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Chivalry Is Not Dead!

Join a group of young nobles as they listen to tales told by the mysterious Darmir. Tales that contain wisdom about the struggles of life and death, things natural and not so natural, and all things between. Tales that are told with the knowing fact of actual exploits from adventures so far from the commonplace as to make one think they were but fantasy. Knightly Tales is written with an unique writing style that transports the reader to a seat before Darmir’s crackling fire and becomes a part of the Knightly Tales.

The First Knightly Tale : Vortah. Can the once knight, Allef along with Marist, an arrogant young female elf, stop a massive, ancient dragon before it razes the land of Norval?

The Second Knightly Tale : Brookestone the Vampyre. The Vampyre the town of Liha is under assault by a vampyre lord and his undead creatures. Allef must confront his one time companion as he attempts to save Liha and the life of Marist.

The Third Knightly Tale: The Doppleganger. Mysterious killings shock the town of Mount Bretia. A young wife discovers that her husband is not who he pretends to be. But just who, or what, is responsible for the slaughters?

The Fourth Knightly Tale: The Sea Monster. A badlands barbarian is confronted with pirates and a sea serpent. But can he determine which one deserves the edge of his blade?

The Fifth Knightly Tale: Aegis of Love. The mate of Vortah the dragon is searching for his killer. Can Allef stay her need for revenge in order to save Marist from a wizard that wants more than just treasure?

The land of Norval is near the midway point of the other hemisphere of our world and much farther east, where the sun is born every morn. Norval is located between four grand mountain ranges that form a huge, rocky ring, with Norval being all the lands in the center. That realm is a mixture of fertile green pasture, deep wooded forests, and great misty swamps.

To the north of Norval lay the dark-gray rocks of the Spine of Korath. That length of jutting rock is said to be the remains of the ancient god, Korath, who was cut down at the beginning of time when the gods did war among each other. Those who traveled the upward-thrusting rocks confirmed that the mountain range appeared to be the broken spine of some giant. Others could well account for the mysteries surrounding the area, including the strange creatures and sounds that came from within the fissures and caves between the boulders. Although there were some places in Norval that could be said to give off the air of evil, the Spine of Korath had an air of danger and death, natural and not.

Toward the resting place of the sun in the west lay the grand Crystal Mountains, a natural wonder without equal in the world I have traveled. The entire mountain range is made of rock permeated by crystals, from single gems the size of a large man to those as small as grains of sand. Mines dotted that mountain range, worked mostly by dwarves, but also, on occasion, by other creatures and beings. As beautiful as those crystal formations were, the great splendor of the mountains did not show itself until the sun was born or went to its rest.

When the first light of the newborn sun struck the Crystal Mountains, the entire sky of Norval momentarily shone with all the colors of the rainbow. When the sun went to rest, the heavens would glow once again, but in a fiery red that set the sky ablaze with ruby light before turning into deep purple and eventually fading into the blackness of night.

The wonderful Blue Mountains, for which they were aptly named, lay to the south. It was once thought that those mountains were blue, because they reached high enough to touch the sky and steal its color. Such was untrue, of course. It is now known that the rocks and soil were blue, because of the enrichment of a mineral abundant in copper and sulfur. Still, the idea that the bright-blue color came from the sky was a popular, if incorrect, romantic notion.

Where the sun was born in the east was the darkest of the mountain ranges, the Red Mountains. The mounts are rust red from many iron deposits, and it is from that area that the fine metal smiths of Norval gathered ore to make their creations. Many said that the finest sword steel came from the rich iron veins in the deeper recesses of those mountains, though gathering such ore was not the safest task one could do in Norval.

The mountains are not the darker of the rock chains due to their color, but rather due to the mystery of evil that clung to the area. The most notable of those areas was the Peak of Toran, the highest point in the mountain chain and possibly in all of Norval. That rocky crag was constantly surrounded by a halo of clouds, so the top was never visible. The peak gained its name from the great cavalier, Toran, one of but three people who ever reached the cloud-encrusted summit and survived.

The brave, daring Toran once tried to seek the mystery at the top of the peak, because the tales and stories of what lay behind the shrouding clouds were many and varied. He went forward with a calm face, confident in his abilities and magikal armor and blade. Those who lived there said that on the day after he scaled the mountain, there echoed for many moments the loud rumble of falling rock and the sound of some frightful beast. Then came the silence of death. None dared climb the rock to see what happened.

Toran was not seen for nearly two weeks. A surprised lumberman came upon Toran as he stumbled through the dark ironwood forest, a shadow of his former self. His grand armor was but a few battered pieces. Almost all of it was gone, ripped from his ragged body. His strong fingers that once held a mighty sword in their grasp were gnarled flesh, worn to the bone. His once-raven-black hair was a tangled mass of singed white. Scorch marks covered his badly bruised, torn body from head to toe, as if he had fallen down a ragged mountain of fire.

Toran died three days later while under the care of the priests of the Brotherhood of Sharta. Despite their ministrations, healing herbs, and constant prayers, Toran seemed to have only one lone spark of life left, with no desire to kindle it. Only one word did he speak before his death. None knew what it meant for almost another generation, but, as the fates would have it, the people of Norval would come to understand full well the terror that caused a man like Toran to die broken in body, mind, and spirit. The word he gave with his last dying breath was, “Vortah.”

Three of the mountains spawned a river each. From the Spine of Korath came the slow-flowing Dark River. The stream twisted down through shadowy forest and foreboding marsh, both well-known for being dangerous to travelers who failed to keep an open ear or keen watch. That river eventually drained into the Great Swamp of Norval, another place known for being dangerous for the unwary. The Dark River justly earned its name as a place of menace and also for its color. Although deep brown and somewhat acidic to taste, akin to that of rotting vegetation, the river water was safe enough to drink, just not very palatable.

As one might expect, the Crystal Mountains gave birth to an equally impressive river, the Crystal River. It was as clear as the sky and as pure as one could imagine water being. It was known that even during the hottest season the water was as cold as ice in deep winter. Swimming across the river and surviving the freezing water was oft a rite of passage for certain clans and sects in the area. It was said that at the Crystal River’s headwaters, hidden somewhere in the mountains, were creatures frozen solid by the cold of the water’s source, as they attempted to drink from it.

The mighty Crystal River drained into the Great Swamp, as did the third river, the aptly named Blood River, which came from the Red Mountains and gained its reddish color from the iron deposits over which it flowed. Strangely, the water was foul-smelling and poisonous in many areas, yet it was clean and drinkable only a march’s distance away. Only by the presence of a water plant called red rush could one determine if the water was safe. Why the water cycled from poisonous to clean, and what that plant had to do with it, was another of the mysteries surrounding that foreboding mountainous area.

Not having a true river, the Blue Mountains had a water source. From high up in the Cliff of Gatra poured the palest of blue spring water, falling hundreds of feet to the ground, where it disappeared. One hour’s march to the east, the water returned to greet the sun and formed Blue Lake.

Despite the beauty of those pale-blue waters, it had a strong smell of brimstone. Though it was safe enough to drink, few did, because the rotten egg taste matched the vile stench. Its healing properties, however, were well-known and frequently used. It was not unheard of for the infirm or injured to travel for days to bathe in the warm springs surrounding that lake. Blue water was oft sold in apothecary shops throughout Norval.



As Darmir continued his lengthy description, I could tell that this was not to be another simple tale of myth. He was spending far too much time and attention to detail. It seemed as if he were describing places he knew well.

“This is the story,” Darmir continued, “of two heroes of Norval. They arose from the common people and became famous throughout Norval for their courage, bravery, and love. They came from vastly different backgrounds, yet it was the threat of a common foe that brought them together.”

He looked into my eyes. “A very common way to bring about peace in troubled times, Young Sire.” He nodded slightly.

I felt taken aback by that look. It was as if he knew something about my future that I did not. It was true that, with my father’s position in Raylan, I might well become one of the future lords who ruled. Nonetheless, such a thing would not—or could not—occur for many years.

Shaking his head slightly, the old man said, “To understand the true nature of this tale, and of those who participated in it, one must know the history of each. The two heroes are, I shall say, well-known to me. For the dragon, I know the following from a source I cannot yet mention.”