On planes of ice, which once were grass,
an eventful birth came to pass,
A child survived the pressing ice,
for which he had to pay the price,
But which was to be his latest hour,
actually gave to him his power.
For every tribe, village or local people here in Narfell I have found they have their own version of a prophecy like this. And to make it harder to find the true prophecy is that new versions are made every year. One thing I have found is that the first two lines are always the same. The prophecy is older than the breaking, so it was properly prophecied that these lands would become of ice. That makes the first two lines true and proof of my research. I have spent a great time in these lands and have been translating ancient pieces found in ruins of old places. Of which one was the one I wrote down above. I have still the rest to translate, but after the sixth line the writing has changed somehow. I cannot find it's meaning. Did the one who wrote it in ages past change his mind, his language or did he simply go insane? The only thing I can get from parts of it is about some place called the Thunder Peaks, which lies many miles to the southwest. I will have to go there soon. I have done what I can with Tyrr. If this truly is the real prophecy and if Tyrr really is the one spoken about I at least have tought him how to survive this world. And somehow I just know he will be following me someday and he will be pulled to these Thunder Peaks aswell.
Learned Teller Douven Staul.
Winds raged across the planes. Thunder boomed in the distance and pelts of icy hail struck his beaten face. It had been a good hunt, the weather was so bad even the animals were confused and tried to hide in the worst places. No one mad enough to go out hunting in this weather, so Murhak had it all to himself. His arrows didn't fly farther than a few yards and his sight was almost zero. But when an animal was half frozen in the snow the kill was easy and the arrow didn't need to fly very far. The food was frozen so it would need extra care in skinning, and preparing the meat was gonna be a drag if he wasn't going to be able to get a proper fire going. But that was a care for later, he first needed to get his fresh kills home. Karha was waiting at home with his new born son and they weren't sure the newly born was going to survive yesterday's birth that almost went wrong. And he had to find his way back through this weather first.
Tyrr survived that day, but his stamina never caught up with him. He still had coughing attacks and could not always keep up with the other kids. He fought hard and trained to keep strong, but he would probably never become a good warrior. Good thing that one day he was found rummaging around in a nearby ruin by teller Staul. This changed the course of his life and dreams.
'Do you know what it is you are playing with, young man?' said a male voice from behind Tyrr. He whirled around pointing the plaque in the general direction of the voice.
This is how the friendship begun. Teller Staul knew a lot about magic, but he didn't have any of his own. He could help the boy concentrate and teach him stories and knowledge of the world, but he couldn't teach him magic. This Tyrr had to do by himself. And if he wasn't so eager to learn new things and wasn't as smart as he was he would probably have failed. But they persevered and he learned how to control his powers. Douven always left for a while now and then to get more information from farther ruins or places and one day when he came back he brought with him an empty book. He told Tyrr to write his powers down so he wouldn't have to make them up again everytime. This turned his chaotic magic into a proper structure he could reuse if he wanted to. This they kept up for a few years as Tyrr grew older and Douven collected more history. But they just couldn't translate one ancient text. The answer to this they thought was in the Thunder Peaks. Tyrr wasn't free of duties yet and not old enough to make his own decisions. He was still bound to the clan. But it was time for Douven to move on. He told Tyrr that when he was ready he would find his way in his life, but for now he should keep to the traditions of his clan and listen to his parents.
'How did you sneak up on me?' he squeeked while trying to control his voice.
'Ah, I am a teller and an observer, I did not sneak up on you, I was already here. But what of my question?' the man said. It was an older man, at least a lot older than Tyrr. He had a friendly smile and clothes that didn't quite match with far too much different colours. But they looked functional and warm enough.
'What question was that again?' Tyrr said looking confused but still holding the plaque.
The man laughed and pointed to the plaque. 'The thing you are holding there, do you know what it is?'
'This thing?' Tyrr held the plaque up towards the man again. 'It has some writing on it, but I wasn't sure yet if I was going to try and read it or just smash it with a big stick.'
'Well, smashing it would probably ruin my day, but I guess it's a finders keepers world.' The man sighed. 'But on the other hand if you could read it for me, you would make me happy. Something might be in it for you if you help me. Something more than the short rush of pleasure of smashing something that can't defend itself. You can read can't you?'
'Well, erhm, actually.. I don't even think there are more than two people in our village that can read. And I'm not sure about those two and they wouldn't teach me. But I think I recognise some of the words, but it makes my head hurt, so I don't know if I want to read it anyway. And reading is for fluffy mungools anyway, Pah!'
The man laughed again. 'Well my young friend. That plaque you are holding holds part of the history of these lands and maybe even some of it's future. I cannot make heads or tails of it, but I would love to hear your ideas about it. I can make the headaches disappear if you want, it would make it easier.'
Three years passed. Tyrr's powers grew stronger, but he didn't learn any new powers. He grew anxious for more and on his 20th day of birth he survived his rite of passage and became an adult. His choices from now on were his own. His parents already knew he was going to leave, they had somehow known for years. It wasn't in him to stay and do the clan thing, there were things out there that needed him. So he struck out to other lands. Through Damara he went to Impiltur and there he took a boat from Lyrabar to Yhaunn in Sembia. From there he travelled to Highmoon where he found his first traces of Teller Staun. There he found Douven's wife and she told him that Highmoon was his place for the last years. And from there he examined the Thunder Peaks for weeks on end. And he would always return safely. But now he left three months ago and hadn't returned yet, it had never been this long and she was immensly worried. So as Tyrr was already going after Douven anyway he promised her he would either bring Douven himself or word of him back to her. Tonight was the Feast of the Moon and Tyrr would enjoy himself there and start his search into the Peaks tomorrow.
This is where Tyrr's real adventure starts..
Tyrr is a 20 year old human. He has a bald head with a single topknot and looks a lot older than he is due to his accident at birth. He has always trained and is stronger than he looks. A pale face with white eyes gives people the impression he isn't quite healthy, which he isn't ofcourse. He is serious most of the time but enjoys a laugh as much as the next man.