by A. J. Smith
TALES OF THE LONG WAR
A collection of Myths and Legends
A.J. Smith
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About this Book
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Table of Contents
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About Tales of the Long War
All wars have a beginning. Before weapons, before nations, before battlefields and conquest, there was the Void...
The histories of Ice Giants, Earth Shakers, spider mothers and the Shade Folk come together in Tales of the Long War, a collection of micro-stories that will take fans deeper into the myths and legends that formed the Lands of Ro.
Contents
Cover
Welcome Page
About Tales of the Long War
Maps
The Tale of the First Aggressor
The Tale of the First Rebellion
The Tale of the First Empire
The Tale of the Water Giants
The Tale of Jaa
The Tale of the One God
The Tale of Brytag
The Tale of the Dead God
The Tale of the Gorlan
The Tale of the Shade Folk
The Tale of the Exemplars
The Tale of the Forest Dwellers
The Tale of the Trolls
The Tale of the Volk and the Dvergar
The Tale of Tor Funweir
The Tale of Ranen
The Tale of Karesia
Bestiary
About A.J. Smith
About the Chronicles of The Long War
An Invitation from the Publisher
Copyright
Maps
THE TALE OF THE FIRST AGGRESSOR
All wars have a beginning. Before weapons, before nations, before battle fields and conquest, there was the Void.
For ages beyond counting, the Void was all there was. No earth, no life, no rock, no air.
The first consciousness was an accident, a random event. Before thought needed form to exist, the Void Giant ascended. The first life became the first god. There were no halls beyond and no beings to worship, there was only the Void.
The Giant carved herself a world, creating form and structure from the Void. She birthed the old ones, and made them do war upon each other. She watched from beyond the world, twisting and turning it into new shapes. Creating and destroying on a whim, for the world was unreal, only the Void truly existed.
Long ages melted into eternity and the Giant still watched. She allowed old ones to ascend and challenge her, striking the first blow in the Long War. She became the first aggressor, the first victor, the first conqueror, and the first Giant to kill another.
The world now had form and growth. It produced its own life, crude beings who built crude faiths. As the surface of the world changed, the Giant watched. She could not perceive its whole, only its ebbs and flows, for it had grown beyond the Void.
Strange things crawled across its surface. Contortions of life lived and died in a brutal dance of eldritch destruction. In time, they came to worship the remaining old ones, using the power they were given to forge primitive societies.
Malevolent energy flowed into the world, twisting the old ones into new shapes. They pulsed through the Void, hurling their chaotic strength at each other until few remained.
The Giant still watched, feeling stronger as each of the beings she had birthed died and returned to Her. She watched, as the mortal beings on her world scuttled their own paths. She watched and she waited, hoping for a worthy foe to rise and challenge her.
THE TALE OF THE FIRST REBELLION
Things remained the same. The world changed, but its inhabitants did not. A barbaric dance of life and death, predator and prey, hunting and killing. The old ones remained as gods to these beings, undulating their chaos into the world.
The Void Giant took notice when a species of creatures resisted the old ones. From a cold land, amidst mountains and beasts, came the Ice Giants.
Their land had no name and they did not seek glory, but they said no. They refused to worship beings of chaos and compliance, and chose instead to walk without gods. Their society, larger and older than had existed before, warred against any invaders. They created freedom and honour in a world of servitude and sadism.
Through long ages they gained strength and wisdom, until the greatest of them reached beyond the world. The beings that remained called him Rowanoco the Earth Shaker, and his ascension tore a hole in the world. He was the first god not built of the Void, a random event spawned from a random event. A Giant of might and conviction, of stubbornness and pride, had risen to defy the First Aggressor.
The old ones were no match for him as reason defeated chaos. He strode across the Void, carving his will into creation. He formed the ice halls beyond the world and rewarded his worshippers with strong bodies and resolute minds.
He acted as a god should and the Void Giant watched. She watched and she waited as other Giant races turned from the old ones and developed thought of their own. Giants of fire, shadow, forest, stone and web rose from the world to build their own halls, but Rowanoco was first and Rowanoco was strongest.
THE TALE OF THE FIRST EMPIRE
When the Void Giant next awoke, she saw his world as a texture of life. Numerous species, strong and weak, flooded the land like a sea of potential. They walked chaotic paths, clashing against each other in an endless melee of thought and counter-thought.
The Ice Giants had fallen from might, but their descendants still followed Rowanoco. The other Giants had done little to maintain worship and allowed an old one to creep back into the world.
A mortal race had heard its voice and followed its creed, revelling in chaos and sensuality. They were the Great race of Jekka, and they spread like a plague across the world. Wielding perverse magic and harnessing lesser creatures, the Jekkan Caliphate was born.
They played at being gods, building their own lands and their own servitors from the stuff of Void. Other mortal races fell, bending the knee to their new masters. They were gods of flesh and will, of decadence and insanity. Their deviance changed the world. Their tendrils drove deep into the earth, until the Void Giant severed all contact with her creation, for fear of being corrupted.
Their empire halted at the cold lands, turned back by the Volk of Rowanoco, but the Caliphate remained strong for millennia and shaped the world.
THE TALE OF THE WATER GIANTS
As Gods slowly ascended and empires of might and terror were formed, the Giants did war upon each other.
The battlegrounds of air, fire, earth and water were joined by shadow, forest, dust and void until all the land was broken. Alliances were formed, Giants fell and the wars raged longer than the understanding of mortal men.
Each Giant saw himself a God and each God grew strong or died, falling to the inexorable passage of deep time.
The Water Giants, more alien than most, fought with malign cunning and chose the Ice Giants as their chief foe, doing war upon them as mountains rose and the land changed shape.
As ages passed and Rowanoco ascended to the ice halls beyond the world, the Water Giants sensed that their end was near. Their race, who had missed Godhood by a hair’s breadth, cried tears of pain and their tears became the rolling seas of the north. Their leaders, the twin Giants Ithqas and Aqas, were felled by Rowanoco himself and they were sent to the bottom of the deepest seas to gnaw on rock and fish and never have thought again.
Rowanoco gave no thought to his fallen foes, but the twins remained, mindless and primal, swirling endlessly amidst the watery tears of their long-dead kin.
THE TALE OF JAA
The fire burned and the Giant felt stronger. As each lick of flame caressed his
scaly hide, Jaa looked upon the world and felt that fire no longer hurt, that cold no longer froze, that rock no longer wounded, that shadow no longer obscured.
The flames danced and formed shapes. He looked upon the fire and built himself a hall of flame and fear. All lesser beings would fear nothing but him. He had harnessed fire and bent it to his will. He had risen from the world to his hall beyond.
He had betrayed all of his allies, used and discarded them to increase his power. He had weaved treachery and avarice into the world, and his followers would wield them as Rowanoco’s followers wielded their axes.
He breathed fire upon the world and formed the southern deserts. He flapped his wings and caused great sand storms. He roared of dominance and suppression; of fear and pain. He decried the older Giants and made war upon their followers, for the Long War was his to win.
THE TALE OF THE ONE GOD
The Giant sat in his stone hall beyond the world and wore grey.
The Giant acted with nobility and his followers began to wear purple, rising above other men to rule.
The Giant acted with aggression and made war upon his enemies and his followers began to wear red, standing tall and never questioning their duty.
The Giant showed compassion and his followers began to wear white, healing the sick and valuing peace.
The Giant sought knowledge and his followers began to wear blue, devoting themselves to learning all they could of the world and beyond.
The Giant became humble and gave to the needy, and his followers began to wear brown, accepting that they were unworthy.
The Giant sought riches and became greedy, and his followers began to wear gold, taking all that they could.
At the last, the Giant understood death and his followers wore black.
But the Giant himself remained grey.
THE TALE OF BRYTAG
The Ice Giant was kind to his pets. When he walked upon the world, Rowanoco kept hounds, bears, trolls and ravens. He enjoyed the peace that his beasts provided him for they asked no questions and made no demands.
His favourite pets, the twin ravens Loki and Brytag, were most often to be found on the Giant’s shoulders, overseeing the actions of their friend and master.
As Rowanoco grew in might, his ravens grew with him. The stronger he became the wiser and luckier Brytag and Loki became. Over time the Ice Giant needed his ravens as they needed him.
As the ice halls were formed and the lands below became distant and indistinct, Brytag and Loki remained on their master’s shoulder. They rose with him, gaining godhood of their own.
But they were not of the halls beyond. They were creatures of the earth, the stone, the air and the water. They were not Giants, they were merely ravens, and Rowanoco gave them a choice.
Loki chose to remain as a creature of flesh, guiding the earliest followers of the Ice Giant. Brytag chose to become a god. He became a god of luck and wisdom, forever bound to his master and to the world he’d forsaken. But he cared more than most.
THE TALE OF THE DEAD GOD
The Forest Giant sat alone in his black and green halls beyond the world. His Dark Young were all dead or torpid, his Dokkalfar had betrayed him and the rampaging Ice Giant was near.
His hall, built over the nameless ages of deep time, was decaying and rotten as his power was slowly raped from him by the Fire Giant.
He waited.
The Long War had claimed more Gods and Giants than trees in his hall and he knew his time was near.
The One had found him, Rowanoco would fight him and Jaa would take his power – leaving him as nothing more than a memory of a once great God, a story to pass down through the coming ages of pleasure and blood.
When the end came, it was swift. Jaa had left him with little with which to fight Rowanoco and the outcome was not in doubt. The God was laid low by a mighty swing of a mighty hammer and prepared for the void to which Gods disappear.
He sank into slumber.
But something happened. The God felt his power buckle and crack, but it did not break. The treacherous Fire Giant had stolen his power and not destroyed it, leaving the God as more than a memory. It was a thread of existence, but it was enough.
As strange beings called men appeared and spread across the lands, Shub-Nillurath smiled.
THE TALE OF THE GORLAN
The spider mothers were birthed before the Giants walked their paths of divinity. They were created from the void by Atlach-Nacha, an old one who survived longer than any other. Through ages of deep time they endured, choosing followers and battles as their whim dictated.
They were priestesses and they were sentinels, tasked to endure beyond all the battles of the Long War.
When Rowanoco ascended and opened the way for Gods of the earth, the Gorlan remained in the shadows, commanding those that crawl, until their mother was snared by Shub-Nillurath. The Forest Giant needed sustenance, as he clung to life, and he consumed Atlach-Nacha, using the energy of the old one to sustain himself. Many Gorlan pledged to the Forest Giant, hoping to free their mother, but many more remained free, creating broods and enduring at the edges of the world.
As long as the old one’s power remained, so would the spider mothers. But every feast comes to an end, and all power fades.
THE TALE OF THE SHADE FOLK
When the lands of men were formed of nations without names or borders, death was not always the end. There were no priests or clerics, just those favoured by the Giants. Piety delivered survival beyond mortal death and the Shade Folk walked the lands in secret.
With one foot in the beyond and the other on the earth, they were the first true servants of the Gods of men, taking their power and wisdom from the Giants themselves.
As ages passed and men named their realms and warred with their neighbours, the Shade Folk were both priests and generals, directing the Giant’s armies, but never fighting themselves, for the Shades had no form that could wield a sword or carry a shield.
They could not be killed or manipulated, and would not seek power or recognition. They lived and plotted in the shadows, appearing only to those of righteous intent. They gave their Gods immense power and enabled their own defeat.
Churches, cathedrals and other monuments of stone were built to the Gods, and fewer and fewer people were reborn as Shades. The One was the first to raise a mortal man of God, the first to realise that the Shades had served their purpose. He called his servants clerics and they had form and power.
The Shade Folk retreated in silence from the world they’d helped to build.
THE TALE OF THE EXEMPLARS
The Long War is fought on many fronts, with many armies and many commanders. From the first, to end of time itself, there will be Exemplars, for the Giants do not fight their battles directly.
As the Shade Folk disappeared, leaving mortal men to walk their own paths, the lands of men needed new commanders. Each Giant gave a little of themselves every generation, investing a mortal being with authority to act in their stead. One generation a priest, the next a warrior, then a philosopher, as changeable as the needs of a God.
They lived and died as men, able to wield both sword and word in the name of their God. They were the generals of the Long War, ever watchful for the schemes of the other Giants, but expendable to their masters beyond the world.
THE TALE OF THE FOREST DWELLERS
In ancient days, a shy creature of shadow chose as his followers a beautiful race of light, the Ljosalfar. The Shadow Giant watched and smiled as his followers planted huge forests, treated with beasts and sang to the sky. They played and sang to please their God and pull him from the shadows, but the days grew dark before their song ended.
A Forest Giant of pleasure and blood sought to win the Long War, and conspired against the shy creature of shadow. Darkness crept into the glens of the Ljosalfar and their trees turned against them. They fought and lost, their light skin becoming grey, and their golden hair becoming black. Their song ended when their Shadow
Giant, the one they loved, was felled by Shub-Nillurath.
The Ljosalfar became the Dokkalfar and were twisted to darkness, skulking at the edges of the world and singing no more.
THE TALE OF THE TROLLS
Men, in their arrogance, think little of creatures older and more powerful than them. Glimpses of old empires and ancient powers are discarded or ignored until they become legend.
The Ice Men of Rowanoco are different. History does not record a time when trolls did not prowl the ice-fields of Fjorlan. They have built no halls and formed no kingdoms, but no man of Ranen would ever think of them as simple beasts, for they follow Rowanoco as guardians.
They are ancient and they are immortal, but have remained unchanged since their inception. They eat everything except water, ice and snow, for that is what they guard. Not men, women or kingdoms, but the ice itself, keeping the land as it was when Rowanoco ascended. They have no great intellect, but are the most pious of creatures.
As long as there is snow and ice in Fjorlan, so will the trolls wander unhindered, keening to tell their God that the land is safe in their claws.
THE TALE OF THE VOLK AND THE DVERGAR
Before the nations of men spread across the land and while the Giants still walked their paths of might and majesty, there lived in the far north two kings and two brothers.
The older of the two ruled from the Bright Lands and his people, the Volk, mined the deep ice and built a great realm they called Volkast.
The younger brother lived beneath the ice in the Dark Lands and his people, the Dvergar, plotted and conspired, for each brother had seen their God and seen something different.