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The Ugly King Chapter 3 Part 1 You'll Not See Nothing Like The Mighty Quinn
23 May, 2008
Author: Ing Twi Demalah

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Emma had never been to Fen Ruen, in fact no one she knew had ever set foot within its gates. She was amazed that the entire kingdoms’ populous lived in cities built on a single enormous mountain. The main road called the Heron path and paved entirely with green marble, was a long route that wound its way through each of the four great cities. “Fen Ruen” Emma said to herself as she thought back to the stories she had heard as a little girl; Ancient stories that her grandfather’s grandfather had learned when he was a child.

Long ago, before the first of her people had set foot on Ourai, Fen Ruen had been a great strong hold for the ancient elves that once dwelt here; though, it had then been named “Owr Romach” The Bright Spear. Indeed the cities that now stood there, including the king’s own palace; were built within the walls and upon the foundations, that is to say the ruins of that hallowed Elvin kingdom. The Grey City of Wymund, the city of the gate was the beginning of Heron path and was originally built as a garrison for Fen Hyatt and is governed by the gate wardens, Gareth and Freawine. Quindlen’s own cousin Holly dwelt there and had stopped Emma as she was leaving and gave a very detailed account of how easily she could be disembowelled if she hurt Quinn again. Holly even showed Emma the knife she would use and smiled grimly.

“Well, as long as there is no pressure!” Emma thought to herself.

The Heron turned south outside of Wymund and in 2 hours time Emma was passing through Bruhn. Most of Fen Ruens’ crops and horses came from here and the surrounding farms. Emma noted that Bruhn was comprised of individual houses of wood, brick, and straw and the city had several Guard towers surrounding it with no defined pattern; where as Wymund was one massive garrison comprised of three concentric walls in which were the houses, stores, barracks and mead hall. Wymund also was built entirely out of grey, tempered, stone and it is Wymund from whence the “Blade Masters” of Fen Ruen came.

The people too, Emma noted differed greatly, well, in attitude at least. In Wymund, every man and woman able to bare arms both trained with and carried weapons. Though the knights from Wymund were all men the militia was comprised of mostly women; For Wymund was the first line of defense for Fen Ruen and thus Emma found its’ people stern, blunt, and often cold to outsiders. In Bruhn however, the people had been more out going, farmers and blacksmiths mostly they seemed hardy and pleasant; especially to visitors with large pocket books. The best weapons in the whole of Ourai were forged in the fires of Bruhn and as a mark of this skill all the knights of Bruhn bore Great War hammers, of surpassing quality and over-laid with silver.

Swindhelm ruled in Bruhn. The Stead Fast he was called and Emma remembered a story recounted to her by Quindlen. He had told her that, years ago when Quindlen had first earned his captaincy, during the King Feuds of Ourai; that Swindhelm volunteered himself and his 600 men to hold the gate of Fen Hyatt and face the full brunt of Rumstan’s army. (Nearly 2,000 strong) While Quindlen and the main host of Fen Ruen’s Knights, (about 1200 men) road south circling back north in an attempt to out flank Rumstan. The plan had worked and Rumstan was caught off guard by the fierce attack to his rear flank and his army was routed. When Quindlen had finally fought his way to the front line, Swindhelm alone of his six hundred remained; and he had given no ground, nor had the solders of Rumstan reached the great gate. From then on Swindhelm had been known to the people of Fen Ruen as The Stead Fast.

Emma pulled her winter coat tight around her as the harsh winter wind began again to whip past her and sting her rosy cheeks. Six hours she had before she would reach the mountains summit, Emma’s heart pounded and despite the cold, she began to sweat in nervous anticipation of addressing Quinn for the first time before his throne. Again Emma’s mind drifted back to Quinn’s tales of his childhood.

When he was but four years of age, Quinn, while playing near his father Osbearn, tried to lift his father’s sword. Osbearn and those around laughed at the toddler’s attempts to wield the weapon. Quinn became frustrated and out of sheer will power hefted the blade up cutting his left cheek and brow before dropping the elegant blade. The room fell eerily silent and all who looked on nodded in approval.

“Aye Quinn…” Osbearn spoke to his son softly “…ye are a mighty one and I say that ye shall not die whilst ye can lift a sword.”


His doom was bound from then onward to his blade, and what a magnificent blade it was indeed. For Quindlen, like his father before him and so on back to the beginning of his line, carried at his side one of the treasures of Fen Ruen; An ancient elfish blade known as “Eishen” that is “Sharp Ice” for its’ edges freeze when they cut and no blood ever runs from a wound made by its’ blade. Regenald too held a most mighty blade. Though he will not say where it was made or from whence it came its’ blade shine with a pale green light and it is said that when cut by its’ edges the wounds do not heal, but bleed ever after, so long as one is alive. Its’ name according to Regenald is “Ben Grefil” that is “Wound Hoe” but Regenald has named it “The Widow’s fang.”

------- Author's Notes -------

The long awaited, often imitated, but never duplicated Chapter 3.....well the first part any way.

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Comments on this poem/writing:

Terrye* (67.187.237.233) -- Tuesday, May 27 2008, 01:02 am

Swords of Mighty--

Jarrin'...a sword that freezes and another that causes wounds never to heal--brings life long bleedin'...
Ing, as all your other creations, this one caught my reading mind instantaneously..enjoyed it on this rainy Memorial day.so good to see that your still writin'! you have such a natural gift in the art of writin'...even your feed back is genuine . i shall Return... Terrye*
Happy Memorial Day !!
 
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