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Grendhill 

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“Go,” King Domido said, “Help him on his way, honored sageman, and hurry. He must not be followed.”

Reedl bowed his head in acknowledgement, then nodded expectantly towards Solmi. Solmi gathered the four babes’ weapons and followed Reedl out the door.

Reedl and Solmi made their way to the main square of Grendhill. They traveled in stealth, as their mission was an important one and the kingdom could not afford for it to be compromised. Though they appeared to be unescorted, a non-descript pair out for a stroll, ignoring Reedl’s oddly-shaped bag, they both knew that the most elite Royal Guardsmen preceded and trailed them from a distance.

“I take it I already know your destination?” whispered Reedl.

Solmi nodded. “I believe so. I travel with–” Solmi paused as he made his word choice carefully. “–I travel with my goods to a vacation destination. My friend has a, uh, cabin I travel to now, and has handed me some items on loan to the locals. I take them their toys and they’ll put me up for a few days.”

“Yes, the earthy cabin. Very good to know that I can get you where you are going.”

They reached the city square at the very center of Grendhill. They paused in the shadows of the alley where they stood at the edge of the square.  Reedl threw back his hood. It may look suspicious if people approached the Thallenrose without a Sageman to take them anywhere. Solmi left his hood up. A traveler’s business was his own, and he would not look out of the ordinary.

The pair strode forward confidently into the square towards the Thallenrose. If watchers saw them now, it was all but too late to intercept the pair anyway. Assuming onlookers recognized Solmi. Assuming they guessed his mission. Reedl would doubtless be recognized, being one of the few Sagemen in the land. But Solmi would be lesser known. In fact, his task would sooner be guessed correctly than his identity. He carried precious cargo, and the whole country must know Mifalla Farella would have been due. Reedl’s appearance at the Thallenrose with a figure carrying a closed package would be as good as a tacit annunciation of the royal birth. The official announcement would be called from the rooftops the next day. It must remain private news until the newest Royal Arms were secured. Still, Reedl escorted travelers often enough. Perhaps nobody would take note.

To compensate for the inevitable loss of obscurity, the Guardsmen had moved closer, in easy sight now. Any watchers who decided to do anything to either Reedl or Solmi would have to reckon with a couple dozen well-trained soldiers wielding matchless weapons that could not be broken, a discouraging prospect.

The people in the square were somewhat sparse, going about their evening routines of winding down their business for the day. They hardly glanced as the pair of travelers stepped into the square towards the Thallenrose. As Reedl and Solmi neared the platform, Solmi threw his hood off as well. The people would know at this point what Solmi was doing, and they knew that he needed Reedl’s help to do it. They hadn’t known it would be right now, and the guards around the square made trying to interfere pointless.

Many people must have wondered where Solmi was going. It had been this way for hundreds of years, but people could not help talking about it.

Oh, the weapons must be kept safe for their rightful wielders, some said.

We’re just curious about where they’re kept, others would reply.

It must be a secret, for our protection, they were reminded. Besides, they could be going anywhere right now, so it’s no use wondering.

We just want to know, the conversations always ended.

Reedl and Solmi reached the Thallenrose, unworn despite centuries of use as a step, a pedestal, a soapbox, a stool. They stepped onto the uneven surface of the flower shape. “Dulo,” uttered Reedl, locking everyone else out. The din of the square immediately dropped in volume. “Right, so you have your bag of weapons?”

“They’re all here.”

“And you’re going to the cave on Harrval?”

“Yes.”

“Good. Very good. I have business to attend to here, so I will not meet you at the other end. Is anybody meeting you?”

“No. Nobody there knows I’m coming right now, so with my hood up–”, Solmi threw his hood back on, “–I’ll just be an anonymous traveler.”

Solmi stooped over, ready to display a false gait when he would arrive at the other end. Reedl sent him off on his way: “Dulo miti Harrval niti pondere!”

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Prologue


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Grendhill was a prosperous land, home to beautiful hills and congenial people. It enjoyed relative peace for generations at a stretch, with only a few minor internal perturbations punctuating the passage of the centuries.

Domido Farella and Mifalla Tormi were born into this heritage. Domido was born crown prince of Grendhill, and Mifalla as the daughter of a farmer. Mifalla had loved Domido ever since she was old enough to say the word “love,” and they grew up the best of friends. They came of age and married while still in their youth. Life was good and they were happy together.

The first significant wrench in their lives then, was that they found themselves unable to conceive a child for several years. They anxiously looked forward to bringing fresh little people into the world and teaching them the way of life in Grendhill, to help them live happily and thrive, but Domido and Mifalla could only wait and hope for that opportunity. Meanwhile, they had time on their hands to learn the ruling craft from Domido’s father. As time rolled on, when Domido completed 30 Turns of age, his father gave him the throne, the Seat of Grendhill, and retired.

To their great joy, King Domido and Queen Mifalla found themselves expecting a child not long after. As the queen’s belly expanded, soon enough they realized they were expecting more than one child. When the children decided it was time to arrive, there were five little quintuplets.

Before following with the Farella’s present account, one must realize that as Grendhill prospered, it must also have been protected. After all, where there is a prosperous people, there are envious people who would take it all from them, if possible.

Grendhill sat near important trade routes and had rich natural resources. Furthermore, it was the home of the Thallenrose, the stone-like platform that functioned as the gateway to travel and trade with people in other worlds. The Thallenrose was the only means and the only point in all Tasala to travel off-world.

Grendhill, then, was protected from greedy outsiders by an ancient fortune of power placed upon the Farella household at Grendhill’s founding. Grendhill was formed by the unification of three towns that lay near the Thallenrose, Gren Farella having shown himself a hero and saved them all on three separate occasions. The sagewoman Thallwren Aguneg pronounced at Gren’s coronation that the children born to the ruling King and Queen of the Farella line would be born prepared to follow Gren’s legacy and protect the land. According to legend, Thallwren Aguneg lost the Sage’s gift that day, and died shortly after.

Since that time, for hundreds of years, when the princes and princesses of Grendhill were born, a weapon immediately took shape in their hands out of the air. Attendants always immediately snatched the weapons away and a trusted friend was charged with hiding a weapon away on another world until its owner was old enough to wield it, its location secret to all except the King and Queen and a few other trusted close friends.

Throughout these generations, more than a hundred such weapons had appeared, been hidden, reclaimed, carried throughout life and, upon death, passed on to the Royal Guard of Grendhill. The original masters, those of the royal family, were the most skilled with these weapons, but in the hands of others they were still sharp, never rusting, never denting, and feared in combat. The Royal Arms well documented and tracked. A few were missing, carried off by one dissident prince who thought Gren’s Seat should have been his, and a few of his followers, who were never heard of again.

As a natural consequence of Grendhill’s history, though others might envy its tranquility and prosperity, they did not dare attempt to challenge it.

Returning to the account of Mifalla and Domido, who we can now disclose was a swordsman by birth, five wonderful, healthy children greeted them that day. Domido’s lifelong friend, Solmi, stood in the corner, ready to carry the newest Royal Arms to a secret location on another world, hiding them from even their rightful owners until these had grown old enough to handle them.

As the newborn children opened their eyes to the world for the first time and found a weapon in their hands, they were named, and a sageman, Reedl, informed the parents of his Perceptions of them.

Domire came first, a boy wielding a sword, inclined to become noble and wise.

Valkyr followed, a girl holding a longbow and a quiver of arrows, determined to become swift and precise.

Tido was third, a boy with an axe, destined to become strong and confident.

Misolfa, the penultimate, a girl with a hammer, would become good-hearted and unstoppable.

Aton, the final tiny child born that day, was a boy. He kicked, looked around the room, and started to cry. He was not holding any weapon.

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