The Legend of King Atorian

  • A faint crackling emerges from the campfire as the flames dance above it. The fire warms your outsides while your mug of hot poppy tea warms your insides. You pull your thick blanket close as you gaze up at the stars filling the sky above you.

    Gramps, tell us that story again. the one about that Atorian guy!

    Oh, ok, ok.. He croaks, smiling at you he takes a swig of his tea before beginning;

    Once upon a time in a forest not far from this place lived a humble woodsman and his wife. One day while out chopping wood the woodsman heard a small whimper coming from a bush near the tree he was chopping. Carefully he parted the branches and found inside a small child, wrapped in rags and clutching onto a small golden ring, engraved with the words: to my beloved son, Atorian.

    With no person in sight, and no reason for anyone to be near, the woodsman took the child back to his home, and decided that he would raise the child himself, after all, he and his wife had always wanted a child.

    One day Atorian and his father were out chopping wood, his father had taught him well and he hade sure to check each tree for any living creature before cutting it down. Climbing a tree he came across a very rare sight, a nest, high off the ground, nestled carefully between two branches it's inside coated with a layer of soft crimson moss, and inside something even rarer, The Patchwork Bird! The Patchwork Bird, a sign of great fortune and responsibility, appearing only to those who were to be great people, and would go on to do great things. The Patchwork Bird who has no parents, nor has been ever seen to be born or to die. The Patchwork Bird who's feathers we're as crimson as blood and as yellow as the Sun.

    Atorian and his father took the bird home, they cared for it and looked after it while it grew, and so it became bonded to him, stronger than any bond between The Patchwork bird and a Man, before or since.

    Years passed, kings and rulers rose and fell. Atorian found himself a conscript in an army headed for war. Atorian fought well, and was soon promoted, his tactical abilities easily outmatching any foe. Eventually Atorian found himself advising the King, controlling half the army of the entire nation, a respected man to most but to the inner circle of advisors a problem.

    To the inner circle Atorian had become too powerful, too popular, so he had to be dispatched. They plotted his demise, sending him into more and more dangerous situations and battles that could not be won. But alas, their schemes fell through, Atorian was far greater a man than they believed, defeating even the harshest of the situations.

    Finally they hatched a plan. Far to the north lay an area of land infested with the most grotesque monsters that could be imagined, monsters that crawled out of the ground and ate grown men for breakfast. And so they decided, a reward for Atorian, a piece of land far larger than and other noble of their kingdom, a piece of land located entirely in this monster infested land. Atorian was a man of honour however, and received this gift with gratitude.

    While the inner circle of advisors rejoiced and partied at their schemes supposed success Atorian travelled north, to the land filled with creatures of the nightmare, to do what no other man could. To drive out the monsters, to slay them, to cut them into so many pieces that they would forever know their place. So many bodies covered the land in the days following Atorian's arrival that the grass could not be seen, and the rivers ran crimson with blood. Even to this day bones can be found from that very massacre. Atorian and his men pushed the monsters back into the ground from which they came, and built a great fort to watch over the northern plains, to ensure that any creature that dared to venture out of the earth would surely be defeated.

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