The Pendorian Chronicles

[mp84]

The Beginnings:
Part I

The hospice hallway was dimmed and there was lingering smell of bleach as I walked down towards Vance’s room. I knew that he was dying and the summons I received from his sister meant that the end was near. It had been a long year and Vance, my friend since college, had struggled with and will finally succumb to, the cancer that he was diagnosed with last Christmas. What a lousy year this had been.

I knocked at the door and entered, pulling the linen drapes aside I saw that he was lying in one of those high end hospital beds, a bright red blanket up to his chest and an IV drip was attached to his left hand. I knew it was morphine. He looked gaunt and tired, his hair was uncombed and he had a pale look to him. Not just pale, but worn, almost translucent. He smiled as I entered.

“Hello champ how goes it?”

I bantered as I sat down in the chair closest to the bed.

“Hey! I have been waiting for you slacker.”

He said in a strained voice, barely above a whisper.

“How am I? I’ve been better.”

A small mischievous smile crept across his face.

“You see that hot nurse out there? Too bad she’s taken. I can’t talk her out of dumping her fiancée and running off with me to Tahiti.”

His smile ended in a slight grimace and a spasmodic cough.

“Sorry, the morphine is still kicking in. The pain is not fun.”

He said. There was a moment pause where we just looked at each other. Memories flooded me, the times we had shared, and a sense of what this man meant to me as my friend. Dam few friends these days to lose any more, especially ones that were so important.

Seeming to sense my mood, Vance smiled,

“I still think you should have bought the Jag.”

I laughed as my mind flashed back to a time when I could have bought my dream car for a song. I procrastinated and it was sold out underneath me before I mustered the guts to sign on the dotted line. Vance said that I was a fool and went to some pains to remind me of his ignored advice for going on twenty years now. Never of course, in front of my wife, but when we were alone, it was almost a mantra. Twenty years? Yes, I recounted them; I had known this man as my friend over half my life.

“I have something for you.”

He said and he motioned to the table next to him. There was what looked to be a large stationary box.

“Open it.”

He said, so I reached over and grabbed the box. It was much heavier than I had anticipated and brought to my lap where I carefully opened it. Inside was what looked to be a typed manuscript.

“I have been working on this for a long time”, he said, “and now I want you to have it.”

He paused as I took a moment and inspected the pages, several hundred, neatly typed. This surprised me, as I had no inkling that Vance was a writer.

“I don’t understand”

I said, unable to contain my confusion.

He smiled, and said,

“Read the introduction.”

He then closed his eyes and sighed,

“I will just take a short nap here while you do. Wake me if that hot nurse comes in. I have to work in her some more.”

I smiled then turned my attention to the box in my lap. The introduction was twenty pages long, talking about of all things, the nature of the universe. Specifically how there are infinite variations of reality played out in alternate dimensions and explained fairly well under the general term of Quantum Physics. It went on to cite references and theories and wove an intricate argument of how every story, every act of artistic creation was a momentary breach between these infinite dimensions bringing that “reality” back into our own. Every story, every novel, every “fantasy world” was in fact, in some other alternate dimension and therefore real. It ended with a question in that do we really pull this stuff from alternate dimensions, or by the act of inspiration do we cause its existence? Do we create infinite universes by our acts of creativity and storytelling?

I looked up maybe twenty minutes later to see Vance watching me. He smiled and whispered,

“Keep reading.”

then shut his eyes again. I looked down at Chapter One, and I started reading about the history of this medieval fantasy kingdom: Pendor.

Credits:
Saxondragon

[mp84]

The Beginnings:
Part II

Almost a Millennium ago
The war of the Titans laid the foundation for the ascension of Man. A terrible war, between ancient elder races left the world stripped of magic, and those magnificent mythical people, once so powerful, were now only the stuff of folklore and legends. Only the reclusive Noldor, what since “The Lord of the Rings”, we call “Elves” remain from those times, and their once great cities are all destroyed save perhaps one.

Three hundred fifty four years ago – the Founding of Pendor.
It is the time of Man. The story centers on the fertile lands of Pendor and the struggles of the peoples, their leaders and their destiny. Several hundred years ago, a single Kingdom was forged by sword and fire. A peace was maintained and prosperity came to the kingdom and it flourished. Five generations of Pendorian Kings sat on the Silver Throne in Sarleon and for nearly two hundred years they guided the destiny of their land and it’s subjects.

From the Founding of Pendor – the year is 198
The downfall of the Kingdom was as swift as it was and vile. A single month, thirty days, and the empire was in tatters. The irony was it was not by the sword in battle, nor by some dark magic that caused the deaths of the King and his family. But by an unseen killer, a disease, the red plague that ravaged the land and cut down the peoples of the Kingdom, great and small, like an assassin in the night.

The royal family had perished, and there was no King to rule the land. Then came the invasions that seemed to shatter the once proud kingdom into slivers and the glory that was once the Kingdom of Pendor, was now itself the stuff of legend.

With the death of the King and his heirs, there was chaos. Multiple lords laid claim to the throne and nearly every noble of the land began squabbling over succession.

From the Founding of Pendor – the year is 199
The carefully laid agreements, truces and alliances with neighboring powers became suspect. In the North, the mountain tribesmen began raiding the heartlands of Pendor. Embolden by their success and the lack of response from the Knights of the Realm, they struck even deeper and soon this led to the siege to Rane. The Earl of Rane sought help from the nobles of the land, but the schemes of the powerful found reasons not to come to
his aid. Many Northern Lords, banded together and formed a small army that marched to defend the city from the onslaught of the northern Mystmountain warriors.. The battle was bloody and fierce, and in the end, the siege was lifted, and the barbarian tribesmen and their shaman leaders, routed back to their mountain homes. The Northern Lords, who fought so valiantly that day, decided to establish a knighthood order, the Order of the
Dragon, comprised of the valiant warriors who defended the city. News of this new order was not well received by other knighthood orders or by the nobility to the South. They demanded that the Order of the Dragon be disbanded which in the minds of the proud warriors of the North, was an unforgivable insult to their valor. The scorn of other established knighthood and the lack of support to route the invaders from Rane prompted
the Northern Lords to break ties with the southern lords and declared themselves an independent Kingdom: The Kingdom of Ravenstern.

Reeling from the succession of the Northern cities and lords, the remaining Pendorian nobility were not prepared to meet the next challenge that followed within a few short years.

From the Founding of Pendor – the year is 202
From the South, over the southern sea, the great Baccus empire launched an invasion fleet and landed a powerful army on the shores of Pendor led by the war hardened General Oasar. He drove inland conquering cities and castles, and seemed unstoppable. Ironically, within a few short months of campaigning, the general received by messenger that the great Baccus Empire itself was in civil war and that the Emperor had been assassinated.
After receiving this shocking news, Oasar established himself, with the support of several Pendor Lords, as Overlord of Janos and officially broke away from what was left of the Baccus Empire. The great Baccus Empire convoluted and fragmented into dozens of principalities, city-states and kingdoms. The greatest and most powerful is the under the dominion of the priesthood of the serpent: a powerful and seemingly mystical religion of warrior priests who worship the unnamed goddess of darkness who manifests herself in the form of a snake.

For the once great kingdom of Pendor, that meant that a large portion of it’s Southern lands, cities and nobility were now either dead or sworn to service under this upstart general who calls himself Overlord.

From the Founding of Pendor – the year is 204
After the establishment of the Northern Kingdom of Ravenstern and the invasion of Oasar, the powerful Lord Alfred, Duke of Sarleon, consolidated the remaining lords of Pendor and declared himself King of Sarleon. For ten years a measure of peace was maintained.

From the Founding of Pendor – the year is 213
To the far north, across the seas lived the hearty warriors of the Vanskerry. Segmented into Jarldoms, they were raiders and traders. With the Baccus Empire gone, many of the Vanskerry mercenaries in their employ were free to return home to the frosty shores of their fathers. A wise man’s musings in the reaches of Vanskerry goes “Death is found in the blade of your enemy and trouble when a warrior has nothing to do.” When word came to the North of the troubles of Pendor, it was greeted with a call to arms and promises of plunder and women. Soon, raiding ships found the shores of Pendor a ripe land full of gold and wealth. Their well-armed and hearty warriors began raiding the towns and villages along the coast and met very little resistance. The Knights of the Lion and Lords of Sarleon responded by patrolling the coastal shores. Yet, still the crafty Vanskerry raiders managed to sack village after village. With so little ability to defend themselves, the merchant lords of the Pendorian coastal provinces sent delegations to the Jarldoms to seek alliances and protection. At first they were rejected, but in time as offers included titles and lands many Jarls and their huscarls began to listen.

The lands of Vanskerry are rugged and cold, compared with the lush and rich pastures of Pendor. The lure of good weather, and the chance to become a Lord of a castle, or even a well-located mayor of a village, appealed to many of the Jarls. Soon, many Vanskerry households left the shores of their fathers and sought fortune and prosperity along the coast of Pendor. Some entered into the service of the Pendorian lords, others married into the noble families. This changed many things in the Kingdom, as the warrior culture and attitudes of Vanskerry were brought into the noble houses of the coastal lords. Within a generation the culture gap was so great that the coastal nobles broke away from the King of Sarleon and formed a rough alliance of city-states called collectively the Fierdsvain.

From the Founding of Pendor – the year is 204 to 245
The story continued and detailed intrigues, war and heroic actions as well as the great villains of the land. There were stories of the Jatu tribesmen and their flight from the Empire and General Oasar, becoming nomads in the Eastern prairies of Pendor. There are the detailed accounts of the Order of the Lion, a knighthood order of Pendor, and their history and their betrayal by one of their own which had the order declared outlaw for years until their redemption under the current King of Sarleon. Chapters were dedicated to the D’Shar, a nomadic peoples who are evolving into a military and economic force only to find that their own worst enemy is themselves. Just as fascinating was the references to the encounters with the ancient Noldor and their powerful weapons and enchantments that changed the life of more than one adventurer. I was especially drawn to the story of Madigan, a wandering mystic who prophesized the coming of a hero who would unite the lords of the Pendor and reunite the old kingdom. His saga touched me as a hero himself, trying to speak the truth and being condemned to death for his beliefs.

I was startled out of my reading by the nurse telling me that visiting hours were over.

It was late, and I had spent most of the afternoon and early evening captured by the amazing story I held in my hands. I skipped quickly to the last pages and found them blank. I realized suddenly that the final chapters were missing.

I looked at Vance, who once again was awake, and watching me.
Guessing my question and concern he said,

“I do not have the answer to the last chapters. Those will have to be written. Perhaps when you write them, it will create those dimensions, those realities. I do not know for sure, but I suspect that is the case. I am too tired now to continue. That is why I asked you here today mate. Finish the story.”

He reached over and took my hand and gave it a hard squeeze.

“I am tired mate and I have to sleep”

He said in a half dreamy voice. It was the morphine I knew, finally giving him relief to the awful pain he must be feeling. I smiled at him and he shut his eyes and went to sleep.

Credits:
Saxondragon

[mp84]

Revelations:
Part I

I remember that this was my last encounter with my friend, Vance. His funeral was three months ago and I still have a hard time believing that there can be no answer if I call him. Loss is funny like that. It sneaks up at odd moments and tangles up your thoughts in a net of sorrow.

Much had happened of late that helped keep my mind off Vance, and my grief at his death. I lost my job as part of a sweeping layoff due to the bad economy, and was frantically trying to find work to pay the bills. Christmas was fast approaching. During that time, in accordance with Vance’s last wishes, I created a “Module” for a game called “Mount&Blade” as a way to bring Vance’s story to life.

Vance’s story, and my approach to it as a game, has been well received. I felt that my work on Vance’s legacy was done.

Then, Vance’s sister, Jenny, knocked at my door and dropped a small bombshell on me. Jenny was the executor of her brother’s estate, and, while she was clearing out the house preparatory to selling the property, came across several boxes of notes, interviews, half written manuscripts and drawings. She decided that Vance would want me to have them, and brought them over. I numbly accepted them, said a few lame words of condolence and, after several awkward moments, we said goodbye to one another.

It upset me a bit that Vance had obviously done an amazing amount of work on this project but had never even mentioned it to me. Vance and I were very different in temperament, even though we were good friends. He liked to live in the moment, and was “people smart,” whereas I was what he called “book smart”. I suppose I was berating myself for not knowing my friend as well as I thought I had, and was saddened at knowing him better after his death.

There was a time a few years ago, when Vance disappeared on a business trip for about six months. We never discussed it. He rarely talked about his life, and I had a feeling that he liked to live on the edge, perhaps even a tad nefariously. Even though he often vanished for a week at a time, that extended hiatus, with 20-20 hindsight, sticks in my mind as a turning point. Vance was different after that journey. He seemed slightly more introspective and just "different” after that particular trip. After he returned, I saw him more often.

Recalling my wife’s allergies to mold and her probable reaction to having our living area turned into a storage facility, I began exploring the boxes with an eye to organizing them. In one of the very first boxes I inspected, I found a very thick book with old, cracked leather bindings. The pages were hand hand-written, and very fragile, and reeked of mold. It struck me as interesting, so I opened it and began to read.

I was not prepared for what I found. Pendor was not Vance’s invention. I spent the next two hours reading and re-reading this journal dated 1888, transcribed by someone named Jonas. The more I read, the more confused I became. Jonas had received it from an ex-Benedictine monk, who lived as a hermit in Landes, France.

Jonas had apparently met this hermit regularly, both before and after he left his Order, and had received the story of Pendor, bit by bit, over several years’ time. The initial notes were in French, which Jonas had translated into English. In one entry Jonas wrote that the monk was convinced that he had been “directed” to go to Landes, and to dictate his knowledge to Jonas.

The story itself was fascinating, but seeing my own last name in the journal more than a hundred times set me reeling. I did not know if it was coincidental, but it was certainly unsettling. Where had Vance acquired this journal?

Why did I end up with it? A prudent man would have taken the boxes, unopened, to the dump without delay, but curiosity overcame my caution.

I put the journal aside, and went through the rest of the boxes, to see what I had. I found maps, drawings and many stories, tantalizing snippets, disjointed pieces of a very large puzzle. I stored all the boxes in my garage, where I spent a great deal of time over the next several weeks. I began piecing the jigsaw puzzle into a time line, using the unfinished manuscript, which Vance had given me. Had Vance shown me the entire collection at once, I would have thought him insane, and told him so on the spot.

Vance had done a good job on Pendor, and his transcription served me well to determine that most of these manuscripts dealt with events before and after the time line of the Pendor manuscript. I became more and more drawn to the story of Pendor and want to share with you what I know. I warn you, some of it is unsettling.

Credits:
Saxondragon

[mp84]

Revelations
Part II

I have pieced together only part of the puzzle of love, life, tragedy and sacrifice that made up the history of Pendor, altogether human stories, but alien in many ways. Because of its “other-ness,” some parts of it are difficult to understand. I have transcribed less than half of the story, concentrating on the earliest parts, with an eye to relating the story in a logical progression.

Many years before an event the Pendorian Historians call “The War of the Titans”, humans were organized into tribes and clans, living as hunter/gatherers. There were several elder races, the most prominent being a race that today we call “Elves”. I found vague references to the fact that these beings had come from “elsewhere,” but those references are obscure at best. Apparently, they inhabited a fairly large island far to the Southeast of the lands now called Pendor.

There were other races native to Pendor, Giants, Trolls, Dragons, Furies and Gryphons. These races did not use tools, and their artifacts did not endure as long as those of the Elven race, but they were strong, somehow magical, and very long-lived. Extreme longevity and the use of magic seemed to be the hallmarks of all the elder races. The stories examine the “Elves” to a much greater degree than the other races are described.

These beings lived on an island called Gwythdarian. Their society was organized into Houses, which were ruled by Lords and their families. These houses were both social and political entities; there were five major houses and many minor houses. Their social structure was interesting, as it was divided into distinct social classes. Class was determined early in an elf’s life by a demonstration of personal power, what we would term “Magic.” Elves who demonstrated and could maintain a high level of personal power were called Sindari, and those who failed to do so were called Noldor. The latter lost status in their respective houses and became a servant class. Often members of minor houses would align themselves with the greater houses to provide services and receive a measure of preference. The greater houses were fairly competitive, both amongst themselves and with the lesser houses.

Of particular note is the fact that Elves had children infrequently, so when someone gave birth, the entire House celebrated. For the most part, Elves were scholars and explorers of the use of personal power. Elves did not bother with the race of men, because men did not use Magic, and thus were deemed of lesser status even than the Noldor. This is of interest, as the Sindari often referred to the Noldor as the “invisibles”.

Most of the stories began on Gwythdarian, where there was a disagreement between one of the major Elven Houses, and the rest of the Elven nation. Whilst the event is not explicitly described in my papers and stories, apparently the Sindari of one house did something forbidden with magic power.

At this point, the stories become more detailed. I have paraphrased the hundreds of pages of dialogue and descriptions, which I have uncovered thus far.

The story begins with two young elves born twins, which was exceedingly rare in Elven births. The twins, a boy and a girl, Avaldain and his sister Althea, were unfortunately destined to become Noldor. The Sindari Lord of their house, Lord Gaelrandir crafted a sailing ship and embarked upon a quest to find a reclusive “Oracle” living in the far north. His goal was to seek help to counter the renegade Sindari who were bending their power towards forbidden ends. The twins stowed away on the ship to be close to their father, who was House Under-Steward in the service of Lord Gaelrandir.

After many trials and tribulations they found the “Oracle” and tragically, along the way, the twins’ father, the Under-Steward, died. What happened next is where the story takes strange turns.

At first it seemed that the Oracle was a small Dragon, as this was the form in which the Oracle appeared in its first meeting with Lord Gaelrandir. Later, however, it becomes evident that the Oracle is something altogether different. It lives somewhere else and manifests itself through a pool of water on the island. The Oracle takes control of a nearby willing “host,” which allows the Oracle direct interaction with Pendor. One of its favorite hosts is a small Dragon, which has a general disdain for Elves and an appetite for small white rabbits.

The Oracle decided to help Lord Gaelrandir, but stipulated a steep price for his aid: Althea would have to stay on the island and serve the Oracle for her entire life. Even worse, the Oracle would wipe away all memory of Althea so that no Elf would remember that she had ever existed. There was a heartbreaking account of the good-byes between Avaldain and Althea at the conclusion of this part of the story.

It is also not clear what help, if any, the Oracle gave to Gaelrandir, yet the Elven Lord seemed satisfied and returned to Gwythdarian.

Unknown to Lord Gaelrandir, the Oracle had put Avaldain under a compulsion. He was under a “geas” to return to Gwythdarian, gather together what Noldor he could, and leave Gwythdarian forever.

When the expedition returned to Gwythdarian, the situation had worsened to virtually open warfare. There had been bloodshed, and tensions were strong. No longer was Gwythdarian a haven for the learned, with sweet music floating on the cool breeze. It was a solemn place without sound and the air was heavy with foreboding. Lord Gaelrandir hastened to organize a concerted effort to stop the renegade noble house. He called together the heads of many other houses and held a grand council. He and his allied Sindari were so involved in the struggle before them that they did not notice that Avaldain had gathered several thousand Noldor and sailed for the mainland.

When the Sindari conflict reached its full pinnacle, the fury of magic that was unleashed caused the entire island to sink beneath the sea, killing all the Sindari and forever destroying the magic used by the other elder races. This event led to the eventual extinction of the elder races.

The surviving Noldor roamed Pendor for several months, then finally settled down and built a city next to a lake. Avaldain cloaked the city, having apparently some control over magic, (perhaps granted him by the Oracle, as Noldor had no powers of their own), so that no one could ever find it.

A recurrent theme in the stories is Avaldain’s feeling that something important was missing in his life, and his search for that elusive “something”. Althea often watched Avaldain in his struggles by using the power of the Oracle to scry him. In fact, many of the stories were from the Althea’s perspective and told how she watched her brother’s children, and their children’s children throughout their lives, helping them upon occasion, with no one ever aware she had done so.

Whatever it was that the Sindari had done, a forbidden “something” survived the sinking of Gwythdarian. There were very lengthy dialogues between Althea and the Oracle about countering and defeating this influence in the world and about the sons of Avaldain, who, being part Elf and part Human, had a chance to ultimately put an end to the Sindari influence on the world of Pendor. Further, their victory would ensure that many others, in “other places” would be spared great suffering if the sons of Avaldain were successful. These dialogues gave the general sense that whatever those rogue Sindari had done threatened the existence of the Oracle itself. Additionally, the Kingdom of Pendor was center stage to that conflict. Uniting the Pendorian Kingdom was a prerequisite to countering the remaining Sindari threat.

Madigan, a Prophet of Pendor, who may have been part Elf, made a prophecy recorded by the Pendorian Historians, predicting the coming of a great Warrior/Defender to Pendor. I have found what I think may be the Prophecy, written in Latin by the ex-monk, and never translated.

Verba de futuro:
Multis post annis, ex cearulo, Defensor veho a equus et Pendor sub secreto et sub selentio, fortes et liber. Defensor cognoso non est ad astra mollis e terra via. Defensor insisto quo fas et gloria docunt. Defensor laboro est arduum sane munus. Amicus certus in re incerta cernitor, quod latet anguis in herba.Quam terribilis est haec hora! Vae victis! Nil desperandum, forsan miseros meliora sequentur, pax et bonum, vinculum unitatis. Finis coronat opus, et in hoc signo vincis.

Credits:
Saxondragon

[mp84]

Revelations
Part III

In other stories and recorded conversations between the Oracle and Althea, a very different version of reality was presented to her. I am still digesting the ramifications of these conversations and piecing them together with some of the conversations between the ex-Benedictine Monk and the Oracle that shine an enlightening and disturbing light on our reality.

Here are three short conversations and explanations, between the Oracle and Althea where the former is lecturing to the latter. These conversations I thought interesting enough to share with you, to wit:

“There is order in the universe, from the rotation of galaxies around a central core to the structure of the smallest particles with charged bits of power orbiting their center. There are definable laws governing how everything interacts. These laws govern speed, weight, resistance, attraction, repulsion, temperature and many other concepts too difficult to explain right now. Everything has a natural law that defines what it is, how it works… except life. Life is only partially governed by natural laws.”

“Elves and Humans, have the spark of creation within them. We have talked about this in the past, and the decisions made to yield that spark to them. Higher orders can reproduce themselves, explore, think, and, most importantly, exercise free will. Free will allows them to dream, to bring incongruent facts together and create something new. That spark of creation reverberates through the weave and unfolds countless alternate possibilities. It is from these possibilities that stepping-stones, where we may walk, are created.“

“Infinity is a concept, not a number, too large to define, beyond the realm of what human and elven minds can hope to comprehend. They thus attempt to define that which cannot be defined, creating a “definition’ that is much more than the definition could be. They scoop up a flagon full of water and call it an ocean. Yes it is a liquid, yes there are similarities, but does it encapsulate the immensity of an ocean? It falls woefully short does it not?”

There were many other stories, not dealing with Althea, which are narrow windows into the world of Pendor. I will share those with you as time permits.

What becomes really confusing in several of these stories, as transcribed by Jonas, is that the unnamed ex-Benedictine monk often had direct conversations with the “Oracle”, about our own world. For example: Jonas recorded one such conversation where the Oracle discusses with the Monk the importance of building the Eiffel Tower.

Another disturbing reference is to the name of the Elven Island, Gwythdarian, and how its name was wiped away from the “weave.” The term “weave” is often used by the Oracle to describe the nature of his existence. I thought this odd so I decided to run a search on the Internet for “Gwythdarian” using various search engines. To my dismay I could not find any reference to that name at all. Nor could I find substantial references to the name “Gaelrandir”. (The only reference was a player who named his character Gaelrandir in Lord of the Rings Online in December 2007. I wonder why these words are so elusive.)

As I continue piecing the Pendorian puzzle together, it has transformed into an enormous tapestry. In my subsequent accounts of its history, more of Pendor and its fascinating inhabitants will unfold before you.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The storm raged against the cold stone walls of the castle.

Echoes of thunder rumbled down cheerless corridors and into the great hall, where reveling shadows danced across rough stone walls to the silent music of flickering torches.

Althea sat alone beside the pool, clutching a finely-patterned wool shawl to ward off the damp chill.

“I hear you, Qualis,”

She said simply. She looked up into the high rafters where the shadows deepened, untouched by the torchlight.

Above her, the snap and whirr of leathery wings announced the descent of a small dragon. It touched down beside her, its sharp, curved claws scraping against the flagstones.

“Why do you not rest?”

Rasped Qualis.

“The storm keeps me wakeful. It reminds me of the night we lost our father, my brother and I,”

Said Althea, as she turned her gaze from the dragon back to the still water of the pool.

The meredragon regarded her silently, as she drifted into memories of her past. The pain of her sacrifice was still fresh, and as she thought back on all she'd given up, a solitary tear slid down her cheek.

The dragon watched her grief in bewilderment. He had lived with this elf-woman for years and still she remained an enigma. He could not comprehend her strong ties to her own kind, particularly her unbreakable link to her hatch-brother. He knew of the mysteries and the will. He understood the loose kinship of his kind, love of the hunt, the need every twenty winters to seek out a mate, but Althea's behavior was inexplicable.

He wondered, and not for the first time, if she was mentally defective or had a disease which caused a sickness of spirit.

He felt a familiar touch upon his mind then, a gentle shifting of perception, and knew that the Oracle was again coming to inhabit his consciousness. He had long ago ceased fighting this inner interloper. For centuries he had struggled against this possession, and always in vain. The futility of this resistance was at last borne upon him, and he discovered that cooperation was of mutual benefit.

Now, out of habit, he simply relaxed and cleared his mind.

“Althea, you are in pain,”

Rasped the Oracle through Qualis.

Althea started, as she always did when the Oracle took control of the dragon’s body without warning.

“Yes, I suppose I am. The storm has brought back so many sorrowful memories.”

“I know that it is still difficult for you, however willingly your choice was made. Yet poor Qualis does not understand, and is disturbed by your grief,”

The Oracle said.

She felt the warm, familiar touch in her mind, and let the Oracle enter her consciousness. The room began to fade around her, and she slipped peacefully into the black.

When she opened her eyes again, it was morning. The storm had passed, and brilliant sunlight had banished the torch shadows from the great hall. The air smelled fresh and clean, with a hint of the rain still lingering.

Sitting on his haunches and surrounded by glittering, sapphire-hued gems was Qualis, perched with wings folded back and forearms resting upon his knees. “I am going release Qualis to himself now. Please be gentle with him, as he is deeply distressed.” said the Oracle.

Althea looked at the Oracle-Qualis in confusion.

“Why is he distressed? And what are these?”

She asked, as she indicated the dozens of glowing gems, scattered like shimmering raindrops about the room.

“I allowed Qualis to experience your sorrow, Althea. Dragons, even clever meredragons, are incapable of understanding elven emotion. Their needs are simple, and they lack the emotive expression of your kind. These gems are the tears that Qualis shed when he experienced your pain."

Still confused, Althea said,

“Dragons feel no sorrow, nor do they shed tears!”

“Do not and can not are worlds apart, my dear. For last night, this little dragon did. Once Qualis is more composed, he will undoubtedly slink off to sulk, so please pick up this litter of gems. I believe that they just may be useful one day.”

Credits:
Saxondragon

[mp84]

New Friends
Part I

I remember...

About a week after releasing Prophesy of Pendor 2.0 in June of 2009, I applied for a teaching position in a small community college in Michigan.

They wanted a game designer and producer to head up their interactive media program. I felt ready for a change and I really wanted to try living somewhere in the US other than Oregon. This new job would be a good fit for my skills, both teaching and creating something new. It would also give me time to spend on my passion: researching and pushing the boundaries of game design as well as piecing together the mysterious contents of these boxes that Vance had left for me.

The move was, as are most moves, absolutely hideous. I had to pack up personal belongings, all my needed household goods and, of course, Vance's boxes and journals. As I drove cross country, all went well at first, but when I stopped in Nebraska overnight, my trailer was stolen.

Luckily - at least for the story of Pendor - I had brought a number of Vance's manuscripts and journals into my room that night for some light reading.

Otherwise, all the rest of the Pendor information would have been lost, along with all my personal belongings. I suffered through lengthy sessions with the police, U-haul, my insurance company and all the other hassles which accompany such a theft, and went on my way once more. My belongings and some of the boxes from Vance were never recovered.

Packing up all my worldly goods prior to the move had led me to delve into Vance's boxes yet again. Surprisingly, this time I discovered references to other lands, cultures and cities far across the seas from Pendor, lands referred to as "The Baccus Empire." These documents described the civil war which shattered the once-proud Empire. Some of these lands had been destroyed or swallowed up, but others apparently still existed. I found an obscure reference to an army stranded by the civil war in Pendor; that army evidently was the foundation of the faction in Pendor known as "The Empire."

Once I was moved, I assembled a group of friends to help me correlate this hitherto-unstudied information about the Pendor Empire's origins and the other lands which were now apparently quite relevant to its history. I knew that with the pressures of the move, the new job and the trauma of the theft, I'd need help in organizing it all. While I settled into my new job, they began assembling the next part of Pendor's story.

Prior to the move, I had been heavily researching the fall of the Empire, the other nations around Pendor, as well as some of the towns and cities
of Pendor, specifically Janos and Singal. I came across several enlightening stories. I concluded that this information was too valuable to keep to myself. I distributed copies to the friends aiding me in researching these documents, and they forged ahead while I threw myself into my new job.

Fortunately, I was able to recreate from memory a large part of those notes which had been stolen.

My friends' research uncovered some extremely interesting information. It appeared that some of the apparent enemies of Pendor actually also had cooperated with the kings of Pendor. They found several Knighthood Orders which I'd overlooked before, as well as information which indicated that several of the Knighthood Orders were not the paragons of honor and nobility I'd assumed they were. Another document made reference to the attempts of the aforementioned foreign nations to meddle in Pendor's economy and politics. One journal yielded a treasure trove of information about the Snake Cult and the Red Plague, which had killed over half the population of Pendor. This and other recently discovered lore about Pendor has greatly expanded both my knowledge of Pendor and its continuing story. We are still piecing together some most interesting background information on the Noldor.

We found a very descriptive account of Singal from a traveler, to wit:

The City of Singal

This was told me in the Sarleon tavern, by a traveler missing one hand, with a scar from temple to chin:

"The very name 'Singal' sends a shiver down the spine of all right-thinking men. In Singal, Pendor's human underbelly skulks; everything is for sale and everything has a price, including one's continued healthy existance. The alleyways teem with dealers in Buriligi's drug, Red Brotherhood Slavers and murderers of all classes. Assassins flourish here and sometimes those lords who come seeking to hire them . . . disappear. D'Shar outlaws sell their loot openly in Singal's markets.

Ramun's auctions of the most beautiful women in Pendor, including kidnapped noblewomen and Noldor captives, are held behind secret doors, and it is rumored that the admission prices to these select sales exceed 1000 denarii, merely for the privilege of bidding. Sinister Knighthood Orders who fight for evil godesses and bands of ruthless Singalian Slavers led by Temptresses maintain their headquarters in Singal. The Snake Cult and the Heretics practice freely within the town, unhindered by the corrupt City Guard, who are either bought off or part of the many Singal conspiracies. Honest men keep their women locked up and no one of good intent walks the streets of Singal by night. Only the obviously insane are able to move freely through these mean streets, for the mad are known to be touched by the gods and thus are sacrosanct.

Woe betide one who finds himself bound over to Singal's Courts of Justice. All the honest judges were assassinated years ago, and justice is defined by the quantity of gold dropped into the judge's greedy hands. In the older parts of the city, mangy stray dogs fight with D'Shar orphans over noisome garbage. The Red Brotherhood finds many youthful recruits amongst these childish strays. Whores dripping with nameless diseases offer their dubious charms for a few coppers. Many of these whores go veiled, to hide the sores and signs of their disease. Prophets in ragged robes preach the benefits of converting to hideous religions. Human sacrifice is openly practiced in their rank hovel temples.

Hawkers compete to enquire of the unwary visitor 'What do you desire? If I don't have it today, I will assuredly have it tomorrow!' Contracts for murder are written openly in Singal's largest tavern. Go there and see for yourself, but don't linger too long or otherwise attract attention.

The groans and pleas of crippled beggars and the shouts of hawkers, the dulcet propositions of whores and rhythmically beating tablas create Singal's backdrop symphony of disharmony. Kicked dogs yelp, stallions scream challenges as their handlers beat them into submission, priests chant in many tongues. Rising above all, the sinister rhythm of the drums drives the heartbeat of the city.

Singal's market smells of spice and opium, of exotic perfumes with an undercurrent of poison-scent from the Herbalist stalls. Food sellers offer kebab cooked over dried dung fires in their braziers, but the origin of the meat is oftimes dubious. Bales of scarlet silk spill onto counters, high-bred horses arch their necks, kick and snap at their handlers. Unusual weapons long outlawed in Pendor can be had from the weapons makers - all one needs to do is ask to see the "special goods." The stench of unwashed bodies and rotting vegetables permeates the market, nearly overwhelming the pleasant scents. Hold onto to your purse, keep a hand on your sword and always guard your back as you walk there. Innocent-looking urchins await a moment of inattention to lift your purse, and the cults ever seek fresh sacrifices from amongst the hordes of travelers there.

The lord of Singal pays lip service to Kadan Bahadur Khan, and periodically attempts to enforce a modicum of order within the city. He is known to impale lawbreakers outside the city walls. The sickly stench of rotting corpses pervades even the more affluent parts of town. So long as his taxes are paid, the Bahadur Khan interferes little, knowing that even he, with all the might of his army, cannot conquer the evil within Singal.

Go warily, should you travel there."

Credits:
Saxondragon - "I Remember"
Fawzia Dokhtar-i-Sanjar - "City of Singal"

[mp84]

New Friends
Part II

There was also a most interesting first-person account of a Noldor assassin's adventures, as per the following:

The Assassin's Tale

I sat quietly in the tavern, sipping an indifferent Sarleon wine. I prefer better vintages, but, considering the potential value of the business under discussion, drinking sour wine was a small price to pay to gain a possibly lucrative contract. If, that is, we could move past the boring preliminaries and get to the point.

“Yes, yes, your philosophizing on the injustice of the world is interesting but I fail to see what it has to do with me, or my particular skills,”

I interrupted the fat fellow, squinting slightly at the light reflecting off his balding head.

“Please, I'm coming to that, sir.” His twin chins wobbled as he nodded vigorously. “As you know, the world turns on profit, and we merchants need protection. An attack on us is an attack on all Pendor's commerce.”

“You wish some caravan guards disabled? Hire a common bravo to do your dirty work. You waste my time.”

I stood up to leave, and pulled my hat down a little lower; a habit I'd developed of late.

“No, no, sir, that is not what I want. It is his protector who must be dealt with in a rather... permanent, shall we say, way?”

He babbled on. His mannerisms were starting to annoy me. Dealing with clients was definitely the most unpleasant part of my profession.

“So, you want some money-grubbing merchant killed, do you? A competitor perhaps? What did he do - steal one of your customers or seduce your daughter? All you need is one of the local Red Brotherhood murderers. There's no reason to pay my hefty fee for such a simple job.”

I swung my leg over the rough bench preparatory to leaving. He caught my arm in a surprisingly strong grip as I turned away. Ah, well, if I wanted jobs, I had to deal politely with the fools who offered them, so I refrained from stabbing the hand still attached to my arm.

“Sven Hairybreeks, brother of the eminent Lord Inar Hairybreeks is the man to whom I refer. That Fierdsvain bastard is undercutting all my prices, and hiring my own caravans away. I can do nothing personally, because he is protected by the Fierdsvain merchant princes.”

Hmm, this job was starting to sound rather more interesting now. I've always enjoyed killing the squabbling Pendor lords. If I did the job right, I could likely pin blame for it on a Sarleon or Ravenstern lord. A contract which offered the prospect of setting a Ravenstern or Sarleon cat amongst the Fierdsvain pigeons was intriguing. It might even lead to another war, which would certainly serve my private cause nicely indeed.

"Very well, continue,"

I sat back down and examined the man before me more closely. My estimation of him rose as I noted that he'd dropped his pose of dithering merchant and narrowed his eyes shrewdly, revealing the hard-nosed businessman beneath.

"You now have my undivided attention. Let's get down to business."

Our discussion progressed swimmingly from there to the all-important matter of my fee. I left the tavern with a bulging purse and a contract; he departed with an empty purse, rubbing his hands gleefully as he contemplated his enemy's imminent demise.

As I stepped out into the arid air, heat shimmered in the filthy street ahead. Ah, Singal. What a pit it is! I mentally contrasted its clay hovels with the forests I grew up in. For some reason, despite the squalor, I actually like it here. Thick crowds and noisy streets are better aids to stealth than the silent forests of my home. The only camouflage needed to blend into Singal is the attire of a ruffian and a visible weapon; I need none of the soft greens and browns which blend one into the Larian woods. Even the slight lilt left in my accent attracts no notice in a town where people speak in many dialects from all over Pendor and foreign tongues from beyond.

Several days later, I'd completed my research and preparations and was ready to complete the contract. Hairybreeks was currently here in Singal on business. I was ready. I'd pilfered a cloak from a Sarleon nobleman, and picked out some stitches so it would tear under the least strain. I'd also stolen the nobleman's sword undiscovered, since the man was happily occupied at the time in one of Singal's more opulent brothels. The sword sold for enough to buy me a pretty whore and some decent wine. Those of my profession do not favor swords.

Making Sven Hairybreek's acquaintance had not proved difficult, and he'd believed the forged letter I sent him informing him that a certain lord's representative would contact him concerning some business of mutual benefit. Hairybreeks certainly had a good head for his wine, I'd give him that.

Despite my "understanding" with the barkeep which kept my wine heavily watered, I'd been hard-put to stay sober whilst pretending to keep up with him. We arranged a business meeting for the next day and he staggered off to his inn.

Upon arrival at my target's inn, I once again carefully examined the points of entry and exit. Adjusting the set of my hat and my wealthy merchant's disguise, I entered and headed straight towards my intended victim's room. I was quickly admitted by a fetching young lady wearing next to nothing.

"Welcome, good sir, I'm pleased you have come. I believe in a judicious mixture of business and pleasure, don't I, my lovelies?"

He squeezed the nearest whore's bottom; she giggled. He pushed her out of the way and waved me to a seat. The other girl perched herself on my knee. Up close, she wasn't bad, but I prefer my women slimmer and very lithe and she was a trifle overblown for my tastes.

"So, sir . . . I'm sorry, but I don't know how to address you?"

"Sir Envoy will suffice. I am here on behalf of . . . a certain lord. Should our initial discussion prove fruitful, you will deal in future directly with my master concerning the trade contract we are here to discuss. Our acquaintanceship will thus be very fleeting."

I smiled and pinched the whore on my lap to make her squeal and wiggle.

His visage changed from affable and confident to angry - he clearly was unused to being addressed in such a way by an underling.

"Bugger off, whores, your services are no longer needed."

He tossed a small purse to the nearest one.

"By the way, don't bother returning until you've lost a bit of weight. You may inform the madam that I shall require different company tomorrow night."

The whores departed in a flurry of obscene remarks about his manhood, bed performance and overall appearance. I stifled an appreciative grin; some of their comments were both apt and most artistically phrased!

"Ah, good, we can come straight to the point of our meeting. My master prefers to deal straightforwardly."

I walked over to him.

"My master said that you wished a sample of the quality of cloth his serfs produce."

I removed the heraldic cloak from my shoulders.

"Please, examine the texture and strength of the fabric and confirm the quality of the weave."

I handed the cloak to the still-seated man. He felt the cloth between thumb and forefinger then bunched two sections in his fist and pulled them hard apart. As per my plan, the cloth ripped in twain.

I planned to leave my victim clutching a bit of the cloak; I would abandon the remainder in an alleyway for the town watch to find. Stupid as they were, they should still be able to connect the dropped bloody fragment with the other piece left in the dead man's hand. Once the Sarleon crest was recognized, the Fierdsvain would surely demand blood-geld and vengeance for the murder. I shook my right hand and the dagger hidden in my sleeve sheath slipped into it.

"What on earth is the meaning of this?"

The man failed to notice my dagger as he examined the torn cloth. He gasped as my dagger slid neatly into his chest.

"There's a saying that all men in Singal are equal if their gold is the same color. Except, of course, that in Ravenstern, they prefer to trade in silver. Still, denars are denars."

"Who are you?" he gasped as his eyes began to glaze over.

"Ah, you ask my name again? No harm in giving it to you on your deathbed, I suppose. I am the Noldor, Lethaldiran, and you, my poor friend, are now quite dead."

He gurgled as I slit his throat, just to be sure. I cleaned my dagger on the fragment of cloak he still clutched and checked over my clothes to make sure that there was no betraying bloodstain anywhere. Not that it would matter in Singal, anyhow, but I am fastidious about my clothes.

I left the inn unobtrusively, the other fragment of cloak over my arm, to be dropped in the nearest convenient alley. So it goes, another day, another death, another denar. The life of an assassin can really be rather boring at times. I do wish that, just once in awhile, one of my marks would prove a little more challenging.

History of the Noldor

A very long time ago the Eliga were one with the universe. Then they discovered the purpose. They diverged, with half coming into existence and spreading through the multiverse,and half staying in a place to which we have no reference. The Eliga who came to the Multiverse drifted through time and space until they were offered form. Some became greater powers that took a single form and were locked in a single time/space; others spread themselves through the multiverse and became the combined soul of a species. Some took combinations of many forms, some few. When a form was chosen, memory of the purpose was forfeited. Some survived, others perished. Some exist inside time/space, others outside of time space. Some exist in a combination of time/space/dimension.

The Eliga who took form as individuals were as gods to those who took form as individuals. Those who chose a species spread their life force and individual power across many beings. Thus in Pendor, the gods, races, and powers were brought into existence over time. The elves and humans were brought into existence in this form as were all other races, some many in number but great in power; others great in number but lesser in power.

The Elves of Pendor were quick to thrive and became dominant, having few extensions in other dimensions. They were more focused and personally powerful than other races such, as humans. While the humans were struggling to survive in thatched huts and using crude spears, the elves were well on the road to creating an advanced society. The Elven society and elves rose then fell, as discussed in other places on these boards. Their legacy exists in two forms in the current day. The Noldor Elves (who were the lesser of the elven due to having very limited magic power) have relocated to the shores of a lake in what we now call Pendor. The other legacy is an abomination, something that was never meant to be which has no place in the order of the universe. This is a being created by the Elves' misguided quest for power and is often mistaken as a goddess. This creature of great power feeds upon the very essence of the beings which it encounters, and slowly devours the Eliga or soul of the other entities of this world.

Other great powers, gods to some, recognize the threat and band together as their form permits to stop this abomination.

Credits:
M0dred - "Assassin's Tale"
Saxondragon - "History of the Noldor"

[mp84]

New Friends
Part III

From the Founding of Pendor – the year is 354 – The Prophesy has awakened.

The North – Ravenstern and the Mystmountain Barbarians:
To the North, the Kingdom of Ravenstern sits on the southern slopes of the impassible Cloudmist Mountains. They are a hearty, proud peoples having adapted to the harsh Northern climate. The ruler of Ravenstern is King Gregory IV, the great grandson of King Gregory I, who led the final charge that drove the shaman of the northern barbarians back into their homes in the Cloudmist Mountains. Every since that battle, Ravenstern has been tested by constant raids and sorties from these bloodthirsty clansmen. The Lords of Ravenstern are fearsome warriors, yet they are quite proud and very individualistic. There is a strong underlying culture of competition among these peoples that makes them outstanding individual warriors, though in groups they tend to be undisciplined. The Knights of the Order of the Dragon, the cream of the Ravenstern nobility, are to be feared in combat. Like most of the other Knighthood Orders in the realm, these Knights do not swear allegiance to any noble, but rather travel with the Lords of the realm when it suits them.

The West – The Fierdsvain and the raiders of Vanskerry:
Along the coast to the West is Fierdsvain, where some of the Jarls of Vanskerry have intermingled and intermarried with the old Kingdom to form a unique warrior culture. Most of the former mercenary Jarls of Vanskerry who went to war on behalf of the Emperor of the Baccus Empire had difficulty in returning to the cold barren shores of the North. When the emissaries from the coastal lords of Pendor arrived, many jumped at the chance to establish themselves in better climates. However, there were many in Vanskerry who looked upon these mercenary Jarls as turncoats to the code of the North and have sworn to make it a point to plunder the lands held by these traitors. Regardless, infused with new blood, strong warriors and an appetite for both battle and trade, the Fierdsvain have flourished and have become as powerful as Sarleon itself.

The ashes of Pendor – The Kingdom of Sarleon.
The Kingdom of Sarleon dominates the center of the game map. The current King, Ulric of Sarleon, is the descendent of King Alfred I, former Duke Alfred of Sarleon. Once King Alfred established the Kingdom of Sarleon, most of the Knighthood orders charged with defending Pendor were outlawed. . The most famous of the outlawed orders was the Order of the Griffon: the guardians of the royal line of Pendor. Today only one order, the Order of the Lion still exists in Sarleon. This noble order backed Alfred’s claim to rule. The Order of the Lion since that time has had a murky past, and for a score of years they also were outlawed. Today they have been vindicated and are now in the good graces of King Ulric of Sarleon and are the guardians of the realm.

The Southern Steppes – The D’Shar Nomads.
The South, along the Shavanir Desert is the Principality of D’shar made of dozens of separate individual tribes. At the height of the founding of the Kingdom of Pendor several tribes supported the peace and prosperity that the Kings of Pendor offered them for a treaty of peace. The peace turned into an alliance and these tribes began trading with the Northern Kingdoms. The makeshift tents and stalls that they set up in the plains of D’Shar over several generations became small-fortified towns and villages. No longer were they nomadic, but settled down, built homes and planted crops. Their
prosperity quickly propelled these tribes into prominence in the D’Shar plains. Yet, those tribes who were staunchly tied to the old ways, remain nomadic and have rejected the “city dwellers” completely. Recently they have reverted to raiding the many caravans coming into and out of these towns. This has caused a great deal of tension between the cities and the tribal nomads closer to the great desert.

The Southeast – The Empire and the Snake Cult.
The remnants in and on Pendor of the Great Baccus Empire are now called just “The Empire”. However, some portion of the old Baccus Republic (Pre-Empire by several hundred years) must have had profound influence on General Oasar, as he decreed that a democratic council of Lords selects each new “Overlord” when either the existing ruler dies or reaches the age of sixty. The strong military of the Empire could have long ago swept Northwards into the Pendor heartland and conquered the interior towns, but for the ties that the Empire has from their homeland across the Southern Sea, which have plagued them to no end. The Serpent Cult has been a constant threat, both politically and empirically to the Empire as they almost successfully corrupted the Empire ruling class from within. It did not help that the many civilians and nobles were until recently openly in support of the path of the Serpent. All this has changed. The current Emperor, Marius I, has been successful in banning the Priests and temples from the cities of the Empire. This diplomatic feat has resulted in more of an all out war between the priesthood and the Empire and battles in and around Empire towns and castles are common. The Serpent worshipers in Pendor have gone underground, and receive help from across the Southern Sea where the heart of the Serpent resides. Marius I, has deftly turned the tables on the priesthood and has shown to the peoples of the Empire the depths of their unholy depravity. Escaping the death kiss of a Priestess of the Serpent is strong motivation for the average citizen to help their emperor in this task.

East – the Jatu tribesmen.
Along the Eastern plains of Pendor are the steppes of the Jatu. The original Jatu lived across the Southern Sea in a land of vast plains. They were a fiercely independent nomadic people, well versed with bow and spear. The Jatu are skillful horsemen and boys at an early age learn how to fight from horseback. After years of conflict, the Baccus Empire brokered an agreement with the leaders the Jatu that in exchange for peace. The Jatu would provide mercenaries to the Empire to conquer other lands. When General Oasar invaded Pendor, his main compliment of cavalry was the Jatu Horse Lords. When word came that the Great Baccus Empire was in tatters and that the Emperor was dead, the War leaders of the Jatu had no way to return to their homeland. Instead, they left the service of Oasar, raided dozens of villages for women folk, and traveled northwards to establish a new homeland for their peoples. A closed society that refuses trade and diplomatic overtures, these warriors will attack anyone in their domain.

Everywhere – at-large – those with weapons and the will to use them.
Once the Empire’s armies began to stand down and call Southern Pendor their own, the more unsavory elements, to which the old Baccus Empire was famous for, began to emerge. The Red Brotherhood is a confederation of secret societies that crossed borders all across Pendor. They are bandits, thieves, slavers, and they deal in unsavory plans and sell whatever they can get their hands on. You will find them at times, helpful, and at times, they will be glad to relieve you of your possessions and perhaps your life. Town Militia and various lords try to wipe them out when found, but rooting them out of the various cities is like trying to kill rat infestation with a stick. You never seem to get them all. Note that the various gangs of Red Brotherhood operate independently of one another.

While there are many hazards in Pendor to be wary of, perhaps one of the most dangerous are the various Renegade Knights who wander the countryside. These knights are of various origins, some are from outlawed knighthood orders, others are twisted by the wild magic of the items which they carry, and some are just bent on the destruction of any who cross their path. One thing if for certain, they are deadly.

There are many religions and faiths in the lands of Pendor. Most of them are benevolent, and maintain a doctrine that is the bridge between life and death with a code of conduct that paves the way for a pleasant hereafter. A few of the non-benevolent religions are bent upon destruction and hatred. These followers are termed heretics by the other faiths, and are looked upon as something to be stamped out. Heretics often are believers in human sacrifice, and other dark rituals and are unsavory at best. At worse, they bring the stuff from your worst nightmares to life.

In your travels you will find adventurer companies. These groups of adventurers are from varied backgrounds and have many different goals. Some are on missions for various lords, some are bounty hunters, and still others are explorers of the ancient cities destroyed long ago. If they happen to take an interest in you, be prepared for anything as it is these self styled heroes that turn up in the most improbable places, with the most unreal equipment and do the impossible.

To the far East, the Noldor.
The last known remaining trace of the elder races are the Noldor. The war of the Titans was horrific, and the once graceful cities of these folks have long since been destroyed. Only this one place, hidden from outsiders, remains of their civilization. The Noldor were once wondrous workers of magic, but one of the results of the great conflict was that they were no longer able to invoke the cantrips and spells that were so central to their lifes. Still, some of their lesser enchantments are still working as evidenced by their almost supernatural abilities on the battlefield. None who cross the paths of the Noldor near their home, come away unscathed.

Credits:
Saxondragon

[mp84]

New Friends
Part IV

History of the Pendorian Knighthood orders as researched and scribed by Hubris deAelswid of Sarleon, Scholar of the third order and keeper of the Seal of Sarleon.

The founding of Pendor was accomplished by a figure of legendary renown: Cavalas of Valonbray, the son of a renowned knight who, depending on which historian you reference, either 8th or 12th in line to the throne of Valonbray. Regardless, through exploit and adventure Cavalas brought together the various noble lords and founded the Kingdom of Pendor and established the Silver Throne in Sarleon.

It is generally regarded as fact that King Cavalas, in his adventuring days formed the Order of the Griffin, which is considered the first Knighthood order of the Pendorian Kindgom.

Soon after his coronation, Cavalas drafted the Validus Charta, and it was signed by the various noble lords of the realm and through this document established the binding charter and legal grounds for the existence of a body of knights to form an organized order that had recognized coat of arms. It is generally argued that this was a condition by some Lords to support King Cavalas in the establishment of Pendor. This claim cannot be verified as no documents are known to exist that substantiate this theory.

Regardless, within several years a plethora of knighthood orders sprung up in Sarleon and other cities and castles. Few of course lasted more than the lifetime of the founder, and this document shall confine it’s scope only to those orders that have survived in some form, to this day, the 12th of April, 354, with one notable exception: that of the Order of the Griffon.

The Order of the Lion
Established in the 82nd year after the founding of Pendor by Sir. Roderick the Red. The Order of the Lion is one of the largest and most renowned orders of Knights in the land. The charter of the order is strict in it’s chivalrous by-laws. It is the oldest knighthood order that still has members in Pendor. After the untimely deaths of the royal family in 198, the order was instrumental, along with the Order of the Griffon, in establishing and maintaining order in the realm and preventing an all out war between rival factions contending for the throne of Pendor.

After the succession of the Northern Lords, and the war with the Greater Baccus Empire, the order backed and supported Duke Alfred of Sarleon in assuming the throne and declaring a himself the King of Sarleon.

In the 298th year after the founding of Pendor, the Order was outlawed. All texts and reference to the reasons and history surrounding this event have been destroyed by the order of our King, Ulric I of Sarleon, himself now a prominent member of this Knighthood Order. In the 346th year after the founding of Pendor, the Order was restored by the order of King Ulric I of Sarleon and all references to the events and histories since 298 were destroyed.
Scholars note: King Ulric was coroneted in 346.


The Order of the Radiant Cross.
This Knighthood Order was established in the 113th year after the founding of Pendor by Baron Jorn of Dunglave.
Scholars note: Dunglave was renamed to Janos after the occupation of the city by General Oasar in the 203rd year after the founding of Pendor.

The order was one of the prominent forces to battle the invasion by the Greater Baccus Empire in the 202nd year after the founding of Pendor. Overwhelmed in the battle of Sagent Glade, they were all but destroyed by the legions under General Oasar. When General Oasar became “Overlord”, and after the desertion by the Jatu, he incorporated the order colors to form the identifying marks of his elite cavalry units. While these Cavalrymen are not true Knights by any stretch of the imagination, and they do not operate under the Validus Charta, the colors survive and the citizens of the empire often refer to these mounted soldiers as the remnant of that once noble order of Knights.

The Order of the Dragon
Established in the 199th year after the founding of Pendor by Earl Klovis of Rane. There are some accounts that the order was actually ordained on the field of battle during the siege of Rane. Other accounts point out that the order actually came into existence when the documents were ratified and signed several weeks later by the traitorous lords of the Northern borders.. I shall leave that debate in the hands of other brothers to determine, if indeed it shall be settled in my lifetime.

The Order of the Dragon was created to honor the noble warriors who stood and routed the armies of the Mystmountain Tribes during the siege of Rane. It is a rogue order, with no charter under the Validus Charta.

The Order of the Falcon
Established in 94th year after the founding of Pendor. This order has the notable distinction of allowing females into it’s ranks. The original charter allowed for this as one of the five founding members was a woman warrior by the name of Valera who was of no little prowess on the battlefield. This Order originated as a very successful adventuring company in the early years of the Kingdom that later transformed itself under the Validus Charta.

The Order fragmented after the breaking up of the Kingdom and over the years have declined to the point of extinction. The order was outlawed in Ravenstern in the 349th year after the founding of Pendor by King Gregory IV. Most of the order either retired or fled to other lands.

Scholars note: The order may have survived in a form with the Valkyrie in Fierdsvain as they wear the orders emblem upon their breasts. No documents survive that speak of this, and the initiation rites of the Valkyrie are not well documented nor understood. Though I daresay that I doubt that any of my scholarly brothers would want to risk their manhood by too closely examining the breasts of these female warriors.

The Order of the Griffon
Established prior to the founding of Pendor. Colors: Gold Griffon on a field of brown. This prestigious order of knights were the royal guards of the line of Cavalas. The plague of 198 wiped out a large amount of the Order Knights as well as the Royal family.

After the plague, they put aside their differences and worked with the Order of the Lion to maintain order in the land. In the 203rd year after the founding of Pendor, in the forests of Laria the order made it’s last stand against a small army of the Jatu who were moving into the Larian farmlands. While successful in defending Laria from being plundered by the Jatu, not a single Knight of this once proud order survived. The great hall of the Griffon Knights in Sarleon stood empty for many years until being converted into an abbey.

Scholars note: There is some reference in the recorded histories of the Order of the Lion that prospective knights applying to resurrect the Order of the Griffin were discouraged from achieving their goal. This will have to be researched further.

By my hand and no other..
Hubris deAelswid of Sarleon,
Scholar of the third order
Keeper of the Seal of Sarleon.

Mettenheim Timeline:

“Never before has so much blood been shed over such a barren piece of rock as Mettenheim, populated solely by pirates and ruffians.” – Conquistador Diego of Barclay

History of Aysenburg

No-one knows when exactly the volcanic island of Aysenburg was settled. The first recorded encounters had Aysenburg already host to a small trade post. Ships belonging to the Baccus Empire would frequently use the island to resupply on their trips to Barclay and Pendor.

196
The true potential of the island was not realised until the Fierdsvain Lords of Pendor discovered large iron deposits in the mountains of Aysenburg. This prompted the Baccus Empire to create a permanent colony there, funded through imperial funds. This would grow to become the capital known as Ijzerstat.

198
When Pendor fell just two years later, the known world fell into chaos. Barclay and the Baccus Empire went to war with each other in an attempt to fill the power vacuum left by Pendor. Aysenburg was an obvious target of strategic importance to both great powers. The large quantities of iron were vital to the Baccus military effort, and Barclay badly wanted to deprave Baccus of this asset. A number of battles were fought on Aysenburg soil to this end.

203
Barclay finally beat Baccus to a stalemate and an uneasy truce was signed between them. Baccus then cast their eye at the war-torn Pendor, determined to keep their veteran armies in good use. A year later the invasion of Pendor was launched under the command of General Oasar.

204
Several months later the colonists of Aysenburg discovered that the Emperor of the Baccus Empire had been assassinated. A week after this the garrison was recalled back home in order to quell a mounting uprising in the Baccus homeland.

205-214
For several years Aysenburg became its own autonomous state, having lost contact with their imperial administration. During this time Aysenburg opened their borders to allow free immigration, and enjoyed an economic boom as refugees from Baccus and Pendor fled to the safety of the island, and found work in the many mines. Artisans from Barclay also emigrated in order to utilise the plentiful raw materials being mined. This all contributed to the burgeoning metallurgy industry the island played host to.

215
Unfortunately Vanskerry raiders had stepped up their raiding following their dismissal as mercenaries for the Baccus Empire. In time they discovered the lucrative trade being done in Aysenburg, and in need for more weapons and armour for their forays to Pendor began a series of systematic raids. Without a standing army Aysenburg was powerless to prevent these incursions, the people running to hide in the mines at the first sight of any Vanskerry ships.

Aysenmontana : a province of Barclay
216-219
The citizens sent a diplomatic overture to Barclay, offering trade deals in exchange for military protection. A contingent of Knights of Dawn soon arrived and the Vanskerry attacks were stopped and Aysenburg once again became a hub for trade. Next a wave of governors and officials arrived from Barclay and the island was adopted into their empire as a province. Barclay soon found itself in the enviable position of being the sole regional power due to the internal troubles in Baccus and Pendor.

220
Barclay themselves were not immune to internal struggles as the Orders of Dawn and Eventide openly waged war against each other, and the purges led by the Order of Dawn had rapidly increased in scope and ruthlessness. Although the people of Aysenburg played lip service to their garrison of Knights of Dawn, they were non the less targeted for breaches of any law. One of the most respected merchants was executed for the sale of “inflammatory artefacts”. In retaliation the citizens of Aysenburg declared an embargo on the Order of Dawn. As the Order was preparing to do Astrea’s will in return for this insult, they were called back to Barclay in force to combat the rising Order of Eventide threat.

221-224
Once again left without a defensive army the people of Aysenburg requested permission from the Barclay crown to raise their own army. The King inundated by the situation at home, and casting a wary eye towards the growing strength of the Snake Cult in Baccus, agreed.

Mauritz Van Mettenheim

225-229
The citizens of Aysenburg raised a defence tariff on exports which financed the creation of their own armed forces. A brilliant young merchant known as Mauritz van Mettenheim was elected to oversee the creation of the army. He was a well educated and prudent man who decided to raise an army based on the theories of the old Baccus Empire on heavy infantry tactics, combined with the doctrine of Barclay on the use of crossbowmen. The island was hilly and well defensible, but not able to support horses, so Mauritz abandoned any notion of maintaining a cavalry force. Instead he equipped the core of his army with two handed swords capable of dismounting a fast moving horseman. Knowing that he had the administrative ability but not trusting his battlefield experience he recruited an old mercenary captain by the name of Wolfgang as his field commander.

230
After nearly five years of preparation and training, Azi Dahaka finally sent her minions at Aysenburg. Once the ships were spotted, urgent messages where sent to Barclay but they came at the height of the troubles between the warring Orders and were ignored. There was to be no relief from Barclay. Mauritz and his new army found themselves forging their destiny alone against the Snake Cult host. The island had no navy due to the lack of wood, and the Barclay fleet was preparing to ship the Order of Dawn across to Pendor.

The first few weeks were spent in a game of cat and mouse, the snake cult army trying to force a landing and being denied. Eventually however they managed to disembark and first major set piece battle saw the inexperienced soldiers of Aysenburg, led by Wolfgang face the massed ranks of the Snake Cult. The battle was a disaster, and the Aysenburg soldiers were soon in full retreat. Mauritz desperately tried to keep his army together and to hamper the advance of the Snake Cult. In due time however the Snake Cult army was at the walls to the capital; Ijzerstat. A fleet of fishing boats were assembled and an evacuation of the island prepared, however a number of soldiers would have to remain behind to hold the line while the rest escaped. Mauritz gave one of his most impassioned speeches where he called on volunteers to become “the shining light, a last beacon of fortune, and to become, the forlorn hope of Aysenburg”. The entire army answered his rallying call and Mauritz chose to take the field himself and prepared a number of experimental tactics, which would later be called revolutionary. The battle was joined and the forces under Mauritz employed a creeping barrage, through firing rank by rank, keeping up a continuous barrage of bolts into the enemy until the great swordsmen had gained enough distance to do their damage. It was the first victory for the people of Aysenburg, from here they were able to hold for an entire year until relief finally arrived from Barclay, and they together routed the Snake Cultists.

232
The people of Aysenburg were furious with the late intervention of Barclay and clamours for independence reached a new high. The people turned to their new hero, Mauritz but he wouldn’t commit against Barclay, and managed to keep some semblance of order. Barclay then imposed a War Tax to raise more troops to fight against the Snake Cult, however the people of Aysenburg found themselves burdening the majority of the cost. Tempers once again flared, and Barclay worried that the army in Aysenburg would launch a coup ordered their move to Barclay. The people of Aysenburg however saw it as a panicked attempt by the nobility to protect their precious castles and fiefs. Mauritz went to meet with the new governor imposed by Barclay to try to broker a deal to keep the military in place, however he was instead arrested for treason. He was locked up, and ready to be shipped to Barclay when Wolfgang and a cadre of veterans calling themselves the Forlorn Hope released him. Mauritz immediately called for the removal of all Barclay personnel from Aysenburg and seized control of the government. A week later the King of Barclay received the official declaration of independence from the new nation of Mettenheim.

Credits:
Unknown - "Knighthood Orders"
M0rdred - "Mettenheim Timeline"

[mp84]

Legacy
Part I

I remember…

That it was a Monday in mid October when I received the call from the mail room clerk at my work regarding some unusual mail. I had been coping with a sense of loss that occurs around this time of year since my brother passed away twelve years ago. When I arrived in the mailroom there were three overly large cardboard boxes, all neatly wrapped, taped and slightly weathered. There was not a return address on them, but the postmarks on them indicated, to my complete surprise, Edinburgh, Scotland. I did not know anyone from Scotland. What was this?

I opened up the boxes and was stunned. There were familiar looking manuscripts, maps, old leather bound books, perhaps a score of them all having the same look and feel of the ones that had been delivered to be when Vance had passed away . There was a small white embossed envelope in the second box that I cautiously opened. It read “I am aware of your work with Prophesy of Pendor and believe that these should be in your possession. I believe that you will know what to do with this information. It is best that you do not know who I am, other than I am a friend. Good Luck. -E“

Who was “E”? Here was another layer to this mystery, and more questions.

The boxes contained old maps, binders, hand written notes in English, French and Latin all regarding the world of Pendor. As I mentioned, it was October, and my grief was more intense than in other years due to newer losses that added and indeed compounded my grief. Needless to say that my spirits were already down and I looked upon this “gift” with some sense of foreboding. I remember that I had the fleeting thought of just wanting to send it all back and call it a day. I had spent so much time with Prophesy of Pendor, my day job was demanding and I just did not have the time to devote to this..yet again.

Yet, curiosity somehow prevailed and I began digging through the boxes and trying to make sense of what had been bestowed upon me. The materials were primarily about the lands to the South of Pendor, the lands where the old Baccus Empire once spread in it’s glory. There were stories, references, maps and many documents regarding this region of the world. Most importantly it contained a great deal of history and information about the lands held by the Snake Cult and stories about the “Goddess” Herself.

Most strikingly was the time frame of the information I was receiving. It seemed to be after the unification of Pendor and there were many references to an army from Pendor being all but destroyed in a savage storm as they attempted to invade these lands.

Our Development team for Prophesy of Pendor was in the final stages of porting over the module to Warband and I knew that they were all tired and at their wits end with this very challenging process. It so happened, that I was looking for a project for a class I taught in game design, so I hatched a plan to merge the students in this class with the existing development team. After talking it over with the key folks of our team, they agreed and the plan was set in motion.

The second week of classes in early January, I entered our Gaming Lab with the cart filled with the contents of these boxes plus every surviving document I had or recreated from what I had received in the past. The various student seemed a bit apprehensive as I explained what we were going to do for a project in the class in addition to covering “The Art of Game Design: a Book of Lenses” by Jesse Schell and “On Writing” by Stephen King. Perhaps near panic is a more appropriate term.

I started by having them join our development forum, then began handing out specific assignments to research from the resources on the cart, and to work as a team to bring all of to life in what we would call:

Prophesy of Pendor 4.0 – Legacy.

Here are some of their stories and the stories from the Development team:

Credits:
Saxondragon

[mp84]

Legacy
Part II

The Stories

I have spent two years at MCC. I’ve been working on getting an associate’s degree in game design. It was the winter semester of 2011 and I was in the capstone class for the interactive media and game design degree. Jim had forewarned me that it was going to be a tough class. If only I knew what he really meant.

The first few weeks of class was a little tough since we were scheduled to finish our book in the first 6 weeks of the 16 week class. At that time I thought keeping up on the reading was going to be the hard part of the course. I wish it was.

Jim informed the class that we were going to be making a mod for the game Mount & Blade and that the mod was going to be Prophesy of Pendor: Legacy. I was aware of the story behind Pendor, having read about it in a previous class. It was a good story; I couldn’t tell if it was real.

At the next class period, Jim assigned everyone a task to be in charge of for developing the mod. After we knew what they were responsible for, we were curious as to where we would be getting our information. Jim said he would take care of it the next time the class meets.

Class had started and everyone was wondering why Jim wasn’t there. I figured he was just running late, it happens. It wasn’t long until he rolled into the room. He was pushing a cart loaded with boxes. There was no doubt that they were old; I could see mold growing on some of them. I was wondering what the hell was in these old boxes and why is Jim bringing them in here? Then it hit me. They must be the boxes sent to Jim by “E”.

I didn’t believe it. I thought Jim had just brought in some crappy boxes to get us into a “Pendor” kind of mood. Jim announced that the boxes were the ones he had received from “E” and that in these boxes are where we would be getting our information for Prophesy of Pendor: Legacy. He could tell that some of the class still wasn’t convinced that the boxes contained manuscripts sent by someone who goes by “E”. So Jim put some of the boxes out on our desks and told us to look for ourselves. I waited a while, then I went to over to a box someone else had opened. It was full of worn manuscripts. I didn’t know what to do. I just picked up one of the manuscripts from the box and laid it out on my desk. I was in shock. I don’t remember doing much more than staring at the script in awe.

Jim informed us that the scripts were mostly written in Latin and French. To get the information we would have to translate the scripts. This was the hard part of the class.

I didn’t know Latin or French and neither did anyone else, at least that I knew of. I wasn’t too worried at first since I was in charge of making the game map. I figured there would be a map sitting in one of the boxes half decayed or something like that. Turns out it wasn’t going to be that easy. I didn’t find anything resembling a map in any of the boxes.

Now the real work began. I scanned a few of the scripts into a computer so I could translate them at home.

Handling the scripts was scary as hell. Due to their frail condition, I didn’t want to touch most of them. I was afraid it would fall apart; then what would I do? It’s not like there are extra copies lying around.

At home I brought one of the scripts up on my computer. I also had an online translator brought up next to the script.

I got frustrated very quickly. The scripts were hand written and very old. This made it hard to distinguish letters and words clearly. Try to figure out what letter I was staring at was a tough job most of the time. On top of that, I had to figure out if the script was written in French or Latin. Let’s just say that I didn’t accomplish much on the first night.

The next day in class I scanned a few more of the scripts. Even though trying to translate the scripts was a pain; I was overwhelmed with curiosity. That day I made a little more progress on the translating, but it wasn’t enough to get any information from the script.

I continued translating at home. The script was saying something about an ancient volcano that had become filled with water and had become a giant lake. I got really excited since that was geography I could use to make the game map. I continued working and then my computer crashed. I lost the script file and the translated file I had made. It was odd since I couldn’t find any reason as to why my computer would crash when it did. After that I decided to start saving my work more frequently (duh!) and in different locations. I never did get to find out what else the script had to say about the volcano.

In class everyone was talking about what they had found in their scripts. I asked a few of my classmates if they had found anything about geography. This wasn’t as helpful as I had hoped. All I was able to determine was that Armala was mostly surrounded by mountains. I didn’t get anything particularly detailed, but at least it gave me someplace to start on the map.

We spent weeks translating. It took me a while, but I eventually got used to it. Finding information for the map was difficult. There wasn’t anything that said “The geography of Armala is…” The most I could get was references to landmarks. I really had to work with my classmates to find more references to landmarks in Armala.

Some of the scripts had nothing to do with the history or geography of Armala, but just contained general information. One script I translated was basically about deductive arguments. It was trippy how a rotting script from a very long time ago contained some of the same basic information about philosophy as my text book I got last year.

The translating of the scripts was tough and time consuming. My grades in other classes started to slip and I was never able to get enough sleep.

One day I was very tired and was moving one of the scripts over to the scanner. I wasn’t very careful, since I wasn’t very aware of what I was doing. Due to my mishandling of the script it tore. The first thing that popped into my head was Jim bashing my brains out with a keyboard for ruining an irreplaceable script.

I managed to find the guts to tell Jim that I tore one of the scripts. He spared my life and told me to put the pieces into an envelope so that they wouldn’t get lost.
After countless hours of research and talking with the other students I was able to create a rough sketch of what Armala might have looked like. I was very relieved.

My next task on the mod was to do some of the coding. That meant that I wouldn’t need to translate the scripts anymore. I was a slight relief, but I was still very curious what other things were contained inside of the scripts.

I read about a lot of different things that were in the scripts. I won’t forget about them. Although I’m moving on after this mod is complete. I will always draw back on those old decaying manuscripts for inspiration for future work that I do.

-Michael Shields
_________________________________________________________________________________________________________


My name is Alex Dziesinski, and I am a student of game design in the Interactive Media capstone class. Game design had not been my original intent. The first year of my college experience had been spent in the industrial engineering program at Grand Valley State University. All my life people had been telling me what a great engineer I would make, but it was not what I was destined for. When I should have been using the software to design pump housing fixtures or locating edges for vise clamps, I was too busy designing swords, laser cannons, race cars and space vehicles instead. I eventually ended up at Muskegon Community College. Where I planned to use my talents to (hopefully) design the best games the world has seen.

This game design course had been my first introduction to the world of Pendor. It was both wonderful and fantastic. Especially interesting was the history behind the story itself. I had been skeptical at first, but there was the box from Edinburgh with all of the mysteries inside sitting on the countertop. My doubts were erased.

I was more than a little apprehensive as I began searching through the various manuscripts and old cracked books from the box. The distinct feeling of disturbing something ancient arose, like I was some sort of crypt robber. Childhood memories floated up of watching Raiders of the Lost Ark – and I was Indiana Jones. Maybe it was a little less dramatic than that, but no less interesting. I was dealing with a story here that was as old as stone. The feeling of reverence was palpable. Though slightly discomforting, it was also empowering. I had a task before me. It was something that I had never done before, and I felt compelled to make sure I did it right.

Among other things, I had been tasked with researching the Great Enemy; the Snake Cult. Translation was a painful process, but rewarding. This new box contained a great deal more information about the Cult and its leader, the Sindari abomination Azi Dahaka. This being was the lasting legacy of the fallen Sindari’s misguided quest for power, and part of what gives prophesy of Pendor 4.0 its namesake. As I learned more of the history of these peoples, a sense of dread crept into me. The abomination sucks at the very fabric of space-time itself; it must in order to survive.

-Alex D.

_________________________________________________________________________________________________________

When Jim brought in his box and claimed it was given to him by a mysterious resident of Scotland, I was ready to dismiss it as a pep rally trick that he has used on us once before. Until he gave us a chance to look inside. What we found inside was nothing short of astounding: Manuscripts, maps, backgrounds of different people and gods. It is almost as if this one box contained an entire world, the history behind it. My curiosity and interest piqued as I dove into the world that was Pendor.

Some students went into creating a map to contain this world. Others went on to discover the factions of people that occupied this world, and still more went on to decode the cultures and histories to tie every faction together. Me? I implemented two smaller factions that the player would fight. I even did a couple of sound effects for the Snake Cult (some of the team still claim they would mistake me for a rattlesnake).

I was assigned to smaller factions known as the Jatuzen Tribesmen and the Heretics. I have spent many hours going through the manuscripts to find information on the Heretics and their demonic rituals. This stuff gave me nightmares.


~Alex S.

-_________________________________________________________________________________________________________


It was a day of class just like any other… or so I thought. I entered the classroom, but something seemed out of place. The room was silent; a certain sense of mystery was looming. It was then, that I saw a few boxes that were not present before. Jim walked into the room with a serious look upon his face. He said “Class, today we have a special assignment that I need your help with. Inside these boxes lies some very important information; information that I alone can’t uncover.” He opened one of them and started to unpack what looked to be ancient scrolls, older than anything I’d ever seen before.
“In these texts, there is information about Pendor.” Jim said. As a collective whole, the students of the class exchanged looks of astonishment. “This is it,” I said to myself “The real deal, sitting right here in front of us.”


I was hesitant to leave my seat to even look at the manuscripts. It appeared that even breathing too heavily near some of these articles would leave them nothing more but dust and all the information would be lost.

A few other classmates had already grabbed some of the papers and had started to flip through the pages; I couldn’t find anything in the box that had any portions of English writing on it. Continuing to browse carefully through the articles, I noticed something that stood out from the rest. A leather notebook with an insignia of an “S” with a sword running through it was ripe for the picking. Unwinding the string around the notebook I soon realized it was a journal entry, however many of the dates were too worn to make out. It had almost seemed as though someone had scratched them from the very face of the pages as to make sure no one ever discovered the time of the events. There was a name referenced, Santara. The entries I could translate teemed with information about this land of Santara and its affiliation with the Barclay Empire.

While punching in one last translation for the night, I noticed mentioning of a call to arms. It seemed the keeper of the journal was either a knight or some sort of hired mercenary. The thing that struck me as odd was that he referred to the army he was in as “Los Conquistadores.” The original writings were in Latin, yet the entire entry in the journal was now looking as though the writer was of a somewhat Spanish origin. I wondered how the battle would play out. The time was getting late, and I needed my rest. The journal left me pondering about how life would have been in the kingdom of Santara. It would be no easy task, but I felt ready to take on the challenge of filling in the lost chapters.

“Here goes everything” -- Mitch Piotrowski
_________________________________________________________________________________________________________

I recall the freezing cold Michigan wind hitting my face when I walked into Muskegon Community College to start up my second winter semester. I take great pride in being in the game design program and I have learned much. But nothing had quite challenged and fascinated me as much as what Jim has shown us in our capstone course.

It all started when Jim showed us the story of Pendor. He had gathered snippets of information from a friend of his and had converted the work in a mod for Mount and Blade calling Prophesy of Pendor. He then brought in all of these old transcripts he had received by someone only known as by “E”. No one knew at all whom this “E” was.

All of us in the class took it upon ourselves to begin working through the musty information regarding a land south of Pendor called Amala. It was there that I started discovering some of the histories of these ancient kingdoms.

The one that caught my interest and took up most of my time was the story of the Kingdom of Nosheru and its leader, Antarrah Rashim. The kingdom felt very similar to those old Arabian nights tales I heard as a child. This captured my sense of adventure, so I began digging further into the kingdom's history. I stayed up late a few nights translating and reading any info I could find within the transcripts. My girlfriend even decided to help out and was able to bring me out of my almost fanatical obsession with Nosheru's history. Most of the transcripts I read into had to do with the kingdom suffering under the rule of an self centered and cruel dictator. Subsequent transcripts dealt with a rebellion initiated by a General named Antarrah, with the support of the lower classes of the kingdom.

Sadly most of the transcripts I had in my possession only dealt with the early history of Nosheru. Events after the early rule of Antarrah were nowhere to be found. Some time later I was informing my classmate, David, about my problem and his face seemed to light up. As luck would have it he had been translating documents detailing the later years of the kingdom, along with accounts of Antarrah's son Erron. Working together we began to piece together a better picture of what Nosheru would have been like.

It had been situated near the homelands of the Jatu tribes within the lands of Amala. Many of its peoples lived in southern deserts. Under the policies of Antarrah Nosheru had prospered economically and militarily, managing to carve out a place for itself as a major power after the chaos of the fall of the Baccus Empire. I am still continuing my research into this kingdom and am hoping to piece enough of it together to help present en masse to the public in the form of our mod, POP 4.0 Legacy.

-Zach

_________________________________________________________________________________________________________



You can never just walk into Jim's class and expect to not learn or to be challenged. As soon as I think I have my head wrapped around something I get something else thrown at me.

The other day a cart loaded with a few old boxes on it was wheeled into the room. The boxes were full of manuscripts, all in regards to this place called Pendor. Specifically they were Pendorian accounts of a land to the south called Amala. They were all very old and fragile, so I moved to pick some of them up. I wasn’t sure what one to grab, I was scared to death that they would just fall apart in my hand. But watching my class mates picking them up, I went for one.

I brought it back to my desk and sat down. I began to read it.

It was hard to make out a lot of the information within; everything was very old and musty. So much of it was written in Latin and French. I was not looking forward to how long this was going to take to translate. However I was determined and curious, so I got to work.

Within the some of these ancient pages there was something about a man named Erron. He was the son of a King Antarrah Rashim. He was made the leader of his father's Knighthood order. Erron was a companion of the son or daughter of the King of Pendor. The writing on one of the pages was faded and was hard to tell exactly what they meant but it appeared that it had to do with how Erron fought alongside the son or perhaps daughter of Pendor in many battles.

Sadly this was the extent of what my documents revealed. There was little about the kingdom Erron grew up in, or about his father. Some time later I was listening to my classmate Zach, when I realized that he had been working on the exact information I needed! After talking we began to compare our notes. I learned more about the history of Antarrah and the rest of Erron's family.

I loved how our story’s connected! If there was a connection between these two manuscripts maybe there were even more connections in some of the others? I went around the class room to each of my classmates to see if any of them had any more connections to my story so that I could put all of the pieces together. Unfortunately I had no luck. I couldn’t believe it, out of all of those manuscripts there were no other connections. I felt let down.

Even after this class is complete, I will keep looking for answers. I will use the knowledge that I did gather from these manuscripts, so that I can cure my curiosity and find the next part of the story.

David Klinger

_________________________________________________________________________________________________________

As a Game Design student, it was during my second semester at Muskegon Community College that I was invited to join the Prophesy of Pendor Development team and was brought on to design the opening splash screen for the mod and to do some initial beta testing. In order to become familiar with the games back story and mechanics, I was encouraged to join the forum and read through the many posts made by the team throughout development. During my initial research I immediately became intrigued by the team's sheer passion for the story behind Pendor and for their incredible display of knowledge pertaining to ancient history that was evident throughout their written collaborations. However, much of the content in these posts I would not come to understand until a year later and so I paid them little attention.

I had been introduced early on to a brief history of the events that set the development of the mod in motion; the story of Vance and the possessions he had given Jim on his death bed. As I read through the articles, I couldn't help but wonder if it were reminiscent of an event in the past, or a clever tale meant to captivate the interest of an audience. Though I leaned more towards the latter, something struck me as odd... I had the chance to get to know many of the contributors of POP and as I pondered the individuals that the team consisted of, I realized that none of them except Jim had a background in the game design field. Much to my surprise, the team consisted of a variety of folks, many with white-collar day jobs in various career fields, but none along the lines of game play or entertainment. So, I had wondered what had inspired these folks to come together and invest so much of their time into building this mod, but I didn't give that much thought either.

It was the beginning of the 2010 winter semester when I and my fellow classmates in the Game Design capstone class had received word from Jim of the workload we could expect to carry. We were informed that we were to complete the required material for the course within the first ten classes and then research the history of Pendor before beginning work on the newest mod; Prophesy of Pendor: Legacy.

This turned out to be an understatement, for we had no idea what effort was truly expected to be exerted throughout the course. The lesson materials consisted of a thirty-two chapter, 475 page text book on game design, a book about writing by Stephen King, and 11 quizzes which, believe it or not, turned out to be a cakewalk in comparison to what Jim had in store for us next.

At the beginning of our second class, my classmates and I gathered in the classroom and anticipated the kicking-off of the 'chain of quizzes' that was sure to invade and conquer our free time for the next six weeks. Jim was running late that day so we chatted amongst ourselves about our shared anxiety and our excitement to begin work on the POP mod. Not long after, Jim entered the room pushing in front of him a cart with a big box on top. As he passed by my seat, I could smell the age coming off of whatever it was that lay inside. Being highly sensitive to the smell of must and mildew, I quickly covered my nose and eagerly awaited an explanation... one that I would never have expected.

Having immediately grabbed our attention by the presence of the odor carrying box, Jim began to explain. He opened with a brief refreshment of the history we had all learned of Pendor and told us of the packages from Edinburgh, Scotland he had received from the mysterious 'E'. Then, as if to wash away any doubts that may be had, Jim pulled from the box a manuscript that was visibly beaten by time itself. The leather cover, once flexible and rich in color, was now dry, cracked, and faded into a material that was barely recognizable. Underneath, the battle to keep age away from the delicate pages had been lost long ago.

At first I thought the manuscript was merely a cleaver prop intended to motivate the class and to teach us a lesson in creating experiences. But then we were invited to explore the box further, and to my amazement, what we discovered was an assortment of old books, binders, and hand written notes, all pertaining to the world of Pendor and all having been tattered by the ancient hands of time. A closer examination proved that the material had been written in English, French, and Latin, which Jim had further explained that, once translated, these documents would be our sole source of any and all content going into POP: Legacy, just as the previous development team had done with the first mod.

For my share of the research, I took with me a stack of handwritten notes and loose leaf pages; some of which were once part of a greater masterpiece but now stood alone and out of place. The idea that these papers were not restricted by a cover or jacket to a single subject, idea, or theme but were instead a collection of all excited and inspired me. Handling the documents made me very nervous so I took great care, knowing very well that they could crumble beneath my fingertips if I didn't.

Given my past experience with graphic arts and the related software, I decided that my contribution to the mod would be strictly art based, so I immediately focused my efforts towards translating the documents in search of any visual descriptions of cultures, armor and clothing, heraldry, royal seals... anything that might be distinctive amongst individuals or societies. This turned out to be a gruesome process of deciphering an alien language using various online translators, though I did get lucky by coming across a few sketched images.

Translating the documents took up all of my time, free or otherwise, but I was immersed in the experience and deeply fascinated by the history I was uncovering... I was the first person to comprehend the foreign content of the text that I was deciphering since ancient times; like an archeologist uncovering the first remains of a prehistoric creature, I was holding thousands of years in the palms of my hands... the experience was truly unreal.

The cultures were fascinating, beyond belief. Some were very strict in the way that they were visually represented; having only the finest of metals and cloth such as with the Persian influenced people of Nosheru. Other cultures were much more difficult to attempt to visually represent, namely the Snake Cult with their Persian background and slight Egyptian and Aztec influence (et hem... Alex! lol jk ). This posed yet another challenge and that was to research these particular styles during the time of their existence. To say the least, the workload for this course has been tremendous but the experience has been significantly more rewarding.

During school hours, and through collaborations with my fellow classmates and the development team on the POP forum, we were each able to share the information we had uncovered with others through topics and posts, making the deciphering process a little less individually arduous while keeping well organized and efficient. Nonetheless, it has been a great challenge for us all. Looking back, this, as I now understand it, is a likeness that I had stumbled upon a year before when combing through the posts from the original POP development team... or should I say, the holders of the many manuscripts pertaining to the fascinating world of Pendor.

- Jennifer Witham

Credits:
Students of Saxondragon