valmar of the mountains
By Baker Street
On the higher ground, amidst the deep-blue valleys and gorges of the sapphire mountains, lived the men of high blood. The men of thunder and war. The men of blood and murder.
Amongst these was a man named Valmar who led a band of men against the high-chieftain and his clan. They waged war on his people, and ravaged his lands. They lay his kingdom to waste, although they were a small band of only twenty men. They rode out on the open plain as the tall grass was swept aside in the path of their horses.
When they came across serfs or kinsmen of the chieftain; they killed them where they found them. The land was a-wash with the blood of many, and the houses and fields were left a-fire. The smoke of the burning reached up to the sky, and sent out a signal to the chieftain in his refuge high on the hills.
It warned him of the impending danger, and that Valmar and his band were on the way to settle an old account. That meant death and murder for him, should he land in his enemies hands. He had his men prepare to defend the walls of his fortress, and he knew that he had about a hundred hands.
He looked again at the plumes of black smoke in the distance, down in the valley, and knew that his enemy was drawing closer. The time of reckoning was at hand…
The battle raged about the walls for an hour, as his men at first tried to repel the enemy with bows and arrows, but as the battle continued and the invaders made progress, it soon turned to hand-to-hand combat on the parapets and walls.
But Valmar and his band were strong warriors, and soon they overcame the last men and defences of the high-chieftain. They broke the door to the central tower where he hid, and Valmar himself strode up the steps with two of his men behind him.
They entered the room where they found the chieftain, and a battle of swords ensued between him and Valmar. The strokes were swift and powerful on both sides, and the chieftain slashed a stroke across Valmar’s chest with his sword, leaving a large cut that bled badly. At the same instant Valmar drove his sword home to the hilt into the chieftain’s bosom. The man gave a deep gasp of pain, and lay on the floor bleeding to death. He died quickly.
From an adjoining room a beautiful young woman came, and she and Valmar walked down the spiralling stairs of the tower, hand-in-arm. She was lovely to behold, with long dark hair and dark eyes. Her steps were light and firm as she walked down the stairs with her knew man. Valmar’s two men followed close behind.
In the courtyard the woman was mounted on a young mare, as Valmar climbed onto his own black stallion beside her. They rode out onto the open plain, back home, as his men set fire to the chieftain’s castle.
The black plumes of smoke rose to the heavens with fingers of fire giving thanks to vengeance…