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Writing > Users > Josiah T. > 2007

Writing Resources from Fifteen Minutes of Fiction


The following is a piece of writing submitted by Josiah T. on October 1, 2007
"Although this is supposed to be a background, I'll give a little preview before hand, since I can't post a map.

Aidar is the main country, Thargon is a hostile country to the south of Aidar. Ithmacar is a country to the north, although at this time it is not *officially* a country. The Carnollians reffered to are a country west of Ithmacar. The Celtarn are (for lack of a better description) a group of elite Aidarian warriors. Gazma is the hero of the story, and this entire piece is based on a war that happened several hundred years before Gazma's time.

And, since I'm posting this, if any of you do the Quote Puzzler, if you didn't already know who I am, you should now. :-P"

Prologue - The Cainor Trilogy Part I: Rings of Shadow

“Many years have passed since this tale began. Times of peace, times of war, times of poverty and times of prosperity have come and gone. Kings and warlords have risen and fallen, yet our land remains much the same. Let me tell you a tale of darkness and death, heroism and brutalism, of honor and glory.”

Thus spoke the storyteller. Five year old Gazma sat next to his father on the ground, holding his knees with excitement. The fire crackled, and bright red sparks flew into the air. The storyteller continued.

“It was the year 1038, when Thargon’s initial invasion was launched across the southern border. We sent troops to fight them. They were slaughtered. We sent more troops to garrison the towns. Many towns fell, but a few stood.

“As we were gathering our full strength to retake our land, the ships were sighted off our shores. Many strategic ports were laid ruin. Even as we reeled from this blow, the Thargonite army marched to Geir’Aidar.

“Faced with both the Thargonite navy from the sea and the Thargonite army on the land, the king fled the city through a secret tunnel. The Thargonites broke in and did not find him. They spent long hunting the city, and its surroundings.” Here the storyteller paused for a drink. Wiping the ale from his lips he continued: “The king fled north, to what is now Ithmacar. The people there received him graciously, for they themselves were leaderless and hungry.

“For many years the king led the Ithmacarians, but never forgetting his own people, suffering under the Thargonite yoke. At last his chance came.

“A group of men from across the sea, skilled in Magic came as the king was growing old. They offered him back his kingdom, in return for a place to dwell and help his people. So with the aid of the Wizards, Ithmacarians, and Carnollians the king began a campaign to regain his lands. As they marched south and liberated more towns freed Aidarians rallied to them and their ranks swelled. But even as their number was added to, a great host of Thargonites marched to meet them, and many of the freed Aidarians had never held a sword before.

“Nevertheless, they met on the field of battle, and a young wizard named Melthan proved himself, slaying many Thargonite warriors and chieftains. The king slew the Thargonite commander, and the enemy fled. They were pursued back south, and many fled into the mountains.

“With the host of Thargon disbanded, the Aidarians marched south, routing the rest of the enemy, and freeing the enslaved nation.” The storyteller paused again, and took another long draught of ale. Gazma bit his lip in excitement as the storyteller continued.

“Thus the nation of Aidar was freed from the Thargonite grip. And happy though the end of this story may seem, it must yet end in tragedy. For as the king and his army marched south, they encountered more bands of Thargonites, and during a skirmish the king received a death wound from a stray arrow. Even as he lay in the dirt, his life leaving him, the enemy turned and routed the Aidarian army. Again, the Wizards saved us. They called upon their Magic to destroy our enemies, and the king's son was crowned the new king.

“Thus the remainder of the Thargonites fled, either to the mountains or back to their own land where they belong. And so a city was built on the border, and they named it Syrn which means 'keeper of the peace.' Yet before long, Thargon attacked Syrn, and we have been fighting over it ever since.”

As the storyteller finished, he downed the last of his ale. Gazma’s brother, Gazmal, awoke with a start. Gazmal was three, and had fallen asleep. Belgarn, their father, picked up Gazmal and started back toward their house. Gazma thought to himself “I am Gazma, son of Belgarn, Knight of Aidar, Warrior of the Celtarn, and Messenger of Aramia. And someday I will be,” he told himself.

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