Words of a Song [Discontinued]

Chapter 2 - Stories of a Legend              By Grim Notoriety

It was nearing evening. The afternoon had passed rather quickly, not very busily but it was a calm before the storm. As evening drew near the men working the fields headed to the inn for a relaxing time and a good meal and drink. The tinker had finished selling only minutes before and now sat within the inn alongside the guards and weary travellers. People of all sorts were shoulder to shoulder as they enjoyed food and drink, stories started up and many hushed expectantly as the town’s storyteller, Dandre, recounted one of the stories of the Dawnlight founding.

“Now, them demons had been ‘round on our world for too long and while us good natured people couldn’t fight them, some living in the North had enough. They spent eight days in prayer, eight whole days mind you, without food or sleep or drink. They prayed all through the day and all through the night. When they had finished dawn’s light struck the idol of God and a voice boomed through the chapel. It said: “You have done well to attend to the problem of the people. To fight the demons, I give you my blessing and my knowledge. Go, fight the demons and bring peace to my world!” God charged them with killing the demons. Before the idol, the eight priests did find silver armour and weapons. After they donned the armour and took up their weapons cloaks of white fell upon their backs and the dawn’s light imprinted itself on their cloaks. They were the first of the Dawnlight Church and went out to battle the demons of the land!”

His proclamation was met by a cheer, but some among them were dark eyed or silent, only raising their mugs to not draw attention to themselves. Drinks once again started to flow. Throughout all of this, Rob and Conn moved efficiently and busily, collecting coins, pouring drinks and making sure people were well fed. The darkness the innkeeper had felt earlier had passed, now that the inn was filled with men and women laughing, mugs thudding together and the rustling of leather.

“That’s a mighty fine tale, Dandre. But the Dawnlight weren’t the only ones to fight the demons and they weren’t the best. Not even the voice of God himself could best the powers of the Singers.” Rose a voice from the corner of the taproom.

People swivelled in their seats and eyes rose from mugs to peer at the unassuming figure of the lute player, who sipped at his drink and sat with his legs crossed at booted ankles. 

“ ‘Spose you have something to say then…” Dandre trailed off expectantly, irritation plain in his voice.

“Tralen, the lutist. Wandering player and storyteller. You’re right, I have something to tell you all, for the Dawnlight are corrupt and less helpful than they seem. They cloak themselves in God’s name and do shit all.” Tralen delivered this calmly, but his dark eyes watched for anyone with malicious intent.

“We’re all good God-fearing people here, watch what you say, lutist!” Dandre sneered, taking a large mouthful of ale.

“Then listen well, for I tell this tale only once for each town. I will tell you of the Vraen, the Singers and how their fight against the demons went before the Dawnlight came. Woe to those who think the Dawnlight will save them. Be wary all, for the Singers song will come again.” Tralen began.

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Early in the history of the world, not long after it had been formed, demons roamed the lands and terrorised the people. They crafted mountains from the skulls of the slain and painted them red with the blood of the freshly killed. They tore off our skin and wore it to disguise themselves, only so they could kill without being suspected. It was a dark time.

The silver line in these dark clouds came with warriors from the East, mysterious and powerful, these warriors fought all across the lands until they tracked the demons to their home in the Darklands where the veil between our world and the Fae world, Anae’mii, is very thin. Back then, the Darklands was a massive continent, not the sliver of land it now appears.

They travelled south from the Elderwood, to the Werwood where they fought against demons and the Old Magics that once helped to form the world. In the hands of the demons, these magics were fire and death, shadow and pain. Against the magics, the warriors were powerless, but they did not give up. Instead they searched for the way to defeat the magics and the demons with them.