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Endarian Cross

In The Land Of Elandalor
Along The Tamaland Isle

Endarian Cross

“Of all things the blank page is the hardest to defeat. Those, whose soul are as empty and as blank as this parchment before words were set down upon it, those are the ones most difficult to defeat.”

Endarian Cross (before the winter age)

Talmakie looked across the plains of Wain for his foe as these words drifted into and out of his waking thoughts. “How do I fight the foe of which I know nothing”, were his thoughts. Several hundred of his men lay dead or dying upon that plain and it seemed he had learned nothing. His breath was now ragged in his throat, his arms and chest ached from exertion, blood tricked from a half dozen small nicks and wounds. Yet he felt no pain, his heart beat too fast to feel anything.

“To defeat the blank page is to simply start writing. Write what is in your mind at this time. It does not matter that it has no meaning to you now. Just write the words and the meaning will follow”

Endarian Cross (before the winter age)

Talmakie thought of his old instructor Endarian. In his youth the old mans teachings seemed senseless and a waste of time. “How can writing aid me in battle”, he recalled asking the elder teacher. “Just write”, came the answer, always that answer. Soon Talmakie no longer needed the parchment and quill to write, he wrote in his mind. Shortly before Endarian died he asked Talmakie a question that puzzled the young man. “What has your writing shown you Talmakie?”, was his question. He did not ask what it “told” him, but what it “shown” him.

“The act of writing organizes the mind, separates the wheat from the chaff, clears the way for the story to continue. One controls the story who knows how to write it.”.

Endarian Cross (before the winter age)

“They fight with their numbers, not with their skills, not with training”, Talmakie wrote in his mind. “They use spears, swords and axes, but have no archers”, he wrote the next line. “They maneuver the battle so the sun is mostly to their backs”, was the next. “There is no standard bearer, no one leader who stands out from the rest”, the next line. “They drive with a frenzy, fearless, not caring if death awaits.” These lines came up again and again in his mind until the thoughts burned behind his eyes until even the slightest light caused him to squint and pull away.

“Garron!” Talmakie shouted out of the flaps of his tent. “Front, now!” he added quickly to the summons. “Yes M’Lord” panted Garron as he entered the tent. Garron was tall for the plainsmen, not only that, but he was as stocky as their normal build. Too some he appeared a giant, but to Talmakie he was his battle karn and trusted advisor.

“Garron, what do you make of these men we fight? They carry no banner, I know not of their tongue or of their dress. None have been captured alive. What make you of them?” It was a direct question, one that Garron himself had been running through his mind these last few days. “They fight as men driven by the Dark Lord himself. Of their tongue all I have heard have been their screams, never in death but in rage upon the attack. The cloth on their backs is of simple weave, such as a girl child makes in the weaving houses.” The words came from Garron quicker than he had wished. He wished he had more time to think before being summoned by his Lord.

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More to come!