INTRODUCTION
Much of all information in the world several thousand years ago was disseminated
by word of mouth. True, many Atlanteans and others were literate but outside of the
merchant classes people in most communities, for the most part, did not read or write.
Information was thereby ‘saved’ in the memories of those involved in the telling and
retelling.
So when the global catastrophe occurred, leveling towns, villages, and cities,
displacing the few survivors, much information was lost [1] and in many instances
relationships between peoples had to start afresh.
In some cases, simple technology often had to be reinvented. The diminished
sections of the population (when there were survivors) had to start over with rudimentary
capacities to once again develop their material culture and the world became very
provincial in comparison to what it had been.
Therefore, meeting someone for the first time could produce anxiety or good
fellowship depending on the individuals and situation. In this ‘new age’ ushered in by a
cataclysm (ninety to one hundred years prior to these events) first meetings often
occurred.
With Atlantis leading the way this ‘new’ world was again reaching out to one
another in trade (and no doubt barter) and peoples were starting to ‘be on the move.’ The
Atlanteans had competition as usual but at this time with the trade markets diminished
an intensity was developing. Normal relationships had deteriorated if not ceased and for
this the possibility for transgressions increased.
The Minotaurs were once more Atlantis’ biggest competitor though others were
also taking advantage of the unsettled and difficult times. Survivors of the ‘Inundation’
shared the tragedies of the catastrophe and in a macabre though positive way for some the
survivors also shared the common ground to be starting life with the same disadvantages.
As equals to some extent.
From the translated texts it seems clear an aggressiveness and a single-
mindedness of purpose drove these remaining people. A purpose strong enough to
influence succeeding generations. Competition could be fierce. Fierceness could lead to
conflict…or, at least, hard feelings. The unknown was now extensive.
So, little was known about this ‘new’ world. Entrepreneurs (perhaps with covert
approval from political or business leaders) were seeking ways to create wealth for
themselves; moral, yes, but with all the shadings.
Into this world come Perser and his two closest friends Shan-Caudl the Cherf and
Ben Taran the elf. Adventurers? Opportunists? Cartographers? Heroes? Much more and
much less.
They were able under extreme circumstances to triumph with grace. There is
overwhelming evidence in the exhumed texts to infer that each of the three were well
known if not legendary individuals at an early time in their lives.
It is also clear from the extant manuscripts these three truly liked people and
loved seeing new sights. We have maps which they may have well drawn themselves
[our cartographical research is still in it’s infancy – ed.].
They found this ‘new’ world to their liking. They never knew what might happen
next.
As promised [2] I have given more time to translate and edit the shorter stories in
the texts we have unearthed. Almost once a month we uncover hidden amphorae in the
archaeological site which I am employed currently as an historian.
These large and usually intact jars can contain upwards to fifty pieces of material
or as little as a few broken scrolls.
This story is from a fairly short fragment but which, we think, has only a short
lacunae. It takes place at the same time as Perser’s adventure with Oaff. It began
as a quest to tell Shan-Caudl’s kin the events of an Orc raid on the Bakthrusian town
known as Lower Village.
To add spice and spur the journey for Perser and Shan-Caudl in seeking the town
of Strangbrew…oh, my, my, my there I go again. I’ll let the story present itself.
A GLORIOUS MORNING or, The Future is Bright
Shan-Caudl awoke after a very restful nights sleep. He awoke smiling and
wishing he could think of something to whistle. He was pleased with himself for taking
what must be the quickest route through the Karpathian Mountains he had yet to travel.
And so, he hadn’t a care in the world and was confident he would win the bet
with Perser. He had been traveling for almost a fortnight and he had already crossed over
the peaks of the range and was on the descent.
The land he found himself trekking through was lush of foliage and trees and
small beautiful meadows. Everywhere he looked there were canes of blackberries and
raspberries dotted with ripe fruit.
Birds flitted and sang and the sun was warm on this early spring day. The
Cherfman particularly liked it when the sun was diffused through the young leaves of the
trees creating an ambiance at once of comfort and of serenity.
As Shan-Caudl continued on his way after breaking his fast he started to smile.
He smiled for no real reason other than he was in an expansive mood. He then thought of
Perser and the route he thought his friend might have taken. A tough route that and the
Cherfman’s smile broadened. ‘I’m going to win the bet’ he thought and he laughed at
putting one over on his naïve friend.
“What’s so funny?” A voice piped in the wilderness.
Shan-Caudl stood stock-still and looked directly where the query originated. He
blinked. Thought about shaking his head but didn’t.
He blinked again.
Shan-Caudl wasn’t sure what he was looking at. In the short brush off the trail to
his right stood a small, very thin yellow person. Little hair on his head and none on the
body which he could see quite plainly. The Cherfman thought of this person as a he.
“I’m sorry. What was your question?”
“You were laughing. A good laugh if you don’t mind my saying it. I love to
laugh, though I cannot tell jokes well. And I need to laugh. Well, we all need to laugh, of
course, but I need to laugh right now, if you see what I mean.”
Shan-Caudl didn’t know how to respond and so, just stood there. The small,
deeply, buttercup-yellow skinned man, for he sounded like a male, also, just stood there.
They both blinked.
The small man stood behind a flowering bush which concealed him from the
waist down.
“Uhm,” was Shan-Caudl’s attempt to break the silence. He thought, ‘I know I’m
going to regret this.’ “Why do you need to laugh right now?”
“Is your vision good or bad?” he asked Shan-Caudl.
“Pretty good I’m told.”
“Well then. There you have it,” he said flinging his thin hairless arms wide.
“Have what?” replied Shan-Caudl. The Cherfman wanted to be polite but was a
bit confused.
“Why I need to laugh.”
The small man smiled a sincere smile. But he stayed behind the floral barricade.
Shan-Caudl shook his head and chuckled. “I’m sorry but I guess I missed
something.”
“You too? Then we have something in common though evidently we’re missing
different things. What are you missing?”
“I’m…um, well, I guess I’m missing the point. What are you missing?”
“Clothes, you see. I haven’t any clothes.”
“Ah. Then you usually wear clothes?” A statement and a question.
“Yes. I’m always attired and in my customary raiment I’m considered quite the
beau brummel.”
“Where are your clothes?”
“Stolen.”
“Who would steal,” and Shan-Caudl looked real close, “your…what’re you three
feet tall?”
The stranger became erect and his chest swelled. “Three feet five…almost. And I
may yet still be growing. I’m young, you see.” His chest deflated.
“So, you don’t know who would steal my clothes?” he asked Shan-Caudl in all
earnestness.
“No, of course not. Nor the why of it. I’m sorry, you must be…by the way, you
certainly aren’t human. What are you?” Shan-Caudl sat himself down, as he was now
quite curious and interested.
“I’m a gnome, of course,” the gnome said proudly. His chest swelling yet again,
he struck a dignified pose or at least as dignified as a naked person standing behind a
small bush could be.
“I know nothing about gnomes. Where do you hail from?”
“I come from over the sea,” and the gnome waved his arm in the direction of east,
southeast, and south.
Shan-Caudl looked at the general direction indicated but couldn’t imagine what
body of water the gnome could mean. It was perhaps six to seven hundred miles to the
nearest sea or ocean.
The Cherfman was stumped. “Why?”
“Why what?”
“What was the purpose of your traveling over the sea to get here?”
“I’m afraid I haven’t the foggiest notion.”
“Why?”
“Why what?”
“Well, why don’t you know why you traveled here?”
“I wasn’t privy to this information.”
Shan-Caudl wasn’t sure he should continue with this avenue of inquiry but
couldn’t think of another path to take.
“Well, how did you lose the companionship…you did travel with other gnomes?”
And when the stranger nodded, “then where are the other gnomes?”
“I don’t know. We were set upon. I must have been knocked unconscious. When I
came to I was disoriented and started wandering south. To return to the sea, you see.”
“Who attacked you? And perhaps we’d better introduce ourselves. I’m Shan-
Caudl.”
“I’m Phestiwrestivus, though I was told to shorten it and you can call me
Phestivus. And no one attacked me personally. At least, I don’t think it was personal.”
Shan-Caudl shook his head and thought if I shake my head anymore I’ll start to
hear something rattle inside.
“One sec, didn’t you just say you were attacked?”
“I meant that in the editorial ‘we’. I wasn’t beset on.”
Shan-Caudl’s face turned dark red and ominous, “you’re telling me your fellow
gnomes were attacked and you didn’t help?”
Phestivus in all sincerity replied, “no, I didn’t tell you that. In fact, none of the
gnomes were assaulted.”
Shan-Caudl stared and then wondered if his mouth was agape. He closed his
mouth and asked, “Phestivus could you tell me…do you have a shorter shortened name,
yours is hard for me to say…so, who attacked who?”
“Whom.”
“What?”
“Who attacked whom, I believe, is most proper. And I don’t know whom those
big, crazy, yellow haired, animal-skin wearing, axe wielding, shouting monsters
were who attacked our captors. And you can call me Fess. Any shorter I wouldn’t know
what you were saying.”
“You were a captive?”
“Yes, a very disagreeable predicament. In fact…”
“’Scuse me, ah, Fess, were the Atlanteans responsible for taking you and the other
gnomes,” the Cherfman stood and began to pace while pounding his fist in his palm,
“because I won’t stand for that. I’ll…”
“No.”
“Huh?”
“No, it wasn’t humans if the Atlanteens…what?…oh, I’m sorry, Atlanteans, if the
Atlanteans are human. It was the Minotaurs.”
“No kidding. Minotaurs. Sonava…”
“I wouldn’t kid you Shan-Caudl.” Fess looked hurt.
“I’m sorry Fess. I didn’t mean to offend you.”
Shan-Caudl pursed his lips, “well, you’ll have to wear something.” He
unshouldered his pack and rummaged through it. After a little while he pulled out a thin
doeskin jersey.
“Now, Fess, this shirt is important to me. It was given to me for my adopting
ceremony into a Bakthrusian tribe so if you want to wear it you’ll have to come with
me to Strangbrew. There we can get you proper clothes and perhaps help you get to your
home. At least that‘s the best place to start that I can think of.”
“Oh, you are a savior Shan-Caudl. This is the first time I’ve been away from
home and I really didn’t know what to do.” Fess caught the doeskin and put it on. He
vacated his place behind the bush.
The jersey came to below Fess’ knees and the fringe almost reached to the
ground. Fess did have shoes though they were soft leather and worn down from heavy
use. Shan-Caudl surveyed the gnome and said, almost to himself, “we’ll have to adjust
things a bit.”
The Cherfman went into the brush and came back with three vines. He stripped
the vines of their leaves and braided them. He now had a belt for Fess. He also cut some
grass and tied it together and told Fess to place it inside his shoes for more comfort in
walking.
“When we reach our campsite tonight I have some thread and a needle and some
leather and you can sew it to the soles of your mocs. You’ll not go too far with the
condition of your shoes.”
Fess started to say something but instead tears streamed down his face. He hugged
the Cherfman.
“There, there Fess.” The Cherfman said in an attempt to console the blubbering
gnome. “Don’t be sad. Everything will be all right.”
“I’m not sobbing because I’m sad. I’m happy.”
“What are you happy about?”
“I’m happy because of meeting a kind person. Gnomes are often treated badly by
others. We rejoice when we find kindness.” He then kissed Shan-Caudl on both cheeks.
“Oh, I’m sorry Shan-Caudl. I forgot humans don’t do that sort of thing but all
gnomes congratulate each other by that method.”
“Where’d you hear that about the double kiss?”
“Well, the humans at home don’t like it and the Minotaurs had a pale, red-haired
human keeper who said humans don’t like to congratulate each other that way.”
“Huh! Oh, I think it’s a fine way to show appreciation. Well anyway, you said
you lived amongst humans?”
Fess nodded his head. “They generally don’t bother us but they don’t like us
much either. And we taught them to use the spear thrower to hurl spears farther and
harder but they don’t seem to have found any affection for us for our troubles.”
“Well maybe you should come back with me to the town of Strathford. We can
talk to my friend. His name is Perser and he said he competed against all manner of
humans. Black-skinned, blue-skinned even some bronze-skinned if you can believe it.”
“I’ll believe it if you think I should.”
“Yes, um, by all means. So, Perser may know about your home and how you can
get back there. Anyway, Strathford is near the sea so there’s trading ships there.”
The Cherfman rose and said, “I bet you’re hungry. Let’s have some lunch.”
* * * * * *
“No, Fess, I don’t know why these berries aren’t called redberries.”
Shan-Caudl and Fess were finishing up the blackberries and raspberries near a
stream where they stopped for their midday repast.
Fess had been famished. He was not gifted at hunting even if he had had the
necessary means to affect it. And the trekking gnome knew not of berries having never
seen them before.
The gnome had been consisting on birds’ eggs. He was a very good
climber and said he could find birds nests easily enough which the Cherfman had him do
so they could have some eggs in the morning.
Shan-Caudl was able to track and trap a brace of coneys for a stew at supper and
they decided to just spend the night where they were rather than forge ahead. They
may not find as peaceful and idyllic place to set up their next camp.
“So much vegetation. You must really love it here Shan-Caudl. My home is
hardly more than desert though by the coast it can be lush.”
“Do you live by the coast?”
“The humans in the vicinity allow us one swampy area but generally we live in
the mountains. It’s so hard to defend ourselves, you see. Even if we were able to have
swords and such we’re still too small to actually hurt anyone.”
“So what weapons do you use?”
“Slings and short spears. We invented the spear thrower, you see. We also use a
boomerang though I’m not sure we invented that. We awfully good at it though.”
Shan-Caudl knew about spear throwers and boomerangs [3] but had little
knowledge of the sling. In the woods or mountain terrain there was rarely enough open
space for an effective deployment of the sling. However, Shan-Caudl fashioned one for
Fess. He thought it would make the small gnome less fearful of these new surroundings.
Fess had proved that the sling was indeed an effective weapon. In the next several
days he was able to bring down a pheasant and several pigeons for their evenings meal.
“All birds are toothsome,” he told the Cherfman.
“Fess where did you learn such good ‘common’?”
“In the holding pen at the Minotaur city. The red-haired human spent time with us
and taught myself and a few others the ‘Common Tongue.’ I learn languages easily, you
see and he seemed to think it would be a benefit, but he didn’t explain why.” Fess added,
“I’m glad he did. Teach us ‘common,’ I mean”
Shan-Caudl and Fess talked while they journeyed to the crossroad town of
Deeshan’s Ferry which was a stopping off place for those traveling west into the steppes,
south into the Karpathian mountains or taking a boat to the far north.
They ferried across the Lesser Lazy River after Fess became the object of many
pointed stares and went to a public house well known to Shan-Caudl named the Goblin’s
Bane.
[The largest lacuna is at this point – ed.]
Shan-Caudl and Fess left early the next morning intending to arrive at their
destination with daylight left. Ahead of them was easy journeying on well-worn routes
and they would enter Strangbrew on the second day. The weather was quite pleasant and
the afterglow of fellowship from the Goblin’s Bane allowed them to enjoy the day and
each other’s company.
After their midday sup they again walked unhurriedly toward the east. Within an
hour they finally saw others on the road. These were two large men but they approached
the pair traveling the same direction. The two very large men, for they could be seen to
be good-sized even from a distance, were walking fast, almost running though they did
not appear winded.
Before long these two caught up to the dawdling pair. Shan-Caudl had already
ascertained that these two were Nordh and Fess had already told him that they were
armed with battleaxes [4].
Shan-Caudl and Fess turned when the smaller of the two called out to them.
“Halt. Go no far.”
Shan-Caudl wasn’t sure he liked the tone. He wasn’t able to understand the
‘common’ well from this speaker but thought he knew the tenor. Both he and Fess
slowed to a stop.
The two Nordh caught up to the pair. Their breathing was heavy but not
belabored and they stared at Fess the whole time they caught their breath.
“Where ‘ave ya been little fella?”
“Why, thank you for asking. I’ve been in the mountains. Quite lovely this time of
year, though, of course, I’ve never seen it any other time of year, you see.”
“Where have you been?” Fess asked politely.
“Where wer’ ya going?”
“Why home, you see. How was I to know it was too far that way,” and Fess
pointed toward the mountains.
“Are you far from home, too?”
Shan-Caudl interrupted. He didn’t like the potential of this encounter and wanted
to set things straight. “Let’s introduce ourselves. I’m Shan-Caudl and my friend here is
Fess. What do you go by?”
Footnotes:
[1] See discussion in Plato Timaeus 25 C-D. “…for many generations the survivors died with no power to express themselves in writing” therefore, information could not be transmitted of what had occurred prior to the catastrophe. Thus, the Egyptian priests told Solon.
[2] See, ‘A First Time For Everything’ which tells of a young Shan-Caudl in the same Karpathian Mountains.
[3] ibid. Boomerangs were generally used in the steppes to the west.
