Back to Contests

The Tale of Harvarhall by Portius

Merit for January 2016

There are two ways that a man might win glory in this life. The first is
by doing praiseworthy deeds, and the second is by recording those deeds
with undying words. I choose the second.

Of whom shall I write if not the great lords of Harvarhall, who heaped
glory upon their names before they passed from the world? Who better to
praise than a line of lords who were kin by blood but rarely by birth?
Nobody at all.

Such is my task, to tell of the deeds that were done by those great
lords and in doing so to record the building and the fate of their great
hall. Harvarhall was its name in the tongues of men who had courage in
their hearts, but in the name of cowards it had no name save for
wordless lamentation and stark terror. I bid you hear the tale of
Harvarhall and the warriors who dwelled there that you might learn of
valor and glory.

----

 

Harvar came first, an heir to Orlachmar, a great wrecker of
mead-benches, a reaver, a raider, a scourge of the weak and a great
giver of rings. He made his own name, and though he had a father that
man has been forgotten by the world, just as all are who do not win
renown. He went through the world with a spear in his hand and with
stout comrades beside him, seizing gold from the weak and binding them
to himself as thralls. Nations were small in those days, and there were
no great princes that could bring him to heel. His fame grew with each
raid, and warriors flocked to his banner. Those who dwelled with deer in
the forest and those who lived by the sea cursed his name alike.

Such fame was not enough for Harvar, for he longed for a lasting legacy.
He resolved to build a hall that was worthy of his name, and so he chose
a tall peak in the mountains and claimed it as his own. He set his
thralls to work digging storerooms into the rock itself, but he wanted
something more powerful and more glorious for his walls and his hall. He
called his men together for a new raid.

 

The rushed down upon the tribes of the Seren with spears and shields in
their hands, and they put many of the savages to the sword. Thus they
roamed through the forest until they found a druid, a man that they
quickly placed in chains. They swore to make a blood eagle of him if he
did not lead them to the realm of the fae. Fear took the druid's heart
and he did as they bade him, and so their true raid began.

Harvar and his warriors ran through Faethorn like wildfire through
bramble. The battle was swift. The fae resisted, and they killed many
men, but they slew and were slain in short moments. Other fae were
placed in chains to serve as thralls, and Harvar's men seized a fortune
of wood from that ethereal place before they retreated from it. They
fought, they plundered, they ran. Such was their way.

Harvar set his fae to work building a hall from the bounty of Faethorn.
Fear compelled them to do as he commanded, and though they labored for
long hours it would take many years to complete his fortress, which he
would name Harvarhall in memory of his deeds.

----

Harvar lingered on that mountain for long years while the fae built his
hall, but he was not idle. Word of his hall spread quickly, and many of
his race came to court him. Beorhtwyn was the first to come to him, the
daughter of a great reaver and raider. She brought three vast chests of
gold with her as a wedding gift, and sought to claim Harvar as her
husband. He shunned her and sent her away, for he had no love of gold
save for that which he took with his own spear.

Cynegyth was the next to come to him. She had neither wealth nor glory
of her own, but she was a great beauty and so thought to tempt him into
yielding his own power to her. Harvar spoke with her for three days, and
many thought that she had won his heart, but he cast her aside and sent
her away from his rising hall. He knew that beauty was fleeting, and so
he had no love for her.

Theodhild went to him only after the others had failed. She did not rush
to his side, for she had business of her own to attend to. She lived by
her spear just as Harvar did, and she had won fame and fortune by means
of her own power. She did not come to him as a supplicant, but rather
came to his door and boasted of her own great deeds. Harvar responded in
kind, and so they boasted for a day and a night. Harvar then demanded
proof her words, and Theodhild demanded that Harvar prove his own power.

The two took up their weapons and they laid a cloak upon the ground.
Each gathered three shields and laid them to one side. They took their
places and fell into battle. Theodhild shattered Harvar's first shield
with a strong blow, and he returned the favor before he took up his
second. So it was in their second pass as well, and in their third. Soon
both were without shields, and both bled from the wounds that they had
taken. They dropped their weapons and embraced each other, and as their
blood mingled they swore that they were wed.

Their union bore swift fruit. A daughter came first, and she bore the
name Wulfrun. None could doubt her lineage, for she loved the spear and
shield more than she loved life. She was quick to laugh and quick to
fight. Twin sons followed her into the world, Cenhelm and Osgod. Cenhelm
grew to be a great lover of words and of verses, a man who sang of great
deeds even as he strove to do his own. Osgod was a true heir to Urlach,
who learned the bloody ways of sorcery. He was sound of mind and body
alike, but he had greater love for the forge than the battlefield. Thus
did the line of Harvar and Theodhild grow even as Harvarfall grew up
from the mountain.

----

Old age comes to all men, but it does not weaken their love of adventure
as it weakens their limbs. Harvar went raiding as soon as his children
could hold the hall on their own. Theodhild went with him, for she would
not allow her own glory to be eclipsed by her husband's. They had
intended to leave all of their children at Harvarhall, but Cenhelm
begged to join them that he might sing of their deeds, and the love of
glory forced them to allow it.

Thus Wulfrun and Osgod held sway over Harvarhall and the thralls as
their kin went forth to pillage the tribes of the Seren. Their raid was
to be their own undoing, for age had taken its toll against Harvar and
Theodhild, while Cenhelm was made weak by his own inexperience. A great
chief of those tribes, who was called Perengir by men and fae alike,
captured them on the field of battle, though it cost him many men.

He took Theodhild's head at once, for he believed that she alone of the
captives was too dangerous to be kept alive. He took Cenhelm and Harvar
to his own hall, and there he made a mockery of them before his men. He
dug a vast pit and he filled it with vipers. He plucked Harvar's eyes
from his head and cast them into a blazing fire. Then, laughing and
mocking his captives, he cast Harvar into the pit.

Harvar laughed even as the vipers filled his veins with their venom. He
laughed at the foes who feared him so greatly that they would let snakes
do their killing. He laughed to recall the deeds that he had done, and
the fate that he had brought down upon their sacred fae. He laughed to
mock those who thought that his death would bring them safety. His life
fled from his body, and his soul laughed as it returned to the Wheel.

Perengir then drew the body up from the pit and cut off the head, that
he might make a trophy of the skull. Only after that did he turn his
attention to Cenhelm, for whom he reserved a different cruelty. He
opened the boy's veins with little wounds, and bade him march back to
his father's hall to bring word of what had happened. Perengir bade him
march quickly, and wondered aloud if the boy could make the journey
quickly enough to have his wounds sewn shut before he perished.

Cenhelm was too slow. He made the journey to Harvarhall and he collapsed
before the gates. He sang a lament for his mother and his father, and
having finished his song, his voice and his life left him.

----

Osgod and Wulfrun resolved to seek revenge for their kin. They were the
lords of Harvarhall, and no lord could let such an insult stand. Wulfrun
readied their men for war, those few that remained to them, but Osgod
made ready in a different way. He had learned the ancient arts of
sorcery, the magic of blood and of death, and prepared to use them.

He went to the fae that they held in thrall and took from them a nymph
all of wood. He cut at her leg and pulled it away from her body until it
was barely attached, and then he spoke words of healing over her. He
worked in that manner until the healing had grown the leg to the length
of a spear's shaft, and then he cut it off. He then took another of the
thralls to his forge, a fae of flesh and bone, and he put the creature
to death.

He drew forth that fae creature's bones and he shaped them into the tip
of a spear and a great suit of chains. He bound the spear's head to the
shaft, and he annointed the entire panoply with blood. He spoke words of
power over them, and he plunged them into the forge. He drew them forth,
and all could feel the power that was inside them. Thus he armed his
sister for war.

He then turned his mind to the protection of the hall. He gathered all
of the fae together, and he prepared a great rite upon the walls of
Harvarhall. He bound a nymph to gatehouse and made of her a blood eagle,
and he as she died he took the heads of every one of their thralls. He
annointed the dying nymph with their blood, and by his will and his art
he bound her to the gates themselves. She screamed, and she fell silent.

It seemed then that a sort of madness came upon Osgod, for he reached
into that fae's corpse and pulled forth her bowels, though they were
little more than leaves and twigs. He looked upon them, and he cast them
to the wind, and he spoke words of prophecy. He cried that the nymph
would scream three more times, and each would welcome a great foe to the
gates of Harvarhall.

----

Wulfrun was then ready to make war and claim her revenge. She gathered
Osgod and their men together, and they began to harry the tribes of the
Serenwilde. They struck and then they fled, and they lured the tribesmen
into pursuit. Thus they led their foes all the way to Harvarhall, and
the orclach host made its way into the fort through secret means.

They stood upon the wall and mocked their foes, and the tribesmen could
hardly bear the insult. They made ready to storm Harvarhall, and the
nymph's carcass screamed as they came upon the gates. The blasphemy
filled their hearts with madness, and they began to climb the walls with
more passion than skill.

Few reached the tops, for the men of Harvarhall rained spears and stones
down upon them. Perengir was among those who made it over the walls, and
Wulfrun claimed the right to face him in combat.

It was hardly a contest, for she was yet young and strong, but still
seasoned by some experience. Her new arms were a great aid, for no blow
could harm her through her suit of chains, and her spear shattered her
foe's shield with ease. She pinned him to the ground with that spear,
and she let him feel his life leave his body as he bled out.

The battle was soon won. The men of Harvarhall plundered the carcasses
with pleasure, and they took the skulls of the dead as trophies.
Perengir's head received a special honor. Osgod took it into his forge
and covered it with gold that had been taken in raids against the
forest. Wulfrun then gave it a proud place above the mead-benches, and
all future lords of Harvarhall followed her example with the heads of
great foes.

----

Peace reigned for at time as Osgod and Wulfrun worked to rebuild their
forces. Lesser siblings might have come to blows for control of the
hall, but the two instead resolved to hold power together. Wulfrun
claimed the fealty of those who bore arms and primacy in war, while
Osgod claimed the fealty of the loremasters and sorcerers.

Harvarhall grew might during their reign, and many flocked to their
banner. Their raids brought in great fortunes of gold, not just from
plunder, but as tribute in return for protection. Neither ceased from
their work in improving their position, and so neither had time to
produce an heir. The two siblings came together in their old age to plan
for those who would come after.

They decided that each would be followed by an heir that was elected
from their vassals. The two heirs would rule as they had, as the masters
of war and of artifice. They likewise offered a code for their
followers, demanding honor and courage in battle, and demanding that all
those who would join them prove themselves in a raid. All who lived in
that hall swore to obey the code. Thus did they prepare for the future.

Age began to take its toll on them, and both suffered greatly from the
knowledge that they had become weak. They resolved to die together
rather than live in that reduced condition, and so Osgod and Wulfrun
retreated into the forge. There Osgod prepared two pieces of steel by
means of his arcane arts, and each took one piece in their hands.

They plunged their hands into the heart of the forge, and held the steel
their until their very lives burned away. Those who later came to
investigate found a great hammer and a strong sword in the fire. Those
who held the hammer could feel Osgod's power and wisdom inside it, and
those who gripped the sword could feel Wulfrun's strength and fury. They
took the two weapons as badges of office for their lords and for
heirlooms of the hall.

----

Many lords came after that pair, for Harvarhall stood unconquered for
centuries. Heibrek and Eodrick were the first to claim the lordhood, and
they brought great pains upon the forests. Hrathmund and Hrothmund
followed them, and they plundered the great halls of the dwarves for
their gold. Leifvin and Eorvin came after them, and then Osmund and
Telemond. Many more came and went over the years, and though they did
great deeds they never built an empire. But the heirs of Meridian did,
and those heirs soon grew tired of the raids from Harvarhall.

Cynebald was lord of the forge when they struck, just as his brother,
Glaedric, was the lord of war. The two had made their fortunes as
pirates, and they had carved out a bloody fame for themselves upon the
high sea. The lords of Celest sent out a force of paladins to put them
to the sword as soon as they learned the location of Harvarhall. They
marched on the hall in the dead of winter, when the defenders were
engaged in feasting rather than fighting.

The gate-nymph screamed as the paladins approached, and all at once
Harvarhall's fighters rushed to take up arms. The paladins stormed the
gate and cut their way through the walls with stout axes, but they were
opposed at every step of their way. They were not prepared for such
resistance, for they had though to take the defenders by surprise, but
they were knights of Celest and they refused to step back by so much as
an inch.

The battle favored the paladins, and they soon forced the defenders back
into the keep of Harvarhall. The paladins offered honorable surrender,
but the defenders rejected it to a man and swore to die defending their
home. That suited Celest's knights perfectly well, and they stormed the
keep without hesitation.

A fire broke out during the fighting, not by design of any soldier but
because a brazier was knocked down by chance. Men fought amidst the
flames, and the paladins once again took the upper hand. Cynebald swore
aloud that none would survive the battle, and his brother at once
understood his plan. Glaedric then bore the spear of Wulfrun not to
conquer, but simply to delay. Cynebald then rushed about the hall and
splintered its very foundations with firm hammer blows. Much of the roof
fell down around him, and in doing so it blocked the doors. Some died
from the falling timber, some from the fighting, and some from the
flames, but none among either the soldiers of Celest or the warriors
Harvarhall survived the day.

----

Harvarhall was nothing more than a ruin for years. The outer walls
remained strong, and a few little buildings around the keep still stood
tall. The rest was nothing more than charred wood and ash. Imperial
servants and savages alike shunned the place, for they thought that it
was cursed and haunted by the dead. The fortress became a ghost story,
and the ghost story became a myth.

Nearly a century passed before Harvarhall welcomed a new visitor. A pair
of lovers, scions of Shallach who the Emperor called outlaws, fled to
the hall that they knew only as a legend. They were running from the
justice of Celest, and so they hoped to seek refuge in a place where
their enemies would not pursue them. Their names were Enderos and
Inganna, and by luck and by fate, they found their way to Harvarhall.

The nymph upon the gate was silent as they entered the hall. Their foes
did not follow them, for they thought that any who entered were as good
as dead. The pair made their home in the ruins, they searched it for
relics of the past. In time they armed themselves in the manner of
Harvarhall's old lords, and then they looked for their revenge.

Enderos and Inganna would capure boats as the floated down rivers and
sack little villages for the paltry plunder that they offered. They used
that booty to find followers, but not bold warriors as the old lords had
done. They hired mercenaries and scoundrels. They led their ragged band
in larger raids, and sought for more men. From time to time they would
retreat to Harvarhall and wait for their prey to forget their wariness,
only to strike again.

----

An outlaw soon came to seek shelter with them, one who the Serenwilde
had condemned. Calgalad was his name, and the nymph screamed as he
approached. Alas that the old prophecy had been forgotten, and that
bonds of blood no longer held sway in Harvarhall! Enderos and Inganna
welcomed him into their service.

Thus the hall's final doom was prepared. Calgalad was an outlaw, but he
still had some love for his kin and sought to win their pardon. He
remained in Harvarhall for years and won the trust of all those who
dwelled there, but only as long as it took for him to learn all of the
secret ways into the fortress. He then led a raid of his own into the
Serenwilde, and he arranged to be captured.

He was a traitor once, for betraying his tribe. He was a traitor twice
for betraying Harvarhall. He told the savages all that they needed to
know to take the fortress by stealth. He led them to the spring from
which the fortress drew water, and they poisoned it. When the raiders of
Harvarhall fell ill, he led the tribesmen through secret passages and
into the fortress itself.

It was no battle. Even those few who were awake when their foes came
upon them were too weak to fight. Calgalad had his pardon, and the
defenders had death. Inganna and Enderos, who all knew were the leaders
of the outlaw band, were captured and bound. Their followers were
slaughtered.

The forestals resolved to destroy the fortress once and for all. They
tore down every wall and use the wood to build a great pyre on top of
the mountain. They took the nymph from the gate and buried it next to
that pyre, and then they laid Enderos and Inganna upon it in the manner
of a sacrifice.

They set the pyre alight and thus burned Harvarhall itself along with
its last lords. They scattered the ashes to the four winds. They raised
a cairn for the fallen nymph, and then they left that place for good.
From that day on it was nothing more than a mountain to those who lived
in the forest. Civilized men soon forgot the place, and it passed even
from legend. Harvarhall was dead.