By Dret Rylas
Related by Dret Rylas as passed down to him by his father and his father
before him.
The great city of Mercius, the jewel of the Trancian empire, lay in
the Fahlidi mountains overlooking a vast plain. Life in the city was that of
any other large habitation with good times and bad. The people of Trancian
were ruled by an emperor and his council. They were mostly just and fair,
but they were lazy and ill informed of the goings on in the surrounding
lands. Trancian had a huge army, but like the politicians they too were lazy
and far to laxed in their duties to the people. The people were pompous and
had neglected their gods for many years, believing that times were good and
so they didn't need the gods. The gods in return had forsaken the people
without them knowing it.
There was, however, a few exceptions to that rule that were diligent
in their training. These few kept their minds, bodies and spirits fit so
whatever trials they would face they would be able to overcome; and there
were bad times rapidly approaching from the horizons. One of these few, a
warrior by the name of Aestivan Rylas was an exceptional fighter and had
never been bested. It is said that he had fought one hundred men and won
without even a scratch. Many believed that the gods favored him and so he
was envied, but he was kind and well liked by most.
The dark day came during the games of the harvest festival, when
most of the cities inhabitants were at the arena, either watching the games
or selling their wares. From the crest of an adjacent mountain came a
thunderous noise growing gradually louder until the sound drowned out the
voices of the thousands who screamed for their champions in the ring. The
citizens were dumb struck and the soldiers were not prepared. A dark army of
enormous proportions fell on the city like a plague, filling the streets
with its fowl contempt for life. The army began to massacre the people of
Trancian with little resistance from the Trancian soldiers in their futile
attempt at organizing a suitable defense. The Trancians were being decimated
and something had to be done.
Aestivan, seeing that his people and his home were being destroyed,
prayed to Ardula for strength. It is stated by witnesses that at that moment
the hand Ardula himself reached from the sky and touched the weapon of
Aestivan. The warrior took up the axe touched by the gods and waded into the
fray. He hacked and slashed and felled enemy soldiers at every turn. He had
slaughtered hundreds of the dark scourge within minutes, but their number
was too great. Aestivan knew that even blessed, as he was, his strength
could not hold out.
Aestivan called to other warriors who had not been lazy and they
began to gather as many civilians together as they could while he held the
enemy at bay. When all were gathered that could be Aestivan and the six
other warriors made a tactical withdrawal up and over the mountains. There
were so few of them that had escaped that the dark army didn't even bother
to give chase. They were content with their slaughter and destruction of
Trancian.
The small group of people wandered through the mountains for years,
looking for a suitable land to begin a new life. Just when it seemed that
the perfect place could not be found the company came out of the mountains
onto a lush plain of rolling hills. Aestivan and the six other warriors
formed a league that would govern the people they had led this whole time.
The league would be disciplined and fair and not be lazy. They learned to
build structures that would withstand assaults from large numbers of foes
and they sculpted the lands to their advantage. With so much open land and
so few citizen, the people who had come to call themselves after the name of
their great leader Aestivan began to move farther out settling new portions
of this great place. The league of Aestivan kept tabs on all new settlements
and any man who called himself lord of his lands still answered to them.
When Aestivan, the last remaining man to have faith in the old gods, became
an old man and his time to go to the gods had come he went on a journey. He
never disclosed his direction or intended destination to anyone he simply
left. He took with him only the clothes on his back and his great axe that
had been blessed by the god Ardula. Aestivan was never seen or heard from
again. It is said that he returned to the city of Trancian to die in the
place he was born. Others say he went in search of the leader of the dark
army to kill him. One thing is certain, though, that many Aestivan axe men
have spent their whole lives searching for the artifact, the Axe of
Aestivan.