Abbot Eventide: Protected "The Legend of Erol" (‎[edit=sysop] (indefinite) ‎[move=sysop] (indefinite))

2012-08-28T20:55:03Z

Protected "The Legend of Erol" (‎[edit=sysop] (indefinite) ‎[move=sysop] (indefinite))

Abbot Eventide: Created page with "'''Title: The Legend of Erol ''' '''Author: Lucas Eventide ''' We knew little of our fates for that dim night. The town cryer spoke to us about a Hermit in need of esc..."

2012-08-28T20:54:58Z

Created page with "'''Title: The Legend of Erol ''' '''Author: Lucas Eventide ''' We knew little of our fates for that dim night. The town cryer spoke to us about a Hermit in need of esc..."

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'''Title: The Legend of Erol '''

'''Author: Lucas Eventide '''

We knew little of
our fates for that dim
night. The town cryer
spoke to us about a
Hermit in need of
escorts to guide him to
Trinsic.
About thirty of us
choose to lead this
old man to his friend.
Our reward and
thanks would be given
in gold... and a secret
none had heard, kept
quiet through the ages.

So onward we moved,
Erol lead the way
with a strange aura
about him. We knew
he was afraid of
something deep
within those forests
and we were becoming
restless with his slow
pace. Still we passed
fish around and sang
trail songs in the
dimming light of
midday. Nightfall
began upon us near
the Britain-Trinsic
bridge. A surge of
magical energy was
heard, it hummed its
song as the rest of us
became backed up on
the blocked bridge.

As soon as the
magical wall had
faded we crossed and
found our companion,
Erol, had
dissapeared. Riddled
with dispair we began
a search for the
missing man.
With nightime
approaching ever
faster he came out
from his hiding.
He told us of his
dreadfull fear of the
arcane, the magical.
I would like to note
that I didn't blame the
man. To me magic flowed from the most
unnatural source of
power in Brittania. I
certainly wouldn't
hide myself from a
magic wall, but I
would prefer a long
walk over a recall any
day. So this man had a
point.

He continued
to a small tent and
campfire, telling us
his plans to continue
during the daylight
hours when the
theives and
murderers were less
likely to attack a
humble old hermit.
It was by the fire
that we all huddled. I
and my guildmate sat
on a rock and listened
to the uneasy laughter
and rigid speach of
the rusted warriors
that had come along.
Their stories were as
vast as the sea. Still I
hope I will remember
some of them for a
warriors tale.

Erol stood with his
brown shag beard and
untamed hair, draped
in his dusty brown
cloak.

"Well, perhaps we
can get part of the
compensation out of
the way now by
telling you the secret I
had promised."

We all silenced in
anticipation. I started
scrawling in my
notebook in hopes to etch a picture and the
secret in lasting
memory. He
continued, the flames
of the fire lighting
him from behind.

"How about a legend
of this very forest."
He paused to scan the
weathered faces of
the party. "My friend
first told me of this
story and it did put
fear into my very
soul."
And thus began the story.

"There was a
hermit who
experemented
with herbs, weeds,
anything he could
discover in the forest
and he discovered a
great deal. He found that he
required one thing that
he could not get
especially since he
had been a hermit for
the majority of his
adult life"

An elbow nudged my side and a young
warrior mouthed
'Laid'. A few muffled
snickers escaped the
crowd and let a little
tension out. Erol didn't
notice and continued
his speech.

"... learning to fend
for himself against
nature and monsters.
The one component he
required, one day,
wandered into his
small area. Twas a young lass by the name of
Madelyn. She was
very lovely, legend
has it. But, he was not
concerned with her
looks, nor her mind.
He was concerned
with the soul and how
it functioned with her
body and used her for
his vile experiments.
My friend told me
that the hermit had
never been found and
the only way the
story was told this far was because of a
few adventurers,
alive and well years
after the incident. They say he
succeeded in his
experiments even, but
required the flow of
one steady component
which grew in
number over and over
again." Now he looked
to each of us as a chill
was sent down our
spines.

"Have you heard this legend before? Or
have you heard of the
hermit's small area
within the woods?"
There were a few
quiet nays.

"Perhaps not, but I
can tell you it looked a
great deal like this
one." The clank of
swords could be heard
as the warriors began
to stand and slide their
hands to their
sheaths. "Madelyn
did not live to tell the tale. Only the hermit
could live on and show
others his vile
creations.

"The hermit named
Erol!" He burst into
blood curdling
laughter. His skin began to shift to a
thick red leather. He
grew to the size of a
giant and sprouted
wings. The skeletal and lich
minions swarmed the
small crew. You could hear screams as the
souls lifted from the
body. This was the
exact sound Erol
loved. The undead left a
stench of war
lingering in the air. I
forced myself to raise
a kryss to the
skeletals, knowing
that if I was attacked
by more that I was
sure to join their
ranks.

Erol cheered his
mob on, swating the
few warriors and
mages that
surrounded him back.
Many arrows and
swords slid across the
tough skin unharmed.
As more and more
fell, the battle seemed
without hope. Our
valiant were hoarded
against the thin walls
of the tent. Our
healers were busy
themselves healing
those most in need or
those most valuable.

It was by the
brightening light of
the new day that
hours of raging battle
came to a hault. We
stood staring at the
giant bodies of the
daemons, the
withering flesh of
zombies, white-
washed bones of
skeletons, and glowing
bodies of liches.
Sighing in releif we
started to heal our
wounds.

Then a youth
emerged, a young
maiden as beautifull
as her tale had told.
Madelyn smiled to us,
and gave us her
thanks for killing her
tormentor. For now
she was finally free.
She gave us each a
bit of gold to pay for
our expense, much
less than the jewls
and treasure he had
promised us for the
escort. However, we
had our lives. Which
was not something
that everyone who
traveled along could
say.
The rest of his
treasure would go to
the Healers of Trinsic
we were told.

As the sun shone
high and ended a long
day of adventuring,
we all parted to the
promise of a new
adventure and a forest
that was just a little
bit safer from the
hermit named Erol.



----

{{DEFAULTSORT:Legend of Erol, The }}
[[Category:Alphabetical by Title]]
[[Category:Stories and Legends]]

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Abbot Eventide: Protected "The Legend of Erol" (‎[edit=sysop] (indefinite) ‎[move=sysop] (indefinite))

Abbot Eventide: Created page with "'''Title: The Legend of Erol ''' '''Author: Lucas Eventide ''' We knew little of our fates for that dim night. The town cryer spoke to us about a Hermit in need of esc..."