The Lord of all Bears

The Elwyn guards unsheathe their long swords, looking warily at the wanderer beyond the gate, wearing a breastplate bearing a rampant bear.

“Who dares step foot in this sacred land?” The intruder raises his eyes to the guards, places his left arm on the hilt of his short sword, which glows a light brown, and raises a scroll in his right hand. “I am Euros Formund, of High Mou… of Urryn.”

The Elwyn guards glance at each other, then back at Euros, “A moment, my lord”, says the guard in front. The Gate rises slowly, quivering the rocky terrain around it.

“Enter, my lord”, said the same guard, lifting his helm to allow a simple bow to the Lord of Bears.

Euros enters slowly, keeping his hand on the hilt of his short sword, and sends a slight nod and bow to the guards before walking into the city of Beorn, the heart of the Elwyns of Elwynnor, oblivious of what is coming his way.

Elwynnor are descendants of Elwyn the Old. Rumours have spread of a large force trained in the heart of Elwynnor, who they call “The Shamans”.

Urrynites have investigated this matter but believed it to be of no harm. Instead, the Emperor has sent Euros Formund, Lord of High Mount, to represent Urryn and strengthen relations with Elwynnor, as Euros is known for his great skills in diplomacy and oratory.

The lined-up Elwyn Guards bow as Euros Formund approaches, and in unison, the Bell Gate of Elwynnor opens to reveal the Halls of the King.

Euros walks in, slowly but surely, feeling the eyes of the Ruler’s Council eying him warily, never missing a moment.

Euros comes to a stop, places his hand on the hilt of his sword and raises the scroll he had been holding.

“My lords, my ladies, my exalted peoples, I come to you with a message.” Euros, as the Lord of Bears and all, feels the glimmering feeling of a sweat rolling down his back, and his forehead heating up.

“And who is it that comes with a message? And from whom?” says Stanric Elwyn, sitting upon his throne made of light-grey painted granite,

clearly from the western mines of Esreach, how in hell have they managed to make such trades with the Cloaks of Esreach?, thought Euros.

Stanric rises and unsheathes his falchion as he brings it up to the air and lines it up to face Euros, “Speak, Lord of Bears, we know who you are”

Euros feels that same sweat trickle down as more and more sweat drops emerge on his back, creating a wet area, visible from the cloth, but Euros stands upstraight and says, “I’ve come to deliver the words of the Emperor, the Emperor of our motherland, Urryn."

Euros takes a deep breath before letting out an exhale that would’ve fogged up the shiny blade of Stanric if it were closer,

“Emperor Themmon of Ivoria wishes to strengthen diplomatic relations with the beloved kingdom of Elwynnor. If you would be so kind as to take the letter and sign it, I would greatly appreciate it.”

Even as the Lord of Bears and the Formunds, Euros was never known to be brave like his brothers or any other Formund for that matter, but he was forced into ruling, and now he has to pay.

Stanric glares at Formund before commanding one of the ten Elwyn guards to retrieve the scroll from Euros, “You! Go fetch me that scroll,” The Elwyn guard bows towards Stanric, turns and marches towards Euros.

Lord of Bears felt a slight shiver as he saw a tanky, quite malignant-looking guard marching towards him with a halberd on his back that looked as if it could sever Euros's head with ease.

Euros pulls out his hand with the scroll and gives it to the guard, and while the guard marches back to Stanric, Euros feels a sharp pain in the left side of his ribcage, which he thinks it wise to ignore.

Stanric retrieves the scroll and slowly but surely unrolls it after ripping off the seal with his teeth, then he begins to read.

“I, Themmon, Emperor of the dearest Urryn, send the Lord of Bears, Euros Formund, Lord of High Mount, to negotiate terms with the Lord of Elwynnor, Stanric Elwyn, in exchange for the trade route through the Scattered Islands of the North.

May this relation last.. against all odds.

Signed, Themmon of Ivoria.”

Stanric rolls up the scroll, glares at Euros, “I understand. “Guards, escort the Lord of Bears outside the halls. I will be with him in a moment.”

As the guards approach Euros and take him by the arm to escort him out of the halls, he looks back to see Stanric dipping the scroll in a cauldron of burning torches,

allowing the words of the Emperor to burn with them.

Euros turns his head back around and remembers what Havel Formund told him,

“Flame is the tool of betrayal.”

Euros takes that into account and waits until he is fully escorted out. Once Euros’s skin was touched by the rays of the glowing sun at midday,

He waited until the guards were distracted, but not too long, until Stanric was outside the halls, so Euros left this opportunity no room to go to waste.

Euros unsheathes his shortsword all of a sudden and stabs the first guard in the eye, then slices the throat of the next.

Euros knows what he did immediately and rushes to escape from the city walls, no matter how many guards are on his back.

As Euros hurriedly escaped, he quickly tried to look for a nearby cropfarm to get his hands on a stallion to start for the port of Illen.

Euros finds a nearby cropfarm and, thankfully, no guards in sight.

He hurriedly rushes to the cropfarm and, as soon as he arrives, begins banging on the door, hoping to be answered by someone.

After what felt like ages, the door slowly creaked open, only an inch wide, revealing half the resident’s face.

“Who are you? What is it that you need?” The resident’s eyes looked Euros up and down, filled with unease. “I am..” Euros hesitates in telling him his true identity. Still, Euros was a horrible liar, “I am of the Elwyn Guards, sire, indeed I am”, straightening his posture to make it seem as if he was truly an Elwyn Guard, as he rests his hand on the hilt of his bloody sword.

The resident looks at Euros’s sword, noticing how bloody it is, “You are no guard! Speak! Who are you?”, Euros lowers his head and admits, “I am Euros Formund, Lord of Bears and of High Mount, i am in desperate need of a stallion as soon as possible, if you would be so kind to-”,

the resident interrupts him, “Dear god, it is you, the brother of Havel, the war lord!”, the resident opens the door all the way open and introduces himself, he had the looks of a man past fifty, but in truth he was not even past his twenties, he was clad in ragged clothing, a black and trimmed beard and old wrinkly hands, “I am Ganden of Aswen Keep, i am an old friend of Havel, we fought side by side at the Siege of Daygue”,

Euros froze, his eyes searching for any signs of deceit in Ganden’s face, clearly finding none.

“How wonderful.. now will you get me that stallion? I’ve no time for small talk”, Ganden jumps, noticing his mistake, “Yes! My lord of bears, forgive me” Ganden rushes to the stables, leaving Euros standing there, his hand still on the hilt of his sword.

Ganden comes back holding the reins of a beauty of a stallion, dark coloured, sharp facial structure and white spots here and there. Euron remembers his attitude towards Ganden and gives a slight bow, “I thank you dearly, forgive me for my sudden attitude” Euron grabs the reins of the stallion,

“Good day, Ganden, I shall let Havel know of the kindness you’ve shown me today.”

Ganden smirks, scratching his right temple, “Here’s the thing, my lord of bears” Euros looks at Ganden with a puzzled face, not knowing where this is going. Ganden opens up the saddle to bring out a freshly sharpened falchion, a hilt of the head of a black bear, in contrast to the brown bear of the Formunds, then sheathes it.

“I’m coming with you”.

Euros looks at his own sword, then at Ganden’s falchion, feeling a tension in his chest, “Are you sure about this? I am being hunted down like game by who knows how many Elwyn guards”

Ganden chuckles before blowing on his falchion, “Havel’s brother, lord of bears, I will never be able to sleep at night knowing you are being hunted near my keep.”

Euros smirks and pats Ganden’s back before shaking his hand, “You’re a good man, Ganden. I’ll make sure to find you a place in my Legion. “We ought to serve the land, my lord of bears.”

Euros turns around quickly as he hears the sound of hooves clashing onto the solid grassy land and the barking of desperate hounds, “We best get moving, Euros, get on your stallion, I will follow you.”

Euros nods and gets on his dark and white spotted stallion and starts east towards the Greywood. As Euros is speeding through the wet grassy lands near the Greywood,

He looks back and stops to see what he wished never would have seen, “Dear god, no..” The Elwyn guards have caught up to Ganden before he could have a head start in disappearing with Euros. Euros witnesses the guards hack and saw at Ganden’s lifeless body, and he sees puddles of blood from afar, which clearly indicate that Ganden put up a fight.

Euros watches closely as he rubs the stallion to quiet it down from making any unnecessary noise that would attract them. Finally, Euros catches a glimpse of one of the guards raising the banner of Elwyn, with the sharp crest of the banner’s spike going through what seemed to be a human head,

“Elwyn, Elwyn, Elwyn!”

shouted the guards from afar, and Euros comes to the devastating realisation that they have beheaded Ganden, and another warrior of immense honour was gone.

Euros couldn’t help but allow the tears to run down his sweaty and red cheeks, but as he was wiping those tears off with the sleeve of his clothing, he noticed the hounds barking uncontrollably, trying to run towards him despite the chains around their thick necks.

They’ve found him. Euros could see the Elwyn guards shouting as they ram their reins against their stallions, charging towards him. Euros immediately and not missing a chance, he shouts to the stallion to “Go!”, and slams the reins with all his might against the white spotted back of the dark stallion, the stallion charges forward towards the Greywood ahead.

Euros speeds through Greywood’s narrow passageways, immaculately not crashing into any of the densely thick trees. Euros was focused on making it out of these foggy woods,

When all of a sudden, he turned around to see if any were picking up his trail, until he was met with an arrow shot flying towards him. Euros closes his eyes and crashes onto the rugged and stony land of the Greywood.

Euros opens his eyes to find he has no arrow through him, but instead in the skull of the dark and white spotted stallion, gifted to him by Ganden. Euros places his hand on the forehead of the stallion, and wastes no time running, running wherever he can go, to keep running straight and out of this hellhole.

Euros eventually stops and notices that the guards and hounds have finally lost him. He sits down near a Greytree to rest and catch his breath, until he hears whispers of the tree he has been resting on, “In, In, In” Euros’s face becomes pale out of petrification, not knowing what on earth is speaking to him.

As Euros was placing his hand on the left part of his chest to calm his heartbeat down, the same greytree slowly opens, revealing what looks to be a great hiding place,

“In, In, In, it said, “In, In, In,"

and it kept repeating it in sullen and distant whispers, urging Euros to get in and hide before it is too late. Euros wipes the sweat from his face and calms down to comprehend what is going on.

“No, this is a call from demons, and I will never answer the calls of demons”

As he was calming himself down, he heard the smashing noises of hooves and the loud barking of hounds. At once, he saw the guards from afar. Euros is frightened and exhausted from all that riding and running,

So he inevitably closes his eyes and enters the damned greytree, and whispers to himself, “God forgive me…”, as the greytree closes behind him.

The Elwyn guards run past the greytree where Euros had been hiding, oblivious of where he was, until one of the hounds caught the smell of skin. It stopped hurriedly and sniffed a greytree with intensity.

The guards stopped to see where the hound was sniffing. It was a greytree, suddenly, the captain of the guards called out to the rest, “Bring the saw”, and brought the saw. They did. Two of the guards, the captain included, began to cut the greytree the hound was sniffing slowly, each second felt like an eternity.

Once they were done, the greytree finally succumbed and fell strongly, dropping branches and leaves of a greyish and distasteful odour. Red sap began to flow from the central part of the bark, but there was no sign of skin.

The captain of the guards kicked the hound, which sniffed right on the center on its skull, and kept bashing it until the hound was no more than a pile of brain matter scattered all around the area of the foggy woods.

The guards and the two hounds left, excluding the one that was bashed, and continued.

Suddenly, one of the two hounds pulled on the chains back to where the first hound was bashed, and the guards had no reason not to follow the hound. The hound kept sniffing the trails until it reached another greytree, walking past scattered brain matter and darkened blood clots on the ground.

The hound sniffed furiously, harder than the hound before, then it sensed something soft rubbing its nose. The hound began to bark uncontrollably, signalling to the other guards, who came rushing to see the greytree, with what supposedly looked like a brown piece of cloth stuck in between the ancient bark on the greytree.

The guards smirked as they looked at each other in pleasure. Euros held his breath ever since he set foot into this wretched greytree.

Euros then slowly put his left hand down to check on his longsword, when he felt that the lower part of his brown linen clothing got stuck at the greytree was closing behind him, Euros’s heart began pounding uncontrollably, daring not to make a noise but to hope for salvation.

The captain called again for that same saw, and he joined in with one of the other guards in the ritualistic act of deforestation, knowing that their desire is not deforestation, but to punish what deserves no punishment. One saw after the other, and another after the other, each brought Euros to peace.

Euros, known for his cowardice, was the contrary when he knew he is no place for salvation, but for the bitter taste of sweet death. A saw after the other,

And there fell the vicious and ancient greytree, like the one before it, only this time the red sap was greatly flowing from different directions, like rivers in vales.

The guards took the severed upper body of Euros Formund, the Lord of Bears, Lord of High Mount, and the once hero of the dear Urryn. The vicious Elwyn guards beheaded Euros Formund, left the rest of his split and beheaded body for the hounds to feast on for their good work, as the others lay crushed on the stony and rugged terrain of the Greywood.

The Elwyn guards plant Euros Formund’s head on another spiked banner, in the same way Ganden was ritualised to be.

Now, the Elwyn guards have completed their duty, and are ready to showcase their distasteful acts of dishonour to the Lord of Elwynnor, Stanric Elwyn, and mayhaps his wretched brother, Lennard Elwyn, in hopes to spark the flame of the Formunds.

For the Formunds will never forget, and Urryn stands tall and mighty, never forgetting.