Page 2 of The Lost Legend

serpents. An ornate dais of silver and gold depicting the gold and ebony serpents locked in the eternal struggle for control of the fruits of the one tree.

  From here he marshalled great armies of men, called forth the elves from the woods and issued orders to the great smiths of the dwarfen realms. And when all was ready a messenger from the fabled underground city of Bessencast came forth and delivered unto him the Serpent Sword, Helm of Kings and the mighty amour of the dragon fires into which their greatest smiths had poured all their might and magic.

  Then, when thus arraigned in his amour, he rode forth upon a mighty stallion to the head of the forces he had assembled and bade them all, men, elf and dwarf to follow him to war and rid the earth of the evil that stalked their land. The ground trembled as they began their long march north towards the fortress of Hadar and all before them fled as ever onward they came to fight the final battle of the first age of men.

  For many long months they laid siege to the great fortress in the mountains of the north until finally the gates were breeched and all the foul creatures of the earth either slain or driven out into the wilderness. Finally Venhorn entered the throne room of the palace of corruption at the very heart of the fortress where Hadar the dark serpent dwelt and challenged him thus. “Dark Serpent, dark are your deeds and darker still is your heart, come forth now and face your final judgement in the fire and steel of combat.”

  Hadar eyes burned with the red fire of hatred and he looked down on Venhorn with contempt. “Mortal, frail, feeble man, I will wipe you from the face of the earth, your name will mean nought and your empire will crumble into dust long before I am humbled, your bones will hang outside my palace to remind all of the fate that awaits those who dare challenge me.”

  Venhorn drew forth the Serpent Sword and approached the throne. “Come then dark lord and let us see who will be stricken from this earth.”

  Long and terrible was that fight. No mercy was shown or given as they battled to the death, the mighty serpent against the warrior and his enchanted blade. But the serpent’s fire could not penetrate the armour that the dwarfs had fashioned with craft and skill, nor land a blow on the Helm of Kings whose magic repelled all he threw at it. In fury Hadar threw his very throne at Venhorn and watched it shatter harmlessly into a thousand shards of darkness and in fury cast down the great pillars that flanked it, but still Venhorn came at him and finally the hour of man’s victory was at hand.

  But in that moment when the serpent was undone and Venhorn raised his blade to strike the final blow, Hadar spun his treachery anew. He yielded to him and pleaded for mercy, claiming that he wished to seek the salvation of Vallen. Venhorn hearing the foul creatures request stayed his arm and his blade did not fall upon the serpents neck for Hadar, at the moment of his doom, had spied a chink in Venhorn’s armour and let fly a poisoned claw gashing a cruel strangely curved wound in his left side, recoiling in agony he let fly the serpent blade severing that poisoned paw with which the serpent had struck and staggered backwards.

  Howling with pain and rage Hardar fled that ruinous throne room and descended deep into the secret catacombs beneath the dark fortress where none dare follow, to nurse his wounds and wallowing in the fury and hatred of men that now consumed him, did plot his revenge and spin anew his hateful webs of treachery and deceit.

  Yet mighty though his poison was, Venhorn did not die. For the greatest physicians amongst all the elves tended him for many months until the wound was healed leaving a radiant snake like scar running down his left side. But neither did he fully recover the vigour he had as a warrior and never again would he ride forth from the great citadel he had built to hunt or do battle. Instead he became the first Emperor of the great empire of men, a king amongst kings who had no equal, a wise and magnificent ruler to whom all looked for leadership and guidance. And in his later years he took an elven wife, Coryn in the tongues of men, who had nursed him through the long fever of the poison and she bore him twin sons, Cyndon and Kenon who each bore the radiant snake like scar of their father as a birth mark.

  And at their coming of age to Cyndon he gave the Serpent Sword and Kenon the Helm of Kings and renounced the Serpent Throne forever declaring thus. “To Cyndon and his descendants I entrust the Sword of Serpents that he may call upon the knights of Vallen in the empires hour need. To Kenon and his descendants I give the Helm of Kings that he may oversee the Council of the Wise that I decreed from henceforth will govern all within the bounds of the empire for the greater good of those who seek its protection from evil. And know this as Cyndon and Kenon carry the mark of the scar so will all rightful heirs of the sword and helm bear this birthmark, the mark of Vallen, in recognition of their birth right.”

  And then he took the armour of the dragon fires and distributed it amongst those whom had he lead into battle in recognition of there right to claim a seat upon the Council he had created. To the dwarfs he gave the gauntlets for their hands had fashioned the weapons of Hadar’s downfall. To the elves he gave his boots in recognition the many long leagues they had marched from their homes in the far forests of the east to do battle. To the Northern provinces who had faced the dark fortress of the north he gave the cuirass for they were the body of the empire. To the Southern provinces between the citadel and temple of Shaula he gave the greaves, for they were the legs on which the empire stood. To the Western and Eastern provinces he gave the vambraces for they were the powerful arms of the empire.

  Then he and Coryn mounted two pure white mares and rode forth from the city towards the far kingdoms of the elves in the east and no mortal man ever cast eyes upon them again. Thus began the second and most bountiful age of men under the stewardship of Cyndon, Kenon and their kin.

  The Second Age of Men

  Yet the span of men is short and their memories shorter still, as years past the great battles and deeds of Venhorn faded from their minds passing into history and from history into myth and from myth into legend. Growing complacent in their time of plenty they forsook their pilgrimages to the Temple of Shaula to honour the tree. The old alliances between men, dwarfs and elves fell into disrepair and the knights of Vallen laboured alone against the evil that slowly crept from the north once more.

  Many long ages of men had Hadar brooded on his defeat and saw now that the time was ripe to set forth his treachery and undo the work of men. He collected the dark shards of his throne and called his spies unto him. To each he gave a piece and commanded them to plant this seed of darkness in the hearts of men. Far and wide they travelled sowing discord and distrust, dividing each house against another. The great trade routes fell silent as once more the brenalin stalked the land preying on lonely, unwary travellers, while Hadar recalled his scattered tribes and began to rebuild his shattered armies.

  And men heeded not the warnings of the knights of Vallen whose scouts had seen the storm clouds gathering in the north, for the Council of the Wise was split, north against south, east against west, dwarf against elf, man against all. For Hadar had planted the darkest shard of his throne in the heart of Kesth the rightful heir and holder of the Helm of Kings poisoning his mind against all who would council him, even Corlbus champion of the Serpent Sword. Kesth in the rage of darkness that consumed his heart banished Corlbus from the citadel and forswore the knights of Vallen, renouncing the path of the tree, forbidding on pain of death the veneration of Shaula.

  Thus when a mighty horde of trolls and goblins came to lay waste to Bessencast, the great dwarfen city of the West, the Council of the Wise saw fit to forfeit its wisdom and no man or elf came to aid the dwarfs save Corlbus and the knights of Vallen, but to late was their arrival to save the glory of Bessencast. It mighty forges were silenced, the great galleries stripped bare and all who could not escape slain, yet even as the horde celebrated its victory in the hall of kings, defacing the statues of its founders, Corlbus and his knights swept into the caverns in swift and terrible retribution. The Serpent Sword did not rest until Corlbus had stopped the heart of the gr
eat troll himself who lead the assault and in disarray the horde had fled.

  Bloody, bowed, but not yet beaten, Derfi, the bruised and battered King of the dwarfen realm carrying his great battleaxe of judgement returned to survey the ruin of his once great city and declared. “Know this. Like the great city of Bessencast, the alliance of dwarfs and men is forfeit; this city is lost as are the gauntlets of Venhorn lost in its ruin. Neither will the forges of the dragon fires be relit, or it galleries rebuilt, until the heirs of Venhorn reclaim them and forge a new alliance with the dwarfs. But to the knights of Vallen we are forever in debt for only they in the hour of need answered our call and they alone amongst men will be welcome amongst us henceforth.” And bowing gracefully, despite his many wounds, he left Corlbus at the broken gates of Bessencast to lead his people to their lesser cites in the mountains of the far west.

  Yet the sack of Bessencast was but a feint and Hadar worried not that the horde had been lost for a great army of orcs was marching unopposed through the provinces of the north to besiege the citadel itself. Yet Kesth heeded not the warnings of his scouts and called