Lost Village (book)

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The Lost Village

by Trefinja Giln


It was cool fall afternoon in the year 157; we were having our typical meeting of the clan council discussing matters for our coming weeks festivities. The light-hearted discussions within the council's chamber was abruptly shattered by a young Dwarven messenger. The trembling and bloodied messenger barely managed to make it through the entrance before collapsing to the ground. His bloodshot and glassy eyes looked up at me as I stood over him, he clasped my hand and said in a dusky, broken voice, "Nenav... Dalar... village in the mountains... slaves... help them... help... them." He closed his eyes and breathed his last breath. I immediately called for the village Empath but it was too late, he could not be saved. In his right hand he was clutching a tattered and torn piece of parchment which I soon pried loose from his grip, and it read:


Khenea's Prophecy

The watchers wait on a Hero's breath.
To bring forth an end to darkness reign.
Death shall sow, and time will burn, before the Hero
comes.
Now time won't slay the ancient wrong
Nor part the evil's deed
In blood they plead, in heart as one, one day the Hero
comes.
When the new day opens and travelers approach
The curse is nears its end
All could be the one we need, so watch... the Hero
comes.
And so it shall... come to pass
What evil made, be undone
By the Hero's hand we do await, for now the Hero
comes.
But fail it could this rite of good
And lead us down the starry road
If the Kvika Heart is not retrieved, then death is
what will come.
So we pray the answer will unfold
The prophecy we do speak
We wait on one to liberate, our souls... our lives...
we seek.
Please my lord, heed Khenea's prophecy and send us
help. I don't know how much longer we can wait, just
follow along the great mountains on the edge of the
horizon until you find the break in the...
The rest of the parchment was torn off


After receiving this letter we searched for more information about this hidden village, but unfortunately we found nothing. I write this journal in hopes that someday someone will be able to resume the search and maybe decipher the cryptic message within the parchment.

Trefinja Giln