Title: The MemoryStone
Author: Makela Leki
IsNaughty: False
Price: 580
IsUnique: False
WhenVarSet: 
Content:


[/font=2]

[/center]From The MemoryStone

[/center]of Makela Leki



[/font=4]

[/center]

This is a faithful reproduction of

[/center]the thoughts recorded in Makela 

[/center]Leki's memory stone, found in the

[/center]Bankorai pass, in the year of

[/center]reckoning 1E 973.  Seven years

[/center]before the fall of Orsinium due to

[/center]the combined efforts of the armies

[/center]of Daggerfall, Sentinel, and the

[/center]Order of Diagna. 

[/center]

[/center]Almost all of this is in the first

[/center]person, as Makela was unfamiliar

with the protocols and scholarly

[/center]formalities of recording herself

[/center]into a memory stone. None the less,

[/center]her heroism and heroic deeds live

[/center]on, her memories fresh in the stone

[/center]for all to feel and hear.  





 " . . . muuu uhh, I wonder if this will really work?"

 "The Mages guild took me for 25,000 gold crowns if it
doesn't.  Imagine?  This stone will record my thoughts? What
did they say? Just unwrap it from the silver foil and
leather bag and as soon as it touches my flesh it will begin
to record.  

 "Ahhhh, the pain, I must block it out, no one would want to
hold my  stone and hear my thoughts if I let it record my
pain. Thank the Ebonarm and the training I received in The Hall
of the Virtues of War.  I CAN block out this pain. Ummm
just, ah,  there, it's walled off.

 "Yes I can still see it there just beyond my consciousness
lurking like a hungry wolf - a wolf that will soon  consume
me. I see also my inevitable death from these damned wounds. 
No potions left, the healing crystal and ring are used up,
and me, with not even magic enough to light a candle.   Oh but
the gods did give me other gifts, the gift of sword singing,
the thrill of battle, Frandar  Hunding's Book of Circles,
THE WAY OF THE SWORD. Ah but then that is my story, I get
ahead of myself.  

 I am Makela Leki a warrior, a sword-singer, a second level
Ansei. In  my cradle I could form the Shehai, the spirit sword
- The mystical blade,  mine formed of pure thought serpents
intertwined with vines of roses to  form the blade, as
beautiful as ...  

 Ah, but I'm about to tell you all about that, to tell you
my story, a story of valiant battle, of my loves, of my
wars, of. of betrayal and of this last glorious victory.
To tell you of how I came to this distant lonely pass me and
five companions, to fight these men and monsters to  defeat
the army that would fall on my people like cowards in the
night, but again I get ahead of myself.  

 I am a simple warrior. I grew up as a Maiden of the Spirit
Blade.  As early as I can remember I wanted to be a Singer, to
feel the hunger of  the blade in my hands, to feel it come
alive and take my enemies. I am  told our people were
artisans and poets long ago in our desert homes.   Here in new
home now known as Hammerfell, many of us have returned  to
those ancient ways, but to me there is but ONE WAY. THE WAY 
of the SWORD.   

 Ah this is hard to tell. I grew up in my noble family, the
only one of  three brothers and two sisters that felt the
calling, the Song of the  Sword. Father understood, for he too
had felt the call. He had become a master, and Ansei long
before settling down with in our estate to raise a family.
At eleven, I entered the Hall of the Virtues of War and
joined the Maidens of the Spirit Sword. In my band there were
six of us. Daring Julia, solid Patia, big Kati, svelte
Cegila, wise Zell, and me - all are gone now, save me, and
soon I will join them. ... Join them in the halls of the
unknown gods of war.

 We drank together, we fought, we  wept, we grew in the way of
the sword. We joined in our learnings in the Hall with our
Brothers of the Blade. Learning from each other, we all sat
at the feet of the Hall Master striving to learn the depths of
the  Shehai - making the spirit blade into a real weapon as
Frandar Hunding had. Only a few have the purity of heart and
virtue to be able to take the step and learn the mysteries of
Ansei. Sword Sainthood.  

 Somehow, of all the Brothers and the Maidens, I only
possessed the unique qualities, the faint but strong enough
flicker of magicka to call forth the Shehai. Many times I
called it, seldom would it become substantial enough to be a
weapon. To be a Ansei of the first level you just need to be
able to call it, and that I could, so I became the first
Ansei from our local hall in two generations. 

 Oh I have so much to tell, so many memories, so many
treasures to share with you, my unknown companion. How do I
start?

 Umhhh, the pain is still out there lurking hungry, slowly
consuming what's left of me. I guess I had better tell of the
final battle, the one that has left me here, and then if I
have the will left tell you of my life, of my love  Raliph.
OH what a lad he was. What times we shared ... Ebonarm ...
Forgive me, my mind wanders ...  Let me go to the  Final
Battle.  

 Umm to start, in the middle humm. Yes. We Maidens grew,
learned, mastered the Way, and upon completing the
Walk-About. To you who are not Singers, this is a wilderness
trek emulating the times of Frandar Hunding - where we each
wander the country side righting wrongs, defeating monsters,
performing quests in the name of virtue. Some of us in our
Hall took years to finish. Always there is danger, we six
Maidens each returned in our own good time, but many are they
who do not live to return from the Walk About.   

 We returned, each to our own lives, to meet in the hall once
a week to tell our stories to the new Maidens and Brothers,
and to perform as instructors in the Way of the sword.  All
was well till the night of the MidYear Festival.

 All our people were reveling and ...  excuse ... enjoying
the repast, but for we six Maidens.  It happened that the 
festival day fell on our day of meeting in the hall, our
day of prayer and  fasting and honor to the Way of the
Sword.  

 As we met, late into the night, a knocking rang on our door. 
When I opened, it there was a guardian the Bankorai Pass in
the Wrothgarian Mountains, wounded and near death ... He
told us of betrayal from the  north, an invasion sponsored
by the Crystal Tower of High Rock, led by King Joile of
Daggerfall -- our ally in the war with Orsinium!

 Quickly we used up a crystal of healing in restoring him to
vitality. We sent him on to the king, while we six grabbed our
weapons and armor of power, and as many potions, marks,
and crystals and rings as we could carry.  

 We flew to the pass hoping upon hope that we would not be
too late. Our journey was not in vain, for we arrived just
at the very point where the last three guardians were
overwhelmed by the horde.  Into the pass we ran forming the
old battle line, six abreast.

 OH did we FIGHT.

 The Song of the Sword was a joyous noise slicing through the
ranks of evil.  We fought for hours. Julia was the first to
fall, a cowardly poisoned dagger finding a rent in her
armor. Then one by one all fell, save me.

 ... oh cruel Ebonarm ...    Then my beloved sword, the sword
of my father, the one with the serpent's crest, fashioned by
the master sword smith Singer Tansal broke in my hands. All
was lost, our six lives spent in vain. Now, many many of
them would pour through the pass. I would be easy prey for
them, like a newborn child. I wept in frustration.  

 Then I remembered the hearth in our home - the book.  Frandar
Hunding's Book of Circles, the Way of Strategy.  I reached
for the Shehai the spirit sword, that which I could never
reliably form when I needed it, and behold ... it was alive.  
  Alive with fire. It formed in my hand. Ablaze with power ---
OH I slew mightily, right and left, like a scythe through
wheat.  All the way to the Lord of the Tower I fought.  With
one blow I cut his magical armor asunder, one more took his
head.

 But to do that deed cost me dearly, wounds by the dozen, for
although I had magical armor, it was not formed of spirit
like my blade, it was not as invincible as my blade or my own
spirit, and I was sorely wounded.  

 With the felling of King Joile, his army crumbled. They fled
before my wrath. All ran back through the pass not even
pausing to collect their dead and wounded. All who could
stand ran for their lives, and I slew all I could reach, but
my breath was coming short, and the pain ...

 Finally I rested, on this rock where you find me now. I don't
know why I chanced to bring this stone along. I bought it on a
whim really, with the loot from ... ah well I guess I need to
really stop and  tell my story in order. I feel able to go
on to tell you more ... the eternal night is descending more
slowly than I thought.

 Not just yet, am I ready to compose my death poem.  A
little sip of water and ... well I think I will go back and
tell you of my life, maybe some details about the battle.
And Oh yes. About Raliph and our children, humm where will I
start.  

 ... oh ... rrr ...

 I am ... a simple warrior ... I grew up as a, a Maiden of the
Spirit Blade ... As early ... as early as I can ... remember
...  



 
