Emerald Chronicles, Volume 1 (book): Difference between revisions
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landlessness. I've decided to stay my course and will |
landlessness. I've decided to stay my course and will |
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arrange to replace a fallen armsman in a group riding with |
arrange to replace a fallen armsman in a group riding with |
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a [[ |
a [[Therengia]]n [[paladin]]. If he is as skillful a leader as I |
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am told, then you shall have more letters from me and |
am told, then you shall have more letters from me and |
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perhaps all is not yet lost for your Geoff to win the |
perhaps all is not yet lost for your Geoff to win the |
Revision as of 18:04, 11 March 2008
There are six volumes in the Emerald Chronicles. These books detail the rise of Graev and the Emerald Knights as forces protecting civilization from the dangers of the Dark Hand beyond Corik's Wall.
- Emerald Chronicles I
- Emerald Chronicles II
- Emerald Chronicles III
- Emerald Chronicles IV
- Emerald Chronicles V
- Emerald Chronicles VI
Emerald Chronicles I: The Ferdahl's Challenge
21st day of Ka'len the Sea Drake
Year of the Crystal Snow Hare, 181
Hren Nebban,
We've arrived at last in the city of Shard! Enfist nearly
fell off his horse straining to see to the tops of those
spires as we approached the city on the bridges leading to
it (it's set upon a lake, Hren! Imagine it!). Luckily
Roland rode astride and caught his back before he rolled
rump-round from his saddle. You would have shared our good
laugh! Even Enfist laughed, though it was not for quite
some time. Not since we left the familiar comfort of home
have we laughed so. The city's spires are of real crystal
after all, Hren, not just Elf-lies! I am so sorry you were
not here to see it with us. Do you think you will join us
before long?
Geoff Graev
39th day of Arhat the Fire Lion
Year of the Crystal Snow Hare, 181
Hren Nebban,
What a city, Hren! What taverns! The lasses are
sprightly, the bards bawdy, and there's a dice game at
every table. Spirits and lodging are quite costly, but the
Ferdahl's challenge brings a heavy purse. Everywhere
in this city there are gathered such an assortment of
warriors and fools from lands we have yet heard tales of,
Hren. Most of the best-looking fighters are Northlanders,
of course. The challenge's start has brought such
excitement that some cannot wait to test their steel upon
the foe and waste themselves in duels. Others spoil
themselves with spirits and are unable to leave the bottle
for combat. We three have none of the fighting though it
is oft Roland that needs some convincing. Enfist is
mindful to keep his head out of tavern-brawls and return it
to his beloved Gertwynn with the Ferdahl's purse in hand.
I do wish you would leave that girl in the Crossing and
come south. There are many girls here you will find to
your liking and all of them will find you to their liking
if you are among those contending in the challenge. Your
green-eyed is a sweet one, but don't you yet have love for
your boyhood comrades?
Geoff Graev
2nd day of Akroeg the Ram
Year of the Silver Unicorn, 182
Hren Nebban,
How does the new year find you, friend? I hope you're well
and that your celebration was as festive as ours! The
three of us took to the taverns and fell to sleep at dawn.
Next dawn we will ride south with other contenders to scout
this demon forest of the Dragon Priests. There is much
anticipation, as you can imagine. Enfist has gotten a new
tattoo for the occasion and Roland had his chain shirt
blued. I've spent the rest of my coin on a new sword and
the blessing of a cleric who prayed to Chadatru with
me. Should this be my last letter to you, friend, please
carry word to my mother and do marry your Alizia. We tease
you about settling as a cooper's apprentice but it is not
so foolish a choice.
Geoff Graev
16th day of Lirisa the Archer
Year of the Silver Unicorn, 182
Hren Nebban,
The hand penning this letter is quite alive as of the date,
you see, and I shall endeavor to remain so. You are right
to scold me for scaring you, but I admit to you that I have
been scared myself. There are frightful beasts in the
forest, the likes of which my most fearsome nightmares
could not have imagined. You may not believe in my words,
but the forest is alive. It breathes evil, and it is not
content to be the hunted; it is a hunter, and we are its
prey. From what unholiness is this place born? We have
had a few skirmishes, but our missions have been much in
the way of scouting and only enough of battle to make us
thirst for more. We will be cautious and listen to the
ranger we've been riding with. It does not take long to
see that those who charge into the wood at dawn without a
good scout do not return at dusk. Roland has taken after
his brothers and excels at taking the lead. Enfist's
nature does not set well with being ruled, even by a
friend, but his strength is ours and we would not have him
different. I hope you and your bride are well. With our
good wishes on your wedding, please enjoy the fine
frostgrape wine that comes with this letter. Thank
goodness for the Elves of this land, else we should be left
to starve upon the fare the Eloths take for food. If you
like the wine well enough, you can name your first-born for
me!
Geoff Graev
12th day of Uthmor the Giant
Year of the Silver Unicorn, 182
Hren Nebban,
I wish these words could be spoken to you and not sent on
parchment so far away. I don't wish to burden your happy
mind with such thoughts, but I cannot share them with my
party, lest I compromise their courage as mine has been.
My faith is tested every day that I should have the
strength to face the terrors that are born of that wood.
Strong warriors are shattered in its grip, torn asunder
like rag dolls by those horrible, reaching branches.
Some contenders are young and sound like children when they
plead for life and die in its endless night. I falter
sometimes, Hren. It is more than even a soldier of
Chadatru should bear, and I beg for strength. Damn the
people of these Southlands for leaving this scourge upon
our realms! I wish I had better things to send you from my
heart, but it is feeling very black and tainted by its
travels. Now as the dawn comes, I am late to meet
the others to ride again into the Hand.
Geoff Graev
39th day of Arhat the Fire Lion
Year of the Silver Unicorn, 182
Hren Nebban,
Congratulations to you both! I hope this letter finds you,
Alizia and your new daughter well! True, it ties you to
the shop you dislike but in the bargain you have a home
with kin to welcome you when your day is through. The
challenge goes well in the Southlands. Bjon is a new scout
riding with us. He is not as cautious as our last and we
have seen more combat, some quite terrible. The Ferdahl's
challenge is blood sport, so it matters less in the end how
many of us return than it does how many trophies we return
with. Our numbers are climbing and, as you can well
imagine, Enfist and Roland are locked in a battle to at
least best each other if neither should be champion.
Please don't inform good Alizia, but it is unfortunate that
your daughter should be named for her grandmother.
Hindrelgaarde is a very large and fierce-sounding a name
for one so very small and innocent. She is just a
little tijit of joy, not some fearsome spear-maiden, man!
Geoff Graev
37th day of Dolefaren the Brigantine
Year of the Silver Unicorn, 182
Hren Nebban,
I am so very sorry to say this letter brings you terribly
sad tidings, old friend. Our dear Enfist has fallen to the
shadows of the Hand this midday. It is now the late hour
of Revelfae and my grief has just ebbed enough to write
you. It was quick, as he was unmade and thrown to the
stars before his death cry reached our ears. He did not
suffer, as did our scout Bjon, and I can only thank the
Mighty's blessings for it. I am unsure if I will go on
with the challenge and you may be greeting Roland and I
both as we travel homeward in defeat. Roland has been
without comfort and is insisting that he bring the news to
Enfist's widow. He's been greatly changed by the loss of
our comrade, Hren. You would not know him, even if his
beard had not gone snow white. We were not such lads when
we came to this place, but our adventures have aged us
greatly.
Geoff Graev
18th day of Akroeg the Ram
Year of the Bronze Wyvern, 183
Hren Nebban,
Roland brings some presents for you, Alizia, and little
Hindrelgaarde. I am so sorry not to see you all myself,
but there is little for me to return for and what little
there is for me there would not welcome me in defeat. The
fifth son of a middling squire has little to build his
future on in the Northlands. Here I am no better off, but
I do not have to bear the social pains of mediocrity and
landlessness. I've decided to stay my course and will
arrange to replace a fallen armsman in a group riding with
a Therengian paladin. If he is as skillful a leader as I
am told, then you shall have more letters from me and
perhaps all is not yet lost for your Geoff to win the
Ferdahl's purse.
Geoff Graev
3rd day of Shorka the Cobra
Year of the Bronze Wyvern, 183
Hren Nebban,
You might scarcely believe what I tell you, friend, but I
ride for a Maiden of the Moors! The flaxen-haired lass'
strength is uncommon as she wields a two-hander in one upon
a mount. I should not call her lass, as it seems Ptera is
crafted solely for battle. The power of her command is no
less and there is wisdom in it. Some of our party do not
see it, but she chooses carefully when we fight so that we
have our best advantage. "Know your enemy," she says. Her
tactics are cunning, but we are all alive and still
contending in the challenge. One called Odurn makes no
secret of his contempt in taking commands from Ptera. He
is a Northlander, but for a gypsy's song I couldn't tell
you more with certainty. From his fighting, he looks
schooled and speaks like nobility, though he carries no
title. He sneers at her as though she were a tavern wench
and the rest of us as worse. I fear we have no ally in
riding with him, though his sword arm is fierce. I have
been sharing meals with the only Elf in our party, a scout
called Iceleaf (his given-name is in such a tongue that I
can neither speak it nor choose letters to form it here).
Upon first meeting, I thought his silence strange and
suspect, but Odurn says this is the way of Wind Elves. He
has never lead us astray nor failed to clear threats hidden
to our eyes. He stalks the shadows and slays what harm
could come had we not an ally in their midst. Chadatru shun
me for confessing so, but it's quite an asset to have a
skilled swordsman on your side not bound by our Code. Yet
odd as it would seem, the knight Odurn is far greedier in
his kills than this shade-walker. Hren, these are neither
the comrades nor the tales I thought would be mine when we
left home, but for better or worse this is the path I have
chosen. I will write again soon and hope you will ask
Chadatru to keep watch on your Geoff that he not lose hold
of his honor while honor all around him is lost.
Geoff Graev
5th day of Moliko the Balance
Year of the Bronze Wyvern, 183
Hren Nebban,
I have your letter of last month. Was there another that
you sent? I have made no comment because there is no
question of whether you should tolerate the old man's ill
words if you wish to complete your apprenticeship and make
yourself a business. Otherwise, you should begin looking
to find some other way to give your daughter bread and
shoes. Were you and I more clever lads we would have been
first-born in the house of Dunshade and retired to the
countryseat by now, but we were not so fortunate. Brace up
and turn your deaf ear to his nonsense. Last sunset the
challenge was ended, and this morning the Eloth Ferdahl
Alec called the contenders out to the meadows before
Berengaria's Touch to announce the final count. Odurn had
made his own count in talking with the men and was quite
surprised to find his count fell short of only Ptera's.
He has called for a recount, and there are tales in the
taverns that Ptera's charms are what ensured her victory
with the Ferdahl. I cannot see the root of his hatred for
her, but I suspect it may be made worse by her being a
lass. However, Odurn is unimportant now. The challenge
has ended and your Geoff is no champion. The Ferdahl
announced that a new legion, called the Emerald Knights,
will be lead by his champion and will occupy the southern
defenses. The enlistment rolls open tomorrow morning and I
intend to put my name to them. I have no Ferdahl's purse
to live on, and this looks to be work with steady pay. The
Ferdahl's purse will be mine only a coin at a time, but it
will do for a simple soldier's life.
Geoff Graev
24th day of Moliko the Balance
Year of the Bronze Wyvern, 183
Hren Nebban,
You asked for a glorious tale to tell your daughters of
their Geoff, but I'm afraid you will have to bring some
glory to the tale I have to tell you, for in truth there is
little of it there. On the morn of the Confirmation Day,
the enlistment rolls were read at the city's Great Tower
and those riding with the Emerald Knights were issued
verdant silk tabards and helms. Many arrived upon
horseback, but infantrymen were given shields painted with
a laurel and lion's claw crest. The legion was sharp-
looking as we marched together through the city's streets
where green and white banners hung from balconies and
mothers stood with children to catch sight of us. There
were prideful moments that morning, friend, and I came to
regret them soon enough.
At the tower-plaza, the Eloth spoke long on Ptera's might in a grand speech. Afterwards, the crowd cheered for so long it required him to raise his hands for quiet to present his purse to Ptera. The Eloths seem to have a great love of ceremony and this one lasted nearly four anlas before it ended quickly by Ptera's hand. I admit my mind wandered, caught up in the pomp, and I do not recall what was said at the moment before she spoke. Her voice rang like a bell through the steady speech of the Ferdahl and noise of the crowd. My eyes were drawn to the dais where she stood in the stirrups of her mount holding her sword aloft. Her words cut sharply through the haze of my revelry and pride. "Our cause is not fame. Our cause is not wealth. Our cause is to fight this evil that defiles our realms. If you do not swear your blood oath to fight the Hand until the last, you do not ride with the : Emerald Knights. Scars will be your medals, and your glory only another dawn. Swear your life and ride with me." She then rode through the crowd and left the tower-plaza.
There was utter silence and in one stroke my humility
returned. I told you, I am not to be bound for glory after
all. As we left the city's south gate, the trumpets
sounded but there were no crowds to cheer nor ladies
rushing to offer their favor to any of the Emerald
Knights. I have never known Ptera to have a greater defeat
before, as there were many in verdant tabards that did not
ride south with us that day. You will have more from me
when we are settled. The walls have been unoccupied for a
long time so there is much work to be done and I don't
suspect we should be gifted masons after the events of
Confirmation Day.
Geoff Graev