The Tale of the Swords of the
Ancients And Other Blades of Power
A Mythology
By
Kit Rae
In the depths of the Underworld the Dark One bred many terrible creatures in hopes of spawning a beast that could destroy the creations of the Ancients. He drove out most of the Dark Elves that made their abode in the cavernous kingdom of Lokonia under the Tellorien Mountains, but many of the Elves stayed to serve him, ensnared under his evil power. Above all, the Dark One desired power and subjects that would worship him and do his bidding. Even though the Dark OneÕs body had been destroyed by the Mithrodin in the four hundred and eighteenth year of the Fifth Age, a powerful dark spirit remained that could ensnare the weak willed, and it endured for thousands of years in the Underworld.
Through those ages the Dark One created many foul beasts,
but none were as terrible as the great Baelin that he created in the four
thousand and twenty-seventh year of the Fifth Age. The Baelin were immensely
powerful beasts that towered twice the height of the tallest Elf or Man. They
were covered in thick furred hides with great bony plates of armor and sharp
spined backs. Their great fangs could paralyze and devour with ease. The Dark
One created a Multitude of Baelin, but the greatest in stature and might was
the first, the one the Elves called Folkor. Folkor was twice the height of the
later brood and he sported wings that allowed limited flight, which the beast
used mostly for surprise when attacking.
Whence the Elves made their exodus in the four hundred and
nineteenth year of the Fifth Age from the Underworld to escape the Dark One
they later settled in the Realm of Ammunach along the great river Ragendeld
that ran from the Tellorien Mountains to the Southern Sea. Many of the greatest
Elven houses arose in the forests on the banks of the Ragendeld over the
ensuing ages. Anvari, an Elf of the Evesdrou family, was a renowned warrior of
those people and he rode his great horse Eglanti along its borders, protecting
it from invading enemies. The Elves were a fierce people and their lands were
forbidden to all but Elven kind.
Upon a day in the four thousand four hundred and forty-ninth
day of the Fifth Age, Anvari and four of his companions were patrolling the
edge of the marshlands to the South of Ammunach they came spied an encampment
of Men trespassing their lands. This was in the early hours of the day, before
the sun had arisen, for the Elves were night creatures that lived in the
twilight while men lived in the daylight. Hearing the ElvesÕ steeds
approaching, the Men awoke, and fearing they were being attacked they drew
their swords and bows and took to battle against the Elves. The Elves were the
swifter on horseback and easily overtook the Men, but one man fought fiercely
and grievously wounded one of AnvariÕs companions. At this Anvari, a most
skilled lanceman, sent his finest lance, Occsdrow, through the man and killed
him. The other men were disarmed and bound. When questioned the men claimed to
be of the house of Nattan, from an isle to the south on the great lake
Eldinyed. They had been sent on an errand to make contact with the Elves of the
North and request aid. The Dark One desired their island to build a fortress,
and when the Duke of the Nattan refused to give it up the Dark One had sent his
great Baelin, Folkor, to torment them. The Nattan hunted and grew crops in the
lands surrounding Lake Eldinyed and Folkor had become a great bane to them.
Many warriors were sent to slay the Baelin but all had perished at the horrible
fangs of the beast. The Duke had sent his son and the last of the Nattan
warriors through the dreaded Balach Marsh to call upon help from the Elves. The
DukeÕs son was the one whom Anvari had slain, and now Anvari had great grief
over this, for he hoped to one day befriend the strange people of the misty
isle.
Anvari took the men deep into the forest kingdom and their
story was told to the elders of the great Elven houses, but the elders refused
to help fearing that the Dark One would seek vengeance upon them if they
interfered with his doings. Anvari argued that the Elves should help the men,
for the Dark One may yet attack their own lands and the Nattan would be needed
as allies. The elders laughed at this, but even so they allowed Anvari the
choice to join the men if he so desired, since he had been the one to kill the
DukeÕs son. Anvari owed a blood debt for his wrongful slaying, and the Elves
were an honorable people in all things. The Elders armed him with their most
sacred heirloom to aid in his task, the enchanted blade Archeros, for no Elf or
Man had ever defeated a Baelin; and as many tales had told, Folkor was the
greatest of all Baelin.
Anvari gathered his most prized lances and he gave horses to
the five men of the Nattan. Together they traveled along the outskirts of the
dreaded Balach Marsh to the eastern shores of Lake Eldinyed where Folkor
hunted. It only took two nights before they found sign of the beast roaming the
shores of the northern inlet of land where the Nattan grew their crops. Anvari,
knowing they could not hope to defeat Folkor on open ground, waited until night
and alone he silently followed Folkor to his lair in the ruins of the ancient
kingdom in the Red Marsh, north of the inlet. Folkor slept there among the ruined
stone walls of a long forgotten people, thinking he would be hidden from
attack. To Anvari it seemed the perfect place to ambush the beast, but he
feared death for the ground was littered with the skulls of many men whom
Folkor had devoured and the grass was red as if stained with blood.
The blade of power the Elders had given Anvari was Archeros,
and it was a Blade of Chaos forged by the Ancient Ones in the Fourth Age. Its
hilt was fashioned in the form of its namesake, an ancient paralyzing sea drake
that lived in Ardere, the sea of fire. The blade was decorated with the form of
the drake and one stroke of its steel would cause time to slow to a crawl for
the one touched. If the user were to touch the blade he would be unaffected,
but by drawing a drop of his own blood with the blade he would gain the
foreknowledge to accomplish his goals; and this Anvari did.
In the morning Anvari returned to his camp and told the men
of his plan to defeat the Baelin. He then trained them in the Elven ways of
lance fighting from horseback. After a week had passed Anvari felt the time was
right and he led the men to the BaelinÕs lair. When Folkor settled into sleep
on moonlit night three of the men rode upon him from opposite directions to
confuse and surprise him, but the BaelinÕs great sense of smell had alerted him
to their presence. Before the men could throw their lances Folkor gave a mighty
flap of his wings and leapt high into the misty air. He came down and crushed one man, and with another leap he
landed on the other and devoured him and his horse. At this Anvari signaled to
the third man who charged from behind Folkor and launched his lance, but Folkor
again leapt before it struck. This time when he came down the other two men and
were waiting behind a stone wall and each sent a lance into his chest while
Anvari rode with lightening speed at the BaelinÕs side. Folkor sensed the trap
and with a mighty swipe of his clawed hand he sent the stone wall crumbling
around the two men but he was too late to stop Anvari who had slashed his belly
with Archeros as he rode Eglanti under the beast. Folkor tried to leap upon
Anvari but found he could no longer move with great speed for Archeros had
slowed him down almost to stop. Before Folkor was aware of it, Anvari rode at him
again from the opposite direction and sent his finest spear, Occsdrow, into the
beastÕs heart and Folkor was at last slain.
Whence the Nattan sent a ship to shore many days later
Anvari greeted the men and told of the heroism of his five slain comrades
against the Baelin and he gave them gifts to take back to the Duke as payment
for AnvariÕs mistaken slaying of his son. One gift was a bladed weapon forged
from the metal of OccsdrowÕs steel tip and the armor of the dead Baelin, which
he had beaten into its handle, and he called it Folkor's bane, the Adrasil. The
other gift was an impenetrable shield made from a single plate of armor from
the back of the beast, which he had boiled and beaten to shape with Elven
skill. Thus was the tradition born of weapon making from the bones and armor of
slain Baelin, and an alliance between Men and Elves was forged from that day
forth.
The
Tale of the Swords of the Ancients and Other Blades of Power and its previous versions, The
Swords of the Ancients and its abridged excerpts, and other forms, are ©1997 and ©2005 by Kit
Rae. All rights reserved. No part of this work may be reproduced, stored in a
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