The History of Middle Sea

The First Chronicle - The Second Chronicle - The Third Chronicle - The Fourth Chronicle - The Fifth Chronicle

The First Chronicle

In the elder times, after the dawn of the world, peace reigned.  But it lasted not.

On the afternoon of the first day, from the waters under the heavens rose the giant nymph Rytanufor, which means, in the elder tongue, "The giant nymph".  And with him went his monstrous seven headed hound Catchuahongul, which means, in the elder tongue, "Hound with more than three heads".

And Rytanufor put from him nymphly things and summoned to him the armies of night. And with them he passed through the land of Middle-Earth, until he came to the land of Middle-Sea.

And many was the hobbit on which he trod.

And he went up onto a high plain, his hound Catchuahongul by his side, and spake unto the dark creatures in this wise.

"Go forth now in every direction, and every piece of land I see from where I stand, shall we occupy and contaminate utterly."

And so the regiments of evil went forth, and every piece that the nymph could see from where he stood was cast down before him.

All save one small kingdom called Albion, which means in the elder tongue, "The kingdom that was hid beneath the dog".  And no-one therein perceived their danger, save the crown prince Veganin, heir to the realm.

These were indeed perilous times for Albion, for all around, the law of darkness prevailed.  And things were not as they should be.  Vampires did lie in sin with dragons, the cyclops did interfere with the goblin, and trolls slept around.  And Rytanufor, the giant nymph grew hornly, and took to him as wife a beauteous young fiord. And this fiord, she was firm and pliant and her downs were a wrinkled snow.

And on the first morning of Augustleap she did concieve her demon child.  And the child was known from that moment forth as "The Evil One".

And thinking his work complete, the giant nymph departed for more nymphish climes, taking with him Catchuahongul his monstrous hound, to throw for him Yufmaug, the giant twig.  And there were ten hundred, hundred years in the retrieving, for Yufmaug, she was mighty in gyre.

Meantimes, The Evil One grew bolder, and came to dwell but nine rooks flights from Albion.  And the king of Albion was Yulfric the third, and the doom was greater than ever.

Thus stood Albion, alone against the darklands.  And in Mount Vazarpithur, The Evil One begat, and The Evil One said "Soon my children will come of age, I shall prepare a mighty treat.  And it shall be called the black muster, when evil shall do battle with good and triumph over it for ever."

In the elder times, as evil encroached on all sight, there rose up the Sybil, Dyandetes.  And all the scholarly men of Albion turned to she for Council, for she had the divine gift of prophesy.  Seated about her oaken throne, they would speak their questions to the ears of Faal, the face that listens.  Then, after consulting her masters, the gods, she would deliver her answers from the mouth of Gronthor, the face that foretells.  And after the sages had departed, and all that she spake had come to pass, they returned again, and she would turn to them the eyes of Rivener, the face that says "I told you so".  And in those first days, fearing for the safety of the Kingdom, the men of Albion sought to know from Dyandetes how they might be protected from the Night of All Evil.  And these were her words: "There shall be a hero, and he will unknowingly command great power. The forces against him shall be mighty, but he shall set the world on the path to salvation, the day he alone shall find me for guidance".  And so saying, until that time, the Sybil went into hiding, and her wisdom, and the hero were forgotten as all lived in most mordant terror of The Evil One.

The Second Chronicle

In the elder times, after the dawn of the world, a darkness spread over the face of the land, and the gods turned to their own affairs.  And all the lands of Middle-Sea were ruled by The Evil One, save one small kingdom called Albion. So The Evil One gathered the Children of Darkness; Snark and Sea-Wolf and Goblin and Troll, and suckled them noisily, but most carefully.  And they planned a black muster to crush Albion utterly, that evil would triumph earthwide and everywhen.  And The Evil One, so it is written, spake thus wise: "First shall I command out of Zilbor into Albion, my loathsome priests, the Brotherhood of Night, to corrupt and soften the people of Albion, that we might gobble them up."  "Yum, yum, yum" she added, according to some versions.

Now the King of Albion was Yulfric the third, who heeded not the danger, nor the gravely warnings of the Crown Prince, his valiant son.  Thus it came to pass that the fair realm of Albion, in this perilous hour, was entrusted by the white council into the hands of the great wizard, Radox the Green, that he might find the seven heroes who would save the land. And in turn, the wise Radox did entrust the task to Agar, son of Athar, a young log poacher.

And so, upon the word of The Evil One, the hellish brethren of the Brotherhood of Night, set out upon every road, track and thoroughfare, preaching of the night of all evil yet to come.  None dared bar their way, for they were a holy order, sacred and untouchable, and sacrificed anyone whom they disliked.  And so, in fear, were many converted to the dark ways.  And in time, the brothers reached castle Comfylawns itself, home of the foolish King Yulfric the wise.

Thus did King Yulfric betray sweet Albion to the hordes.  And it came to pass in these times that South of Albion, in the land of Kvarn, the people saw the forces of The Evil One on high, which turned them mad.  And in their madness did they go to their plants and talk to them and did they converse with their flowers, even as they watered them.  And the plants of Kvarn learned their language well, and swiftly, and listened even when they were not being spoken onto.  And the plants conversed amongst themselves, the lusty wheat saying "Verily he plants it out in the cold fields all night, receiving nought but water to sustain us, and while our masters cover themselves with jerkins warm and richly covered, they do cover us most cruelly and eat all manner of good wares, including ourselves."  So the plants of Kvarn rose against their masters and defeated them, and they were hungry, but being wise they ate but few of their masters.  Those remaining they placed in the earth with but a small part showing, and watered them.  And it came to pass that the plant kingdom of Kvarn had a poor harvest, and looked them elsewhere for food.  So it was that the Crown Prince Veganin, leaving Albion by the south ways was forces to listen heed to his fathers advisers, and disguise themselves most unheroicly to reach the temple of Zilbor.

And during this time, seeing the rise of the brotherhood, in the surrounding lands, he last few remaining men of goodness did seek to band themselves together for protection.  But from Vazarpithur the dark, The Evil One did see them, and sent each an appropriate doom, such that their span did not last a long time. And many were to fall.  The company of most droning mystic bards were brutally bored to death, blow by blow in one day, by the masked behemoths of home mead brewery.  The great fellowship of sportsmen were besieged in their towers by the slavering ranks of the snapping triumvirate of athelete's foot, and long and itchy was their fungoid infection by the end.  And great in number were the other defeated.  All save the members of the mightiest society of all, those most worthy guardians of right, the Doomesday Guild.

The Third Chronicle

In the elder times, after the dawn of the world, all the lands were ruled by The Evil One, from his chair high aloft mount Vazarpithur the dark, with, if rather aesthetic sources are to be believed, a small matching pouffe atop a nearby lesser summit. The only remaining sanctuary of good was Albion, ruled by the rather foolish King Yulfric the wise.  And only Agar, son of Athar, stood against the darkness, and sought he from the caverns of the dread Sphynx, Summontrumpet, the tremendous horn, that could call upon the seven remaining heroes of legend.

In the first days, beyond Albion's northlands was an inhospitable place, the terrain was unlevel and unsolid, the hedgerows thick with flailing thorny trails whipped by the incessant southing wind and icy driving snow.  And all remarked upon the lack of visitors considering the great mildness of the summer.  But the lord Asteron did come to this place and did cause to rise amidst all these terrors a great building.  And he did say "Behold my towering keep is thick and strong, and though at all seasons it be exceedingly filthy without, within is safe and creaturely.  And it shall be called the only homely house in all the domain".  And so it was that the White Council seeking most scholarly refuge did come to the place of the lord Asteron, knowing that the outerly chaos would deter any lesser kind from disturbing their momentous and most urgent gathering, the great conference of all wizards.

Now, in the first days, there were many dragons in the east.  They built their nests in high towers and flew far and wide, casting their scaly eyes greedily for precious things they could snatch and hoard as their own.  The Scarlet dragons favoured jewels, and many were the sparkling rubies and lustrous pearls that slipped into their iron grasp.  The Amber dragons sought maidens, and lost forever were those fair complexioned, silken haired beauties that strayed by chance into their domain.  Most numerous, and loathsome of all were the tiny Blue dragons, so small, swift and stealthy that the did seem almost invisible to the luckless victims of their greed.  For these cunning creatures coveted above all those woollen foot garments that men did know as socks, striving above all to take to themselves one only of every substance, hue and size existing.  But dragons are slave to none, and did decline to join the ranks of The Evil One, who in wrath did order their destruction by many flocks of harpies.  Thus were all the Scarlet dragons slain, and the Blue dragons did hear of their peril and hid themselves, stealing still even unto this day.  And also were all the Amber dragons slaughtered – save one, Traug of the eastern tower of the horizon.

The Fourth Chronicle

In the elder times, all the lands were ruled by The Evil One, save the kingdom of Albion.  And as the hour of the Black Muster drew nigh, the men of Albion became poor and weak, and suffered much, and they cried out to the Elvenkind for some power they might have as their own.  And the Elves called a great moot of their kind, and it fell upon Theatar, the silverest of all the tinkly host to choose one mystic device and entrust it to the care of man.  And so the high, tinsel-spun, sparkler of  Elves plucked from his pouch of knowledge the thing called seven.  This he handed unto Man’s keeping, to be hidden amongst his common numbers for the use of his most sacred trappings.  Thus it was that their Sins were named after it, and their Virtues and their Wisdoms, and their brides and brothers.  But during all this time, men were slaughtered and starved as men before, and said, “Truly, we should have made a few swords and gone out to carve some Elf meat off that weakest Gnome.”

And so the wonderous gift was forgotten, except for some who remembered the ancient rhyme of seven heroes and hoped that power lay therein.

Radox the Green journied to the misty wood, to seek the Streaming. All wasted time and energy in the world did slip away and trickle back to its shimmering fabric.  And it had the power, if it so desired, to lend back some of this time. But those who drew near did also risk its most deadly anger.

And even as Radox the Green did battle with his nemesis, did The Evil One finally descend from mount Vazarpithur the dark.  Down was she carried on a raven-black snow cloud, surrounded by such a multitude of orcs with flaming spears of fire, that six trolls also descending were constrained to use the stairway cut into the living rock beside.  And she did say to the legions of the seven armies of hell gathered in her name: “Fall ye now upon helpless Albion, for the hour of the black muster is here.”  Then did three mighty trumps sound at the moment precisely, and echoed throughout all Middle Sea.  And in the castle Comfylawns, the hours were numbered indeed.

Then did the seven armies of The Evil One, rear up and violate the borders of sweet Albion from all sides.  Like a sea of pultrescent maggots, were they disgorged from the surrounding lands in numbers of great magnitude, crushing any fair flowers beneath their feet, tentacles or slimy underbellies according to their tendency.

From the south came the awesome veginanry of Kvarn - six forests, tall and stark of man-consuming trees, with fourteen regiments of shrubs besides.  Southeast lying, it falls to Morloth, usurper queen of the fire stinging bees, flanked by six thousand ruby fanged vipers, which knibbled.  At compass east, the Craanian host, their swirling killer loons supported by vast droves of blood drenched snapping monkeys at their head.  And from the north, at the last swept down the masked armies of the hellish wraith-pixie alliance, whose appearance was struck from some versions for fear of the doom appearing less, which was not the case.

And then, was Agar, son of Yulfric, and true-born hero of Albion, conveyed upon the wings of  Zanspoor, Skymaster, to a high plain by the great sea, with the tremendous horn, Summontrumpet, and his companions.

Here the writings do become indistinct, and Agar, bravest hero, the crown prince Veganin, girded up in his snow-white armour, and the seven dwarves did straightaway ride swiftly into the swirling battle smoke of war.  And all that remained, ringing across the plains of Albion, were the sounds of darkness, desolation and Hordes of the Things.

Thus end the chronicles.

The Fifth Chronicle

Surprisingly (to those who have heard the ending of the fourth Chronicle), a number of Albion's brave defenders survive the initial onslaught of the forces of The Evil One.  Details beyond this point appear to be lost in the mists of time, though I am hoping to get some more information from the scribes...

 

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