The Legend of Kian

[Rusty Radiator]

Supreme Master, tell us about the Sunsword you bear, they say you will grant me one request for being the first master to complete a lore circle since the Fehmarn, my request is to know more of your wondrous blade and why the old kings of Sommerlund could wield when you tell us it is only to be handled by the Kai.

Lone wolf stared at the young prodigy and saw the passion and curiosity burning in his eyes. He sighed and said in a warm and vaguely evasive air, "Swift Owl, you squander such a rare opportunity, the facts of this blade are known to any Sommlending with a fireside and a grandparent, you would trade the opportunity for some precious artefact or keen blade or exotic mission to be told a story available in the library?"
The surrounding Kai chuckled and guffawed mostly, some frowned quizzically. Lonewolf's face was inscrutable.
The young master persisted; "perhaps you mean this as a test: I know you will furnish me with whatever equipment is most fit for my survival, I also know that you will assign me missions to suit my abilities, I am not vain or childish enough to desire any more. Moreover, you must also be aware that when you mentioned to your friend Guildmaster Banedon near three moons ago that you had seen the origins of the Sommerswerd and of the Sommlending people that there were masters close enough with hearing well trained enough to hear those words, or was that an oversight? If it was, then forgive my impetuousness in exposing the imperfection of my betters and furnish me whatever trinket you think befits my arrogance. If on the other hand you intended that to be heard, then surely there was to be a time when you revealed that insight- I respectfully ask could that time be now?"
The guffaws turned to gasps, the frowns turned to stares, eyes widened, eyebrows raised.
The inscrutable expression on the face of the great Skarn changed to a faint wolffish grin. "your keen senses do you great credit young Master, it is true that is what I said and it is also true that I conceived of the possibility of a particularly sharp eared student catching those words in their claws and carrying them back for their freshly hatched thoughts to feed upon. Know this, I have no secrets from those ready to hear and the fact you are ready to ask means I am ready to tell. However, know this also; what I saw was not through my own eyes it was a Vision, brought to my fevered brain through many days of fasting and meditating upon The Stones. It may not be fact at all, just a way for my imagination to try and make sense of the wild and wonderful insights I am buffeted with when I gorge upon the primeval wisdom gushing through that Vault like a volcano! For that reason I hesitate to share my vision, and for that reason I beg discretion. If your love of gossip and boasting exceeds your caution at the danger of words scattered lightly, if you know your tongue cannot be reined like your steed then kindly trust your wisdom of your foolishness and leave this room." Two kai actually left the hall at this point!
"close the doors Swooping Eagle, and guard them, I know you will be able to hear well from outside." swooping Eagle raised one eyebrow then complied. "What I say I hope to confirm one day, until that day it could be somewhat controversial and lead to all manner of unintended consequences." the room had fallen silent over a dozen of the Kai's best and brightest stared intently at their legendary teacher.
" you all know of course that before this blade came into the possession of Sun Eagle it was wielded by the old kings of Sommerlund? You know then the name of the First king of Sommerlund, the one who led our people across the seas and drove back Vashna and his dark forces from this fair land?"
"Kian"said Swift Owl, as if uttering a prayer to some forgotten god, eyes staring back unblinking, thirsty for enlightenment.
"yes, Kian.
Our histories tell little of Kian, our libraries were built two hundred years after we landed. We were not a scholarly folk at first, the sages, scribes and magicians came later. We were warriors, sent by God to cleanse the promised land of the spawn of the pits. By the time we had a means to record our histories we had forgotten them, up until our arrival on these shores. The Durenese had libraries then, but I have read their ancient manuscripts, they say we were a taciturn and enigmatic folk, reluctant to speak of the past. One author hints that he thinks we may have been fleeing something more terrible than the menace we now faced, but that is mostly speculation.
Masters, I believe I have seen the life of the man Kian, who he was, who his parents were, how he gained the Sunsword, and how he came to rule our people and lead them on their great Exodus. Moreover, I believe I know the plight of the ones who stayed behind and why we must return to them some day."
All who were standing we're now seated, lest their legs gave way, their skin glistened pale and moist like wax, their eyes burned like candles and a small collective sigh sounded, like air sucked in to an ancient tomb prised open.

[Rusty Radiator]

Back in the Age of Eternal Night the first people, who dwelt in the lands of Ixia and other ancient realms that remain unnamed, explored the seas to escape the terror of the Agarashi. Many of the desperate voyagers died at sea, in the terrible tempests of the great watery Void. Those that discovered the far flung isles of the Kayunis however kept the flame of humanity burning whilst continual Magnamund languished in darkness and despair.
Occasionally, in the three hundred years between the fall of The Great Dragon" (at this point the assembled masters performed signs of veneration) "and the rise of the Magi, a fleet of demons or a flock of Vaag would sweep across the oceans looking to exterminate any goodly life remaining. The people of the Kayunis were a hardy and resourceful breed however and they had pacts with various elemental forces at play there, making them adept at misdirecting and hiding from most aggressors. They also had a secret that allowed them access to forces more powerful than the Agarashi thought possible and allowed them an ultimate refuge in their time of greatest need."
Lone Wolf observed the silent faces of his adherents rapt with tension before he continued.
"they had access to Shadow Gates."

[Rusty Radiator]

The people of the Kayunis knew 3 shadow gates, forming a great triangle on the oceans; one on a craggy storm swept spit of rock to the North, one on a sunken isle in the Sea of Mists to the West, and one to the East in a lush valley in the large and populous isle of Greater Drakos. Though they accessed all of these gates at some point in their history it was the last which they used most often. It lead to a city in the Daziarn named Haagadar, which I myself have visited, though it was much changed since those times. I found it to be a city populated with fugitives and wayfarers languishing in a desolate wasteland, but back then it was part of a prosperous and lively nation.
As a result of their excursions to alien realms the people of the Kayunis learnt 3 rules that have shaped the fate of planets throughout Aon since the dawn of time:
The first, known as the Rule of Resistance, is that any journey into Aon is always much more difficult than passage into the Daziarn. It is also many times harder for someone or something not born of Aon to travel into it. It is also known as the Rule of Sacrifice, as it generally necessitated the depletion of some powerful artifact or the life of a volunteer to allow a comrades passage back.
The second, known alternately as the Rule of Corruption or the Rule of Chaos dictates that any thing good brought from outside of Aon will always attract something evil that is of similar or greater power.
The third, known as the Rule of Union is that the forces of Kai alone or the forces of Ishir alone will always succumb eventually to the forces of Naar, united however they will generally triumph.
These three rules can explain much to us about the history of our people and the history of the world.

[Rusty Radiator]

The isle to East was hard to access without the aid of great inventiveness or magic. It lead to a world controlled by Ishir, it was here that a whole league of fugitive Kayunis learnt the arts of goodly theurgy before returning to this world to defeat Agarash and his hordes. And when their numbers were decimated, it was here that the Shianti first began their intervention, before they became able to summon shadow gates at will.
Other races also emigrated from the Kayunis, tempted by the Shianti to leave their blasted rocky shelters in the sea for the great lush expanses of the Magnamund main. After that the population dwindled in those distant lands, most Kayunis people living in the Drakos isles, so named because it is believed that is where the first dragons arrived on this planet. When the city of Haagadar became a refuge for outlaws and mercenaries in the Daziarn the Shianti were concerned that Drakos could become accessible to the forces of corruption, so they cut off the Kayunis with raging storms and destabilised its shadow gate. This was to prove insufficient.

[John Bryntze]

This looks interesting, before I read I would like to know... is this real Magnamund Facts or facts you think it should be or? thanks!

Update: ok I see in which section this is posted now, sorry

[Rusty Radiator]

Apr 23, 2013 14:22:47 GMT John Bryntze said:

This looks interesting, before I read I would like to know... is this real Magnamund Facts or facts you think it should be or? thanks!

Update: ok I see in which section this is posted now, sorry

It is intended to be compatible with established canon, answering some niggling issues in the only way that I can envision. As it unfolds you may feel it has strayed a little from JDs vision, but I hope to reinvigorate it.....

Take a look at my recent post in another Auxillary thread for a hint as to where I'm going with this and why.

[Rusty Radiator]

There arose in Drakos a dreadful tyrant. For several years a brutal cult had grown that worshipped an alien god known as Zantaz. This god was shown to wear armour as black as the night and wield a huge runed broadsword and a dagger that drips with poison. The cult had learnt (or been shown) that by taking the life of one human being at the right time, at the foot of the shadow gate, that thirteen humans could be brought across from the Daziarn. The ranks of the cult amassed and their deeds became more depraved and more open. They seemed to be bringing into Magnamund members of a foul army that had roamed the otherworlds through the gates the Shianti had left behind. The free peoples of Drakos demanded action, so their ruling council gave this cult an ultimatum, that they should leave Drakos or be forcibly disbanded. The cult appeared to back down, but a month later the Elector of the Council was assassinated and a coup was launched. The people of Drakos had underestimated the cults numbers, their fanaticism, the weaponry they had stockpiled and their cunning. A man from the Daziarn named himself High Warlord Okdrakaar and proceeded to rule the isles with an iron fist.

[Rusty Radiator]

Those that did not flee became subject to an increasingly brutal and militaristic regime that worshipped combat, weaponry, armour and conquest. They became obsessed through the decades with the idea of returning to the Mainland and ruling as a warrior caste, 'forged in the fires of Dragonflame'. The called themselves the Drakkarim. The Shianti were able to destabilise their shadow gate after the first few hundred soldiers had passed into Aon, but they bred with the Kayuni women and created a new race similar to the inhabitants of the fell planet they hailed from. Within fifty years they amassed an armada and found their way to mainland Magnamund. Invading from the West they rapidly swept through the peace-loving worshippers of Ishir. There black armour seemed to offer a powerful resistance to Shianti magic, and the folk of North Magnamund had become greatly dependent on them to fight their battles. The more the Shianti attempted to resist them or aid those doing so, the more the forces seemed able to wrest control of the shadow gates they had opened and send in fresh nightmares from worlds of darkness that worsened the fate of mankind. After the appearance of the nadziranim Ishir appeared to the Shianti and showed them the consequences of their good intentions, owing to the Rule of Chaos. They made their famous retreat, but the damage was done. Soon after their departure the Demoness Shamath brought forth beings of immense foulness, her children that ruled in one the deepest hellworlds, a bane to humanity for two thousand years- the Darklords.
Meanwhile, in the Kayunis, the forces opposed to the Drakkarim had regrouped in the far flung islands of the North. They had resisted the Drakkarim by stealth, seacraft and bravery and the Drakkarim warlords felt it not worth the effort required to root them out as their eyes gazed greedily Eastwards. When the armada departed the free Kayunis felt emboldened to strike back against the remaining drakkar navies. After the deadly fleet had attacked the Shianti rendered the sea passages to the East of the Kayunis impassible (no one had ever found land to the West), cutting off the Kayunis to have their own private war for hundreds of years. Battles raged, islands were lost and retaken, ships were ambushed, both sides got to know and detest the other, as brothers turned enemies whose existence revolved around the destruction of the other. In the end however the resources available to the Southern isles started to prevail, and their were few hiding places not now known to the Drakkarim. In desperation people turned to the fabled shadow gate of the North, wondering if this bleak, inaccessible passageway, from which no man was ever known to return, could offer some sort of sanctuary.

[Rusty Radiator]

In the year of 2828 the Drakkarim were descending upon the fair isle of Ulnara. For two centuries the people of this small but fertile island had united behind their monarch and resisted the advance of the drakkar marines. Despite only numbering a few thousand strong they employed the natural defences of their steep basalt cliffs, and the uncanny accuracy of the catapults lining them to augment their brave and cunning little navy. Now however, after decades of grinding down and driving out their neighbours in a relentless war of attrition, the Ulnarians were completely surrounded.
They made the desperate and painful decision that the Kayunis that had sheltered them for thousands of years must be left behind at last, that they too should return to the mainland, like thousands before them in this, the Golden Age of the Shianti. But this would prove no easy feat, for one thing terrible storms had cut off the West coast of the Magnamund main; the last people to attempt to leave the Islands since the storms started were the remainder of the Mythenians, they kept sailing North to try to find a way around the enchanted squalls but found only the wastes! Their ships ran into glaciers before they knew what had happened most of the fleet was scuttled. It is believed they settled there, in the ice and snow preferring that to the uncertainties of life under the shadow of the Warlords. The Ulnarians were more confident that with their great galleons and wise helmsman they could cross the Great Void to the West and find land, but there was an even greater problem- the might of the Drakkarim navy surrounded them, and would happily sink or capture any great ship laden with families and provisions.
So Prince Medan led a daring attack one night, so reckless yet brilliant it is a tragedy it is unknown to naval history. He smashed the Drakkar fleet, burning many with fire-ships, luring others into the range of further enlarged catapults, then drawing away most of the remainder with the Royal Flagship. His gambit was successful, but it came at a price: his ship was sunk, and while most of his people sailed away to establish the noble realm of Durenor, he was left a shipwreck, his immediate retinue dead or washed away.

[Rusty Radiator]

After days of floating through the sea, clinging fearfully to a chunk of the prow, and feeling closer to death than he had ever known, he saw land. He was surprised; he had not fathomed how far North they had led the invading ships before they had all sunk each other from relentless missile fire. (Actually, he had helped the last one along by charging on board and setting light to their pitch). The island he was approaching was jagged and unforgiving and looked just like the revered and reviled Nameless Isle of the last shadow gate of the Kayunis.
He swam the last mile with renewed vigour and dragged himself painfully across a shale beach and onto a small hillock where he confirmed it- across five miles of chasms and crags there rose, in the centre of the isle, a dark finger of rock, reaching thousands of feet into the air. Right at it's summit he could see a hole in the sky, not just in the sky but in reality itself-[/i] he knew he'd been brought here for a reason.

[Rusty Radiator]

Nothing more was heard of the lost prince of Ulnara, the Ulnarians established themselves in the Lastlands after the first great crossing of The Void ocean, meanwhile their brethren entrenched further North continued a long aquatic guerilla war against the Drakkarim island empire. They retreated to the blasted barren Northern chain of Kayunis eventually, after a few successes following Prince Medan's decimation of the dark fleet that were reversed after a hundred years, these rocky refuges became known bitterly as The Winter Isles. Great seismic activity around MS3070 wiped out tens of thousands of Kayuni residents drakkar and otherwise, who died in tsunamis then struggled to subsist in the diminished islands, eroded by rising sea levels.
From 3100 the hostilities recommenced and slowly, painstakingly over the next 300 years the Drakkarim reestablished control of the isles and occupied each and every refuge of the resistance, till all the Kayunese were enslaved. The ultimate goal was control of the shadow gates and for this purpose they forced the enslaved Kayunese, the Vintlending as they now called themselves, to build great galleons capable of traversing the Great Void and bringing back Nadziranim. Naar had told them these dark wizards could reroute the gate of Haagadar to the Kayunis and allow the remainder of the alien armies that sired the drakkar to pass through before they were warped unrecognisably by the tides of chaos. You must remember, though it was nearly nine hundred years since the original vanguard emerged and bred with the Kayunese, in the Daziarn only a couple of years had passed (at least in measure of a man's heartbeats: the Daziarn cannot be said to truly have years as we know them). They built vast docks using slave labour, but before they could build the ships they desired, magic was to return to the Kayunis much sooner than they were expecting....

[Rusty Radiator]

There were still a few secret places; hidden coves, underground lakes, cave systems, jungle clearings and suchlike that housed a small and desperate hardcore of resistance fighters. In MS3399 the dozen desperadoes housed in one such den were shocked to find, all of a sudden one humid, stormy afternoon a robed stranger bearing an infant come amongst them. The stranger wore outlandish garb, not familiar to the folk of the Kayunis at that time and the infant, who looked to be not even a year old, was swaddled in a shimmering golden cloth emblazoned with the image of a burning sun inside of a star.
The men reached for their weapons, suspecting perhaps some sort of shape-changing demon sent by the drakkar. The man held up his left hand, showing his palm, and spoke in a voice that was melodic and agreeable: "peace be upon you, My Brethren, I bear you no ill will. I am Magus Tor and in my arms I bear your future king, who will bring your salvation, and free the people of these isles from bondage. His name is Kian."
The men were astounded, but something deep in their souls yearned to believe in this wonder. The Mage explained that he had been born of these isles, but thousands of years ago he and his companions had ran aground on the shoals of The Nameless Isle whilst fleeing from Agarashi warships. Out of panic, and a strange compulsion, they had scrabbled across the rocks and crags and climbed up a spit of rock to a hole in the sky, desperate to find an escape before the Vorka contacted their airborne cousins. Like the men who became the Elder Magi they found themselves transported to another realm full of goodly and powerful entities who could teach them the art of magic. Unlike the Elder Magi however, who were transported to another realm in Aon, to learn over several generations, Tor and his friends went directly to the Plane of Light, specifically to that district inhabited by a fabulous race known as the Nuoma. Though this happened many ages ago in the time of Aon, Tor and the others spent barely half a lifetime learning whatever wisdom the Nuoma were able to impart. At the bidding of their teachers they discouraged other visitors to the Nameless Isle, occasionally stepping outside of the Heavenly plain to raise more jagged rocks or summon squalls. "There were those among us happy to give up their physical life and dwell forever in the lighted realms, so we always had the power to cross over when we were needed. One of the first things we learnt in the High Plane was the Wisdom of The Crystal Star- all stars it is said have great power, but that power is finite, often if that power is to prevail it must be prevented from wasting itself,it's power must be trapped- crystallised, till it has found the right time to shine. Nyxator was able to preserve his wisdom in literal crystal for a time when Union with the tardy Ishirans was possible. And the servants of Ishir have learnt to ensconce themselves in crystal palaces awaiting the new emissaries of Kai. Likewise my companions who did not become skilled in magic were able to eke out their life-force to overcome the Rule of Sacrifice."
The Mage had spells for stealth and for manipulation and for blindness and with his help they were able to perform feats of sabotage and defiance never before dreamed of. He was actually the last of 7 magi to leave the Plane of Light, the other six had been emerging at regular intervals over the past 50 years. Using mind control and cunning they had insinuated themselves into the government of various islands throughout the Kayunis, they had the ear of most of the drakkar warlords and were slowly fomenting unrest. This was not an entirely difficult feat- when the bulk of the Drakkarim left for the Magnamund main several hundred years ago they had taken the cream of the alien thoroughbreds, the black metal so beloved of their culture, and the power structure and vision of their people. Those that remained had struggled to maintain their identity so fiercely, being largely Kayunis of descent, having scarce resources remaining and in many cases feeling abandoned and betrayed by their brothers. The vied for power among the governors of the different isles and they argued over endless ideological differences: some wishing to follow the others to the main, some worshipping other demons and some wishing for a return to the freedoms of yesteryear.
So coups, rebellions and civil wars soon raged. Kian grew up a gifted warrior and a gifted leader and soon became a scourge to the drakkar, sinking ships, burning bases, freeing slaves and arming and training a new and savage resistance to the Drakkarim empire. In MS3416 Magus Tor came to him and told him that he had learnt well; he was faster and deadlier with a blade than any man in the isles, he could strike with chilling accuracy then merge without a trace into his surroundings. Also, he seemed to heal much more quickly than a normal man and the power of his enraged psyche could knock a man to the ground like a rock between his eyes. Tor explained to him that his father had been a great prince of the Kayunis and that he could unite the people behind his renowned royal lineage. More importantly, his mother was of an immortal race, the Nuoma, and while they had sworn not to interfere in the fate of Magnamund directly one possessing some of their essence could unlock the power needed to redeem the planet. They had crafted a blade capable of destroying a terrible menace overwhelming the humans of North Magnamund, and it needed to be wielded by a man who had their blood running in their veins. "You must go now, to the Nameless Isle, and return to the place you were born. We are part of a Great Springtime for our people, the blade crafted in the Realm of The Nuoma will lead them to a glorious Summertime. The soul of a dragon is reborn in you, you must have a claw."

Lone wolf spoke these lines, repeating the words of a long dead hero. He gazed at the awed eyes of his disciples, brimming with questions and thoughts. "the blade is of course my blade here, and the blood of the Nuoma it flows in all our veins."

[Rusty Radiator]

The import of the Great Master's words weighed heavily upon the hall and all it's occupants, as if they had been transported to some dense and vapourous alien world. Finally the silence was broken by the Master who had first prompted these revelations.

'So we are all descended from the first king of Sommerlund?' ventured Swift Owl, tentatively.
'Not just us, but most of the people of Sommerlund, the aristocracy of Durenor, and swathes of families throughout the countries of North Magnamund. A tree shoots up straight to the skies when it is young, but branches out countless times when it has matured. Not all branches will be fruitful however, in we Kai the blood of the Nuoma is awakened and it remakes us' answered the mighty Sun Wolf.
'but what of the Lorestones? Why did we need their wisdom if our powers are innate? And why did such a brave and powerful hero flee from the enemies he grew up fighting?'
'I have not yet finished this tale' said the Skarn.

All were silent once more.