Copy Link
Add to Bookmark
Report
Scrolls of Serenia Issue 1
====( Scrolls of Serenia : The First Issue )==============================
a&$$$$$$&a. Scrolls of Serenia ... An Ongoing Anthology
$$$$'^`"$$$ a&$^$&a .a&$$$$$$$$$&a. .a&$$$$$a. .a&$$$a.
$$$$. """ !$$$ $$$! `"$$$$$' a&$^$&a `$$$$$!$$$$$a. `$$$$$'.a&$$$$$$$&a
`$$$$$$$$$a.$$$$ $$$' `$$$$ !$$$ $$$! `$$$$$" "$$$$! `$$$$ $$$$"'`$$$$$!
.aa $$$'$$$$^"" , ,$$$$ $$$$ $$$' $$$$' $$$$$' $$$$' a&$$$^$$$$$$
`$$$$$$$$$' `$$$ $$$!.a&$$$' $$$$^"" , $$$$' $$$$$' $$$$' !$$$$$ $$$$$$
`^^^^^^' `$$$!$$$!.a$$$' .a$$$$'.a$$$' `$$$$$ $$$$$'
====( Editorial by Warlock )==============================================
Whelp, here it is, what MARCH?!? Hmph. Well, even though I said
Serenia #1 would be out by mid-Feb, this is close enough. The main
problem concearning the delay has been my failure to find writers.
Yes, it sucks, but this is _MY_ first `zine as an editor, even
though I have written shorts and poems for Belial from Klunk a
couple of times, as I have done some ascii's and courier-ing and
the like as well.
Just to let all of you in on a little secret, this is _completely_
made up of stories from a common reality, and if you find your-
self thinking of ways to make SoS a better `zine, or if you would
like to submit writing, (even to become a full-time writer) any and
all are encouraged.
Enough outta me, get to tha damn zine...
====( creation.part.one )===================================================
::A reading from the book of Tlk::
ùùùùù
There was nothing. Not Earth, not sky, nor space. Not even was
there void, it was and can only be described as nothing. The
nothing was infinite in all directions and angles, yet somewhere
unknowest to _all_ in this nothing dwelt something. Something,
someone, which was the only someone/thing in the nothing.
This something, someone, at no time and no-where, created that
which is the reality, and this someone has been called Lln in
and throughout the Serenia. She is not _the_ Maker, but she who
has set great things in motion and the forth-bringer of those
who are the makers.
The Makers are those who brought-forth the Earth, the Great
Wonders and are the weavers of the many realities which shape
all life in and without Llnrion which, on Earth is now Serenia.
Llnrion, now Serenia, is all that is, all that was made by the
Makers.
The Makers are Geldrion, weaver of the Realities and wielder of
the Balance; Llrren, daughter of Lln and molder of all that is
filled with light; Jor, master of time and space, who exists at
all times and all places simultaneously; Tlk, the new father
of this Earth and protecter of our reality, and last Neim,
former father of Earth.
After the creation of the makers, Geldrion turned and faced the
nothing, and, with Llrren, and Jor thus was weeved reality and
the protecters, who, for Earth and life there was Neim.
Neim looked down upon the thriving and living Earth, and he was
filled with envy for he too wished to live in grandeur as a king
among these beings, and thus he descended from the heavens to
rule all as master.
Geldrion, preoccupied throughout Llnrion with other matters,
failed to stop Neim in his mad conquest. Yet when he returned
to the heavens, he was filled with rage over Neim's descent. And
when he himself began a descent after him, he found that Neim
had barred all entry to Earth and none could enter. Neim had
left only the paths of eyes open to the Makers, so that his
conquest should be adorned and taken as a spit in the face.
Geldrion also found that he could only affect the world of Earth
through others, and by helping the worldly beings that dwelt
there.
And thus Geldrion sent down a cheurgion to seek out a wielder,
one worthy enough to recieve the power of the makers so that
Neim would be banished, destroyed if need be, and sent from
Earth for all time.
-Part II and the Conclusion in SoS #2-
====( natural wonders.part.one )============================================
Somehow, may it have been through a dream, I found myself stand-
ing before a small farmhouse in a place not at all familiar to
myself. From inside I hear a voice. A voice of an old man beckon-
ing me inside. I enter only to see the source of the beckoning,
a man not old to the point of decrepintcy, but old seemingly to
only the lightening of his hair.
The old man sat in an old chair next to a bed, and their seemed
to be no striking details about the farmhouse. A small table next
to the doorway I had entered, a wood-stove near the far wall, the
house was adequate for living, if you cared to live here. The old
man motioned to me to come and sit at a chair that faced him. I
did so, as if I had known the man, and he, in turn, seemed to
genuinely know me. At the time it failed to occur odd to me, and
without thinking, I heard myself wisper, "Who are you?"
And with those three meager words I muttered may have gotten me
an answer I hadn't been prepared to listen to in one, even two
sittings. Never before had I heard a man of ANY age talk start to
finish this long without getting interrupted by a drunk and
thrown out of a bar along with him.
"Now I am a man, mortal and all, but there was a time when I was
not. I live in a small farmhouse built amidst long, rolling hills
just north of a great forest, far south and away from the nearest
town. Everyday I wake and I walk out to the nearest hill, that
one, just outside the window, and I look out in all directions,
contemplating this thing mortals like to call "life". Me, myself,
I have the grasp of it like that of a bad theif's grasp on rings.
Before I was forced into this ... this "disposition" as you might
call it, the amount of times I contemplated the value of life at
all, in any respect could be counted easily on one hand with fin-
gers missing. Hmm, but that is a different story in it's own
right, and since you seem new to this land, it would only seem
proper to show a brief introduction as would be the case, as to
where you are, and what this place is.
"First off, let me be the first to welcome you to the wonder
that is Serenia. Although most others would call it a World,
although it is, in fact, much larger and substantial in magnitude
than that of only this world that you and I are sitting on.
"But I tho..." I attempted to speak. The old man refused to be
interrupted...
"No no, Serenia is a myraid of realities and a carefully strowen
fabric of universes that are held in a perfect balance between
chaos and order." The old man's eyes begin to drift off as he sit,
mouth wide-gaped, as if he struggled silently with himself to
retrieve some distant and yet shockingly fresh memory of a long-
past event.
And then, as if still staring into that memory, he said, "If life
ended now, never would there be such a sight as that of a struggle
between the two lords of chaos and order. Lights of heaven, nature
and tranquility clashed against that of hell, fire and anarchy.
Entire worlds and realities submitted before them as battlefields,
left as barren wastelands stripped of all identity. It is a sight
not intended for mortals, and it is surely a sight I shall never
forget..." And with that the old man passed into a deep and loud
sleep. Reaching over to a pillow on the old man's bed, I placed it
behind his head.
It seemed as though I had heard stories like this before, and now
more than when I first arrived in this "dream" I seemed more
familiar with the old man. Possibly, it occurred to me, that this
is like that of a dream you don't remember until something happens
and the dream finally clicks in your head. And possibly, very quite
possibly, I have been drinking too much ale lately. Yet this dream
seemed quite possibly TOO real to push to the side like a leftover
barrel of ale.
Coming back to realization that this dream might end at any moment,
and that the old man who had invited me into his home had passed out
after straining his mental strength, I decided the most proper place
to finish this dream would be, in all likelyhood, where I began. Yet
as I leaned out of the squeaky chair, the old man sniffled and
snorted in subconscious protest. Then, as I stepped out through the
doorway through which I entered, the old man half-awoke and turned
just his head toward me and said in a low, hushed voice, "in that
drawer, take the book." As he said this he motioned toward the small
table that sat crouched in a shadow near the doorway, and then he
sniffled and snorted once more, falling back into a loud slumber.
I looked at the table, and slowly opened the drawer and retrieved
the book. It had a strange insignia on the cover, and I payed little
attention to it. The book was old, but somehow kept in reasonably
good condition.
Once I was outside, and nothing immediately happened, I sat in the
shade of a nearby hill, the one which I recall had been a favorite
of the old man's, and I opened the book. It seemed to be a book of
spells. `Spells?' I thought. Hmm, curious... And thus I began look-
ing though the curious book until I came to a page that caught his
eye, for what reason he did not know. It seemed as the others did,
without titles on the top, only the reader could guess by the words
what the spell might do.
Soon enough I found myself attempting to cast this spell. I usually
relied on sure things when it came time to fight and whatnot, things
that require physical mechanics. Hardly ever on that of magic. I've
seen to many a mage killed in street duels when a spell he cast had
not come to him and the other destroyed him for his folly. Yet still
I found myself following the instructions and chanting the spell...
::From the book::
I raise a palm to the Mother,
grant me distance to the other,
no great Mother take no disgrace,
take me ere another place!
And with that, I fealt a sharp pain in my hand, and a drop of blood
fell to the page. The page absorbed the blood, and with a loud, yet
dull buzzing noise, all of reality around me spun and rocked slowly
back and forth, blurring all of the world around me. Shortly after
it began, I passed out and awoke with a throbbing headache.
As I woke, the buzzing had just died away, and I shot up, eyes wide
open, scanning back and forth coming to a slow realization of my
surroundings. I was back at the bar! It would seem that the entire
ordeal with the old man was, in actuality, a dream. Comfortable with
the conclusion I had come to, I laid my head back down on the book
and began to drift off into a somewhat-uneasy sleep when I realized
what my head was resting on. Damn. Somehow, in the back of my head,
I knew that, for once, I would not be getting out of another wierd
event by blaming it on the ale, and what I was to do with this book,
I did not know.
Before I passed out for the last time that day, I remember noticing
an odd emblem on the darkened cloth which was like two bent flames
flames behind a gold "T". I made a fleeting attempt to note that for
when I woke but at this stage in my subdual, I could highly doubt
iiiiiittt......
-Continued next issue-
====( Reyhan.chapter.one )==================================================
____ --+> OnE è pArt I <+--
_/ \_
| %% |
| |
|__||__|s I stare into the depths of the night, I think back on the
lives I've lived and how I started. Certain thoughts bring joy
and an occasional smile, while others I look back on as mistakes
though they have made me what I am and I am thankful for that
atleast. I have regrets, many of them, and although I can't say
that I have lived a prosperous nor glorious life, I can say that
it has been long. Too long, in fact, because of a large favor I
had done for a certain planeswalker who had proclaimed himself
"The Enchanter".
Ah, but I haven't introduced myself, now have I? I am Reyhan.
Known by many names, assasin, warrior, defiler, savior, yet
always Reyhan. Currently of the Liik Clan, if it still exists,
formally of the scholars of the Ebon Tower, the Haven of Lark's
Warrior's, and many large secret assasins and theives groups.
For all I know, these groups have ceased to exist, and I have
tried to stay away of this life. I have learned many things, and
somehow remember all of my teachings.
Now, this "Enchanter" as he chose to call himself, let me
explain how I came to save him and destroy my mortality...
First let me make this clear... Mages duels were the rarest of
sights, and in all of my hundred years of existence on this
plane, I had failed but once to see one. A great sight, given
you keep your distance from the fray.
Even though I helped this "Enchanter", I hadn't initially meant
to. I had been told through a contact of mine and given a
detailed description of someone I was to follow and, given the
chance, eliminate. Kasimir, A somewhat large man, not fast nor
agile in any sense, yet somehow dangerous. I was young at the
time, eager and stuborn. I found this man staying at a fairly
large inn in the military stronghold of Sheolton, of all the
godforsaken places. Even the slightest hint of danger caused
in this place and a man could find himself below the sharp side
of a royal guard's scimitar.
It was difficult making my way into the city, easy enough
finding my way around until I found this Kasimir. I found him
engaging an ale alone in a local tavern. Hm, he seemed smart
enough not to make a big deal of his presence, especially here.
He took little or no notice of myself as I entered the tavern
and proceded to the bar.
After years of experience in hunting, I found it easy to
seemingly ignore Kasimir while I settled in with my ale. I had
to be ready when he left, this was a big city, and it might cost
me another two or so hours to find this man should I lose sight
of him. I had noticed previously that due to Kasimir's over-
weightedness, his chair squeeled whenever he got up to adjust
his seat. I was depending on this to warn me when he left.
Because of this damn city, however, I couldn't merely snap his
neck, because I'd probably lose my head only a few hours
afterwards. I loved the skill I held for hand-to-hand combat...
Less than an hour later, Kasimir sqeezed out of his chair and
stood up onto his two exhausted legs. I stayed hunched over my
ale, and once the fat man departed, I slowly hobbled out the
door after. Kasimir, who now seemed to me like more of a sweaty
pig than just a fat man, had been carrying a large bag that
seemed to be carrying clothes and the like. He made his way
through the collections of peoples and market stands until he
reached the gates.
It was then that it occured to me that Kasimir's leaving Sheolton,
along with my finding him so easily, had been two major conveniences
that I stumbled on throughout this hunt and I wondered that
maybe I was being set up. I soon abandoned this thought after I
nearly forgot about following Kasimir out into the forest.
________
|__ __| --+> OnE è pArt II <+--
__| |__
|______| continued after the pig I had grown to hate. He had left
Sheolton and headed south. It quickly became obvious that
Kasimir was heading to Andrion, because the winter was falling
early and unfortunately soon, and the winters here in Sheolton
were harsh and hard to travel through. Kasimir had most likely
planned only to make this short trip to Andrion and be done with
whatever business he had arranged. Hmph, it would seem his
associates in Andrion might be left waiting a long while.
The farther from Sheolton I followed Kasimir, the farther I drew
back and began to hide. Darkness began to fall over the forest,
and Kasimir ended his travel for the day. He began to set up
camp in a small clearing, and I found my way into the top of a
nearby tree.
Throughout all of my killing and hunting years previous to this,
I had somehow learned, more as grown, the ability to sleep and
maneuver my way through the canopies of trees. This became
clockwork in my work, as it was for all who enjoyed the skillful
position of a hunter.
I had been watching Kasimir and studying his ways throughout the
entirety of this trip, and not even twice had I thought of why
he might have been considered so dangerous. Then, as I sat up in
the top of this tree watching him waddle around gathering small
sticks and the like for his fire, I noticed as his coat opened,
a satchel. It wasn't any normal travelers' satchel, either. To
tell you the truth, until then and the events that followed
after, I hadn't realized what he used the satchel for.
Once Kasimir had finished his gathering of firewood, he stood
himself several paces from the base of the stick gathering and
spread his arms wide and, for that moment, time stood still and
all was quiet. Then the fat man reached with his left hand down
into his satchel and then pulled it out, something clutched in it.
Kasimir extended his clutching hand toward the gathering of
sticks and wispered some words, and in short moments a spark
caught the sticks, which escalated into a fire.
Realize that I had been sitting up in this tree on the edge of
the clearing, watching intently, and wondering what the hell he
was doing. As I said before, these displays of magic were so
very rare that I, even at the age of twenty-two years, which
had fought and lived through too many battles to count, had
never seen one.
I was amazed, to say the least. I wonder still how I maintained
my balance in this tree, because although I was in the tree, my
mouth had surely hit the ground.
The events that followed came and went as a blur, occurring
almost within seconds, and yet I acted as I never had before. It
had quickly become a tight situation in which I found myself
almost dead, and then living like I had never felt life
before...
______
/ \ --+> OnE è pArt III <+--
| %% |
| |
\______/n a normally quiet and peaceful night in the Grayland
Forest, I began to notice a slight, no make that immense change
in the weather. First came the winds, which after several minutes
of shaking the trees (including the one I was resting in, thus
waking me from a short-lived dream) almost made me lose my
balance. Next, and more importantly, came the clouds and thunder.
This was the curious part, because throughout all my previous
years of traveling through this forest and the surrounding areas
of Grayland, Sheolton and Andrion, it was well known that the
weather was never all that unpredictable. After the clouds and
thunder came the lightning. No rain, no sticky air, just
lightning. It struck only random areas in the clearing, and it
boomed loudly every time, fully waking both Kasimir and myself.
My eyes first fixed on Kasimir as he startled back to reality,
looking frantically for his satchel and then clutching it, acting
as if he knew what was coming next. He looked straight up into
the clouds, shivering in the warm winds like a scared child.
Following his train of sight, I then fixed my eyes on the sight
that Kasimir was so intent on learning the purpose of. The clouds
were parting, and a ball of light descended down through them.
This is where things became a blur, and a whole entire reality
became shockingly real...
-Find out what happens next issue-
====( Waddayoo want on yer toombs-tone? - Last words )======================
Whelp, that was issue number one. I can't really say that there'll
be another issue next week, month, or even year. I don't know how
other people'll take SoS, hate it/like it, who knows. I don't even
know how long I can keep up all this writing and self-support. I
know this first issue was kinda slow, but just bear with me here
folks, my first zine, and all the intro's are gonna be slow. The
action starts next issue (as long as there is one). If you liked
this first release of SoS, tell _sombody_, or email somebody who
knows me. I don't currently have an inet email address because it
got shut off, but find a way to email my friend Belial, or reach
me on Avalon [9o8.739.4274] : Warlock...
Much thanks out to Belial (whose ideas started this entire thing)...
"Those who think they know it all are especially annoying to
those of us who do..."
-Anonymous-
================================( eof )=====================================
