The tale of Elvanion

As told to Amerlise by Phyro


   Long ago, as mortals reckon time, when I was
Young and had only begun my quest for the Power to
Form Chaos to my will I did travel in search of wisdom.

   Far did I wander through realms unnamed and
Unknown to the Wise of this land. It came to
Pass that, as I traveled south across a great
Desert, at a place where a man casts no shadow
At the noon hour, I came to a great circle
Made of thorn bushes woven into a stout fence.

   Twice the height of a High man it stood and
Thicker than the High Feasting Table of the
Lord of Halflings was it so that none might peer within.
There seemed no entrance, and, as I circled it
Under the blazing heat of a sun the color of
Molten copper I thought never more to find my
Way back, for the sun stood high above me and
Cast no shadow to tell the path.

   After a time, I came to the idea of making a
Mark in the sand lest I should circle this
Place endlessly. I broke off the slightest
Bit of thorn twig and placed it upright in the
Sand to mark my place and went on. When I
Came yet again to my mark in the ground, I
Despaired of ever finding a way within.

   I struck at the thorns with my staff in my
Anger and there came a rippling of the dry
Branches and twigs. It passed deep within the
Circle and vanished. For a time, nothing more
Occurred. Then, with no sound, the thick
Bushes parted and before me stood a being so
Old and wizened that his race or her gender no
Longer could be discerned.

   Fear rode in this ancient being's eyes, fear
And yet a Power such as I sought to find.
With a voice that sounded as if cast from the
Very thorn bushes, 'he' (for I lack a better term)
bade me to enter.

   Gesturing to my staff, it assumed a position
Of attention, floating half a span above the
Ground to wait my command, for I knew that in
The inhabited parts of this land, few greater
Rudeness could be given then to enter
Another's dwelling while armed.

   Smiling to myself inwardly at my own powers, I
Noticed a grimace of distaste from my host.
"Do you fear such power as I bring?" I asked
Him. He gave forth with a cackle that was at
One time a laugh but had been dried and baked
Into something beyond humor. Finally he
Spoke, "No, I fear not your Powers, for I felt
Their coming long days ago. What I fear is
Your youth, for those who are young and new to
Their Powers will oft display them in ways
That bring doom upon all."

   Feeling the pride of my own newly won skills,
I laughed at the old man. He abided my
Discourtesy and when I become silent once more
He spoke, "Enter the circle of my fears and
Learn Wisdom, if that be in truth what you
Seek rather than an audience for your guests."

   Humbled somewhat and mindful of my master's
Training, I controlled my pride and followed
Him into the center of the circle formed by
The thorn bushes. Here, despite the immense
Heat of the day, a massive fire burned and
Danced in a stone pit. Whence came the fuel
For such a conflagration I could not discern
Until, with a sudden revelation, I realized
That the being before me was also a worker of
Power albeit of a sort new to myself.

   We approached the fire, though for my own part
The heat drove the sweat from me in torrents.
Yet, the old man seemed small and cold, as if
No fire could warm him or drive away some fear
Borne of the night's shadow.
We sat on the stony ground for a time, each
Seemingly wrapped in our own thoughts, then,
With a low voice scarce to be heard, the
Ancient one spoke to me and unfolded a tale.


   "Long ago, in the time of my youth," he began.
"I was like you, young and full of the Powers
I had thought to learn. Here me now and gain
From what I say that it may help you upon your
Own road, for mine is now ended and my time in
This world short." He shivered despite the heat.

   He continued in his thin, reedy voice, "In a
Land far from here, where the rains came and
The earth was alive with life and the hills
Were green and living, came a man who claimed
The Powers. A Sorcerer he told the people of
A town he passed though, with Power so great
He could summon demons to answer his least wish."

   "They scoffed at him and called him a
Charlatan and a fraud and he boasted anew of
His ability to summon half a score of demons
To fetch and carry for him. And still they
Laughed and some taunted him and dared him to prove it.
Taken aback in his pride, he spoke and said
'Lo, I will produce demons and lay waste to
Your pitiful town. A sacrifice I will make of
A fair lass of your village.' And with that,
He seized a young woman and bound her to a
Hilltop where an ancient altar stood."

   "Now know you this," the old man went on, "he
Had Power, it is true, but his learning was as
A tiny spring high in the mountains is to a
Lordly river nearing the sea. In time, the
One may become the other, but for now, it will
Not put out a burning house, as my people once said."

   "The young warlock gathered things he felt
Would impress the locals and began a ceremony
Of his own invention hoping indeed the
Townsfolk would intercede before he went too
Far and give in to him. He chanted and prayed
And used the few syllables of Invocation he
Had learned."

   "The people of the area stood before him and
Jeered, some began to throw rocks and stones
At him and others wandered off in search of
Better sport. But then, with no warning to
Them or to the lad, a wall of fire appeared
Before him and the rocks and stones that were
Thrown melted and ran like clay."

   "Lashes of demonfire swept the villagers from
Him and roasted dozens were they stood. None
Within sight or hearing survived and the
Sacrifice was dragged screaming and alive down
Into the bowels of the world before the
Startled eyes of the would-be mage."

   "Then the fires receded and before him stood
13 beings, tongues of fire rippling from their
Mouths. Eyes like chilled coals that still
Burned gazed at him while blood ran down their
Bodies and burned the very ground they stood upon.
Then one stood forth from among them and
Spoke in a voice liked a cracked bell, 'You
Have summoned us o master. Give us our true
Names and we shall serve you as you wish.'"

   "Now at this, the young sorcerer fell down in
A near faint. For he had not the slightest
Clue as to their names for in his ranting and
Posturing, he had spoken many nonsense
Syllables, or so the thought. It dawned on
Him, just how deep the hole he had dug might
Turn out to be."

   The wizened man looked at me and cried
Out in anguish "Do you know, young wanderer,
What hells can be forged for one who calls
Such power forth but can name it not?"
I shuddered despite the heat, for my
Own training had oft stressed the penalties
Such powers would wrest from one who toyed
With them lightly.

   The old man nodded as if in understanding.
"Yes," he spoke, "I am that one and for twice
10,000 years have I dwelled here upon what is
Left of the land I mocked while the demons
Wait for me to name them!"

   The fire in the center grew higher and began
To take form. It split into four parts and
Each again into four more. As they spun and
Whirled about us, I gazed about me in abject
Terror! Springing to my feet I called to my
Staff. It sprang through the thorn bush to me
But as it reached my hands a blast of fire
Cleaved the air between me and it; when my
Tortured eyes could see I beheld only a line
Of ash upon the ground.

   The old man gestured to me and then at the
Thorn wall; it moved and a slight opening
Appeared. "Go now" he cried "be gone before
The 13th arrives or spend all eternity with me
In this hellish game to recall what I once
Said in jest!"
Needing no further prod I sprang for the
Opening and was through it, leaving some good
Portion of a cloak for the brambles and thorns
To wear as they closed in about me.

   Breaking free of their dry grip I heard
Inhuman voices from within the circle speaking.
Words whose meaning I could only dimly grasp
And did not wish to further know came to me
From them, mixed in with the ancient cries of
The old man as they tortured him in ways for
Which you have no name.

   For two days and a night I fled this world by
Paths that I forced my mind to forget lest I
Should find my way back someday. Yet the
Plight of the ancient one was burned forever
Into my soul and his final words will never
Leave me:

   "Summon not that which you do not know,
For it may answer you."


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