Taynio Posted February 3, 2009 Report Share Posted February 3, 2009 First and foremost - I suggest, again, you re-read both the original and 2nd edition. Original - Original Revision - 2nd Edition This edition is completely re-written by hand. However, unlike the 2nd edition, this one will not contain much, if any, new information. (Subject to change, however.) I've also written more things into it, though, that has significantly increased it's length, as well as separating sections, making it easier to read. I also am separating it even more by posting it in more sections and chapters, for your enjoyment and ease. Because I do want to add more things, I will be creating a compendium of information regarding races, persons, places, etc in another topic (new), that will serve a similar purpose of an encyclopedia. -------------------------------------------------- 2009 Revision – 3rd Edition -------------------------------------------------- Storytellers: Search for Taynio Chapter one: Embracement Mestfan , the city of life. For over three hundred years, it has been the unofficial capital of the Empire; the official being Teracian, former citadel and stronghold of the ancient mer 2000 years ago. Large crowds of men, mer, and beast alike swarmed the bustling city of Mestfan. Noble, rich, poor, it was of no consequence. In fact, the only important thing in the entire village was tennels. Mestfan was a trading city, more resembling a vast kingdom twice the size of Nefrati, the mer province. It lived and thrived on the water surrounding it, virtually enclosed by fleets of ships at every edge; 11 in all. Also seen as the lawless city, crime was abundant but secret, as the city leaders would pay the Empire hefty amounts of tennels, allowing them to do whatever they wished. Within reason, of course. Indeed, Mestfan was not the most placid place known in the human world, but it was not the most reckless, either. Humans were known for their recklessness, compared to the other races. They were incredibly known for being territorial and claiming/stealing the lands of others, often razing incredible, vast, and beautiful cities, ironically claiming they wish they still existed. It was this and more that caused the humans to become the most hated of all the races. But not even that would stop the Dwarven race to barter with humans. Money is everything, nowadays. Stories of ancient races, legends, and myths fill every street corner of the lively city. Each day was a new blessing, for it offered a new chance to hear the exciting stories of the magical Storytellers. The storytellers were a group of people, each belonging to a separate race, who were lead by an elder male by the name of Aero. They never asked for payment for their fantastical stories, but, as luck would have it, sums of money came by the way of donation. The villagers wanted to make sure the storytellers kept in good health, so their needs are filled every day. At the end of every day and stories told, the group would put all of the money collected into a bucket. Then, they would draw lot by vote to see who would receive the most money for the day. They did this so everyone can have a little extra every week. There were only seven of them, so you can tell it worked out quite perfectly. Once a winner was chosen, he would receive his money and not be able to be chosen again until seven more days have passed. Even though they were in the public all of the time, and their number being 7, only two of the storytellers were known to the public by name. They were Aero and Aquan, his loosely-termed apprentice. Aero was a tall man with long, silver-white hair, and was the oldest. His skin, voice, and posture never once suggested he was anywhere over the age of 60, even though he had been performing in Mestfan for over a 100 years. The colour of skin was an odd blue, similar to those who come from the sea, and his eyes completely white. But there were no records containing any of those features for any known race. People in the city assumed he was deformed or the last one of his unknown kind. Of course, all of this added to the mysticism of his stories and appearance. His personal house was full of books. Books upon books were always lying on the floor of his shack, never a proper place to sit down. Everyone joked and called him a bibliophile, though it’s not far from the truth. The actual amazement and seriousness in it, was that never once did they ever find the same book twice. It was as if once you saw or read it, it disappeared. The presumed second oldest was strangely called Aquan Before his father died, he finally opened up to his son about why he was chosen to be named what he was; he was found as a newborn, swimming the Black Craeg, forbidden waters ruled by the god Aquan-ar, god of the moving life. (water) The entire group was utterly unknown, but, according to Aero, Aquan was surely the man in the group with the most mystery about him, Black Craeg aside. Expression was never shown on his face, yet somehow it came out when he spoke or told stories to the listeners. He wasn’t a very tall person, but he was tough. His muscles from youth never had faded away, leaving him with a bulk to which no one could match, without engaging in extreme exercise or fighting. Of course, these were only seen when his robe was taken off to re-enact some of the scenes of his stories. His skin was a slight tan colour, but wrinkled from age. His hair was extremely long and would always drag on the ground when he walked, blowing in the wind when he ran. At times, he could tie it up, if it became too bothersome. Strangely enough, however, it never seemed to show any signs of being dirty or having anything tangled in it. The other five storytellers never spoke aside from casual conversation and when telling stories. And the only personal things known about them are their names: Mikchift, Canisft, Inyan, Biris, and Horaq. It isn’t even known how or why they arrived at Mestfan. They’ve been there as long as any living person can remember. Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Taynio Posted February 3, 2009 Author Report Share Posted February 3, 2009 -------------------------------------------------- 2009 Revision – 3rd Edition -------------------------------------------------- Storytellers: Search for Taynio Chapter two: Strange and Queer Happenings The next morning had come. A cart outside fell over and woke Aero from his deep sleep. It was a frequent thing with him, he was a heavy sleep, which was odd for living in a city like Mestfan. Though, however, it may be because he rarely slept, so, when he did, it was peaceful. But, as usual, he was grumpy when awoken. His stomach began to hurt and felt like it was twisting and screaming out of agony. He quickly concluded he was hungry, of course. So, he undressed from his sleeping apparel, putting on his robe and other daily wears. Before exiting his shack, however, he retrieved a small bag of tennels from a lock-box. He, then, proceeded to the nearest tavern, which served its “so-called” breakfast at the given hour of the day. One cannot complain when they have, he muttered to himself. He walked into the tavern and the Keeper shouted at him, asking what he wanted. Aero replied with full remorse, “Give me ale and a sherm slab.” “Cumin’ ri’u’.” replied the seemingly unintelligent tavern keeper. Aero walked towards the nearest table closest to the shadows and sat down. Pulling out a bag that was made of black leather, something rare to see even at Teracian, the capital of the Empire, he cupped it in his hands and uttered silently what seemed to be a chant. Taking the leather bag, he cast the items out of it and onto the table. The contents were odd shaped, almost as if they were bones. He looked at the objects for a while with a staring glare as if he was somehow reading them. Quickly, he gathered them up as the Keeper came with his food and ale. The foot wasn’t good, but he couldn’t complain. He has had worse. And the way he ate, one would think it was years since his last meal. He stood up, thanked the Keeper, and left the tavern to seek a place to set “set up shop.” T’was high noon until he found a pleasant place to begin his daily work, telling stories of old. Groups of people followed him, waiting for him to simply stop and choose something. They walked silently, patiently. He carefully chose a place in the middle of town, which stood high to where all could see. Once the crowd was well enough in size, he opened his mouth and began to speak, the on-lookers becoming silently ill with anticipation. “Over 600 years ago, in the land now known as the Empire, there lived a young lad with a mysterious gift. This, of course, was not uncommon in the lands of the unknown, especially during this time, where magick and powers roamed more freely than they do today, and heroes were frequent. But this boy was not from those lands. It was across the sea where we find out boy, in the lands of the unknown, where no man dared venture to. The only things that ever came out or went into were a race of magickal being known as Elves. These specific Elves were known as the “Elie”. But, back when the lands were swimming with Dwarfs, they were known by Gir’ank, their name in the dwarvish language. The Gir’ank were always in search of man-creatures with mysterious gifts, wishing to harness and control the powers. But when they came across this young one, they did not expect it to be a mortal hun. The boy was tall for his age, standing 6’8” at the age of 17. And he had an odd glow about him.” Aquan came by Aero’s side to speak. “The Land was full of Dwarfs and huns who scoured the every last piece of last they could find. The human took the open flat lands, the dwarfs taking to the hill and mountains. The Gir’ank on the mainland was left with the trees and forests.” Aero, taking lead again, continued. “When the Elves finally found and confronted the boy, they-“ “CUVARIKX!” shouted a man, running with fear in the streets. Aero saw his face and the horror his eyes held. He knew what was going to happen next. Of course, queerly enough, he always knew things shortly before they happened. Suddenly, the streets and buildings began to rumble and shake. A single building fell from the south end of the street, where the man came from. When the smoke cleared, a humongous human-like creature appeared from the settled dust. It’s eyes were as red as the flames of Densgyr, it’s body like that of a Mintoaur, the hands of Siphox. The huge beast let out a ghastly shriek that brought everyone’s attention to it, immediately. Surely, this must be a creature of myth and fairy tales like the kind Aero once told. Indeed, this creature was known as Hephin Crux, the Devourer of Magick. It origins are shrouded in mystery, but it is held as being conjured by the original Persbyam summoners. It eventually killed its masters and stole their magick. It now hunts for more, out of hunger and lust for more power. “Vanquinz Con Abragou!” Aero shouted as he held hands toward the giant beast. A large ball of light was sent flying into the Hephin Crux. It was so bright that it blinded Aquan and the other villagers. The energy of the blast hung in the air, froze in time by the Hephin Crux. The monstrous monster flailed his arm as the ball of light was redirected and hurled back at Aero, growing larger as it flew. Aero immediately threw his palm to the ground, erecting barriers of Old like magick. The ball grew three time in size halfway towards its destination. But it was finally halted as the Old magick barriers sent waves of energy towards the ball. Ears all over the city went deaf, as the collision of the wave and light ball exploded in the air. Warm, bright, sweeping light flowed through the city, When the light finally faded, Aquan looked towards his master’s position, his face pale and body trembling. What he saw was not the old man he once knew. Both Aero and the Crux had vanished. He quickly looked around, trying to find evidence of his friend and the monster, but he could not find anything. The rubble, the buildings, everything was as it was before the attack. It was as if it never happened. The villagers of the city were also incredibly stunned and stumped in amazement. Many rubbed their sore eyes in disbelief. They stood for what seemed forever in silence. After a while of silence, rumours spread through the vast crowds of the city. Hordes of people ran up to Aquan and the others, seeking answers. But he didn’t know. And the other storytellers simply ignored the masses. Aquan didn’t even know what the creature was or where it came from. He never saw anything in the books, or in any history texts. The man gathered most of his information from Aero’s books when he was young. But nothing even remotely resembled what just happened. The master and pupil never spoke much of the others’ past. He was only 107 and spent 80 years with Aero, but he didn’t even know how old Aero was he they met. And since Aero never showed signs of aging, it was even harder to guess. Almost instantly, Aquan immediately went in search of his companion orators. He asked around, trying to find out if anyone saw them. But the only reply he received was that they vanished after the event, as well. But no one knows how or why. Torn, bewildered, alone, and depressed, he went to the local Kamu Sage cottage, seeking friendly advice. As he turned the corner, he was the old Sage(ess) kneeling infront of her destroyed home. He was stunned. It was destroyed, too? He thought to himself. Why wasn’t it repaired, as well? He walked up to the old lady and reach out to rest his hand on her shoulder, but was instantly frozen and could not move, or even talk. The old wise-woman spoke softly in a young woman’s voice, “You will not find any of your friends here, young Lord. You will not find them anywhere on this world. Old Aero had used powers long-since forbidden to perform, especially in these days where magick is mostly considered old superstition.” Astonished and baffled, Aquan attempted to ask her what she meant, but fails. However, the Kamu Sage replies “He is not human, or of any race that ever existed. Surely as a story teller, you know such things? You do know the tale, right? Oh, but perhaps you haven’t. Oh, my. Perhaps I said too much.” Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Horatio Posted February 3, 2009 Report Share Posted February 3, 2009 [ Superb!!! Thank you for writing!!! ] Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Taynio Posted February 3, 2009 Author Report Share Posted February 3, 2009 -------------------------------------------------- 2009 Revision – 3rd Edition -------------------------------------------------- Storytellers: Search for Taynio Chapter three: Is it too late? “Old Aero never told anyone of his or of what he knew. Kept it only to himself all these years, he did.” “Ah, but perchance I know of his fabled story, then, eh? Tell me, young Lord, be ye interested in his tale of tales? Oh, yes, it is a most fascinating legend. Sad, but rather interesting, yes.” Aquan attempted to move again, but only this time, he finally could. Weak, his body trembled and shook as he fell back to the solid ground, landing on his knees. He lowered his head, resting his body, allowing his hands to lie on the dirt floor. After a few minutes of silent resting, he finally looked up only to behold the Wise-woman an inch-away from his, eyes staring into each other. Her eyes, silent, aged, and cold screamed in agony, in horror. Each second was a new piece of her history. But, in the end, they always cried, yet there were no tears. Long-gazing, he couldn’t turn away from her. It felt like his soul and body were being drawn, sucked into her. Finally, he fell, blacking out. The Sage stood up and looked over his lifeless body. She held her hands out above him as a faint white aura began to emit from her eyes, Aquan’s body resonating the same. “Necta Sun Kamuoish!” * * * * * * * * * * No… What have I done? I- I killed a man… How could I? I…I don’t understand. I don’t remember doing it. It doesn’t make any sense. But there he was, dead, cold… And I was covered in his blood… From the balcony of the keep looking out into the old battlefield, a dark figure slowly emerges from the shadows. It is a young man with shoulder-length, wind-braided, blonde hair, glowing every so faintly. The sun slowly rises over the horizon, light at last revealing the specter’s body. He dons a dark green cloak, and light-leather armour pieces. Resting his blood-stained hands, he grips the railing, quivering with sadness. His face was stern, pale, drown in disbelief of what he saw. His nose and ears were of the pointed kind, much like a mer, yet he lived in a city complete of man. Aside from the leather, underneath laid a dark, royal purple tunic. And on his neck rested a single necklace, bearing a peculiar symbol of an eye with a book resting in the pupil. The stranger quickly turns around, startled, scared, and nervous as knocks on the wooden to the room were seized, and it become large poundings. They were breaking it down. The guards finally break in, throwing the door aside, to see the figure standing on the railing of the balcony. He quickly turns around, glancing behind as if to tell them to follow, and leaps. The guards rush to the edge, trying to find if he landed, and where. But they could not see anything. Suddenly, the dark-figure soars from out beneath them like a hawk, flying into the sky. One guard becomes ignorantly enraged and throws his sword at the figure, trying to hit it. But he only ends up missing. * * * * * * * * * * Aquan awakens for the second time. Only this time, the cave is completely lit by millions of candles inside a million skulls. The old woman turns around from a table she is working at and smiles faintly, gently welcoming, “Good morning, young Lord. Sleep well did ye? Ah, I see you are interested in the many skulls, yes. Oh, but do not be alarmed. They are skulls, indeed, but they’re not what they seem. Oh, no, not by any means.” She stands up and walks around the room, stopping and raising her hands as if to show them off. “These are the skull of the Heroes of the worlds, past and present. In fact, they are not as much literal skulls as they are containers. In truth, it is the magickal candles inside that is the real show. These candles will never burn out until the body and spirit is called back from the under-world, for the hero to yet save the world again. A rather remarkable and delightful system of the Old, in my opinion. Do you not think so?” Rubbing his head with his hands, he looks around once more. But he only replies with, “Where am I? What did you do to me? And who exactly are you?” The Kamu Sage smiles, laughing slightly, but then she straightens up, walking over towards Aquan and sits next to him on the dirt floor. She whispers softly unto him. “You are in the Hall of the Old Races. Each hero is from a difference race. Thousands of skulls, thousands of races. Many died out long ago. Most are never even mentioned in today’s texts. Even fewer know about them. But, do you see those 6 right there? Those pearl white skull shinning in the light are of 7 special people who have not died since the beginning of the worlds. They are like Guardians, Angels, or so-called gods with extraordinary powers, wisdom, strength, and knowledge. But, that came at a price, as does all.” “As powerful as they were, they were held the highest risk to magick’s mystery. There were so many consequences. Do you see the large one in the middle? That is the creator of many things. He was and still is their leader, of all the heroes. He was the one who formed this very cavern, as well. Every time a hero was chosen, every time a world needed to be saved or he was behind it all like the cogs on a machine that makes it work. His name has been translated to so many things. The most known is Amundoshanti. Other, less common names were Rapshyn, Kiatok, and the more legendary Aero. But all of these were from the new races, who never cared to actually study history. Yes, indeed, but his true, real name was Taynio, Master of the Light. Hm? Oh, yes, Master. Wh-Why? Oh, well, I do not know the answer to that. Perchance light is being used to mean all of existence. Or perhaps it could simply mean just that; light.” Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Taynio Posted February 4, 2009 Author Report Share Posted February 4, 2009 The former story ended near the end of this one. So, from here on out, it will all be new, fresh stuff. (Some new stuff is added here.) -------------------------------------------------- 2009 Revision – 3rd Edition -------------------------------------------------- Storytellers: Search for Taynio Chapter four: Time is all we have “The guardians are not allowed to heal people, wage wars, or use destructive magick against those they were not instructed to by Taynio. Innocents must not be harmed. Taynio was never really a guardian, per say, though. He was the leader, yes, but he was spiritually connected to the worlds. He was, in a sense, the walking, talking, breathing form of the Spirit of the Worlds. But he was still subject to the powers and such. Hm? Yes, yes, the healing. Of course they were not allowed to heal people, because it would interfere with nature, but they did anyways. They were helpers and saviours of life. Nothing happened, though, that we know of, yet. It was all for the sake of the world and to ward off “evil.” It’s presumed okay, now. Now, quiet. It is time for you to eat. You’re tired and hungry; do not try to fox me. I am not as stupid(old) as you perceive me to be.” Aquan looked bafflingly at the skull, “So you’re saying my Aero is Taynio? Oh, my mistake, I just assumed since the names. But you said seven skulls, where is the seventh?” The Kamu sage looked down, raised her head, and gazed back at Aquan. Sighing, she spoke in a low, gentle voice, "That is one of the unfortunate consequences of using their powers. I already told you that, yes, but I didn’t tell you what kind of powers and the consequences to befall if used. But, that’s for another time.” Aquan and the Kamu Sage stand up. He thinks to ask her name but she looks back at him and says “Gaelinfal. Now, come.” * * * * * * * * * * Jensil, the Captain of the Guard, and the other officers storm down the castle hall into the throne room, their faces showing fear. Jen unsheathes his sword and kneels infront of Queen Brah. “Your Highness, The king was murdered in his noon-sleep. The intruder was on the balcony when we finally broke the door down. He leapt off and flew into the sky. We were not able to capture him.” The Queen, heart-broken, stares at her Captain as tears stream down her face, “Do you know who it was that killed my husband?” “No, My Queen. We could not identify him. I will personally conduct the search for the killer. You have my word.” He bowed his head and stood up, walking out of the throne room, his officers in-train When the soldiers reached the barracks, Second in Command Kuora pulled Jensil to his side, whispering, “What do you think you are doing? You know who killed him! What in the world were you thinking when you chose not to tell her that her very son, the prince, killed his father?” Jensil stared into the eyes of Kuora, and calmly spoke, “How dare I? She has just lost her husband. Telling her Vlad killed him would cause too much strife. My job as the captain is to protect the royal family, in all ways possible, even if it’s to protect their emotional state. You’re like a little brother to me, Kuora. You always came to me for council. You trusted me before now. You’ve still a lot to learn if you want my position.” After finishing his verse, he turned around and walked off. Kuora slumped back against the wall and slide down it, sitting on the ground. After leaving his XO, Jensil returned the queen to ask for leave, which was granted. And so, he climbed upon his horse and set out. But when the Queen asked his reason, he simply said “I need a break.” His true reason is unknown. If you’re going to run… I am going to find you. * * * * * * * * * Aquan falls asleep shortly after eating a large meal. Before he wakes up, the Wise-woman leaves him a message in a dream. “It is time you went back. The people of Mestfan need someone they can look up to, someone who has knowledge and wisdom. Their leaders are none of that. And the other storytellers have disappeared, as well. You will be the only one left. But do not worry, young Lord. More will come to find you when it is time. Rest well, and take care…” Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Horatio Posted February 5, 2009 Report Share Posted February 5, 2009 [ Stellar story!!! Thank you for continuing! I wish I could write like this. ] Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
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