Nothing is known for certain about the Outlands. They are vague and mysterious and often thought to be little more than children's stories. We have only a few myths of the supposed lands beyond the edges of the Known World. There are several versions of each story as they are changed by culture and country. The first is the Tale of Giants. There are several diviations of the tale but there are only two stories that are told throughout the land. That of the tale from Carthan is popular in the southern Ulutain and Gao, that of the tale from Terra is popular in Kostroma, Semhar and the once great Nyston. The variations are suttle so they are not written down here. For example the Gaoin translation of the story shows the Faery Queen loving the color purple and having wings that are of gossomer silver mist. The translations from Kostroma discuss how giants were creatures to admire for they also beat their wives, and killed their second born sons. With these differences aside the stories remain the same within their region.
Myths about the Land of Giants:
Once upon a time in the far North, where the Vampires now hunt and sleep, there was a race known to the people of the world as Sky.
This race was known for its height. They could warm their hands by the sun and wash their feet in the Gormal. It was in one village in the Up North that a child was born to the Sky King. This child was smaller than the rest, perhaps today he would only tower a few feet above your head, instead of reaching up and collecting the stars as his father’s before him did. Despite his size, the child was loved, loved throughout the Sky empire for the High King now had an heir.
Hundreds of the race came from across the known realm to bestow gifts upon the child, but there was one woman among them with a dark purpose. She was not of the Sky folk, but rather an unknowable blackness. She wished ill upon the peaceful creatures of the North so in her hatred she stole the child away. It was the abduction of the child that sent the world into war.
The Sky lifted its hands and thrashed the people of the world; many came to hate the once great King, who now instead of love was filled with loathing. He once protected the world, now he destroyed it. Such was the love for his child. As the cities burned and the people cried the child’s mother snuck from her husband’s castle.
She was not of the Sky but of the Mist. She was little and lithe and had the face of a star itself. Her people are long gone now, but then they were a booming city, and the only culture to be unharmed because their Queen was the Sky Queen as well. She had implored her husband not to hurt those of the world, for it had not been the people who had taken their child, but he would not listen. Sky listens to no one; it roils up its storms and wreaks havoc on the weak and strong without mercy or prejudice.
Titania was Queen of the Faery, so she returned with a heavy heart to her castle in the Mist. It was there with her wise teachers did she discover who it was that had taken her child and she set out through the countries at war to find him and bring him back to his father and end the war.
Three days and three nights she rode the winds looking for the darkest forest in the most western land, and on the third night she spied from her lofty view a fire. This must be where the witch had taken the child; this must be where she’d find her baby and with all her power win him back. The wind set her down just outside of the tree ring where the fire burned and the baby cried. It vowed to wait for her and carry her and the child home. Titania thanked the wind and moved into the firelight.
There was her child, crying and uncovered, with hair torn from his brow cooking in a pot over the fire. Blood ran down the baby’s face and the little Faery Queen all but screamed when she saw his state, but knowing the evil that she was to face she kept her calm, kept her cool and went for the child.
As her hands touched the boy his crying stopped and his temper waned. He knew his mother’s touch and was quiet, waiting for her to save him, but then from behind her came the witch.
Such a witch has never been nor will ever be again. And it is whispered still on the wind that she lurks in the dark to steal young children from their beds. She has the power to change her shape and her looks; she can be beautiful and horrible.
The witch raised her arms and laughed at the Faery mother, cursing her in a tongue to old for the world and the Queen dropped on the stop, paralyzed with fear. This witch new the darkness like no other creature before, not even Vampires dare speak in such a tune. Titania covered her ears and cried out for her child’s salvation in a voice that sounded like trees in the wind, for even if evil is evil the Mist is much older and knows the forests better than the trees.
The witch hadn’t expected such a turn of events and as the trees up rooted themselves at the behest of the small Queen the witch ran and was chased, never to be seen again in this world.
The Faery Queen thanked the trees, who bowed low to one that knew their voice, for those who can speak with the Forest are rare. Then the wind came and swept of the baby and mother and took them back to the Sky castle but when they reached it, all of the race, including the King were gone. In their place stood vast mountains as far as the eye could see; it was then that Titania realized the witches’ evil words, while time for her had stopped in that thicket time outside had not and the Sky had warred for hundreds of years, killing and pillaging in anger and sadness until they wore themselves out and returned to the earth.
Sadness in her heart the Faery new that it would be only a matter of time before that darkness found her as well, for she was tied to the Sky race. She would have to part with her child to save him. So she found a good caring human couple and left her only child to them.
To this day you can still hear her sad lullabies in the trees, if you listen. And when the Sky is cloudy and it is about to storm you can hear the anger of the Sky King, ever seeking his revenge.
-- Kalimsheri Version of the Giant Fable.
It was in the darkness that he rode his horse through the southern plains of what now has become the sister cities. It was Uther Cannon, fourth born son of the High King in Carthan that set out with curiosity in his heart and a sword at his side. He was a powerful man with eyes the color of the setting sun, his blonde hair swayed out behind him and his jaw set as he came to the Great Telan.
In those days the river was never crossed never forded for there was nothing yet made on the opposite side. The other side was that of the Land of Giants. There was a war spewing out over the world at this time, many countries had been slaughtered and many more were slated to do so, but Uther wasn’t afraid, his father had begged him to remain in the warmth of Kalimshere but he could not. It wasn’t peace and comfort Uther wanted, it was adventure, it was life.
His horse reared up with a cry as thunder clashed overhead. He calmed the beast with his soothing voice and dropped himself to the ground to stand instead. It was all he could do to contain his surprise and his glee. For standing before them larger than life was none other the Mighty Giant King.
Thoran Dwarack was the mighty King’s name and he sized Uther up with little finger and laughed at the man’s size. For men, to mountains, are nothing but dust. The King enquired of Uther from whence he came and when he would return. Replied the Great Uther he would stay where he was until he learned of the Giant’s ways.
This surprised the King and his own curiosity brought him to sit and listen to the young man’s say. It turned out that Uther, fourth in the line of thrown, wanted nothing to do with the warm fisher man’s life on the coast. There was no adventure, no gain, no glory. But in this far north there would be that and more.
The King shook his head and told the boy that there was nothing but darkness so far in the Up that never a human would live long enough to enjoy it. But Uther disagreed. He promised that he would learn the ways of the Giant, become his student and errand boy. That he would belittle himself from the status of King just to learn the ways of the great Mountain King.
Well this flattered the High King but he shook his head and gestured out behind him to the mountains in the distance. They were all his brothers he said, that had given up and gone back to the earth. His time was coming to an end for he’d wreaked too much havoc on the earth over the loss of his close friend.
Uther understood, and regretted it too, but sided with the Giant when it came to revenge; if someone so close to him had been hurt there would have been more bloodshed than there was now. The Giant smiled at such a thought, to finally be understood in the small eyes of a man, gave him peace and because of that understanding the King stood up and roared in his tongue to the others about and soon there were four Giants all gathered around and they took their tough hands and brought the mountains down.
It is said that the Giants were the best stone masons around and none to this day could shape stone like they could. Because of their size it was easy enough the grabbed hold of the nearest mountain and crushed it until it was soft and pliable then with their hands they made a great bridge across the Telan. And they weren’t finished there, for they fashioned also the wall that rings around Asfeld and Denosgrad to this day and the tallest turret in the castle that looks out over the cliffs was placed there by the Great King himself and he looked down at Uther who stood in shock and told him that he would need all these things once they were all gone.
There is darkness in the north, where Vampires play, where things darker than vampire hunt and once the Giants were gone all those dark things would hunt further south and devour all that stood in their way but none would get past that wall. Thoran Dwarack watched his brothers crawl into their sleep, creating the boarders to the east and with a nod he bayed fair thee well to Uther, new King of the realm, and all that he said was, “take care of it all.” With that be bowed his head and fell into the earth asleep and became the great mountains that boarder the north.
Uther soon gathered the settlers out in the Fringe and brought them into the city that the Giants had made and soon more and more joined him, because they’d found Ore and swords were made to battle the Dark. To this day we ride North to fight back that night for it was long ago that we were given the task and not one of us will let that might King down. Thoran Dwarack trusted us and gave Uther his crown.
So let it be remembered, those great powerful creatures of the North, the Giants, the Sky, the Mountains, the Thunder. They were a strong and powerful race and it was they that created our city, gave us our King. It is a good omen to hear them and to see their children that now walk the Earth. Let it say in our histories: The people of the Mountains bring change.
--Terran Version of the Giant Epic
Myths about the Land of Giants:
Once upon a time in the far North, where the Vampires now hunt and sleep, there was a race known to the people of the world as Sky.
This race was known for its height. They could warm their hands by the sun and wash their feet in the Gormal. It was in one village in the Up North that a child was born to the Sky King. This child was smaller than the rest, perhaps today he would only tower a few feet above your head, instead of reaching up and collecting the stars as his father’s before him did. Despite his size, the child was loved, loved throughout the Sky empire for the High King now had an heir.
Hundreds of the race came from across the known realm to bestow gifts upon the child, but there was one woman among them with a dark purpose. She was not of the Sky folk, but rather an unknowable blackness. She wished ill upon the peaceful creatures of the North so in her hatred she stole the child away. It was the abduction of the child that sent the world into war.
The Sky lifted its hands and thrashed the people of the world; many came to hate the once great King, who now instead of love was filled with loathing. He once protected the world, now he destroyed it. Such was the love for his child. As the cities burned and the people cried the child’s mother snuck from her husband’s castle.
She was not of the Sky but of the Mist. She was little and lithe and had the face of a star itself. Her people are long gone now, but then they were a booming city, and the only culture to be unharmed because their Queen was the Sky Queen as well. She had implored her husband not to hurt those of the world, for it had not been the people who had taken their child, but he would not listen. Sky listens to no one; it roils up its storms and wreaks havoc on the weak and strong without mercy or prejudice.
Titania was Queen of the Faery, so she returned with a heavy heart to her castle in the Mist. It was there with her wise teachers did she discover who it was that had taken her child and she set out through the countries at war to find him and bring him back to his father and end the war.
Three days and three nights she rode the winds looking for the darkest forest in the most western land, and on the third night she spied from her lofty view a fire. This must be where the witch had taken the child; this must be where she’d find her baby and with all her power win him back. The wind set her down just outside of the tree ring where the fire burned and the baby cried. It vowed to wait for her and carry her and the child home. Titania thanked the wind and moved into the firelight.
There was her child, crying and uncovered, with hair torn from his brow cooking in a pot over the fire. Blood ran down the baby’s face and the little Faery Queen all but screamed when she saw his state, but knowing the evil that she was to face she kept her calm, kept her cool and went for the child.
As her hands touched the boy his crying stopped and his temper waned. He knew his mother’s touch and was quiet, waiting for her to save him, but then from behind her came the witch.
Such a witch has never been nor will ever be again. And it is whispered still on the wind that she lurks in the dark to steal young children from their beds. She has the power to change her shape and her looks; she can be beautiful and horrible.
The witch raised her arms and laughed at the Faery mother, cursing her in a tongue to old for the world and the Queen dropped on the stop, paralyzed with fear. This witch new the darkness like no other creature before, not even Vampires dare speak in such a tune. Titania covered her ears and cried out for her child’s salvation in a voice that sounded like trees in the wind, for even if evil is evil the Mist is much older and knows the forests better than the trees.
The witch hadn’t expected such a turn of events and as the trees up rooted themselves at the behest of the small Queen the witch ran and was chased, never to be seen again in this world.
The Faery Queen thanked the trees, who bowed low to one that knew their voice, for those who can speak with the Forest are rare. Then the wind came and swept of the baby and mother and took them back to the Sky castle but when they reached it, all of the race, including the King were gone. In their place stood vast mountains as far as the eye could see; it was then that Titania realized the witches’ evil words, while time for her had stopped in that thicket time outside had not and the Sky had warred for hundreds of years, killing and pillaging in anger and sadness until they wore themselves out and returned to the earth.
Sadness in her heart the Faery new that it would be only a matter of time before that darkness found her as well, for she was tied to the Sky race. She would have to part with her child to save him. So she found a good caring human couple and left her only child to them.
To this day you can still hear her sad lullabies in the trees, if you listen. And when the Sky is cloudy and it is about to storm you can hear the anger of the Sky King, ever seeking his revenge.
-- Kalimsheri Version of the Giant Fable.
It was in the darkness that he rode his horse through the southern plains of what now has become the sister cities. It was Uther Cannon, fourth born son of the High King in Carthan that set out with curiosity in his heart and a sword at his side. He was a powerful man with eyes the color of the setting sun, his blonde hair swayed out behind him and his jaw set as he came to the Great Telan.
In those days the river was never crossed never forded for there was nothing yet made on the opposite side. The other side was that of the Land of Giants. There was a war spewing out over the world at this time, many countries had been slaughtered and many more were slated to do so, but Uther wasn’t afraid, his father had begged him to remain in the warmth of Kalimshere but he could not. It wasn’t peace and comfort Uther wanted, it was adventure, it was life.
His horse reared up with a cry as thunder clashed overhead. He calmed the beast with his soothing voice and dropped himself to the ground to stand instead. It was all he could do to contain his surprise and his glee. For standing before them larger than life was none other the Mighty Giant King.
Thoran Dwarack was the mighty King’s name and he sized Uther up with little finger and laughed at the man’s size. For men, to mountains, are nothing but dust. The King enquired of Uther from whence he came and when he would return. Replied the Great Uther he would stay where he was until he learned of the Giant’s ways.
This surprised the King and his own curiosity brought him to sit and listen to the young man’s say. It turned out that Uther, fourth in the line of thrown, wanted nothing to do with the warm fisher man’s life on the coast. There was no adventure, no gain, no glory. But in this far north there would be that and more.
The King shook his head and told the boy that there was nothing but darkness so far in the Up that never a human would live long enough to enjoy it. But Uther disagreed. He promised that he would learn the ways of the Giant, become his student and errand boy. That he would belittle himself from the status of King just to learn the ways of the great Mountain King.
Well this flattered the High King but he shook his head and gestured out behind him to the mountains in the distance. They were all his brothers he said, that had given up and gone back to the earth. His time was coming to an end for he’d wreaked too much havoc on the earth over the loss of his close friend.
Uther understood, and regretted it too, but sided with the Giant when it came to revenge; if someone so close to him had been hurt there would have been more bloodshed than there was now. The Giant smiled at such a thought, to finally be understood in the small eyes of a man, gave him peace and because of that understanding the King stood up and roared in his tongue to the others about and soon there were four Giants all gathered around and they took their tough hands and brought the mountains down.
It is said that the Giants were the best stone masons around and none to this day could shape stone like they could. Because of their size it was easy enough the grabbed hold of the nearest mountain and crushed it until it was soft and pliable then with their hands they made a great bridge across the Telan. And they weren’t finished there, for they fashioned also the wall that rings around Asfeld and Denosgrad to this day and the tallest turret in the castle that looks out over the cliffs was placed there by the Great King himself and he looked down at Uther who stood in shock and told him that he would need all these things once they were all gone.
There is darkness in the north, where Vampires play, where things darker than vampire hunt and once the Giants were gone all those dark things would hunt further south and devour all that stood in their way but none would get past that wall. Thoran Dwarack watched his brothers crawl into their sleep, creating the boarders to the east and with a nod he bayed fair thee well to Uther, new King of the realm, and all that he said was, “take care of it all.” With that be bowed his head and fell into the earth asleep and became the great mountains that boarder the north.
Uther soon gathered the settlers out in the Fringe and brought them into the city that the Giants had made and soon more and more joined him, because they’d found Ore and swords were made to battle the Dark. To this day we ride North to fight back that night for it was long ago that we were given the task and not one of us will let that might King down. Thoran Dwarack trusted us and gave Uther his crown.
So let it be remembered, those great powerful creatures of the North, the Giants, the Sky, the Mountains, the Thunder. They were a strong and powerful race and it was they that created our city, gave us our King. It is a good omen to hear them and to see their children that now walk the Earth. Let it say in our histories: The people of the Mountains bring change.
--Terran Version of the Giant Epic
2:28 AM Nov 26
