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The Corrlands - a lurker's story hour (Updated 1/8/3)
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<blockquote data-quote="Torx" data-source="post: 578802" data-attributes="member: 2730"><p><strong>Chapter 1 - A Departure From History</strong></p><p></p><p>“It is from history that we gain our perspective. Erudition in this manner begetting Kapah will aid the young scholar in future decisions and endeavors.” The historian’s speech droned on, beckoning boredom.</p><p> </p><p>Emeric li Kasostar stared blankly past his instructor into the sophisticated wilderness. A Lacosa wren perched daintily on a branch just beyond the reaches of the gazebo Emeric and the teacher shared. The wren, normally a timid bird, dared to serenade Emeric’s lesson, supplementing the tedious speech about the history of the Corrlands, the elves, and their kingdom of Kaso. The bird’s song was sweet, nearly matching Tisil, Emeric’s favorite bard, and his flute playing. <em>Nearly.</em></p><p> </p><p>The sole heir to the throne of Kaso, Emeric cut a dashing figure. He had always placed more stock in fashion than in history. He wore a black V-neck shirt with lace abounding the wrists and neck. He wore black leather riding pants, though he had not ridden a horse in several years. To contrast, he wore a green belt made from dyed and preserved spotted apple leaves. He had sandy brown hair, falling loosely to graze his shoulders. A bad habit had Emeric perpetually tucking hair behind his elven ears. His chin was slight, his eyes doe-like. It was often jested beyond his hearing that he could charm the hooves off a deer, but elven maidens fell to his looks just as easily.</p><p> </p><p>Emeric sat within the boughs of an old maple. Here the tree had been asked to form a seating area which Emeric found to his liking. A succinct gazebo had been constructed overhead so that Emeric could be bored daily by his numerous instructors of the arts. He was forced to endure lessons in history, language, and etiquette. Emeric wore a curt grimace at the thought of Professor Lergas arriving shortly to teach proper protocol for greeting Däkk dwarves in their halls. Emeric decided he would need to avoid the rest of his lessons for the day.</p><p> </p><p>Lithe as the Lacosa wren, Emeric stood up, took four long strides, and leapt from the maple branches. Twenty feet below the gazebo, Emeric tumbled as he landed, rolling to avoid injury. He sprung from his crouch into a full run, seeking the imperceptible border of the elven city. Emeric darted amongst the trees and houses of his home city. Nimbly shunning notice, Emeric paused and hid at any noise or happenstance.</p><p> </p><p>Amidst his escape from tedium, Emeric pondered what his mother would say once receiving word of her son shirking his lessons yet again. His mother was, of course, the Queen of the Kaso, and his “impetuousness” reflected poorly on her. Queen Anista Kasostar had always raised him unfairly. She forced on him the horrific lessons. She rarely let him study what he truly enjoyed: soldiering. His mother also refused to allow him to court the many noble elf maidens beckoning his attention. Emeric considered it vastly unjust on all accounts.</p><p> </p><p>By all regards, he was now a man: the kingdom just celebrating his 111th birthday. He should now be able to make his own decisions and not be countermanded by his mother. “Who cares about the Gods and the Corr anyways?” Emeric dared speak aloud since he knew he was out of even elven hear shot by now. He paused to take a look up at the trees, to determine his location after the sprint. To the Southeast he located his spotted apple tree.</p><p> </p><p>The tree was not unique in the forest, he knew, but it was rare. He had prized it for the past sixty years, from the day he planted the seed that grew into his tree. This was his spot of the forest, his place of solace, his Unicorn Glade. He knew the Unicorns had left Kaso long ago, but he imagined they would visit his tree if they still frolicked under the canopy. He also euphemistically referred to his spotted apple as the Unicorn Glade to his mother or anyone else who asks where he spends his time out in the Kasonian Forest.</p><p> </p><p>Emeric approached the spotted apple and paused reverently in front of the sixty year old tree. He placed his hands before him and the tree, palms together, fingers facing skyward. He moved his hands upward, spreading his fingers and eventually his palms apart as he did so – a silent prayer to Kome, the Forestmaiden. He then knelt by a nearby bush and retrieved his satchel. Emeric pulled from within Gist, his trusty rapier.</p><p> </p><p>Steward Fuery had bequeathed Gist upon Prince Emeric li Kasostar on his 99th birthday, the traditional date to receive one’s life weapon. Queen Anista did not approve, hoping for a smaller, less lethal weapon for her young son. Still, Gist was a glorious weapon. The pommel was shaped like the apex of a fountain, the water-metal rushing downward to protect the hand of the wielder. Gist’s blade was thin, flexible, sharp, and exceeded the balance of any other rapier Emeric had used.</p><p> </p><p>Gazing at his favorite sword, Emeric decided that perhaps his lessons were not over for the day. He freed Gist from its scabbard and began practicing moves he had learned from the captain of the Star Guardians, Hituun Marin. Emeric’s style was predominately offensive, as the rapier does not much of a parrying edge. Yet, his moves were graceful, one maneuver flowing to the next as a waterfall gives water to a pool.</p><p> </p><p>Emeric practiced his twirling offense past the point sweat gathered on his brow and his right arm, the wielder of Gist, grew tired. He practiced until he noted the presence of others at the Unicorn Glade. He aimed Gist to his side, turned and tumbled, bringing the point up to meet the defenseless throat of the intruder. The point stayed there, hovering as Emeric’s eyes met those of Steward Fuery’s.</p><p> </p><p>“Greetings, O Star of Kaso. Forgive me if I forgo the traditional greeting bow.” The Steward’s voice was dry and mocking. Besides his statement, he did not seem to notice Gist’s point nearly touching his flesh.</p><p> </p><p>Emeric was angered with the intrusion into his sacred Unicorn Glade. He demanded, “What are you doing here?”</p><p> </p><p>“The Queen beseeched me to find you. Professor Marxon was quite perturbed as to your apparent disregard for the significance of the Minotaur Invasions.” Fuery’s gaze had still not wavered from Emeric’s. Nor did the point of Gist waver from the Steward’s throat. Emeric’s anger was too hot. “Please, lower your blade, I beg of you.”</p><p> </p><p>Emeric complied with the request. “Now that you’ve found me Fuery, what would you ask of me?”</p><p> </p><p>Steward Fuery ki Orban was not a young elf. Emeric was unsure as to the number of centuries Fuery carried, but he would wager it was above five at least. Fuery did not strike an imposing stature. Instead, he bent slightly over an oak staff and wore brown robes seemingly woven from the earth of the Kaso itself. He wore a seven-pointed star around his neck, denoting his status as Steward of Kaso. His position required him to oversee many of the mundane tasks not fit for royalty, but still necessary to ensure the proper operation of a kingdom. The Steward was handpicked by Emeric’s grandfather, King Pioril Kasostar, and he would have ruled the throne upon Pioril’s death had not Emeric’s mother, Anista come of age two days prior. Fuery’s eyes spoke of the volumes of intelligence housed behind.</p><p> </p><p>Fuery finally broke the stalemate of gazes and began to stroll around the Unicorn Glade, hands behind his back. “I’m curious to discover what vexes my Prince, so that I may repair his injuries. I’m afraid he has been acting like a human.”</p><p> </p><p>Emeric took that as a blunt way of calling him young and impetuous. Not that Emeric would know, never have met a human. He still read the remark as an insult though. “It is you that lurks about like a human, Fuery! And you know what troubles me. It’s my mother, and how she always treats me like a child. She continues to forbid me from even training in this.” Emeric held up Gist for Fuery to see.</p><p> </p><p>Yet Fuery’s eyes appeared only to look at the spotted apple. “Emeric, you have always been as if you were my own son. You have not had a father to care for you as I have. That’s why it pains me to see you as I do now.” His eyes looked toward Emeric’s, pain clearly evident.</p><p> </p><p>“What are you driving at, Fuery?”</p><p> </p><p>“It is this, my Prince! Look at you, stealing away from your lessons, clearly defying your mother’s wishes. You are restless, and it serves Kaso not.”</p><p> </p><p>Emeric was dumbfounded. No one had ever spoken to him like this. Subterfuge and veils were the way of the court, not direct candor. He was drawn to Fuery’s remarks. “What would you have me do?”</p><p> </p><p>“You have never been outside of Kaso, have you?” Emeric shook his head. “I doubt you’ve stepped one stride passed your precious glade here. Yet I sense the adventure brewing in you, young Kasostar. Your mother had it too when she was your age.”</p><p> </p><p>Emeric’s eyes widened in shock. His mother had always been stuffy and dreary. He didn’t even learn to ride a horse until he was fifty, for his mother’s fears of him falling and splitting his skull. Perhaps it was because he never had a father, she felt she needed to be both loving mother and strict authoritarian with him. Perhaps it was because her grip on the kingdom wasn’t as strong as she hoped, and she practiced on him. Whatever the reason, Emeric could not imagine his mother feeling as restive as he had his entire life.</p><p> </p><p>Emeric needed more information, “What about Mother? What did she do when she was my age?”</p><p> </p><p>Fuery’s eyes sparkled; Emeric assumed it was from tears for his regard. “She left for a few years, much to your grandfather’s chagrin. When she returned, she was carrying you in her arms: her infant son.”</p><p> </p><p>That spoke against all his mother had ever told him. She claimed he was a miracle birth, granted upon her by Kome herself. <em>A fatherless pregnancy? What a fool I’ve been!</em> Of course Anista had gone and gotten herself pregnant. That explains her doting nature.</p><p> </p><p>Emeric spoke without contemplating what his words truly meant, “I won’t be as irresponsible when I leave.”</p><p> </p><p>“Of course you won’t, my Prince. Where will you go to?”</p><p> </p><p>Emeric had never thought practically about leaving the Kasonian Forest. Of course he had dreamed of being outside of his mother’s clutches, but where to go? Such thoughts had never reached consideration. “I’m not quite sure, Fuery. Have you any suggestions?”</p><p> </p><p>“If I might allow myself, may I suggest Bayport? It is only a hundred leagues to the south, through friendly terrain and territory. I have friends there who could make your acquaintance. The city is enormous, and it would be easy for the Prince to travel incognito.”</p><p> </p><p>A hundred leagues? “That is a long way to travel. How will I ever make it?” Emeric blanched at the thought of such a long journey. However, the mystique offered by Bayport intrigued the young Kasostar. The largest and most diverse city in all the Corrlands, Bayport proffered much for the eager eyes of the Prince.</p><p> </p><p>“I could make a gift to you of my horse, Terras. I have him tied a thousand paces downwind. You could make your leave tonight. I have in his saddlebags travel clothing and rations for a week.” Emeric gave the Steward an incredulous look. “I was anticipating a long search for you. But if you are to leave, you must make haste! The Star Guardians are also instructed to find you. You must be quick and stealthy in order to escape their alertness.”</p><p> </p><p>Emeric was never slow to make up his mind. He sheathed Gist and gathered his satchel, containing the rest of his important belongings. He grasped Fuery’s forearm in an embrace of brotherhood, not formality. The Steward returned the embrace and bid his Prince farewell.</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Torx, post: 578802, member: 2730"] [b]Chapter 1 - A Departure From History[/b] “It is from history that we gain our perspective. Erudition in this manner begetting Kapah will aid the young scholar in future decisions and endeavors.” The historian’s speech droned on, beckoning boredom. Emeric li Kasostar stared blankly past his instructor into the sophisticated wilderness. A Lacosa wren perched daintily on a branch just beyond the reaches of the gazebo Emeric and the teacher shared. The wren, normally a timid bird, dared to serenade Emeric’s lesson, supplementing the tedious speech about the history of the Corrlands, the elves, and their kingdom of Kaso. The bird’s song was sweet, nearly matching Tisil, Emeric’s favorite bard, and his flute playing. [I]Nearly.[/I] The sole heir to the throne of Kaso, Emeric cut a dashing figure. He had always placed more stock in fashion than in history. He wore a black V-neck shirt with lace abounding the wrists and neck. He wore black leather riding pants, though he had not ridden a horse in several years. To contrast, he wore a green belt made from dyed and preserved spotted apple leaves. He had sandy brown hair, falling loosely to graze his shoulders. A bad habit had Emeric perpetually tucking hair behind his elven ears. His chin was slight, his eyes doe-like. It was often jested beyond his hearing that he could charm the hooves off a deer, but elven maidens fell to his looks just as easily. Emeric sat within the boughs of an old maple. Here the tree had been asked to form a seating area which Emeric found to his liking. A succinct gazebo had been constructed overhead so that Emeric could be bored daily by his numerous instructors of the arts. He was forced to endure lessons in history, language, and etiquette. Emeric wore a curt grimace at the thought of Professor Lergas arriving shortly to teach proper protocol for greeting Däkk dwarves in their halls. Emeric decided he would need to avoid the rest of his lessons for the day. Lithe as the Lacosa wren, Emeric stood up, took four long strides, and leapt from the maple branches. Twenty feet below the gazebo, Emeric tumbled as he landed, rolling to avoid injury. He sprung from his crouch into a full run, seeking the imperceptible border of the elven city. Emeric darted amongst the trees and houses of his home city. Nimbly shunning notice, Emeric paused and hid at any noise or happenstance. Amidst his escape from tedium, Emeric pondered what his mother would say once receiving word of her son shirking his lessons yet again. His mother was, of course, the Queen of the Kaso, and his “impetuousness” reflected poorly on her. Queen Anista Kasostar had always raised him unfairly. She forced on him the horrific lessons. She rarely let him study what he truly enjoyed: soldiering. His mother also refused to allow him to court the many noble elf maidens beckoning his attention. Emeric considered it vastly unjust on all accounts. By all regards, he was now a man: the kingdom just celebrating his 111th birthday. He should now be able to make his own decisions and not be countermanded by his mother. “Who cares about the Gods and the Corr anyways?” Emeric dared speak aloud since he knew he was out of even elven hear shot by now. He paused to take a look up at the trees, to determine his location after the sprint. To the Southeast he located his spotted apple tree. The tree was not unique in the forest, he knew, but it was rare. He had prized it for the past sixty years, from the day he planted the seed that grew into his tree. This was his spot of the forest, his place of solace, his Unicorn Glade. He knew the Unicorns had left Kaso long ago, but he imagined they would visit his tree if they still frolicked under the canopy. He also euphemistically referred to his spotted apple as the Unicorn Glade to his mother or anyone else who asks where he spends his time out in the Kasonian Forest. Emeric approached the spotted apple and paused reverently in front of the sixty year old tree. He placed his hands before him and the tree, palms together, fingers facing skyward. He moved his hands upward, spreading his fingers and eventually his palms apart as he did so – a silent prayer to Kome, the Forestmaiden. He then knelt by a nearby bush and retrieved his satchel. Emeric pulled from within Gist, his trusty rapier. Steward Fuery had bequeathed Gist upon Prince Emeric li Kasostar on his 99th birthday, the traditional date to receive one’s life weapon. Queen Anista did not approve, hoping for a smaller, less lethal weapon for her young son. Still, Gist was a glorious weapon. The pommel was shaped like the apex of a fountain, the water-metal rushing downward to protect the hand of the wielder. Gist’s blade was thin, flexible, sharp, and exceeded the balance of any other rapier Emeric had used. Gazing at his favorite sword, Emeric decided that perhaps his lessons were not over for the day. He freed Gist from its scabbard and began practicing moves he had learned from the captain of the Star Guardians, Hituun Marin. Emeric’s style was predominately offensive, as the rapier does not much of a parrying edge. Yet, his moves were graceful, one maneuver flowing to the next as a waterfall gives water to a pool. Emeric practiced his twirling offense past the point sweat gathered on his brow and his right arm, the wielder of Gist, grew tired. He practiced until he noted the presence of others at the Unicorn Glade. He aimed Gist to his side, turned and tumbled, bringing the point up to meet the defenseless throat of the intruder. The point stayed there, hovering as Emeric’s eyes met those of Steward Fuery’s. “Greetings, O Star of Kaso. Forgive me if I forgo the traditional greeting bow.” The Steward’s voice was dry and mocking. Besides his statement, he did not seem to notice Gist’s point nearly touching his flesh. Emeric was angered with the intrusion into his sacred Unicorn Glade. He demanded, “What are you doing here?” “The Queen beseeched me to find you. Professor Marxon was quite perturbed as to your apparent disregard for the significance of the Minotaur Invasions.” Fuery’s gaze had still not wavered from Emeric’s. Nor did the point of Gist waver from the Steward’s throat. Emeric’s anger was too hot. “Please, lower your blade, I beg of you.” Emeric complied with the request. “Now that you’ve found me Fuery, what would you ask of me?” Steward Fuery ki Orban was not a young elf. Emeric was unsure as to the number of centuries Fuery carried, but he would wager it was above five at least. Fuery did not strike an imposing stature. Instead, he bent slightly over an oak staff and wore brown robes seemingly woven from the earth of the Kaso itself. He wore a seven-pointed star around his neck, denoting his status as Steward of Kaso. His position required him to oversee many of the mundane tasks not fit for royalty, but still necessary to ensure the proper operation of a kingdom. The Steward was handpicked by Emeric’s grandfather, King Pioril Kasostar, and he would have ruled the throne upon Pioril’s death had not Emeric’s mother, Anista come of age two days prior. Fuery’s eyes spoke of the volumes of intelligence housed behind. Fuery finally broke the stalemate of gazes and began to stroll around the Unicorn Glade, hands behind his back. “I’m curious to discover what vexes my Prince, so that I may repair his injuries. I’m afraid he has been acting like a human.” Emeric took that as a blunt way of calling him young and impetuous. Not that Emeric would know, never have met a human. He still read the remark as an insult though. “It is you that lurks about like a human, Fuery! And you know what troubles me. It’s my mother, and how she always treats me like a child. She continues to forbid me from even training in this.” Emeric held up Gist for Fuery to see. Yet Fuery’s eyes appeared only to look at the spotted apple. “Emeric, you have always been as if you were my own son. You have not had a father to care for you as I have. That’s why it pains me to see you as I do now.” His eyes looked toward Emeric’s, pain clearly evident. “What are you driving at, Fuery?” “It is this, my Prince! Look at you, stealing away from your lessons, clearly defying your mother’s wishes. You are restless, and it serves Kaso not.” Emeric was dumbfounded. No one had ever spoken to him like this. Subterfuge and veils were the way of the court, not direct candor. He was drawn to Fuery’s remarks. “What would you have me do?” “You have never been outside of Kaso, have you?” Emeric shook his head. “I doubt you’ve stepped one stride passed your precious glade here. Yet I sense the adventure brewing in you, young Kasostar. Your mother had it too when she was your age.” Emeric’s eyes widened in shock. His mother had always been stuffy and dreary. He didn’t even learn to ride a horse until he was fifty, for his mother’s fears of him falling and splitting his skull. Perhaps it was because he never had a father, she felt she needed to be both loving mother and strict authoritarian with him. Perhaps it was because her grip on the kingdom wasn’t as strong as she hoped, and she practiced on him. Whatever the reason, Emeric could not imagine his mother feeling as restive as he had his entire life. Emeric needed more information, “What about Mother? What did she do when she was my age?” Fuery’s eyes sparkled; Emeric assumed it was from tears for his regard. “She left for a few years, much to your grandfather’s chagrin. When she returned, she was carrying you in her arms: her infant son.” That spoke against all his mother had ever told him. She claimed he was a miracle birth, granted upon her by Kome herself. [I]A fatherless pregnancy? What a fool I’ve been![/I] Of course Anista had gone and gotten herself pregnant. That explains her doting nature. Emeric spoke without contemplating what his words truly meant, “I won’t be as irresponsible when I leave.” “Of course you won’t, my Prince. Where will you go to?” Emeric had never thought practically about leaving the Kasonian Forest. Of course he had dreamed of being outside of his mother’s clutches, but where to go? Such thoughts had never reached consideration. “I’m not quite sure, Fuery. Have you any suggestions?” “If I might allow myself, may I suggest Bayport? It is only a hundred leagues to the south, through friendly terrain and territory. I have friends there who could make your acquaintance. The city is enormous, and it would be easy for the Prince to travel incognito.” A hundred leagues? “That is a long way to travel. How will I ever make it?” Emeric blanched at the thought of such a long journey. However, the mystique offered by Bayport intrigued the young Kasostar. The largest and most diverse city in all the Corrlands, Bayport proffered much for the eager eyes of the Prince. “I could make a gift to you of my horse, Terras. I have him tied a thousand paces downwind. You could make your leave tonight. I have in his saddlebags travel clothing and rations for a week.” Emeric gave the Steward an incredulous look. “I was anticipating a long search for you. But if you are to leave, you must make haste! The Star Guardians are also instructed to find you. You must be quick and stealthy in order to escape their alertness.” Emeric was never slow to make up his mind. He sheathed Gist and gathered his satchel, containing the rest of his important belongings. He grasped Fuery’s forearm in an embrace of brotherhood, not formality. The Steward returned the embrace and bid his Prince farewell. [/QUOTE]
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