Caernarfon

Though difficult to reach and more difficult to study in depth, the island of Caernarfon is believed to have been a place of power for both men and elves for millennia. In ancient days, at the summit of the hill stood a ring of earthworks known as the Caerrhi, or the Fort of Kings. The most prominent work within the Caerrhi was a perfectly circular ring known as the Forradh (Cymry: Royal Seat) within which stands a smooth plinth of rock the height of man known as the Carega chan Dynged (Cymry: Stone of Destiny), a rock said to have been placed there by the hand of the first of the Fair Folk to walk the Great Weald. These earthworks have since been replaced by the successive structures, the last of which is the great fortress simply known as Caernarfon.

Caernarfon and the Legend of the Ard Ri

The most visible and notable structures on the island are the ruins of Caernarfon and its surrounding castle town. According to the oral history of the Tepestani or Cymry peoples, first parts of the castle were constructed to be the seat of power of the first Ard Ri of the Cymru, Athrwys ap Meurig in the early years of the Nar invasion of the Weald over 2000 years ago. As the story goes, with the lands of the Lloegyr (Cymry: Lowlanders, outsiders, a reference to the inhabitants of the vales and valleys bordering the Great Weald) in the hands of the demonic Nar invaders, the disparate Rhi (Kings) of the various tribes of the Cymry appealed to their cailleaigh (Cymry: Wise Women) for guidance from the gods and goddess of the Weald. Accordingly, each one directed their lord to travel from their lands to the sacred island at the center of the Lake of Time, deep in the untouched heart of the Great Weald, there to gather and await the guidance of the Witch Queen of the Fair Folk.

So, the quarrelsome Rhi gathered their war hosts and marched from their various kingdoms into the heart of the forest, and each built boats to take them from the shores of the lake to the green island at its center. There, when they were gathered, each of the kings in their separate encampments among the ancient stone monoliths and cairns of forgotten druid lords, they began to dispute amongst themselves, taking out their frustrations and fear of the Nar invaders upon their old rivals. All, it is said, but one. The young and untested king Athrwys ap Meurig of the commot of Gwent, according to legend, brought no war party, but only his father's advisor, Pencader yr Hud (Cymry: Pencader the Enchanter), and while the other kings quarreled and postured, the young ruler of Gwent immersed himself unclothed in the waters of the Lake, seeking the guidance so promised by his sister the cailleaigh of Gwent. In the legend he is questioned and tested by Arglwyddes chan 'r Llyn (Cymry:Lady of the Lake), and with his clear mind, noble spirit, and kind heart judged worthy to bear the blade Ellendrin. Blade in hand, the young Athrwys presented the blade before the quarreling kings of the Cymry and in so doing, summoned forth the Witch Queen of the Fair Folk herself, that all may see that he was ordained by the water, the air, the earth, and the fire beneath it as the Árd Rí ab Cymru.

With the unification of the Cymry beneath the banner of the Ard Ri, the power of humanity and the elves were joined together to repel the threat of the hated Nar, and the battle for the destiny of the Weald was waged for the next 750 years. The blade Ellendrin was passed from father to son, from son to brother, all held within the line of Athrwys of Gwent for the duration of the conflict. During that time, the population of the island swelled with refugees from the eastern front, from the villages and kingdoms ravaged and pillaged by the onrush of nearly 1,000 years of continuous bloodshed. The fortress surrounding the Carega chan Dynged was enlarged and strengthened against the fear of having to use it as a last redoubt should the war in the east go truly ill. This preparation would be well served when the March of the Nentyarch brought the abyssal armies of the Nar to the very shores of Llyn Amsera to besiege the final bastion of free humanity west of the Great Galenas. There, as the assembled host of the Cymry desparately struggled to hold the Nar flood from the shores of Caernarfon, the Nentyarch himself led a vast contingent of his abyssal armies around the lake, attempting to breach the heart of the Weald and the elven realm by breaking the Winter Gates beneath the slopes of Mount Lament. Realizing that even if Caernarfon was lost as long as the elven realm still stood strong there was a chance for his people, the Ard Ri Gruffydd ap Llywelyn diverted a strength of men, dwarves, and elves to stand with the elven defenders of the Winter Queen's Mountain and attempt to check the advance of the Nentyarch himself. It was to be a desperate, and fatal, last stand. According to most of the versions of the songs, the brave king arrived too late to save the Queen of Winter, but wounded the Nentyarch fatally with the blade Ellendrin before he himself was struck down by the might of the fell creature. Watching the king of men fall before the beast, and as her life blood left her, it is said the ancient Morrigan unleashed a wail of grief and rage that rent the souls and bodies of all creatures of this world and the other both above and below the mountain, spinning with her song the spirits of all those of the Elder slain into a wall of mist that would shroud the land of the elves in the weight of her sorrow until the end of the world. This, combined with the death of the Nentyarch and the Rage of the Witch Queen fatally broke the power the Nar and ended the Second Age of the elves.

Caernarfon and the Third Age of Men

After the Battle of Winter's Grief, the kinsmen of Gruffydd ap Llywelyn returned to the site of battle and there they recovered the blade Ellendrin as well as the body of their High King, both to be returned to Caernarfon. As was tradition, the High King was burned atop a bier sent out into the Lake, and the blade passed to his son, Maredudd ap Gruffydd, who led the forces of the Kingdom of Cymru in the final battles against the Nar, as well as signed the Argol Accords with the Jhaamdathan nobility of the south. But the drawing down of the Shroud and the disappearance of the Witch Queen, as well, some say, the lingering influence of the dark magic of the Nentyarch, poisoned the realm with strife and dissension. Maredudd ap Gruffydd became the first High King in the history of the Cymry to be assassinated, and he died without issue, and it is also said that in this time came the temptation of the cailleach. According to most version of the Lay of the Cymry, it was at this time that the sorcerer Pencader yr Hud reappeared in the quarreling court of the High King and, denouncing the rival lords who would quarrel over the right to the blade Ellendrin before the body of their lord was even cold, plunged the ruling blade into the heart of the Carega chan Dynged. In the end, the Kingdom of Cymru did not survive a single generation after the defeat of the Nar, collapsing into a series of warring tribes, rival kingdoms, and petty barbarism for the next 1200 years.

The island itself would remain the center of a thriving and important kingdom of the Cymry for much of that time, and it was a prize often contested amongst the Cymry kingdoms. The castle was fought for, burned, and enlarged, and played host to a dizzying array of rising and falling dynastic ambitions in this time. Even as the Kingdom of Impiltur played lord against lord and steadily advanced their ambitions in the rich highlands of the Cymry (who they called the Tepestani), the petty kings and chieftains of that spilled blood upon the sacred island of Caernarfon continued to call themselves the High King of Cymru, despite being unable to draw forth the blade Ellendrin from the Stone of Destiny, and despite the warren of noble Cymry that continually disputed the claim of the current "High King".

Caernarfon and Athrwys

In 1042 DR, the island of Caernarfon was the seat of the current High King, Morgan Mwynfawr, known as Morgan the Rich. By contemporary accounts, Morgan Mwynfawr was regarded as a cruel tyrant and a grasping miser who horded his vast wealth in secret crypts beneath the island of kings. Into his service passed the prince Athrwys ap Llaiddraig, the youngest son of King Llaiddraig of Gwent, given into the court of Morgan Mwynfawr as a ward in troth of his father's vassalage and good behavior. In the winter of 1043, Morgan Mwynfawr died of the ague. As is recorded by many sources, not the least of which being the Tapestry of Caernarfon held in the Carberg, on the night of the Winter Solstice the lords and vassals of the dead king gathered at Caernarfon to acclaim a new king, young Athrwys ap Llaiddraig drew forth the blade Ellendrin from the Carega chan Dynged, called forth the sorcerer Pencader once again, and held the blade before the assembled princes of the Cymry as the first true High King in 1,000 years. Thus began what is known as the Golden Age of the Cymry, which was to last only the life of a one man.

From that day in 1042 until 1070 DR, the Kingdom of Cymru would experience a resurgence of life, wealth, and culture, aided not the least of which by the complete disarray of the neighboring powerful Kingdom of Impiltur, which had plunged into the nightmare of the Kingless Years in 942 with the death of King Peverel Elethlim. While their rivals in Impiltur were themselves sliding into petty divisiveness and civil war, the Cymry were regaining a nobility of purpose long thought lost. Roads were reconstructed, and ancient forts were rebuilt. The wealth of Mwynfawr was turned loose into the kingdom, put to use constructing highways, bridges, and marketplaces.

Much has been said of the High Kings Companions, the Taer Marchogi, men of honor and strength that aided him in his reordering of the ancient Weald lands. Among them stood names of great renown, including Taer Tristan ab Llyr, Bowryll ap Dain, Morgan Hen, Rhys ap Tewdwr, and Bran ap Brychan. The tales and legends of that time have passed into the beloved yarns of troubadours and bards across the Kingdom of Impiltur and beyond, but it's of the many factors that led to its rise and fall, none are more disputed than the tale of Tristan and Anuriel.

Though many details and embellishments are varied from author to author, the basic story of the tragedy of Tristan and Anuriel and thus the fall of King Athrwys Aelfdan follows thusly:

On the night of the Winter Solstice, when young Prince Athrwys ap Llaiddraig of Gwent contemplated the Stone of Destiny in the center of the hall of dead king Morgan Mwynfawr, he was visited in his solitude by a raven that soon revealed himself to be none other than Pencander, the great sorcerer of the Cymry. There, in the shadow of the Stone of Destiny, the sorcerer regaled the young prince of the stories and tales of his people, their history and the legacy of his name. He told him of the truth of the cailleach, and the nature of the Fair Folk. He revived in him the flame of the Old Faith, burned so low to embers by the passing of time. In the end, he extracted from him the promise of Old, that as a King his will must be wrought to bring the people of all the land and the world of ancient magic closer together once more, lest all be destroyed by the coming Winter. Having so promised, the young prince Athrwys drew forth Ellendrin from the Stone of Destiny, and so doing, healed the Kingdom of Cymru, and so doing became Athrwys Aelfdan, Athrwys Elf-friend.

Many adventures and harrowing trials were had by the young King Athrwys and in them he gathered his companions around about him. Tristan ab Llyr, Bowryll ap Dain, Morgan Hen, Rhys ap Tewdwr, and Bran ap Brychan; all became his Taer Marchogi, his Knight Companions. Ever chief among them, though, stood Tristan ab Llyr, his first companion. The knight Tristan was said to outshine the youthful beauty of even King Athrwys, his mother said to have been of the elven folk from beyond the Shroud. Together, the clever King Athrwys and his brother knight Tristan ab Llyr welded the Kingdom of the Cymru together once more. But in time, Athrwys grew lonely, and so he sought a queen that could stand by his side. It was in this time that his eyes soon fell upon Anuriel, a lady of the Lloegyr, a princess of the petty Impilturan kingdom of Powrys upon the Bluefang Water. Anuriel ab Powrys was a beauty of form and mind, fair as a spring morning and shapely enough to ignite the flames in any man's heart. Upon viewing this girl, fair King Athrwys was smitten hopelessly, and beseeched her father for her hand in marriage. The King of Powrys was keen for his daughter to marry the powerful High King of the Cymry, but upon one condition. Athrwys must renounce his pagan faith and adopt the faith of Impiltur that was, for Anuriel was a devout woman, and could never love one who did not bear the love of the Lords Assembled within his heart. Athrwys Aelfdan was torn asunder by the demand, for it was the one thing he feared to do, remembering his promise upon the Stone of Destiny to the old sorcerer Percander, and the love of the greenwood and the Fair Folk held by his boon friend Tristan. In the end, however, Athrwys did as he was bid in order to take the fair Anuriel to wed, forswearing the Auld Faith in favor of the new by word if not in his heart. For, he reasoned, was not his very kingdom split between those who followed the southern Lords and those who followed the Auld Faith? Would it not be better for both to find comfort within his realm?

As the day of the wedding approached, the Kingdom of Cymru was overwrought with celebration. The priests of the Queen to be would conduct the conversion of King Athrwys and the wedding on the same day. As the peals of the wedding bells rung out upon Caernarfon at the consummation of the vows, there came into the wedding hall upon Caernarfon three women, hideous beyond description. These women confronted the High King and his beautiful bride, and each pronounced a curse upon their union.

The first declaimed, "Upon thine oath doth broken thee, fair win the hand thine bride to be, no seed take root from union spring, barren the womb doth marriage bring"! So saying, the crone transformed into a serpent, poisoning the father of the bride unto death and then slithered away.

The second shouted, "Upon thine oath doth broken thee, fair win the hand thine bride to be, thine crown doth sunder by thine own hand, ne'er more to rule across the land"! So saying, the crone transformed into a wolf, tearing the throat from the priest who conducted the service and speeding away.

The third, and the eldest, whispered, "Upon thine oath doth broken thee, fair win the hand thine bride to be, thine love wilt twist and writhe in flame, upon her lips in hate thy name, as oath thou broke so broke in kine, thy serpent is love undimmed by time!" So saying, the crone transformed into great vulture that tore the eyes from the mother of the bride and flew away.

The bloodshed of the wedding day proved, in time, to be more than a dark omen. Though a search across the breadth of the Weald was launched for the murderous hags, no trace of them could be found, and soon thoughts turned perforce to other things. Despite the joy of the Kingdom of Cymru at the marriage of their beloved lord and his beautiful lady, the seeds of strife had been planted in the heart of the land. Initially happy, the problems of the realm rolled in slowly like storm clouds on a summer day. In time the curse of the first witch proved true, for no child seemed to take hold in the belly of the queen. Still, the royal couple kept the spirits of the kingdom high, and the improvements to the roads, walls, and commerce of the kingdom proceeded apace. The Taer Marchogi easily defended the kingdom from attacks by the lowland kingdoms of Impiltur, as well as probing attacks from the orcish marauders from the northern passes. But slowly, slowly, the realm was being riven asunder by the deepest conflict among men, the war of faiths. With the conversion of the King to the faith of the southern lords, and the pious devotion of the beloved queen, the faith of the Lords Assembled spread like wildfire across the length and breadth of Cymru, and though the word of the king spoke of no man raising a hand against his neighbor for any reason, least of all worship, that did not stop the slow creep of suspicion and paranoia from creeping across the shires and vales of Cymru.

But in the royal palace, an even older source of discord was brewing, for the beautiful and devout queen found herself increasingly drawn to the half-fey knight, Tristan ab Llyr, and he to her, despite the love both bore for their noble lord King Athrwys. It is said by the bards that passion and love will travel whither it will, and betimes those who are captured by its torrent are as leaves tossed before the flood. In any case, both knew that their love was a betrayal of the worst kind, and treason against the High King besides, and yet, it is most often marked that in the fall of 1066, when King Athrwys marched south at the head of his army to subdue the oft recalcitrant Gorodain, when the High King left his trusted knight Tristan ab Llyr as his regent and guardian of his court, that the two gave in to their forbidden passions and consummated their desire for each other. It was a desire and love that, in other circumstances, would do them the credit of the ages, but in their star-crossed case brought only ruin and tragedy. It was an affair that would continue in secret long after the king's return, but it was also a secret that could only remain so for a brief time.

Whither came the secret knowledge of the king's cuckolding by his most trusted knight is a source of a thousand divergences, but there came a time, in the winter of 1069, when the treachery of the most beloved of King Athrwys' subjects came to light, and then the destruction of the kingdom was nigh. For in all three, the people of Cymru each saw a champion. In Tristan, followers of the Auld Faith saw a living symbol of the union of the forest and the men of the wood, and counted him their last hope to turn back the tide of the southern gods. In Queen Anuriel, the shepards and priests of the new religion saw their most devoted advocate, one to hold the king true to his convictions, and possibly to turn the toleration of the Auld Faith to expulsion. And in the King, the nation saw a man who stood in the middle, torn between his love for both of those who had betrayed him, and his duty to the law he himself had championed. In the end, it wasn't the decision of a grieving friend and husband, or the forbidden passions of two star-crossed lovers that brought down the Golden Age of the Cymry, for that had already begun, it was merely the final act of a long play, and the damnation of all involved was, it seemed, foreordained.

On the night of the Winter Solstice, the agonized King Athrwys watched as, by his order, his best friend and his beloved wife were brought before the Seat of Judgement, brought to their place to die. With tears in his eyes, and his mind focused on the chaos of lawless Impiltur to the east, he pronounced his well-known judgement: "The Law of the High King is the Law whether We will it or no, and so doth my heart burn split asunder!" It was to be the last judgement of a High King in the land of the Cymry, for the realm was already fracturing around him. Those who accounted the death of Tristan ab Llyr the final strike against the Auld Faith had already risen up against those who believed the Queen should die her death under the law, and so uphold the greater kingdom. The former affixed upon their chest the white rose of Taer Tristan, and stormed the castle of the last High King of the Cymry in a vain attempt to free their champion and his lady. In the Battle of the Caer, the flower of the nobility of Cymru was plucked in the conflagration that burned the very castle upon the rock to the ground. In the end, it is said by all that as King Athrwys watched in horror as his people fell upon each other like ravening dogs, he drew the Ellendrin from its white scabbard and sundered the crown upon the burning battlements, and that so done, cast himself and the royal blade to plunge into the lake from whence it came.''

The castle upon the island at the center of Lake Kronov burned to the foundations on that blighted night in the winter 1069, signifying the beginning of the Covenant Wars as the sundered Taer Marchogi fought their brothers for the destiny of ruined Cymru. In time, the town that had grown for centuries to support the great keep on the island was itself abandoned, until nothing of the living remained upon the damned jut of rock at the center of the fey lake at the end of the world of men.