Appendix 1 Clans at the Time of The Gathering*Ancient Clan Clan Leader LocationTorac Toran* Fëornir Cathar" Tared* Sacio (Myllyof’s brother) Myrmidar" Tyr Börnir DanlòsM’charon M’chuin* Toor Elear" M’char* Kéman Darnir" M’chak Owan SòlasVerion Veron Bouron Velara" Viraghon Menyr Ankar" V’ron Lucôs MenlenarGordar Goran Kelar Nolor" Gratar Dasea IV Nesmenia" Gor Eron Manar" Gronan Menrath III Nezea
Part One The Journey The tempest had passed. The rumbles of thunder were fading, and the flashes of lightning were moving away as Yvayn, son of Myllyof, son of Myrmidon, sat on the rocky edge of an ancient water-worn shoreline. He looked up to see the sun glowing in a rich amber hue as it set under the towering clouds. He had been watching the tide in its relentless march up the shore toward his perch as it has moved for eons before him. The white foam climbed ever closer toward him, hardly stopping before another wave crashed again. More rumbling came and went as the winds brought a cool breeze off the water. The smell of the sea wafted up into his face misting him with a soft sheen of brackish water. He wiped his forehead as one particularly large wave crashed against the rocks with a ferocious deafening break. His thoughts were heavy. He had reached the age of his sixteenth year when every Menian male must make the ceremonial Anointment journey. Yvayn had heard rumors th
The afternoon was warm with clouds slowly rolling over Yvayn’s head toward the Southeast; again, he was alone in the field looking at the ocean. He watched the seagulls hovering over the edge of the water looking for morsels of food. There was a gentle, cool breeze coming off the land; the storm from the day before had brought with it cooler air. Summer was beginning to lose its fight as the autumnal winds of the great northern expanse began to advance south. Away in the distance, he could make out the shapes of merchant vessels heading toward Careath with their sails billowing outward in the strong ocean winds. The waves were crashing on the shore leaving heaps of foam in their wakes. Large balls of gray clay were rolling about the sand with the waves pushing and pulling at them. Yvayn remembered taking some of these when he was young and making a fort on the beach. It was not long before he heard the sound of footsteps coming up behind him. He turned around quickly thinkin
The road out of Dymor turned almost due north. The coast of Myrmidar ran north before turning west to the delta of the Mondo River where Careath was located. The North gate of Dymor was guarded on both sides by statues of two former clan leaders, Enor and Torak. They were the chiefs who led the clan north to Myrmidar after the Wars with Raka. The road on this side of Dymor was lined with grass rather than low bushes. The sky was clear as the four moved quickly through the morning air. Ancient forests dotted the landscape just within view on the eastern side of the road. To the west the ancient fields rolled down to the sea. Small farms lined the road on either side and the houses were of a common style, rectangular stone buildings with thatched roofs. Each house had a front door located in the center with one or two windows on either side. Some of the fancier houses had a chimney on one of the long sides while other houses just had a fireplace in the center of the house with
Yvayn woke to the sound of a bird singing outside his window. A gently breeze blew the curtains as he listened to the song. The bird sang a sweet melody as the young prince leaned on his pillows. He began to think as the music from the previous night ran through his head. The singing and dancing of the night before came back to his mind. He remembered dancing with the Semians in a circle. The music was an ancient Semian dance tune played on the shawm, cithara, and drums. He could not remember all the words, but the melody was quite clear in his head. Suddenly he realized the bird was gone and silence permeated the room. The dream he had that night ran back through his mind. The thought of it disturbed him somewhat, but why it bothered him remained a mystery. He figured out that the old man was the same strange man from Dymor, but the young lady was still a mystery. The old man’s face was well defined but hers was a shadowy mist. Yvayn remembered hearing crying but could not
The harbor of Careath, on the Mondo River, had a lingering smell of rotting fish and sea salt. Seagulls and other birds flew overhead battling the breeze. The water was slightly choppy, and the sky was mostly clear. Down a long dock sat a boat with two huge fan-like sails being tended. They looked like the fins of a giant fish. Men moved quickly around the docks, lifting and throwing loads of goods on and off the ship. At last Myllyof’s group stood by the vessel that would soon take them away. The ship was clean for the passengers, but the crew was rather rough looking. Yvayn was shocked by the language of the sailors who were pulling in ropes from the dock. They yelled at each other as they tied ropes and set thing in order. He was still in a daze from the attempted abduction. “Gettin’ the ‘eck out my way!” one crewmember shouted at the young prince as he stood watching. Myllyof turned, looked at the crewmember and then motioned for Yvayn to move. “Son, it is thei
The river journey was nearing its end as the walls of Beltizar began to appear before them. Myllyof grew tired of the boat especially after Yvayn nearly ended up under it and decided to forgo Loctar and get off in Beltizar. The Mondo was getting wider as the ship approached the southern edge of the great lake. Lake Ozwanie expanded some forty to fifty leagues wide and was about two hundred leagues long. It sat along an ancient fault line that also served as the bed of the Mondo River through some of its course. The region around Ozwanie was once part of the ancient Semian Empire before the Wars with Raka. After the wars, the Semians migrated farther north, leaving the lands open for Menian expansion. Menians quickly settled the area, rebuilding some of the villages left by the Semians. The Great Quake changed the shoreline of Lake Ozwanie but not enough to keep fishermen away. The lake itself was full of fish, a welcome food source for the large appetites of the hardy Menian
After a short walk they came to a stone building with an old wooden sign hanging above a porch. Swinging in the night air, it read: The Red Boar Inn—You Rest While We Work. They carried the heavy emperor inside and set him down. Jullious continued to hold him to keep him from falling to the floor. “Can I help you?” a plump old woman asked from a seat across the hall. “Yes.” Velsusi stepped forward. “We need three rooms for the night.” “Let me check my books.” The old woman stood up and limped over to an old book sitting on a well-worn table. She ran her chubby finger down an old yellow page. “That won’t be a problem. Who is in charge?” “I am,” the old wizard answered and walked over to her. He signed his name. She gave him a long look and sat back down. “I don’t put up with any scuttlebutt. So, keep it quiet or I’ll have you all thrown out.” Like so many other workers she was not aware of much more than he