Atamaran Writings/Issue 3

Atamaran Writings
Price: 1 gold	Creator: Atamaran Writers Association	Issue 3

A Strange Dream

A man was walking around on a dirty area. It was very likely that many battles had been fought there before. On a distance he could see a lake. Lendreyn had been here before, only, it was different from previous time. He couldn't remember where he had seen it before, but it was strange. He looked around him, and saw a city behind him, close to the lake, where many archers were standing on the wall on formation, probably preparing for a siege. Lendreyn stood quite close, yet the citizens couldn't see him, they seemed to look through him, to someting in a far distance, waiting for something. As Lendreyn was wondering why he was there, he suddenly heard the sound of a trumpet behind the hills. He turned around and looked over the long battlefield, to the hills far away. A few dots appeared there, and then more and more. Soon, there was a whole army coming over the hills, all black strange creatures, and on the left of the line also some green ones. There were thousands of them, ten thousands!

Suddenly everything went fast. The gates of the city opened, and a whole army came out of it, all heavily equipped, with yellow, orange and red wades over their equipment. Some of them were carrying flags with a weaponshield. It was a scarabee on a yellow backgrounds. Many soldiers were yelling "For Sibuna and Suroh!". Lendreyn remembered the afternoon at the lake, when he was approached by an eagle who said he was Suroh, God of Birth, Protector of Life...

The defenders set up in a whole formation in front of the walls. They were brave, and obviously they didn't want to let their city go down for nothing. Lendreyn's sympathy for these people grew every second, although he had never seen them before. The more his sympathy for the defenders rose, the more it dropped for the attackers. He turned around to see how the other side of the battlefield prepared. Fear arose when he saw catapults approaching, being pushed forth by giant creatures. Lendreyn's sympathy for the defenders had even grown to such a heigth that he wanted to defend the city with the citizens. He quickly drew his sword and ran to the defenders' forces and joined a formation. Suddenly there was no sound at all at the battlefield. Both armies stood still, total silence; the silence of death...

From the distance where he stood, Lendreyn could hear the catapults being prepared to shoot. The huge ropes were being tight and the huge monsters laid rocks in it. The scene reminded Lendreyn about the time when he fought in Fronen against the monsters, and when all the defenders were set up outside the walls against another monster-attack. Not a single battle he had lost there, and he hoped that he wouldn't loose this one either.

Now the battle started. The catapults fired away the rocks. One of them struck a squad close to him; many died, only three crumbled back up. Another rock hit the wall near the gate. The archers standing on it were thrown away... They died a quick and noble death. Other rocks hit the walls or the troops in front of it. Suddenly he saw a rock flying in the other direction. Lendreyn looked around and saw lots of catapults from inside the city firing back. One of the enemy's catapults was taken out, and a whole squad of cavalry went down. Then from both sides the archers fired. Arrows were flying over the battlefield, many were struck by arrows, but few fell down, they didn't want to die because of the arrows, if they had to die, then in close combat, after at least showing their skills.

One of the arrows hit Lendreyn in the shoulder. It was a terrible pain, but Lendreyn was brave and followed the example of the people behind and next to him. He turned around and saw a man looking at him, or to be true, through him. He seemed to be invisible to all, yet he was struck by an arrow. Lendreyn didn't understand. The enemy trumpetier blaze the trumpet, the whole army became to march, to run onto them, cavalry on front. The troops of Terra Morte took their lance and put them in the ground, to pike the black cavaliers right at the moment they were to hit into the troops. Many cavaliers died quickly.

Close to Lendreyn a trumpet made a long, high sound, and all the troops were moving, first walking, then faster and faster, and then running on full force. The two armies were running into each other at high spead, ready to crush each other. When they came closer, Lendreyn could see the attackers: from distance they looked like Ottomans, especially the green ones, but now he was very close to them, they seemed like monsters. His Fronish rage came up again. A massive fight began; Lendreyn was totally oblivious about what happened around him: sweating due to the pain in his shoulder, he just walked around, attacking every black-armoured soldier he saw. The catapults of the attackers were still firing on.

Close to Lendreyn a trumpet made a long, high sound, and all the troops were moving, first walking, then faster and faster, and then running on full force. The two armies were running into each other at high spead, ready to crush each other. When they came closer, Lendreyn could see the attackers: from distance they looked like Ottomans, especially the green ones, but now he was very close to them, they seemed like monsters. His Fronish rage came up again. A massive fight began; Lendreyn was totally oblivious about what happened around him: sweating due to the pain in his shoulder, he just walked around, attacking every black-armoured soldier he saw. The catapults of the attackers were still firing on the city, razing it. In a glimpse he saw that a major fire had broken out in the city, and he heard many citizens screaming, yelling, crying. Soon he felt practicly alone on the battlefield, the attackers were winning.

Then another trumpet-signal was to hear. Lendreyn couldn't find out where it came from, but soon the gates of the city opened. A squad of heavily equipped cavalry, lead by a great General. They were holding lances straight in front of them, set up in a wedge and charged into the attackers forces. They came at high speed, and some were heading to the place where Lendreyn stood. There was no escape, and the defenders couldn't see him, but the attackers could. Suddenly a Rider went through him, not hitting him, not even touching him. Lendreyn realized something: he was visible and vulnerable to the attackers, but invisible and unvulnerable to the defenders.

The wedge made many losses to the attackers, but eventually they fell just the same. They knew they would, but they wanted to try one last time. Lendreyn was lying on the ground. The attackers' General had struck him in the stomac. He felt ill, but could still see what was happening around him. The General of the defenders that had lead the wedge was sitting there, disarmed, in front of his opposite General. Lendreyn heard him speaking in a strange language he had never heard before, yet he understood it. "You have won now, but we will come back! You monsters may hold our city for now, but you will never hold it long! I guarante you that within centuries, warriors will come back to liberate the city from you intruders! Now, you dirty monster, do what you want to do now, with less forces I have caused many casualties in your rangs, I am ready to die now! Kill me!"

The monster General drew back his sword, looked at the man sitting in front of him one last time, angry, then put the sword in the General's chest. Not a sound left his mouth, and the General died bravely.

A large hole was struck in the wall, and the Eastern warriors entered the city. Lendreyn was feeling the pain harder and harder, and he realized one last thing: Terra Morte had fallen. At last he fell unconscious.

He woke up and looked around. He was still lying the battlefield where he was struck, but it was different. It seemed he had gone forward in the time, but his wounds weren't cured yet. He looked around: like the defender General had proclaimed before his heroic death, the Monsters hadn't held the city. Instead, they had plundered and emptied it, and then left it. It had become a ruine. Everywhere he looked around he could still see skeletons from the last battles, even from the monsters. It wasn't hard to find the monsters and the defenders, the monsters' skeletons were far bigger. There were only dead people around him, it seemed like the Land of the Dead... The pain in Lendreyn's body became stronger again, and everything turned black in front of his eyes. He fell unconscious again.

Lendreyn woke up again and arose from his bed quickly. It had all been a dream, but it was so real. As quickly as he had rosen, he laid down again. A terrible pain was sensible in his shoulder and his stomac. He put his hand onder his clothes and felt blood. Servants ran in to Lendryn's room, and turned around quickly when they saw Lendryn severely bleeding, to get napkins and alcohol to nurse the wounds. Quickly he was surrounded by servants and nurses to take care of him, and all thought of an infiltrator that might have stabbed him. Only Lendreyn knew the truth, but he fell unconscious again..

From Easy T-style, Assisting editor-in-chief of AWA

Editors Words

Thank you for purchasing the third issue of Atamaran Writings, a publication of Atamaran Writers Association.

The Atamaran Writers Association ran into some bad luck during the last month. Two of our valued writers suddenly vanished, leaving us with very few people who contributed towards this issue.

Not all was bad however. We managed to get a guildhouse built in Meneriel, Eston. Hopefully this will bolster the membership of the guild and bring new writers to the guild.

In any case, I hope you enjoy this issue of Atamaran Writings.

Amaarent Vasata, Editor-in-chief of AWA

The Sacrifice Ritual

If you have read Issue 2 of Atamaran Writings, then you are familiar with the story of Tolvig, the 7up brewer who killed his wife and her lover. You know he was thrown into Mnt. Sinclair. Here I will tell you how that is usually done, as it is not just as simple as shoving a man into the volcano. There are rites and rituals and words and prayers that need to be said before that.

The top of Mnt. Sinclair is open and if you walk to the edge and look down, you can see the fires of Sigrid and the molten form of Lodril dancing around at the bottom. There is a stone ledge built on the edge that allows the guards to shove the prisoner right to the bottom instead of having the prisoner bounce down the walls of the volcano.

While the prisoners may have only been ordered to be executed, sometimes a few priests of Darkanism are there and turn them into sacrifices for the three volcano gods. It is a smaller, less glorious form of the Volcano Sacrifice ritual as the high priests of the religion rarely have the time to take part in the daily ceremonies.

In this case, the guards marched the naked Tolvig near the ledge and the priests covered him in a mixture of ash and a flammable dark liquid. They attached heavy stone weights to his arms and legs. As the priests did this, they were praying.

“Sigrid, goddess of death, take this sacrifice into your embrace. Lodril, the keeper of souls, take this soul and join it into the flow that feeds us all. Darka, god of life, give us your blessings. This is our gift to You. Bless us and look favorably upon your followers.”

When they finished covering Tolvig in the mixture, the guards shoved him to the edge of the ledge. One of the priests said to him, “You are given a choice. Do you embrace the gods or do you stay defiant to the end?” After that, one of the guards took a torch and set Tolvig on fire.

Now, the decision was Tolvigs to make. Does he take the long and painful way out by staying defiant and burn slowly to death on the ledge or does he take the short and less painful way out by embracing the gods and throwing himself into the molten form of Lodril? In any case, the gods would have him. So far, I have yet to see anyone take the long way. Tolvig was no exception, so with a painful scream he threw himself from the ledge and Sigrid and Lodril took him quickly. The priests kneeled down on the ledge and thanked the gods for accepting the sacrifice.

Some of you might think this a barbaric ritual, but is it really? Everyone executes prisoners. Some do it by cutting the head off, some use horses to tear the convicted person to pieces. Some do it slowly by pulling out the intestines of the person. We do it by fire and we even give the prisoner the choice of a quick and relatively painless death and a slow and painful one. In my view, it is a merciful way of disposing of people.

From Amaarent Vasata, Editor-in-chief of AWA