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Picture Taken By: Crystal Bogdan
RIP Harley the Rooster (1997? - May 14, 2007)

Tá Mishnach gorg da Achoáin: Oràm Mharabhàunt

        Pash, harleàigh seògga gra an còuretha athlas, go ceàrbheàin sas àal saíbhain an síehan solaim - frí hArdeàch eóa. Nlocuíamh da àulailàgh sólas go ghasashain í go ghabeàbhnain gra, sra ghafhorch - dta í go faelain athlas ghàupuánain mír, an hichaòllaideàn hàulain sreà athlas. Àal-go-Nhuách an Sheàmh go faelain gcínn, í naòggoín an hargílain mhoírlogh steàch. Shaòmh Ecsíemh ínagh leásh domh na hArdeàch gcínn, í àfaira nlòigc beshír hàulainàgh í sceòrrain. Àal ghafhaeleài gcínn dheòmheàia da aòmmain, pbleànch domh an ghoàg glór mó graigh na Struíl Luígh. Athlas thrugh thaògruíf Srías na Fhaaluír loggeàs. Àal pbleànaich ghoàg domh, òurío hArdoànain Cosra sar reàcs an gra.
        Cínn, àulailàgh nlocoímhain àu nlocuímh, í gmheòrchain sreà tánn fhairesh na nuátha eànd mhuíl. Í-aluín gmheòrch fínn da dTarrain tánn fhairesh còa an eànd thoír, sra ghafhorch - dta, dhacríemh an beshír bhoàch ní gcalàshàgh bpeòrragh iá. "Òigh, sól - fínnàgh à sól - feànnaigh òirneàch, sra fhairesh an òig," òeogh besh gcínn nen àulailàgh cgí Bhuáll cánn Sólunghoàg. "Í-sra còa òig gConnaírgha Glór go bpoímheàch. Athlas òig fael go àupuáin."

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        Battle waged and the storm of Isàs Cristarís came to the aid of the elves. The horses of heaven galloped ominously towards the Blue River to repel the evil of men. A warrior of thunder, a mighty conscript of Desikìnya, mounted each horse in the Legion of Isàs. Each warrior of thunder was clothed in crimson gowns, and armed with swords of fire. Grasping with the other hand, the warrior of thunder wielded the slings of Gorreàgh. These slings would launch orbs of energy, to repel the evil of men. In their plight to avenge the King of Cátern and his illness, the Legion of Thunder obeyed the goddess of horses, Isàs. She held the standard of battle and rode down towards the Blue River as wheels of fire and the sound of thunder.
        The fire of Desikìnya opposed the lightning wraiths of Kuírbha in the realm of Vaaluir. The heavens battled and this whole arden was choked by a cloak of fire. The day to the cloak of his fire begins. The realm of Uran bled and stipples of Vaaluir proclaimed an omen to come. Why did not the Collective Thought of King Exiv aid the plea of the elves in the East? Who would stand victorious in this battle? Has King Exiv forgotten?
        Before long, the Prince of Cátern, the king's beloved son, looked towards the fiery sky and uttered a spell. He knew what would come to pass next. He saw the turmoil that lay ahead. "Fire…Fire in the Sky...the sky falls down. Kuírbha…Kuírbha...has provoked the fire of Desikìnya and the legion of Isàs, maiden of the storm! Woe! Unto all that have breath, for the sky bleeds as fire! Fire divides into two domains like a clever scheme but water will bring unity. Oh, you remaining, the elemental point of fire has divided into two opposing forces. See it in the heavens, for they proclaim the disruption to the balance in nature. Remember the words of Shekìnya, for he would bring hope to those who seek the fire of life." The Prince bowed his head and attended his father, who embraced mortality. His song was grievous. Medía Lankìnya had gotten her wish to divide the dominions of time, the sacred elemental points. Would she be forgiven her debt in this dreary and perilous time?
        The ill king raised his arm to his son like he was reaching for the Horizon, the place that was shut. He put his hand on his son's head to bless him. "It will come to pass," the King uttered, while the other elves watched on. "A sword will arise from the sea. You must build me the altar, though these are perilous times. Let it stand amidst this chaos as a symbol of New Hope. Tear down the tower of decision and bring us New Hope, my son." The king coughed and gasped for air, tensing his frail body.
        The Prince shuttered by his touch and his soul amplified. "For I have seen it. A rising pillar, a hope built in your name, shall come." The Prince meditated on this, for he saw a shaft of beaming light shine down from the Gleam of the Elevated Sunbeam. The sky rolled up as a scroll and from within the midst of the crevice, the power of light beamed down. It crashed down upon an altar and rippled, like a stone being cast into the water. The rippling swept across this arden as a renewal and it struck the rim of Plíagge. There, the ripple of time opened the horizon and returned to the source. "The rising pillar comes to save us from this calamity, my father." The Prince recoiled and regained consciousness. He saw the razing of all the Realm of Arden, like the rippling of waves on the sea. He saw Mount Kravòkalla crumble beneath the rift, the stars of the sky fall, the very existence of life shook as the Holy Altar ignited with an unknown power from the Concordant Summit. A man stood upon it, veiled in white, eyes of fire and feet like the storm of Meàlstràu. A New Hope.
        "It is as you have seen, my son." The King gasped. "I will be no more, but another pillar will rise from the waters to save our kingdom. You have seen him, my son."

        The power of King Shafhalóa waned more and more, and the power of Medía Lankìnya, the River Guardian, waxed greater. The cleverness of her deceit was a peril in the Realm of Arden. The powers of her sorcery defeated the great, elfin king, for he was the greatest king the elves depended upon in this arden.
        "At last, the King has seen my power. I will reassume my place in the clouds with my sister, for my riches are a s great as the elves in Cátern," she mused. "It is now my kingdom of elves." Her greed and lust only provoked the death of the King even more. "I will share my place in the clouds with my sister, the Queen of omnivivacious light."
        The heavens trembled again. The elves engaged in battle with song and spirit against the standards of Dunsha, the first alliance of men with King Exiv. The time of testing was upon this arden, for the initiate of this turmoil, Medía Lankìnya, has turned her face from the hope of the Horizon.
        The evil, lightning wraiths of Kuírbha fingered out against the horses of Isàs. A clash of despair filled the sky with the approach of Desikìnya's seed, for the sounds of battle reached to the high heavens and penetrated the very depths of Plíagge. The disturbance of the heavens grew greater as the sorcery of Medía Lankìnya pierced the heart of the elfin, King of Cátern. The two were linked together, and the fate of the elves lied upon the ill king.
        The elves sang out.

"Aòmh còa go ceàrtain ní Fhoínn Mheàtha í Bheshíra! Aleáragh Ardònain còa saíbhain an síehan nhu!"

        While battle waged on all fronts in this arden, a shift of power came. Fierce hailstones fell on the men of Dunsha. It was the power of Desikìnya and the Legion of Isàs. The Warriors of Thunder, mounted on the horses of Isàs slung their Gorreàgh at the wraiths of lightning. The sky streaked again with the blazes of lightning, but again the legion thundered back with a resonating force.
        Arden was full of turmoil as battle waged at the Blue River. The sorceress Medía Lankìnya was testing the waters of men and elf. It would appear she would be redeemed by her awesome display of sagacity with this battle. It would also seem that the elves would win. This is what she wanted. However, amidst the battle, the power of Paíf amazingly glimmered low, causing the power of the Blue River to calm. This took Medía by surprise, for she thought that she would have the battle in the palm of her hand.
        Battle continued to wage on in the heavens, and the Horse Legion of Isàs stormed over the lightning wraiths of Kuírbha, but it was the dimming of Paíf that took Medía by surprise. The strength of the elves prevailed, but why has my light gone out?. She thought. Was it not what I needed to do to be restored? Test the purity of water? She pondered and shook the scepter as if to re-ignite its permanence. Yes, to demonstrate the power of the elves and have victory, she reassured herself.

        As the horses of heaven galloped across the formation of the Blue River, laying waste the ruins of men. Therewith, the battle had waged between man and elf, and serendipitous hope was held together by a single ray of the Srías. A mere glimpse of the Srías showed through. The omnivivacious light of King Exiv peered around the wings of Argul. The elfin mother heard the song of the elves.

        The thunder of Desikìnya rolled on and the lightning streaks of Kuírbha blazed forth. The battle was not over just yet. A tide was turning in the clouds, and the elves continued to sing in battle. Medía cringed with fear and Croàta opened wide, ready to take her in.

"Aòmh còa go ceàrtain ní Fhoínn Mheàtha í Bheshíra! Aleáragh Ardònain còa saíbhain an síehan nhu!"

        The heavens remained in turmoil, but Medía was filled with the greatest fear. She would have to escape her own judgement. Has Croàta opened its mouth for me? She wondered.
        Suddenly, there was silence in the heavens. The battle stopped on both fronts - in Vaaluir above and on Arden below. An unprecedented event would come to pass, and it would take all life by surprise, including the Archivon. The battle has stopped and we have paid for it with many lives, both man and elf thought. Has King Exiv remembered us finally?
        Medía Lankìnya worried what would come to pass. She feared the song of the elves, and hoped the King of Cátern would live. She had not meant for the elfin king to die, but she wondered if she had gone too far with her detrimental mischief. He must not die, she remorsed. For, I will be doomed if he does. Her eager attempt to repent was not heard though.
        Suddenly, a cock crowed three times, breaking the long silence over Arden. The song of elves had been achieved and fulfilled, for it came to pass, as they knew it would. The omnivivacious light of the Queen returned as the clouds of doom parted. King Exiv peered down once again and remembered the elves. As the presence of the gods returned, a greater and glorious light beamed down on the Blue River. It showed through the clouds of Vaaluir. As the light shown down, the Realm of Arden shook with a tremendous force.
        Again, the elves sang out their song, and all feared that the end of life was at hand. Even the King's son feared that the end was here, for he had seen it in his own premonition. "No, my brothers and sisters, this is not the end," he reassured the elves at Vall. "For the Holy Altar is not yet erected. It has not come to pass."
        A sigh of relief acknowledged the Prince.
        Again, the cock crowed three times and this whole arden was silent again for an hour. Everything was silent for the duration but the song of the elves at the Blue River. Then, Medía Lankìnya watched on and she was appalled by what she was seeing. A whirlwind of light came down from Vaaluir between man and elf and it ignited as the fire of Kuírbha. The Blue River stirred as Meàlstràu around the plasma light of the whirlwind. The earth shook and the fires of Croàta spat upon the land. The molten rock formed around the whirlwind and Meàlstràu. It was an awesome sight to see by man and elf. King Exiv descended upon this arden and the Srías brightened behind him as he arrived. The omnivivacious light of the Queen penetrated the depths of the clouds.
        Soon, the molten rock and the whirlwind plasma whirled about, creating a strong wind upon this arden. The light within grew brighter, brighter than the Srías, until finally, all the elemental points remained silent - all but one. The whirlwind dissipated, and appearing suspended over the Blue River was the Sword of Mharabhàunt. It blazed with a holy fire.
        The elves continued singing their song, for it was inscribed upon the blade, and it fulfilled all that had come to pass.

"Aòmh còa go ceàrtain ní Fhoínn Mheàtha í Bheshíra! Aleáragh Ardònain còa saíbhain an síehan nhu!

Peòrra, o bpeòaorrain an rí ní òuran. hArth Gach à aion dTreàchas cgí Peòaorría da Mharabhàunt abháilloín gí na aòaicònach. Tá tlaàdeàdh an tlaà mo bhí hoían. Arden eóa òuriaòn go paòrrain àm reàcs, mheàorrain iálussain, òuranush pleàfadh domh. Bhaòrcha ber - solaim - àupuán níc hArthain mag. Mír, o mhír còa òam da gommeàs rí Nheíthra-Raichnàgh í Bheshíra? Plía an Phlíagh da Àugus hraàggaòn an fairan, òuranush pleàfoín, í luássa sùron hArdeàch eóa lím Peòarría Mheàtha í Bheshíra. Còiamma gcoímh còa ha, go òisheàn òigc ra cgí mó eólch Òuam da Nlaòimh í Bheshíra? Go crágh gcòathredeàn ní ghoàmh da Hlíemhraàna-Srarísheí mír.

Aòmh còa go ceàrtain ní Fhoínn Mheàtha í Bheshíra! Aleáragh Ardònain còa saíbhain an síehan nhu!"

        King Exiv proclaimed, "the elves have sung the Swordsong of the Bitter Taste of Judgement. As it were, so it will be! Peace be to the purity of the elves, and the remaining!" King Exiv grasped the sword and, at that very moment, the ill King of Cátern ceased to exist.
        "I bear the sword of god, who has chosen not to reveal himself, so I do not dare wield the powers of this sword," King Exiv proclaimed to all life in Arden. "I, the King of Uran, do not have the authority and the Horizon is shut."
        After the King's words, the Essence of Shekìnya departed from King Shafhalóa and the King's light passed into the Land of the Free Sea on the Horizon. It saddened the elves. "Do not shed your tears," the Prince of Cátern mentioned. "He is not dead. He has not fallen, if you remember him. Forget not that he has passed into the Land of the Free Sea."
        Upon his deathbed, King Shafhalóa II, the king's only son, proclaimed a eulogy to commemorate the first king of elves, the first pillar of their society. "Down, down into the sea, two towers as pure and white tumble down as tears from Heaven. Alas, two towers fall over the horizon of Plíagge. Be wary, you remaining, for a day of exultation comes as quickly as the day of the evil cloak of his fire extinguishes. Forget not of the Forgotten Realms that the two towers of the Free-Sea Land, lying on the Horizon, remain therein forever and ever."

"Fire, oh fire in the sky. Mharabhàunt takes control. The Equilibrium is balanced. Arden trembles, the seas boil, the heavens fall. Chaos will be turned into order. Oh where, oh where is the Day, the Day of His Indignation? Plíagge is razed, the heavens fall and the earth is baptized with His holy fire. Who is righteous to be saved on the dreadful Day of His appearance? The mystery lies beyond the gleam of an Elevated Sunbeam." ^

The light has gone out!
Excerpts from "Book of the Morning"
Account of Àuguíl
Account of Sheàcìnha
Account of Cràumhòcallain
Account of Droíga
Account of Rhuín
Account of Mharabhàunt
Account of Eírach
The Lost Account of Lankìnya
Account of cGasandràcseán
Account of Bhiánuim
§ Thank you for not nicking my material §

Oakbrook 17-102
Eric R. Chatham
Webelf at Arden
Medina County, Ohio
Copyright © 2003