The Heroic and Amazing Saga of Kianan McAylwyn (No, Really)
Well, as you know, there have been many titanic clashes and desperate duels in the last few years, with many tales of heroism and bravery to recount. And what better to steel us for the fight to come than to share in such tales and relive such moments of selfless sacrifice, brave battle and courageous conflict. Many of you have been the stars of such tales, and so today I will tell of deeds you may not have witnessed.
You may or may not know of the events that transpired in Caledonia's Underworld in recent times - a very fight to save our All-Mother, Anu. So, today, I give you: the story of "Kianan and the Sirens of the Underworld"! This tale starts back in the days before I came to fame, before I met you all, yet still with valiant conquests on which to boast, and it may be unknown in part to many of you...
In my youth, I was a wanderer, travelling from village to village with the Caravan - a rag-tag band of colourful gypsies, selling our stories and songs for our keep. For a time I wandered the back passages of Albion, in and out of the verandas of her noblewo- estates, and found myself eventually summoned to a castle on the Cymrijan border. Winter was approaching, the mountains towering, claw-like and foreboding; I could taste the threat of ice on the wind. And the keep to which I was called, at the behest of the ruling Lady, reached out from the valley like a great stone-worked fist.
Forced against the very doors of the keep by the elements, I summoned my steel and strength and grasped the Lady's knocker. With firm rhythm I commenced my banging, firm and hard, and soon there came an answer from within - a cry, shrill and high. I was met by a fearsome and yet enthralling sight, as the doors afore me slowly parted to reveal the Lady of the keep and the gateway to her fortress.
She was tall and slender, shapely and exquisitely carved - just like her home - and I could not but admire her… buttresses. There would be no easy penetrating this castle's defence, from without or from within. A drow maid, yet whiter than the snow, she was - with shocking black hair, dark as night, and flowing to her waist - becoming one with her raiment which followed her curves to the floor. A host of warrior maids had she at her call, and I glimpsed them standing firm and pert in the cold doorway. And not a man in sight bar I...
What passed in the three months I was snared there I shall not now tell, though tales abound in that wintery land of the myriad feminine cries to be heard on the wind, and few dare venture there for fear of the perils that await. Yet, as the first thaws laid siege to her mounds… of snow, news came to strengthen my resolve and I was able to break free. Crawling inch by inch along her mighty hall, I reached the doors and broke free to return to my homeland's need and call.
Away from my kin for nigh on a year, I journeyed swiftly as news reached me of a coming council of the clans - and hopes of being reunited with my kinsfolk stirred me on. Many things greeted me at this meeting, the fairest and feistiest of Caledonia's warrior-women answering the call, but these again are for another time. For here it was that the threat to our very Underworld made its ugly face known.
Here also my path was set, as I encountered my charming predecessor as Master Bard of Caledonia, an Elf of unparalleled beauty. She bade me work under her, and it was not long at all before she went down… and raised me up - stepping away from her duties and passing them to me. She had discovered an intriguing map that she could not decipher, and so I gave her my full attention - and, as I studied her geography, a mist enveloped me and I found myself... elsewhere.
As the mist cleared, I discovered I had been transported to a darkened bedroom, a huge and inviting four-post bed dominating the room. Waiting in the shadows, clad only in her samite gown, a stunning, ethereal beauty beckoned me on… she had something she wished to share with me and, ever the gentleman, I stepped forth to take it. Yet, as I prepared to return the favour, and offer a gift of my own, the mist arose anew - forming sinister shapes in the darkened recesses of the room.
It seemed the 'in-laws' had come to crash the party, as a dozen pale and floating figures coalesced and advanced upon us. As I stepped up, sword drawn, to defend the shimmering lady, she vanished away to safety (she came back for more later). And, so, like a guilty lover, I fled back down towards my companions.
The clues we gleaned that night led us eventually to the Forest of Strathbraan, where the fey lord Aventa had cast a dark and deadly shadow - and the sinister Hunters were unleashed by their twisted master, Gwynn. Here it was that I first encountered the enchanting Ajnin, who I was tasked to encourage to bear all, and eventually her tragic, terrible story unfurled. A colourful fey, in jacket of startling shimmering blue, a myriad swirl of colours and a bewitching face, her restless pattern was snared by Gwynn in servitude and there I swore she would be freed - if the All-Mother willed it.
Our next venture into the world of Shadow was to the Realm of Pain, where we fought long and hard to free the bar - and to rescue the Lady of Light in that land, Obum the Listener, a ray of hope in a dark, dark hell with her heavenly visage, long stockinged legs and bounteous features. Yet her tale is told elsewhere by me, as she kept me up late into the night in her realm, after her first message left my very pattern unravelling with her power.
Whilst I spent my time in libraries, researching and studying, Ajnin returned to my thoughts - and, stashed away in a dusty alcove, I discovered a treasure insurmountable. There, finally, she was revealed to me in full - and her image leapt out from the very pages of the history I studied. When she later came to me, I was able to reveal much to her, filling her… both with memory and with hope. And she left me with a mission, a quest to set things right. So it was with steeled heart, and full of determination, that I joined our final venture into the clutches of the Underworld.
As we stepped forth anew into the darkness, I strode to the fore - steeled by faith and by favour. And there, ahead in the dark, I glimpsed a shimmering dot of radiance and hope. Carrying the beacon in the dark was the fair Siabhan, a shimmering contradiction of promise and despair, and our help and guide in the night. I stayed with her much throughout our struggles as I and my clansman worked our charms and plied her for all we could get. We worked tirelessly, as the clansfolk around us floundered in the dark, and soon we were rewarded - as she told us what we needed.
It was then that I was tasked to bring hope to the Realm of Sorrow and bring comfort to the forlorn ladies that had lost their way. So, steeled by the light of our guide, I sought for what we desired. For it was there that I suspected my quarry waited. But, firstly, a word of caution, as the Lord of the Realm took me aside: ‘Kianan,' quoth he, ‘A child should never be conceived here - it's such a bad start in life.'
Later, I passed a buxom elf in our number who swore and cursed. "Fucking hell," she cried - and, eyebrows raising, I replied: "Now there's a grand suggestion…"
But I digress. We entered Mider's Realm of Sorrow, where tears ever fell from the eyes of the lost and hopeless, and my hopes were instantly gratified - for we gained a new yet familiar guide. The vision of hope, fair rather than brunette, was none other than Ajnin's sister, Etarip - so alike as to be easily identified.
And so it was that I was able to deliver my message and satisfy both sisters, securing for them I trust a happy ending. As we parted, and ended our embrace, Etarip whispered in my ear and in my hands throbbed… a crown of great power and beauty. And this, her gift, stayed with me as we returned to our companions in triumph.
And thus ends this tale, but not the legacy of the many and wondrous encounters we had in the Underworld. And, if this short tale has bestirred within you your... curiosity, seek me out to hear the more full tales of those days, for sure some of what you have heard even happened!
All Works are © Original Author
(OC Author - Paul Martin)