A Show Of Skill - an anciant poetic Elvish ballad

Ancient Elvish design depicting 'inspiration'.

"A Show of Skill.

The first tale of the fall of peace.

 An ancient story from before the coming of the Dwarves or the Humans to the Elvish Shore.

The first paragraph in the original Calobelvan-

Deanor mo teihc, o Rian,  Al mo gaer o balewin.

Ca fi o fean ma varg  Mo shall al col laeg,

A mo lune luel yalamor  Nawlag yal teihc o morin

The first part in a rhyming Kreyician translation to Common, collected from nomadic minstrels - 

Daernor of Rian was called the bow,

Through out the forest of Balwin,

His moves where fast, his temper slow,

The trees of the forest were his kin

His bow he bent like the crescent moon,

Though his strength belied his grace

For he talked with birds and sang their tune,

And by his side the deer kept pace.

Clad in green and bronze was he,

In robes of finest spiders silk

Embroidered thick with leaf and tree

As fair and fine as all his ilk

With shafts of ash and bow of yew

Skilled with hand and sharp of eye

Straight and true his arrows flew

As fast as the falcon cuts the sky

One day while walking near his home

He met a friend he knew quite well

And as they walked upon the loam

Of a gathering that friend did tell

"In south and the midday heat

By the river and the willow tree

The gypsies of our folk will meet

They hope to test in archery

They hope to find the smoothest flow

The keenest eyes and steadiest hand

The greatest pull of elf and bow

The finest archer in this land"

These words of the passing test

His friend told Deanor in mirth

Little knowing of the deep unrest

His passing story would unearth…

Deanor's soul burned bright with joy

It burned up high within his chest

He swore by the wood of his travois

That he should show them his prowess

And never more could he be calm

Never more could he keep still,

Until he had shown them of his arm

Until he had proved his finest skill

Like the sun he ran to the place

He knew that they would meet

Like the swift in all its grace

He ran with pounding heart and feet

A straight translation in to Common of an ancient version held by the Abail Elves (edited lightly so that it makes sense)-

Deanor of the bow, of Rian,  Living in the forest of Balewin. 

You could see in his grace  That the sun was in his arrows, 

And the silver moon herself  Had blessed his bow of yew. 

She shone full upon his strength,  Yet full eclipsed upon his fate. 

            An elf clad in green and bronze,  Shirt embroidered without space. 

            On his front was the leaping deer  And on his back shone the moon.

His step was light on the earth, Only plants passed his mouth. 

He used his bow only for sport  And had never yet drawn blood.

            You might well say, and be right, That he was an odd elf to do battle!

Four march’s down a posted-path, Was Rian from her nearest neighbor,

But in the corner of the seasons  The Lwis of Pinseawin meet, 

To trade in goods and gossip,  And dance and tell good tale’s.

            One fine spring, on new years day,  Deanor set out for the tribal camp. 

            His best bow was across his back  And a quiver of arrows at his side. 

            He was quick stepping and fleet footed  For he wanted to game in archery

            Against the finest shots in Pinsaewin  For he heard that few where better.

In the camp where he was headed  The games had already started, 

And the gaming was hard and fast  Between Waudvall and Windreel.

            Waudvall was tall and dark of eye,  His past was sad and his face was grim. 

            His tribe had fed the great gray wolves  With more than just their prayers,

            Slain by a rockfall on the mountains  While on the high summer meadows,

            Picking herbs and making dry bale’s  To heal those of the forest loam.

No leaves or cut root or flower  Could he heal his battered tribe,

And after mountain shacking grief  He left them to return to earth.

            Windreel was of the fine Gay~lwis  Who dwelt in Cean o laeg’s splendour

            She dressed as brightly as anyone  And wore scarlet ribbons in her hair.

            Her skill went all throughout Gaer, for she was a prodigy of excellent stock.

            She was a maid of the fern creepers, and wore the blood proudly on her face.

For two days they won all games  None stood before the black and red

And the third day they faced face,  The three part game for only them.

            An ashen wand of naked white was set  At fifty paces in the woodland gloom.

            And each turned their backs in tension  And at a cry they swirled and shot.

Out they sped, crow and pheasant,  Arrows like two forks of lightning.

            The wand shattered like a totem stick,  As even as if split by a craftsman’s axe.

            The red feathered behind it in a tree,  The ravens arrow splitting it knock to tip.

The watchers cheered and smiled,  Waudvall raised a brow and bowed.

She was good and he a game down,  Spirits willing he would gain the next.

            They walked onto a hills cleared top,  Where trees where kept from growing.

            It was a hill of flowers, nectar in the air,  Lush and verdant, cool and bright.

            Across its brow was a line of sticks,  Straight down wind for all its length.

Windreel drew till she near shook,  And sweated down her bloody cheeks.

A whistle to summon the wind,  She raised her bow and loosed her fingers

            Up and up her arrow flew straight,  Like a sparrow hawk it rose to the sky.

            It kissed the clouds before falling back,  Over the brow of the hill and beyond.

Not since Fearndram, the mountain man,  Had any Elve seen such a shot.

            Waudvall’s eyes darkened as he stepped up,  His arms bare and his hood down.

            A single tear slipped down his cheek,  For he had given this game to the dead.

He stood as still as a watching deer,  His huge black bow limp by his side.

Silence fell upon those assembled,  For none wanted to see the giants fall.

            With a cry of rage and of pain  He raised his bow and drew and let lose.

            He moved fast, his arrow faster still,  Leaving the crowds eyes behind it.

They walked up the line of sticks,  The others followed reverently behind.

They crossed the brow of the hill,  But no arrows could they find!

            They walked down to the wood  And there like a faeries charm,

            The pheasant arrow stuck proud  For Windreel had shot her line true

At her side Waudvall let out a cry  And a smile stoked his lips,

For twelve feet on, his raven stick  And he claimed the shot for history.

            So one each they went down the hill  And beside the river washed their arms.

~*~

Draw back your engaged minds  To the elf of bronze and green,

For Daenor had reached the camp  And sat in a willow of ancient age.

With interest he watched the elves  As they bathed at the waters edge,

The tall dark man in deep hyreadd  And the girl with blood streaked cheeks.

            The last game was the hardest yet  For it involved both skill and speed.

            An elf with strength in her arm  Would toss ten javelins across the path.

            Together they would try their craft  And hit them like a leaping deer.

They spread apart and aimed  As the first pale spear took flight.

Two arrows left two bows at speed  And a third hit them in mid-flight.

            A cross of wood from three arrows  Fell stricken to the leaf strewn loam.

            The bedraggled crow and golden pheasant  Captured in an eagles mettle grip,

            For from his ancient willow perch  The bow of Daenor had slain it’s own.

Waudvall put down his bow in anger  But Windreen set her chin.

The second javelin sailed up high  And yet again a cross of wood.

            Daenors bow was hungry still,  And took down the scarlet prey.

Like followed like for nine shots  Till the last javelin flew fleetly forth.

Then Windreel tossed herself down  And shot so low and early,

That passed beneath the eagles flight  And chipped the slender spear.

            With a grin Daenor leaped down  And bowed to the ground in praise.

Waudvall scowled and stepped up, With dignity he notched an arrow,

And raised his black, six-foot bow  And fired up into the suns face.

Swiftly took he another arrow  And shot his first in a perfect cross

            Windreel raised her bow of bleeding yew  And fired at the sun in like.

            Her second arrow hit her first,  But a T and not a cross did make.

Daenor smiled but raised his bow  And bent it like the crescent moon.

He sent his arrow at the light,  And a second to follow in its wake.

They struck like a raptor strikes  And a cross of wood was made.

So joined it fell like a wounded bird,  Towards the startled crowd

            But Daenor raised his bow again  And stuck the falling trophy.

            And thus like a meteor it fell,  A star that showered glory

Waudvall touched his shoulder  And Windreel went onto her knee.

There was no doubt in Pinsaewin  That Daenor was master of his craft."

A map of the "Elvish Shore" (slight nudity)

A map of "the Elvish Shore" by Faadon Naano

The Elvish in this banner reads "[th]e elvi[sh] [sh]ol" - The 'l' at the end must be a miss spelling - it should be 'r',  the character to the right.

Green Man from above map

We will look more closely at the main map later, but for now will content ourselves with the border.  The pattern of spiraling vegetation is a variation on an old Elvish one.  In the modern age, when the Elvish peoples feel themselves to be in somewhat of a winter for their race on this part of Ottarol it is without leaves, except for close against the green man, the symbol of the green god who gave life to the paper which made it. This means the original (perhaps this is the original) was drawn on Gaer tree-paper, rather than Vellum.

A similar green man from a much older Elvish map

The depiction of a Dragon and a Unicorn is also an old Elvish devise.  These two beings are believed to be the creatures most in balance between the three substances of matter, consciousness and faerie.

Dragon from the map above

Unicorn from the Map above

Unicorn from an older Elvish Map

 

The beings at the top are a reference to the fact that though this area is referred to as the Elvish Shore this is an anachronism.  Now there are Dwarves and Humans living in this area, and the Elves are no longer a united race but split into countries.  

Forest Elve

The first depiction is of a traditional forest dwelling Elve of Gaer. With longbow in hand and curved blade by side this being carries the long banner of history in their hand.

Dwarve

Next comes the fearsome Dwarvish iron clad warrior who first arrived in this land in the early days of their ancient empire. Now they inhabit rebeliouse Nazuralnitotzu and certian remnant townships on the Western Plateau.  They bare aloft the broad axe of their people, symbolizing the cutting and the carving out of these lands into nations. The Galmearans who they drove out of these lands are not depicted.

Plains Elve

Here is the long legged Plains Elve of Cananshall. Although their people roamed the area before the coming of the Dwarves it is only through the deforestation of the Dwarvish Empire that their current lifestyle fully developed.  They are depicted carrying an atlatl, two small spears to through it with and a long barbed spear. The atlatl symbolizes the length of their limbs, the two darts their speed and dispersed population. The long spear symbolizes their own unconquerable strength. Above them fly two birds symbolizing freedom, and beside is a mobile tipi symbolizing that they are forever on the move, while no Plains Elve can be depicted without a horse! 

Human

Lastly is the Human. in an old pot helm and a hunting spear. Faadon Naano has chosen to depict them as the noble but poor beings they where originally when they came to these shores. This is probably because given the choice between the northern Kingdom of Brach, with its often overblown and cruel leaders operating in a strictly feudal society, and the Common Lands of Brach to the south where an older and more democratic system based of gift giving and bravery is in force, Faadon felt the later better fitted the flow of history.  The castle depicts their reliance on these structures, and the banner planted in the earth depicts how reliant they are on personal stakes in land.  It is shorter than the elvish banner given their shorter time here. It is also set up to show their historical opposition to the Elvish people.

Compass Rose

At the bottom of the map is Faadon Naano's elaborate illustrated compass rose. 

Domtajoyan human and Cheetah

  

Domtajoyan trade goods

To the left is a dark skinned human from Domtajoya, the Human land in the extreme south-west. Behind him are trade goods symbolizing the wealth of the region, as well as the fact that most contact in the region is through trade rather than conflict. The Domtayoyan man brings decorated carpet, a famous export of the region, a jeweled  knife, a snake skin belt and a box of spice. Behind him are the long grasses of the fertile bits of his country and the sacred cheetah of his Savannah. He carried in his hand a ceremonial hammer-axe, as used on state occasions.

Elvish Shaman

Elvish trade goods

The Elvish woman is a shaman from the north eastern Sharmail Island region. (This area is called the Haunted Islands on this map - this is the Human name and serves the purpose of making the surviving underground vaults of this ancient library relatively undisturbed - this is a trick learned from the Galmearan people.)  She brings fruit from the forest gardens, a sealed drum of olives from her trade partners in Zingomoogaer, and the vital reason for her continued existence on this island, copies of the ancient elvish books.  Behind her is the  timid sacred deer of the island, and thick vegetation. Her weapon is the saw-spear, developed from the tools the elves have both used to tend their forest gardens and defend their privacy.  

The strait horned cow skull is from the Cananshal region, and the spear looks like the ceremonial spears of Darngaer, both regions central to the map.