(An Epic Tale of the Fall of Man.)
“Do not let the frosty hands of fear grip your heart when the prince comes to take your life,
O king of arms and war.
No mortal man may slash away your sturdy soul, for what I say is true.
Heed these words:
Always keep your cold and deadly blade mounted upon your hip,
keep it by your side.
Keep ready your bow to loose its swift sharp bolts,
for with the rising sun you must let fly its deadly splinters.”
The owl lifted away into the death-black sky on heavy wings.
Korvas watched Klemnos the vengeful vanish before his eyes as guards drew him closer to the mouth of Sar’s great hall.
Deeper descended they, down into the bowels of Sar,
to meet the white haired king himself perched atop his throne.
Korvas swift and ready pushed away the prince and guard to meet the king headlong.
The hero lifted off the flashing helmet and let loose his golden mane to flutter in the air.
He knelt before the king of Sar and with fire in his eyes, his great voice boomed:
“Serses, white haired king of Sar,
I’ve come with tales of my exploits upon the battlefields–
where man and beast rushed against the tide of Hell itself.
My men are mostly shattered, broken souls–
twenty strong at arms and twice as many wounded–
and need a place to rest tonight.
We’ll be gone before morrow,
when Sarsus’ yawning maw peaks atop the mountains.”
Serses king of Sar dismissed the prince’s guards with a single waving hand.
He nodded to the hero but addressed him as a man,
“Korvas, fabled king of arms and war,
I would venture to hear your exploits but first suspicion grabs my heart.
You say you’ve come with men,
twenty strong at arms and twice as many wounded?
Then why not stay in battle,
take up death’s great honor,
and watch your broken souls wing away into the death-black sky?
You’ve come to Sar,
a city close to battle, you say,
with words sent from a general whose life was whisked away?
Pleonides, so sure he’s his father’s son, but takes up arms and armor when the battle makes him run!
Tell me, O king of arms and war,
what fierce beasts would scurry you away, tell me, I implore!”
Korvas rose to his feet with a dismal look upon his face.
He bowed his head and softly spoke,
the tale of the fall of man, “Serses, white haired king of Sar, you chastise me for running–
an act forbidden of a hero–
but without a single notion of the chaos Sarvus loosed!
I shall tell you of this tale, the tale of the fall of man,
when the earth opened up below and swallowed heroes whole!
“Sarvus’ night swooped upon us as Sarsus swept himself to bed.
We’d set up camp for the night, a hundred thousand strong,
Teides and his commanders took the center of the ring.
I was camped on the eastern flank with my ten thousand men and refused to heed the commanders’ plans.
So when the death-black sky began to fall upon Teides’ sturdy men,
I rushed myself to arms.
“Assassins sent by Sarvus—Tor, too—had winged their way upon our camp.
Teides son of Teidus was the first to lose his blood.
Following him next was Aramides son of Aramus, Teides’ right-hand man,
and next by Jaerides son of Jaerus, Klomides son of Klomus,
and finally the Trides, Lavus and Ornax, sons of Trius.
Each had lost their life to the assassins’ cold and deadly steel.
Sarvus whose name is Chaos shattered our very core,
then down marched the armies sent by Tor to cut the remaining ranks.