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or "How the Brothers Danaveigh and Danawight saved their village, and later became the first kings of Ardenoth"

by Suleiman Russel

Once Upon a Time, long ago as men record such things, there was a small village in the midst of the great woods, which now surround the kingdoms of Ardenoth. In this village lived two brothers, named Danaveigh and Danawight, sons of the village woodcutter Danakarl. Their village was a small and isolated one, deep within the fastness of the great forest, and few travelers ever set foot within its confines.

One day, the sheep began to disappear from the fold, by ones and by twos. The cause of this great mystery turned out to be a great stone dragon - a mythic beast that could swim through stone as easily as a fish in water. Once discovered, the great beast turned its hunger upon the people of the village, and soon more than livestock were being lost.

Now, Danaveigh nor Danawight had any idea of how this was, because as woodcutters themselves, they spent much time in the forest chopping down trees with their father. As they were returning to the village with a cartload of firewood, their eyes fell upon the strangest of sights - for there, at a place where the road crossed over the river Drenn, was a tree such as they had never seen before. The bark of this tree was so dark as to seem black, and it's leaves were as red as flame - save for the leaves of one branch, which were all of silver. This tree quivered and moaned as if it were a thing alive, and cried out as if in great pain.

Danaveigh was overcome with greed at the sight of the silver leaves, which shined in the light like the fairest of jewels. But his brother Danawight was overcome with wonder at the sight of this thing, and forbade his brother from cutting it apart. Hailing the tree as if it were a traveler on the road, he asked it "What ails you, that you should cry out so?" Moaning, with a voice like the winter wind, the tree gasped out, "Someone has buried a sword in my roots, and the cold of it is killing me".

Wondering, Danawight dug at the roots of the tree, and surely enough, there was a sword, whose blade was rimed with frost, and whose hilt shone with many jewels. As Danawight gripped the thing, he heard it whisper to him "You hold the cold wind of the grave in your hands" as he pulled it from the roots of the tree.

As Danawight stood, holding the gleaming blue weapon, a red-haired dryad stepped out of the moaning tree. "Thank you, good lord, for removing that blade from my tree. So cold was the thing, it had frozen me into my house, and was slowly killing me there. Take this sword, for you will need it. Your village is in great peril." Saying that, the dryad wove a mist, and enshrouded all but the road, so that the brothers could bother her not again.

Later, as they traveled (for it was a long road through to forest, and slow going in those times) the brothers beheld another wonder - for a great blue Slaad in a suit of gleaming silver armor was crouching beneath a stone, trapped by a large flaming sword. The Slaad wept piteously to be freed, for this firebrand was left by a passing giant, who trapped the slaad out of spite.

Danaveigh, who had no fear of man nor beast, strode foreword to free the Slaad, and claimed the blade as his own. "Thank you," the Slaad croaked out, before leaping off into the forest, "But take care - your village is in danger enough already, for you to wield that without due consideration".

The next day, the brothers returned to their village, and learned of the perils their people faced. Cannily, neither brother spoke of the marvels they had found, nor of the new weapons to which they lay claim. Each brother in stead, sought to gain their people's adoration, by being the one to slay the great stone wyrm. That night, as the villagers huddled together and barred their doors, fearing for their own lives and wondering who would be next to die, the brothers argued as to who would be first to face the Wyrm.

"I am Eldest" declared Danaveigh, "And so I should go first".

"Go first if you want" assented Danawight at last. "If fire could destroy stone, our chimney would be made of wood. It is my blade, the sword of ice, which shall destroy the beast, as the midwinter frost cracks stone and shatters rock. Go first, for all I care, for it is I who will finish the deed." And so it was agreed.

The next day, Danaveigh went forth, using his woodcraft skills to read the ripples in the ground to learn where the beast made it's lair. That night, true to his brother's word, he returned - beaten. The sword of fire heated the monster until it glowed like a brand, yet still the monster did not die.

The next morning, Danawight strode forth, following the tracks of the beast as his brother had done before. That night, contrary to his boasts, he did not return victorious. Though the blade bit deep, and chilled the monster until frost rimed its hide, the monster did not fall. The great stone dragon was greater than either of them.

Beaten, bruised, and ashamed to show their faces in the village (for they had each unwisely boasted that they would save their people from the beast), the sons of Danakarl went back into the forest, to lick their wounds and try again.

That night, as the silver moon rose above them, they heard a song being howled by a nearby wolf:

Danawight and Danaveigh

Both did break and run away

Danaveigh and Danawight

Neither had the strength to fight

Enraged, the brothers ran after the mocking song, until they found a clearing in the woods, where a forest priest in black robes tended a cooking pot boiling merrily away over an open camp fire, and where a three-legged red wolf lolled it's tongue and seemed to laugh at them. The old priest welcomed them, and offered to break bread with the young men, who showed the many bruises of their recent battle with the beast. As they sat around the fire and ate a bowl of stew, the young men told the old priest of the trials their village faced, and how even the wondrous blades they had found were not enough.

Just then, as if in mockery of the boy's tale, the wolf got up and urinated on one of the stones ringing the camp fire. As the boys looked on, too shocked even to show their outrage, the stone hissed, and then shattered with a resounding crack. The wolf, lolling its tongue at the brothers, then loped away into the forest once again.

"There is the way of it" answered the priest. "Those stones have encircled this camping hearth for many seasons, and have withstood the fire of the hearth, and many winders of freezing cold as well. Yet even they must crack and crumble, when faced by both forces together." The old priest looked up at the brothers, and his wizened old face took on a grave countenance. "This is the way of it - it was your pride which caused your defeat. Not fire nor frost would ever destroy the great stone wyrm, yet together they two can do what one cannot. Fight as brothers should - shield to shield, and back to back. Support each other, and you support yourselves as well."

That morning, when the brothers awoke, they found the hearth was long empty, and no sign of the priest with whom they had spent the night - yet the one stone of the hearth circle was cracked, just as they had seen it done, and the words of the priest were fresh in both men's minds. Swearing an oath to never again let pride come between their own blood, the two brothers took up arms and again sought the lair of the beast, confident that this time they would be victorious.

This time, the brothers knew that it would take more than force of arms to slay the dragon, and so they set into motion a cunning plan. Finding a clearing some short way from the monster's lair, the brothers slaughtered several cows from the village and threw their corpses on the coals of a roasting pit, knowing that the beast had not eaten for several days because of it's fighting with them. As the meat roasted, they brought forth their mighty axes and hewed away at the trees and brush near the clearing, to create an empty circle which no fire could spread beyond.

Surely enough, the beast was drawn to the smell of roasting meat, and began to gorge itself on the unguarded carcasses. As the beast gorged, Danaveigh set fire to the bracken and brush, creating a ring of fire to fence the monster in. As his brother did this, Danawight called upon the powers of his sword of ice to freeze the ground hard, so that the monster could not create a burrow and get away.

Realizing it's danger too late, and too heavy to fly with it's wings of stone, the monster turned to fight the brothers. Already warming from the heat of the forest blaze, the monster soon glowed red from blow after blow of Danaveigh's flaming sword. Then, as it seemed that the monster had beaten Danaveigh, and was about to devour the helpless woodcutter's son, Danawight leapt forth with a mighty battle cry, and smote the creature squarely between the wings.

A screaming sound, like the squeal of an ice-flow breaking, issued from the glowing wound, and the monster reared up, it's swiftly-frozen wings shattering and falling away in great clumps. Away ran Danawight, leading the beast from the fallen form of his brother, and then stopped, blocked by the same ring of flame, which trapped the beast. He turned, facing the enraged wyrm, and squared his guard. The icy blue sword seemed to hum with a life of it's own, and as the monster opened wide it's ravening maw, Danawight knew what he had to do.

Uttering a battle cry that was heard that day in the village and beyond, Danawight leapt into the red-hot maw of the stone dragon, and smote the roof of the dragon's mouth. Where the sword of frost bit, a blue glow spread, and a hiss of steam was heard. The fiery heat of molten stone was quenched as swiftly as it had been caused, and with it the dragon's head shook, and shuddered, and was cracked into a thousand fragments. The beast began to thrash, headless, smiting in the mindless fury of something dead. Quickly, running on feet that were blistered from standing in the red-hot maw of the dragon, Danawight gathered up his brother and ran from the clearing, quenching the flames of the forest with a stroke of his ice-cold blade.

Limping to the banks of the river Dern, the brothers again met the old forest priest who had shown them the error of their pride. "Now you understand the true strength between you" said the old priest. "Not in might nor in wondrous arms, but in loyalty, and the bond of brotherhood. This strength can allow you to conquer any obstacle - even that which would otherwise be beyond you." With that, he tended their wounds, and applied salve to their burns. As night began to fall, the brothers began to plan for the future - they thought of making a hall from the bones of the dragon, and building a village around that hall. Hearing this, the priest smiled. "All this, and more, is yours if it be your destiny. But for that, you will need my gifts no longer".

It was then they realized that the old priest was not a man at all - though he had seemed one when they first met. As the priest let down his hood, the beautiful face of a woman, with hair as red as fire, smiled at them. "Go and build your hall" the stranger said "And build your kingdom around it. But use your own strengths - mine must be lent to a new purpose now". Shocked, the brothers realized who it was that they were talking to, and realized as well that their weapons were somehow in her hands. With a laugh, the trickster flew off in the shape of an owl, and swooped away into the cold light of the rising moon.

Danaveigh and Danawight, Sons of Danakarl, did indeed build their hall from the bones of the fallen beast, and that hall stands today. Though their kingdom lasted only a hundred years, and since has had many other names besides, still their legacy lives on, and even today, in the city of Dracomere, it is said that a man who stands by his brother can conquer any task.