invasions from the West had begun, and now by the invaders themselves, it was the Northron’s shortest route to the Dwarf Realm of Barador, so Brandar deemed the risk was worth taking.

At sundown, from a high crown of the hills, the Northrons beheld an army of Durwolc running over the grasslands to the far west.  Then Brandar said that he sensed eyes of evil-ones upon him.  Thus, he led the way at rash speed onto the hard and jagged feet of the mountains; getting lost among the tor and ravines and rock-strewn vales.  Yet, a dense fog moved up from the south, rolling swiftly over them; carried upon air so cold that it seemed an unnatural thing, where the Seven could see no farther than a few paces before them, and must ride much slower to keep the horses from stumbling.

Their stolen garments became soaking wet, making them wholly uncomfortable.  And the unearthly mist gave them chills which touched them to the very bone, clutching even at their hearts.  Then, after but a short while, the Seven lost all sense of direction.

Brandar called a halt and ordered that they take food.  And here he asked Alak to use the Diamond of Far-Seeing to find a proper path.  But when Alak had called forth the magic he suddenly reigned back his mount and drew his sword, shouting:  “Stay back!  What do you want?  Stay back!”  And he took to waving his sword at nothing but the mist.  Then all the horses began shying and rearing, and kicking, and huffing and snorting, as if seeing something dangerous in the fog.  “What is it?” asked Brandar, trying desparately to keep his own horse under control.  “See for yourself!” said Alak.  “Use the Gifts!”  And when the rest of them activated the magic sight they beheld a multitude of ghostly warriors on the hills all around.  Yet, the ghosts did not assail the Northrons, but stood silent, looking upon the Seven with no expressions on their faces.  Then Brandar ordered all the magic of the Gems to be activated, which seemed to disturb the ghosts, though they still did not appear to be bent on fighting.

The ghosts were clearly those of Men of fighting heritage, for they bore weapons, even the women and children, and had paint on their faces.  But their raiment was primitive, and none were armored, although some held round shields of wood painted in bright colors.  And nearest to the Seven was one who looked like the oldest ghost of all, leaning upon a long crooked staff, who stepped up to Brandar, gliding above the ground as he strode.  But when he had drawn to within an arm’s reach of Brandar’s horse, he stopped, and began speaking in an ancient tongue which the Seven, to their astonishment, found that they fully understood, though not the speech of the enemy.

“Good greetings, strangers,” said the old ghost.  “Welcome to our land.”  This ghost held himself in a stately manner, while his grey and thinning hair and his long grey beard blew gently in a breeze which the Northons could not feel.  And he spoke calmly to the Seven, saying:  “We are the People of Xalaria.  The Hill Folk, you would name us.  Be not afraid.  We shall do you no harm.”  Then the Seven felt as if they were familiar with this folk, for it came into their minds that here were people of their own ancient kin, long lost to time.  “We will not fight you,” said the old one.  “The magic upon your breasts prevents this, even if we wished it.”  But, of course, all the necklaces were hidden beneath the Northron’s stolen shirts.  “Yet, we know of your Quest, and are sworn to aid you in whatever way we may.  We also hold the kings of Andaria as our liege lords, by solemn pledge.  Therefore, we say that you are free to go among these hills, our homeland.  What is more, we shall assist you with this warning, which you would not have but for our coming to you, and which favor we do by the Gods command, for the goddess Kaereh, of the Anon, has offered to receive us into the Halls of Naekor should we give you these words.

“Behold!  Disguises shall no longer conceal you, nor any magic avail you, nor fate be kind, for MorLome has seen you, and sends mighty captains to find and slay you one and all.  And evil Mages are with them, who know verily where you go, even through this cloud, which they devised to hinder your escape.  Neither do they fear we spirits of the hills; we who this land have kept free of the Durwolc for three long Ages, until now.  

“Beware!  The Thralls of MorLome pursue you in great numbers.  And they shall not turn aside until you are felled.  Neither shall you escape without aid, as the Sorcerer of the West cannot allow you to enter into the East, for in that does he see defeat.  Hence has he bent all his power against you.  

“Flee to the mountains, and tarry here no longer.  Go on to the Dwarf Realm, where lies your hope.  Ride as swift as you may.  Look!  The enemy is already upon you.  Flee then to the mountains.  And may the Gods be with you.” 

With that, the old ghost pointed west while he and his people faded from view, despite the magic of Alak’s Diamond.  And in that direction, seeing far by that magic, even through the fog, the Seven beheld the armies of MorLome advancing across the hills to the north and the east.  Thus did they ken that they were about to be attacked.  And thus had the ghosts given them a timely warning.  So too had the Gods bestowed favor upon the Emissaries.

Brandar rode rather haplessly upon a tortured path through the hills, striking for the mountains visible due east, using the magic of the Diamond to see in the night and through the fog.  And as the wispy mists disappeared with the rising of the Suns, he then ordered the magicks of the Necklaces canceled.  

Then the Seven rode without rest for two more days, and the night between.  Yet, whether by the disorienting effects of the scattered hills, or enemy mages casting spells upon them, the Seven were again turned, and came to the mountains three leagues south of their intended mark.  Yet, if spells were there cast to lead them astray, the glamory was wholly misplaced, as the Seven were now close to a pass which would lead them to the heart of the Realm of Barador, though they knew it not, and thought not to seek for it just then.  Yet, of all the ways into the mountains, this was the most well guarded by the Dwarves.  And that was rather fortunate indeed, as shall be seen. 

Suddenly, Khalen’s horse collapsed from exhaustion, as the Seven descended another rocky slope.  And Khalen was thrown so hard that he tumbled a good distance down the hillside.  Then some of the Volunteers chuckled at Khalen’s cursing, but here Brandar gently rebuked them and then called a halt so that Khalen could gather himself.  But all of their horses now sat themselves down and would not rise again, though the men kicked them and even whipped them, and pulled angrily at their reigns.  What is more, the healing of the Emerald would not work its magic to restore vigor to the animals.

“That is enough for the horses,” said Brandar.  “Let them go free.  They served us well, and do not deserve an unkind death at our hands.”  So, the Seven removed the saddles and the padding and bridles from the stolen horses, turning them loose, and took up their own packs once more.  But instead of going their way, the horses remained where they were, resting; while some even lay down.  “We go afoot,” said Brandar, “as when we started.  But we could not have taken the horses into the mountains at any rate.”  And as the horses took to resting, Brandar decided that this was a good idea, and ordered the taking of rest and food, although it would be the last of their provisions, including their water.  "Nigh upon the feet of the mountains we are,” said Brandar, as darkness fell.  “Water should be easy to find.  Look for it as we go.” 

The night was cloudless, and two of the three Moons were nearly full, so there was no need of a fire.  And there they rested, not in the least eager to press on.

At length, Brandar spoke again:  “Get up, good comrades.  We are soon to march from Andaria in search of the Dwarves of Anauria, yonder, up those dark slopes.  Away shall we walk off this hill of our own accord, after the ease of riding those mounts.”  “Would that we had walked to here,” said Erek, rubbing his backside while rising.  “My bottom is too sore, what with all that ‘ease of riding’, for me to go hiking in this rough country, as were I some child a-dancing in the meadow.”  Now the others got a laugh out of that, since they too were quite saddle-sore.  “We should find a good place to hide,” said Rosth.  “We are at the end of our strength.  And as for you, young princeling,” said he to Erek, “if we had not got these rides when we did, you would now be rubbing your feet instead of your arss, and begging the Gods for a horse to ride it upon.”  And with that they all burst out laughing, for the out-of-place mirth seemed to lessen their troubles.

“Very well,” said Brandar, as the Seven began their tramping off of the hill, leaving the horses behind.  “We must look for a secure campsite.  But let us begin to climb this mountain ere night has come to an end.  There may we find a cliff-top on which to rest out of sight.”  Thus did the Seven make to leave that place when a shadow passed overhead more swiftly than a cloud crossing the Moons.  And above them they beheld a flying creature of a kind which none had seen before; curving upwards with great black wings.  But higher up they beheld a flock of such monsters diving towards them from on high.  And there was little time to prepare for the coming attack.

Barely had the Seven activated their magicks when the monsters fell upon them, striking with beak and claw.  And barely was even the magic of the Wizard’s Gems enough to keep the Seven from seeing death at that time, for the creatures were strong and agile and deadly.  Each was large enough to carry a grown man, and even his horse, high into the air.  Yet, it was found that the lightening of the Jadestone did the creatures such harm that it saved the Northrons, and kept them from an unspeakable demise.

This monster had a head like that of a vulture, but with long and sharp horns, and long fangs, and a forked tongue like that of a snake.  No feathers did it have, as its body and wings were much like those of a bat, while it had thewed arms and legs, wickedly clawed.  Yet, these bat-vultures did not land upon the Northrons, nor fought upon the ground, but attacked by swooping to use their front claws, striking at the heads of their victims, though at whiles using also their fangs or their hind claws.  Thus would the Seven have been defeated were it not for the powers of their necklaces, where the Emerald healed them of wounds about their heads and shoulders.

Nine of the monsters were killed in the first wave; slain by lightening shot from the Northron’s outstretched fingertips, as the Seven had found this to be their preferred magic, when shoulder-to-shoulder and surrounded by foes.  And this so startled the vile bat-vultures that the survivors flew up for a moment, which allowed the Seven to draw also their swords.  But then the monsters swooped again, and again, and again.  And at first the men fended off the assaults; shooting forth their blue-hot lightenings, and hacking off claws and wings, and even heads, with keen Andarian steel, while healing themselves at need.  Yet, the creatures redoubled their efforts, so that the attacks came so often and swift, and so numerous were the attackers, and so relentless the assaults, that at length all of the Seven became so riddled with wounds so grievous that they had little time for healing, and were thus born down, kneeling upon the hillside, unaware that all of the horses had been slain and dragged away or taken up into the skies and carried away.

Then three Volunteers lost consciousness, due to the severity of the gashes in their flesh, and deep stabbings from fang and claw.  And it seemed to those standing that those who had fallen were now finished, and could not be helped.  

Nevertheless, by the blood of Odar which flowed in his veins, and remembering the spirit of fell wrath which had entered into him at the river, Brandar grew enraged, and so forgetting his wounds stood up, striking wildly with lightning from one hand and using his sword in the other, and hot sunbeams from his eyes, but also firebreath from his mouth.  And because of that the bat-vultures could not come easily at the fallen.  

By the ferocity of his rage, Brandar alone turned the tide, killing half of the bat-vultures there, so that the Volunteers still standing could heal themselves and then come to his aid.

When two-thirds of the monsters lay dead about the Northrons, the surviving creatures flew up, then went about circling above, screeching loudly in angry and crackling voices; the sound of them echoing in the hills.  But they did not attack again just then.

Suddenly, Brandar collapsed from loss of blood, as he had not healed himself in his rage, and would have bled to death even as he fought.  So, Erek, among the men standing, bent and healed Brandar ere his leader’s life should all emptied out, though Erek himself was near to the brink of death, and barely healed himself ere he would surely have passed out.  Then all those yet standing healed those who had fallen, renewing the Seven as a company.

However, ere they could begin again to head east, Tomas said:  “Look there, to the west!  We are done for!”  And cresting hills nearby, like some nightmarish shadow of the UnderRealms, there came a vast number of Gnoll, howling and snarling, grinning and slavering, and coming rapidly towards the Seven.  And the bat-vultures above took to calling in their irritating voices, which the Seven found that they understood.  “Come!  Yes, they are here!”  “Yes.  Here!  Come, ser us a feast this night!”  “Yes!  Yes!  Come, and slay the man-beasts!”  “Come!  Yes!  Come swiftly!”

“We go!” said Brandar.  “Make for the mountains.  Keep to your magicks.  But mind the skie.  Remember the Wizard’s words, and follow me!”  Brandar then ran with the Volunteers close behind.  But ere they had ascended the very next slope, Daram called out:  “Look!.  The Gress have come.  In great strength.”  And from the northeast the Seven beheld the remains of the army of Gress with which they had done batle at the River Theweg.  “And there!” said Alak, pointing north.  “The horsemen from the road.”  Riding hard over the hills came the cavalry whose fellows the Northrons had slain in the woods, and whose garments they yet wore, though all thoroughly slashed, and spattered with their own red blood, and the thick black blood of the bat-vultures.  “And here!” shouted Rosth, pointing south.  “We are trapped on the third side as well.  Southrons, in league with the West, on the move to this place.”  From the south marched an army of Men whose livery was easily recognizable.  “Kulahnin,” said Erek.  “Curse their souls.  Like as not they have Mages among them, for their lords are high in the arts of devilry.”  Thus, freedom lay only in the mountains rising in tall and ragged spires in the east, like upturned teeth in the jaws of a great primordial creature of earth and stone.  

Towards those peaks the Emissaries ran as never before, healing themselves as they went, so as to keep going despite the lack of food and water, and of sufficient rest.  And in this way, at the rising of the Suns, they arrived at a high cliff-wall, all the while looking for an attack from the horrible bat-vultures yet circling above and calling still to the enemy upon land.  And when the Seven came up to that wall the winged-ones indeed fell upon them once more, in a plot to keep them trapped until the rest of the enemy should arrive.  But the cliff aided the Seven; keeping the bat-vultures from swooping as freely as they had been able to do before.  Then the Seven slew so many more that the survivors flew up to circle above the cliff-top.  Yet, the monster’s dastardly plan was achieved, for there rode up a company of the Westron Cavalrymen wielding long spears.

So did the horsemen charge upon the Northrons, intending that a final battle would be fought at the base of the cliff.  Yet, Brandar broke away, running headlong to meet the riders; his bloody sword held high.  And this startled the horsemen, as he shoute:  “Death to MorLome!”  Then he slew three with lightning, and cried:  “For Andaria and the Dunjilar!”  Whereupon he worked defiantly against spear and shield, and axe and sword, and hammer and mace; like a whirlwind in a forest of sharp and pointed steel, knocking the enemy’s weapons high and wide, then slaying rider and horse alike.  But he was followed by the Volunteers, who likewise shouted battle cries; seeing no better way to fend off so many than to make their own charge, instead of waiting to be skewered.  Thus did the Seven do battle with the horsemen.  And while it was a hard and hurried fight, the Emissaries were prevailing, and many riders were being slain in short order.

Strong and agile were the Northrons.  And so powerful were their magicks, and so imposing their counter, that the cavalry advance was stayed; with many an enemy mount turning or bucking, or running wildly away, or spinning about uncontrollably.  And it soon became clear that the Northrons would win the day, despite the best efforts of the well-armed enemy.  Yet, while many spears were hacked aside, and axeblows fended off, and mace strikes thrust back, the Northrons received grievous wounds, and were hard pressed to heal themselves as they struggled.

Well-trained and battle-proven were those horsemen.  And their steel was nigh as fine as that of the Northron’s own Andarian swords.  Thus were the Seven made to fight in earnest, regardless of the magic of their necklaces.  And many times did the jabbing and slashing and hacking of the enemy make its mark.

Even so, by the powers of their necklaces, and their inborn strength, and their own training and experience, the Seven won the field, so that the greater part of those horsemen were wounded or killed, and only eleven rode away; leaving their fallen fellows on the gore-spattered gravel at the bottom of the cliff, with the nearly exhausted Northrons standing bloodied but victorious over the dead and the dying.

The Northrons once again healed themselves, suddenly dismayed to find that the power of Erek’s Emerald was waning.  Then they went about catching horses within ready reach, but Rosth called out before each could find a mount, nodding to where Gress were bounding over hills northwest.

So then the Seven must ride upon four horses only, with Khalen behind Brandar, Alak behind Rosth, and Erek behind Daram.  And barely did they get out from under a rather thick rain of arrows while following the bottom of the cliff-wall going south. 

Riding much too swiftly over that rough and dangerous ground, the Seven could see the Gnoll coming less than three furlongs away, and outpacing even the main force of horsemen now riding down from the north, and also the Southrons a league away, but turning to cut off the Northron’s escape.  And the Northrons need not look back to know that the Gress were coming behind them.  So it was that the Seven were bound to be destroyed, should they not find a way into the mountains.

“What shall we do now?” exclaimed Alak.  “Trapped as between hammer and stone!  Would that we had wings like to eagles.”  “Hush up!” said Rosth angrily, and quite unlike himself.  “The end is not yet.”  “Look for a way into the mountains!” said Brandar, pointing at a stretch of broken cliffs a little ways ahead.  “We must outrun the enemy, there!”  “We have lost our chance!” said Daram.  “The ground is too rough!  We shan’t make it ere these mounts falter upon the stones.”  “True,” said Erek.  “We shall break their very legs off at this pace.  But what choice do we have?”  “No choice,” said Brandar.  “Keep looking for a pass, or some other way up.  We can scale the cliffs if we must.  Do not give in.  Have we not made it to the mountains?  The Dwarves will not be far away.  Let us ride as swiftly as the horses may allow.  And pray to the Gods that we make it in time.”

Night had fallen, but again the Moons gave enough light.  And so it was that the Seven rode, moments away from capture.  Then, as Erek had foretold, he and Daram’s horse broke a leg, and falling it spilled the two onto dangerously rocky ground.  And then, to their utter disappointment, the Seven found that Erek’s Emerald would not heal the animal.

Then the Seven rode upon three horses only; one carrying three men.  And as they all expected, that one broke one of its legs, so that the Seven had but two mounts between them.  With that, Brandar ordered the remaining two horses released.  And the Northrons went forward on foot as quickly as the treacherous land would let them go.  And not a few times did one or another of the men likewise break a leg, where they found that the healing of the Emerald grew weaker with each effort to mend a limb.  Then did they fear that their Necklaces would fail them altogether.

At length, and barely in time, the cliffs seemed lower and more broken, and much more accessible.  And there Brandar found a deep fissure that went all the way up, with its end out of sight.  “A likely place to climb,” said he, turning eagerly towards the cleft.  But a short black arrow suddenly entered his neck from the right, piercing his throat all the way through.  And he doubled over from the pain; nearly killed at that time, as hot blood gushed from his mouth and quickly entered his lungs, so that he would surely choke to death should he swoon ere pulling out the arrow, and if not for Erek, seeing that his leader could not next utter the words of healing, moved swiftly to heal Brandars wound.  Then a torrent of arrows fell upon the Seven.   Alak received a gash over his right ear, and an arrow in his right hip.  But he was able to pull the arrow out and heal himself before the pain would lay him down.  Khalen took an arrow in his arm, and Tomas one in the shoulder, while Erek took two in one leg, but Daram one in his side.  Yet, Rosth was unhurt.  Neither did Brandar get more than the arrow in his neck.  But that was quite enough for Brandar.  He and his wounded fellows struggled to break-off then withdraw the shafts, ere they all fell out from agony, and then called up the healing as quickly as they could.

Suddenly, the Gnoll were upon the Seven, having come more swiftly than the Gress by leaving many of their brethren behind, broken-legged and bleeding, as they ran heedless over the knife-sharp rocks in the night, driven by senseless rage.  And the Gnoll who had made it loosed all of their arrows as soon as coming within sight of the Northrons.  So had they come unexpectedly upon the Emissaries.

By fortune, Gnoll carry few arrows, and unpoisoned; preferring to fight using thin swords and short spears.  Thus did the Seven have just the time needed to remove the arrows that struck true and heal themselves ere the Gnoll arrived like a pack of ravenous animals and engaged in close fighting.

Years later, Brandar would say that the arrow wound he had taken there was the most distressing he had ever experienced to that time, because both the arrow-head and the shaft were barbed, and he was forced to push it clean through, breaking off the feathers, ere drawing it from his neck, yet finding that he could not then utter the words of healing.  And he thanked Erek, and the Gods, many times thereafter.  Nevertheless, all of Seven had now to stand and immediately fight with a vicious company of Gnoll, numerous and unrelenting.  And in the midst of the struggle, the Seven could see the approaching Gress, trotting steadily from the northwest, while the horsemen still rode from the north, and that army of Southrons drew ever closer.  Doom had come upon the Northrons, of which there was no doubt.

Most of the Seven were then wholly convinced that this was their end when suddenly the bat-vultures entered the fray, so that the wounded and weary Seven were put to it all at once upon one flank, and also above.  Consequently, the Seven must move east and make for the crack in the mountainside, even as they fought, or they would fail.  “To the cleft!” shouted Brandar, fighting so fiercely that his words were stuttered.  “Make for the cliff wall!  To the cleft in the cliff wall!”  And he began to move as he fought.

Step by step, limping and stumbling, clutching at huge gaping wounds, defending themselves from Gnoll upon their right, and then coming at them from behind, and from the bat-vultures swooping upon them from above, the Northrons moved slowly towards the fissure in the great cliff-wall.  And lo, they made it to the safety of that place, as the cleft was so narrow that two only, wielding their magicks, could defend the opening against many, while the bat-vultures were prevented from flying in.  Indeed, to the Northrons, it was as if nature herself had made a huge crack in the mountains, ages apast, just to save the Northrons from destruction that day.  

The cleft was as a great vertical split in the cliff, from top to bottom.  And it was so very narrow, and the approach so high and so jagged along the sides, that Brandar and Daram together kept the enemy from entering, while the other Northrons searched the ways of the bottom of a ravine behind the cleft, with the dawn full breaking. A haven they had found, and a mighty fortress.  And also a trap, lest some way out of it could be discovered.  Yet, Brandar and Daram filled the mouth of the ravine with such dread that the Gnoll soon pulled away, giving up their assault, and moved off to set up an encampment in the nearby hills.  But the Gress and the horsemen would arrive very soon.  And that may mean more fighting, as the morning grew brighter.  

The Seven now rested and healed themselves, and took food and water, but dared not sleep, nor relax their guard upon the entrance to the cleft.   Then a few of them made to search out the way east.  “Lord Brandar!” shouted Alak, joyously.  “Come see!  A pass has been carved into the cliff!”  And when Brandar ran to see what was afoot, he did not notice that the floor upon which he ran was itself smooth and level.  “A stairway,” said Alak, as Brandar came close.  “Stairs carved in the stone.”  And all but Daram, who stayed to guard the entrance, crowded to see.  

The steps began to rise at the back of the great crevice, and went so far up into the mountains that their end was lost from sight, despite the growing light of day. “This is it!” cried Brandar.  “The way to the Dwarf Realm!  Up the stairs we go, in search of the Dwarves of Barador!  Follow me!”  And Brandar took to the stairs as if they were the path to Esuriah itself.  Quickly followed by his men, Daram came last, keeping a wary eye on the entrance to the crevasse.  Thus did the Northrons at length rise above the cleft itself, and were high in the mountains ere the enemy were aware of their escape.  And they climbed as far as they could manage, until at last they must rest.  

Here they healed themselves; again finding that the power of the Emerald was finally fading, for it did not cure their weariness or hunger as thoroughly as before.  Yet, they rested there, high upon the stairs, looking down upon the top of the crevasse, and upon the enemy encampments stretching now far out into the countryside, and which included all of the enemy that had come there in pursuit of the Northrons.   

A day and night they rested, though sleep was difficult on the stone of the stairs.  Then they climbed again, sure that the enemy would be braving the stairs themselves, down below.  So, climb they must, and tarry not overlong while resting.  Arduous was that trek, for the stairway went several leagues up, into the tallest of the mountains of Anauria.  And when the Northrons reached its end on the evening of their second day of climbing, with little rest, they must stop and be healed once again.  But while they were out of food, and going quite hungry, they found sweet and clean running water in abundance from the melting of snow upon the heights.  And here they could see that they were at the bottom of a great and wide valley, between two mighty peaks, where the stairs gave way to a rough but discernable upward-sloping path.  Yet, no living thing was to be seen in that valley, for it was all of treacherous black stone, and no plants nor lizards nor vermin, nor even birds, could be found thereabouts, though those dreaded bat-vultures could be seen at the edge of sight, far below, yet continuing to circle above the cleft in the cliff-wall there.  Glad, therefore, were the Northrons that they had escaped so high into the mountains.  But worried they became that no sign of life could be found, nor any sign that Dwarves indeed lived nearby.

“Bleak it is,” said Alak, as night fell and the Seven looked up into that dark and lonely valley.  “Who would think that Dwarves, or anyone else, could live here.”  “I remember what the Dwarves trading in Romin would say,” intoned Brandar, “when I asked about their homeland.  ’We Dwarves do not live upon our mountains, but within them,’ said they.  ‘We carve out dwellings for ourselves in the heart of the stone.  And that is where we dwell, as warm as bears in their dens, and bees in their hives, and far more safely than living in houses of wood on the wide open plains.’”  “Such is commonly known,” said Daram, “though few Men have seen those places, these days.  I, for one, hope that the Dwarves at least have a hearth from which they may give us a hot meal.  And mayhap they shall give us soft beds to sleep upon.  My bones ache even after healing from the Emerald hanging from Erek’s neck.”  “They say,” said Erek, “that the cities of the Dwarves are paved with bricks of gold, and there is a treasure trove ‘neath each of their beds.”  “That I would like to see,” said Tomas.  “Bricks of gold.” “Do not believe such tales,” said Khalen.  “I am one who has seen such a city, in my youth.  A marvel it was, to be sure, but it was not paved with gold.  My father took me once to visit with the Dwarves in the Ice Mountains, away to the North.  Believe rather what you see with your eyes, should we meet with the Dwarves of Anauria.” “Verily,” said Brandar.  “But do not speak of treasure, should we come among the Dwarves, lest you ‘rouse their ire.  And what is known is that the heart of a Dwarf is bound to the work of his hands, whether that be with stone, or with iron, or with gems.  Thus, unwise and unwitting would it be to speak of treasures ‘neath their beds.  The more especial if one wishes to beg of their charity.  We must speak only of our purpose, such as it is, and entreat them to send aid in force of arms to Andaria.” 

The Northrons rested there for the day, soaking up the sunlight.  Then Brandar bade them continue, as night came on; hoping that movement would help them endure the cold.  “The Gnoll may be climbing the stairs, by now,” said he, as the Seven made their way up the path, “not to say also the Gress, and mayhap Westrons, as well, on foot.  Let us look for signs of the Dwarves, and with luck even the road to Barador, if the Gods will it so.”  And he led his men up gully and ghyll, and many a rocky ravine.  Yet, due to the roughness of the way, the Seven took many cuts and bruises as they went.  And often would one of them sprain an ankle, and during the wearing of the night, Daram and later Rosth each broke a leg.  But with each use of the Emerald, the healing power took longer than the time before.  And this caused the Seven to lose heart. 

Neither could anything be done to ward off the cold, as Brandar forbade the heating of stones with firebreath; fearing that the magic of the necklaces would give out entirely.  And with the coming of another morning, the Seven found that daylight did now nothing to relieve the chill of the mountain's winds.  Thus were they more cold than at any other time in their lives. 

One day more they trekked, and were then just past the middle of the valley, as far as they could tell, when the sky became ashen, so that the Suns were shrouded.  And at noon, the gloominess had grown as severe as when the Seven were braving the ranks of the enemy in the Eastmarch.  And the cold winds sliced through their ragged garments, as though the whisps were blades made of ice.  Then also were the men’s bellies aching from hunger, despite the healings that must be initiated so often that the Seven now rested more regularly than they traveled.

“The magic is weakening,” said Erek.  “And we are likely all to starve to death.  Would that some beast were here to be slain and eaten.  …  When will it ever end?”  “Curse these wretched mountains,” said Tomas.  “There is no game for hunting.  What would I not do for some hot rabbit stew.”  “We have been overly dependent on the Wizard’s Gifts,” said Alak.  “Soon they may fail, and what then shall we do?  These mountains alone shall slay us.”  “Why are we even here?” said Erek, angrily.  “We have seen not one sign of the stupid Dwarves since leaving the stairs.  Shall we ever see them?”  “Enough!” said Brandar, frowning at Erek.  “You knew what you faced when you agreed to follow me here.  Would you turn back now, after all we have been through?  Would you return to face the armies of MorLome?  If the Wizard’s magic fails us, and the Gods abandon us here, then so be it!  But I think not that such is our fate.  I, for one, shall go on, Dwarf Lords or no.”

“Forgive me, my Chieftain,” said Erek.  “I spoke rashly, unthinking.”  “The best course is yet to the east,” said Tomas.  “And to keep our vows.  Have we not come alive through the siege of MorLome?  That alone should be worth a song or two, and thus reason to press on, even should we be defeated by these wan and bitter mountains.  Let us take heart, and carry on.  Dead we are not yet.  And the Dwarves are likely nearby, else why shape this trail so easy to be followed?”  But then Brandar changed his mind, owing that it was much too cold to go on without healing and rest.  So he allowed Daram to heat a boulder with the firebreath of his Ruby.  And there they gathered around, healed themselves, and rested. 

“Let us go,” said Brandar, after the stone had cooled, “though it be without hope.  Mayhap we shall come across the Dwarves soon enough.  And they shall give to us sanctuary.”  And he led the way, solemnly, as daylight began to wane.

The Volunteers followed Brandar farther into those ancient mountains, through that night and long into the following day, with the sky remaining cloudy.  Then they came to the crest at the upper end of the valley, where the sides of the two peaks, north and south, were nearest to each other.  And looking back, the Seven could see over the cliffs far below, and over the hills, and the land west, though the horizon was lost in the gloom, and in the smokes of the enemy’s fires.  And they dwelt not long on that view. 

Suddenly, Erek and Rosth called for the others to look up, northwards, and there the Seven beheld three winged beasts, each as black as the stone of the mountains, and descending rapidly towards the Seven.  “Drakes!” said Erek.  “Drakes are upon us.”  And thus all the Seven drew their swords and activated their magicks.  Then Brandar positioned his men on the slopes as best he could, in the time he had, with himself at the highest point. “Mountain Drakes,” said Khalen.  “Curse the luck.”  “Prepare yourselves,” said Bandar.  Then the Drakes were upon them.

Drakes are not as great as the Dragons of the mountains.  Yet, each was large enough to carry off a horse in one claw, which they are known to do.  So too could one alone remove the head of a horse with but a bite of its jagged-toothed maw, or with a swipe of its claws.  And thus were the Seven now in for a terrible struggle.

The Drakes fell upon the Seven like hawks upon prey.  But the creatures did not swoop across the slopes, as the Bat-Vultures would have done, and as the Seven half expected, but landed on top of their victims, plunging their huge claws deep into flesh.  And the monsters were used to biting the heads off their quarry before lifting the body and flying away, soon to devour it, or take it to a nest for their young.

Seven bright bolts of lightning struck the beasts, as the things sailed down, yet, whether by the nature of the monsters or the weakening of the Gems, the lightening did them little harm.  Then Brandar and Alak and Tomas were born down, and kept their heads only by the sharpness of their swords, and the fighting skills that are a Northron’s training and heritage.  But the three were gravely wounded.

Due to their positions on the slope, and the roughness of that place, the other four men could not swiftly attack the drakes from the side.  And the normally devastating lightenings never so harmed the creatures that they would relent, and so release their victims.  Neither was the giant-strength of Brandar’s Pearl enough for the Northrons to push the monsters away, so mighty were the Drake’s grasps upon the fallen.

Then Tomas was born up and dropped from a great height, so that he lay broken and unconscious; bleeding upon the rocky slopes.  “Rosth!” called Daram.  “Go help Tomas!  Quickly!  I go to Brandar!”  But both Erek and Khalen could not come as readily as they wished because of the sizes and shapes of the boulders thereabouts.  And Erek cursed the stone. 

With no other course of action coming to mind, Brandar and Alak tried others of their magicks, and discovered that the fire-breath was the most damaging to the Drakes, for it burned them savagely.  Then the two called loudly for the others to use the fire-breath, and with that power the Seven drove off their attackers; immediately afterwards setting about healing themselves of their deep bleeding wounds.

The Drake which attacked Brandar was the last to get away.  And while each of the beasts had been hurt, none were killed.  Then Brandar ordered that the Seven must stand well apart, once again.  But as they hurriedly scrambled to take new positions, Khalen stumbled and hurt his knee, and must limp to take his place upon the slopes.  And he had no time to heal himself.

The Drakes attacked again, more fiercely than before.  And again, Brandar’s first opponent fell upon him once more.  But this time, he stood fast under the weight of that daunting and evil beast; showing a tremendous feat of strength unaccounted for by the magic of his necklace.  And Brandar stood there swinging his sword as the Drake clasped his shoulder, and attempted to bite him about the head and neck.  But Brandar’s sword was too swift and keen for the Drake to defeat that Dunjilarian, the rightful heir of Odar, and the most dour Man the beast had ever encountered.  But neither could Brandar free himself from its grasp.

The Drake that had dropped Tomas fell now upon Daram, who did go down, and began to struggle in a panic under the grip of the foul-smelling creature.  But Daram was soon to lose his struggle, it would seem, and often came close to losing his head.

Meanwhile, just as Rosth knelt to offer healing to the unconscious Tomas, he was clutched in his side by the Drake that had, at first, attacked Alak.  In that way Rosth lost his weapon, as the monster’s talons drove deep into his ribs.  But the pain of those wounds caused Rosth to cry out so loudly that he lost his voice in that moment, whereupon he was dragged helplessly across the stones.  Then did the Drake take to flinging Rosth against the stones, at which the man lost his senses, and would soon be dashed to a limp and bloody pulp. 

Brandar hewed at the leg of the claw that was fastened to his shoulder, as Erek went to hack off a piece of wing from the Drake who held Daram, and Khalen attacked the Drake that was tossing Rosth against the stones. 

Finally, with a last desperate and mighty swing of his sword, Brandar clove fully through the foreleg of the beast that was holding him.  Yet, the claw remained as the Drake gave a cry and fell backwards.  And when Brandar pulled that claw from his shoulder, he fell to his knees from the pain; staying upright only by speaking the words of healing, and not a second too soon.  Later he would say that this wound was nigh as dire as when his throat had been pierced by that arrow from the Gnoll, and marks the second instance in which Brandar nearly died from a single wound.  But later he also gave thanks to the Gods that he had not fallen, and was able thus to fight on. 

This battle was one in which the Seven came nigh to failing.  And long thereafter would they not speak of it, lest they recall the pain suffered there.

When Erek cut into the wing of the beast that held Daram, the creature let go of Daram and struggled to get away, no longer able to fly about.  But Alak had by then climbed up the slope above the Drake and now jumped upon its back, driving with a mighty heave his sword deep into the startled monster’s back.  The Drake fell sideways, throwing Alak off, but Erek was there and assailed it with fire-breath; so smiting the vile creature that it lay itself down, quivering with smoke and flame rising from its charred wings and mutilated body.  Thus could the beast defend itself no more, and lay open to the Northron’s blade, at which Erek stepped in and deftly cut off its head.

Daram had been so wounded that he could not rise up, and then he swooned, bleeding profusely upon the stones.  And Rosth had gone limp from the pounding he was receiving.  But Khalen used both fire-breath and his sword to attack Rosth’s Drake, while the broken heap of Tomas lay quiet nearby.  Then Khalen kenned that he must finish this fight, or Rosth and Tomas would die.  He therefore drove into his foe with all he had to give, as worn as he was, and caused it to release Rosth, who was now in a very bad way, and fell as if dead as soon as being loosed.

Brandar’s Drake was made mad by the severing of its claw, and flew up to next come crashing down upon Brandar, with the intent of catching the man in its teeth.  But the Northron was too quick, and far too strong, and so punched the creature’s gapping maw aside, whereat the Drake slammed headlong onto the stony slope.  And with that, while the Drake lay stunned, Brandar drove his sword into its brain, at which it kicked and shuddered, and then lay dead; as still as the stones upon which it had fallen. 

Alak soon recovered from being thrown from the now burning Drake.  Then he and Erek went wearily to tend to the unconscious Daram.  And at the last, Khalen had so wounded the Drake which had smitten Rosth that the monster was done-for.  And so did Khalen plunge his weapon into its heart, killing it, at which Khalen fell down in his weariness, though he did not swoon.  Rather, while he had fought to the end of his strength, he dragged himself over the heal Rosth.  Yet, he could not manage to heal himself ere collapsing from exhaustion.  Then, there was Rosth, waking up and discerning what had happened, and tearfully healed his fallen friend.  And next, Brandar went over to impart healing to Tomas.  So it was that the Seven survived the attack of the Mountain Drakes.  But all of their healing was not there completed, for the powers of their Gems had been used to their fullest.  And while the Seven regained most of their health, they were not completely healed as before, and they must use the last of the Emerald’s magic upon Tomas, who was thus made well enough to continue climbing.

Testing the other magicks, as the cloudy night fell, leaving them in darkness, they found that all of the magicks faded to nothing as they tried them in turn.  So were they left as if blind with no more magical far-sightedness, nor protection by forceful energies, nor any further healing.  And if that were not enough, it had grown colder than ever. 

Unexpectedly, Brandar beheld a light upon a high place south, as though it were from a torch or small fire.  Then Daram, perceiving Brandar’s curiosity, also beheld the light, and spoke of it to the others.  And all seven gazed at it.  “Surely that is firelight,” said Brandar.  “A small flame, I would say.  A torch, or a lantern held still, but too far to know.”  “What now?” said Erek, disgustedly.  “How many more monsters must we fight, here with the magic all gone, and we at the end of our strength?”

But lo, even as they gazed upon this light, two more appeared near to it, so that the three lay along a line on the mountainside.  “Not monsters,” said Brandar, “but Dwarves.”  Then did his men begin to rejoice.  But Brandar bid them be quiet, and said:  “A signal this is, or I am a ghost.  But for us, we know not.  And if the dwarves are about making signs for themselves, then it is, like as not, a sign of battle.  Therefore, no sign from us should they see, lest they take us for enemies, or the enemy sees it and comes upon the path we have taken.”

Then all three lights went out in that instant.  “We wait for daylight,” said Brandar, “then make for that place, to see if it is truly the Dwarves of Anauria.”  So the Seven moved away from the dead Drakes and found a place out of the wind to spend the night, huddled for warmth.  And in the dull morning, they began to struggle up the mountainside without magic to aid them.  And that was indeed an excruciating climb, where the cold made them lose all feeling but a throbbing pain in their hands and feet.  Nor was there healing for the wounds they received from the jagged rocks, where at times one would fall so hard that they must rip bandages from their ragged clothing to serve as bandages.  Yet, with the coming of another night, and near the end of their endurance, they came to a slight but level place where they could rest from their efforts.  And again they huddled for warmth but due to weariness fell soon into a sound and dreamless sleep.

Khalen came awake late in the night, for no discernable reason.  And he thought he was dreaming of fireflies all moving slowly along a crooked line in the valley below.  Then he leapt to his feet, in sudden realization, and quietly woke the others.  “Look,” said Khalen to Brandar.  “It is the Gnoll, I should think.  They have at last followed us all the way here.  Even now they track us by torchlight.”  “Else they are Gress,” said Tomas.  “Or the horsemen, our friends,” said Erek, shivering.  “Or all of them together,” said Brandar.  “We should tarry on this ledge no longer.  As sore as we are, we must climb.”

So it was that the Seven climbed, and climbed, and stumbled and fell, and wore themselves down so terribly, and had lost so much blood, and were coming so close to collapsing, that they could barely keep going by the waning of the night.  And as they were starving, and had found no water for two days, they lay down and could go no further when, at last, they came to a small shelf upon which to rest.  But the shelf was at the bottom of a rough cliff.

An hour later, Brandar peered weakly over the ledge to find that he disliked the vantage, as he could see no torch-lights due to pinnacles of stone between his perch and the valley.  So he decided that he must scale the cliff above the ledge by morning, so as to keep an eye on the ways to that place.  And he made to climb the wall, but found it the most grueling of efforts, and cursed himself when at whiles he would be stuck, and must go sidewise or back, to find handholds for a more certain way up.

At long last Brandar came barely to the top of the cliff and made to pull himself over when a shadowy hooded figure suddenly appeared above him, so startling him that he lost his hold and would have fallen to his death.  But the figure reached swiftly out and caught Brandar by the wrist, and with one pull hauled the Northron up and sat him upon the cliff-top, quite safe and sound.  And, even in his fright and amazement, Brandar noticed that this person had unusually large and strong hands, with long thick fingers, and a very rough palm.  Then Brandar was reminded of a time in his childhood when his father had lifted him up by the wrist, just as this person had done him just now.  But then he swooned from his weakness, and knew no more for a while.  But many things happened while Brandar slept.  Things he learned of only after he slumbered away his tiredness over the course of several days.  And these were the most fateful of things; marking the end of the Northron’s trek through the ranks of the enemy during the Third Invasion.  Yet, little do Andarians know of those things, as they are deeds of the Dwarves of Anauria, not sung among Men as much as the deeds of the Emissaries.  Nevertheless, it was by those deeds that the Emissaries were saved.

Under cover of darkness, a company of Gnoll had stealthily climbed to where the Volunteers were resting, and would attack without mercy, unknowingly at the moment of Brandar’s swoon up above.  But a tremendous horn blast peeled through the valley and alerted the Six, so that the Gnoll did not catch them off-guard.  And at the first clash of metal, here came swift arrows from the cliffs all around; bringing ruin upon the Gnoll, while leaving he Northrons totally unharmed.  Then numerous Dwarves appeared atop the shelf, as if magically emerging from the very stone of the mountain.  And these now assailed the Gress and chased them away, at which the Six Volunteers sat with their backs to the cliff-wall, too weary to notice that Brandar was not there, nor to thank the Dwarves for saving their skins.  Yet, the Dwarves heeded them not, being intent upon pursuing the Gnoll down the slope and into the valley. 

Coming to their senses after a while, the Volunteers suddenly realized that Brandar was gone.  And they stood and called out for him, but stopped when seeing the light of many torches above them; for atop the cliff, dwarves with coal black eyes were peering down at them, as the sound of a furious battle wafted up from the valley.  And without a word of greeting or explanation, the Dwarves let down knotted ropes for the men to grasp, and by which they meant to haul the men up.  And so it was that the Dwarves pulled the Volunteers up the cliff-face, whereupon all but Daram and Erek lay down from exhaustion as soon as reaching the top.  But there the two beheld Brandar sleeping on the ground nearby, wrapped in a thick fur blanket.  And they were much relieved to see Brandar safe and whole, and resting peacefully.  Then they sat down, both of them thanking the Gods that they had been rescued. 

The leader of the Dwarves then spoke to them, using the Andarian Common, and said:  “Fear not, brave Warriors.  Your Chieftain is not hurt, but has merely swooned after his great climb in the night.  We are here to help you, and shall tend to your needs as soon as may be.  But we have a task to finish, ere other concerns are addressed.”  Then the two were comforted, and Erek sat down.  But Daram said:  “Thank you, Lord.  We are saved by your kindness.  But how did you know that he is our Chieftain?”  “We have been watching you,” said the Dwarf, “for a long time now, and listening to you.  Ever since you all stepped upon the Ancestral Stairs.  Do I not guess rightly that you are Northrons, and that this one is your Chieftain?  But you have come from the west, which means Andaria.  Is that not so?”  At which Daram nodded.  “I am Bereth,” said the Dwarf, “son of Barad; Lord of West Anauria.  You are safe now, here in my realm.  Rest on this porch for a while, and then shall we see to your stomachs.  Soon the fighting will be done, and I shall hear your tale.  Meanwhile, your wounds will be tended, and cloaks will be given to you, to stave off the cold.”  “Thank you again, my Lord,” said Daram.  “Indeed, Northrons we are, from the city of Romin.  Daram am I.  And our Chieftain is Brandar; a Dunjilarian of the house of Odar.”  Bereth remembered the name Odar from stories he had heard in his youth, and had once traded with Northrons in Romin, and who spoke of the legends of Odar the Old.  But he said nothing of this at the time.  “Rest now, friend Northron of Romin,” said he.  “We shall meet again on the morrow, and then may you give me your Tell.”

The Adventures of Brandar Odaron

Book 1:  The Hidden Continent

Chapter 8      Of Bereth And The Eastlands

Bereth had with him a large following of Dwarves from Barador, Kazzar, and Morrin, among other Dwarven strongholds.  And since the Anaurian Mountain Range was the Dwarves’ natural homeland, they went by ways which only they would know, and thus surrounded the enemy in the valley.  Then did Bereth win a wide victory there, though the Seven knew nothing of it until much later; for when they had rested enough that they could eat something, and drink Dwarven mead, praising the provender as if it were the food of the Gods, they were taken into warm fire-lit caverns where they slept two days and nights without waking.

Bereth was called Sir Longhand by his late father, Barad of Kazzar, due to the great strength in Bereth’s hands, which he had even from birth, but which he enhanced by many years at the forger’s art.  And Bereth was the Inheritor of his father’s battle-axe, Ankiramarth, one of the Magic Six of the Palaklar.  I, Maneldor of Romin, made that axe, and imbued it with mighty magicks for use in the Eastmarch, and presented it myself to Lord Barad in the days of the First Invasion from the West.  Ankiramarth was thus instrumental in saving Andaria from destruction at that time.  But like all of the Palaklar I have made, I placed within it a magic that extends the life of its owner, even to several the normal span of years for the owner’s kind.  Hence, Barad lived for five lifetimes of his folk, while ordinary Dwarves live at least three-hundred years.  And Bereth his son was eight-hundred and sixty years old when he rescued the Emissaries from the clutches of the enemy.

It was Bereth who rebuilt the city of Keval, which had been destroyed in the Second Invasion.  And he renamed it Barador in honor of his renowned father.  But in later days, Barador would become the most famous city of the Dwarves of Anauria, as Bereth spent so much of his vast wealth therein that, in some high places, it would indeed come to have streets paved wholly with bricks of gold.  Yet, that is another tale.  For now, I shall continue with the story at hand, in which the Dwarves played a significant part, and not merely for their rescuing of the Seven.

Bereth learned of the Third Invasion at its beginning from Andarian refugees who fled into the mountains; some of whom sheltered with the Dwarves, where Bereth kept all of those who came to him in his very own palace.  Yet, those refugees had long since passed from sickness or old age by the time the Emissaries came to Barador.  But Bereth did not in those days consider himself strong enough to go to Andaria and devoted himself to shoring up his own defenses, building up his armies, and securing alliances with the other Dwarf Lords.  He must also protect his realm from the evil things of the mountains, most especially the Drakes; excited to blood-lust upon sensing the carnage westwards.  And he had also to protect the mountains from the invaders who would send parties of Men or Durwolc into the mountains to spy upon the Dwarves.  However, by the time the Seven Northron Emissaries came to him, and told their tale, with Brandar pleading with him to send aid to Andaria, Bereth’s following had grown great.

Long had Bereth been contemplating sending forces into the Eastmarch, as the Durwolc there were growing ever greater in number, threatening his own borders.  And if Andaria fell, then war would come to him whether he was prepared for it or not.  Thus did Brandar’s story spur Bereth to go as soon as could be to the aid of Andaria, and thus did he call for the full muster of all Anauria, and then set out to do battle with the enemy.  Besides that mustering, however, Bereth commanded that all of the people of his realm must prepare for war.  And he sent messages to all of the other Dwarf Lords, suggesting that they should do the same.  He also asked them to send all the warriors they could spare to go with him to Andaria.  And seven of those Lords did just so; sending company upon company of their best to Barador, and thereby increasing Bereth’s strength tremendously, as those Lords kenned likewise that, should Andaria be defeated, all of the Anaurian Dwarves were next to be assailed.  It would be best, then, to send warriors down into what they called the Flatlands as soon as could be.

Now, when Bereth had heard Brandar’s tale, and sent messengers to the Lords of the Dwarves of the Mountain Realms, he assumed that Brandar and his men would come with him and return to their homes.  But when he was about to send messengers to the Elves of Eastwold, to ask them also for aid, Brandar stopped him, saying:  “My Lord.  Pardon, I beg.  But if you send messengers East, allow me and my men to go with them, for I wish to speak with the all Lords there as I have done before you.  And I would beg of them likewise to send aid to Andaria.”

Thus, Bereth sent with the Emissaries only guides, as he deemed no messenger from him would speak more urgently to the Elves of Eastwold than Brandar begging them to send aid in force of arms to Andaria, which would mean sending Elves to a war not their own, where many may fall upon foreign soil.

So it was that the Emissaries survived and went to the Eastern Lands and the Coasts while Bereth Longhand went down from his mountains leading an innumerable host and drove the enemy from the Eastmarch.  And there came afterwards a great army of Eastwold Elves who assisted with defeating the rest of the enemy in Andaria, and therefore, both Dwarves and Elves together brought an end to the Third Invasion.

After that, Bereth remained in Romin for nigh a two fortnights, and spoke often with King Tarl in the Royal Chambers.  And upon a time, Tarl asked more about the Seven, at which Bereth said:  “I had been gathering my forces in Barador for years, but was not yet ready to go to war.  Yet, because of the stirring up of the Durwolc by the passing of the Emissaries through the Eastmarch on their way to my realm, though I did not know of them then, I feared that the enemy were at last coming to assail my people.  Thence did I gather what warriors I could in haste and went out to await them in the valley which lies before the Northern Slopes of the Mountain of Keval.  Thus, I was waiting above the Ancestral Stairs and sent Guardians to watch the Lower Pass, and to spy upon the foothills, lest the enemy discover the way up into my kingdom.

“The Guardians of the Pass indeed observed the Emissaries coming from the Hills of Xalaria, and witnessed the fighting between the Seven and the Gnoll at the feet of the mountains.  Yet, because of the Northron’s stolen raiment my Guardians did not at first know that these were Men from Andaria, for the enemy has often engaged in trickery these many years.  And seeing also the potent magicks of the Seven, the Guardians, few in number, hid themselves while the Seven ascended the Stairs.

“When first I received news of the Seven, I guessed somewhat their purpose, and had lanterns lit to give them a beacon of hope.  The Gnoll, however, heeded not this warning, and continued their pursuit.  And that is how I met Brandar and his men, for they climbed up to me and I saved them.  But while they safely slept away their weariness I sent forces into battle in the valley and destroyed each of that enemy who dared set foot in my realm.  And I let not one escape.  But against the encampments in the foothills, of Gnoll and Gress, and Westrons and Southrons, I was not then prepared to go.

“After a few days of rest, Brandar was ready to give me his tale.  And his story struck a chord in my heart.  Then was I resolved to complete the mustering of the Dwarves of Anauria, and make them ready for war.  Yet, Brandar refused to come with me, his being intent upon continuing east, which turned out for the best, after all.”

When the Seven had been but one fortnight with the Dwarves, they traveled due east from Barador, arriving at length in that most ancient Elven city of Greenway, in the Free Land named Eastwold, which the Elves name Zuvekushar, and where dwells their greatest king, Tingor the Eld.  And Tingor is a very old and wise sovereign, knowing much of what transpires in the world, even of the Long Siege.  Thus had Tingor himself been preparing an army to send to Andaria, owing that, if Andaria should fall, the Dwarves were not likely to hold out forever, nor keep the enemy from going north or south of the Anaurian Mountains, so that his own kingdom would be threatened, as would all of the Eastern Lands.  And Tingor was also struck by Brandar’s tale, and heeded the man’s pleas, and soon sent forth that army.  But here again, Brandar refused to return to Andaria, saying he desired to speak yet with others of the Free Peoples of the East, which was indeed the truth.  Yet, he realized that he could not hide his heart from this Eld, who had seen the faces of the Gods of Old, and could read the minds of Men.  So, Brandar revealed that he now desired to fulfill another quest, which was to seek passage over the sea in search of the ancient home of the Gods of Old, and find there a way to approach them, and beseech the Gods to rid the world of MorLome, and restore then to the Northrons their long lost homes upon the far and fruitful land of Rillguman. 

Oddly, this was the first the Volunteers had heard of this new quest.  And they stood in awe nearby, listening intently as Brandar spoke with the mighty Elven King.  “Forsooth, Lord,” said Brandar, “know that I have such a burning desire to assuage that I cannot deny it.  And lo, even should such a desire be the death of me, I shall not put it aside in this life.  Nay, I cannot, for it is the very thing which keeps me going, and gives me reason to keep filling my lungs with the unseen air of Ghelion the Anon. 

“Verily, I would go and find these Gods, who allow things evil to be, and ask of them why they remain hidden to the Children of Eiowaeh, though wielding power, it is said, in Esaereh, as the wind bends the trees.  And I would beg of them their aid in our struggles with the Sorcerer of the West, so that the rightful home of my people may at last be restored.  But when this I have done, or have made the attempt, then shall I return to Andaria, and there take up arms in the Westmarch as once before I have done.”  Thus spake Brandar to Tingor.  But little more would he say in the open.  Then Tingor inquired of the Volunteers their own desires; whether they wished to follow their Chieftain to the Coast or go back to Andaria.  And all but Alak and Erek, at first reluctant, pledged to follow Brandar wither so ever he wished to go, even to the edge of the world.  So then Alak and Erek pledged likewise, and proved loyal to the end of their days.

“Very well,”  said Tingor.  “It seems that you are set on this course.  Yet, be now warned.  The Gods of Old are not to be found or seen in Esaereh, the World Around Us, as once they were; for long ago did they forsake their former raiment and shall not take it up again.  Neither shall they set foot once more upon the ground we Children yet tread, and upon which once indeed they trod.  But this does not mean that they are not mindful of the world they have made, nor of us and all the creatures placed upon it.  Nay, they are ever mindful of it, and work ever for its benefit.”  Then Brandar felt the gaze of Tingor as if it were a deep and probing magic.  “Go therefore, if you must,” the wise Tingor continued.  “But do not speak ill of the Gods, lest you set them against your quest.  Rather, pray for their blessing.  And mayhap, in some manner which you do not expect, they shall grant you fulfillment.  But I, for my part, counsel against this course, though I shall not hinder you, and shall aid you in all ways in which I am able.  Horses and provisions I shall give, and guides to direct your path in these lands.  And may the Gods be with you.”

At other times did Tingor attempt to dissuade Brandar from embarking upon his new purpose, which was later to be named Brandar’s Quest.  But Brandar would not change his mind.  Then the Elven king gave the Seven gifts of gold and silver coin, and fine horses, and supplied them with goods for their travels, and friendly guides familiar with all of the roads of the Eastern Realms.  And Brandar said that he would seek passage over the sea from the Mariners on the Coast, but Tingor doubted that the Mariners would take the Seven farther than the coast of Wilderland for any wealth in coin.  So, the Emissaries departed and began going among the lands of the East, begging of their Lords to send warriors to Andaria, even traveling by ship along the Coasts to the greatest cities by the sea, until Brandar received a letter from myself, informing him that the Third Invasion had been brought to an end by the coming of the Dwarves of Anauria, and soon afterwards the Elves of Eastwold, so that Brandar’s mission was fulfilled.  Yet, he sent a letter of his own in return, saying that he would not come to Andaria at that time, for he desired to go exploring upon the sea, and that the Volunteers had agreed to go with him.  Then we spent three years sending letters to one another, whereupon I read of his adventures fighting the pirates of the South.

When the Third Invasion was done, and Brandar was free to do as he wished, he went to the city of Sealoam to find support for his intent to go exploring in the world upon the sea.  But the King of that realm was loath to give any of his ships for such a venture, nor would he hire any out to the Seven, though he agreed to ferry them to the port of Sandhaven, where they may seek work as Guardsmen upon merchant vessels plagued by the pirates of Fehvahr.  Thus did the Seven take up the task of protecting ships against pirates, rumored to be selling stolen goods to the Kulahnians, who were Southrons in league with MorLome.  And because of that, Brandar took heart that he and his men were continuing their fight against the Sorcerer of the West, even after Andaria had been saved form the Long Siege.

Here, the Seven had no magicks with which to ward off those pirates, as the gems I had given them had lost all their powers.  So, the men used only their swords, the same that they had brought from Andaria, and would carry for the rest of their days, for those are the brands which later became the Magic Seven of the Palaklar.  And how that came about shall be told in this tale.  But all of the doings of the Emissaries in doing battle with pirates are too numerous to give here.  The fullest accounts are in the Chronicles of Andaria at Romin.  I shall therefore write briefly how the Emissaries came to sail out of the memory of Men, after the days called The Emissaries’ Resistance To Kulahn.

So proficient were the Seven at fending off pirates and marauders, who, until then, would often fall mercilessly upon merchant vessels and seaports, that the Emissaries came to be in high demand.  And thus did they receive superior wages, and won many rewards serving aboard ships loaded with goods, and protecting the ports while goods were being loaded and unloaded.  But they sailed no further than the island of Quiechios, in those days.  Yet, during these adventures the Seven took to sending letters to their friends and kin in Andaria, relating their latest deeds.  Then the Seven became famous far and wide, where their exploits were put to story and to poetry and to song voiced in all the Free Lands of Weyilendeh.  Thus did the Emissaries become, for a time, the heroes of youngsters everywhere.  But they were so busy with fighting pirates, and learning how to sail, that they rarely paid attention to their notoriety. 

Now, the Seven were at this work for more than three years, where they saved all their earnings until at length buyiing for themselves a ship from the Men of that island.  And that was a small but worthy ship named Wingaron.  But since the Seven had by then learned well the skills of sailing, they rigged Wingaron so that seven men alone could work it, by sail or by oar, with no other help.  And the ship was large enough for thrice such a crew, so that it was capable of stowing a great many supplies.  Then did they stock it to the brink and sailed away, expecting to spend many days upon the sea. 

Thus did the Seven set sail upon the Wide Yerhiesc, the Great Eastern Ocean, saying to the Islanders that they were “making for the far off continent of Wilderland,” which the Elves also named TarCaldor, while the Men of the isles call it Dolgondil.  Yet, rumor had it that the Seven intended to continue east from there and at length go even into the Enchanted Mists at the very edge of the ocean; a thing considered foolish by all who heard of it.  And the last to see them go were Men and Elves standing upon the docks of Quiechios, who believed that the Emissaries would never be seen again.  And all of the merchants were saddened, for no others could match the Seven at fighting pirates.

The Adventures of Brandar Odaron

Book 1:  The Hidden Continent

Chapter 9      Across the Wide Yerhiesc

After Brandar’s return to Andaria, many generations since he had sailed away, I, Maneldor, obtained from him the full account of his adventures upon the Wide Yerhiesc, the Great Eastern Ocean.  And from that account I gleaned the following Tell.

Brandar had acquired maps, and scrolls of sea lore, from the Elves, along with a marvelous rod of far-seeing, and a magical pointer which always showed the directions of the four winds; north, south, east, and west, as true as the positions of the Stars and the paths of the Suns, so that the Seven could find their way through the densest of fogs, or the darkest of nights.  And guided by these instruments, the Seven set a course for the untamed land of Dolgondil, northeast from Quiechios, where they hoped to find a base from which to go exploring over the Oceans East; seeking the legendary Mists of the Gods, said to mark the end of the world itself.

Three weeks the Seven sailed and sighted no land.  Then a gale blew them far from their favored course, so that they were two weeks more ere coming wearily to the Western Shores of Dolgondil.  There they spent a few days ashore replenishing their stocks of fresh water, dried meat, fruits and nuts, and other storable foods; for the land was bountiful, and there were no monsters of any kind.  But sailing north and then again south, the Seven found, after many more weeks of sailing, that the coast ran from northwest to southeast in a great meandering curve across the upper half of the world, just  as shown on their maps.  Thus did they confirm that the ancient Elves had drawn the maps true, though the Elves no longer sailed to Dolgondil, and Men but rarely, so that there were no settlements upon the continent, and it remained unexplored. 

And true to Elven lore, the continent appeared to be nothing but forest, but for tall mountains at the edge of sight far inland.  But great reefs were discerned, by changes in the color and motion of the waters, and by depth measurements, and which extended nearly half a league from the beaches everywhere the Seven sailed along those coasts.  And with the two longboats they towed behind Wingaron, the Seven went ashore to obtain supplies, as needed, and to explore the coastlands to a day’s walk inland; adding to the maps they already had, and also drawing new ones.  Then, finding a narrow beach of yellow sand one day, with the forest growing thick to its very edge, they discovered that this region was the most bountiful yet, with many clear streams, and much game, and wide varieties of fruits and berries, and huge root-plants.  And there were many fish in the streams and in the reefs, and crabs upon the beach.  There were also herds of wild goats, some of which the men captured and penned up, and from which they had milk for making cheese, and much goat meat.  And they found beehives in abundance, from which they gathered large amounts of honey.  Indeed, so plentiful did the stores aboard Wingaron become at that time that, when at length they sailed again, following the coasts going south, they were able to make much in the way of wine from the fruits and berries, and beer from hops and nuts, and mead from the honey.  And it was all turning out very good, in their minds.  So they were glad they had come.  They planned even to return to that place upon some future day, with many large ships, to gather foods, and skins, and other goods, such as lumber, to be sold in Quiechios, and also perhaps in the ports along the Eastern Coasts of Weyilendeh.  So the Volunteers began to imagine how rich they would become, as they continued exploring the coast of Dolgondil, and also continued making new maps.  And their spirits were high. 

Several weeks the Seven spent sailing along the southern shores, and stopping at whiles to go exploring ashore.  And on occasion they would row a longboat up one of the many rivers or large streams, to go farther inland than they would desire to go afoot.  But all along they feasted on mutton or venison, and healthy vegetables, and drank clean water.  And they sampled much in the way of foods they had never seen before, but none made them ill.  And there were no monsters nor fell beasts to trouble them. 

After a two months of this, they came to the eastern shores of Dolgondil and there found yet another seeming paradise, where they remained for some time, eating their fill, and drinking their wine and beer and mead.  And it was a happy time.  Then Brandar decided that the forest must be explored farther inland than they had gone before.  So they loaded packs with provisions and headed west.  But upon their second day of travel the nice forest had turned into an impassable jungle, where they must hack their way through.  And here they were assailed by stinging insects, and came across very large snakes, and were bothered by countless creeping things.  Then they stumbled onto a wide and dank swamp, where abode a great many scaly and snaggle-toothed lizards, much like those they had seen in the defiled River Theweg.  And these quickly chased the men away, attempting to catch them, no doubt to eat them.  But the Seven ran off, and returned by the way they had come for half a day.

Clearly, then, their paradise had become a nightmare realm.  And upon their return, they lost their previous path and went astray.  Then, upon the afternoon of the sixth day of that venture, they happened upon a sunny glade full of jungle Apes, which the Seven had never heard tell of before.  But the Apes were angered, and after pounding their chests, set upon the Seven to kill them, as the men attempted to run away.  But alas, the Apes caught them, so that the men were forced to turn and use their swords; slaying some of the Apes ere the rest held back, though Khalen and Tomas were bitten savagely about their shoulders, while Brandar received a long gash across his scalp.  And indeed, were it not for the armor which the Seven had acquired in their days of fighting pirates, they would likely have been felled by those beasts.

Four apes lay dead when the rest at length retreated to the safety of their jungle, and Brandar led the Volunteers upon the best course he could determine from his magical pointer.  And they came to the beach as night fell, and beheld Wingaron at anchor as they had left her, but far to the north of where they emerged from the forest.  Trudging then upon the sand, Brandar led his men back to the ship under the stars, and by the light of only one half-moon.  Then Brandar expressed remorse at the slaying of those noble and mighty Apes, who had been living so peacefully in the wilds ere the coming of the Seven.  And he vowed to himself that he would slay no innocent beast from that time forward, excepting only when hunting for food. 

The Seven made good time on their return, despite their wounds, and were on the ship ere the middle night, at which the three stricken men tended their hurts with medicines and bandaging.  And after four days more of gathering and loading goods, they set sail once again, turning about to go south, with the coast to starboard.

After three more days, the Seven came to a place they had seen before, where dense trees grew right up to the shore, with no beach.  And this too was jungle growth, though they had not studied it as closely beforehand.  But they noticed now waterways, with many overhanging trees, emptying into the sea.  So Brandar asked that they stop there and take a longboat up by such a way, which was very wide, and which surely must be a river going a great distance into land.  With him Brandar brought Rosth, and his cousins, Alak and Daram.  But after two hours of rowing, they had yet to find a good place to land, and Rosth suggested they go back, though Brandar begged to continue for yet a little while more.  And after another half-hour they found a pleasant grove of orange trees, which grew upon both sides of the river, and was floored with a carpet of cool green grass, replete with sweet-smelling flowers, white in color.  So they took sacks ashore to fill with oranges, and began happily eating while gathering the fruit.

Unexpectedly, they were violently attacked by a Wyvern lizard, who must have considered the grove its territory.  And Rosth was thrown down, then Daram and Alak, though their armor kept them from injury.  However, the men must slay the Wyvern, as it would fight to the end, and would not relent, and would not let them flee.  And Brandar was sad for having to slay the great lizard; breaking the promise he had made to himself.  But, truth be told, he likely provided a boon to the wildlife thereabouts, as these could thereafter feed freely upon the fruit without fear of the Wyvern, which could be viewed as the first true monster that the Seven had encountered upon Dolgondil.

Brandar’s three companions rejoiced at the felling of the Wyvern, then Brandar joined them in filling their sacks with the oranges.  And Alak filled one sack with dirt, and in it placed a small laden tree, to keep aboard the ship.  Then the men returned with their boat filled nigh to overflowing with their sacks of oranges, and Alak’s little tree.

Sailing south for another day and a half, the dense jungle began to thin out, and longer and wider beaches were seen once again as they sailed.  Then, Brandar ordered that they lay anchor there, and in the morning must all go ashore to explore the land, for it was at a place that they had not searched before.  Yet, just before noon, they were attacked by a group of huge long-toothed cats; tigers with fangs, and who were fierce!

Many wounds the Seven received from the tigers, despite the armor; for the tigers were large and terrible, and exceedingly swift and strong.  And their curved fangs were every bit as long as the Northron’s swords, so that not one of the men came away unscarred from that fight.  Indeed, barely did they keep themselves from being killed.

Three of the tigers they slew before being able to escape by running headlong back towards the shore, glad that the rest of the beasts did not pursue them all the way.  Then Brandar ordered that the sails must be set as soon as may be, whence the Seven had boarded Wingaron and tended to their wounds.  So it was that they sailed again to the south, and did not go ashore for many days.

At length they came again to the southernmost coast of the continent.  And there they went upon land only so long as to replenish and overstock their stores, as Brandar now desired to sail away east, to discover what secrets the Ocean would reveal, and to seek for the Enchanted Mists themselves; as marked upon the edge of one map.

Many days did the Seven sail after leaving the last sight of dry land behind them.  And they later recalled how swiftly Dolgondil faded from view upon the horizon to their northwest, as they sailed across the unexplored Ocean.  And many a great storm did they survive, though there were also days without wind, where the Six must row while Brandar manned the helm, else drift and be idle, play games, or get rest, while waiting.  And many other hazards they endured; ghosts and wraiths, great waterspouts and whirlpools, and not a few of the smaller kinds of sea-serpents so common in those days.  But through all of these troubles the Volunteers never lost heart, nor hope, nor their loyalty to Brandar.  And he was resolved that much more to continue exploring.

Beyond Dolgondil, Brandar’s Elven maps showed only three things; warnings against the most bothersome monsters and creatures of the deeps, and a long string of fiery volcanoes in the south, and cloud-like symbols at the edge of one map labeled as the “Timeless Mists of the Gods.”   But other than those small and easily-slain serpents, the men had not yet seen any great monsters.  And that bolstered their hopes.  Then another mighty gale blew them far to the south.  But when the sky was clear at last, here they beheld a long column of white smoke rising up to the southeast. Brandar took hold of his rod-of-far-seeing and with it climbed the main-mast to see if the smoke came from the volcanoes marked upon his maps.  But when he beheld from whence the smoke was rising, he got the fright of his life.  For there indeed were the volcanoes, with the largest of them belching the smoke, but there also was a great Winged Dragon doing battle with a horrible giant monster in the shape of an ominous Waterspout.  And all about the combatants were gathered other monsters; ugly green Harpies, and scaly Gargoyles, and Gremlins and Imps, and many a vile creature flying in the air, or swimming in the water, and for a number of them Brandar had no names.  And these were all jeering and cheering and reveling in the contest.

Needless to say, Brandar called for the Volunteers to set sail swiftly to the north, while praying that the monsters would not see the sails of Wingaron ere they faded from view upon the horizon.  And he stayed upon the mast watching, until the monsters could be seen no more.  Then did he climb down in relief, and described to his men what he had seen.  Glad, therefore, were all of them that they had not been found out.

Narrowly did the Seven escape those waters; for all of the creatures, as it seems, were too intent upon the duel between the Dragon and the Water-Monster even to note Wingaron in the distance.  And not a few times after did Brandar swear that the Gods had answered his prayer.  But of the duel, they never knew, nor cared, who won. 

Then another storm rolled in, lasting three days, which blew Wingaron eastwards, much to Brandar’s liking.  Verily, therefore, not two days after, the Emissaries came to the Enchanted Mists, which Brandar had so long desired to see.  But the closer Wingaron came to the Mists, the less wind there was, so that she could not go in of her own accord.  Then did the excited Brandar urgently order the Volunteers to man the oars, while he took to the helm holding forth his magic pointer.

This marks the first instance in which some of the Six repented of their pledge to follow Brandar whither-so-ever he may lead them, as those Mists rose above them in mountain-high walls, like some vast battlement of swirling white fog.  And it came into their minds that to enter the Mists was to tempt the very Gods who had placed this marvel upon the surface of the waters, at the very end of the known world.

I must relate here that I once happened upon a torn and brittle bit of parchment in my studies of Elven lore, inserted into a little known tome among the many which the Elves allowed me to see, an Age apast.  It was placed in that portion of the tome which dealt with the time when the Gods removed themselves from the visible world, and with the land upon which once they dwelt, which we Men now call Arzultaur, the Hidden Continent.  Writ in Elven script, the parchment said that the Mists were but the mid-most and only visible portion of a tremendous sphere of mystical magic, with its enormous circumference signaled by the Mists themselves.  The sphere spans from the Frostlands South to the Frostlands North, so that it cannot be sailed about upon the oceans.  But it is this ancient barrier which keeps evil trapped within from escaping into the world without, whether upon wing in the skies or by swimming in the seas, or riding upon the waves, else slithering slyly in the watery deep.

What evil this was the parchment did not say, though we learned of this from Brandar, after his return.  I, Maneldor of Romin, found this parchment, and left it where I found it.  But I and the Elven Loremasters themselves know not who wrote it.  Clearly, however, it must have been penned by an Eld who had been taught by the Ensu, and who was told or surmised the true nature of the Mists, the Mists of Time. 

I, Maneldor, in days afterwards, alone braved the Mists, and then explored the Hidden Continent, and also the islands to its south, which lie also within the Sphere of Batement.  But that was long ere the Sereghran Founders had come there to establish Arzultaur.  And I shall not burden this tome with my story, to which I allueded earlier, and which can be found in the Chronicles.  Yet, I told not my tale to Brandar until long after his return, and only the Kings and the Loremasters of Romin would read of them in later days, though I begged them all to swear themselves to secrecy; desiring that the story of my life should be sung only after I have passed.  What follows here, therefore, is the Tell of Brandar’s own braving of the Mists, and how he at length passed safely through them.

The Adventures of Brandar Odaron

Book 1:  The Hidden Continent

Chapter 10   Through The Mists Of Time 

With Brandar steering, and the Volunteers rowing, Wingaron entered the Mists, where the Seven could see no farther than a stone’s throw ahead.  And while the day was warm and clear, the Mists were cold and damp, and eerily quiet.

Brandar, after a while, believed that his pointer turned slowly north, as though the ship were drifting off-line, at which he assumed the rowing was lob-sided.  So he began steering to correct the apparent imbalance.  But Wingaron described but a wide arc in the waters, coming out of the Mists somewhat north of the place she had entered.  With that, Brandar berated his fellows for pulling the ship to the left, at which they protested.  Then he rearranged their positions, in an attempt to even-out their strength at the oars.  Yet, it was all to no avail, for again they emerged a bit north of where they had entered, and the night was coming on.  So they rested until morning and tried again with the light of the next day full wrought.  But here too they entered and rowed for a while then emerged to the north of where they had entered.  With that Brandar cursed his magic pointer, and begged of his men their forgiveness for misjudging them.  But they merely looked upon him, or away in disgust.

With their fourth attempt, Brandar set aside his pointer, and bid the Volunteers row as steadily as they could manage.  And as Wingaron entered the Mists, Brandar closed his eyes so as to steer by feel alone.  In this way, therefore, they remained in the Mists through all of that day and throughout as much of the night as they could go with no rest.  And after eating and sleeping, they began again the following morning, after a cold and hurried breakfast, and thus rowed in what direction they knew not, for Brandar again kept his eyes closed as he steered.

That day seemed long in the passing.  Then they had supper in the night and after sleeping until dawn took the time to prepare a hot breakfast in the morning, which greatly lifted their spirits.  Then they took to the oars again, with Brandar’s eyes remaining closed as he steered, but this time, nigh the end of the day, they found themselves mired in a sea of floating plants.  And with that, the Volunteers turned vehemently upon Brandar, where Erek even cursed his Quest.

Brandar was at a loss; having no answer to their complaints.  So he bid them take food and get rest, and sleep through the night.  And in the morning may they see what was what.  But in the morning, again taking time to have a hot breakfast, though no joy did they have in eating it this time, the Six went dejectedly to the oars once more.

Brandar spurred them on, as encouraging as he could be, and after long, grueling, and finally desperate rowing, they moved Wingaron out of the tangled mass of plant-life, at which the Six cheered themselves, and Brandar gave them praise.

Here they found that beyond the tangles lay patches of great floating leaves, large enough each, they guessed, for a man to stand upon without sinking, though none attempted to do so, as there were many sea-snakes, slinking and slithering among the leaves and the vines.  And in the middle of each patch of leaves grew tall flowers like to lilies, and which had a very pleasing aroma.  So the Seven later called that place the “Sea of Water-Lilies.”  Then Brandar asked his men to continue rowing while he continued to steer with closed eyes.  And this they did, finding it easy to row among the floating leaves, and soon did they move on, to glide easily over calm waters within the Mists.

After yet another two days of rowing, the Seven emerged from the Mists.  And when the stars came out at night, and by the placement of the Moons, the Seven found that they had arrived at the same place from whence they had first emerged only days before, yet furthermore, surprisingly, they were entirely two seasons off.

Then were the Seven even more amazed at the magic of the Mists.  “Now do we know the meaning of the riddle of the maps,” said Brandar.  “The Mists change the time of those who dare to venture in.  Truly have they been named the Mists of Time.  And truly must this be the very edge of the world.

"Sad am I to meet this doom.  It seems that in vain have all of our labors been.  Should we brave the Mists again, in search of what lies beyond, then return to speak of it?  Mayhap we shall return to folk who know us not, so much time may pass.

“By my guess, a month in the Mists is the same as a life-span of a mortal man.  Unwise it would be, therefore, to attempt the Mists again at this time.”  So the Seven sailed west for some, days and returned thus to Dolgondil, to ponder their future.

By fortune, the Seven sailed safely back to that continent, and anchored in a deep, calm lagoon on the eastern coast.  And here the forest was thinly wooded, with ample game, and much in the way of provender, and it was free of wicked things, but was then visited then by a bear, which they slew for its meat and its fur.  Hence, the Seven remained long in that place, undisturbed by monsters, though they must at times defend their camp from bears or wolves, and once a jungle lion.  But otherwise, it was a pleasant place to be.  And they spent their days hunting and fishing, and gathering the fruits and berries, and nuts and roots.  Here also did they produce more beer and wine, and very much mead, for the beehives they found were overflowing with honey.

So it was that the Seven tarried there, taking their ease, and even set no guards by day nor by night, since no other fell beasts had troubled their camp in a while.  Yet, the Seven were overlong at that lagoon; growing lazy and careless, even Brandar himself; so much so that at length they took to arguing over things of small account, and were behaving selfishly.  Then, at the last, Alak and Erek came to blows when Alak took some mutton from Erek’s spit without asking.  But Brandar rushed in and pushed the two apart so roughly that they fell upon their rumps.  And standing there, like a father angry with his sons, Brandar suddenly realized how vulnerable the Seven had let themselves become.  So he rebuked the Seven, though admitting his own shame, and ordered them to begin restocking the ship, saying:  “Enough of this lounging about.  We sail again on the morrow.  Go, take up your gear, and work together as ever we have.  Make ready the ship, and fill it to the brink.  We shall try the Mists once more.  And I shall have no more bickering.”  Then Erek protested having again to enter the Mists, saying:  “It is folly to challenge a magic set by the Gods of Old.”  And Alak said:  “You tempt your fate, Brandar.  And that of us all.”  Then Rosth said:  “Aye.  You go now against the words of Tingor the Eld.”  And the other Volunteers expressed agreement with him.  Then Brandar made a pact with them, saying:  “If once again we fail to pass through, then shall Wingaron be bound for the west, by mine own hand, and we shall return to Andaria.  This do I vow, and swear by those Gods.  But we must try, lest all of our foregoing efforts have been for naught.”

With that the Volunteers took heart, and did as they were told, deeming that the Mists would surely turn them about once more, and in the end would they go home.  Yet, Brandar continued with ordering them about, though in a friendly manner; keeping them busy so they would no longer quarrel.  And while some grumbled as they worked, none defied him, nor spoke ill of him.

Thus also did they prove themselves honorable Warriors. 

The Seven now sailed eastwards, going far afield of the volcanoes in the south, though they encountered and defeated two small sea-serpents, and later fought and drove away a many-legged monster that rose suddenly from the deep and climbed its way aboard Wingaron, in search of a victim to drag 'neath the waves.  But the legs it had lost to their swords the Seven cooked and ate, finding them tasty.  Then twice were they caught in exceedingly violent storms, within the second of which they were threatened by a waterspout that came so close that the Seven feared they may be snatched up and thrown far away.  Yet, that was not their fate.  Next they chanced upon a whirlpool; several of which they had seen before, but this one appeared swiftly and sudden, and was so huge that they deemed the ship would be sucked into depths unknown, and they would never again breathe clean air.  But by fortune, and the will of the Gods, as ever, they survived, and made their way at last to the amazing wall of the Enchanted Mists, and to the end, seemingly, of Brandar’s great Quest.

Upon reaching the Mists, the men dropped sail and rowed into the Mists with Brandar at the helm, as they had done before.  But here, Brandar did not close his eyes, nor did he view his magic pointer, but steered by an unseen line that he drew in his mind, and ignored the wayward shifting of the waters, and the twisting of the ethereal wisps and whorls of the foggy white Mists.

By dead reckoning he steered, and guided Wingaron to the Sea of Water Lilies.  And, as before, they were caught, at first, though they knew now what to do and soon freed the ship and so rowed on.  Then, five days past the lilies, they entered a vast graveyard of ships, sitting among treacherous rocks whoe tops here and there rose above the surface of the water, though many lurked beneath.  Thus, Brandar asked Keen-Eyed Alak and also Erek the Complainer to lean from the bow and spy out the way, to keep Wingaron from foundering.  But as they entered that place, the wisps within the Mists seemed to take on minds of their own; moving about Wingaron as though they were shadowy wraiths.  And while there were no living things among the wrecks, there were many ghosts; some motioning to the Seven as if to warn them away, but others entreating them to come near.  Then, on one occasion, ghosts were seen aboard Wingaron itself.  But the spirits merely stood thereupon, looking sadly at the Seven, and showed no signs of hatred, nor any emotions at all.  Neither did they speak.  And at length, they disappeared slowly from sight, and did not come aboard again. 

Nevertheless, the Volunteers were quite fearful of the ghosts, and counted this part of the journey the most troublesome to that time, as Wingaron was twice grounded upon sandbars, and once upon stone, despite both Alak and Erek peering intently into the depths from the bow.  And here, with each such grounding they escaped by throwing the anchor behind and hauling hard upon its chain, which freed the ship, so that Brandar could steer past the danger.  But with each instance also many ghosts would float above the water towards the ship, and gather 'round it, though these likewise seemed intent only upon watching the living men, and otherwise did them no harm.

The Seven spent several days among the wrecks, anxious about what the ghosts may do, and fearing that a submerged rock may punch a hole in the ship’s hull, or that the ship would at length get so stranded that they could not pull it free.  But Brandar bid often the Six to stay calm, and to go slow with their rowing, and ignore the ghosts.  And at length they rowed out of the horrible Graveyard of Ships, and again moved upon a gentle sea, though remaining, as ever, within the unfathomable Mists of Time.

Endlessly thereafter did it seem to the Six that they must row into that shifting white fog; to what end they knew not.  Neither were they sure of their direction, as Brandar gauged his course by will alone.  And they counted the days by what appeared to be the passing of day and night, though they beheld no Suns by day, nor Moons by night, nor Stars in the heavens by which they may figure their place on their maps.  But row they did, nonetheless; coming to consider it oppressive drudgery, pressing on by day and resting at night.  Then did they lose at length the count of days and nights, so long did they row.

Finally, when the Volunteers felt that they could go no farther for fear of losing their wits, believing that the Gods had condemned them to row forever without respite, as punishment for braving the Mists, they suddenly broke free and beheld around them an altogether new and magnificent ocean.  Then they stopped their rowing and began to cheer with great joy, and to clap each other on their backs, and to have many a brotherly embrace, and shed not a few salty tears.

Brandar found, to his astonishment, that the Elve’s magic pointer showed Wingaron was facing east, with the Mists behind her, and with a great expanse of uncharted water ahead.  And he was right amazed at this turn, having had no expectation of coming to such a place.  Then he realized that the sea was fascinatingly different from any he had ever encountered before.  A rather new smell it had, and a strange color, and an entirely different kind of motion, unlike any sea the Emissaries sailed before.  And even the air had a different feel about it, as though it were heavier than normal.  But these were good sensations to the Emissaries.  And they took again to rowing, as there was no wind.  Yet, here they began to sing, as the sky was clear and bright, and the sea was calm and clean, and they found it absolutely wonderful.  So, their spirits were high with the realization that they had come alive through the Mists.  Then they felt a breeze and straight away set sail with a song on their lips and joy in their hearts.  And it was good to be sailing upon the wide open sea once more, free of the oppressive Mists, and of all other concerns.

How long they sailed those waters none could later recall, except to say that they spent many happy days riding o'r the waves, with the Suns moving along new pathways in the sky.  And they slept 'neath strange constellations, while the Moons likewise seemingly traveled new heavenly roads.  But they set no guards in the night, feeling safe and free, and full of life.  And they deemed they directed their own ways as surely as the wind says to itself:  “Whither now shall I go?  Why, anywhere I please.”

Yet, as naturally all merry times come at last to an end, the mirth of those days was too short lived.  And years later, in his old age, Brandar would admit that perhaps they were caught, unknowing, in some kind of enchantment, saying:  “We loved sailing so much, free of the Mists, that we wanted it never to end.  So much more dismayed were we then, when things began to go wrong.”