Legends of Belariath
Mozenwrathe
From The Branches - In The End
*Another of the scrolls found by Ehlanna in the wake of the passing Prydain bore a completely different seal than she was used to finding. Normally would it be one from the signet ring of a young elf long deceased, but this one bore the seal of the kingdom of Tyrrian. As it was in a bundle all tied together with gila monster leather with a few others, this was a part of Tolwyn's missing history she had never believed possible.
The last time she had any dealings with the kingdom of Tyrrian... was through one of their most lethal by-products. She had never met the woman who was responsible for the monster that was the human called S.T.o.R.Y., but she had heard legends about her. If only those who revered her knew even half of what Ehlanna was forced to find out through this rogue agent of death, could they still look at her the same way? Probably they could, given the original reason why S.T.o.R.Y. was... how would one define him
? Developed? Programmed? Born? Bred? Whatever the words would be, could nothing truly grasp the horror that he must have faced in order to become what he was. And now, a letter from that same kingdom waa in a bundle of parchments that more than likely dealt with her fallen lover of many years ago. What could Tyrrian have possibly wanted with Tolwyn?
Putting down the other scrolls on her workdesk in the Naked Bird, she decided that as the store was closed, she would have time to peruse this particular scroll. If nothing else, it had to have something within that would tell her more about why Tolwyn went off that fateful day to find his death at the tip of a dark elf's twisted longsword. Until this day, has she never again caught up with the the House of the dark elves which caused the "love of a lifetime" to be lost in a blink of an eye. Ehlanna, being pragmatic in her years after the furies of losing her lover had howled their sorrow and were now a sleeping wrath waiting to be awakened, had thought of approaching Elthorion Kinslayer about the crest she still had in her possession. Even once did she entertain just forcing the at-one-time resident dark elven expert Tophet - the one also known as S.T.o.R.Y. (or better, Story) - to tell her, but he was too busy getting ready for war against some dark elven House or another. Now, she might be able to use this scroll to help her find them... or even at least get a push in the right direction.
Opening the scroll, did she find out a few more things than she ever had anticipated. Not only would this scroll might have saved Tolwyn's life had he bothered to open it before the time of his death, but a few more intricate details about a link between the distant past... and the recent past. Rhysia Yrilliach, the "creator" and once-Mistress of Tophet had apparently met Tolwyn once - mayhaps even more than once by the tone of the letter. For a moment did Ehlanna know a fierce and heart-wrenching jealousy. Then as common sense settled in, she remembered how Tolwyn's nose turned up at even the most desireable high elves... and the fact Rhysia had a pair of lovers for longer than Tolwyn had been alive. Tolwyn would never have dallied with Rhysia, no matter how wonderful and magnificent she would have seemed to him. *
*****
To -
The young and impetuous, not to mention mildly cute and far too serious for his own good Tolwyn, aspiring ranger in the service of the Kingdom of Tyrrian. The son of the lady Hylera and heir to a magical legacy great and proud as long as he remains humble.
From -
The Righteous and Honourable Warlord of Tyrrian, Rhysia Yrilliach. The Mistress of Nine-Blades Technique and Heroine of the Kingdom of Tyrrian.
And so I begin this letter to you on a mission of great importance. You have thus far proven your worth to the Kingdom of Tyrrian despite your shortness of years and lack of battle experience. If the past few weeks are to dictate the progession of your career, you seem as bright to me now as any of my most trusted allies and friends were when we all first began our journey together. Your letters describing your village and the surrounding villages was very well worded and has given us vital information concerning how best to approach the elders of your area with our proposal of a joint coalition against the hated dark elven scum whom even now plot to bring about our downfall.
Sildarios, as always, still considers Tyrrian a "rouge state" as we have never sought to bend our knee to their current corruption. We learned from the past and grew strong from it, where the rulers of Sildarios grow fat and weak daily, spouting their lineage to the past instead of enhancing and improving their present. Sooner or later, the ways of the ruling class will become too much for the common elves to bear, and the aristocratic tiara shall fall from the heads of many as their ears are boxed into oblivion. You, being young of heart and fresh of mind, do realize this far easier than others of generations before you. In this did you seek wisdom and knowledge at the hands of those unafraid to use power to the ends of saving the many from the acts of an accursed few. In this, did you come to Tyrrian for those long winter months and study your lessons well. And it seems that my subordinate's praises for you were not undeserved.
It is a shame that as of yet you have not come back to us here at Deltorvinarii. Although it is not like the capital city of Tyrrian, it is a wonderful place to hone one's skill and sharpen the mind. Even my dagger sees play here in friendly jousts and tussles to keep my body warm to the songs of war and delicate movement. These bones do not dance for just anyone, young Tolwyn, but they must remember how to waltz for me. It would not bode well for a kingdom if their head protector was allowing herself to lose her blade in her cups, instead of in the chest of a threat to the crown and kingdom. And how well would my chosen army fare if I were not there to lead them due to grotesque obesity? You yourself should come here, and soon. It would do my eyes well to see you again, young one.
Your mother, I trust she fares well? In your past letters have you updated me on her condition - all but the last two. Has there been a drastic change in her health? I know every day she makes ceremony for your departed father of whom I was acquainted once long after The War of Thorns and Rain. She is a strong woman, and you know she worries greatly for your health and sense of mind. Do not disappoint her like some foppish rapscallion of Sildarios. Show courage and responsibility for your words and deeds, as those are what shall ease her pains greater than any salve. Chasing the skirts of the girls in your village will avail a true ranger naught but foul reputation and horrendous cramping in the stomach - after some mother beats your ribcage raw with a heavy broom.
Know you not what transpires in your corner of Tyrrian. There has been encroachment from all sides from various agents who all conspire to bring the noble elven people to the ground in slavery or death. Most notable are the barbarians from the southwest who call themselves the Otliar Antelope clan. Within the clan are various tribes - at least five different ones. They are as at home in the forest as your own peaceful village, but with only rape and pillage on their minds. They have skins tan like cedar when polished with the lacquers of the aidemtra trees of your favourite copse close to Deltorvinarii. I cannot fathom where they cull their idea of purity and forever from, but whatever they consider a creed also includes the sodomizing and slaying of the males they find, the women they make slaves. It is probably why many of them seem to have features that are not quite human - extra long ears here, unusually sharp teeth there.
Another, far more uncomfortable threat, are the ogres of Elgniu Reach. They have made an alliance with the hobgoblins - tentatively - close to the Ikawekat Bogs. They are not as likely to attack the villages outright, but slowly pick off random targets and move on silently. Make no mistake that they are there, so use those human adventurers who constantly are roaming in the woods there to your advantage. There are so many of them it is surprising humans still have enough left to build villages of their own, let alone whole cities whose mage spires rival those of Sildarios or the infamous Tower of Unigo many moons away from where you cast your first spell. Since they are in search of blood and possible bounty, why not simply direct their attentions towards the hobgoblins or the ogres? They have natural rivalry to begin with, and any sword that wishes to strike at the foes of Tyrrian are welcome - especially if they are free.
Finally, I must mention the dark elves. Now I know you feel almost invincible after facing three on your own by accident while you were here. They were brash youths, untrained and hardly bloodied in the eyes of a truly seasoned warrior - never mind how their own would look upon them. The dark elves have numerous groupings they call Houses I have learned, and two are active in your region. Be on the lookout for them and their human allies. Yes, some humans do willingly serve the betrayers of light and love and revel in it. Most reek of the evil that dark elves exude like slime, but some are talented in hiding it within themselves. Learn how to find this evil... and burn it out of their raw and beating hearts using arrows tipped with fire and oils. The two Houses who stalk the surface clsoe to your own footsteps are known as House Tor-Nocturne, and House Liergrnok. I have heard vague rumour that a third House, known only as Kinslayer, has made inroads to the area as well, but can I not confirm this.
You must, in your duty to Tyrrian, find out whom these Houses are for certain, and send me your results. Care I not how long it takes, or how many traitors you must slay in order to get the truth. You know that war is covered in gore not glory, and peace is won at the point of a sword more oft than at the flowery words of an orator. Know you your skills and strengths - use them to your advantage in the upcoming weeks young Tolwyn. I do anticipate your next letter with baited breath and want of knowledge to strike fast against our common enemies.
And the next time you come to Deltorvinarii, bring this Ehlanna with you you always mention. For someone you insisted was not a major influence in your life, she seems to seep into your every sentence and breath. When you finally tell her the truth about your passions for her and decide to become fasted by hand and soul, shall I personally oversee the ceremony with my favourite mage and cleric by my side. After all, how best to reward one of the best archers I have seen since... myself!
***
*the letter ends like that. and the date is a scant few weeks before the death of Tolwyn himself. meaning two things in the eyes of Ehlanna: that Rhysia Yrilliach was the main reason that Tolwyn was so eager to face the dark elves in combat after his almost year away from the village at training he told none about... and that she was meant to have crossed paths with the very dead assassin S.T.o.R.Y. His "name" meant "Slave Tophet of Rhysia Yrilliach," inadvertantly tieing her to the kingdom of Tyrrian. And as Tophet managed to make allies with the sole member of House Kinslayer Ehlanna had ever met, it was another binding between her and this Rhysia Yrilliach. Tolwyn was dead because Rhysia thought he was ready to face a foe more subtle than water and... Tolwyn had mentioned her to Rhysia before?
Even in the dying paragraphs of the letter, Ehlanna could not fail to see that. Tolwyn had supposedly in EVERY letter back to Rhysia mentioned Ehlanna. Rhysia even suggested that Tolwyn was ready to propose a "golden bridge" between them, yet had she never even heard the whisper of that in Tolwyn's gestures or kisses... or had she merely missed it all? Had she been so certain that Tolwyn would always be more into passion than permanence that she had simply floated above it obliviously? She had to know the truth...
And she truly had to know why the "Bastard Himself" kept on getting his hands on these scrolls. Whatever tied Prydain to her past she wanted to discover and swiftly, before someone else found out before her...*