Ye Book Of Ye Orchids
Part The Third
First came the sea on the shore of the world
Then came the Mother of All
Then Mandorallen with banner unfurled
Then Ilass, who fell in the Fall
Last came the Orchids, that sealed the world´s fate
Long before the first Isle e´er rose
Which will seal the Book shut when they join and they mate
And bring all of our tales to a close
For the world´s dread Creators, the Powers Undreamed
With their knowledge arcane fixed a date
The last day, the last hour, the last instant they deemed
And they bound it in ironclad Fate
Thus they sent us two Orchids in full baleful bloom
Even `ere the first Isle arose
Two Orchids, as signs of implacable Doom
And the Story´s eventual close
But the minds of the Gods and the minds of the Races
Still look at the World day by day
Seeing only the matters in front of their faces
Not the waves poised to sweep them away
But to each his Dominion, as part of the Plan
Whatsoe´er that Dominion may be
Whether Irdia, Faldia, Kwendia, or Man
Down to null - up to Infinity
Could we travel the world and explore its great frame
Like a spirit, unbounded and free
Many awesome and wonderful things without name
Would our eyes, and our spirit-eyes see
But alas! We are mortal, to Time and Space bound
And unable to break or compel it
So who looks for that world which Time´s current has drowned
Must sit still - for I now plan to tell it
I shall start where I ended - the Races cast down
Out of Tirbal, which hung in the sky
To the cloud-girdled Earth out of anger were thrown
And were doomed by the Just One to die
But the wrath of the Champion would not be appeased
Until Ilass was punished as bound in Chains, Mandorallen then seized
And he threw her, still wailing, to Hell
Her brother, the Dark One, called Ennabruk´s Bane
In like manner he hurled from above
With a whistle and wail like a creature in pain
Through the air and the bedrock he dove
To a cavern, the Pit, all surrounded by fire
Where he stood by his sister and nursed
His anger, his hatred, his darksome desire
And shouted, and boiled, and cursed
Then Yetal, forsaken by friend and by foe
Was cast down to Ifreann as well
But he snagged in a tree on the world down below
And escaped his confinement in Hell
O Powers! What blights come from such little chances!
What holocausts cover the Earth!
What history happens from such happenstances!
To what fiends can Chance not give birth?
For Yetal, in wandering, found what he sought
His brother and leader, foul Sun
Who had also been exiled Earthward when caught
At the plot he so vilely begun
And the two swore an oath to avenge their lost lord
On the innocent children of Men
And they plotted, by evil, by fire and sword
To wage war with their betters again
Now these humans, unknowing, had made their abode
In the Rainors, a region so fair
That they never went cold, and a breeze always flowed
And brought tinges of salt to the air
They did not know of fire - they had not the need
Nor of hunting, nor farming - so good
Was the land that without even planting a seed
Glist´ning trees would burst forth bearing food
Then Carding, the Wise One, arrived from above
Bearing teachings in science and art
And he taught the men goodness, and mutual love
And to always hold God in their heart
And the people formed nations, with chieftains and laws
But they always were righteous and just
And there never was strife or rebellion because
They ruled well, and were worthy of trust
After years had gone by, some departed by sea
For new regions to claim and explore
Thus the Race was divided, no longer to be
Confined to but one lonely shore
And Uisceor laid open the lenghe deep
Even Gaother held back her storms
And from isle to isle the voyagers leap
First in bands, then in droves, then in swarms
To Tapfer, the Haven from storm and from wave
To Audentior, chosen by Fate
To Shireroth, land of the warlike and brave
To Alteria, braving the Strait
To Babkha, where Shahs might in later days reign
To Norfolk, commanding the ocean
To Yardistan, land of the gravely insane
To Lyrica, loud with commotion
South of Goldshire´s gold mines an island chain lay
Standing high in the watery brine
Called Asmodea then and Khaz Modan today
Richly blessed by the powers divine
It was settled by mariners, hardly and brave
Sons of Lochrin, begot by the storm
Who were masters of current and weather and wave
In each fearful and terrible form
These men formed a kingdom; among them they hailed
Their bravest as captain and king
After many an eon the royal line failed
And they prayed that the currents might bring
A new ruler to take their unoccupied throne
And restore them to glories of old
That Uisceor might bring, from a region unknown
A new monarch, their scepter to hold
A god heard their prayer but `twas not who they thought
Not the Old One who dwells in the Deep
But the foul Lord of Demons, whose eyes closeth not
And refuse the cool night´s gift of sleep
And he summoned a draken to bear him away
A draken with fiery eyes
And when Ulcharam´s veil overpowered the day
He took Yetal and fled through the skies
North the Vardia flew `til at last he arrived
Where the people assembled in prayer
And by means of his spells and his magic contrived
To be hailed as their king then and there
And he forged out an empire with steel and with power
`Til the islands came under his sway
The inhabitants call him a despot and cower
But Sun sends the armies away
First is Mirioth conquered; the fairest of lands
Is the first to be lost in the wars
Then more earth and more ocean is lost to their hands
Wide Amity, gate to the stars
The gold mines of Goldshire, aming
Florencia, land of the vine
For the dark Lord of Demons was secretly dreaming
That all Earth might embrace his design
But the gods´ shining champion saw and took heed
At the conquest and wars down below
And he realized the depth of his children´s great need
And to Salio Gemsmith did go
And he ordered four jewels, with high magic imbued
Four jewels, to be set in four swords
Four swords, for four heroes to use in the feud
Four heroes, to serve their four lords
The Sword of the Stormrider, flickering and wild
Its heart spouting tongues of blue flame
But the emerald-set sword was as gentle and mild
As the breezes that gave it its name
The sharp Sword of August, as scorchingly hot
As the thunderstorms spawned south of Breigh
And the Einlanzer Lightblade, within which was caught
The glow of a bright summer day
To the cardinal points the four weapons were given
But since force cannot conquer alone
The Microns, the race that remained high in Heaven
When their kin to the planet were thrown
Inspired by love for their sisters and brothers
Elected to travel below
That they might share their teaching and lore with the others
And the gods gave permission to go
Great ships they prepared, out of planks strong and oaken
And the sails were of gossamer strands
But were so tightly bound they might never be broken
In their flight through the Winds to the Lands
Like birds or like dragons they dreamed they might glide
Through the cloud-studded oceans of sky
`Til they came to a storm-wind or current to ride
So they bid hanging Tirbal goodbye
Alas for the race who abandoned their youth!
They are doomed to return nevermore
For the Powers have coded this unyielding truth:
None can ever go back to before
What lunatic, given his will or free choice
Would from even the cradle depart?
And would any but moon-stricken madmen rejoice
To dissever a piece of their heart?
Twelve ships had the Microns, twelve cities to found
And the first one to finish its trip
On an isle near Tapfched down on the ground
And they joyfully flew off the ship
There they founded their capital, Ptia by name
The world and the races to guard
With its sisters eleven, their purpose the same
To keep, and to care, and to ward
But the demons attacked in the Great Micron War
And its hero, both youthful and bold
Was King Istvan the Second, and never before
Was such valor in monarchs of old
Nor so mighty a talisman, valor to aid
For the Storm-Rider´s Sword graced his hands
And the battles he fought, and the allies he made
Were the hope of the Races and Lands
But valor and goodness are destined to fail
When a Vardia serves as your foe
They meet mercy with cruelty and truth with betrayal
And honor with darkness and woe
The demons drove forward the Microns fell back
And a siege was on Vladagrad laid
But Ptia was lost in a nightly attack
And its towers were never remade
Old Aeon says: Blessed are those who are down
For they have not much further to fall
Istvan took this to heart while defending his town
And stood firm on the towering wall
And he screamed his defiance against those dark hosts
And he summoned dark hosts of his own
With the Call of the Stormrider, raised up the ghosts
That his armies might not fight alone
Thus the towns of the Microns were torched and were torn
But Vladagrad stood tall and proud
So the Khaz Modan forces, in battle outworn
Find the hero can never be cowed
So they change their direction; turn round and march forth
To less steadfast and civilized lands
To Goldshire´s gold mines, which lie in the north
Where the city of Musica stands
Nay, it stood not for long, but by demons it fell
And with it, the whole southern coast
And when Elwynn was seized by the hordes out of Hell
Then the whole western region was lost
And they sought, by the strait in the Northland to break
A passage, to reach eastern sands
And go south once again, and a circle to make
For the doom of the Circle of Lands
Then Salio pierced to the Earth´s fiery core
And five pof fire-rock rise
And they bubble and reach toward the sea´s oozing floor
Then touch air, and break into the skies
Five Isles, as Shields, pushing backward the death
Of Tirlar, reversing its loss
The long-lasting Treesia, the westernmost Reath
Awful Shleg, royal Ahans, and Khas
The Five Isles! Their men mighty, valiant, and proud!
The best Tirlar ever gave birth!
No wonder their glory was not long allowed
To remain on the cloud-shaded Earth!
No wonder the fates had to see them destroyed
Lest their men become gods in their might!
For if Ahans the reign of all Tirlar enjoyed
It might blind the whole world with its light!
From the ends of the Earth mighty Mandorel sought them
His worshippers, champions, and friends
Unto Ahans, the City of Royals he brought them
He himself to the capital descends
To serve in the ritual of crowning the King
Larn, the Blackrocker prince, is selected
And the hymns and the songs round the citadel ring
To the palace (which Salio erected)
Then was started the war that might redefine war
Whole Isles made bare and laid waste
Made Earth shake as it never had shaken before
And the bright face of Tirlar defaced
The champions of Tirlar! The chosen of Hell!
How the hills with their battle resound
How each mountain and valley and sea-coast and dell
Is with smoke, fire, and sorcery crowned
But in war, as in peace, one could hardly expect
That a Demon would trust things to Fate
And would match swords in honor, nor try to affect
Its conclusion with secreted weight
Thus Sun sent out a Demon, in shades and disguise
To infiltrate the lands of his foes
Not only their tactics and strength to apprise
But to join them, their plans to oppose
The Demon Demerfin on storm-clouds was sent
And presented himself to the court
As a friend - though a demon, one led to repent
And who burned with desire to thwart
The plots of his brothers - and thus he requested
Some post in defense of the land
And the king, all too trusting, naively suggested
He be given thest command
Thus, their leader a Demon, the Islanders´ luck
Reached a sudden, unfortunate end
All their strategy failed, and their plans went amuck
Their defensive lines ceased to defend
First Khas and then Shleg were by Khaz Modan taken
And Treesia tottered to fall
And Larn thought himself by the Champion forsaken
And feared for the end of it all
But the bright-hearted champion forsakes not his own
And the hero had nothing to fear
(For Men never need fear that they struggle alone
With the Gods always helpful and near)
Round his warriors and worshippers Mandorel gazed
And divided the wheat from the chaff
Their courage he judged and their spirits he raised
That the Isles might live and be safe
At last in his seekings he came on a spirit
So pious and loyal and bold
So fiery and mighty no others came near it
(E´en in those great Isles of Old)
"Of all Generals, he shall be greatest and First
A Saviour and Prophet and Guide
All his wars ever blessed, all his foes ever cursed
And his name known forever!" he cried
This was Refin of Reath. In a wind in a dream
Mandorallen appeared to his chosen
In terrible aspect - his power supreme
Mixed with moonlight and odors ambrosian
"Go forth, O my child, your land to defend!
Go forth - well thou knowest the need
Lest the gods and their handiwork come to and end
Go forth - with gods´ help, and godspeed!
Fear and trembling seized Refin - he woke with a scream
At the greatness of God in His Might
Then he thought to himself - was it only a dream?
Or a vision, my course to incite?
But then what is a dream? Or a vision? Or thought?
But a path, or a change, or a choice?
Then no matter the source! I will do what I ought
And my conscience confirms the god´s voice.
Through the wave-tortured seas and the rock-guarded costs
He arrived at fair Ahans at last
The City of Royals, where legend still boasts
Of its glory in ages long past
But then at its pinnacle - roads straight and wide
Paved with marble, and marbg and his Councillors meet and decide
How to hold the world back from its fall
Into such came the First, unassuming in manner
Not copper nor iron nor steel
His strong body enclosed; neither weapon nor banner
Clothed but in a robe and his zeal
"I have come" he exclaimed. "Give me leave to defend
My friends and my country and lord
Lest the demon Demerfin, on whom you depend
Wound your land, at your charge, with your sword
The king heard his suit with a look of amaze
At the boldness and pluck of his mien
For a while he faltered, his mind in a daze
As he stared at his men and his queen
When his wits were recovered, he gave a great laugh
Neither nasty nor mocking, but glad
And expressed his delight, to his nobles and staff
At the manner of subject he had
Then he spoke to the First, saying "Friend, I admire
Your devotion to sovereign and land
But Demerfin is strong, and `tis not my desire
To relieve him of rank and command
Go off then in peace, but receive as my gift
Any sword from my arsenal´s store
Take the best - for a sovereign ought not to show thrift
To his subjects, when valiant in war
But as chance (or by fate - chance is merely a name
Used when fate keeps its presence unknown)
Demerfin, the traitor, at that hour came
For his troops and his arms to be shown
And he paused in the arsenal, viewing its hoard
(His mind bent on evil and doom)
When Refin, rejected, in search of a sword
Eyes cast downward, came into the room
On the belt of the demon there lay, glowing green
The Sword of the gentle March Breeze
As a symbol of power, by all to be seen
One of Four, and the oldest of these
As its emerald and steel the bold Refin admired
It flew like a bird to his hand
He said "´Tis the best, just as the king has desired
And I claim it, by royal command!"
Then he thrust forth the sword at the servant of Sun
Who countered with thrusts of his own
Refin gasped in amaze at the deed he had done
His hands´ acts to his mind were unknown
For `twas notdered the blow
But the will of his god-fashioned sword
Which now blazed with a brighter and purer green glow
With, at long last, its mission restored
The demon recovered his wits and he snatched
Up a blade in the arsenal found
The next blow that Refin dealt, Demerfin matched
Clanging arms through th´ armory resound
The First watched first in horror, and later in awe
As free from all conscious commands
His arms moved, parried, countered - his eyes merely saw
Foreign acts by his sword in his hands
In anger Demerfin closed in for the kill
He had mastered the warrior´s art
But the sword forged by Mandorel lacked not his skill
And it flew at the general´s heart
Pierced his breast, but the demon just gave a dread grin
For the First sought a heart there in vain
There was just coal and stone where a heart would have been
Just putrescence and filth for a brain
The sword wearied of stabbing, and burned emerald bright
With the fires of Tirbal above
`Twas not Mandorel´s strength which was seen in that light
But Laguna´s all-compassing love
It was love then that conquered, when iron had failed
Love that won, where no battle-art could
`Tis said Hate over Hatred has never prevailed
You can only fight evil with good
Thus was Demerfin conquered, and Refin in fear
Would have fled from his murderous deed
Had he not beheld great Mandorallen appear
And the god o´er the palace decreed:
"Men of Tirlar! Of Ahans! Your champion behold!
Harm him not - he is sacred to Me
Rather use him - his spirit is fiery and bold"
And Larn heeded his master´s decree:
He made him his general: Refin the First
Sailed that eve to the isle of Khas
In a fortnight, the fortunes of war he reversed
And inflicted on Sun a great loss
For the men of the Isles were valiant and brave
And their leader was pious and true
And when fighting their land and their loved ones to save
There is nothing such men cannot do
Shleg too was retaken, but Refin pushed on
Urged forth by the fire in histhe mountainous land of Fabon
Where the demons still held in the west
When he landed, he fought with his foes once again
Once again, by his courage, he won
And in Treesia he paused, some supplies to obtain
`Ere the next operation begun
But Sun, Lord of Demons, upon his jet throne
Heard news of his northern defeat
Dread and awful he rose, and his awful eyes shone
And he ordered his councilors to meet
In a Council of Demons, the Isles to end -
The Elders, the Chaos of Sark
And all the Infernals from Ifreann ascend
And the tropical sun they make dark
Then Sun spoke, saying... well, I don´t know what he said
From the base of his dark throne of jet
For his words, and his deeds, were so awful and dread
Even lorekeepers sought to forget
They expunged all the records, and burnt all the scrolls
Ripped up every paper and book
For too dark and too dreadful for innocent souls
Were his words, and the actions he took
Yet we know the results of his deed - every isle
Each home of the valiant and proud
Black mists and black vapors of Ifreann defile
The period that Fate had allowed
Was ended - the towers of Ahans might shine
Over Folcador´s seas nevermore
Only Treesia was saved from the vapors and brine
Saved with Refin, who stood on its shore
But in Treesia, the First, in that one moonless night
Went from fiery and youthful to old
His voice became trembling, his hair became white
And his fires grew dim and went cold
The Enabler of Life started wishing for death
And his soul became dark with the loss
Of bright, kingly Ahans, of tree-speckled Reath
Desert Shleg, and hard, rock-studded Khas
Alas the Five Isles! Five bright points of light!
Five jewels on the Crowning Plane´s crown
Unrivaled in beauty, unconquered in fight
Their hope and potential unknown
What futures were stifled? What empires unmade?
What thousands of heroes unborn?
What stories unwritten? What cities unlaid?
When the darkness enclosed their bright morn?
Woe! Woe unto Tirlar! Woe! Woe unto men!
Refin the First!
The lands of the gods now defiled once again
By Lest, and his follow´rs accursed
Woe! Woe unto Ennabruk! Woe to the gods
And woe to the Races below!
Woe! Woe to the World-Planes, the Seven Abodes
To Tirbal and Universe - woe!
The gods up above once agreed on a law
Not to meddle in matters below
But when so Cataclysmic an evil they saw
And the Crown Plane beneath filled with woe
Wrath burnt through their fetters - the War God, appalled
Grabbed his tripartite axe in his hands
With a trumpet blast Tirbal´s great armies he called
To deliver the Circle of Lands
The armies of Tirbal were gathered together
Encased in their glittering mail
Brimming full with the fury of war, heedless whether
Their purpose would triumph or fail
Just exulting in battle, rejoicing in fight
And itching for clashing of arms
Shining light off their armor, the Forces of Light
Came in droves to the War-God´s alarms
Then Folcador raised up a whirlwind that bore them
From Tirbal to Tirlar below
Made the lightning-bolts flash as a herald before them
And winds like to hurricanes blow
And rainbows as banners, untouched by the wind
And contrails to show them their way
And great walls of stratus as vanguards behind
That covered the sun and the day
When Sun saw these armies he trembled in fear
And Yetal turned pale in dismay
For they knew at long last that their hour was near
And their crimes bore a high price to pay
So they rode on their draken, in haste to proceed
In haste to shun battle and fly
Lest the champions of Tirbal avenge their foul deed
And thus craven, they fled through the sky
Now the great Whip of Folcador flew round and round
And the great Axe of Mandorel fell
And the Fires of Tineon fell to the ground
Where they raged like the fires of Hell
Nor was Istvan then absent, nor Istvan´s dread blade
Nor the Microns, their goal to fulfill
Nor the men of the East - every land ever made
There converged, and prepared for the kill
The fortresses fell without ht
The armies dispersed in dismay
The whole land was extinguished and wiped out of sight
And was lost in a night and a day
The high walls were ground into pebbles and stone
The palaces fell to the ground
Not a brick stayed on top of a brick - all were gone
And dark Ruin spread its wings all around
Atop high Mount Medivh great Mandorel stood
`Till he spotted the demons in flight
And he cast the spear Unis, resplendent with Good
Its point and its shaft made of light
It struck the great Draken that bore them away
Right between its two fiery eyes
A death-blow it struck - as they howled in dismay
The two demons fell down through the skies
In the ocean they landed, but swam to the coast
Disgraced, sopping wet, but not dead
Men who saw them but laughed - all their power seemed lost
And their aspect was no longer dread
Mandorallen beheld and said "Thus let them stay
`Till Fate, with her knowledge arcane
Either kills or restores them - I care not which way
Let us now return home to our plane"
Thus was Khaz Modan conquered by power divine
And the Isles by power demonic
Thus was vengeance obtained, thus did fate intertwine
Good and evil in patterns ironic
Thus the shaping of Tirlar in battle begun
And in battle will Tirlar be lost
Thus was destiny filled, thus was history run
But alas! What was history´s cost?
The world is a story, and stories have ends
And this book has an end of its own
When the First, dead of grief, up to Tirbal ascends
With the Gods, who in life he has known
Open-armed, Mandorallen embraces his friend
Who holds still in his pale, wrinkled hands
The sword with the emerald, still bright to defend
All the hopes of the Races and Lands
Said the Champion: "Boldly you fought, friend, and well
That which mortals could do, you have done
In battle you strove with the forces of Hell
Remained pious, persisted, and won
O, blame not yourself for the twistings of Fate!
Rest a while, and hand over your sword
And in Calaspier´s halls future ba- you must have a reward"
Spoke the First: "For myself, I can no more desire
Then the Battle of which you have told
Let ANDAN´s apocalypse relight my fire
Let me fight, once again, as of old
Give reward then to Treesia, the last of the Isles
Let another arise in my place
Let him wield my green sword, and enduring great trials
Bring new honor to me and my race"
"Let it be!" spoke the Champion, his eyes all alight
"Let the Second in Treesia arise!
And let there be Barons, unconquered in fight!
Let their fame fill the seas and the skies!
Let the times yet to come a new Ardeaspeg see!
Let them see a new Ahans erected!
And in that Golden Age of the world, let there be
A new King of All Tirlar selected!"
Then the Sword of the gentle March Breezes he threw
Down from Tirbal to Tirlar below
Through the skies for three days and three nights the blade flew
Like a star, with a bright emerald glow
Till it struck land in Ecosse, where dwelt a young man
A young man with a fire in his heart
And the emerald stone blazed with the fire of the plan
Plans for Treesia´s - and Tirlar´s - fresh start
Third Book of the Orchids
A center for Shireroth's minority religions
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