We are Princess Abaderial Bastern ll, the last princess of the lost Elven kingdom of the Kurnlands.
Since few whom live understand the concept of royalty, and the meaning of “we” related to “we”are the people, and there by are granted power to serve by royalty, not dictate as is done by nearly all whom today claim to be kings. l will refer to myself as “I and me“ in this memoir.
This is my story, a story that is entwined in the roots of the history of Athas.
I want to put my memories down on this parchment, since no one that lives remembers what I do, before I hopefully leave this gray prison and join my forefathers, in the faywilde land with in the winds.
It´s always hard to know where to start, but I guess from the beginning would be best.
I still remember when I was a child free of worries, playing in these fabled halls, it seems just days ago at times, thou many Kings ages have passed.
I was born the third successor to the throne by my mother the Elven high Queen of the North.
She always stated that I was her love child, born out of just that, and not born out of duty, to be sat on the Throne like my brother, the king to be, and the next in line whom would take to the throne if the oldest didn’t make it into adulthood.
My 2 brothers were taken from me early in my life, I remember little of them, just a child`s inner pictures of laughter, playing catch and seek in the green medows near Rifaks wall, and their teasing calls “find us love child”
Back then dark times had already fallen on us, the kingdom was at war, it was the last united elven nation to stand against the might of the cleansing army, set on destroying the elves of this world.
The Champion Alberon, had spread lies about the elven race for ages, most deceitful of them, that the longevity of elves was due to stealing power from the dying sun.
When Alberon the champion laid siege our city and brought the peaks og mount Timor, down on the spires of Kurn, my brothers took up swords to defend.
Some say they met him personally on the field along with the meorties, and wounded him mortally.
That at least is the story told to us, and the story woven in to many pillows, wall hangings, and forge on braziers tiles in our proud city.
In the end, the opposing army was split and destroyed, and Aldebron the slayer of elves, was forced to retreat from the northern kingdom.
It was not whotout great loss to us, one of my brothers lay dead on the battlefield, and the other never recovered from the shattering psionics wielded against his mind on that day.
Alberon never came that close to Kurn again, thou that didn’t matter much.
40 years later, when I was what humans perceive as the age of 15 years, rumer had it that Alberon had recovered from his grave wounds, and had again gathered an army in the south, scouts from Kurn were sent to investigate at the borders of our land, there were a few skirmishes, parts of what then was a large forest was burned by his ligeon, but no greater battles occurred.
What the victors of these skirmishes brought home was far more devastating though.
Our people, the elves of Kurn suddenly started dying of a strange sickness, later deemed Alberons curse, in just a few years the population dwindled to 1/3, even in the palace the loss was great, both my mother and my father the King died in those darkest years.
Of the royal line only my mind shattered brother and I were left, I used to look at his face and envy him, because he did not have to witness and understand the horror and fall of our proud kingdom, and the dark future that lay ahead for all elves.
I had to see the hate between the clans lid up, and hear the death moans of many kin, and in the end I saw the last elf leave the once proud City of Kurn, before my young heart broke and I threw my self off the peaks of the Snow crown mountains.
The Gray opened its fangs to greet me, I had hoped to dwindle there only shortly before passing deeper in, vanishing and hopefully joining my ancestors in the feywild.
That did not happen, I have pondered on why I remain here on the border of death, with no answer for ages. Athas will not leave its grip on me, maybe it is fate, maybe punishment.
I have seen many die since, most fade away in the gray as time passes and they forget what they were in life, I may be released one day, like the Dwarfs, and Trolls of old are believed to fade off and sink to the kore foundation of earth, where they are said forever to rest in tranquility.
Ages passed in the Ruined city of Elves, only I and the meorties whom swore always to protect Kurn remained here dead as we were in the ruins of a abondaned dead city.
Then one day men came, first a few scouts, soon followed by a people.
These were the Keltas, led here by their Commander Keltis.
Keltis sought a place for his tired veterans, far from the horrors of the Cleansing wars.
Keltis was himself a retired Champion of the war bringer Rajaat.
We did not want this evil to root in our city, and met him on the Banding slopes near Kurn.
He came forth him with no shield or weapon, he was at loss and disillusiened, only the plea of his people left him still standing.
We knew what he was, the meorties would have struck him down. I do not know why I did not let them, maybe it was something in the sadness of his eyes that reminded me of my long dead brothers.
He pleaded for his people, he vowed to rebuild the city in respect of its past, that all elves would always find a home here, a promise that he has kept ever since.
As years passed I Bestern helped him become what he is to day, threw the ancient tomes of wisdom and magics hidden in the great Elven library of Kurn: A avingion, a creature of hope.
Keltis or Orionis as he is called now, is a broken, but strong and willful man.
He repents for the evil deeds done in the war, turning seas into dust to kill the lizards whom lived there, and for every Keltas whom died for a wrongful, deceitful cause.
His hart is filled with more sorrow then any man can bare, losing all he loved time and time again.
His loved Sielba rejected him and died, surrounded by her own unpleased greed as her city Yaramuke went up in flame.
His closest friend and ally in the wars, went mad and isolated himself on that island in the dust.
Commander Meran Azeth is gone, Korgunard his apprentice is dead, Prodogie his latest wife has plotted against him and left the city.
Only I remain, and have no comfort to offer.
Still he remains strong and fast in his mission to preserve the North and, keep his people safe.
We seek this not with hearts because his is broken with loss and regret beound repair, I have non and hardly remember it’s beats, we seek it with our minds…
It is certainly ironic that the New vision of a better place, was awoken in a strange place, actually in the mind of a now mad king.
During the last year’s of the cleansing wars, Daskinor told of a goblin city Juhudhuzar, with a false front. How he nearly missed to realize that inhabitants there hid from the praying eyes of his scouts.
I believe this brought forth the idea in his companion mind, kings ages later, when Oronis discovered Orohna valley.
Back then it was inhabited by hafling tribes, whom of most didn’t take it to heart to share the valley.
Primary because the chiften Thas Mac’Cabb, wasn’t prepared to share his power, on the other hand his forces weren’t a match for the well trained army of the Keltas.
A few hafling chose to remain, most followed the chiften into what the North Rohorind call the great exodus. This still passes down threw tales at the campfires in the halfling tribe’s to this day, the hatred I fear will one day ignite again.
Only 4 known passages laed to the fabled valley.
One threw the heavily guarded fort protector, one well hidden in the garden of remembrance behind the the walls of Kurn, where scores of avirak breed, and stop those whom do not drink from the stream of fading memories.
One in the Thray-ee Pass threw the mountain to the North Rohorind, where the semi primordial of the white mountains dwell inside and guard.
The last is over Buranic range or Rifaks wall, the mountains that surrounds the valley, from where no mortals ever have recorded to pass.
But I believe, the valleys best defense is it’s ability to stay hidden and unknown to evil prying eyes.
KURN
