Sharákin

Teréðor is believed to be the last continent to be inhabited by civilized races. The first civilized race to make Teréðor, a fact commonly contested by the Dwürden and Eylfāe, were the ancient Jȳar. The Jȳar have not walked the lands of Teréth End since the days of the Bloodlings but their marks upon the land remain to this day. A giant race from which all current Jotun are thought to descend, the Jȳar are believed to have been born from the mountains of Teréðor and walked the lands for many years. Stories vary on whether the great Sharak was one of the Jȳar, or a progenitor of the ancient race, out-living his progeny until the time of Sūlyel. Dwürden tales tell of how the Jȳar (Mountain-Lords) were once very numerous, but over time the weather wore them down until few of their numbers remained. Most Dwürden legends of the great giants originate from the telling of Gur-Undrü who reportedly sat with one of the last Jȳar and talked at length about the doom that had come to the race. It was explained in one telling of the hero’s tale that their dwindling numbers so maddened Sharak that he stomped all that he found. Because of this, Sūlyel’s defeating of Sharak was viewed by some Dwürden as the Great Healing, though others have attributed it to the beginning of the end for the Dwürden, who curiously have adopted the legacy of the Jȳar as their own.

Perhaps the most noticeable marks attributed to the Jȳar are the basins of the Gray Wastes and Tultaa Egn, the mountain throne of Sul-Tèreðor. Jȳar magics mentioned in Dwürden legends claim that the Jȳar raised the Fiery Isthmus land-bridge in an attempt to see the Jȳar king, for the giants could not step from the land lest they be dissolved by the sea. Other tales claim that it was customary to lower land-bridges after they were raised but that when the death of the last Jȳar king stripped the giants of this magic, the Fiery Isthmus remained. A similar land-bridge connecting to Lyrast is believed by the elder races to have been used by Yrūn to migrate to Teréðor in the very early days of their expansions but others find discrepancy with these time lines.

Tale of Gur-Undrü

The most detailed and possibly the only first hand account of the Jȳar is the Dwürden tale of Gur-Undrü. Because most of which is known is based upon this tale, it seems appropriate to reproduce a translation here. It is worth noting that this early Second Age accounting of the Jȳar and the other popular myths conflict on many points.

Two things are known of Gur-Undrü. The first item is that the following tale is attributed to him. It is said that he related the tale upon his return from an epic quest into the heart of Teréðor. The story has been re-told countless times among the Dwürden Fal and other Dwürden subraces. Although the story holds special meaning for the Dwürden Fal, it forms the foundation for much of Dwürden folklore, tradition, and law. The second item concerns Gur-Undrü’s life upon his return to known lands, but those stories are not shared away from Dwürden hearths.

Here then is included Gur-Undrü’s “Tale of the Jȳar”. The Tale of the Jȳar has been translated from Falwurd where the story is told in three parts. The first part is titled “The Birth of the Jȳar”. The second part is titled “The Trial of the Jȳar”. The third part is titled “The Death of the Jȳar”.

Jyrun-Thän Er’Urjyar (Birth of the Jȳar)

“Many months traveling brought Gur-Undrü, first son of Born-Undrü of the Fal-Surkur Clan, to the distant uncharted mountain that rose from the East Land (Teréðor) land-spine. He carried with him the shield of his father, dead long before the World’s Turn (crossing of Ages) with its bloodied boar head and its many awards (ancient Dwürden shields were appointed with pieces of their enemies); from the rim hung fifty and three fingers of both kin and invader, each with the signet of its family or liege. The helmet of Gur-Undrü sat heavy upon his gray head, his eyes circled by gold and silver, an aventail of Dwürden metal (steel?) hung across his neck and beard. In his hands he carried Rurdun-Undur, the hammer of his grandfather whose name is lost.

It is suspected that Born-Undrü was the nephew of the clanhead Kurn Fal-Surkur but that the surname was lost through Kurn’s second daughter Na-Am, it being ancient tradition that daughter’s did not carry the father’s name. A woman that kept her father’s name was thought to weaken the bloodline and ensure that sons born would inherit less of their fathers’ strength.

“In this way, Gur-Undrü and his servants followed the call to the remote mountain. When the summons grew great and his servants cowered fearfully among the trees and the stones of that place, Gur-Undrü strode forward into the hidden vale. At first, Gur-Undrü saw nothing but mountainside, but a Dwürden eye for stones and mountains are keen and soon the true form of his host took form in his eyes. There, seated among and above the ancient trees that bowed from its side, sat a [giant] of such great proportions that the Dwürden hero must turn his head left and right and upward to take in the full shape of his host, who was some great distance farther. The Jotun’s beard was a cascade of boulders grown gray and green with moss, and wet with waterfalls that foamed down its length. Two eyes like caverns stared darkly from above, and in their great distance Gur-Undrü could make out the shapes of great birds flying to and from nests built deep within them.

The Dwürden hero laid his hammer on the ground and his shield atop it.

This is an act of homage reserved for the audience of kings and lords within the Dwürden tradition. It is powerful symbol among that race that the guest has both honored his host and placed great trust in his host’s household to protect him as one would family during his stay. This tradition continues until the present among the Dwürden. This is the closest the Dwürden come to an act of suppliance. It can also be noted that when the Eylfāe bow, it is an insult that implies, “before you I am as lowly as the Dwürden”.

“Gur-Undrü asked then of his summoner, `Great one, you have called me from far lands to this sacred place but you have not told me the meaning of my journey. What further do you require of me, Great one?’ The [giant] did not move to speak but instead called upon the winds in the evergreens and the songs of the birds by the thousands that came to sit upon their swaying branches to unite in voice. It responded, `I am old and the last of my line that I have found in many ages. Once the winds sang with the sounds of our breath and the earth thundered with the great drumming of our feet. No more.’ The [son of the mountain] was saddened by the [giant]’s words, but more because he could feel its sadness through his [be-stoned] feet.

Korun-Farn is the painful Dwürden practice of collecting stones into the tender sole of one’s foot. Adulthood within many Dwürden kingdoms is defined by the time that Korun-Farn is complete. The stones of heroic and famous Dwürden serve as sacred reliquaries for ancestral shrines, weapons, and travelers’ pendants. These stones are distinguishable due to blood stains which cover one-half of each stone.

“`Why, Great one, has this come to pass? Why?’ asked the Dwürden, struggle as he did with word and thought while he drowned in the overpowering grief and despair. He gripped the earth tightly with his toes in the way that old Dwürden might render themselves immovable, fearing that the ground would yawn wide and swallow him. It responded, `Times pass and with each passing of the [Mother] above the land changes, stone crumbles, mountains fall. So too have we. So too shall yours. When all unravels and is lost, then we will be found anew. So has it gone in ages long before our memory. So does it happen now.’ Gur-Undrü was perplexed by these words. `Great one,’ said he, ‘we are told that the stone and the mountains are forever. What say you to these truths, Great one?’ His insolence was met with a great fluttering of birds exchanging perches and wind blowing without words through the mighty boughs. The great river of the [giant]’s beard poured mightily from the monster’s head and the earth shook beneath his [be-stoned] feet.

In the Dwürden tradition, the sun is maternal and the land is paternal.

“`Each rock in every stream,’ said the [giant] `once stood upon our shoulders. It is the slow but irresistible unraveling that wears us down. So too shall your people one day be brought low.’ Gur-Undrü waited as the vale took a deep breath and watched as the birds stirred and beat their wings to remain perched. `But that, is someone else’s story,’ it continued, `a story for another time. I have not called you here to tell you of your doom, I have called you here to tell you of those that came before, so that your people can know whose footsteps they cross.’

“`One day, the world awoke into darkness and was alone. In his dreams a light carved open the night and warmed him. He loved the light and she loved him and they were happy. Many days went by and the world’s skin grew dry and cracked beneath her heat but he would not let her go. He grew parched and sickly and watched as wounds opened across his body and was soon too weak to resist her pleading. He released the light and she moved far away. When the chill of the old night settled back upon the world he wept rivers and the rivers turned to seas. As he shuddered, great stones came loose and wandered the world. These stones that walked shored the lands against the raging seas so that not all would be lost beneath the floods. And when the time came for them to die, they would sit upon the land and return to it.’”

The idea that the mountains of Teréth End are the literal bodies of fallen Jȳar is not accepted by all Dwürden, even if the story is a familiar one. There are orders among the Dwürden (the Dwürden Fal specifically and also among followers of Wōd) that accept this as the truth, and refuse to dig and mine the mountains. Furthermore, the Dwürden Fal believe that they are descendants of Gur-Undrü.

“`The light felt pity on the land and came closer to warm him, but would never grow so near again. Instead the light offered a piece of herself to the land, which he stored deep within him. The return of the light brought more life to the world, and the [caretakers] saw to their survival. Many appeared and disappeared over the ages to come, and the walking stones cared for them all. This was the birth of the Jȳar.'”

Some Dwürden scholars that have studied these tales believe the Jȳar were not sentient creatures, but rather hand-servant manifestations of the land created to interact with nascent life and prepare the world for their coming. It has been suggested that the Jȳar “adoption” of the Dwürden was an inspiration for the Dwürden “adoption” of the Yrūn during the Third Age.

Dymör Er’Urjyar (Trial of the Jȳar)

“Gur-Undrü sat and waited for more, but the [giant] was finished that day, so he gathered his shield and hammer and returned to his servants. His servants had killed three large deer and many rabbits and prepared a large meal which they supped. In the morning, Gur-Undrü returned to the vale where the waterfall flowed less strongly than it did the day before. The trees that grew from [giant]’s body had a gray to them that betrayed weakness. When the winds blew through the mountains and the birds gathered on the boughs, even the [giant]’s collected voice was not as strong as it had been.

“`Great one,’ asked Gur-Undrü, `what is it that I can do for you, Great one?’ The boughs creaked and the birds chattered. `But listen,’ came the response `and allow me to serve my purpose.’ Then after much mustering of wind and gathering of birds, the [giant] continued his story. `The mountain ranges were not so large and long in those days. Our numbers were many. We walked across the world and built the lands so that they would not be overrun by the seas. We planted the trees of great forests and the grasses of wide plains. We constructed dens for the animals to sleep and caves to shield the new life from the animals and rain. Our numbers great and our duties unending we kept busy with the tasks of the [Father]. The responsibility to care for the children of the light was not small. We believed in those days that this caretaking was our task, our purpose and we strove to do it well. We did not know then that our true purpose had not yet been revealed. Soon, the truth of paradise would be made clear to us.’

“`I remember well the day the light went out. A shadow fell upon the world like in the days before our time. The land gave up its warmth. The trees grew brown and their leaves fell to the ground where the winds scooped them up and carried them away into the darkness. All that lived grew sickly with rot, and no food could be found. We stood and we watched as our wards died around us. We listened to their cries and their pleas, and we wondered why our [Father] let this happen. We wondered why the land did not cast the darkness away. We wondered why light did not return. For a long time we thought on these things. We thought on all of this for a time that was too long, for much passed in that Age that has never been seen again.’

“`It was in those darkest days that we gathered in the grey lands, where we had come together in the past to be alone with the [Father] and others of our kind, and there we discussed what must be done. The [meeting] was not like the meetings of the past, for the [Father] was not heard and his silence filled all of us with terrible foreboding.’

The urjyar meeting place likely refers to the Gray Wastes of northern Teréðor, a lifeless steppe believed to be the graveyard of the Old Dragul.

“`There were many among our numbers. Those that could remember when the world was bathed in fiery light and tasted the first winds to blow across the lands were the eldest among us. These gathered and discussed the dark doom and why it was that the [Father] would not speak at that place. After much thought and discussion some answers were found but the answers came slowly for the old ones spoke as mountains speak, and they could not be hastened. The younger [giant]s stirred and circled and listened to the rising weak cries from the caves and the dens of the world, and they wondered if this was the way it would end. Some of their voices joined with the cries, and that was a terrible sound to behold.’

“`Finally, after a very long time the old ones returned and explained what had come to pass and what must be done. They said, `In the beginning, before the [Father] awoke, there was night. In the end all will unravel into night again. All things that happen, happen in their due time. This is not the time for ending, but it draws near for the [caretakers] have not been vigilant. We are the first children of the [Father]. He gave us life so that he might live beyond his age through us, for no being is forever. It is the duty of children to assume the works of their parents when their parents grow old and weak. In the days before we walked, our [Father] awoke from the darkness and his waking has kept the night at bay. Now that he is frail with Ages, it is our duty to the same. This is what has come to pass.

““What must be done is not as easily understood. Though his voice is not strong, we have heard it through our feet. In his great age a cavity has grown deep within his body; a place that is not unlike the dens that we have made for small things. It is there that we must imprison the darkness, deep within the body of our [Father] so that he may hold the darkness until the end of his time, for though he is weakened he remains greater than all of us.

“`The [giant]s then acted upon the plan of their devising and marched in great numbers across the blighted land. Awakened by their great thundering footsteps, all of the land’s creatures crawled from their dens and caves to see the [giant]s marching through the lands. When they came to the secret place, they buried their great hands into the body of their [Father] and began tearing large pieces from his flesh. More and more gathered at that place and soon a giant hole was dug. For many days they could be seen climbing in and out of the great pit carrying boulders the size of hills on their shoulders as they clawed deeper and deeper into the land. The [giant]s that were not so old piled the stones in great mounds surrounding the place, for they would be needed again before it was completed. In time, the [giant]s that were not so old would wait hours and days for their elders to return from the depths of the hole, and then taking their burdens the old ones would return to the pit. During this time, the land’s inhabitants despaired for they thought the [caretakers] had grown fearful and were digging a den to hide from the darkness.’

“`Finally, when the last stone was removed and the cavity that had grown within the [Father] was revealed, every [giant] stared in awe at the wonderful light that shone from the hole. It was a marvellous fiery, golden light brighter than that which shone before the shadow settled on the lands. All those that looked upon it knew what they beheld. It was this light that the [Mother] had given the land as a promise that she would never again leave. It was all that remained of the days when the land and the light were together. It was this light that the weak [Father] had offered to the old ones during their talk in the grey lands, for not only is it the duty of the child to assume the work of one’s parents, but it is the duty of the parent to sacrifice all that he loves for his children.’

“`As they stood there watching the light that had been buried deep within the land so long ago, they did not watch alone. Above and around them the shadows swelled with hunger as the darkness also beheld the wonderful light that had escaped them. A great and icy wind stirred across the land as the shadows rushed into the pit to claim the last of the land’s light. When the darkness entered the cavity to consume the light the old ones climbed from the hole and the [giant]s that were not so old began handing them the boulders and the rocks from the many mounds that had been built there. With these stones the old ones filled the hole, sealing the darkness into the underground where it stirs to this day.’

“`When the hole was filled the [giant]s rested for they were weary from their great toil. As they rested, they looked to the sky where something new met their ancient gazes. Where once the darkness had filled the heavens, now stars shown down upon them. But their wonder did not end there for as they sat and watched the stars turn in the sky above, the heavens grew pale and then blue and their [Mother] rose once again bringing warmth and life to the land. From the dens and caves came forth every surviving creature that had been sheltered against the dark and for that day all things living celebrated as one for the [caretakers] had not failed and the test would be given to another generation.'”

Thorn Er’Urjyar (Death of the Jȳar)

It is known by scholars, Dwürden and otherwise, that there are three parts to the tale of Gur-Undrü. The titles of each part are also known. It is likewise known that non-Dwürden are not permitted to see or hear the third part of the tale. Indeed, few Dwürden are familiar with its contents. There is much speculation about the third part, fueled in no small part to the unfaltering vigilance with which it has been guarded over the ages. Fragments of the text have surfaced occasionally over the centuries, only to spur the Dwürden to war to recover or destroy the text and those that know of it. In this, the Dwürden have been efficient, until now.

Note: This text is made available for reader knowledge, but is not available to characters.

“Gur-Undrü marveled at the [giant]’s story. Gathering his shield and hammer he returned to his camp. After another large feast prepared by his servants, he removed himself from camp to be alone with his dreams. In the morning, he returned one last time to the hidden vale. At first, he wondered if the [giant] had left, for the valley was not the same as it had been in the days before. He stood and searched the mountainsides and soon found that his host remained, but was crumbling. Where a stand of trees had once stood upon the ridge of one shoulder, an avalanche had deposited the ancient firs into a tumble of splintered trunks. Where the waterfalls had once cascaded down mossy stones, there was now a chasm that yawned darkly from the [giant]’s heart. Despite this sad array of features, the winds once more rose in the trees and the birds answered their summons one last time.

“‘Great one,’ said Gur-Undrü, ‘it is with great despair that I see you in this twilight time. I beg of you, allow me to do you some favor, Great one.” In response, a soft wind blew but the only sound was the brushing of the boughs and the shifting of nervous birds. The [giant] was too weak to speak further. With great sadness, the Dwürden hero gathered his shield and hammer and prepared to leave. As he turned, another wind swelled within the valley and a raven landed clumsily on a nearby branch. ‘Go to him,’ said the bird. ‘He is weak. Climb into his heart and listen. His tale is nearly done.’

“Following the black bird, Gur-Undrü climbed the great mountain. As he walked among its trees the birds watched silently above. The deer, bears, and wildcats stepped from their places to watch him pass. The fish of the streams leapt high and the snakes and lizards crawled from their rocks to see Gur-Undrü. He saw all of the animals and beasts of the wilderness, but did not worry for his safety. Though his shield and hammer lay on the valley floor he knew the [giant] would protect him. The black bird landed above the chasm where the waterfall plummeted into darkness. Here the wind sang across the ragged maw. With the raven’s urging, he carefully climbed into the chasm until the entrance was a sliver of light far above him. Here within the bosom of the mountain he heard the voice once more.

“‘In the ages to follow, many of the [caretakers] thought heavily on the darkness imprisoned within the land. It could not be ignored. We could feel its movements in our feet as it clawed and screamed deep within the world. Never again would we know peace. Our wards however, seemed unaware of the darkness beneath them and soon forgot [Father]’s great sacrifice. It was decided that this way was better, for the fewer that heard its screams and lies, the fewer that might be tempted to answer its tireless call. In this time, we ushered many of the land’s creatures from their dens and caves and showed them how to build shelters above the land, for the dreams of those that remained underground were filled with dark things and many were drawn deep into the world and grew lost. Not all that heard the call were strong.’

Some believe that the bloodling Sharak may have been a young Jȳar who succumbed to the call of darkness.

“‘Those that remained part of the land were not so fortunate. The ages did not pass us, they wore us down. As time moved forward, fewer of our footsteps thundered through the lands and the gulf of years spread wide between our meetings. In time only a handful remained but we did not bother meeting, for each of us was tormented by the stirrings below and wanted only surcease from the sound. Each then that passed away did so alone and with hope that the darkness would not follow them. Finally, it has come to one. As I have promised, I have told you of those that came before you but now I must tell you of the next [caretakers], for we cannot leave this world unprotected.

“‘Each of [Father]’s creatures has purpose. With the imprisonment of the darkness, our purpose was done. At the last meeting of [giants] it was decided that we must entrust the land to another, a proposal that drew great concern and question from all that attended. Who among our wards it was asked, would take our place when our numbers fell. Second only to the defeat of darkness, this was our greatest task, for failing this all of our work would be undone. After much deliberation it was decided that the Dwürden would become the new [caretakers], for they alone were resistant to the call of the darkness. So it was decided that the last of our kind would offer this to your people. You offered favor and this is what I ask. It is the heaviest of any burden, but we would not chose to ask if your people were not the only ones that could accept. Accept this on behalf of your people. This is why I have called you to this place.’

“Gur-Undrü thought on this and answered the only way he could, the only way that any Dwürden could. He said, ‘Great one, I accept this responsibility on behalf of all Dwürden with all my heart and body, and swear upon the bones of my king, my clan, and ancestors that it shall be done. Until our shields and hammers fall and our halls grow quiet we will serve this great purpose. You have done us great honor in this choosing, we will not fail you, Great one.’

“The Dwürden hero climbed from the chasm and strode back down the mountainside. As he walked the animals came forward and bowed their heads in silence, thanking him and his kind for shouldering this great responsibility. When he reached his shield and hammer he turned to look again on the [giant], but could no longer discern its features from the valley’s walls.”