[Hansea]

Saint Marusius – The Messenger
Written in High Calradic.

About Saint Marusius we know not terribly much. Yet what has been gathered you shall here read. The tale is composed of fragments as collected by Father Fredrick Uro during his travels of the Kingdom of Swadia and the borders near the Rhodok Highlands. Some will be from dusty books in forgotten monasteries while other pieces have been sewn together with the wise assistance of our world’s most keen scholars – farmer wives.
 
Marusius, or Marisius depending on the region, was once but a humble man of little means living in a village on the borders between the civilized world and that of the dreadful horselords. He was not blessed with a magnificent physique, nor wealth, nor status. Instead, he tended pigs behind the tavern. His wife had only recently given birth to their first child – a son who still struggled to overcome the threats from across the Veil that seek to harm any new-born. Threats were found aplenty and the village stood exposed because the local lord had not the will nor means to defend the fief from the many raids. Wishing to leave and bring his family to safety, Marusius was restrained by mortal laws for the Lord had need of his taxes. So, he stayed.

The day that had long been feared finally came. Across the hills came a band of horsemen swinging sabres and wielding bows. Their eyes were savage and their clothes as primitive as their previous victims had been. Nonetheless, their ferocity knew no equal. The village militia mustered but stood little chance against experienced warriors who were only too keen to find where what little treasures were stored. Church bells ringing and chaos in the street alarmed Marusius whose heart wept for a wife and child who were sure to meet death at the hand of raiders if nothing could be done.

With the pitchfork that he had only just used to feed the tavern horses hay, our hero took to the street only to see a horseman fall from his mount, struck by a slingshot. Overcome with fear, Marusius realized at once that his lacking muscles would be no match for the threat the village faced. Still, he put on the armour of the fallen raider and seized his bow. His arrows landed nowhere though, carried by the Maker’s wind into the grass. Desperate to act, the hero was blessed with a memory of the last service he had attended.

“The Maker in his infinite wisdom, created children in his own image, beings of modest size, but beings of intelligence over savagery, He created mankind.”

The pig tender abandoned his village. He ran as fast as his feet could take him for, he knew not how to ride. His wife, believing him to be a coward, took to hiding in the hay with her babe at her bosom. All hope was surely lost. However, Marusius soon appeared at the back of the raiding party, believed to be one of their own as he stood dressed. He claimed to be a messenger of the Warlord and warned of an attack from the desert people on the tribe hold. Tricked and alarmed, the horselords called off their raid and took off for home. The village was saved.

Such security could not last though, and the Maker blessed our hero with a silver tongue and speedy feet. He never did learn how to ride. With his new gifts, Marusius ran to the Lord’s keep and charmed him greatly with tales of splendor. A garrison was sent to the village while the pig tender was escorted to the King of the Land only to be appointed the royal messenger in reward for his heroism. What happened then is a great mystery. It is said, however, that Marusius pledged his life to his Creator and traversed our mortal world, announcing peace and protection to the poor and exposed. As he spoke, it was made true, and no raiding party dared come near a village until the Maker claimed our hero for his family of Saints.
 
May the Maker forever bless us and give us hope through the tales of heroes of old. Let us always remember that our Creator gave us life so that we may have peace and never rush to conflict. By his Glory, we pray.

[Hansea]

Telestis Epidius

of the paladin whose ventures took him to the furthest north of our known world as recorded in the Praven archives. Written in High Calradic.

In the days of old when the Divi still walked the plains of our earth, many knights still held to the greatest virtues. The very bravest and faithful of these were known as paladins. In those times, the world was still mostly untamed and it was not safe for the children of the Maker to inhabit it.

Telestis Epidius had been a marvel from birth. Larger in stature than other men and yet more humble than all of them, it was said that until adulthood he aged three years for every one of his peers. His mother often worried about him though, afraid that his brute force would leave him susceptible to vanity, pride and the snare of the Veil. Hence, she brought him before the Divi and pleaded for help and mercy upon her son. On the brink of pure rejection, Rhudan of the Sea saw a spark of hope within the boy and found for him a position within the clans that followed him into battle with the mighty beasts and terrors of the world and dark oceans below.

As a squire to his betters, Telestis shone as a paragon of virtue already. He rose early, aided the camp followers with their tasks after instruction by his mother who had warned him not to forget the innocent. It was when his axe struck a tree, when his hand turned a skewer and when he drew water from the rivers that his senses were strengthened. His body became strong and the nearby presence of Rhudan himself blessed the squire with divine guidance in his mind.

The efforts never went unnoticed, for it is known to all that the Maker sees everything and his children that guided us almost just as much. Rhudan raised Telestis into knighthood and soon charged the giant man with leading one of his vanguard forces northwards. Evil beasts were covering the fertile land in snow and eternal winter, hoping to keep mankind out of their territories. The fields soon became infertile, the land inhospitable and the few humans still living there into coldhearted monsters who sold their souls to the beasts in exchange for protection and food. The Knight was not to return before life prospered once more in all corners of the Maker’s creation.

It was on his way south after his many victories that a messenger came to the Paladin bearing a plea from a village community. They had all heard of his brave deeds. With no knight stronger or nobler than he, Telestis was their only hope. A serpent lurked in their waters and had attracted a crowd of minions who had already given up eternal life in service to it. Together, the two now threatened the livelihood of the Maker’s children who had come seeking their own fortunes. Finding the news unbearable to his heart, Telestis set off to their aid and came upon the region of Curin.

Clad in his steel armor and with a spear in his hand that measured longer than a horse but came merely to his shoulders, the Paladin found a region already at war. A stalemate had ensued between Makerists and cultists, the former half-starved and of low morale. The fishermen could not believe their fortunes at the sight of the famed knight, but their weak bodies made them unfit to incapacitate the minions on their own. It was Telestis then, who steered his horse at the cultists and sallied forth alone to drive them back. Fearing that their hero might die if they did nothing, the fishermen charged forth behind him. Together, they pushed the cultists back behind their palisades and laid siege, paving the way for Telestis to venture alone in search of the beast.

The serpent sensed the presence of a warrior of Rhudan yet felt the great peril it was in. Ever cunning and cruel, it hid deep in the waters. So, the Hero called upon Rhudan and ventured down into the depths to finish the evil within. The battle raged for days although there was nothing but dead silence on land. Neither serpent nor Paladin were ever seen emerge from the waters again. Believed that Telestis had achieved victory once more, it scattered the defenseless minions who fled far away faster than the fishermen could chase them down. However, as history tells they would later return praising new false idols and Gods to threaten the Maker’s children once more.

As to why Telestis was never seen again, no one can know for sure. It is believed though that the man was eager not to revel in the glory and honor that he would have been afforded and which would have done nothing but encourage within him the pride and vanity that his mother had been so worried about from the beginning. While some say that the Paladin perished in his fight, such rumors were easily dismissed as foul words spoken by the scattered barbarians, embarrassed by their own defeat. Curin was never to forget their Hero though. It is said to this day that the river remains abundant with fish as a reminder of the deeds of Telestis Epidius. A blessing from Rhudan himself.

Text collected from the diaries of Father Euclio of the Curin fisher church & Chaplain Halisca who wandered with the clans of Rhudan.